#dr3 angst

[agentstarkid]

SAUDADE ✦ DR3

“Saudade” is a Portuguese word that carries a profound and complex meaning, often described as a deep emotional state of longing or nostalgia. It transcends mere language; it's a state of being, an emotion that seeps into the soul and lingers like an echo in the heart. It encompasses a mix of emotions, including melancholy, yearning, and a sense of emptiness, often accompanied by fond memories of past experiences or relationships. In the context of love, "saudade" captures the bittersweet essence of missing someone deeply, even when they are physically present or long after they are gone. It is the ache of the heart that comes from loving and losing, a poignant reminder of the depth of connection and the enduring power of love's impact on our lives.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ PIT BOARD: social media au | ✦ FC: becky g

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, age gap, language, lots of angst, heartbreak, drama, internet meanies, mentions of mental health struggles, assholes.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: uh holi, loves 👀 sorry for the delay, but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter 👀 it's a little short but as present for not posting in March, I present to you: a bonus chapter hehe okay, byeeee *runs away as fast as she can*

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

JANUARY 1, 2022

yourinstagram

📍 Latinoamérica

liked by danielricciardo, badbunnypr, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram Starting the New Year on a bright note! ✨ Wearing yellow to channel optimism and positive energy as we dive into this new year. 💛 I'm so so so grateful for all the love and support you've shown me throughout the past year and I'm excited to continue this journey together in 2022. Here's to another year of growth, laughter, and cherished memories! Siempre para adelante, mi gente! 🎉

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danielricciardo Mi reina ❤️‍🔥

user1 I wanted to take this space to thank you for the happiness you have brought me over the years. Your music or your works of art have been a constant company in moments of joy, sadness and everything in between. Your talent is enormous, but so is your ability to connect with your fans in a unique way. Your humility and gratitude show that, despite the success, you are still a close and authentic person. Thanks for all that you do!

camila_cabello Good god woman have mercy

kylieminogue you are sensationally exquisite 💛✨

xtina my angel ❤️

user2 jawline could cut a diamond 🥶

user3 muy buena artista pero sobrevalorada respecto a su belleza, y no digo que no sea guapa sino sobrevalorada

user4 you could wear the rainbow if you wanted and that would still not make you relevant or give you any talent

user5 she always tries too hard

user6 watch out for Regina George in sheep's clothing

anitta Feliz ano novo para você Rainha 😘

diplo 💛

user7 the fact that they spent new year's day apart and on different sides of the world speaks volumes

user what? that they both wanted to see their families? grow up

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yourinstagram has added to their story!

⥂ translation: Everything I do and comes out of me it's because I'm feeling it, it's okay if no one else feels the same way. Two people can never ever feel the same at the same time.

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JANUARY 16, 2022

danielricciardo

📍 Perth, Australia

liked by yourinstagram, heidiberger_, natalie_pinkham and 1,562 others

danielricciardo Back seat baby seat bangers 🎶

tagged: yourinstagram

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yourinstagram this is all anyone needs to have a great day ❤️ please send me his manager's contact, I've been looking for a male backing vocal for my next album and I think he can be the perfect choice 😌

danielricciardo yourinstagram ah, you see, he's a really sought-after artist so he's super busy. But I know his uncle and he's interested on the job, only thing is that he likes to be paid with kisses 💋😏 yourinstagram danielricciardo tell him to contact me, I think we will be able to work out the payment details soon 😌

yourinstagram btw how is it possible that he's that big now if I saw him like yesterday and he was this 🤏🏽 small 🥺❤️

user1 is the copying the hand movements for me 😂❤️

user2 so this is how Y/N's future is gonna look like 👀

userA all that's missing is the ring 👀 userB yeah danielricciardo stop being lazy my friend 👀

user3 you're gonna be a great dad one day ❤️🥺

♥ yourinstagram has liked this comment

user4 siempre dije que no quiero ser mamá, pero después de ver esto... yourinstagram mi reina quién pudiera ser vos 😮‍💨

user5 coisa mais linda! ❤️

user6 Daniel really sang his heart out to that song lmao

user7 you have really shit taste in music mate

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FEBRUARY 4, 2022

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo, keleighteller, natalie_pinkham and 1,238,562 others

yourinstagram Te amo con el alma, porque el alma nunca muere ❤️ happy 2 years, mi Danielito 🥰

⥂ translation: I love you with my whole soul, because the soul never dies ❤️

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danielricciardo My forever partner in crime ❤️

user1 cuide a ese hombre yourinstagram, que tu y yo no somos amigas 🫡

user2 oh God I'm so single 😩

mileycyrus so much love and happiness for you both ❤️❤️❤️

user3 THAT LAST PHOTO IT'S GIVING I'D MARRY YOU WITH PAPER RINGS 😭 SO 1 + 1 = THEY ARE GETTING ENGAGED‼️‼️

userA I'm so calling it, it is happening 🤩

user4 LIL BLAKE SIGHTING 😍😍😍

hermusicofficial favs

user5 she was talking seriously when she recorded A mi me gustan mayores 😅

userA será que aplica el "A mí me gustan más grandes. Que no me quepa en la boca..." con él?? 👀👀👀 yourinstagram userA los besos que quiera darme? 👀 sí, aplica 🤭😈 userB OMFG Y/N???!!! LMAOOO iamdannaschwarz yourinstagram that's enough internet for you today 🙅🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

chloestroll did he really cook? 😂

yourinstagram chloestroll he did! and it was really good actually 🥰 I felt ✨spoiled✨

oliviarodrigo mom and dad 💜

user6 the first pic is making me feel something. i don't know how to put that something into words though 🥵 *bi panics*

userA JUST A BIG FUCKING OOF I GUESS 🥵 userB they served cunt as per usual userC I grunted and groaned and moaned 🫠😩

user7 I'm so tired of them omg yeah, you're "in love", we see you, now stop shoving it at our faces every chance you have 🙄

fioamato congrats Sandy and Danny 😜💖

iamdannaschwarz Baby and Danny 😜💖 itsvittoriasousa nah, more like Troy and Gabriella landonorris Belle and the Beast 😜 yourinstagram landonorris aww did littol landow nowis just called me beautiful? 👀😊 landonorris nvm I take it back. Fiona and Shrek* 😌 yourinstagram landonorris well that makes you the donkey 😂

user8 every time I remember that there's a 9 year gap between them I wanna puke 🤮

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danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram, martingarrix, landonorris and 1,562 others

danielricciardo happy 2 years mi vida ❤️

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user "mi vida" brb gonna go chew on a live wire 😭

yourinstagram let's do this for a lifetime ❤️♾️

danielricciardo you have yourself a deal, Chip ❤️

user2 hey God, it's me again...

martingarrix ❤️❤️❤️

user3 these adorable videos ending with daniel squeezing y/n's butt is so dan-y/n core 🥹😝

marcusstoinis congrats, lovebirds ❤️

user4 did they leave their own love lock on the fence? 🥹😭

userA I don't think we'll ever find it, but I'm sure they did 😭

landonorris congrats on putting up with him this long yourinstagram ❤️

joshallenqb 🍾❤️

user5 somethin something "find a beautiful love, make sure they know they are your morning light" playing while the sunset iluminates her and cutting to "and that you'll never let go till the day that you die" while he has his arms around her 😭😭😭

userA THIS HERE IS LOVE 😭 THIS HERE IS LIFE 😭 userB something something he's got a tattoo of that song's title 😭 userC somebody get me a fucking doctor I feel like my heart is about to burst

scottyjames31 my favorite celebrity couple 😌

caamp we love you guys ❤️

user5 grandpa copping a feel 🤢

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FEBRUARY 10, 2022

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FEBRUARY 22, 2022

yourinstagram has added to their story!

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MARCH 8, 2022

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MARCH 9, 2022

danielricciardo

liked by mclaren, georgerussell63, heidi_berger and 584,981 others

danielricciardo Better this week than next… Unfortunate to miss the test, but I’m starting to feel better. I’ll stay isolated and just focus on next weekend. Big thanks to Lando & McLaren for the heavy lifting, I owe you some beers (milk for Lando). Appreciate the well wishes from everyone as well.

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landonorris get well soon mate!

georgerussell63 speedy recovery danny ric 💪🏻

user did you and Y/N broke up??? please tell me it's a lie

user2 Y/N hasn't liked nor comment yet and it's been 2 whole days since he posted this

userA why whould she? they are quarantining together, she doesn't need to comment or liked every single post he makes. They are probably sitting side by side right now userB userA there's actually rumours that she was seen leaving the hotel in a rush yesterday and fans are already speculating if they broke up

user3 I hope you feel better soon Dan! I know we all wish to see you in action next weekend!!

user4 "milk for Lando" lmaooo i love them your honor <3

user5 this is your year mate don't let any setbacks bring you down 💪🏻

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MARCH 18, 2022

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MARCH 25, 2022

f1wags

liked by 3,474 others

f1wags It seems Danny Ricc has moved on quickly 👀 Just after a week since the confirmation of his break up with Y/N, a few fans have reported sightings of the driver with actress Heidi Berger —who has been linked to him a few times these past months— around Monaco.

The blonde is the daughter of former Austrian F1 driver Gerhard Berger and former Portuguese model Ana Corvo.

This love triangle drama just keeps getting juicier and more complicated! 🔥 What are you thoughts, did the Aussie cheated on his ex-girlfriend as some people say? Did he moved on too fast? or did he do the right thing? Let us know in the comments!

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user I actually feel bad for Y/N, not a fan of hers at all but it must be hard to see the man you were talking of marriage with a month ago, move on from your relationship so quickly and easily. if it were me in her shoes, I know it'd really mess my head up 😕

user2 idc if he'd not been with Heidi physically while being with Y/N, it's still treason to be emotionally involved with someone else while you're in a relationship. I believe he already had feelings for Heidi while still being with Y/N because how the fuck can you move on from a whole 2-year relationship in two weeks?? I only hope Y/N is doing okay and that she gets to heal and find someone better for her 😞

user3 you can try to defend him with all the arguments you can think of but at the end of the day, he is still just a rich man. It's funny how you've been all pointing fingers at the innocent while playing lawyer to the guilty.

user4 I'm a Danny Ricc fan but I think this was too fast too soon, at least have some respect for your ex who stood by your side through the highs and lows of the past years, smh so disappointed

user5 Get over it already! He moved on to someone better, as he should. Let the poor man alone! He's been single for weeks! He's allowed to see anyone he wants! Stop whining about it, Y/N just wasn't enough, as simple as that 🤷🏽‍♀️

user6 I'm actually super worried for him, he's not himself lately. Just a few weeks ago he was calling Y/N the love of his life and now this? All jokes aside, I think he's self-sabotaging. He looks like a shell of his old-self, he is not smiling as bright as before, he's super quiet now and if you pay attention to him during interviews, he fidgets a lot and sounds so insecure when asked about his driving. GO TO THERAPY BABE!!!

userA you are reaching, babe! lmaoooo he's fine, he just got tired of that snake 🤪

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APRIL 2, 2022

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APRIL 4, 2022

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APRIL 22, 2022

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MAY 3, 2022

danielricciardo

liked by corey_wilson, michaelitaliano, mclaren and 269,852 others

danielricciardo Miami. We made it.

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user i guess this is the confirmation we've been waiting for

user2 how can you move on from a 2 year relationship so fast??

user3 ugh men are so fucking unbelievable

userA jokes on all those whiny fangirls of his, turns out it wasn't he who deserved better, it was HER.

user4 he is a joke just like his driving lmao

user5 Heidi is so much better than that wannabe singer, she was just a plaything for him 🤣

user6 I'm so glad you opened up your eyes daniel

user7 so all those rumours have been true smh y'all were attacking Y/N nonestop for the smallest interactions with the opposite sex, and none of those rumours proved to be true but I'm not seeing the same energy directed towards him now that the rumours about him were actually true!

user8 I just know that the break up album is gonna be a banger 🔥🤪

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MAY 10, 2022

yourinstagram has added to their story!

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JUNE 19, 2022

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⇥ youtube search: falling (harry & y/n's duet version) - love on tour, london night 1

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JUNE 22, 2022

yourinstagram

liked by markhoppus, phoebebridgers, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram burned other memories just to make room for these ones 🎞️❤️‍🔥

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user HI MOTHER!! WELCOME BACK WE MISSED YOU ❤️❤️❤️

user1 we love to see you living your best life!!! 🥰

user2 Can't wait to listen to the full version of the song she plays on the last slide 🤩

userA Daniel Ricciardo is shaking in his boots right now 🤪

machinegunkelly 🖤🥀🤘🏼

user3 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

markhoppus kid what are you holding on your lap and why it isn't on my liquor shelf yet? 🤨

yourintagram sorry dad 😔 it's on its way to your doorstep right now 🤪 skyehoppus yourintagram make sure you are also included on the package arriving at our door, it's been too long honey ❤️ userA “dad”??? she knows mark hoppus?? what did i miss?? 😳 userB userA they have an on-going joke that mark found her wandering around and adopted her as one of the few blink-182's children along alex gaskarth and jack barakat from all time low 😂 she's super close with his family, too! I remember she collab on a song with him, but they didn't released it and then it got leaked, she did play it at a couple of concerts tho userC userB is it 'thank you & goodnight'? 👀 userB userC YES! I miss her pop-punk era 😔 that version she did of 'little lion man' was soooo good!!

user4 Baby Iza is on her way to hit a bitch (Daniel)

alexalbon I like pizza too 👀🍕

lilymhe sorry baby, bad bitches only 💅🏻

user5 OMG OMG WE'VE GOT HARRY, TAYLOR AND Y/N IN ONE POST?! THE HOLY TRINITY RIGHT THERE 😍

harrystyles ❤️

user6 I've got my two mothers in one photo 😭❤️

taylorswift Ms. Falls-a-lot 👻❤️

yourinstagram I swear I'm gonna scare you too next time 🙄😂

lilymhe walking among legends on this post 🙇🏻‍♀️ #blessed 🙏🏻

user6 I'm so happy that she's finally back ❤️ we need to flood her comment section with love 🥰

user7 Drama queen of this generation. Always playing the victim & tricking people into thinking that she's a mental health advocate. You're way too far from that. Cancel her 👍🏻🐍

user8 the caption: ICONIC 🔥

userA the taxi driver is twisting on his grave 😂🤪

user9 the old Y/N can't come to the phone right now, why? Oh 'cause she's DEAD! 😎

user10 most untalented celeb ever

fioamato where was my invitation? 🤨 yourinstagram iamdannaschwarz

iamdannaschwarz you got one, you just decided to ditch us for mr. i-have-an-art-gallery 🤨 yourinstagram iamdannaschwarz yessss expose her, dannita! 🤭 No te hagas de la víctima, mi corazón. We've got the receipts 😎🧾 fioamato I hate you both 🙄

user11 you should be ashamed to post a photo holding a tequila bottle when so many young people follow you. You should be a role model to them, not another alcoholic celebrity 🙄

user12 babygirl I hope you are doing better and feeling great! You deserve so much more ❤️

userA she's as fabulous as ever while he's floping big time, I call that karma 💅 userB not many people know how to truly appreciate the unique sazón and sabor of a Latina 🔥 homeboy couldn't handle the heat 🤭

user13 I know that album is gonna be 🔥🔥🔥

user14 attention seeker no wonder you always get dump for someone better

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JUNE 30, 2022

Video — CLEAN SHEET KINGS | STONES & DIAS

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─── Please don't forget to reblog and/or comment! ♡

[its-avalon-08]

laughed it off (dr3)

✦ summary - y/n overhears danny's friends being mean about her and danny just laughs along.

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, fluffy ending

The sun was shining brightly as Daniel Ricciardo and his girlfriend, Y/N, enjoyed a perfect day on a luxurious yacht with a few of Daniel's close friends. The group was lively, laughter echoing across the deck as the boat sailed smoothly through the sparkling blue water.

Y/N, as usual, was at the center of the energy, cracking jokes, dancing to the music, and playfully splashing water at Daniel. Her infectious spirit matched Daniel's own perfectly—they were a dynamic duo, known for their shared enthusiasm and zest for life.

“C’mon, Danny, let’s see those dance moves!” Y/N teased, tugging at his hand to pull him onto the makeshift dance floor at the back of the yacht.

Daniel laughed, letting himself be pulled along. “You sure you’re ready to be out-danced by an Aussie, babe?” he teased back.

“Oh, please! I’ve seen you dance, remember?” Y/N winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

As they danced, one of Daniel’s friends, a guy Y/N hadn’t met until today, leaned over to the others and whispered something. Y/N couldn’t quite hear, but she noticed Daniel glance in their direction, his usual wide grin dimming slightly.

Feeling a bit parched, Y/N decided to grab a drink and headed toward the small bar set up near the front of the yacht. As she reached for a glass, she overheard a snippet of the conversation Daniel’s friends were having behind her, not realizing she was within earshot.

"Man, she's exhausting, isn't she?" one of them muttered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Can she ever sit still? I don't know how you put up with it, Dan."

Another friend chuckled, adding, "Yeah, it's like she's always on a sugar rush or something. Must be draining to be around that all the time."

Y/N froze, her hand gripping the glass tightly as her heart plummeted. She felt like someone had just punched her in the gut. They were talking about her. Her, the girl who had thought she was fitting in perfectly with Daniel's friends, being the life of the party. But now, all she could feel was a wave of humiliation crashing over her.

She glanced over at Daniel, hoping—praying—he would say something, defend her, tell them they were wrong. But instead, she saw him chuckle softly, looking a bit awkward but not saying anything to counter their remarks.

It was as if the ground had slipped out from beneath her. Her mind raced, trying to process what she had just heard and what it meant. Did Daniel really feel the same way? Was she too much? Was her energy that overwhelming?

She quickly composed herself, forcing a smile as she approached the group. Daniel noticed her coming and smiled at her, his eyes full of the usual warmth that always made her feel safe. But now, that warmth felt like a burning sting, a reminder of the words she had just overheard.

“Hey, babe,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I think I might need to sit this one out. I’m feeling a little queasy… Must be the sun.”

Daniel’s smile faltered with concern. “You okay, love? Do you need anything?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” she assured him quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just need to lie down for a bit.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and made her way to the lower deck, her heart heavy with a sadness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

time skip

Y/N couldn’t get off the yacht fast enough. She managed to keep a neutral expression during the ride home, but the moment she walked through the front door of their apartment, her carefully held composure began to crumble.

Maybe I am too much… Maybe I should tone it down… The thoughts whirled in her mind as she numbly kicked off her shoes and headed to the bedroom. Normally, she would have felt a twinge of guilt for leaving a gathering so abruptly, but all she felt now was a deep ache in her chest. She pulled out her laptop, trying to lose herself in work, anything to distract her from the sinking feeling in her heart.

The hours ticked by slowly, and before long, she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Daniel was home. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter.

“Y/N, I’m back!” Daniel’s voice was full of its usual cheer as he walked into the bedroom, expecting to see her bounding over to him with one of her trademark hugs and kisses. But instead, he found her sitting up in bed, her laptop on her lap, staring intently at the screen.

She glanced up at him and gave a small, forced smile. “Hey,” she said softly before returning her attention to the screen. “Just finishing up some work stuff.”

Daniel frowned, his heart sinking a little. That’s… different. Usually, Y/N would leap up and throw her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses and asking him about his day with an enthusiasm that always lifted his spirits. But tonight, there was none of that. Just a quick smile and back to work.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he approached the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice too calm, too controlled. “Just a bit tired.”

Daniel studied her for a moment, noticing how she avoided eye contact. Something’s off. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She wasn’t usually this distant.

“Alright,” he said slowly, leaning in to kiss the top of her head, but she barely reacted, just nodding absently as she continued to type away.

She must really be tired, he thought, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling settling in his chest. But it didn’t go away.

Later, as they both got ready for bed, the sense of wrongness only grew stronger. They usually had fun together during their nighttime routine, making goofy faces in the mirror or playfully shoving each other out of the way for space at the sink. But tonight, Y/N was eerily quiet, methodically brushing her teeth and washing her face without any of the usual banter. Daniel tried to catch her eye, to get her to laugh or smile, but she seemed lost in her thoughts, distant in a way that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

What happened today? he wondered as he watched her move about the room. He wanted to ask, to push for answers, but something told him now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want to pressure her if she wasn’t ready to talk.

When they finally climbed into bed, Daniel reached out to pull her into his arms like he did every night. But to his surprise, Y/N turned the other way, her back to him.

“Goodnight,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Goodnight,” Daniel replied, though his voice was thick with confusion. What’s going on?

As Y/N lay there, facing away from him, she stared blankly at the wall, her mind replaying the cruel words she had overheard on the yacht. Her chest tightened with each memory, the laughter, the dismissive comments, and worst of all, Daniel’s silence. How can he just laugh along? Do they all think that about me? Does he? The questions spun endlessly in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Daniel lay beside her, staring up at the ceiling, his heart heavy with worry. Something’s really wrong. I just don’t know what. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, but the way she had pulled away made him hesitate. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to bridge the sudden gap between them.

The silence stretched on between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved hurt. Neither of them slept easily that night.

time skip

Daniel woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, his hand instinctively reaching out for Y/N’s warm body beside him. But instead of finding her curled up against him as she usually was, his hand met cold, empty sheets. He blinked, groggy with sleep, his heart sinking as he registered the emptiness beside him. Where is she?

Yawning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. It wasn’t like Y/N to be up before him, especially on a weekend. They usually spent the morning lazing around in bed, entangled in each other, exchanging lazy kisses and talking about everything and nothing. But today, the bed felt too big, too empty.

He stumbled out of the bedroom, still half-asleep, and made his way to the living room, where he heard the familiar clinking of a spoon against a coffee mug. Y/N was standing by the kitchen counter, freshly showered, her hair still damp and clinging to her neck. She was wearing her running clothes, and Daniel realized with a pang that she must have gone for a run—something she usually only did later in the day, if at all.

“Morning,” she said, glancing up at him with a small, polite smile before turning back to her coffee.

Daniel frowned, the unease from last night gnawing at him again. No morning kiss, no joke about me being the sleepyhead… He missed the way she usually greeted him, bounding over with her signature enthusiasm and peppering his face with kisses until he was fully awake.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice laced with confusion as he walked over to her. “You’ve been out running?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Just needed to clear my head a bit.”

Daniel leaned against the counter, searching her face for any sign of what was wrong, but she kept her eyes trained on her mug, avoiding his gaze. Clear her head? Since when does she need to do that alone? He watched her carefully, noting how different she seemed—quieter, more subdued.

Usually, their mornings were filled with light-hearted banter, Y/N teasing him about his bedhead or him playfully tugging at her clothes as they tried to decide who got the shower first. Today, though, there was none of that. Just a few polite exchanges before Y/N quietly went back to whatever she was doing, leaving Daniel feeling more lost than ever.

Later, as they sat down for breakfast, Daniel noticed how Y/N barely spoke. She ate quietly, not her usual animated self who would chat non-stop about random topics or playfully steal food off his plate. When she finished, she simply got up, rinsed her plate, and headed to the living room without a word, leaving him alone at the table. This isn’t right. She’s never like this.

He followed her into the living room, where she had already settled on the couch with her laptop, focusing on some work. Normally, Sunday mornings were their time to cuddle up together and watch silly TV shows, often forgetting about the world outside. But today, Y/N was distant, absorbed in her work and not giving him the usual attention that he had come to cherish. Daniel sat down beside her, hoping she’d lean into him like she always did, but instead, she shifted slightly away, her focus still on the screen.

“Wanna watch something?” Daniel asked, trying to sound upbeat.

Y/N looked up briefly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Maybe later, I’ve got a lot to finish.”

Later? Daniel thought, the word stinging more than it should have. He leaned back into the couch, feeling the distance between them growing, an invisible barrier he didn’t know how to break.

As the day wore on, Daniel kept trying to bring her back, suggesting they go out for lunch or do something fun together, but each time, Y/N politely declined, claiming she was tired or had things to do. Every attempt he made to connect with her was met with that same polite, distant response, and it was driving him crazy.

This is not us. What happened? He replayed their last few days in his mind, searching for anything that could have caused this sudden change, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It was like she had just pulled away overnight, and he had no idea why.

By the time evening rolled around, the tension between them was palpable. Daniel couldn’t take it anymore. They were usually inseparable, laughing and joking even after long days, but now it felt like they were miles apart, even sitting on the same couch.

As Y/N stood up to put away her laptop, Daniel finally spoke, his voice tight with the anxiety that had been building inside him all day. “Y/N, we have to talk.”

Y/N froze, her back to him, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the laptop on the table. She had been dreading this moment, knowing that Daniel would eventually confront her about her behavior. But how could she explain the hurt she felt, the betrayal that had been gnawing at her since she overheard those cruel words?

She turned slowly to face him, her heart pounding in her chest, knowing she couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation. The look on Daniel’s face—the worry, the confusion—made her want to cry, but she held it in, biting her lip to keep her emotions at bay.

Daniel could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Y/N stand there, her back still partially turned to him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to understand what was going on.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice softer now, “what’s wrong? Please, talk to me. I feel like you’re a million miles away.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to let the emotions she had been bottling up spill over, but the concern in Daniel’s voice was too much. She turned around fully, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, the dam broke.

“Daniel, I—I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay,” she said, her voice trembling. “I heard them. I heard what your friends said about me on the yacht.”

Daniel’s stomach dropped as her words registered. “What? What did they say?”

“They… they called me exhausting,” Y/N choked out, tears welling up in her eyes. “They said I’m too much, that I never sit still. And you… you just laughed along, Daniel. You didn’t say anything.”

Daniel felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He remembered the conversation now, the way his friends had made those offhanded comments, but at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think she heard.

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, stepping closer to her, reaching out to hold her, but she took a step back, shaking her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“No, Daniel. You don’t understand. That hurt. So much,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I thought I was fitting in, I thought they liked me. But to hear them say that… And then to see you just… go along with it? It broke my heart.”

Daniel’s eyes filled with tears as he watched her break down, each of her words cutting deeper into him. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so broken, and it shattered him to know he had a part in causing it.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think… I should have said something. I should have defended you. But I didn’t think they were serious. I didn’t think it would hurt you like this.”

“That’s the problem, Daniel!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising with the pain she had been holding back. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think about how it would make me feel, how it would tear me apart to hear the people you care about think so little of me. And you just stood there, laughing with them, like it was okay.”

Daniel’s heart ached as he saw the tears streaming down her face, the hurt in her eyes so raw, so deep. “Y/N, you have to believe me, I love you just the way you are,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “You’re not too much for me. You’re everything. I love your energy, your spirit. It’s what drew me to you in the first place. I don’t want you to change. Not for them, not for anyone.”

“But you didn’t say that,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by her sobs. “You didn’t say anything. And now I feel like… like I’m too much, even for you. I feel like I don’t belong, like I’m just a burden.”

“No, no,” Daniel shook his head frantically, desperate to make her understand. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re my everything. I should have stood up for you. I should have told them how amazing you are, how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, don’t think for a second that you’re too much for me.”

Y/N’s knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body. “It just hurt so much, Daniel. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt so… unwanted.”

Daniel was on the floor beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms despite her initial resistance. He held her tightly, his own tears falling freely now as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“You are wanted, Y/N,” he whispered fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. “You are loved. I love you. I need you. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you from that. I never wanted to make you feel unwanted or unloved. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

Y/N clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt as she cried out all the pain and hurt she had been holding inside. Daniel rocked her gently, whispering apologies and reassurances, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped her lips.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered, kissing her hair, her forehead, anywhere he could reach. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll never let you feel like this again.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, tangled together on the floor, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. The weight of the day’s hurtful words slowly lifted as Daniel poured his heart out to her, begging for her forgiveness, for a chance to make things right.

And in that moment, Y/N knew that despite the pain, despite the heartbreak, Daniel’s love was real. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way he whispered her name like it was the most precious thing in the world. But the hurt was still there, lingering beneath the surface, a reminder that words—whether spoken or left unsaid—had the power to break even the strongest of hearts.

time skip

After what felt like hours of clinging to each other on the floor, Daniel and Y/N finally moved to the couch. The exhaustion from the emotional storm that had passed left them both drained, but neither could bear to be apart. Y/N nestled into Daniel's side, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around her. The room was quiet now, the only sound being their slow, steady breathing as they tried to find some semblance of peace in each other’s embrace.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, but her mind was still racing. The warmth of Daniel’s body against hers was comforting, but the memories of the hurtful words she had heard kept playing in her mind. Yet, she could also feel the sincerity in Daniel’s touch, the way his hands never stopped moving, as if he were afraid to let her go. She could tell he was struggling too, and that realization tugged at her heart.

As they lay there, the silence between them filled with unspoken apologies and lingering pain, Y/N suddenly felt something wet against her temple. She shifted slightly, tilting her head up to see Daniel’s face, and her heart clenched at the sight of tears streaming down his cheeks. His usually bright eyes were glassy, the usual spark in them dimmed by guilt and sorrow.

“Danny?” she whispered, concern flooding her voice.

Daniel didn’t respond right away, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but the tears kept coming, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. His grip on her tightened as if holding her close would somehow undo the pain he had caused.

Without thinking, Y/N climbed onto his lap, straddling him so she could face him fully. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall. The sight of him like this—so broken, so vulnerable—made her chest ache. She had never seen him cry like this before, and it tore at her heartstrings in a way she couldn’t describe.

“Danny, please,” she murmured, her voice soft and pleading. “Don’t cry.”

But Daniel shook his head, his tears blurring his vision as he looked at her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he choked out, his voice thick with anguish. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I hurt you like that. I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve told them to shut up. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I just… I failed you.”

“Danny…” Y/N’s voice broke as she tried to comfort him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as they both tried to steady themselves.

“I love you so much,” Daniel continued, his voice cracking with each word. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I hate myself for making you feel anything less than that. You’re perfect just the way you are, Y/N. I don’t want you to change, not ever. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, please forgive me.”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her own eyes again, her heart breaking all over at the sheer desperation in his voice. She could see how much this was tearing him apart, how much he regretted what had happened, and it made her realize that he was hurting just as much as she was.

“Danny,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she gently kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears on her lips. “I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I forgive you, okay? I forgive you.”

Daniel let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cradle her face as if he were afraid she might slip away. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I don’t deserve how understanding you are, how forgiving. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N replied, her voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. “You’re everything to me, Danny. I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we’re perfect for each other. And that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this, okay? Together.”

Daniel nodded, his lips trembling as he pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ll do anything to make this right. I just need you to know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re my whole world, Y/N.”

Y/N tightened her hold on him, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him close. “I love you too, Danny,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’m here too. We’ll be okay. We will.”

For a long moment, they just held each other, their tears mingling as they clung to the comfort of being together, of knowing that despite everything, their love was strong enough to weather the storm. Slowly, the tension between them began to ease, replaced by the quiet reassurance that they had each other, and that was enough.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Daniel pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his tears finally beginning to subside. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for forgiving me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me.”

Y/N nodded, her own tears finally slowing as she felt the sincerity in his words. “Just don’t ever shut me out again,” she whispered. “We’re in this together, Danny. Always.”

“Always,” Daniel echoed, his voice filled with a promise as he kissed her gently, sealing the words between them.

[procrastination-queenie]

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem! Actress! Reader.

Synopsis: you express your love for Danny's nose.

Or

Daniel is your favourite pickle.

Warning(s): rude interviewer, mentions of insecurities, very mild smut.

Contains a short smau at the end.

Daniel never gave much thought to how he looked in general, not the physical aspect at least. Style wise, yeah, of course, as a world-famous athlete, he has to take care of how he looks, but that's mostly up to his stylist, especially during important events; such as this one.

Daniel was currently attending one of the most famous awards shows in the entire world, the Oscars, with you, his girlfriend. And never had he thought that someone, particularly an interviewer, would be questioning you about his looks, his physical look, specifically his nose.

"I am sorry, what?" You questioned with a frown on your face. "I just wanted to know what you think of Daniel's nose? Isn't it ... ugh I'd say too big? Has he thought about plastic surgery before?"

You continue to look at the interviewer in disbelief as you try to remain professional. Your facial expressions are not really your best friend. It has betrayed you many times on numerous occasions.

Throughout your entire career, you have learnt that interviewers like these with questions like that are trying to do two things: either provoke you to try and give something to the audience, which is most likely the aim of this question, or they just take the liberty of seeing you as a close friend who they can nag for information about your life. However, even your closest of friends never asked a question like this.

So, as a professional actress and a very loving girlfriend, you played out this situation in a smart way... by truly telling the interviewer how you felt about Danny's nose.

"Oh," you took your time to look at the interviewer before turning to Daniel, who you felt started to withdraw his grip over your waist. Daniel saw nothing in your eyes except love. Your brows were raised in concern and your lips pouty. "Baby, what's wrong with your nose?" You faked concern as you put both of your hands on each side of his face as if inspecting it. Danny chuckled at your adorable act. You asked him in a voice that he heard all the time when you were playing with his nephew. His eyes only focused on you, still holding his face between the palms of your hands, you turned to look at the interviewer with a funny look, as if the man was seeing things.

"I see nothing wrong with him," you almost whispered, turning to look back at Daniel as you stood on your toes to reach him. Daniel thought that you would give him a peck on the lips. Instead, you went for his nose and gave it a gentle kiss. He stood there in awe, looking like a love sick puppy that was wagging its tail happily while looking at the owner of his heart.

"He looks perfect to me. Actually, his nose looks like the Greek status that we see in museums," you said looking back at the interviewer who now grew annoyed by the fact that he couldn't get a reaction out of you or Daniel. "In fact, I think you're jealous because you wish you had a nose like his," you stated as a matter of fact.

The interviewer growing more uncomfortable by the second tried to end the conversation, seeing that you saw through him and did not give him what he wanted.

Daniel, on the other hand, couldn't keep his hand off you all night wanting nothing than to keep you in his arms, loving you, away from any preying eyes. It did not help after you had won the best actress award for your recent film, making him feel like he had won the world championship again.

That night, you straddled Daniel's naked waist wearing nothing but your undergarments and the chemise he had for the Oscars. Both of you, hair looked wild after all the love making you spent doing, feeling so proud of each other. You were staring at his face while your hand was tracing his cheeks softly. "You didn't have to answer that guy tonight, you know." Daniel said, feeling that it was not worth your effort to speak to someone like him. Your hands halted their soft tracing as you looked at him, listening to what he has to say on this. "I've dealt with interviewers like him before. He was not worth your time," Daniel said as his lips kissed your palm that rested on his cheek, eyes refusing to look at yours.

"Hey, look at me," you gently kept his head in its place, preventing him from moving it anywhere. Daniel raised his eyes to meet yours as your fingers continued to trace his cheek again. "I meant every word of what I said that night." Your fixed look on his eyes reflected nothing but sincerity. "Danny, if I could spend the rest of my life listing what I love about you, I'd do it, and it would never be enough," your eyes glistening as you recalled all times that you felt unworthy of his love, and because you didn't want the comment of a stupid ass interviewer to make him feel what you felt at your moments of insecurity. Daniel deserved to be loved for everything that he is. He will always own your heart in a way that no one has ever, or will ever do.

"Baby, what are you tearing up for now?" Daniel hated himself for ruining the mood. He wiped your tears as he took you in his arms. "It's just... I- I love you so much, and I would hate for you to be brought down by someone like that asshole," you sniffed as you hugged Daniel tightly. Daniel sighed as he hugged you back, putting his chin on top of your head.

"And I wanted everyone to know and for you to know that no matter what, you're pretty in my eyes,"

"even if you're turned into a jar of pickles, I would still love you the same," Daniel stiffled a laugh as he moved his head to try and get a look of your face that he's sure is all pouty.

"Yeah, but you'd still love me because you love pickles,"

"Yeah, well, I love you more, though." Daniel laughed so hard as he kissed your forehead. "Oh, wow. I feel special,"

"You should,"

Y/UserName

Liked by danielricciardo and 173,487 others.

Y/UserName Forever, my favourite pickle.🥹✨️🥒

danielricciardo love you, too sweetheart ❤️ why the teary eyed emoji tho? 🥹

↬ Lilymhe @/danielricciardo, come get your gf. She's drunk and won't stop talking about pickles.🫠

↬danielricciardo omw 🏃‍♂️💨

FanUser1 I am feeling more and more single with each post 🙂

FanUser2 @/FanUser3 wake up. Mum is emotional and drunk, again.

FanUser4 We appreciate a drunk girlfriend in love 🤌🏻❤️

landonorris Did she just call you a pickle? 😂

↬maxverstappen1 I'm intrigued 👀

↬danielricciardo y'all just jealous you don't get to have cute pet names like me. 🙄

FanUser5 not Daniel actually taking the pet name seriously 😂

georgerussell63 @/carmenmmundt why am I not your pickle, too? 🥹

↬carmenmmundt George, you hate pickles. 🌚

*danielricciardo liked your comment*

[formulaforza]

—everywhere, everything

keep my hand in yours ('til our fingers decompose) pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: parent death, angst, language, driving under the influence, underage smoking/drinking love, mackie... 6.6k. part two of this guy (but I think can be read stand-alone). I hope I make u all sad enough that you never ask me for a part two ever again <3

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine—the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

— —

Danny is notably absent from your mom’s funeral. Granted, he is in Budapest at the time, and he had two races this weekend. You know this because you still keep tabs on him, even if he’s not yours to keep tabs on anymore, even if there’s nobody to blame for that but yourself. 

If you didn’t know better, hadn’t spotted Grace, Joe and Michelle a dozen or so people back in line to greet you and your dad, you would have been able to convince yourself Danny didn’t have a clue your mom was even sick. She went quick, less than eight months from her death sentence to… well. From death sentence to death. 

Two hundred and thirty-one days since her diagnosis means two-hundred and twenty-eight days since you broke things off with Danny. So even if he was in town, you probably wouldn’t have seen him. You wish you would have though, that he would have appeared in the plethora of grieving faces. Not for you, but for her. She always loved him, even before you did. 

Grace’s arms feel like the light at the end of a dark tunnel when she finally gets to the front of the line. She squeezes you tight, the only way a mother knows how to, and you cry in her arms. Grace doesn’t tell you how sorry she is, or that your mom loved you so much, or that she’s in a better place now. She just hugs you and wipes away your tears. 

“Danny wishes he could be here,” she tells you, but you don’t want to think about him and you don’t want to believe her. 

“Tell him I said ‘thank you?’” you say, a forced smile on your face. It’s got to be the hundredth of the afternoon. If there’s one thing your mom is—was. If there’s one thing she was, it’s loved. Tell him I hate him, is what you wish you could say to Grace. Or maybe tell him I love him. 

A million and two hugs later and you find yourself missing his arms more than you should. He was always a good hugger, and you could use a good hug right now. 

— —

You showed up at the property fifteen minutes after the event started. You’d hoped to slip in and out, to at least be able to say you went, that you tried. You had no intention of trying to find Daniel, and you figured it would be easy to avoid him, especially if you showed up after everyone else did—it’s his show, he’s the man of the hour, everyone will be fighting for his attention. 

You don’t even know why you came, really. Maybe it’s to figure out how the hell Daniel even got your address to send the invite in the first place. You’d moved half a dozen times since he last knew you. Or maybe it’s that you don’t believe, even after seeing it with your own eyes, that somebody actually had success with growing berries in the heat. It could be that you just… It could be simple, that you miss your Mom, and that everything about that place reminds you of her. 

Whatever the reason, you put on a long, flowing sundress, tied your hair back, and slipped on a pair of comfortable sneakers and a denim jacket. You didn’t even bother to tell your Dad—knew he’d want to catch up with Daniel, or maybe want to strangle Daniel. You didn’t want to give him the chance to do either. You park on the dirt road that leads to the vineyard, because the parking lot is overflowing, a pattern you’re beginning to notice since he’d taken over. 

The place looks the same as it did last time you were here. DR3 Wines still adorn the fleet of ATVs out front, and the wooden letters on the perfectly red barn are still perfectly white. You give your name to the woman working the door, regret it as soon as you catch her announcing your presence over the radio-headset she wears. 

Momentarily, you consider turning around and walking right back to your car. But, you aren’t one to waste a good outfit, not if you’d gotten all dolled up like this, so you walk into the Barn with your head down. 

It smells the same inside; wood, lavender, citronella and alcohol. There’s candles burning to make it feel cozy, but they do a poor job at changing the aroma in the air. The walls are still hung with photos, and the counter is still that slab of wood. It’s exactly the same as it was a few months ago, and manages to remind you of the place you grew up without wearing your childhood memories like a costume. 

Daniel has always been easy to find in a room. He’s loud, his voice and his laugh vibrate off the walls of whatever room he’s in. He’s loud and he’s confident and sometimes it feels like he’s the only person in a room that’s really alive. That’s how it felt then, at least. 

It’s been thirteen years since you last shared a space with him, but the fact you can hear his laugh on the other side of the crowded room assures you that while everything has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same. 

You can’t see him, but man can you hear him. 

You sign the guest book—proof, in case anybody asks. Proof that you did show up. It’s the top of a wine barrel, DR3 2023 branded into the oak—two tops, because so many people are here. It’s covered in signatures and messages from people he loves. You feel guilty even signing it, but you do. 

Congrats Dan—your marker pauses. You scoff at yourself. Congrats Daniel. Time flies, 13 years! The place looks beautiful. Wishing you continued success, you write, finishing it off with your signature. 

He still wears the same cologne, you realize, when you look up and he’s leaning against the table watching you write. He wears the same cologne, and the same smile, even if less crooked. Everything else about him is different. His hair is shorter, eyes older. His arms are covered in art, face is all together thinner, and his five o’clock shadow is less of a pipe dream and more of a full-fledged beard. He’s taller, maybe. Or you’re shorter. It doesn’t really matter, you suppose. 

You purse your lips into a curt smile. He matches—you didn’t even know he could smile like that. “Hi, honey,” he says, leaning over to read your message. 

“Hi.” “Who’s Daniel?” He teases, the smile on his face growing into one you’re much more familiar with. You look back at your writing, but you don’t laugh. If anything, you’re sure you look a little scared. “I’m teasing.”

“I know,” you nod.

“Okay,” he nods right back, slow, apprehensive over your apprehension. 

“Sorry,” you force out a chuckle. “I’m being so weird,” and you adjust the strap on your dress. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. Do you know how weird it is to be face to face with someone you were head over feet in love with? It’s really fucking weird. You put your best smile on your face, “Hi, sorry,” you continue, opening your arms for what you think might be the most awkward hug you’ve ever given. 

He’s quick to pull his hands back out of his pocket, like he’s worried if he doesn’t act fast enough you’re going to rescind the offer. 

His touch is uncanny; familiar and comforting and unsettling. It melts the years away and you feel just like you did some twelve years ago when you wished so desperately for one of his hugs. You’re nineteen again, and he’s twenty, and everything feels like it’s going to be okay. 

“How are you,” he asks quietly, his arms tight around you. “You look great.”

“I’m okay,” you say over his shoulder, and then again, as if you’re trying to convince yourself: “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, pulling away from the hug, gesturing your question away. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t know. Even though it’s been eleven years since you forced yourself to ignore his existence, since you last kept any sort of tab on him. You can’t get over how different he looks. How you’d still recognize him without a second glance. “You look different.”

He laughs, looks down at himself. At his arms, his hands. He can’t look at his face, but it’s different, too. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?” He keeps looking back at you every time he laughs. He makes sure you’re laughing, or smiling at least, before he lets his slip. “Is your Dad here?”

“No. He uh, he wasn’t feeling well.”

Once upon a time, Daniel could spot your lies from the other side of the vineyard. You get stiff and stuttery, he told you, it’s easy when you know what you’re looking for. That was once upon a time, though, and this is now. Now, you don’t know if Daniel remembers any of those little things about you. 

His eyes go momentarily soft, worried, almost. “Just a cold, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, can I get you a drink? Give you a tour?”

You look around the place—not much to tour. Not when it used to be yours, not when one of his teenaged employees gave you a tour a few months back. He seems so excited about the idea, though, so you go along with it. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Nice, awesome,” he says, looking around the place like he forgot where everything is. He claps his hands together, pulls them apart into a snap, and points at you with both hands. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, and it’s genuine. “Staying here.”

“I know you, Bee,” he says, walking backwards away from you. B. He totally knows you’re full of shit about your Dad having a cold. “Don’t try to sneak out while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

You nod. “I promise.”

— —

You, Daniel, and your Mom worked the closing shift that night. When he was around, that’s almost always how it went, because the two of you were the only ones who’d worked there long enough to know how to properly close up without a babysitter. 

Your Mom worked tediously in the office counting all the money—she was the slower counter of your parents, but it wasn’t like anyone was ever sitting around waiting on her. There was always something to be done, and Daniel was always good at making sure those closing tasks took up more than a chunk of the evening. 

You’d cleaned inside, swept the floors and vacuumed the rugs and cleaned the tables and the counters. You washed glasses behind the bar and restocked displays. The landline on the counter rang while you were writing up the day’s inventory, and you almost didn’t answer it, but your parents had told you to improve on your customer-service skills, even when you or the customer weren’t on site. 

To your surprise, the voice on the other end was Daniel’s. He was calling from the cellar, is too lazy to come over there to get shot down. “Is your Mom finished counting?” He asked, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to try and listen past the office door. 

“I think so,” you say, bringing the phone back to your ear. “We should be heading out soon.”

Sometimes you feel like you can hear Danny’s smile. “You wanna do the lock check with me?”

You slot the phone between your shoulder and your ear, returning your hands to the task of finishing up your paperwork for the night. You needed to be done when he got here, or there was no chance your Mom let you go with him. “How do you know I’m done with my shit?”

You can hear the lull of the old beat up golf-cart engine in the background, can almost feel the vibrations, can see clear as day Danny sitting there, lounging on the leather seat—tanned skin, unruly hair, toothy grin. “You always finish fast so you can daydream about your boyfriend,” he says, turning the last word into his own little sing-songy ballad. 

Your pen pauses on the paper, and you roll your eyes. “Jake isn’t my boyfriend.”

Danny laughs, and you roll your eyes again, pretend like you aren’t smiling. “Oh? But you knew who I was talking about!”

“Because you never shut up about him being into me.”

“Because he is!”

You set the pen down for good, now, grab the phone again because you want to make sure your next words come across loud and clear, even if it is the millionth time you’ve told him. “He’s my friend, Danny!”

“Oh, come on!” His laugh intensifies. “I don’t think a guy has ever been just friends with you.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

His laughter quells, and you’re sure he’s picking on the plastic of the steering wheel. There are so many scrapes on it from the same thing. He’s always picking at it, ever since you told him to give his poor nails a rest. He has to destroy something, you suppose—teenage boy and all—but you prefer a destroyed golf cart steering wheel to a destroyed Danny, so you let it slide. He sighs, and then he clears his throat, and the memory of your question dies in the silence. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Are you coming to get me?”

— —

The air is chilly—nippy almost, especially with the sun dipping below the horizon like it is. You’re walking stride for stride with Daniel over the gravel path to the cellar, glass of sweet pink wine in your hand. He’s taking you to the strawberry field, per your request, because even after tasting it, even after telling you which field it’s in, you still don’t believe him.

“So,” he asks, one hand deep in his pocket, the other hanging in the space between your bodies. He’s very hesitant with you today, you’ve noticed. It’s nothing like the brash boy you called your first love. He’s gentle, softer, like he’s scared of his next words. “Who finally put that ring on your finger?” The threat of a smile is weak, but the idea of it alone is charming. 

You look at your free hand, carefully decorated with several different rings. “Which one?”

He drops his head to his shoulder, gives you a pathetic smile and a matching chuckle. “The only one an ex-boyfriend would ask you about, Bee.”

The sunlight—the little bit that’s left of it—catches the diamond on your ring finger. “Oh,” you shrug, dropping it back to your side. “It’s Mom’s.”

“I know,” he nods solemnly, and your head shoots over to look at him. You don’t know why he would remember that. “Who put it there, though?”

A smile pulls on your lips, and you bury it in the lip of your wine glass. “I’m not engaged, if that’s what you’re asking,” you laugh. “I just wear it… I don’t know, it makes me feel close to her.”

Sunsets at the property have always been gorgeous. When you were younger, you thought that maybe it was the most beautiful place in the entire world. The blues and the pinks and the yellows all mix together into some grand watercolor and tonight is no exception. 

The silence that lingers in the air should be awkward, but it’s not. It should be harder to be here, to watch the sunset, to walk the paths you have memorized, to stand next to Daniel after all these years. It’s not hard, though. It’s comfortable, like it was when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and barely nineteen. Like it was all the time you knew him, even before you loved him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. “She was really cool.”

You chuckle softly. It’s a familiar routine, consoling those attempting to console you about her death. “That’s what everyone says,” you say, even though Daniel might be the first person to posthumously describe your mom as cool. Lovely, you’d gotten more times than you could count. Beautiful and kind and oh honey, she loved you so much, you knew already. She was really cool, that’s a Danny-original if you’ve ever heard one. 

“I should have been at the funeral.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, because his presence wouldn’t have changed that your Mom was lovely and beautiful and kind and that she wasn’t around to be any of those things anymore. There wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to remedy that reality. “You were busy. We weren’t together,” and before he can come back with something, insists that it’s a bigger deal some decade later than it was, you change the subject. “What about you, though? Putting rings on anyone’s fingers these days?”

He laughs. A person can only get poetic about Daniel’s laugh so many times before it’s easier to just leave it at that. He laughs, everyone around him lights up, and he laughs some more. “Believe it or not, my work-life balance isn’t super great at fostering long-term relationships.”

You don’t exactly know what Daniel’s work-life balance looks like. The last time you paid any attention, he was racing with Toro Rosso. Every update you’d heard since had been one you weren’t looking for—commercials and posters and billboards and word-of-mouth; more than a couple ex-boyfriends and a few stray friends. 

You never cared much about racing. It was Daniel you cared about. 

There aren't a lot of specifics you remember about Daniel’s schedule, but you remember that he was almost always coming or going. There wasn’t much staying, and that was before he’d even made it to the big show. “You mean, women like it when their partners are around for most of the year?”

“They do, yeah,” he nods, dimples digging into his cheeks. “Crazy, right?”

“Crazy.”

— — 

Danny didn’t go down without a fight. He caught what had to have been the first flight home—home, you’re not sure that he can call Perth home now that he doesn’t live here. He caught the first flight to you, threw wood chips at your window at three-in-the morning. He didn’t need to wake you up, it’s been two weeks since you had any kind of meaningful sleep. You spend the majority of your time in bed looking at the ceiling fan spin or staining the sheets with your tears. 

You let him throw mulch for twenty minutes though, hoping that maybe he’ll give up and leave so you don’t have to face him. 

You’d done the breaking up over the phone for a reason. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait until whenever he was home next. You could. It was that you couldn’t break up with him while looking him in the eyes, and you knew it. 

Eventually, though, you pull your pajama-clad frame out from under the warm covers, drag your feet the entire way to the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to confirm what you already knew—that it was him in the driveway. His entire face relaxes when he sees you there, forcing the window open. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck am I doing?” He scoffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You cross your arms over your chest. The night air is cold and your pajamas are scarce. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes, always dramatic, always over-the-top. “Come down here, honey.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You stand there in silence, shivering in your bedroom window. He stands there in silence, thick jacket on and a handful of wood chips from the garden in your driveway. It’s a stalemate, and you don’t know which of you is more exhausted. Appearance points to him, but you dread that fact that you’re standing, that you’re tired enough to give up the fight this quick. 

“Fine,” you relent, and it’s less than two minutes before you’re running into him on the back porch, slowly closing the sliding patio door behind you so as to not alert anyone else in the house of his presence. “What do you want?”

“Where are your clothes?” He asks, and is already taking his coat off to wrap around your frame. You huff and puff the entire time he’s doing it, because your lack of clothing was a choice—you were hopeful that he wouldn’t keep you long if you were shivering. 

“What do you want, D?”

“I want you to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Your lip trembles, and you bite down on it to try and stop it, chew on the skin until you taste copper and then it still trembles. You don’t look at him, you can’t. “You can’t fix it.”

“No, no,” he argues, grabbing your elbow in a plea, stepping closer to you, speaking hardly above a whisper. “Just tell me, baby.”

You yank your arm away, tone a direct contrast to his when you insist: “You can’t fix it this time, okay!? Nobody can fix it.” You point an accusatory finger, like there’s actually something he’s done to deserve this. There isn’t, there never will be. “You can’t fucking fix everything just because you want to.”

He matches, points his finger at you, presses it into the middle of your chest. Your heart races. “You can’t just fucking break up with me because you want to.”

You swat his hand away, offended by the accusation that you wanted this, that any part of you is enjoying this, finding relief in this. You hate this. Fucking loathe it, but it doesn’t change any of the facts. “I don’t want to,” your lips downturn into a frown, all pathetic and trembled, and your voice cracks and shakes half as much as your lips. The tears that burn in your eyes are reflected back in his, tired and bloodshot and wet. 

“Then don’t do it,” he pleads. 

You gulp around the lump in your throat, voice leaving your body meekly through tears. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he assures you quickly, his hands slotting on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears, his fingers locking into the hair at the nape of your neck. He shakes his head before he speaks, brown eyes searching yours, begging you to change your mind. “You don’t.”

His hands on your face are what push you over the edge, turn you from poised and sniffly to half-wrecked—choking on sobs and swallowing snot. It all hits you at once, all the weeks of testing, the days of trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, the hours spent grappling with the fact that nothing will ever be the same about you. You’re changed, now, and you’re only going to continue to change. It’s not Daniel’s responsibility to see you through any of this fucking shit.  “I do, I do,” you sob. “I have to, I’m so sorry, I have to.”

He presses his forehead against yours, your tears mixing with his every time your noses bump. It calms you, if only slightly, and your eyes close, mind focused on remembering this, on remembering what it feels like to have his skin on yours, to feel his voice in your bones, to breathe in the same air, the same space, the same atoms. 

Your breath is shaky, but the pattern is steady. In, out. In, out. Your nose is so stuffed you can’t breathe through it. Your lips are all but touching his, a stray tremble holding the power to force them together. You don’t know if you want to kiss him or not, if it would make things better or so much worse. 

He swallows hard, pulling your faces apart. “I love you,” he mutters softly, like a wounded animal, and then he presses a long, hard kiss into your forehead. 

You sniffle, your hands holding onto his wrists. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, drops his arms, your hands falling into his. “Yeah.”

He lets your hands go, lets you go. You feel like you might be sick watching him walk down the steps of the patio, along the path of pavers to the gate. A shiver runs up your spine, and you pull his jacket closed over your chest. His jacket. 

You wipe a new set of tears from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Your jacket,” you sniffle, “hold on.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to face you. “Keep it,” he says, unlatching the gate and slipping through to the other side. You sigh, and then you cough, and then you cry some more before finally finding the ability to move again, to go back inside and up to your bedroom, and that was that. That was the last time you saw Danny. The last moment that he was yours. 

— —

You’re walking back from the unbelievable strawberry field, quickly approaching the still lively barn, people and smiles and conversations pouring out into the adjacent spaces. Someone appears in front of you with a camera, with two cameras—one professional, and one a cheap polaroid. Smile, they said, and you laughed, your cheeks burning red. 

Daniel slinks his arm over your shoulder, and you step closer to his side. He flashes a toothy grin and a shaka sign to the camera. You hear the shutter of the camera take a dozen photos, and then the photographer holds up the polaroid—one for the road, she says, and Daniel pulls you that little bit closer, you blush that little bit harder. 

There’s a flash, and then you both relax, the photo printing out of the bottom of the camera. She holds it out Daniel, but he nudges you with his elbow to take it. You do, even though you aren’t sure you want it. 

You shake the polaroid while the two of you make your way into the barn. “What do I do with this?” You ask, looking carefully at the developed print. 

Daniel shrugs, leaning over. You flip the photo in his direction so he doesn’t have to lean as far, but he still does. “It’s cute,” he says. “You don’t want it?”

“I mean, I’ll take it, but…” But. But I’m going to throw it away when I get home. But it only reminds me of you. But it only represents what won’t be. 

He looks to the wall of photos behind the counter, eyeing the display carefully. You follow his sight line, your eyes going to the exact place you remember the photos of you being. You don’t know why you’re surprised that they’re still there, like you knowing they exist means they’d vanish. “Hang it up,” he says. 

You laugh. “Where?”

Daniel shrugs. “Anywhere you want.”

— —

The best part about only being able to afford cheap workers, was that you spent every day at the property with a new teenager looking to have just as much fun as you were. Between that, and the plethora of college kids that were constantly leaving to go back to school, to get a grown-up job, to get any job that paid more than your family could offer—there was always an opportunity for going away parties. And party, you did. 

You and your coworkers turned friends had slept down by the river more summer nights than you could count, hiding six-packs in the staff locker-room and hiding ziploc bags of joints behind the six-packs. 

Tonight, the going-away party is to honor someone whose face you won’t remember in a year, much less thirteen. He’d worked there for the holidays and not much more, and there wasn’t much memorable about him. 

The bonfire on the back of the property snaps and crackles, sparking off into the night and lights everyone in flickers of orange and yellow. The breeze has picked up after dark, and the tank-top and shorts you’d donned earlier in the day aren’t appropriate any more, one of Danny’s hoodies—a purple one that sits in his locker just for you to steal and smells like weed and wood from all the past nights just like this one—takes the chill out of the night and keeps the goosebumps off your exposed legs. 

The sky is clear and cloudless, a big moon staring back at you and a million shining stars fill the night sky. It’s times like these you think there’s no prettier place on Earth, nights like these where you feel completely rich. 

Two joints are being passed around the circle lazily, laughter and conversation filling the air. The first one comes your way from the left, from Daniel. He takes a long hit, the embers at the end of the paper burning orange with his inhale. He holds it in, nodding his way through someone else’s joke, and exhaling into a laugh. 

He looks at you, hesitates to hand it over. “I really don’t want a lecture from your parents tomorrow morning,” he teases, playful smile pulling on his lips, mischievous glint in his eye. 

You roll your eyes. “They won’t know,” you insist, to no avail. Daniel chuckles, but holds his resolve and passes the joint around you to the next person. 

Undeterred, you keep your eyes on the joint that moves clockwise, that comes to you from the other direction, a path with no Danny-sized roadblock. With practiced ease, you take a hit, exhaling slowly, savoring the warmth in your chest. You meet Danny’s eyes on exhale, find them half-amused and half-concerned, brows raised and smile drawn. 

“Whatcha got there?” He laughs, gently taking the joint from her. “I told you not to,” he continues, taking a hit himself before passing it along again. You grin, a wave of giddiness washing over you. It always goes like that when he laughs—makes you all warm and fuzzy and silly. 

“It’ll be okay, Danny-boy,” you laugh, leaning against him. Lazily, without hesitation, he tosses his arm over your shoulder and pulls you that much closer. You like being closer, can feel his laugh instead of just hearing it. You like the way his arm rests on your shoulder, the way his fingers trace patterns over the fabric of his sweatshirt, every touch echoing on your skin for minutes. You like being close, even if it makes your palms a little sweatier and your heartbeat a little faster. You could get used to being closer, you think. 

The fire is starting to die out now, and the air gets colder. You wonder how long your parents waited up for you to get home. The original excuse was that Daniel had forgotten the lock-check, that you wanted to come along and really, it’s no problem to drive her home. After about fifteen minutes, you’d snuck away from the newly-built fire to make a phone call, to let them know you were grabbing food on the way home and don’t wait up for me. You’re sure they did, though, even if only for a while longer. 

Anyway, the air is colder and the joints have been smoked through and the beers have been drunk—not by you, you’re too messy when you’re crossed. And not by Daniel, either, who refuses to drive drunk but insists on driving high. 

You yawn under Daniel’s arm, find a way to somehow lean in closer. “Sleepy?” he asks, and you nod. Carefully, like he’s done it a million times before, he presses a kiss into the crown of your head. It’s not the millionth time, it’s not even the second time he’s kissed any part of you. It’s the first time you've felt the press of his lips and you think that you’ll feel it there forever. “You wanna go?”

“No,” you say. “I’ll stay, make sure the fire gets out and everything.”

It’s not much longer, anyway, until the fire is being doused with water bottles and beer and everyone is taking turns spraying the same perfumes and colognes over their clothes in a poor attempt to mask the smell of smoke and weed. 

Daniel drives you home. It’s not the first time you’ve been the passenger in his old Ford Bronco. It’s not even the first time you’ve been in the truck while he was high. Usually, car rides with Danny consist of cranked down windows and loud music, of louder conversations and excessive laughter. This drive is quiet, though. 

His hands are steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. There’s no music, the windows are up, and he doesn’t talk. You watch him carefully from the passenger seat, study him in your paranoia. You haven’t done anything, you don’t think. There’s no reason for him to be mad at you. Unless there is. 

“Did you have a good time?” You ask. Danny nods. “That’s good.”

He turns to face you at a stop sign. “Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m trying to focus.”

“It’s okay,” you nod. 

“It’s harder,” he explains. “It’s hard with you here.”

— — 

The evening you’d anticipated is far from the evening that unfolds. Fifteen minutes, maximum, in and out. That was the plan. But then Daniel—Daniel, and all the far-fetched dreams of him making himself at home in your life, all the passing thoughts you’d had over the years about the what-ifs; the grocery bills and the taxes and the white wine and the rusty barn doors. He glues you to his side for hours that feel like minutes. 

The event is winding down, people keep coming up to him, firm pats on the back and handshakes and hugs goodbye. They tell him how great the place is, how great the wine is, how great he is, and you move around like his shadow, smiling awkwardly whenever someone catches your eye and waiting for the next joke Daniel has to crack quietly, just to you.

You stand at a high-table next to him, elbows on the tabletop, shoulders bumping everytime one of you moves. There were people around the table, a reason—an excuse—for the proximity, but they’re long gone now.  “You know,” Daniel says quietly, dropping his head against his hands, speaking to nobody in the room but you. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

“Yeah,” you nod, speak just as softly. “Me too.”

He takes a long drink from the wine glass in front of him. Liquid courage, you know now, for what he was going to do next. The glass returns to the tablecloth with a soft pat, and he lets out a heavy exhale. “I heard there’s a new coffee place opening in Northbridge?” He asks, and you assume it’s because he knows your neighborhood, wants to know more about it. The wine has made you naive, or maybe you’d just pushed the reality of his implication so far from your mind that it’s an impossible thought. 

“Yeah,” you nod. The new coffee shop in Northbridge is a seven minute walk from your apartment, and is on your way to work. You’ve been eyeing the place since the empty building went up for lease. “It’s got this super cute bakery right next door,” you add. “I think they opened last week.”

Daniel nods. “I’d love to try it out.”

“Yeah,” you continue, still genuine and naive and oh-so silly. “You should. I’ve heard good things.”

He laughs, then. Laughs this specific kind of Daniel laugh that you used to get so excited to hear. It meant he was going to do something for—or to—you. He’d laughed like that before he kissed you for the first time, and he’d laughed like that while orange juice ran down his arm and he asked you out for the hundredth time. He’d laughed like that on every anniversary, every birthday, every holiday. It’s Danny’s you laugh. “I’d need someone to go with, though,” he says. And the laugh and the words and the whole thing clicks. Daniel is trying to ask you out. “I don’t really know my way around Northbridge.”

A lie, objectively. One that confirms the assumption you’d just jumped to. Daniel’s first apartment was in Northbridge. He lived eleven minutes from where you live now. He knows the place like the back of his own hand, knows the streets like he used to know you. 

You nod into the bottom of your wine glass, watching the liquid spin around the clear glass. “You don’t?”

He purses his lips, looks all deep in thought. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Oh,” you frown, your eyes meeting his. It’s really hard to mess with him when he looks at you like that. Hard, but not impossible. “My dad’s usually around.”

He chuckles. “Your dad, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, a smile pulling impossibly hard on your lips. “Retirement and all, you know.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I guess…” you shrug, stop spinning your glass and set it down altogether. You push it slowly across the tablecloth towards the center. “I could always show you around, too.”

He leans back, stands up straight and scratches his beard, makes a piss-poor attempt at wiping the dimpled smile off his face when he cocks his head to the side and says, “As much as I like your dad…”

“As much as you like my dad.”

And, because Daniel was never really Daniel, because he’s always going to be your Danny, no matter the time or the distance or anything else that should get in the way, he says: “You’ve always been my honeybee.”

— —

“Don’t call me that, Mom,” you shouted from the office, gathering your morning gear. You were working tours with Danny, today, and the two of you had spent all morning bickering over who gets to be lead and who has to be secondary guide. While you shoved the batteries into the walkie-talkies, you could overhear Danny successfully pleading with your Mom. Honeybee, she’d called out to you. Let Danny take Lead today, won’t you? 

She laughs. You roll your eyes, slipping behind the counter where she leans, where Danny lounges on a stool. You toss Danny’s walkie at his chest, and he catches it before it hits him. She raises her brows pointedly, meets Danny’s eyes in some shared language, a shared silent remark about you. “Why not?”

“Because. It sounds like something Grandma would say.”

Your mom smiles, twirls the end of your ponytail around her finger. “But you’re so sweet”

Danny chokes on his laugh, shooting up straight in his seat to clear his throat, to cough into his elbow. “She is NOT sweet.”

You scowl, shove his shoulder gently. It only makes him, and your mom, laugh harder. “Hey!”

“You make my life sweet, baby girl,” she hums. 

Danny nods, falling back into his comfortable spot, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re kinda like a bee,” he says, leaning back even further. Your entire day would be made by him losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. “You make her life sweet but for me…” he pauses. “You’re just this annoying little buzzing I can’t shoo away.”

Silently, you hold up both middle fingers to him, walking backwards out from behind the counter, towards the back door. Your mom only laughs at you, always laughs at you and Danny. “Love you, Bee,” she calls to you, and winks at Danny. 

“Yeah,” he calls, the stool creaking underneath him as he properly stands up. “Love ya, Bee!”

[mythunderstorm]

We‘ll be okay | DR3

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

summary: It’s normal to argue. You know that. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less, even tho you know you and Daniel will work it out in the end.

warnings: bit angsty, actually not sure what else to say. Soft ending tho

a/n: i‘m so sorry for not posting a lot atm. I have so many drafts but I can’t seem to finish them. Whenever I try to write it’s like my brain shuts off completely. Not even sure if this is any good but it’s the only thing I was able to complete, so enjoy ig haha

masterlist

Arguments. They‘re normal, every couple has to face them at one point. Some argue more, some less. But it’s normal. They happen, you talk it out, you make up. Normal.

You and Daniel argue. Normal. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. Normal. What wasn’t normal, is that you had to leave the apartment. It wasn’t normal for him to yell at you like this, both of you throwing words at each other you didn’t actually mean. Not normal.

You had to get out, leave for a bit. Before anyone of you says something you can’t take back at the end.

You wander around, aimlessly. It‘s raining, hard. You didn’t bring an umbrella with you, but you didn’t care. The water droplets on your skin felt kind of refreshing.

Your phone beeped, your boyfriend worries about you being alone, out in this weather at night. He sent multiple messages, telling you to come home.

The feeling of relieve fills your chest, glad that he’s still caring about you, even after the fight. But you ignore his messages, at least for now, needing some space to clear your head a bit. He was really mean tonight, something that basically never happened, not like this. You understand that he’s frustrated, not being able to race this season, but that’s not your fault.

Just because you said that you’re glad to spend some more time with him now, happy to have him to yourself for a while, doesn’t mean you don’t support his dreams and career. You’re proud of him, always have been, always will. But being away from him so much is hard and you really really missed him over the last year.

After a while you stop at a little café that was open late. Exactly what you needed right now. You sat by the window, ordering a cup of tea while watching the rain pour.

Your phone beeps once again.

„I'm really worried about you, the weather forecast said that there will be thunder too, you should really come back home.“

Your thoughts and emotions whirle around your head as you stare out the window.

With a sign, you type back a quick message to let him know you’re safe and not outside in this horrible weather. You may be mad at him but you’re not so cruel to let him suffer and worry about your well-being for the rest of the night.

But a part of you still doesn’t want go back home.

You look around the café, noticing that it is completely empty except for you and the barista. It is quiet, calm, peaceful. No one would be yelling at you here. No one would be blaming you for everything.

At first you just needed a break, now... now you needed an escape.

You look out of the window again, watching the raindrops sliding down the glass. It’s like they’re racing against each other. Even something small like rain on a window reminds you of him. It keeps your mind occupied for a while, watching the water glide around the surface but you’re still thinking about him. You’re always thinking about him.

It’s like the weather mirrors your exact feelings at the moment, like it’s trying to tell you that you’re not alone.

You put your phone aside, not responding to the rest of Daniel‘s texts. His mind was always full with thoughts about racing, training and other things related to his profession. And you understand, he loves his job. And you don’t blame him for that.

But you have feelings too, you have feelings that you want him to acknowledge sometimes. You need him to realize that. To recognize how upset you are and how hurt you feel.

Your thoughts spiraled down deeper and deeper as you watch the rain outside. The water droplets, they look like tears.

You sign again, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You know you and Daniel will work it out, like you always do. You love him and you know he loves you. Arguments happen and you understand he’s frustrated, even though it’s not okay for him to put the blame on you. You both need some space, time to calm down before you can face each other to actually talk about it. But you‘ll be okay. Everything will be okay in the end.

The rain starts hitting the window harder than before, making it difficult to see the world outside.

Taking a sip of your tea, you look at the clock. It’s already 1 in the morning. You feel a bit guilty. It's late, really late.

You pick up your phone, hesitating as you look at Daniel's last message. He was panicking about the storm and kept telling you that he was worried. You know him, he's usually not the hysterical kind.

„I‘m inside a Café, don’t worry. I‘ll wait a bit until the storm calms before I come home.“

You think for a moment, not sure if you should send the next text. You want to but.. fuck it.

„I love you.“ you type and hit send quickly, before you can change your mind. But you mean it, because you do. You love him.

A notification appears instantly on your phone. It's a message from Daniel. It reads „I love you too."

Your heart skips a beat. Of course, your love still means the world to him.

You close your eyes and picture his face. When Daniel smiles at you, his eyes sparkle in a way that no one else's eyes could. He's so good at showing his emotions through his eyes…

Ding. Another message.

„Please come home honey, I can't take it another second."

You smile softly at the nickname. You look out of the window again, the storm seems to get only worse. You want to go home, right now. But you know it wouldn’t be the best idea, not in this weather. But you don’t care. You pay your tea, tipping the barista generously, before making an exit to finally get home. To the person you love most.

As soon as you enter your apartment you see Daniel standing there, waiting for you. You lock eyes for a moment, neither of you saying anything... It's quiet. The only sound you hear, is from the rain outside.

Daniel is smiling at you, and he starts walking towards you. He softly puts his arms around your drenched body, pulling you close and kissing your forehead gently. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your face is turning red.

„Sorry“ you whisper into his chest, hiding your face in his sweater. You’re tearing up again, breathing in his scent.

"I should be the one to say sorry." You hear Daniel's voice whispering into your hair as he holds you tight. "I was cruel, I should never speak to you like that. Never." His words are soothing to your ears.

Even though you were fighting badly only hours prior, you felt safe. It has been a long time since you felt this safe. Since you felt this protected.

Just then Daniel takes a step back to look at you, as if he was admiring your face. Then he leans in to kiss you, needing to feel that you’re real. That you’re here, that you came home. The kiss only last a few seconds but it’s soft, gentle and full of love.

Yes. You‘ll be okay.

Daniel's lips on your face feel like heaven and you close your eyes, not wanting to let the situation end just yet... but before you could do anything, his hands reach for your face, gently moving you away. For a second, you were scared to look at him but he's just fixing your wet hair.

"Let's get you warm," he smiles as he guides you into the kitchen, the warm light from the lit oven illuminating your face. You enjoy the warmth for a moment while Daniel was already boiling water for some tea.

„I- I‘ll go change into some dry clothes real quick“ you whisper into the quiet kitchen, watching him move around the room to prepare the tea.

Your boyfriend nods and smiles at you, putting his hand on your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Go ahead, let me make you some tea" he smiles as he pushes your hair away from your face again.

The kettle whistles, it's boiling. Daniel picks it up and pours the hot water into two cups, putting lemon in both of them. The scent of lemon fills the room, mixed with Daniel's cologne.

You disappear into your shared bedroom, quickly getting rid of your wet clothes, throwing them into the hamper. Grabbing one of Daniels Hoodies, you pull it over your head and instantly hold the collar up to your nose, taking in his scent. Wiping your tear stained face with the sleeves, you take a deep breath before returning back to the kitchen where Daniel‘s waiting for you.

He is leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you slowly while the tea waits for you on the table. Two hot cups of tea, steaming up the kitchen.

Looking at his face, you find him smiling at you when he notices you’re wearing his hoodie. He wraps his free arm around you, pulling you close.

He kisses your head softly and whispers in your ear. "Drink it, it will warm you up."

Daniel's arms encircle you, squeezing you like he never wants to let you go.

You didn’t want to ruin the mood but you had to ask. You and Daniel were always good at communicating in the past and you didn’t want to stop now by pushing this argument away, you had to talk about it for the problem to be completely solved.

„We still need to talk. Not now, but.. we need to talk.“ You whisper, leaning closer into Daniels arms, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

„You're right, we will talk." His voice is soft. „Not now though. For now, let's enjoy this tea. And... let's just be together." Daniel said as he kisses you again on the cheek and your still damp hair brushes against his face.

He was right. You need some rest. It's late, after all. And what happened shouldn't be discussed when you're both tired. Let alone now, when you're so peaceful.

„We‘ll be okay“ you whisper, a short promise. To him and yourself, that your love is stronger than an argument like that. You‘ll work it out. And it‘ll be okay. Like always.

[baw-sixteen]

would've could've should've - dr3

pairings: daniel ricciardo x op81 social media manager! reader

they could've been so much more

July 9, 2023

You stared at the picture in the darkness of your hotel room. You should've known. Everyone was talking about it.

Nyck has had a terrible rookie year so far. Knowing Marko, knowing Red Bull they needed more. More points, more perfection.

You couldn't say you weren't happy. You were happy. For him. You were elated.

Daniel loved racing. He had told you that before. You had felt it - every time he got into that Mclaren, every time he had done a better score than before.

He wasn't jobless. No. He could never be. Not till the day Christian Horner was still alive. You knew that.

You see the news yet?

You sat up on the bed. That empty feeling inside you shifted at the text.

The last few weeks were bad. Bad for Oscar. Bad for Mclaren.

Bad for you.

But who cared about that?

Oscar was good. He was very easy to handle. He was less trouble than Daniel.

The few people who cared about the fans' backlash had suddenly dropped to one. You were just a social media manager.

I would've stayed on my knees.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil

But he wasn't Daniel.

He could never be what you two were.

Yeah.

You did.

You had seen the news.

___________________________________________

"I'm sorry"

A very tired Michael stared at you.

"What's there to be sorry about, yn?"

You laughed. You actually laughed.

The fans were incredibly intelligent you'd give them that. The theories that you, Michael, Yuki and Lando had read on the internet were crazy.

All this time, both you and Michael had got a lot of backlash from the fans. All because you loved your job more than him. All because Mike wanted to share a bit about him to the fans.

And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

Believable. But crazy.

They said you were draining him off his money. That Michael starved him. Gave him severe training. Just to make him perfect.

There was not a single bone in his body you wanted to change. For the better or for the worse. It's what made you fall in love with him.

How you wished sometimes you could just scream it at the world that he already was perfect.

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?

His smile. His charm. His stupidity. His laugh.

That scar on his knee. Or that cut on his chin.

You loved all of him.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do when I see him."

You always had.

Years of tearing down our banners, you and I

He was tired too.

"I heard he didnt ask Pyry for training?"

"No. Says he doesn't need it. Doesn't need anyone. A lone wolf."

"Lone wolf, my ass."

A small smile graces both of your faces. No matter what he said. You knew him better.

Memories feel like weapons.

The moment you walked into the hotel your eyes caught him. Head thrown back with a laugh louder than the fans outside. Smile brighter than the Hungarian morning.

"Yn!"

All eyes fell on you as Lando waved you over from where he was sitting among the drivers in the lobby.

The world felt like it stopped as honey coloured irises met yours.

The eyes that once spoke forever to you, were cold, dark - they were trying to drown you in them, choke you with your own guilt.

You heart felt like it shattered into a million pieces as he looked away from you and turned back to where Max was sitting.

And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

You could hear Lando saying something but you felt dizzy. Tears started to blur your eyes as that pounding in your chest grew louder and louder.

"I'll speak to you later Lando."

You forced your shaky voice to speak as your feet carried yourself to the elevator as fast as they could. But what your retreating figure could notice was the way he shivered.

Your voice still had an effect on him.

God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be.

The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind

A sob erupted from your throat the moment the elevator door closed. Hot, steaming tears rolled down your face.

The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign

As long as Daniel Ricciardo was going to be around, you would never be the same.

I regret you all the time

Oh Daniel, we could've been so much more.

Could've, Would've, Should've.

____________________________________________

author's note: hi everyone!! well here it is!! since you wanted a part 2!!

[f1letters]

the great war | dr3

"my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War"

summary: after the media was filled with cheating rumours involving her husband, she faced hard times trying to rebuild what was left of their relationship

warning: angst, mentions of cheating allegations, the other woman involved has a name (Skylar James is a fictional character), lack of trust, temporary separation between a married couple, fluff ending

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

word count: 3.9k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past, and a public statement.

I'm sorry I took this long to post it, but I'm so happy I was still able to finish this today as I initially promised! hope you enjoy this one!

masterlist

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

And maybe it was egos swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

Isn't it sad how in a blink of an eye one single person can destroy your entire world?

Y/N felt exactly like at that moment. Her floor had collapsed, the walls around her had caved in, her roof had fallen on top of her.

She couldn't believe what her eyes were reading on the small screen she held in her hands. A thousand unanswered questions, a thousand unexplained feelings, a thousand screams trapped in her throat.

I might be sleeping still, this is a nightmare, it has to be, she thought as she looked for an excuse. 

After all, it all started when she woke up in the middle of the night and decided to pick up her phone, expecting to see a message from her husband that should be on his way home after a week of work. 

What she didn't expect was to have so many texts from her friends and family, and complete radio silence from the person who held all the answers she was looking for.

"Daniel Ricciardo caught in 'cheating' storm after an eventful night in Miami"

"McLaren's Daniel Ricciardo packs on the PDA with American model amid divorce rumours"

"SINGLE HONEYBADGER: everything we know about the Australian driver's wild night behind his wife's back"

"Divorce? Ricciardo seen with woman in Miami club... Spoiler alert: it wasn't Y/N Ricciardo"

It was everywhere.

In every magazine, every gossip page, every social media platform.

They were photos of her husband at a nightclub, clear as day. She couldn't deny it. She could recognize the distinctive curls of his hair, the characteristic smile that was always plastered on his face, and the shape of his body that she knew as if it were her own.

There was something that she couldn't recognize though. Maybe it was her. 

Model body, long red hair, short white dress that reflected the purple lights of the bar. And especially Daniel's arms wrapped around a body that wasn't hers, but some other girl who was grabbing her husband's neck, with one hand straying through his hair, just as she had done dozens of times before.

She never felt like this. Somewhere in the haze of the media, she could only get a sense that she'd been betrayed.

She stayed like that for hours. Reading all the news, seeing all the photos, looking at all the comments. It wasn't at all what she needed at that moment. But in an act of masochism and in the absence of the man she loved, she stayed there, seated against the headboard of their king-sized bed, in the cold of dawn, all alone in the house the couple had called home for so many years.

Completely destroyed from the inside out.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

What a fool, her mind kept repeating. But what to expect from a relationship that has advanced at lightning speed?

She still remembered the day they met as if it were yesterday, and she was perfectly aware that it was a moment she would never forget, no matter what happened.

No matter how much of the world she might travel, Canada was always going to be her home, right next to the people she loved.

One of them being her childhood best friend Chloe Stroll, with all her craziness and her giant heart. No one in the world understood Y/N better than the singer, and it had always been that way from the moment they became friends at the young age of 7.

The two of them were sitting on the terrace of Y/N's favourite Italian restaurant in the beautiful city of Montreal. 

It all started when Chloe wanted to introduce her new boyfriend to her best friend. No relationship lasted without the seal of approval from the other half of the duo, so they both knew the importance of this meeting.

However, the two girls were taken by surprise when Scotty had the same idea and didn't show up alone, seeking the approval of his fellow Aussie friend. And what a surprise. Daniel simply stood out in the crowd, radiating from all sides like the star he was.

And without even realizing it, a casual lunch to celebrate the beginning of a relationship became a double date that symbolized the start of a whirlwind romance.

She had spent all day glued to Daniel, her eyes almost unable to remove themselves from his image. But the same thing happened on the other side: the driver couldn't have been more fascinated by her, something that provoked an exchange of suspicious glances between Chloe and Scotty, aware of the chemistry between their two friends.

And as crazy as it might sound to the people around them, in the space of nine months, the two of them were walking out of a church in Perth, hand in hand, wedding bands on their ring fingers, her in a long white dress, him in his best navy blue suit.

They couldn't care less about others' opinions and fears about their relationship. They were head over heels in love with each other and that was enough to be sure they were making the right decision.

However, at that moment, the young woman did not know if this was true.

She couldn't stop thinking about the countless times she'd been warned about the playboy fame her now-husband had before he met her. 

Did he really cheat on me? Had he done it other times before? Was it the end of us? Their dream love story was over.

The sound of the apartment's front door opening and closing brought her back to reality. 

It was him.

Always remember

Uh-huh, tears on the lеtter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If wе survived the Great War

Her body stayed still as she heard the sound of keys being placed on the kitchen counter and the suitcase being dropped on the floor in a hurry. But she just stood there, almost as if she was frozen in fear of facing reality.

The wooden door to their bedroom was opened and she immediately noticed Daniel standing at the bottom of the bed. His eyes were on his wife who, in return, couldn't even look in his direction, her gaze drawn to the white sheets that covered her body instead.

"Baby?" He broke the silence, his voice trembling.

She kept silent on the outside, but on the inside, her thoughts spoke too much. She searched for words to say, but sentences seemed impossible to form in the state she was in.

"I didn't do anything, I swear." He said, in a pleading tone. Y/N felt the mattress drop with the weight of Daniel's knee on it as he tried to get closer to her.

As soon as she felt his icy hand touch her thigh, she unconsciously reacted, pulling her body away from his touch, as if it burned like fire.

"Please." Daniel pleaded, revealing the pain her action had caused him. "Trust me, baby. Please. I didn't do anything." He repeated.

"It didn't look like that." The coldness in her voice was everything he didn't want to hear after the torture that had been the hours of silence during his flight from the United States to Monaco.

"She was trying to talk to me and I didn't think too much of it because she came with some of Lando's friends. You have nothing to worry about." He tried to justify himself. "The media is just exaggerating to sell some non-existent drama stories."

"Just exaggerating?!" She replied, with a louder volume than she perhaps intended, as she allowed herself to look at him for the first time. "Have you seen the photos? Can you imagine what people are saying about you? About me? I look like a fucking idiot."

"And so what they think like that?" His shoulders shrugged, in complete disinterest. "Let them talk. What matters here is that you and I know that these things are nothing more than ridiculous rumours."

"And do I know that?" He was sure he could hear his own heart break at the words coming out of his wife's mouth. "The issue here isn't what people say or don't say. What about me? What about my fucking feelings?!"

"You don't believe me. Is that what you're saying?" Daniel kept up with Y/N's change in tone and now also spoke angrily in his words.

"You've been playing with fire and now you expect me to sit here, watch this shit everywhere and still trust you blindly. How do you want me to believe that nothing happened when there's a bunch of photos of you clinging to some other woman?!" She rose from the bed, placing herself directly in front of him.

"Because we're married! Because I took a vow that I would be loyal to you until death do us part!" He yelled, taking a step closer to her, outraged at the lack of trust in him she was showing. "Because I fucking love you… That should be enough for you." He whispered, realizing they were walking a thin line.

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talking

Screaming from the crypt

Telling me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

As soon as the last sentence left the driver's mouth, he left the room and walked at a fast pace to the room, with Y/N following his path right behind him.

This is it, she thought when she saw him reach again for the suitcase he was carrying before. This is the end of us, right here.

"Where are you going?" Her voice cracked as tears threatened to escape her eyes.

"I'd better not spend the night here. If I stay, things will only escalate and I can't risk losing you because I said shit I shouldn't since I'm upset about this whole situation." Daniel admitted with his eyes mirroring hers, also in tears. Both were surrounded by fear and anger, even if it was for different reasons.

Her body physically ached when she saw his figure disappear through the door. She let her back lean against the hallway wall and descend until she sat on the tiled floor.

The only thing left for her to do was cry. And she did just that. For hours, she stayed there, crying uncontrollably, releasing all the hurt and heartbreak that consumed her.

Eventually, she gained enough courage to get up and walked over to their bed, trying to get some sleep. However, as exhausted as she felt, she spent the rest of the night awake, with the numbers on her nightstand's clock tormenting her, seeming to go slower and slower as time advanced.

She didn't even know where he was. Was he with Max? With Lando? With ... her? She didn't even want to think about that awful scenario, but God, it was hard not to wander in painful thoughts without him there to reassure her.

As soon as the woman saw "6 A.M." displayed on the alarm clock, she decided it was a waste of time to stay there, so she got up, sat on one of the benches on the marble kitchen island and prepared herself a bowl of cereal to eat.

She picked up her phone for the first time since her husband left the apartment and hadn't even unlocked it when she read two words: I'm sorry.

Two words from Chloe, not Daniel. And followed by a link from TMZ.

When she thought she couldn't get out of this with her soul more crushed, she read the title in very big and bold letters.

"EXCLUSIVE: Skylar James reveals all about scandalous affair with Daniel Ricciardo, model claims he cheated on his wife with her multiple times before"

That was the last nail in the coffin.

In a matter of minutes, Y/N packed a suitcase with some of her clothes and her essentials and was ready to leave that house towards her real home in Canada.

But not before she took off her engagement ring and her wedding band and left them both behind on the entryway table.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the bombs were closer

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Later that day, Daniel mustered up the courage to return to his wife, motivated by his friend, Max, with whom he had stayed overnight.

Such was his surprise and shock when he immediately sensed the silence that filled the house, her abandoned rings only confirming his greatest fear.

She was gone.

That silence lasted for weeks. Both were at extreme ends of the world, on different continents.

Daniel had to restrain himself from catching the next plane to Montreal, something he thought about doing dozens of times during those agonizing days of separation. But Scotty had been in contact with him, telling him that he and his fiancée Chloe were with the driver's partner and that he just needed to give her some time.

Until then, he could only dedicate himself to his career and racing as an escape from the real world.

The girl's absence from the paddock was not missed, especially by the media, who continued to sell stories on top of stories about the most scandalous topic of the moment in the motorsport world's gossip.

It was torture trying to avoid that subject day after day, knowing he had lost the love of his life to greedy people who were trying to make a career out of lies. It turned into something bigger unnecessarily, and he could only blame himself for being in that situation, even though he was also a victim of the whole thing.

That's how Daniel decided there was only one chance to work this out and try to win back his girl. And against the orders of the McLaren's PR team, he sat in his hotel room and released a statement about the false case on his social media, not knowing the consequences that could bring him.

They couldn't be worse than losing her.

For the first time in weeks, Y/N was able to breathe when she opened his Instagram story and read the words he wrote.

"Over the last few weeks, there have been a lot of rumours and lies spread around about my marriage and my alleged involvement with another woman.

I come here to clarify that I don't know that woman and that I have never cheated on my wife with her, or with any woman.

From the moment I met my partner, my life was completely dedicated to her. She is the most special woman in the world and I thank God every day that I was the lucky one chosen to be by her side.

I am the first to admit that the photographs published in the media look wrong and that I shouldn't have even let myself be put in that position. But not everything that appears to be true is true and I need to make clear again that all the claims made by the other person involved are pure fabrications.

My body and soul belong to my incredible, beautiful wife and I couldn't live another day without publicly asking for her forgiveness for the terrible position she was placed in through no fault of her own."

Reading that, she couldn't help but wonder if she shouldn't have trusted him more freely, if she hadn't punished him for things he never did.

At that moment she made the decision to return to Monaco. She wasn't ready to give up on their love just yet and to be defeated by this Great War.

Always remember

Uh-huh, the burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

After 10 agonizing hours of travelling from Montreal to Monaco, Y/N finally found herself in front of the familiar door of the apartment where she had lived over the past years.

I was so unfair, this is my home, come what may, she thought.

She let herself in silently and walked slowly to the open room at the end of the hall, coming face to face with the image of Daniel, sitting on the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

He looked so distraught and so tired. It was evident he hadn't even heard her come in. The girl approached him cautiously and ran her hand gently through the brown curls of his hair as she crouched in front of him.

As soon as he felt her touch, a touch he could recognize anywhere in the world blindfolded, he looked at his wife. His eyes told her everything he was thinking about: the fear of losing her, the despair of someone who didn't know what else to do, the maddening love he felt for her and only her.

"You're here." He said, more to himself than to her. "You're really here."

"I am, baby." She gave him a weak smile, trying to reassure him that she'd come to make amends, not to fight anymore.

"I swear to you that I don't even know her, she showed up at that nightclub in Miami with some of Lando's friends. Everything that woman said is a lie. I never cheated on you, I could never do such a thing." He reached for her hand. "I am completely and truly obsessed with you. No person makes me feel the way you make me feel, and I would never put what we have at risk for anything in the world."

"I know, Danny." She leaned her forehead against his chest as they embraced each other. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you from the start. I don't care what she's been saying to the magazines. I know the man that you really are and that you would never do anything to hurt me on purpose."

"But that's the problem, Y/N. I still hurt you, even if I didn't mean to." Her husband grabbed her face with both of his hands, making her look him in the eye. "I'm the one who has to apologize to you."

"She was trying to say something to me at the club and she walked over to me so I could hear her. When I realized, she suddenly leaned over me and put her arms around my neck and I only had the reflex to grab her around the waist because I honestly thought she had lost her balance or something." He explained what really happened that night. "What I didn't realize was that she had a whole plan to spread those images on the internet in search of her five minutes of fame."

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Your finger on my hairpin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I'd lost you

"We are going to be okay, baby." She said. He had looked at her with such a sense of honour and truth. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in her head that he was being sincere.

Simultaneously, seeking each other's touch, Daniel and Y/N got up on their feet and hugged each other, making sure their bodies were as close as possible.

And they spent the rest of the afternoon like that, in each other's arms, in comfortable silence, just cherishing each other's presence, at peace at last.

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

When dinner time came, the couple ordered their usual Chinese takeaway, as they did every Friday when they were both at home, and sat on the sofa on their balcony while they ate under the beaming light of the sunset.

The only difference to the other Fridays was their phones. Instead of being a part of their conversation as they showed each other videos or photos from their week, this time they chose to turn them off and leave them in their dresser drawer so they couldn't be distracted by the outside world.

These were the moments that made it all worthwhile. These moments of peace, comfort and love all outweighed the war.

"I really thought I'd lost you, you know." She said, as she put her head on his shoulder, sighing. "I've never been so afraid in my life."

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

He looked at her, appreciating every little detail on her face, from the small scar she had above her eyebrow to the delicate mole she had on her chin.

After experiencing the world without her, Daniel knew that life would never be as colourful as with his lover by his side.

"You could never lose me, baby." He placed a small kiss on her lips. "It's me and you against the world, forever and always."

Always remember

Uh-huh, we're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

Although they didn't need validation from others to make them feel good about their decision to stay together, after a few weeks, the truth eventually came out.

Y/N was getting out of the shower when she got a call from her best friend.

"Hey, Chloe!" The girl said excitedly.

"Y/N, you're not going to believe what just happened." Chloe was always up to date with everything that was going on, but Y/N couldn't help but fear what was coming, especially after the painful weeks she had thanks to digital rumours.

"Skylar was just exposed on Instagram by a 'friend'. She leaked some audios that show it was all a set-up to take advantage of Daniel." Y/N couldn't believe karma worked so fast. "She apparently joined Lando's friends to get into the club but she didn't even know them at all! Can you believe the audacity of this girl?"

Without warning, Y/N disconnected the call, wrapped a towel around her body and ran to Daniel who was in the living room playing PlayStation. 

She quickly told him everything that had happened and it was possible to see the driver breathe a sigh of relief when he realized that his reputation was clean again.

Time had stopped when his lips found hers, making her knees go weak. Everything about him consumed her. Her focus was only on him and how he invaded her every sense.

"I vowed I would always be yours." He reminded her, as he leaned his forehead against hers, both of them with their eyes closed in a gesture of calm and tranquillity. "I love you more than anything in this world. You know that, right? We survived the Great War, Y/N Ricciardo."

I will always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vow I will always be yours

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thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

[waratah-vroom]

head first (dr3)

💕 diving in head first hoping I can love you so recklessly 💕

He never expected to fall for you; his best mate's baby sister. But when your eyes lit up and you laughed at his dumb jokes it made it almost impossibly hard not to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

prologue - january 2018 (21st june) part 1 - march 2018 (22nd june) part 2 - march 2019 (2nd july) part 3 - march 2020 (22nd july) part 4 to epilogue

Series is fully planned (it’s gonna be a long one girlies) but things may change. warnings below the cut

Tropes: brother's best friend, friends to lovers, age gap (7 years), mild slowburnMDNI 18+ Contains suggestive themes and some smut. Brief mentions of the pandemic. Content warnings will be added on future chapters. please note: Reader is Scotty James younger sister but reader is not visually described in writing. Random girls from Pinterest used as the FC (ones that look suspiciously like Heidi Berger for some unknown reason...) Series tag is #head first dr3

[lxclerc]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

SUMMARY: in which daniel is terrified the whirlwind of his world would make you leave him. REQUEST: from anon: “Angry!daniel cause ever since y/n and him went public, paps won't leave her alone and she feels overwhelmed so he gets pissed and goes off on them”  WARNING: invasive paps, hints of anxiety PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k

NOTE: i actually genuinely hate this haha definitely not my best writing

MASTERLIST

I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. Is it enough if I never give you peace?

The first time you got sent hate after going public with Daniel, you laughed it off as you showed it to your boyfriend, finding the entire concept of someone going out of their way and taking time out of their day and putting in effort just to send such brainless comments about someone they’ve never talked to. 

“My first hate comment,” you joke, placing your head against his shoulder. “Does this mean I’ve made it?”

But Daniel doesn’t seem to find it as funny as his arms wrapped around you, a frown on his face as he gently took the phone from you, already making a mental note of the usernames. “I can speak up about this. Maybe lessen it a little.”

Your laugh cuts off when you realize he’s genuinely upset and so you take your phone back, putting it down as you place your chin against his chest, looking up at him to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to, Dan. It’s just a bunch of jealous idiots hiding behind their screens and it means nothing to me. I know what I signed up for when I started dating you.”

Daniel says nothing else, only pulling you closer to him as he meets your lips in a soft kiss, making you smile thinking that was it but still, Daniel couldn’t help the sudden sinking in his stomach. He hates the fact that you’ve accepted that loving him comes with dealing with hate and he can’t help but wonder how long you can take it till you decide it’s enough, making fear rise in his chest. 

—

The first time you appeared in the Paddock, the whirlwind of photographers and fans alike crowding around you and your boyfriend had you holding on to Daniel’s hand a little tighter, letting him pull you towards him in a subtle way to shield you from the cameras and the prying eyes, a crease appearing in his forehead.

Still, you only smile at him, trying to ignore the crawling in your skin as you give him a reassuring squeeze, not wanting to worry him before a race because of a silly little thing.

However, everyone can see that the public’s interest with you seems to be different from their interest from the other wives and girlfriends. Perhaps it’s because of your bubbly persona or the way Daniel seems so madly in love with you but they took special interest in everything you do, your follower count skyrocketing from a few hundreds consisting of friends to millions in a matter of days. 

“Y/N!” An interviewer called, saying your name as though you’re close friends rather than complete strangers as he all but shoves his mic to your face, making you stumble back a little till Daniel wrapped an arm around your waist to stabilize you. “How do you think Daniel will do this qualifying?” 

Daniel was about to speak, probably to make some excuse that would save you from the intruding interviewer but you only give him a nervous smile, not wanting to cause a scene or make yourself seem snobbish that would in turn reflect on your boyfriend.

And so you answer with as much grace as you can manage, trying to school your features into a smile that you hoped doesn’t look as uncomfortable as it feels. “To be honest with you, I’m still not quite sure how the sport works but one thing is for sure, however Dan performs, I’ll be cheering for him.”

And with that, Daniel is steering you away before anyone can ask anything else, not wanting to overwhelm you the first time that you come to a race to support him. 

“That was weird,” you mutter once you’re far enough away from the group of people, the McLaren motorhome becoming visible as the pit of fear in his returns.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, hand holding yours unknowingly becoming tighter. “They can be invasive. I should have told you.”

You’re quick to spot the immediate worry appearing in his voice along with the crease in his eyebrows and so you make sure to give him a smile, planting a kiss on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Dan. It isn’t your fault and I don’t mind answering a few questions.”

—

Still, the media’s fascination with you only seems to grow. You’re not entirely sure either for what reason but it only seems to get worse as the entire issue with McLaren reaches the media. You’ve been busy mostly getting Daniel’s mind out of it as the two of you went camping with a few friends, deciding on a no phones allowed week filled with just each other.

The moment you come back though, everything seems to fall over. You aren’t like the usual models like the other WAGs are. You actually do have a boring desk job and an irritating boss and live pretty much a normal life. 

Of course up until you came in for work and a hoard of people with cameras came at you.

“Y/N, did you know about Daniel leaving McLaren?”

“Has Daniel told you about his future?” 

“What do you have to say about McLaren sacking Ricciardo in exchange for Piastri?” 

You can feel your chest getting tighter as you fight through the hoard to get back to your car, wanting nothing more than to get away from the invasive questions. Once your doors are locked and you’re back in the safety of your car, you immediately dial Daniel’s number, hands slightly shaking as cameras continue to go off outside.

“Dan?” Your voice is shaking too, you realize as you take deep breaths.

“Honey?” He asks and you can still hear the sleep lacing his voice. “I thought you’re at work.”

“I was,” you say, suddenly thanking everything that your car is tinted and no one can look inside from the outside. “There are paparazzis here and photographers. They were asking questions about you and I’m just–” You cut yourself off, unable to continue as your voice shakes again. “There’s a few of them surrounding my car.”

“What? Fuck.” Daniel suddenly sounds aware as you hear shuffling from his side as he gets out from the comfort of your shared bed. “I’ll come pick you up. Where are you?”

“No, no,” you say immediately. “I’ll drive home. I just wanted to let you know. They were asking me about McLaren and stuff and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“Who cares about that?” He sounds angry but you know it isn’t you he’s angry with. “I’ll run them all over.”

“Just stay there,” you tell him, already starting your car. “I’m on my way home.”

You hear him sigh and you know he wants to fight back again, wanting to be the one to pick you up and make sure you’re safe but he also knows there’s no way you’ll agree and so he can only nod his head despite the fact that you can’t see him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for this, baby.” 

“It’s fine,” you’re quick to say even though you both know it isn’t. “It’s not your fault, Dan.”

“Still,” he insisted. “They’re bothering you because of me.”

You sigh, not knowing what else to say and you sound so tired that it breaks Daniel’s heart. Are you tired of it? Tired of dealing with everything that comes with him? Are you tired of him?

“We’ll talk when I get home,” you say instead.

— 

“Daniel Ricciardo caught punching photographer.”

You sigh as Michael read the words, hand on Daniel’s wrist as you cleaned his wound gently. After a good night in celebration of his p5 finish in Singapore, the last thing you’d expected was this. A dinner date that was going inexplicably well as you and Daniel giggled over glasses of wine, hands entwined on the table. It was almost perfect if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of a couple of men with cameras blocking your paths as you move to go back to your hotel.

Daniel had you behind him, doing his best to shield you away from the prying questions but it was getting harder and harder as the few men became a horde after fans just passing by recognized him. He was trying his best to keep you behind him, arms wrapped around you in an attempt to put a barrier between you and the people you didn’t know.

His plan was to get you safely in the car then maybe he’d come back out to sign some stuff and get pictures, not wanting to completely ignore his supporters. However, that all flew out the window the moment one of the photographers wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back and making you yelp as you almost fell if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s arm around you.

“Hey, man, let her go.” The restrained anger is clear in Daniel’s as he glared at the man still holding on to your arm.

But the man seemed to have heard nothing as he turned to you. “Y/N, I just have a few questions–”

But the photographer was unable to finish his sentence with Daniel’s fist colliding with his face. He’s never been one to result to violence but all he can seem to see is red as the man kept pulling at your wrist and before he knew it, he was pulling his arm back for a punch. 

“I told you to let go of my girlfriend, you fucker,” he spat out at the photographer now on the floor. 

Daniel seems ready to throw another punch but you’re quick to pull him away by his arm, the two of you barely escaping the clicks of cameras and videos that you’re sure is already trending on twitter.

And so here you were, in his hotel room as you cleaned his bloody knuckles, Michael standing over the two of them as he read the headlines. 

“McLaren marketing will handle it,” Daniel says and you know he’s still angry. “At least they’re useful for something.”

You couldn’t help but sigh again as you offer Michael a smile. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mike.”

The trainer thankfully took the hint, nodding as he leaves the two of you by yourselves. For a moment it’s quiet as you entwine your hand with Daniel’s, placing it on your lap. You rest your head against his shoulder as you allow the silence to comfort the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “We were having such a great night.”

You smile softly at him, moving your head so your chin is on his shoulder. “It was still a good night, Dan.”

“I don’t know how you can keep doing it, stay with me and have your privacy be regularly violated.”

Is it okay if I never give you peace?

“Because I love you.” There’s no hesitance in your voice as you say it. “Being with you and watching you do what you love makes it all worth it.”

“For how long?” There’s genuine fear in Daniel’s voice as he asked it, finally voicing out thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for months.

But you only smile that reassured smile of yours at him, seemingly so sure of your answer. “For as long as you want me.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq

[adventuringblind]

The Edge of the Knife

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Sometimes, pain is the only sense of control she has. So, she gives that to Daniel too.

Warnings: SH is mentioned but not described, fingering, bandage, knife play, branding, dom/sub dynamics, gentle Daniel, PinV, everything is consensual and very safe

Notes: Listen, y'all, this is probably the best thing I've ever written. I fell in love with this so fast. Also, I promise I'm working on requests! I just also have to find time to write things for me as well 😁

Masterlist

She wouldn't say Daniel is possessive. He doesn't care if she talks to other guys. Hardly gets jealous. Only intervenes if he can see she's uncomfortable.

He does, however, like to show her off. Show people she's his in the more unconventional ways. Hickeys and bite marks are the way he normally claims her. It wards off the unwanted attention and he gets to be smug about showing people she's his.

She loves it. Bathes in his adoration and want of people knowing she's his. He's always telling people how amazing she is to the point where Max even gets fed up with him because he's so smitten.

She is really his everything. Would give her the moon and stars ig she asked. He wants to show everyone she's his in every way.

The problem is, hickeys and bite marks aren't permanent and a tattoo is nice (he has many) but it's not as personal. It doesn't feel the same.

Now, on her end, she feels the same way. But she'd never say this to him. The fear of rejection outweighs the desire for him to make her his in a permanent way.

Her past isn't an easy one. It's not something she talks about often. It's heavy and she doesn't like thinking to much on it if she can help it.

The edge of the knife has been her attempt at regaining control. A pain she chooses in a life that hasn't ever given her a choice. It's not a good habit and she's aware of it. Daniel has done a good job of keeping her mind occupied enough. Even helping her find other healthy habits.

Yet her mind still wanders back to that place. That desire to choose where and when she feels pain. That desire to retain control over at least that one thing.

It's on a particularly hard day when she finally goes to Daniel. She'd been stressed beyond what she could handle. The weight of the world sitting uninvited on her chest.

He'd noticed this; Daniel is an observant person.

Her mind had wandered to distant and dark places. The depths she shouldn't wander to. She walks gently over to Daniel where he sits absentmindedly flipping the switchblade in his hands. Most likely double checking he still had it and it hasn't fallen into her bored hands.

When Daniel takes notice of her just standing in wait, he puts the knife away safely in his pocket and opens his arms to her.

The tears flow freely then, soaking into his shirt like it's a towel. His fingers run along her spine, shoulder, arm, and her legs. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Life's just hard right now." She admits through choked sobs.

Daniel hums into her neck. "Do you want something specific to help?"

She hesitates. This could be to her detriment. But she wants the knife on her skin so badly she's willing to beg for it. So, she takes a deep breath and prepares herself for whatever happens.

"I want you to mark me. Permanently." She cringes away from him. Though it's pointless, Daniel simply drags her gaze back to him with a hand layed gently on her cheek.

"I want you to be very specific. Do you want me to brand you with the knife?" He sounds serious, but there is a look of excitement in his eyes that betray his calm demeanor.

She shakes her head yes, assuming that will suffice.

"Words baby." She assumed wrong.

"I want you to carve me with your knife. I want you to mark me permanently. Want you to make me yours, Danny."

They eye contact he holds with her is gentle and considerate. She can see him mulling through his thoughts. His hand moves to her left hip, his fingers tracing things against it.

"How you you feel about the number three? Make you the only lucky charm I'd ever need."

She almost falls out of his lap. "Yes please." It's something like a whine mixed with a beg. It's desperate but she could care less.

"Now, I know this might be scary, so do you want me to have complete control over you? Or shall we skip that for tonight?"

"No please, I need you to take the control away. If you do it then I can't anymore. It'll be like ruining something intimate after."

"Then give me a few minutes. I want you waiting on the bed when I come back."

It doesn't take long to strip of her clothes as asked. Her mind wanders to what he could need that not in there bedroom already. She runs through a mental list in her head, but her thoughts are cut short by Daniel sneaking back into the room softly.

"Fuck love, you're sitting so pretty for me. My beautiful girl."

He's beaming at her. She can feel the blush on her face rise to her ears. Mostly because of the compliments, but also because of what he returned to her with. Daniel places some darker colored towels, water, and first aid supplies on the nightstand. It makes her swoon. Seeing him care so much and so willing to do this for her.

"I'm gonna tie you up now, okay baby?"

"Okay."

"Color?"

"Green."

Always attentive. Always checking in with her.

He takes his time securing her wrists to the headboard. There is no escape now. Daniel reassures her many times that she can back out. There is no shame in that. Then he kisses every inch of her body. Praises her for being so brave. "My beautiful girl, being so brave for me, letting me show the world your mine."

She's no longer in the darkest portions of her mind. She's given up to the voice of Daniel. Submitted her mind and body to him, letting him take car of her how he deems fit.

Her legs are not secured. She assumes that it's something to do either future plans. For now, he spreads her legs and places wet kisses and small bites around the space she needs him most.

She cries in relief when his tongue flicks her clit woth kitten licks. Her moans grow as he laps at her like a man who's starving. She repeats his name like she's praying to give her the release she desperately craves.

Its messy, but it's amazing. Daniel's hands place pressure on both her knees to keep them down. The tremors shaking through her body make her legs want to cage him there.

The rapidly building release stops suddenly. She bucks her hips I'm utter disappointment. She wants more of him. She needs more of him.

"You're doing so good for me baby. You'll get to cum, Just not yet." He winks. It makes her fall into that fuzzy, floaty headspace even more.

Daniel maneuvers their bodies into an odd position. Her left side is facing the ceiling but he has her looking at him. Her left leg is bent so he can still have access to her aching a needy heat.

His fingers are slow to fill her. Two, but with his rings on it feels like more to her.

"Are you sure you want this love? You're sure you want to show off that you're my girl?"

"Please Danny. I want this. I need this. Let the world know I'm only yours." She moans out. It's mildly slurred but she knows he understands. There is a glint in his eyes that it excited. His pupils are wide with arousal. His lips twitch up in that award winning smile she loves so much. It doesn't help she can feel how hard he is through his shorts.

Daniel loses his shirt, but his shorts stay on for the moment. Then he curls his fingers back into her, capturing her lips as he does. It's a sloppy and wet kiss that he spends dominating her lips. It's filled with love and passion, which is normal for them, but this one feels different. There is something primal about it.

His fingers do a number on her. He knows her body so well that his fingers work on autopilot. Daniel pulls away from the kiss and pulls out the switchblade in his pocket. He holds eye contact while gently tracing the outline of the three he plans on carving into her skin.

The cold of the metal against her skin pulls another breathy moan out of her. "You like how the feels baby? You like knowing I'm gonna make you mine?" If she could moan any louder it would alert the whole of Monaco.

"Danny I'm-"

"Shhhh, it's okay baby, let me take care of you."

It's startling, being three seconds away from the plunging her body and soul into endless pleasure and having the knife press deep into her flesh.

Three seconds becomes zero and the cliff falls out from beneath her. She scream his name as his fingers work her endlessly into overstimulation and the knife continues its path.

She can't hear. She can't see. Her mind is overrun with emotion. Her muscles contract as her nerves catch fire.

She can vaguely hear the man she loves talking her through it. The contrast between the filthy but loving words he uses only sends her further into submission.

Finally, his fingers slow and the knife is no longer touching her. She can hear in click closed an set on the nightstand.

She's just crying at this point in a writhing mess of pain and pleasure.

Then Daniel does something she's not expecting. His tongue hits the area of her hip that's now leaking crimson. It's animalistic the way he licks the wound clean. It's aggressive the way his fingers leave her just for his hand to find the wound and make her cry out ad he applies pressure. It's primal how his red coated lips find hers. His free hand wipes away her tears as he sings her praises. Her mind can only find him in the fog as he claims her as his over, and over again.

She watches with intrigue as the rest of his clothes fall to the ground. As his hands are wiped off on one of the towels that he then places under her. The goal to catch the excess blood running down her side.

Is a mix of gentle and possessive as he fucks her into the sheets. Her body and the mattress becoming one.

It's loving and beautiful. It sparks every positive emotion in her. The sting in her hip numbed from the feeling of Daniel flush against her skin. His hips rocking rhythmically and hitting every place she needs him.

She's lost by the time he finishes. His voice the only thing making sense in her head. She almost cries when she can no longer feel his skin of hers. The feeling of him gone more painful then the ache on her side.

"I'm here baby. We have to clean you up now, okay? Gotta keep my mark from getting infected."

He's gentle with her body as he cleans it. Though, she still hisses in pain as he works through disinfecting everything and plastering medical tape over it.

"You're so beautiful baby. Can't believe you're all mine. My everything. The love of my life. And now the only lucky charm I'll ever need."

The next morning is filled with sweet kisses and gentle looks. Daniel has to stop her from just ripping the bandage off and staring at the mark for hours. He simply keeps her hands busy in other ways.

When Daniel deems it safe to pull the bandage off, he's the one to do it. Nothing but lobe and adoration fills both of them as they see the, currently stabbed, mark on her hip. He places small kisses down the length of it.

In reality, the mark is only visible to them. But Max had invited them to swim and Daniel wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste.

Did he get her a bikini that revealed more then neccecary? Yes. Is she wearing it and basking in his attention? Also yes. Something about the way he hypes her up just drives her confidence levels up.

Is everyone a little concerned when they see a very obvious scar of the number three on her hip? Again, yes. That concern quickly dies down when they see how happy she is when Daniel traces his fingers over it.

Max comes and asks teases them about it eventually. "I didn't know you were into that kind of thing!" He laughs.

Daniel looks between him and a certain Monegasque. "Mhmm, like you would do the same with your whole name to a certain someone." Her and Daniel laugh as Max turns a bright shade of red.

[lilvalleys]

REMEMBER EVERYTHING | DR3

in which teenage sweethearts are reunited in texas but at what cost ?

warnings - angst , yearning , crying , mentions of heidi , unhappy/open ending ?this is NOT edited or proof read… sorry!

a/n - OOPS IM BACK :)))

Rotgut whiskey's gonna ease my mind

Beach towel rests on the dryin' line

Do I remind you of your daddy in his '88 Ford?

Labrador hangin' out the passenger door

It’s like you could still see it all. You were still kids. Just kids. You could still see those stars and feel him behind you. Could still see him hanging out of that car like it was made for him. It was made for him. He looked unreal , like an old reel of film recently developed. Or like that dog that followed you around that summer. Maybe being a teenager was supposed to be hard. Maybe you were supposed to feel like you’d had your one great love this was it , or maybe that was just the teenager in you. Daniel left that summer. The North American circuits could only get him so far , and he wanted to be great. You wanted him to be great. He was going to go to Europe , it was decided. You still had that summer though , and it was the best one of your life.

The sand from your hair is blowin' in my eyes

Blame it on the beach, grown men don't cry

Do you remember that beat down basement couch?

I'd sing you my love songs and you'd tell me about

How your mama ran off and pawned her ring

I remember, I remember everything

Seventeen. Daniel thought he was a grown man. You thought he was too , but it’s just how you perceived him. Always protecting you , always with you, grown, mature. He felt guilty and he knew that he shouldn’t have but still he felt bad. Both of you were aware it was your last night together for a while , he snuck you out of your house that night and you wandered down to the beach. You remember that it was the beach with rocks instead of sand. Danny was such a gentleman that he laid down on the towel with all the rocks in his back so you could lay on his chest. He couldn’t let you , knowing what coming. It was chilly and he wrapped his arms around you. “This is it you know…” You knew but you didn’t want to. 17 year olds on different continents with different lives was never going to work. It was nice to dream though, and it was so easy and effortless. You whispered back through that void “I know…” He sniffled. Wetness dropped down his face to your shoulder. “Danny? Are you crying?” He had a bad habit of hiding it , like he was scared of his emotions. You remember that he blamed it on the beach , said something about the sand from your hair blowing in his eyes , but you knew really it was because he thought grown men didn’t cry. After you laid on the beach for a while he snuck you back to the house, your parents left the door unlocked. They knew you needed this. He held you on the couch in your basement and sang you love songs until you fell asleep. When you woke up he was gone , and that was the last you heard of him for so long.

A cold shoulder at closing time

You were begging me to stay 'til the sun rose

Strange words come on out

Of a grown man's mouth when his mind's broke

Pictures and passin' time

You only smile like that when you're drinking

I wish I didn't, but I do

Remember every moment on the nights with you

You knew he made it. It was hard not to follow him, he was an up and coming formula 1 star and you grew up in the sport. You did your best to avoid races , to avoid him. He had a girlfriend, some model or actress who suited him perfectly. Still it shocked you when you saw him on screen. He looked just like himself. Which is admittedly a weird thing to say , but he truly looked like Daniel . He got his braces off , and his hair was a little less wild but he was still your same old Danny. Which is why when you saw him in that bar , you recognized him immediately. He had that shit eating grin on his face . Danny only smiled like that when he was drinking. Or looking at you. He recognized you too. Recognized you well enough that somehow some way after teary hellos you ended up tangled up in his hotel sheets while his girlfriend called him wondering why their nightly goodnight had been postponed. “I love you” god, you couldn’t say it back. How could you say it back when you knew this was temporary. Daniel was only going to be in Texas for a few days , he had to go back to Europe for one of his girlfriends premiers. It doesn’t shock you how easy that ‘love you’ comes out of his mouth. Strange words come out of a grown man’s mouth when his mind’s broke. After the few days were up , memories had been relived , it was time for him to go. You kissed your goodbyes and waited for the next time you would see him. Daniel told you it was too dangerous for you to text or call but that he should be back in a few months. You went to that bar every night.

You're drinkin' everything to ease your mind

But when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

You're like concrete feet in the summer heat

It burns like hell when two souls meet

No, you'll never be the man that you always swore

But I'll remember you singin' in that '88 Ford

Things like this slowly eat at you. One month turned to two , turned to three , turned to four. You started to believe that it would be another 4 years until you saw him again. Oddly you were willing to wait. When you did see him again , it would be worth it. He was still that innocent loving man you knew. That’s how you saw him at least. Daniel did not feel the same. He felt horrible every time he went to book a flight , or call your parents house , he couldn’t do it. You two used to talk shit about guys like this… and now he was just like them. And you were just like the girls they would string along. He is not the man everyone thinks he is and it is absolutely killing him. But one thing about guys like this , no matter how bad they feel they will always come back for more.

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 5) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, angst, mature themes

Word Count: 4,371

A/N: In a shocking turn of events, this is in fact not the last part. I really wanted to put something out there this week but I’m still not quite finished with the last bit of the story. That being said, I think I found a good break point. I’m not even going to jinx myself by saying the next part is going to be the last, so TBD. Thank you again for your support. Please don’t be a ghost reader, and please feel free to comment or DM with any positive or constructive feedback. Enjoy!  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Perhaps that was your fatal flaw all along. The entire time you spent trying and failing to suppress and divert your feelings for the driver, you would have been better served leaning into them and letting them go in a controlled space.  

In clearing the air with Daniel, you felt a weight lifted. You were still shocked by the revelation that the feelings were mutual at least in part, but there was comfort and stability in the understanding that had been reached. The lightness allowed you to finally stand in your confidence and share in the excitement of the next phase of negotiations. The season would be over in less than a month, with only two races left including Brazil. You were grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel.

You discreetly made your way to Red Bull hospitality on Thursday morning, bright and early in Sao Paolo before the chaos of media day began. There was only an admin there who greeted you showed you around. You made yourself comfortable in the empty kitchen area, where it was immediately obvious the difference in resources. It felt opulent yet comforting, especially compared to the aggressive orange and sparse theme of McLaren. Then again, spending any excessive time around McLaren hospitality or their garage nowadays just made you depressed and resentful.

It was early, even for you, and you desperately needed to caffeinate before the meeting. You saw the coffee machine, but no mugs in sight. You began opening drawers and cupboards in search of a vessel, cursing Christian Horner in your head. You finally found them, but of course they were on one of the upper shelves. You strained your body to extend as far as it would go, everything you needed just out of reach. While adjusting your balance on your tiptoes, you felt a warm body press against you and a shadow of an arm reaching over you. You closed your eyes and sharply inhaled, relishing the pressure on your back and the smell of familiar cologne. You opened your eyes again when he peeled away from you.

“I think you were looking for this?” Daniel handed you a mug. You took it, feeling your fingers brush again. The epiphany you had earlier was dispelled in an instant. Engaging in self pleasure may have acted as a momentary release, but it did not subdue the feelings that had taken firm root over the last few months. Masturbation was simply a light pruning for the sturdy tree that now grew in your garden that refused to be moved by earthquakes or hurricanes.   

“I could’ve gotten it,” you grumbled avoiding eye contact. You had told yourself you had no reason to feel awkward about the other night, but you felt yourself shrinking in his presence nonetheless. His voice went up several decibels and he batted his eyes to mock you.

“Good morning, Daniel! Thanks so much for helping me! Good morning to you too, no problem, so happy I could help.” You rolled your eyes.  

“Good morning. I promise I’ll be nicer in ten minutes once I’ve had my coffee.” You haphazardly raised your empty mug. He raised his hands and backed away, a small smirk on his face, but did not leave. He found a seat elsewhere in the kitchen, and you felt his eyes on your back as you went about your business.

You locked eyes when you turned around with a full cup. He innocently smiled and waved, while you forced an aggressive smile back. Leaning against the counter, you took a few sips of coffee without breaking eye contact. After a few minutes you joined him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Are you done being a cunt?”

“Are you done being a douche canoe?” He snorted.

“I guess not.”

“Likewise.” You paused. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be here so early before the meeting.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Me neither. I’m excited, I think. And a little nervous.” He looked like a child on his first day of school, fidgety and unable to contain the energy requiring release. He couldn’t help the growing smile on his face. It was contagious, and you quickly found yourself smiling too.

“You should be – excited! Not nervous,” you quickly clarified. He looked down while he continued to bounce his knee.

“What if I make the wrong choice again?” he timidly whispered, though it could have been a question directed at you or the universe. It was no secret that many thought him leaving Red Bull in 2018 was the worst professional decision Daniel Ricciardo ever made, his short stint with Renault followed by his experience with McLaren as evidence. However, hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps he had too much hubris at the time, but he very validly thought he was being forced into a second driver position. How could he have known the series of unfortunate events that would follow? You did not fight the urge to hold his hand this time, gently placing yours on top of his in the middle of the table as you leaned in.

“There is no wrong choice this time,” you whispered back.

You truly believed that Daniel was in a win-win situation. Mercedes was a well-oiled, professional machine. The relationship there would be a symbiotic one. You thought they could help ground and focus Daniel, while Daniel could improve their public image and perhaps allow them to shed their somewhat stuffy, mechanical persona. Moreover, it would represent a clean slate with a new team. Conversely, you couldn’t deny how poetic a return to Red Bull would be. The place where Daniel spent so many years at the beginning of his career, it would be a momentous homecoming.

The Red Bull kitchen was quiet and empty. He looked at your hand. You were about to pull away but he lightly took hold of it before you could.

“Thanks,” he said in a soft voice to match the soft smile that graced his features.

“Of course. You know I’m always here for you.”

“I know.” He lazily rubbed your fingers with his thumb.

“Do you want to go over anything before the meeting?” You feebly attempted to redirect the conversation to be more professional, but you both knew there was no real effort as neither of you moved.

“Not really. I feel good this time.”

You remained in comfortable silence for a beat, lost in the exchange of energy that passed through one another. Your phone buzzed, pulling you away from the moment temporarily. Your face fell slightly. He looked at you expectantly.

“Well, you’re stuck with me today. The partner’s tied up with something.” You raised your gaze to meet his, searching for some kind of approval. He feigned distress.

“Oh no, what will I do? You’ve only handled 70% of this whole process on your own.” You squinted, skeptical of his confirmation.

“You trust a meager, low level associate to handle the entire trajectory of your future?”

“At this point, I trust you with my life.”

It was hard to tell whether he was being overdramatic for comedic effect or genuine. Foot steps in the distance pulled you from your trance, your hands quickly recoiling. With his back to the entry, he didn’t miss the chance to give you a wink and a smile that made you want to melt into the floor. Instead, you rolled your eyes in response but your bashful smile gave you away. You stood up when you saw your expected hosts enter.

“My two favorite people!”

“Good morning, Christian. I appreciate it, but you know flattery doesn’t work with me,” you quipped as you shook hands. When he wasn’t pissing off the rest of the grid, Christian really was quite the charmer when he wanted to be.

“On the contrary, it will get you everywhere.” The smile didn’t leave his face when he turned to Daniel, arms wide open. Their energy was well matched as they embraced in a warm hug. As happy as the driver was last week with his points finish, he seemed immensely more comfortable now.

When they separated, Christian looked at you again.

“What is this? Coffee and no Red Bull?” he teased.

“Sorry, had a bad experience in law school with energy drinks I’m afraid. Nothing personal. Though I was beginning to wonder whether the coffee machine was for decoration only.”

“They hide the mugs on purpose,” Daniel chimed in. Given the dimply smile and his tone, you would think he was joking but knew he was absolutely telling the truth.   

“He leaves for four years, comes back, and thinks he owns the place and can share company secrets.”

You had seen it several times now, but it amazed you how easy their relationship seemed. Although technically Mercedes was not out of the question, you already knew where Daniel’s heart was. It was now just a matter of ironing out the details.

Christian and the Red Bull lawyer joined you at the table in the kitchen. It was a nice change of setting, the informality of it made the weight of the discussion feel a bit lighter. The process with them was easy, especially compared to McLaren and even Mercedes. While it was slightly less formal, at all times you felt respected. Not once did anyone assume you were an admin or paralegal, which admittedly is a low bar. But even beyond that, especially with the partner’s absence, you were never treated as a subordinate and your professional capabilities were never called into question. Of course this process was not about you, but in your opinion you believed choice of outside counsel was an extension of the type of work environment your client could expect. Red Bull had been a pleasant surprise in this respect.

It was all smiles when you exchanged handshakes as you parted ways. You and Daniel were shown out the back door to avoid a few media that had just started to arrive at the paddock. You walked behind the teams’ hospitality stations so that you could join the main entry of the paddock without raising suspicion.

“So. How do you think it went?” you casually asked. You didn’t want your own opinion to taint whatever his genuine response may be.

“Honestly… I think it went really well.” The dimply smile you had become so fond of returned to his face.

“Honestly… me too.” You allowed yourself to show your enthusiasm, feeling yourself break into a wide grin. Away and hidden from the main walk of the paddock, he grabbed your hands and you both quietly squealed and jumped up and down. After a few seconds when you stopped and regained composure, he asked:

“So, what’s next?”

“Well, that depends on you. If you think you’re ready to pull the trigger with Red Bull, you let me know ASAP and assuming we’ve already nixed any dealbreakers that would’ve been in their offer, we go through everything again with a fine-tooth comb, see if they’re able to come up on anything and sign.”

“And Mercedes?”

“We keep them in play until everything is in writing and executed. No need to have a PR disaster like Alpine.” You were, of course, referring to the unfortunate circumstances of Alpine prematurely announcing Oscar Piastri as their second driver for 2023. He chuckled as you continued walking towards McLaren. You could hear the hustle and bustle from the press getting louder as more people began to arrive. He paused just before you were about to turn the corner and enter the circus.

“I want to be at Red Bull,” he said definitively. You smiled.

“Ok then. I’ll get to work.” He gave you an encouraging fist bump before taking a deep breath, knowing this would be the last bit of downtime you both had for the rest of the weekend, reluctant to leave the nest of the quiet sanctuary you shared just behind the organized chaos.

“Shall we?”

You sighed. “No time better than the present.”

-

Brazil was an eventful whirlwind. It was no surprise to you that Daniel continued to skillfully navigate an onslaught of questions about his future in the sport on press day and the rest of the weekend. On Saturday, the two of you gossiped excitedly when Kevin Magnussen got pole in qualifying despite Daniel’s own mediocre performance. Obviously the sport was cut throat, but everyone couldn’t help but root for the Haas underdog. There was a buzz during the sprint, Daniel just out of reach of the points in p11. Unfortunately, the race itself ended up resulting in a DNF for both McLaren boys. With each day of events, Daniel’s mood seemed to sour despite the positive steps being taken behind the scenes. Of course DNF-ing on what could be his second to last race ever is not what anyone wanted. However, while you sympathized for Daniel, that’s not what you were focused on. There was the celebration of George’s first win with Lewis also on the podium, but then there was the internal team drama you watched unfold at Red Bull.  

You anxiously waited out the post-race interview process so that you could update your client. If there was any question on what the path forward was before, it became crystal clear today.

As he walked through the paddock eager to get to his drivers room for some solitude, he saw you practically bouncing on your toes. He was a little annoyed to see you in such high spirits after an abysmal race, but it also made him relax a bit.

“I should DNF more often if it makes you this happy,” he dryly joked as he approached you. You should have been used to this song and dance by now. He makes a questionably flirtatious comment, you blush and get flustered, and after a bit of fumbling you redirect course and get back to business. You knew he wouldn’t change his behavior, no matter how many times you halfheartedly scolded or ignored him. It shouldn’t make you flustered any more, but there was excitement in not knowing whether there was any truth behind it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. But that was before your conversation in Mexico, where you divulged so much about your own inner turmoil. You had made yourself vulnerable. After that, you had assumed he would stop out of respect. What was a thrill before now felt like a cruel joke at your expense.

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I have some important news to share with you, can we go somewhere private to discuss?”

“You’re not going to buy me dinner first?” He had said this before, but it wasn’t landing like it used to.

“You’re going to have to buy yourself a new lawyer if you keep this act up.” For someone who didn’t finish the race, he was being awfully cocky today. And by goodness, did it make you feel things.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one who said you wanted to be alone with me -”

“Daniel.” He usually stopped after the first rebuttal.

“Not that I’m mad at it-“

Your previous excitement began to sour in your mouth as your heartbeat quickened. You grabbed his wrist and dragged him through McLaren hospitality to his drivers room. You didn’t care who saw or what it looked like. You practically pushed him in and shut the door behind you. His eyes widened as you got in his face.

“Oh shit, is this actually happening?” he began to pull at his shirt.

“What?! No. Shut up. What is wrong with you today?”

“Oh come on, I was just joking! You know I always do this.”

“No.” You pushed your pointer finger into his chest. “Today, you’re being an ass. I don’t know if this is you acting out after a shitty race or what, but pull it together. You are not a 21 year old frat boy, you’re a 33 year old world class athlete with a fully developed frontal lobe - who is now wasting my time, and rest assured, I am billing you for it. And if you stopped your inappropriate jokes for two fucking seconds and let me do my job, I would have told you that there’s a solid chance you can be on the grid in 2024 in a fucking Red Bull. Thought you might want to know.”

You had backed him into a wall and were inches away from his face, huffing and puffing. You were so mad, that one man could make you so infuriated and horny at the same time. His eyes were still the size of dinner plates, but his expression had fallen slightly. It was his turn to blush. He had been surrounded by yes-men for so long, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been chastised like this.

“I’m sorry-” You continued, your tone somewhat more even.

“Max wouldn’t let Checo through today despite what it would mean for the driver’s and constructor’s championships because he thinks Checo purposefully sabotaged him during qualifying in Monaco. The girls are fighting which is more bad PR for Red Bull, Checo’s contract is up next year, and if this dynamic continues between the two drivers then there’s a good chance they won’t renew it.”

“That’s great news-” You cut him off again.  

“Am I a joke to you? Because I know you wouldn’t be making these comments if I was a man. I know you thought I was some secretary when we first met, but I really thought I had earned your respect throughout this process.” He looked at you now wearing the pink pantsuit you’d worn on that fateful first day.

“Can I just-”

“I’ve had to deal with so many mediocre men with undeserved self-inflated egos my entire life. I’ve dated them, I’ve been in class with them, I’ve worked with them, I’ve worked for them – especially the last five years at this godforsaken law firm. Lord knows I don’t need another one. I’ve had to work twice as hard and be better than them to prove myself as an equal. And even with all that, no matter what, as soon as I leave the room I’m the punchline of some joke I never asked or wanted to be a part of because I have boobs. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot initially but I really thought you were different. But no-”

One second you were ranting, the next you were cut off by lips crashing into yours. In your fury you missed his warm brown eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. In a flash he had grabbed the lapel of your suit jacket to bring you towards him, your hands landing firmly on his chest. Fireworks flashed behind your eyelids and for a moment you forgot what day it was, where you were, and who you were. You don’t know how long it lasted. You should have pulled away. You definitely shouldn’t have kissed back. But the taste of saline on him from the demands of the day and the scruff of his beard on your chin and cheeks made you want to stay. You smelled his cologne mixed with musk and, what was that, aftershave? Instead, he pulled away first.

You blinked a few times, jaw slack. You brought a hand to your lips, half to make sure they were still there but also for confirmation that you didn’t just hallucinate.

“Sorry, it was the only way I could think to get you to shut up so I could get a word in edgewise. If you’d let me talk, I would say I think you’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. You’re smart, witty, funny, and no, it doesn’t hurt that you’re as good looking as I am. You think I give a fuck about billing? I would spend my entire fortune down to nothing if it meant I got to spend more time with you. I’ve known for weeks I wanted to go to Red Bull and I didn’t tell you until three days ago because as excited as I am about figuring out what I’m doing next year, I’m equally dreading it because as soon as I sign that means you leave. When you’re not in the room I only sing your highest praises. So yes, of course I respect you. And I realize, kissing you just now may have proved your point, and I’m sorry about that. And you’re right that I’ve been a cunt today and a lot of this weekend, and I’m sorry about that too.”

There had been very few times in your life where you were left speechless, and this was one of them. It was literally your job to be good with words, and right now they failed you.  

“And I know you’re going to say ‘let’s forget that this ever happened’ and I’ll move on and get back to business, but I can promise you I won’t. I’ll never tell another soul for your sake, because I don’t want you to lose your job, but I refuse to forget this, our conversation in Mexico, or that Sunday in Austin. You’re unforgettable f/n l/n.”

You stood there in silence for a few moments. Your adrenaline was through the roof and your mind was blank. He was clearly looking for a response, yet you had none. You did your best to break the tension.

“Well if your goal was to get me to shut up, you succeeded.”

“Honestly, I’m as shocked as you are,” he said with a small laugh. There was another long pause. “I shouldn’t have said all of that, I’m sorry.” You gave him a knowing smile.

“No you’re not.” He smirked.

“Yeah, not really.” You had become particularly focused on a speck of dirt on the floor, but finally returned his gaze.

“You know nothing can happen,” you whispered. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact that was directed at yourself as much as him. You unsuccessfully tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. He refused to look away from you even when you continued to avoid eye contact.

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence descended again. There was nothing else to say. You realized through your tirade and this whole exchange you had been standing dangerously close to one another, and you hadn’t backed away after the kiss. You could feel his heartbeat on your chest, and you were pretty sure he could hear yours. You separated yourself and tried to pick up whatever pieces of dignity you had left. You straightened out your suit jacket and cleared your throat.

“I’m going to try to add some clauses in the contract for 2024 primary driver placement. They’ll almost certainly come back with red lines to make them conditional, perhaps based on Checo’s performance and/or your own performance in the sim, but Horner loves you so much that I think they’ll be receptive to the idea overall.” Your heart hurt at how crestfallen he looked.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I’ll send you a draft before it goes to Red Bull. You can expect deliverables by tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

“Assuming everything goes smoothly, I anticipate the agreement to be fully executed by Abu Dhabi. Does that sound like a reasonable timeline?”

He was incredulous at how quickly you could shut everything off. He had spilled his heart to you and in return he received merely an acknowledgement before you put an abrupt end to the conversation. You had done it so many times before to a lesser extent that he shouldn’t have been surprised by how quickly your walls went back up, but he somehow thought this time would be different.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “But… I want to wait until after the race. I don’t want to have to worry about sneaking away in the middle of practice or qualifying.” It was his way of saying he wanted you there for the duration of the race weekend, he had gotten used to your presence over the last three months. Despite whatever this altercation did to your relationship, professional or otherwise, he couldn’t imagine finishing the tumultuous season without you by his side. He hoped you would pick up the subtlety, but it went over your head.

“I don’t know Daniel, Red Bull probably has a million celebratory events immediately afterwards seeing as their driver won the championship and they won the constructor’s. I imagine McLaren also has a bunch of end of season events planned as well that you’ll have to attend.”

“Can we ask if they can spend an extra day in the country?”

“If you want to wait until after the season is over I totally get it, it might just be easier if we try to schedule something at Milton Keynes the following week.” For someone so smart you were also awfully dense. He tried to come up with a logical explanation that you would be willing to go along with.

“I just thought it would be smart to be able to announce this within a few days after the end of the season, where there’s still buzz and interest and before we get too far into winter break. Plus then it would give the team a few days to come up with a press release still within that timeframe.”

You couldn’t argue that such timing would be better publicity for both him and Red Bull.

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. No promises, but I’ll reach out to Red Bull to see what their schedule is like.”  

He was satisfied with the victory, no matter how small.

“Is there anything else?” The words felt hollow as they left your mouth. He looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, I guess not,” he said in defeat. You felt terrible. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but saying them out loud would only serve to stoke the wildfire you so desperately wanted to put out.

“I’ll see you next week in Abu Dhabi,” you said meekly. You left the room, ending the exchange in a stalemate with neither party satisfied.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233

[its-avalon-08]

y/n neglecting danny boy, shes being a bitch abt it because of work. angst, happy ending

THANKS!

a inconvenience in your world (dr3)

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - alot of angst, tears, neglect, happy ending

The faint scent of burnt toast hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual aroma of freshly brewed coffee that greeted Daniel most mornings. He shuffled into the kitchen, his back already protesting the sudden movement. The Baku crash still lingered, a dull ache settling in his lower back every time he spent too long sitting or inactive.

Y/N was hunched over her laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. She glanced up at him briefly, a tired smile flickering across her face.

"Morning," she mumbled, her voice strained. "Big day?"

Daniel forced a smile, the gesture feeling stiff. "Usual training. You sure you can't make it for breakfast again?"

Y/N sighed, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. "Look, babe, I know we rescheduled last night, but this project is a monster. Maybe next week?"

Disappointment gnawed at him, but he pushed it down. "Yeah, sure. Text me when you're done, okay? We can grab dinner."

Y/N nodded absently, her eyes already glued back to the screen. "Sounds good."

two weeks later

Daniel scrolled through his phone, a growing sense of unease settling in his gut. Y/N's last text, a hurried apology for missing their planned movie night, had been three days ago. Calls went straight to voicemail, texts remained unanswered. He knew she was busy, but the complete lack of communication gnawed at him.

He finally caught her on a Wednesday evening, her voice breathless and clipped.

"Hey, Y/N, finally—"

"Daniel, I'm in the middle of something super important. Can we talk later?"

"But—"

The line went dead. He stared at the phone, a hollow feeling blooming in his chest. He tried texting again, a simple "thinking of you," but it remained stubbornly on "delivered" just like the others.

friday night

Exhaustion weighed on Daniel as he returned from training. He longed for a home-cooked meal, some quiet time with Y/N. But the apartment was empty, the silence broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. He reheated a leftover curry, the taste bland on his tongue. The once vibrant apartment felt cold and sterile, mirroring the distance growing between him and Y/N.

He sank onto the couch, picking up his phone. Y/N's social media profiles were a whirlwind of work updates and inspirational quotes, a curated life devoid of any mention of him. A sharp pang of jealousy stabbed at him, quickly followed by a wave of sadness. Where had the goofy selfies and mushy captions gone? Where had his sunshine smile gone?

a few days later

The slam of the front door echoed through the apartment, a punctuation mark to a fight Y/N didn't see coming. It had started innocently enough, the clatter of a plate hitting the counter as Daniel placed it in the drying rack.

"Seriously, Daniel?" Y/N snapped, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. "Couldn't you just leave it in the sink? I'm swamped here."

Daniel froze, the plate suspended mid-air. A deep frown creased his forehead, a stark contrast to the grimace he'd been trying to hide for the past hour. His lower back had been throbbing ever since his training session that morning, but adrenaline and the hope of spending some quality time with Y/N had kept him going. Now, both the pain and his hope were fading fast.

"Y/N," he started, his voice strained, "it would have taken two seconds to put it away."

"Ugh, not this again," she sighed, finally tearing her gaze away from the screen. "Look, I appreciate you making dinner, but I'm on a deadline. Can we talk about this later?"

Daniel stared at her, his jaw clenched. "Later? That seems to be our new thing, doesn't it? Later for dinner, later for that movie you promised, later for even a simple conversation."

Y/N bristled. "Don't make this about you. I have a very demanding job right now."

"Demanding?" Daniel scoffed, his voice laced with hurt. "Who just spent the last two weeks glued to that laptop, cancelling every date night, blowing off my calls mid-conversation because of some 'urgent' email?"

Y/N opened her mouth to retort, then stopped. The accusation hung heavy in the air, a truth she couldn't deny. Shame burned in her gut, hot and unwelcome.

"Look," she started placatingly, "I know I've been distant, but this project is huge. Once it's over—"

"Once it's over?" Daniel cut her off, his voice tight with a mix of anger and pain. "What about me, Y/N? When was the last time you even asked how my back was after that crash in Baku?"

Y/N flinched. A vague memory of a news report about the crash flickered in her mind, but the details were hazy, lost in the sea of emails and reports flooding her inbox.

"I, uh…" she stammered, guilt twisting in her stomach. "You said you were fine."

A humorless laugh escaped Daniel's lips. "Right, because superheroes don't feel pain, do they?" He slammed the plate down on the counter, the clatter echoing in the tense silence. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

"I do everything for you, Y/N," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Cook your meals, clean the apartment, manage your schedule – all while training and racing across the globe. But apparently, that's not enough. Because apparently, I'm just a fucking inconvenience to fit in between your precious deadlines."

Tears streamed down Y/N's face, a dam finally breaking. The words hit her like a physical blow, the truth stinging worse than any deadline.

"Daniel, I—" she started, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Just save it," he said, his voice raw. "I need some air."

He stormed out of the apartment, leaving Y/N alone in the deafening silence. The echo of his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the love she'd been neglecting, the connection she'd taken for granted. The laptop screen glowed accusingly, its light failing to penetrate the suffocating darkness that had settled around her.

The deafening silence that followed Daniel's departure pressed in on Y/N, heavy and suffocating. The laptop screen remained a dull beacon, its light failing to pierce the shame that gnawed at her. She numbly pushed herself to her feet, drawn to the kitchen counter where the forgotten plate stood.

Her gaze drifted around the room, finally seeing for the first time in weeks. The dishes were gleaming, not a single one left in the sink. The fridge hummed contentedly, stocked with fresh groceries. Panic clawed at her throat. This wasn't takeout night. This was Daniel, anticipating her needs, taking care of them without a single complaint.

She stumbled through the apartment, every corner revealing another silent testament to his love. Folded laundry sat neatly on the couch, a stark contrast to the usual clutter. Her work papers, once scattered across the dining table, were now organized into neat stacks on her desk, a laptop charger coiled beside them - fully charged, a silent reassurance.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. How could she have been so blind? He'd become an invisible pillar, supporting her life while his own needs went unnoticed. Grabbing her phone, she dialed his number, her heart pounding in her chest. But there was no answer, only the cold, impersonal voice of voicemail.

Panic twisted into a knot in her stomach. She couldn't wait. She threw on a jacket, her phone clutched in her hand as she sprinted out the door. His favourite park, their usual coffee shop, all flashed through her mind, rejected one after another. Where would he go?

Suddenly, a memory surfaced. A conversation weeks ago, about a quiet spot by the river he'd discovered during training. With renewed hope, she hailed a cab, directing the driver to the location.

It was a small clearing, a patch of green tucked away from the city's bustle. As she approached, a choked sob escaped her lips. Daniel sat on a weathered bench, head buried in his hands, his broad shoulders slumped. Even from a distance, she could see the tremor that ran through him.

The river shimmered in the fading light, casting a golden sheen on the tears that streamed down Y/N's face. Daniel sat beside her, a tense silence stretching between them, broken only by the gentle gurgling of the water. Finally, Y/N broke the quiet, her voice thick with emotion.

"Daniel, I..." she started, her voice catching. "I don't even know where to begin."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. The vibrant blue of his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, was clouded with hurt.

"You could start with an apology," he said, his voice low and controlled.

Y/N flinched. "I am apologizing, Daniel. From the bottom of my heart. I was so caught up in work, in this damn deadline, that I completely lost sight of everything else. I neglected you, ignored your needs, and for that, I am truly sorry."

A bitter laugh escaped Daniel's lips. "Sorry doesn't quite cut it, Y/N. You weren't just a little busy. You were completely absent. Remember all those cancelled dinners? The calls I practically had to beg you to answer? The constant feeling that I was just an inconvenience in your schedule?"

Y/N's head hung low, the weight of his words crushing her. "I know," she whispered. "I have no excuse. I just… work became this monster, this all-consuming thing that stole everything from me, including my ability to see what was right in front of me."

"And what exactly was in front of you, Y/N?" he asked, his voice laced with a barely suppressed anger. "Because all I saw was a woman who didn't have a single moment to spare for the man who loves her."

Shame burned in Y/N's gut. "No, that's not true. You… you're the most important person in my life. You're my best friend, my confidante, the person I want to share everything with. But I let work come between us, creating a wall I didn't even realize I was building."

Daniel remained silent, his gaze unwavering. Y/N reached for his hand, but he pulled away, a flicker of pain crossing his face.

"You know," he began, his voice tight, "the worst part wasn't the missed dates or the cancelled plans. It was seeing you come home exhausted, glued to that laptop, barely acknowledging my presence. It made me feel invisible, like I didn't matter."

Y/N's heart ached. The image of him, sitting alone at the dinner table she never made it to, fueled the fire of shame within her.

"I see that now," she choked out. "And the truth is? You do matter, Daniel. More than anything. You're my rock, my anchor, the sunshine that makes my world brighter. I was just… so foolish to take it all for granted."

"Love shouldn't be taken for granted, Y/N," he said, his voice softening slightly. "It needs nurturing, attention. It needs to be a two-way street."

Y/N nodded, tears pooling in her eyes. "I understand that now. And I'm willing to put in the work, Daniel. To make things right. To show you just how much you mean to me."

He looked at her, a flicker of hope fighting its way through the pain in his eyes. "Actions speak louder than words, Y/N. Can you prove it?"

"Yes," she said, her voice firm with conviction. "I'll prove it every single day. I'll set boundaries with work, prioritize our time together, and be the partner you deserve. I won't let my career overshadow our love."

Daniel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It won't be easy, Y/N. Trust takes time to rebuild."

"I know," she agreed. "But I'm willing to put in the time, as long as you are."

Silence fell again, but this time, it was different. It wasn't a tense gap, but a space for contemplation, for a shared breath.

Finally, Daniel reached for her hand, his touch gentle but firm. "I… I want this to work, Y/N. But I need you to understand, if this happens again, if work takes over once more, then I can't keep going down this same path."

Y/N squeezed his hand tightly. "I understand. It won't happen again. I promise."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the river, a fragile hope blossomed between them. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with open communication, a commitment to change, and the unwavering flame of love.

The last rays of the sun painted the river a fiery orange, mirroring the burning intensity in Daniel's eyes. Y/N held her breath, waiting for his answer, the weight of her apology heavy in the air.

Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the burden of weeks, Daniel reached out. Not for her hand, but for her. He pulled her close, engulfing her in a hug that spoke volumes more than any words could.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, his hold a mixture of relief and lingering hurt. Y/N buried her face in his chest, the familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body a sudden comfort.

"Just… don't do it again, alright?" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Work will always be there, but you… you're irreplaceable."

Y/N nodded, tears soaking into his shirt. "Never again, Daniel. I promise."

He loosened his grip slightly, tilting her head back to look at him. His eyes, the color of a summer sky after a storm, were still troubled, but a flicker of forgiveness danced within them.

"You scared me, Y/N," he confessed, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. "The thought of losing you… it was unbearable."

A choked sob escaped her lips. "I love you, Daniel. More than words can say. Don't you ever doubt that."

He cupped her face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "I know you do," he whispered, his voice husky. "And that's why this matters so much. Because I love you too, Y/N. More than racing, more than anything in this world."

He leaned in then, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with forgiveness, with a renewed promise, and most importantly, with a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger.

As they pulled apart, foreheads resting together, a gentle breeze ruffled their hair. The setting sun cast an orange glow on their intertwined figures, a symbol of a new beginning, a love story rekindled with the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

[sinfully-yoursss]

what happened to being friends?

WARNING: violence against reader, she kinda gets the shit beaten out of her. sorry. 

a/n: sorry. this is a little longer than i thought it would be. i wrote this as a part of something else but thought this would be a good little blurb. heidi and max are siblings in this for some context.

Walking into Max’s, y/n had no idea what to expect when he said he wanted to talk. She wasn’t sure if something had happened between Heidi and Max and she wanted to be there for her friend, but she couldn’t lie that she felt nervous. 

Even though y/n and Max had been friends for years, they had never spent very much time together alone. Heidi was always here, or Daniel and his group. She looked around the living room, trying to spot any sign of Max. Not having any luck, she moved on to the kitchen. 

“Max?” She called out as she walked into the kitchen. Not hearing any kind of response, she turned down the hallway she knew led to the bathroom and his bedroom. She was starting to go from nervous to terrified, worried that something had happened to Max in the last twenty minutes. She faintly knocked on the door to his bedroom, pressing her ear to the door in hopes of hearing any sounds of life behind it. When she didn’t hear anything, she knocked again, a little louder while calling out, “Max? Are you here? Are you hurt?”

When she didn’t hear anything, she tested to see if the door was unlocked, silently panicking if she needed to call emergency services or Heidi. Should she call Lando? She wondered if he would even come and help her. He hadn’t been answering her texts or calls the last couple of days. The door opened with a creak as she stepped inside, relieved to see that Max was sitting on the bed, eyes already locked on hers. 

“Oh, my God! Max! You can’t scare me like that? Why weren’t you answering when I called your name? I was so worried. I thought I needed to call 911! What is wrong with you?”

The only thing that seemed to move were his eyes as she stalked closer to his bed. When she got about a foot away, she was startled as he jumped up, hands out and grabbed her by her shoulders, pushing her back. She screamed out of fear. She had no idea what was going on and why he wasn’t responding to her at all. 

He had pushed her back against the wall, closing the bedroom door in the process. She was terrified and she was right to be so. With her back against the wall, his hands had started to move towards her neck. Terror flashed across her eyes while Max’s remained blank. She had no idea what was happening and wished she could now get to her phone that had dropped on the floor to call someone. Anyone. Squeezing fingers blocked any air from entering her lungs as she started to push against his chest, hit his face. Anything to elicit some response from the man who was supposed to be her friend. Someone she was supposed to trust. 

Nothing seemed to be happening, so she started to kick her legs out. Finally, she had managed to kick him in the balls. That pulled him away from her long enough to open the door and start running back towards the front door. Before she had gotten to the end of the hallway, Max had caught up with her. Arms wrapped around her body as she fell to the floor. She cried out in pain as she landed, pinned beneath Max’s heavy figure. He had rolled her to her back, arm cranked back, and before she knew it, pain spread across her cheek as he landed a blow. She didn’t have time to cry out before another came down, and another, and another. 

Crying and trying to free herself from his ruthless grasp, she looked around to see if there was anything she could use to defend herself. She managed to spot a glass bowl sitting on a table within reach. Grasping it firmly, she brought it down with a crash against his head. It seemed to knock him out, or at least debilitate him long enough for her to run back into his bedroom and shut the door. She locked it as more tears slid down her cheeks, stinging the fresh bruises. She slid down onto the floor, silently crying, trying to figure out what the hell had happened in the last 5 minutes. Pounding on the other side of the door tore a shriek from her lips, sliding backwards away from the door so close to breaking. Max still hadn’t said a word, and she didn’t even care as she found her phone. Dialing 911, she found herself hiding beneath his clothes in his closet, trying to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Hello, 911. What is your emergency?”

She was too stunned to speak, not quite knowing how to handle the situation. 

“Hello? Are you there?” 

Raspily, she answered. “Hi, yes. I need help. My friend’s brother just attacked me. I don't know why.”

“Okay, what is the address of his house?”

Once she gave the address, the operator spoke again. “Miss, there are officers 3 minutes from the house. Do you need me to stay on the line with you?”

She just wanted to get out of here. She wanted to find Lando. She just wanted to go home. 

“Miss?”

“No, it's fine. I’m hiding and I haven’t heard him in a minute. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Okay miss. Officers should be pulling up shortly. When they do you need to make your presence known so they know where you are.”

“I will. Thank you.”

When she hung up, she tried calling Lando, wanting his comfort more than anything right now. But he didn’t answer. She tried calling him again. And still no answer but she decided to leave a voicemail to see if he would at least care about what was happening. Crying even harder that the one person she wanted was ignoring her, she neglected to hear that the officers were finally in the home. She finally heard the shouting coming from the living room. Stepping out of her hiding spot, she hesitantly walked towards the bedroom door, opening it in time to see the officers tackling Max to the floor. One officer looked up to see her standing there. She walked towards y/n, hands held high to show she wasn’t a threat. 

“Ma’am, are you okay? Were you the one that called? Do you need help?” 

Y/n was half hiding behind the door, still scared out of her mind, but slowly started to shake her head yes, her tears falling more rapidly. The officer walked closer, reaching the bedroom door, finally able to see the condition that y/n was in. 

“It’s okay. I’m here to help. He’s not going to hurt you again. You’re safe.” The officer wrapped her arms around Y/n, hating the way she was flinching. “It’s okay. You’re safe. He’s leaving. You’re safe now.” Y/n looked up to see the other officers dragging a confused looking Max out the front door. 

“Why don’t you let the paramedics take a look at you. Just to make sure your neck is going to be okay, okay? I will be with you every step of the way.” She slowly nodded her head, too afraid to trust her voice. 

Y/n let the officer walk her outside, just in time to see Max being put into the back of a car. She sat silently in the back of the ambulance as the medics checked her out to ensure that she didn’t need to go to the hospital. When she was done, she tried calling Lando one more time, hoping that he would finally pick up. She needed someone, not wanting to call Heidi just yet. She hung her head in sorrow as his voicemail played for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour. A part of her was worried that he was hurt, that that was why he wasn’t answering his phone. Or maybe he was done with her. Maybe he finally realized how clingy and annoying she was and wanted nothing to do with her anymore. She was praying that wasn’t what was happening. She couldn’t handle someone else betraying her today. 

“Ma’am, would you mind walking me through what happened?” The officer seemed hesitant to ask due to Y/n’s quiet behavior since they came face to face. Y/n nodded her head, then began to recant the horrific events that took place 30 minutes ago. The officer didn’t rush her and let her take a break when it was getting too hard. 

Once she was free to leave, she got in her car and drove straight to Lando’s. She wanted to know why the one person she could rely on suddenly went silent. If only she could prepare herself for what was about to happen. 

--------------------------------

Y/n was done. She tried to call him again, but he never responded. Not once. If he wanted to be friends, he needed to understand that this was not something you do. You don’t ignore someone who is helping you, someone who needs you.

As y/n got to his apartment, seething with rage, she didn’t bother knocking. It wasn’t like she hadn’t spent most of the last 3 months sitting in this apartment with him. She just wanted to figure out why he seemed to disappear.

“Lando!” She yelled, voice still scratchy, as she searched through each room. “Lando! What the hell? Where are you?”

Walking towards his room, she got nervous. What if he wasn’t home? What if he’s hurt somewhere and Daniel doesn’t know? What if he isn’t alone? Turning the handle, she was wracked with nerves but was relieved when she saw Lando sitting at the end of his bed. Thankfully alone.

“As relieved as I am to see you, you have to learn to answer your phone! I was so worried about you.” Y/n noticed he hadn’t moved while she was talking. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?” she knelt down between his knees, trying to see where his head was at.

“Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?” She touched a hand to his face in an attempt to look him in the eyes. As she rested her hand, it seemed to pull him out of his trance.

Lando quickly stood from the bed, knocking y/n back in the process. “What are you doing here?”

In shock and confusion, y/n rose from the floor. “I needed to talk to you. Something happened, but you weren’t answering your phone. I didn’t know what to do, so I came over to make sure you were okay and to ask for he-”

Even though he was looking right at her, he didn’t seem to notice the split lip, the black eye, the bruising around her throat, or the tear tracks running down her cheeks. “I didn’t ask you to come, and I don’t want you here!” He stepped closer, so they were face to face. “You’re not my girlfriend. What do you want me to do?” He turned away.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong, open up to me! You’ve forced me to open up to you without giving anything in return. I want you to trust me.” It had killed her to think he didn’t feel like they were as close as they were. Yes, this started out as an arrangement, but it had turned into so much more. At least, to her it did. What she didn’t know was that he was starting to feel the same way, but because of the example set by his father, he was so afraid of becoming the same. He would do whatever he needed to shove his feelings down far enough that they would never surface. He was afraid of the pain they may bring. 

With her heart cracking, he turned back, ready to spew more venom. “What the hell do you want me to do? It’s not like we’re together. It’s not like we would ever be together!” His words stilled her, stealing all the breath from her lungs, and shattering what was left of her heart into a million pieces. Y/n’s eyes rimmed again with tears as realization flew across his face and his whole body sagged.

The first tear dropped onto her bruised cheek, and she could feel every broken piece of her heart at that moment. “Right,” she murmured, head dropping to the floor.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, you did,” she said solemnly. “It’s my fault. You told me at the start. You’re not someone I want as my friend. I just didn’t believe you until now. I thought things had changed.”

As he stood there, he could see her resolve start to disappear and the numbness take its place. It was also then that he finally took note of her appearance. Hurt added to the guilt that was overflowing inside him. It was clear that something terrible had happened, and instead of being the friend he told her he could be, he had failed her. His heart had started to splinter. She started to back away to leave before he could hurt her anymore. All she wanted to do was hide. Hide somewhere he couldn’t find her and never leave. He tried to step towards her, but she held up her hand. He instantly stilled.

“Please. Please don’t. Just let me leave.”

He stepped back, nodding his head. He never wanted to cause her pain and didn’t want to hurt her any more than he had. He watched as she walked through the bedroom door, standing with his head hung low. He could hear her start to sob and then hear the sound of the front door closing.

“Fuck,” he said as he sat on the bed. He couldn’t believe he had hurt the girl who meant everything to him, the girl he loved. He wanted to tell her. He would give anything to tell her that he loved her. The only thing holding him back was his fear of becoming his father.

He sat there for a while, head in his hands, as he yelled at himself. How stupid could he be to hurt one of the only people who seemed to care about him these days. He walked from his bedroom to his kitchen, immediately going to the vodka bottle hiding in the back of his fridge. Downing shot after shot, he wanted to do anything that would help numb the pain and guilt he was feeling. He wasn’t sure when, but he had moved to the living room, blankly staring at what was playing on TV while he finished the bottle. 

A knock sounded on the door, catching his attention. He stumbled his way over to the door, having a hard time turning the lock in his inebriated state. Half of him was hoping it was y/n, that she had come back to him. What he wasn’t expecting was Daniel, standing there with tear tracks running down his face. 

Lando was definitely not sober enough for the conversation that was about to happen. 

Daniel moved his way around his friend, stopping in the center of the living room. “Did Y/n come by? She hasn’t been answering anyone’s calls.”

Lando had definitely had way too much to drink. He moved past Daniel and stumbled his way back to the couch, falling down into his previous position. “Maybe. Why do you want to know?”

Daniel seemed a little taken back. “Did she tell you what happened or were you a jackass to her as well.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Yes, she came over. She didn’t tell me what happened, but I saw her face. Something else happened and she left suddenly. Why does any of this matter to you anyway?”

“Because Max was the one who hurt her! She hasn’t talked to me or Heidi, and the only reason I know is because I had to go to the police station because they arrested Max. He still hasn’t said a word to anyone and the officer that helped y/n once the police got there was the only one who told me anything that happened.”

Every word coming out of Daniel’s mouth was adding more and more to the guilt wracking Lando’s body. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to apologize. 

-------------------------------- 

Y/n waited a few days before she went back to work, not yet wanting anyone to see her so broken. She did, however, not want to spend her time cooped up in her apartment. Not when he could find her so easily. Instead, she went to the one place she knew no one could find or, or so she thought. 

Sitting in her hiding spot, in the back of the library, she was surprised to hear someone calling her name. Someone she believed never wanted to see her again. 

“Y/n, I thought I might find you here.” She glanced up at him but said nothing as he sat down across from her on the floor. “I want you to know how sorry I am for what I said the other night. For how I acted. It was a stupid thing to say, and I didn’t mean it.”

As he sat down, he was able to get a good look at her face. His stomach clenched in guilt, anger, fear, he couldn’t tell. He was still so angry at himself for not realizing sooner what had happened to her. Angry that he wasn’t there to protect her like he should have been, if only he would’ve picked up his phone. 

When she still didn’t say anything, he continued. “You’re clever, you’re smart, and funny, and beautiful, and kind, and weirdly good at puzzles. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.” he took a deep breath, “The truth is, I just don’t want to be a friend to you. I want to be a good one.”

Y/n tried to form a coherent sentence but all she could say was “friend?”

He nodded, “Yes, I want to be a good friend to you. We…” he trailed off, “We are friends. Aren't we?”

She looked at him closely and was surprised to see that he looked almost nervous for her response. “Yes,” she said at last. “Yes, we’re friends.” 

He let out a sigh of relief at her answer but was scared of what he said next. “I listened to the voicemail. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you. I should have been, and this is all my fault.”

He could see her closing in on herself, wanting to avoid talking about what had happened. It wasn’t until then that she realized she never told him who had done this to her. She never said Max’s name in the voicemail. 

“What happened?”

She wished the floor would just open up and swallow her already. She had been trying so hard to get the events from a few days ago out of her mind only to have it all rushing back when she looked at herself in the mirror. 

When she still hadn’t answered, he reached out to touch her hand, letting her know that he wasn’t going anywhere, that she could trust him to be there this time. After a few moments, she looked up at him with tears gleaming in her eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, she began to tell him what had happened. With every word that left her mouth, he could feel himself getting more and more angry. With himself for being so stupid, at Max for doing this to someone so sweet, he didn’t know. 

When she was finished, he hung his head in shame. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you called. I was being stupid and thought…I don’t know what I was thinking, but I promise you I will never ignore you again. I will always be there when you call.”

She didn’t realize that she had been waiting for him to say those words until they had been let out into the universe. Tears started to run down her cheeks which caused Lando to panic as he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his warm chest. He sat there with her while she cried for what had happened. They stayed curled up in each other on the floor for a while before she lifted her head. 

“I don’t even know if Heidi knows what happened. I’ve been avoiding calling her. I-“

He could tell that she was panicking again so he took her face in his hands. “Hey, you don’t need to call her now if you don’t want to. You can take all the time you need. Why don’t you let me help you home and we can just hang out for now. How does that sound?”

She nodded her head, not trusting her voice whilst on the verge of another breakdown. Lando helped her off the floor and walked her out of the library with his arm around her shoulder. 

“Why don’t you let me drive and we can come back later if you want and get your car? You aren’t in any condition to drive.” She looked at him, finally seeing the man she had wanted, hoped for. As she nodded her head once more, he looked at her, making sure she was okay as they slid into his car. She didn’t care who drove, as long as he was with her, she felt safe.

[formulaforza]

—strawberry wine

and all the times we used to have. (nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft). pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: language, angst babyyy love, mackie... 5k ish. this is. definitely something. perhaps it should have stayed in the drafts but dani selected it from a group of it's peers yesterday evening.

It’s been years since you last spent enough time at the vineyard to be considered even a part-time employee. It’s hard to be there, now, in a way it didn’t used to be. Watching it fade away into obscurity and beg someone–anyone–to buy the property to land so your family can get out without generational debt. The fields just hold so many memories, an ancestral kind of history; your first job, the place you had your first drink, where you fell both in, and out of love for the first time. Being there now, watching it die a malignant death is just… sad. There isn’t anything poetic about it. 

You long for the days of the peak, of never ending days spent behind the counter in the barn selling wealthy people on the aesthetics of a small, family-run vineyard. Of your father hosting tours and your mother tastings, of you, pink nose and shoulders kissed by the sun, picking grapes by hand. Of the days where help still had to be hired. 

For a while there, it seemed like there was a never ending rotation of teenagers and twenty-somethings willing to do manual labor for minimum wage–thirteen an hour–from sunup to sundown. They’d even host the occasional tour on busy Saturday evenings, would be compensated in under the table bottles of wine and cash tips. None of them ever stuck around longer than a couple months, found better jobs indoors, closer to school, better pay. Well, nobody except Daniel. 

Daniel worked at the vineyard for… four-ish years, with varying availability depending on seasons and school and racing. 

Sometimes, when you lose yourself to sentiments and fantasy, you imagine a world where the Vineyard never faced any competition, where it is still thriving and you take over your mother’s job when she retires. Daniel still works there, maybe in the fields where he was always supposed to be, or maybe front of house guiding tours and helping you with tastings. Life is simple and plain and at the end of every night you lock the barn doors  and go home together and eat dinner and grocery shop and do your taxes. Daniel strums the guitar on the porch when it rains. Life is easy and fun and you laugh more than you don’t. 

It’s silly, really. But first loves are always silly. 

He is one of the many memories that haunt the property, walking the lines of grapevines feeling more like a walk through a fogged out graveyard than anything. 

Even now, all these years later, you can still see him sat in the swivel chair in the office doorway, throwing grapes at you while you attempt to run the dusty cash register. It’s a cool July afternoon and he’s got a stupid grin on his face and can’t look anywhere but you. 

Daniel is kind of like those people you know you’re given young so that for the rest of your life you know what real feels like. They’re more a lesson than a lover, unfortunately. 

—

You move through the place like you own it, which, you suppose technically you do, in some will locked away in an accountant’s filing cabinet, this all belongs to you. Right now, though, you’re seventeen and just returning from school, already setting up your homework on the end of the counter, a spattering of greetings from the local customers and the local hands, the people who know that this is more of a natural habitat than anywhere else on the planet will ever be. 

Danny also moves around the place like he owns it, which, if it was up to him he probably would. He hums your name as he moves past, taps the opposite shoulder to the one he leans over, reading your textbook over your shoulder. “It’s seventeen,” he quips.

“It’s a history textbook,” you reply, eyes unmoving from the page. 

“Seventeen-seventy, cunt.” There’s a half-empty bowl of fruit sitting on the counter. He leans over you to grab an orange. “Captain Hook and such,” he adds, hosting himself up onto the counter with a thud. You’re sure one day the old wood is going to give out on him and he’ll fall straight onto his ass. Part of you hopes you’re around to see it, the other knows that he’ll find a way to not only make it your fault, but also tease you about it for a minimum of six months. 

“Fuck off, Danny,” you punctuate, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“It’s Daniel, now.”

You snort. Finally, you give him your attention. “Danny is too unprofessional for a hot-shot Red Bull junior driver like you?”

“See,” he pops his thumb harshly through the peel of the orange, the citrus scent wafting out into the humid air. “You get it.”

You pout. “I’m still going to call you Danny.”

“No you won’t,” he laughs. God, the smell of orange is overwhelming, the kind that lingers long after the fruit is gone. When Danny goes back to work in a few minutes, tosses the peel and into the trash by the office door, he’ll still linger in the room with the smell of citrus. 

“I will.”

“You know what,” he hums, biting into a slice. “Let me make you a deal.”

You smile, shake your head. “Shouldn’t I be the one making you a deal?”

He groans against the fruit, “Can you just?”

When you look up again, lean back in your chair and cross your arms, he has orange juice running down the side of his hand, all sweet and sticky and summery. “Fine.”

He smiles goofily, all fucking proud of himself just because you agreed to shut up for thirty seconds. “You can keep calling me Danny, but only if you let me take you out this weekend.”

“Danny,” you protest. This is far from the first time he’s tried to plant the seed of a date with him. It’s had to’ve been a year, by now. You know he’d drop it if you would just give him an answer, but a year later you still haven’t been able to deliver anything definitive. 

He shrugs. “‘Dem’s the rules, honey.”

Maybe what you say next is your greatest mistake, or maybe it was what you were always going to say. Maybe you feel like you can say it because he leaves again soon, for longer than ever. You won’t have to live with the consequences of your actions, of your words. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s simply that you think Daniel is far too proper a name for the sticky-handed vineyard tour guide you’ve grown particularly fond of. Danny is much more fitting for him, which is most certainly why you say, okay. When are you picking me up?

—

You drive out from your parents house with your dad in his old Ford Bronco. It’s half rusted out and half chipped blue paint, with worn leather seats and a steering wheel somehow more worn than the rest of it. Seven black tree air fresheners hand from the rearview mirror, new car smell. This relic is well past that–he’s been driving it out to the property literally forever, and this trip won’t be any exception. 

You hardly recognize the place, you think as you slam the squeaky door shut with enough force to make sure it really latches. 

The fields are overgrown with tall grass and shrubs and mustard flowers. The trunks of the grapevines act as headstones for the sprawling field of dry, sunburnt plants. You don’t think anyone has been out there with a plow in months, if not years. 

The barn, the one you grew up in, has been lost with the rest of the place to time. Red paint chips off the wood in massive flakes. The branding that had once run in big wooden letters along the top of the door have all since fallen, leaving a sad outline of your family name in its weathered wake. Two padlocks, one rusted shut, sit on the lock. Every step you take kicks up more dust. 

You’re removed from your thoughts, from the hauntings and the sentiment and the memories, by the creaking of the tailgate on your father’s truck. Stuffed in the back of the Bronco are your afternoon tasks; a pair of bulk cutters for the padlocks,  a new, state of the art keypad lock given to your Dad by a realtor, a post hole digger, and five for-sale signs haphazardly packed any way they would fit. 

You spend most of the next couple hours digging holes along the road, filling them with the wooden posts of the for-sale signs, looking disapprovingly at the thirty-something in a suit that has been tasked with selling the unsellable property. 

This is, what… the fifth person you’d hired to sell this fucking place. Soon enough, you’re going to be sticking up For Sale by Owner signs with a hand-written phone number in black sharpie along the fences that were supposed to keep animals out. Realtors were never in the budget to begin with. 

—

You’re waiting on the old front porch when he pulls up in his beat-up truck, John Denver playing through the open windows, his hand moving in the wind up the entire dusty driveway. You don’t know what he can see, that your Mom is watching out the kitchen window with a friendly smile. 

You’ve got your best sundress on, one that you’d debated wearing for almost thirty-six hours. The first week Danny worked in front of house with you, he spent the entire shift flirting with one of your Dad’s friend’s daughters. He said that sundresses are a crime committed against teenage boys and that when he meets God he’s going to have words with him over pretty girls and their affinity for said sundresses. 

You’d laughed then, because you thought it was silly. You remembered it because you thought the new kid was kind of cute, in a you work for my parents and I could never think you’re cute way. 

“Fuck,” is the first word out of his mouth, before the car door is even closed behind him, followed quickly by a check of his watch and “am I late?”

“No, no,” you smile, tucking a wind-blown strand of hair behind your ear, standing to your feet on the wooden stairs. “You’re early, actually. I think,” you chuckle. “I’m just,” you can feel your cheeks flushing. “I’m just excited.”

“Yeah,” he moves to you quickly, nervously. In the way only teenage boys on a first date do. “I’m excited too.”

“You look nice,” you say, stepping down the final couple of steps and meeting his waiting hand. “Your hair. I feel like I only ever see you in a hat.”

“Thanks, yeah,” he laughs. You’ve always loved his laugh, even when he’s annoying you and annoying customers and annoying himself. His laugh has always been good. “You look beautiful. I’ve never seen you, I mean. Not that you don’t always look–”

“Danny,” you interject as he opens the passenger side door. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he offers a smile and closes the door. Just before it latches shut, though, you hear him finish his sentence. “Thank you.”

He takes you to King’s Park, to the botanical garden after a stop for ice cream. He tells you that he’s had a crush on you this entire time and you ask him to tell you something you don’t already know. It’s then, in the botanical garden next to the water garden, that he tells you about his quote-en-quote ‘silly, kind of, like, backup dream, I guess’ where he has his own vineyard, brews his own wine and spends every day half drunk and wholly happy. 

He stumbles through the entire telling of it, which is how you know he’s not fucking with you. He never gets nervous when it comes to fucking with you. 

Perhaps that is where your silly, kind of like, backup dream started. The one where you and Daniel are working at the vineyard together and life is all death and taxes and grocery bills but somehow, in the midst of all the dull normalcy, you’re both happy as happy can be. 

—

“Someone is out there looking at the place today,” your father tells you over the phone. You try to talk every day, a habit you’ve both picked up in the past couple years, in the time and space since you’ve turned thirty. 

“You’re kidding,” you say. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, shoveling spoonfuls of some health-conscious cereal into your mouth (another post-thirtieth habit). “Who?”

“I don’t know, kid,” you swear you can hear the frown on his face, the deep smile lines and the frustrated forehead wrinkles from months in the direct southern sun. “Probably some fucking developer.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he sighs. “If I’m right, I’d bet they break ground on a neighborhood within the year.”

Your sigh matches his. You can’t even imagine it, front yards and vinyl flooring and white walls built on a foundation of your childhood memories. It’s like going back home, to your childhood home that you sold so many years ago, and discovering it’s been bulldozed, wiped clean from the face of the Earth. “That’s so sad.”

“I know, but, well. You know, honey. It’s not like we have much choice.”

You nod. You do understand. You understand more than you wish you did. “I know. I know. Still pretty fuckin’ sad, though.”

There’s a long silence. The kind of silence that can only be shared by a father and a daughter; a silence that speaks more words than the dictionary can hold. “She’d understand it,” he finally speaks.  “She wouldn’t fucking like it, but she would understand it.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know she would.”

—

“Are you going to kill me?” You giggled, stumbling over your feet. Danny is leading you on the property, one hand over your eyes, the other on your waist, guiding you poorly. 

“And be the first fucking suspect?” He laughs. “I think not.”

“Okay, then where are you taking me?” You beg. It's been going on like this for some half hour, before he even covered your eyes.

He laughs. You laugh. All the two of you do is laugh. “Can’t you lighten up?”

“Not when I’m being led to my death. No, I can’t!”

He stops, turns you around a hundred and eighty degrees and takes his hand off your eyes, fingers digging into either of your shoulders. “Babe," he says, and you'd think he was about to tell you he killed someone.

You mimic his seriousness, find humor in it. “Babe.”

“You trust me.”

“Do I?” You smile. He cocks his head to one side and rolls his big brown eyes. You would commit crimes for his eyes. “I do.”

“Okay, so then fucking trust me.”

“Okay,” you nod, closing your eyes.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Okay," you reach blindly for his hand, bring it to your eyes to block the light from them once more. "I trust you. Let’s go.”

After a short, terribly blind walk, Danny finally stops. You’ve been able to hear the river that flows out the back of the property for twenty minutes, but it’s close enough now that you can smell it; the sticks and the rocks and the mud and the water. You can practically feel the splashing of the water bouncing off the boulders.

“Okay. Open,” he instructs, removing his hand from your eye, moving his arms to hug you from behind, arms wrapped over the front of your chest. 

You open your eyes to find a picnic, carefully set up with a spread of dinner and drinks and dessert, complete with a plaid flannel blanket and candles that smell like citronella masked with lavender and a bouquet of white roses already in a water filled vase. “Danny,” you hum, leaning your head back against his shoulder. 

He kisses your temple, whispers against your hair, “Happy Anniversary.”

“Danny,” you drag out the letters of his name, of the nickname he only lets the people he loves call him by. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy and special. 

“Honey,” he mocks you, sways behind you. 

“This is too much,” You crane your neck to look at him, and then turn your whole body so you’re flush against his chest, close in a way only you get to be. “You’re so sweet.”

He laughs and it vibrates in both of your chests. A feeling you’ll never tire of. “I mean, this is not too much. Arguably, this is too little.”

“No,” you back away, out of his grip and take small steps backwards, towards the picnic and the waiting meal, pulling him along with you by interlocked pinkies. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Well,” his grin grows. “I can’t argue with that.”

“I love you so much,” you tell him, because you do, because you’re eighteen and everything in this life is so simple and black and white.

“I love you, too, and–”

“Oh my gosh,” you cut him off, wide-eyed and giddy. “Wine with strawberries?”

He nods. “Strawberry wine, if you will. For the winery with no strawberry fields.”

“This is better,” you state, with the utmost confidence, without even a sip or a sniff or any idea of what white wine he’d used as a base for his little cocktail. 

“Definitely not, but sure.”

“It is, because you made it for me. That makes it perfect.”

—

You’re completely removed from the actual buying and selling of the property. It isn’t up to you to decline or accept or field offers, that’s all your dad. The place is still his, at least for a couple more weeks while all the paperwork processes.

It was an anonymous buyer, according to your Dad. Cash offer, over asking price. He’s not sure how the real estate agent managed it, and honestly? Neither are you. Objectively, that land isn’t worth the cost of cleaning it up. Everyone in their right mind knows it. You just come from a particular bloodline where the mind never was quite right when it came to the vineyard. 

What shocks you most, though, is that the anonymous buyer–supposedly–is interested in restoring the place rather than bulldozing it.

“They asked me about the dirt,” your dad tells you on one of your daily phone calls. “Wanted to know about berries.”

“Berries?”

“Yeah, strawberries or raspberries or something like that.”

You scoff. What kind of fucking idiot is buying this land? It might just be a herd of manufactured houses after all. “Well, it’s too hot here for raspberries. Everyone knows that.”

“I know, that’s what I told them. They could probably grow strawberries in July or August.”

“Are they trying to make strawberry wine or something?” And, as if this is some fucked up kind of movie, and not real life, it all comes back to you. Every memory, every moment, all at the thought of fucking strawberries in wine. 

“Good fucking luck to them, if they are.” Your grandparents entertained the idea of it once, all the fruit wines. It’s a fucking shit-show, according to legend. Hell to try and make, Heaven to taste. It just wasn’t worth it for them. But apparently now it’s worth it to someone.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, bite and bite until you’re worried you’ll draw blood, that you’re a single tooth away from popping a hole clear through the skin. There’s no way, there’s genuinely no way, right? “Dad?”

“Shoot.”

“It’s not.” You almost stop yourself, you almost have some common fucking sense and realize just how vast the world is and how completely unlikely it is that– almost. You almost stop yourself. “The anonymous buyer, it isn’t Daniel, is it?”

“Daniel?” He scoffs on the other end. “Better not be that fucking cunt.”

You smile, the kind of smile that you know you should feel guilty for having. “He’s not a cunt, Dad.”

“I never fucking liked that kid.”

You’re right–you think. You’re right, Dad. You didn’t like him. “You loved him.”

“No, I lost all my respect for him when he left you like he did,” his voice is laced with a calm seriousness. He’s always been your blind defender. 

“Yeah, Dad,” you pause. Now’s as good a time as any, you suppose. “I’ve been… that’s not exactly how it went down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Daniel didn’t leave me, and even if he did, Dad, he wouldn’t have done it then.”

—

“What the fuck are you talking about, you’re breaking up with me?” His voice cuts through continents. He’s somewhere in the UK, or maybe Italy, or maybe Asia. You honestly can’t keep track anymore, can barely keep track of the days of the week that you’re living much less the ones he’s in. 

“It’s exactly what I said, Daniel,” you say, try to keep your voice as level headed as possible, to juxtapose the way your mind races, the way your heart rate spikes and your palms sweat and everything in you hurts. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“No, no. I’m making this fucking hard,” he’s riled up enough for the both of you. “You don’t just. This isn’t how this works, babe. You can’t just break up with me.” He’s raising his voice with you. You can count on one hand and have fingers left over the amount of times Danny has yelled at you, and this is the first time it’s not scary. 

“I can, and I am,” your voice comes from your throat, choked out over the lull of your entire body begging you to please, please don’t do this. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry!” He yells, the last letter sound cracking with the realization of his actions. “You’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Okay, sure. Whatever.” He doesn’t make this easy, not that you’d expected it to be easy. You’d hoped for something cleaner, though. Less mess. “I’m having a great time breaking your heart.”

“Just. Why? Why are you doing this? What happened? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, D,” you sigh. You didn’t know that your heart could physically hurt. You thought that was some crap that they made up for movies and songs and poems, some grand metaphor for how sad you get. “I can’t be a girlfriend right now. To anyone.”

“That’s such bullshit.”

You can feel yourself shutting down, closing every part of yourself off, running on pure survival instincts. “I know. I’m a cunt.”

“You aren’t… fuck me. I mean, fuck, dude.” He laughs. There’s not a thing about it that sounds happy. “I know you don’t want this, I know it. Talk to me, please. Tell me what’s going on and I can help you and everything is going to be fine, baby. Just. Please.”

“Daniel.”

“Why are you calling me that?!”

“It’s what you like to be called!” You yell back, feel the burn in your nose and your cheeks and the sting in your chest. 

There’s silence for so long you wonder if he’s hung up, if you’re supposed to. It’s minutes before he speaks again. “Not by you, it’s not.”

—

It’s been just past a year since the place got sold, and nobody from your family–nobody–has been there since. You moved out of town years before the sale, and your Dad has joined you, wants to be near you in his ever increasing age and always deepening wrinkles. When the arthritis sets in, someone needs to forge my signature for me, he tells you. 

It’s not until her birthday that you’re back in Perth, that you’re struck with the sudden spark, with the idea to drive past the vineyard, to see what idiot is trying to plant raspberries in the Australian heat, to see who's living in your shoes and wearing your clothes and sleeping under your bed like a monster. 

“I don’t know that we should do that,” your Dad says. “It’s going to make you sad.”

You shrug in the passenger seat of the old Bronco. “We’re in the parking lot of a cemetery, so,” you offer a near silent chuckle. “I think we’re a bit past sad.”

“Okay,” he nods. “There’s something you should know, then.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a neighborhood.”

“No, no. It’s a vineyard. Strawberries and grapes in the fields.”

“Well, good then,” you nod, glide your hands through the air outside the open window. “What’s wrong with it?”

He shrugs, drums his fingers on the beat up steering wheel. “You remember when you asked me last year if it was Daniel?”

“Dad. Don’t.”

“Well, I didn’t know it then, but–”

“I’m serious. Don’t tell me this, please,” you’re a second away from sticking your fingers in your ears and humming a nursery rhyme to keep the unsaid unspoken. 

“Daniel bought the place, hon.”

“My Daniel?” You squeak. You haven’t felt this young in a while. Or this small. 

He laughs, turns to face you with a look that begs you not to be so damn daft. “The only Daniel that means anything to anyone in this family.”

“When did you find out?”

“As soon as they put the sign up. I was still living out here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You have so many questions. You don’t think there’s any you actually want answers to. 

“What good was it going to do? I never thought you’d be back here.”

“Well. I’m back.”

He nods. “You’re back.”

You’re back. You never really left, you don’t think. It’s not something you can do around here. Perth is in your blood the same way wine is, some grand, immovable part of your soul. You suppose Daniel is there too, taking up a plot of land in your soul that can never be sold. He lives in you like summertime and sadness and strawberries. Strawberries. Him and his fucking strawberry white wines. 

“He’s got strawberries?” You croak. Tears pull on your voice but you won’t give them the satisfaction. You’re grown now, it’s time to fucking act like it. 

“Strawberry wine. First batches just came out last month. I heard it’s pretty good.”

“I bet.”

“You still wanna go?”

You nod, cold and stunted. “Yeah.”

You see the cars before you see the barn, they’re overflowing out of the parking lot and stopped on the side of the dirt road that leads to the drive. You’ve never seen it so busy. It looks like the pictures your parents used to show you, the ones where the place was fresh and new and shiny. The barn has a fresh coat of red paint, the parking lot is repaved and half full of ATVs with a logo for DR3 Wines printed on either side. 

Above the door, a matching phrase, in simple white wooden letters–like what once was–hangs, announces the place to passers by. 

Inside, it smells like wood, like lavender and citronella and alcohol. There are pictures on every wall, carefully framed photos of everyone in the world besides him. The counter is that same old slab of wood, the one that you always hoped he would fall through. On the wall behind is are more 4x6 photos than you can count, all unframed, all messily taken. He’s in some of those, holding a camera or posing with friends or hugging a grapevine. There’s one with you, right in the middle. You and he and your Mom on the back field picking grapes. It’s taken by your dad, you still remember that morning clear as day. 

There’s another of you; a selfie taken on a point-and-shoot, the two of you with glasses of white wine and strawberries. Next to it is a picture of Kristen Bell and Dax Shephard leaning against the counter, half-drunk glasses in each of their hands. 

Framed, on the edge of the counter, right beside the register, is a photo of the place when he first started working there, of your Mom and your Dad standing proudly in front of it. You took it. You left it in the office when your Dad decided to lock the doors for good. Our Story, the plaque below it reads, with a QR code to scan. 

It leads to a linktree, to social media links and tasting menus and a merchandise shop. The last link, though, is stomach curling. It’s her name, your Mom’s. Fighting for her, it reads. When you click it, you’re taken to a website that encourages donations, that spreads awareness and promotes research, that thanks Daniel by name twice in two paragraphs for his consistent and generous donations and support. 

Before you can make a bee-line for the exit, to tell your Dad that he was right and this was a mistake, you’re met with a red-faced teenage girl asking you if there’s anything she can help you with. “No, uh,” you swallow hard. “My parents were the previous owners, we just stopped in to see the place.”

“Oh my gosh, would you like a tour?”

“Um…” you pause, because you don’t know if you can handle being here. Seeing the place like this again. “Danny’s not… Daniel isn’t here, is he?” She shakes her head. You nod. “Then yeah, I guess. Let me just grab my dad?”

—

You get an invite to a VIP tasting at his vineyard two weeks after your visit. It’s scheduled during the F1 summer break, so you have no doubt he’ll be there, and if that wasn’t clue enough, his handwriting glaring back at you on the invite is about as obvious as obvious can be. 

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your Dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine–the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

read part two, everywhere, everything, here!

[usernyoom]

i'm in bed and i'm wondering // if i'm calloused but hoping // can i fix what is broken?

Still (Noah Kahan) x Daniel Ricciardo's time away from Red Bull Racing