its-avalon-08

[its-avalon-08]

🏁 pairing : Daniel Riccardo x Verstappen!Sister!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏎️ summary: he was the honey badger with a grin that could silence storms, and she was max verstappen’s little sister—always there, always watching, never saying too much. they’d spent years orbiting each other, but after singapore'24 when daniel quietly stepped away from formula 1, everything shattered. now she’s left wondering if he was ever just a friend or the great love she let slip through her fingers without ever saying a word.

NOTE : sorry for no updates my lovelies, a recent message from one of you guys motivated me to upload the next chapter cause it's unacceptable that I left you guys hanging for so long :( wont happen again <3

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter six : where do broken hearts go

The air between them buzzed with the weight of all she had said. Daniel blinked, stunned, still watching her. His mouth opened like he wanted to speak but he hesitated.

Y/N’s head had dipped, shoulders trembling as silent tears slipped past her cheeks. Her breathing was uneven now, more shallow, like holding it in had become too much.

“I didn’t know…” Daniel said finally, his voice rough. “I didn’t know it meant that much to you. I thought you were just..just being kind. I didn’t want to take more from you. I didn’t want to ask--”

“Don’t,” she muttered, voice hoarse. Her hands had curled into fists at her sides.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he continued, desperate now. “I thought I was protecting you. From me. From everything. I didn’t want you to get caught in the fallout of--”

She looked up sharply, her eyes burning, her accent slipping out so naturally, so furious it made the word land like a slap.

“Bullshit.”

Daniel flinched.

“You didn’t protect me,” she spat. “You erased me. You made decisions for me. You put me in your silence like I was something to be ashamed of .... something disposable.”

“I never thought that--”

“Then why did you act like it?” Her voice broke again, louder this time. “Why did you fucking leave? Why did you stay gone?! Nothing stopped you from running back, reaching out, fucking apologising.”

Daniel blinked hard, his own eyes glossy now. “I didn’t think I deserved you.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. One that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Shut the fuck up Daniel. I was better when you weren’t in my life, Dan.”

Her voice was flat now. But her chest was still heaving.

“I was better, goddammit.” Her dutch accent was slipping making every curse hit harder like a dagger to Daniel's heart.

Daniel shook his head, a helpless tremble in his jaw. “Y/N, don’t—fuck, I know we fought, I know I messed up, but please—don’t say that. Don’t tell me that.”

“Why the fuck not, Dan?!” she snapped, suddenly loud again. “Why not? Isn’t it the truth? You left. You moved on. And now you’re back and I’m—what? Supposed to pretend none of it happened?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled like it hurt.

“I’m done with this,” she whispered.

“Y/N, please—”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” she said, her voice fragile but final. “And for ruining your night.”

Her thumb moved.

And just like that—

Call Ended.

The screen went black.

And Daniel was left staring at his own reflection, whispering her name into a silence that didn’t answer back.

-

He sat on the edge of his bed, still in the same hoodie he’d been wearing when she called. The room felt too big, too empty, and the light from his phone screen kept burning into his vision even though it was black now. Call ended. No missed calls. No new texts.

Across the world -well, across the city- Y/N sat at the foot of her hotel bed, her hands pressed to her face. She hadn’t bothered turning the lights on, letting Melbourne’s street glow spill through the curtains. Her phone was still in her lap, screen dark, but she swore she could still hear his voice. That sharp “Y/N, please.”

She was lost, so intensely lost in her own thoughts.

Daniel leaned forward, elbows on his knees, raking his hands through his hair. He’d been so sure (so sure!!) that night in Singapore had been her blindsiding him. That she’d stood there, poking at his already cracked pride. That she’d meant to push him away. But now… Now he was replaying it differently.

Her eyes, nervous but warm, the way her voice had been soft when she’d first suggested Cadillac. The fact that she had stayed. Stayed in that sticky, humid night when most would’ve just let him walk off. He saw it all again—and hated the way his chest ached. He had lost her. He fucking self sabotaged. He left knowing full well he could hear her tears and silent gasps,

Y/N pulled her knees up to her chest on the bed, chin resting on them. Her mind was a floodgate now that the call was over. Daniel laughing on the pit wall during a rain delay.

Danny balancing two coffee cups in one hand, grinning like he’d won a world championship just finding her almond croissant. Dan's voice late at night when everyone else had gone, low and warm, telling her she was one of the few people who made this whole circus bearable.

She blinked hard, forcing the tears back. She wouldn’t let him make her cry again. But she was failing. She missed him, more than anything in the world. He was making her cry again but this time she was the one who initiated it.

Daniel finally pushed himself up, walking over to the window. Melbourne’s skyline glittered, indifferent. His reflection in the glass looked tired, older somehow. He remembered the way she’d looked at him the last time they’d been good—before Singapore—like she saw him and liked what she saw.

She was his best fucking friend. His confidant. His... everything. The feels he harboured for her, she would never know. All she would know is the pain he caused her. That is it.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. Now she looked at him like he was just another driver who’d passed her in the paddock. Except he wasn't even in the paddock anymore. He was just on the outside looking in.

Y/N stood to plug in her phone, avoiding looking at the background photo she’d never changed: her, Max, and Daniel on a yacht in Monaco, all sunburnt smiles. She should change it. {She wouldn’t.}

Daniel set his phone on the nightstand ,charging it, like if he kept the battery alive longer, she might text.

two beds. two rooms. two people lying awake with the same memories. just different wounds.

taglist : @cheer-bear-go-vroom , @britenysbitch @yllomhej @stuffyownswrld @princessria127 @easy4 @gluecksbaerchieee @percysaidnever @sltwins @sainz0fthetimes @landofotographyy @hashcakes @mskate105 @formula1girly81 @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @marijas-stuff @mayax2o07 @stylesmoonlight12 @shawnscurlz

[its-avalon-08]

if life doesn’t kill me,

nostalgia will.

[its-avalon-08]

🏁 pairing : Daniel Riccardo x Verstappen!Sister!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏎️ summary: he was the honey badger with a grin that could silence storms, and she was max verstappen’s little sister—always there, always watching, never saying too much. they’d spent years orbiting each other, but after singapore'24 when daniel quietly stepped away from formula 1, everything shattered. now she’s left wondering if he was ever just a friend or the great love she let slip through her fingers without ever saying a word.

NOTE : sorry for no updates my lovelies, a recent message from one of you guys motivated me to upload the next chapter cause it's unacceptable that I left you guys hanging for so long :( wont happen again <3

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter five : the world is crashing down

The memory video played a few more times as Daniel sat on the edge of his couch in apartment, one elbow resting on his knee, the other hand clenched around his phone like it was the only thing tethering him to Earth. He was still watching the slideshow of his pictures with Y/N. Again and again.

The slow-motion reel of blurry memories Y/N’s phone had stitched together now lived on a loop in his Photos app. A cruel, beautiful mosaic of everything they were before his own goddamn fear turned him into a coward. The video clip of Daniel grabbing Y/N and tossing her into the pool made him feel sick. He couldn't even recognise himself anymore.

He didn’t know what it meant. Why she sent it. Whether it was by mistake or some passive olive branch. But the second he saw it in his inbox, unprompted, just with the text she meant to send Kelly—he felt it in his spine, his bones and his heart.

She missed him. Maybe not in a way she’d admit. Maybe not in a way that forgave him yet. But something in her still saw him. And that was enough.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered under his breath, raking a hand through his curls. He stared at her contact name, thumbs hovering.

Then he started typing.

Daniel Ricciardo: “Y/N. That memory. I haven’t stopped watching it.”

Backspace. That sounded desperate.

He tried again.

Daniel Ricciardo: “Guess the algorithm has better timing than I ever did.” “Can we talk?” “Please?” “Whatever it is… I’ll listen. I swear I will this time.”

He waited. No reply. He looked again.

Not Delivered.

“What the fuc—?” he muttered, sitting up straighter. He sent another message.

Daniel Ricciardo: “Y/N?”

Still undelivered.

His stomach sank. “Airplane mode,” he realized aloud, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. “Classic Y/N. Run away the second things get hard.” He rubbed at his jaw, still staring at the little red exclamation marks beside his texts.

“Fine. I’ll wait,” he whispered, but he didn’t stop staring at the screen. He couldn’t.

Elsewhere, 1:07 a.m.

Y/N hadn’t moved from the bed.

She'd been sitting cross-legged with a blanket wrapped around her, laptop open but screen dark. Her phone lay beside her now, mocking her in its eerie silence.

What the fuck was happening? In a matter of hours all the hard work she had put into moving on and being okay had gone down the drain. Not only had she physically has a spat with Daniel she had now texted him with the video that made her look fucking ridiculous.

She’d gone the last few hours pretending she didn’t care. She played music. Filed receipts. Lit a candle like that would fix anything.

But the longer she ignored it, the louder her curiosity became.

She exhaled, picked up the phone, and swiped up to turn off airplane mode.

It blinked once. Then flooded with a series of "pings".

Buzz. 1 New Message from Daniel Ricciardo Buzz. 1 New Message from Daniel Ricciardo Buzz. 1 New Message from Daniel Ricciardo

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened them.

Daniel Ricciardo: “Guess the algorithm has better timing than I ever did.” “Can we talk?” “Please?” “Whatever it is… I’ll listen. I swear I will this time.”

Y/N blinked. Her chest did that aching-crack-open thing again.

She quickly hit the side button—intending to screenshot and send it to Kelly with a thousand exclamation marks and a WHAT DO I DO?!

But her thumb slipped.

And instead of screenshotting—

The screen turned green. FaceTime Calling: Daniel Ricciardo…

“NO—OHMYGOD—wat de fuck gebeurt er in mijn leven! (what the fuck is happening in my life!)” she squeaked, yanking her phone away from her face, pressing random buttons in a panic. But before she could even think of hanging up—

The call connected.

And Daniel’s face filled her screen in dim warm lighting, eyes wide and so present, voice cracking softly as he said—

“Hi, hun.” Y/N wanted to fucking punch the tan Aussie man through the screen.

-

Y/N stared at the screen in horror. His face—his face—was right there. Warm eyes and that tiny wrinkle between his brows when he was trying to be careful.

Everything inside her felt like it was crawling, trying to escape. She gripped the phone like it might explode.

“This was a mistake, Ricciardo,” she said, voice clipped and shaking. “I’m hanging up now.”

She reached for the red button. But then Daniel spoke.

“Running away never fixed anything, Y/N,” he said quietly, and the weight of his voice made her fingers pause. “Please.”

Silence.

She looked down and away, jaw tight, breath shaky. Her thumb hovered. Daniel saw it.

He exhaled slowly and leaned in, his voice no longer soft—just steady, real.

“Why do you always do that?” he said, not unkindly. “Why do you disappear the second things get messy? Why won’t you just stay, for once? Why won’t you let yourself talk to me? I mean we used to be friends Y/N. Actual genuine friends.”

Her lip trembled.

“You sent that memory,” he added. “You sent it, Y/N. So don’t act like none of it meant anything. Don’t act like I didn’t mean anything to you. That you didn't care about me. I guess you're some bight who's just closed herself off and is too good for old friends like me now—”

She snapped.

The screen shook as she yelled.

“HOW DARE YOU—”

Daniel didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He just watched her.

“How dare you fucking accuse me of running,” her voice cracked, “when I was the only one still standing there the night you walked away!”

Her breaths came fast, her whole body tense with the force of everything she had buried.

“I was there, Daniel. I was always fucking there. I was there when you and Max crashed. I was there when you won a race. I was there when McLaren dropped you. I sat with you when you couldn’t even look at yourself, I stayed when it wasn’t my job to. I comforted you when you pushed me away, when you pretended none of this hurt you—like it didn’t fucking gut me too!”

Tears blurred her vision now, but she didn’t stop.

“You don’t get to stand there and throw your own guilt at me. You don’t get to ask why I’m scared—when you were the one who made me feel like I was nothing more than convenience.”

Her voice wavered, then cracked completely, tears now flowing freely.

“I held it together for you. I kept showing up for you even when it broke me a little more every time you brushed me off like I was just—just a fucking placeholder in your life.”

Daniel opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I was your friend,” she whispered. “Your fucking friend. And I wanted nothing more than for you to be okay. Even if it meant I had to stitch my own heart back together every time you looked at me like I was just there.”

The tears came then. Not dramatic, not loud. Just quietly real. She wiped her face once, shaking.

“So don’t ever tell me I didn’t care. Because I did. And the only reason I am the way I am is because of YOU. And I’ve spent months trying to forget the way it felt to be nothing to someone who was everything to me.”

She exhaled sharply and shut her eyes.

And on the other end of the line, Daniel still hadn’t said a word.

His chest was tight. His throat ached.

And for the first time in forever, he realized—he didn’t know her pain at all.

Not yet.

But he would.

taglist : @cheer-bear-go-vroom , @britenysbitch @yllomhej @stuffyownswrld @princessria127 @easy4 @gluecksbaerchieee @percysaidnever @sltwins @sainz0fthetimes @landofotographyy @hashcakes @mskate105 @formula1girly81 @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @marijas-stuff @mayax2o07 @stylesmoonlight12

[its-avalon-08]

🏁 pairing : Daniel Riccardo x Verstappen!Sister!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏎️ summary: he was the honey badger with a grin that could silence storms, and she was max verstappen’s little sister—always there, always watching, never saying too much. they’d spent years orbiting each other, but after singapore'24 when daniel quietly stepped away from formula 1, everything shattered. now she’s left wondering if he was ever just a friend or the great love she let slip through her fingers without ever saying a word.

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter four: nonchalant tears

The evening breeze hummed softly through the open patio of the restaurant. Strings of yellow lights hung overhead, twinkling against the navy sky. The table for four was nestled in a quiet corner — just the way Kelly liked it.

Max was slicing into his steak, Kelly delicately twirling her pasta, and Y/N was keeping Penelope distracted with a kids' colouring menu and three broken crayons. Everything was normal. Almost.

“So then,” Penelope chirped, breaking the calm as she leaned across the table to Kelly, “we saw Danny!”

Y/N's fork froze midair.

Max looked up instantly.

“Daniel?” he repeated, eyes darting to his sister. Kelly blinked. “Where baby? Where did you see him?”

Penelope beamed. “At the café! I ran to him and hugged his leg! And he picked me up and spun me and I made him sit with us! Because obviously! and - and - uhhh oh yeah! That's it”

Y/N forced a smile and carefully resumed cutting her grilled chicken. “Yeah. Briefly. We bumped into him by accident.”

Max tilted his head slowly, chewing with a slightly furrowed brow. “You didn’t mention that.”

Y/N shrugged. “Didn’t seem important Maximus.”

Kelly exchanged a quick look with Max before gently setting her fork down. “What was it like? Seeing him again Y/N? I mean last time you guys spoke, needless to say it was messy.”

“It was fine Kel,” Y/N said, tone airlight. She reached for her water. “Bit awkward. Nothing dramatic really.”

Penelope, ever the chaos agent, kicked her legs under the table and added, “They were fighting about the money! Y/N wanted to pay but Danny kept pushing her and she said, ‘Don’t touch me,’ and then she looked sooo mad, and Danny looked so confused—”

“Okay, Penny, that’s enough,” Y/N said, laughing softly but pressing her napkin into her lap a little too firmly.

Max stared at her. “You fought with him?” he asked, his voice calmer than it looked like it cost him. “No,” Y/N said breezily. “It wasn’t a fight. It was just—he offered, I refused. It escalated. It’s fine really.”

Max sat back, chewing on that. Kelly leaned forward slightly. “Y/N… it’s okay to be upset.” “I’m not upset,” she replied too quickly. Kelly didn’t push. But Max did. He gave her a long look, then exhaled and said, “Lieve zusje, don’t do that.”

Y/N blinked, startled by the soft Dutch nickname. “I’m not doing anything Max. I'm fine. Everything is fine.” she said.

“You are,” he said. “You’re pretending again. Like Singapore didn’t rip you up inside.” She didn’t look up. Her heart had stopped, the lump in her throat grew heavier as every second passed.

Max continued, quieter now. “You came to out hotel room that night and cried so hard you couldn’t breathe. And now you're sitting here like he’s some stranger you bumped into on the street.”

“I have to sit here like that, Max,” Y/N finally said, voice low and sharp. “Because I did everything right and it still wasn’t enough. So I’m done trying.”

Kelly reached across the table, gently brushing Y/N’s wrist. “You’re allowed to be hurt, honey. You don’t have to pretend.”

Y/N glanced at her, then back at her plate. She silently grabbed Kelly's hand and took a gentle breath.

Penelope, now fiddling with her lemonade straw, looked up at Max. “Is Danny in trouble Maxie?” “No, schatje,” Max said, tousling her hair gently. “Just… adult stuff.”Y/N let out a breath and forced a smile toward the child. “No trouble. Just old friends figuring things out.”

But Max saw it—the slight tremble in her lip she quickly covered with a sip of water. The tightness in her jaw. He wasn’t fooled. Neither was Kelly.

And across town, Daniel Ricciardo still hadn’t slept.

-

After dinner Y/N made her way back to her room in the hotel. She settled into comfy PJs after a fresh shower. She snapped open her laptop in order to finish more work. The blue glow of Y/N’s laptop screen and the low clatter of her fingers racing across the keyboard was the current sight.

Draft plans, vendor emails, interior lighting revisions—she welcomed every bit of it like armour, like distraction. Anything but stillness. Stillness let her think. And thinking? Thinking meant feeling.

She hadn’t so much as blinked since she got back from the café earlier that day. A small Post-it on her screen read in her handwriting: “You’re too busy to bleed.” She meant it.

A sigh slipped out as she closed one PDF and opened another. Her phone buzzed from somewhere under her desk clutter, but she didn’t bother checking. Probably another logistics update. Or Penelope’s sixth FaceTime attempt to show her a lizard she’d found in the hotel hallway.

But then her laptop began glitching—not technically, but emotionally.

The screen dimmed slightly as her iPhone buzzed again—this time in that soft, sentimental Photos tone. Curious and half distracted, Y/N reached for it.

A Memory had generated. The title appeared in cursive at the top of her screen. “Danny Boy Since 2016.” Her heart stopped. Then twisted. What the actual fuck.

The screen filled with a collage of blurred candids, laughing selfies, pit lane snaps, blurry 3 a.m. diners, a video of her screaming at him for nearly crashing a scooter in Monaco, a clip of him throwing popcorn at her on a couch during a horror movie. A photo of him and Max dozing off on her old apartment floor. A slow-mo of him catching her when she’d run at him in celebration after some pointless simulator win.

God. Her chest caved in.

It hurt. It hurt so much she thought her heart was collapsing.

She blinked fast, shaking her head like it would make the pain spill out through her ears. The moment she saw the photo options, she panicked. Needed to get rid of it. Bury it under trash or text messages or literally anything else. She swiped, hit the share icon, and before her brain could keep up with her thumbs, she selected the first contact that popped up:

Kelly. She assumed. Typing out a quick "what the fuck is in the air today? look what my phone did kel."

Hit send.

The moment it flew off, she gasped—realizing the name wasn’t Kelly.

It was Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.

No. No no no no— FUCK NO PLEASE NO.

“Oh, my god.” she whispered, shooting up from her bed, nearly knocking over a half-drunk tea

She opened the message.

The entire memory. Sent. Not to Kelly. But to the guy who ripped her heart out.

Just a digital coffin of everything she'd been trying to outrun. She froze, eyes wide, thumb hovering over the unsend option—

Too late. Sent turned into Read and that turned into the typing bubble.

And then:

Daniel Ricciardo: “Guess u missed me after all, hun?”

Then another.

Daniel Ricciardo: “Y/N. Pls respond. We need to talk.”

Her phone nearly slipped from her grip.

“Fucking hell.” she gasped, shock clinging to her features as she tried to make sense of what just happened.

Her breathing became shallow. The room was spinning. Her carefully compartmentalized world was cracking at the edges.

Her phone buzzed again.

Daniel Ricciardo is typing…

Y/N hit airplane mode. Instantly. Threw the phone onto the couch like it had just lit on fire.

“No. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. Not tonight.” Her voice trembled but her tone was steel.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, chest rising and falling too fast. She sat back down, trying to pull up the project specs again—but all she could see was his grin. His hand in hers. His damn laugh.

And her name in his mouth.

"Y/N. Please respond." is the only thing in her mind,

She slammed the laptop shut.

But the silence was worse.

taglist : @cheer-bear-go-vroom , @britenysbitch @yllomhej @stuffyownswrld @princessria127 @easy4 @gluecksbaerchieee @percysaidnever @sltwins @sainz0fthetimes @landofotographyy @hashcakes @mskate105 @formula1girly81 @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @marijas-stuff @mayax2o07 @stylesmoonlight12

[its-avalon-08]

🏁 pairing : Daniel Riccardo x Verstappen!Sister!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏎️ summary: he was the honey badger with a grin that could silence storms, and she was max verstappen’s little sister—always there, always watching, never saying too much. they’d spent years orbiting each other, but after singapore'24 when daniel quietly stepped away from formula 1, everything shattered. now she’s left wondering if he was ever just a friend or the great love she let slip through her fingers without ever saying a word.

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter three: loose change and fights

As Y/N walked out she realised she hadn't payed. She cursed slightly under her breath and went back in with P. The door jingled as she pushed it open, the sound slicing clean through the thick air Daniel was still trying to breathe in.

He looked up from his untouched coffee, and there she was—again—marching back into the café with purpose in her step and annoyance written all over her face.

“Oh,” he said, standing halfway. “Forget something?”

Y/N didn’t look at him. “I forgot to pay for the drinks.” Her curt tone there Daniel off. Daniel blinked, confused. “It’s fine. I got it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I was going to.”

“Well, now I am.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

She was already pulling out her card. “Yes. Seriously.”

He stepped closer, placing a hand gently—but firmly—on her arm to stop her. “Y/N. Let it go. I’ve got it.”

She yanked her arm out of his grip like it burned. “Don’t touch me.” Daniel's eyes betrayed him. He was hurt, hurt that she acted like he had burnt her. Hurt that she pretended not to know him.

His mouth opened in surprise, and then—like some invisible switch flipped—she gave him that same freezing smile again. “Sorry. I don’t like being pushed around Daniel.”

“It wasn’t a push. It was—” He exhaled sharply. “—I was just trying to pay for a coffee, not restart World War III. God just calm down.”

“Well, maybe I’m trying to avoid owing you anything,” she snapped, stepping around him toward the counter. Daniel followed. “Owing me? You don’t owe me anything.”

“Exactly.” She tossed her card on the counter. “So let me pay for my own drink.” The barista awkwardly took her card as Daniel stared at her like she’d just slapped him.

“You’re seriously making a scene over this Y/N? Infront of P?” Penelope was sitting silently watching the strange Cold War that was going on with wide eyes.

Y/N snorted, leaning on the counter with a disinterested look. “This? Oh, please. If I were making a scene, everyone in this café would be ducking for cover.”

Daniel crossed his arms, jaw tight. “You know what I don’t get? You act like I’m the one who walked away like nothing happened. But you’re the one pretending this—” he gestured between them, “—never even existed.”

She turned, expression blank. “Maybe it didn’t.” That hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Oh, come on, Y/N.”

“No, really,” she said, folding her arms. “Don’t look so offended. You made it very clear what you thought of me that night in Singapore. Don’t be shocked I took it at face value.”

“I didn’t mean half the things I said that night.”

“But you said them.”

“And you—what? Just shut off after that? Like I was nothing?”

“You made me nothing!” she snapped, her voice low but shaking. “You said I wouldn’t understand, that I didn’t get it—”

“Because I was angry! I was fucking broken!”

“And I was trying to help you! You! My brother had won and I stayed back. For you.”

They both fell silent. The barista awkwardly slid the receipt across the counter. Y/N took it without another word. Daniel ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath.

“You really haven’t forgiven me,” he said quietly.

Y/N looked at him with the same cold, collected expression that had been driving him mad since this morning.

“I don’t have time to forgive people who don’t even know what they’re sorry for.”

And with that, she turned, walking out of the café a second time—this time not stopping, not looking back.

Daniel stayed rooted to the floor, fists clenched, frustration buzzing under his skin like a trapped hornet.

He hadn’t forgotten. He just didn’t know how to start saying any of it.

And the worst part was… She genuinely believed he didn’t care.

-

Daniel sat alone that night in his Melbourne flat, the city lights a blur outside the wide windows, the sound of traffic muffled by thick glass. But nothing could muffle the storm in his head. The image of Y/N yanking her arm back was burned into him mind.

He leaned back on the couch, one arm flung over his eyes, the other hanging limp at his side, fingers twitching as if they could still reach for something long gone.

He hadn’t been able to get her face out of his mind since she walked out of that café.

Not the way she looked at him—because she hadn’t, not really. Not once had she looked at him like she used to. No warmth. No humor. No flicker of that old quiet affection in her eyes.

Just cold, clipped indifference. And it terrified him.

She’s furious. No—worse. She’s done.

He’d thought it would sting a little, sure. He expected awkwardness, some polite small talk and maybe one of her trademark dry remarks to remind him she hadn’t completely forgiven him.

But this?

This stone-faced silence? This… weaponized grace?

He hadn’t been ready for that.

He rubbed his hands over his face. His heart was racing, uneven. His head pounding. The memory of Singapore came back, blurry and distorted.

In his mind, it had always played out the same:

Y/N, standing under the city lights, trying to give him advice, like she understood what it was like to fail over and over again. Like she knew what it was like to be the joke of the grid. Telling him—suggesting—he join Cadillac in 2026.

He remembered the twist of something inside him. The embarrassment. The shame.

Oh, to fail again? To come in last next to the mighty Max?

That line. He remembered the words like acid in his mouth.

He remembered the fire. The way it built up in his chest. And the look on her face when he said it— Wait.

He sat up slowly, heart now drumming for a different reason.

He hadn’t let her finish, had he?

She was saying something else. He’d cut her off. She had tried to explain. There was this tiny, choked sound she made just before he walked away.

She wasn’t attacking him. She was fucking reaching out. She just wanted to be there for her friend and Daniel had ruined it. He had belittled her and made her feel stupid all because he was hurting.

His chest ached suddenly, sharply.

He remembered now—how her voice had trembled. How she’d stood there, arms at her sides, not fighting back. How she didn’t scream. Didn’t argue. Just stood frozen, like someone who’d been hit across the face with something invisible.

And then… she was gone. God.

He exhaled shakily, raking both hands through his hair. He stared at the floor, blinking rapidly as fragments started stitching themselves together in painful clarity.

The moments before that fight, before he blew it:

Her laugh echoing down the Red Bull garage halls during a rain delay.

That time in Monza when she’d tucked a note into his bag: You’re more than they remember. Don’t forget it.

The nights he couldn’t sleep after a bad quali, and she’d text him a link to some stupid cat video just to make him smile.

The time he cried—in Monaco, after another DNF—and she sat beside him and didn’t say a word. Just held his hand until the shaking stopped.

He hadn’t just lost her forgiveness.

He’d lost all of it. Every quiet gesture. Every soft joke. Every unspoken thing they never got to say.

And for what?

Because his ego couldn’t handle the idea of her believing in him when he didn’t believe in himself?

“Fucking hell,” he whispered to the empty room, voice rough and low.

He stood up and paced, fists curling at his sides. His mind was screaming at him to do something. Apologize. Call her. Fix it.

But every time he imagined her voice on the other end of the line—calm, polite, and distant—it made him flinch.

He didn’t even know how to start.

And more than anything, he wasn't sure she'd want him to.

taglist : @cheer-bear-go-vroom , @britenysbitch @yllomhej @stuffyownswrld @princessria127 @easy4 @gluecksbaerchieee @percysaidnever @sltwins @sainz0fthetimes @landofotographyy @hashcakes @mskate105 @formula1girly81 @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @marijas-stuff @mayax2o07 @stylesmoonlight12

[its-avalon-08]

🏁 pairing : Daniel Riccardo x Verstappen!Sister!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏎️ summary: he was the honey badger with a grin that could silence storms, and she was max verstappen’s little sister—always there, always watching, never saying too much. they’d spent years orbiting each other, but after singapore'24 when daniel quietly stepped away from formula 1, everything shattered. now she’s left wondering if he was ever just a friend or the great love she let slip through her fingers without ever saying a word.

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 2: the paths we take

Early 2025

Y/N in Monaco

The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of her keyboard echoed through the clean, open-plan workspace of TerraData Solutions—a green tech company pioneering systems for sustainable city modeling. Y/N sat with a straight back, her dual monitors glowing with charts, CO2 metrics, and client data dashboards. (guys sorry I dont know alot of technical terms so this is what came up when I googled tech terms) Her calendar was packed, her inbox relentlessly full, and her deadlines always inching closer. H

But she preferred it that way. Busy meant she didn’t have time to think. To feel. She drowned herself in her new life, a life without a certain curly haired Australian. It had been months since that night in Singapore.

Months since Daniel looked her in the eyes and tore down everything she’d believed about him—with one cruel, furious flick of his words. And not once—not for a second—had she looked back.

She had never unfollowed him on Instagram. That would be obvious. Too harsh. Too real. But she never watched his stories. Never clicked on his name. Never let the algorithm win. His posts would pop up, all showing the crazy things he had been up to, but not once did she click that little red heart.

His contact was still in her phone, hidden deep in a folder labeled "old numbers", but even the idea of clicking it made her chest clench.

She poured herself into work—data presentations for city councils, testing their waste management model in Copenhagen, keynote prep for the GreenTech Forward summit in Zurich. Y/N Verstappen was moving forward. Professionally. Quietly. Without him. She didn't need him.

Still, on nights when the streetlights flickered outside her flat window and the hum of city life faded, she would sit on her couch and scroll through Instagram—thumb hovering just for a second too long over a mutual friend’s photo. If Daniel was tagged, she scrolled faster.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

That was her only rule. That was the only way to survive.

Meanwhile Daniel in Sydney

The air up here was cold and thin. It sliced right through him—cleaner than any adrenaline rush from the grid ever had.

Daniel stood on the edge of a bungee platform suspended above a canyon, arms outstretched as the wind whipped at his navy blue hoodie. A GoPro was strapped to his chest, capturing every moment for his memory vlog.

He jumped. And for a moment, he felt everything and nothing all at once. The honey badger's classic laugh echoed through the serene space, making everyone who heard it smile. He was happy. He was truly happy.

It wasn’t that he hated life after Formula One. It had its perks: freedom, sleep, food without a calorie tracker so he could eat all the cheeseburgers he wanted , and thrill-seeking adventures he couldn’t even think about while under contract.

Skydiving in Dubai. Wingsuiting in Norway. Dirt biking through remote Australian deserts. Surfing monstrous waves in Maui.

He was living. At least, that’s what the world thought.

But when the rush wore off and the cameras stopped rolling, Daniel found himself doing something far less thrilling.

Checking her Instagram. It wasn't like he missed her (he did but he was in so much denial).

Late at night, after his friends fell asleep. Quiet moments in airport lounges. Even once, standing in the middle of a Patagonia glacier.

Search: @ynverstappen (Still following you)

Her grid was filled with aesthetic posts—clips of her presenting climate models, photos from Berlin with her coworkers, one grainy carousel from a boat day that made his stomach twist. Not a single post he could like without looking desperate. And God, she still followed him back.

Daniel never sent a text. Never left a DM. Never clicked that call button. But he always looked. And hated himself for it.

Y/N: She stared at a presentation slide titled “Sustainable Living by 2030”, chewing the inside of her cheek. Her colleagues praised her for her talent and skill. She smiled and laughed along with them.

Daniel: He was laughing at his family's farmhouse as his friends and him drove dirt bikes. He was having the time of his life.

Y/N: In Zurich, she delivered her keynote flawlessly. A standing ovation. She thanked the crowd, smiled politely, and quietly slipped away into the dressing room… where she sat alone for fifteen minutes and stared at the floor. She was thriving but why did she feel empty?

Daniel: At 2:17 a.m. in his Queenstown lodge, he watched her newest reel—some shot of her sipping matcha in Amsterdam, laughing at something off-camera. He hovered over the heart. Didn’t press it. Just locked his phone and stared at the ceiling.

Two people. Worlds apart. One walking forward as if nothing broke her. The other pretending he hadn’t been the one to break her in the first place.

And neither of them knew how to find the way back.

-

fast forward to first race of 2025 in Melbourne

The streets of Melbourne were warm and golden, casting a glow over the quiet laneway cafés that had already begun to fill up with fans and team personnel for the start of the 2025 Formula One season.

The weekend buzzed with energy, the streets adorned with posters of this year's contenders—Oscar Piastri's face on every other billboard, alongside Antonelli, Bearman, and the newest rookies.

Y/N Verstappen, dressed in a white linen shirt and loose denim shorts, was trying to enjoy a peaceful morning before the chaos of the Grand Prix began. She wasn’t working, just here with family—technically on vacation, her heart fluttering ever so often in fear of running into a certain someone since they were on his home turf.

“P, slow down!” she called, laughing softly as the little girl skipped ahead. Max’s stepdaughter, now five and braver than ever, was practically a blur of curls and excitement as she darted into the café ahead of Y/N. She had a babyccino obsession and a habit of naming pigeons she saw on the sidewalks.

“Penelope!” Y/N said again, more firm this time, just as the little girl let out a delighted screech while rushing towards someone's tanned figure.

“DANNYYYY!”

Y/N froze. Her head snapped up.

And there he was.

Daniel Ricciardo, in the flesh, in a loose white t-shirt with a cherry cola graphic and shorts, holding a takeaway coffee and blinking in pure surprise as a small human missile launched herself at his legs.

“P?!” Daniel exclaimed, beaming as he bent down to scoop her up in one fluid motion, laughing. “What the heck are you doing here, little monster?!”

He spun her around, making her giggle wildly, his voice coated with warmth—the same warmth that once made Y/N’s stomach flutter. Now it made her freeze.

She took a breath. Straightened her shoulders. And walked forward.

Daniel's grin almost left his face as his eyes found hers.

Y/N.

His heart did something stupid in his chest. But her expression didn’t change. Cool. Calm. Unshaken.

“Hi,” she said with a small, polite smile. “Didn’t think we’d see you here.”

Daniel cleared his throat, still holding Penelope. “Yeah, I—uh, I’ve been in town a few days. Thought I’d spend time with my family, hang with some mates.”

“Right,” she said smoothly, her voice a glacier. “Of course. How very fun.” Her eyes were cold, her posture distant.

He felt the iciness instantly, and it was like someone had flipped a switch in his head. This was the first time he was seeing her since that night in Singapore.

And she was acting like they’d never even fought. Like he was just some distant friend she hadn’t caught up with in a while.

It freaked him out more than if she’d screamed at him. Her indifference stung him.

“Bubba, look!” Penelope giggled, still clinging to Daniel’s neck. “Danny’s here! He’s back!”

“Looks like it,” Y/N replied, smiling at Penelope but not even sparing Daniel another glance.

Penelope reached out, still half in Daniel’s arms, and grabbed Y/N’s wrist. “Come, sit with us! Please Danny!!!”

“Oh—uh…” Daniel hesitated, glancing at Y/N.

She just raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Why not?”

They sat at a small outdoor table, Penelope nestled between them like a tiny chaos agent sent by the gods of awkward reunions. Y/N sipped her iced latte. Daniel nursed his black coffee. Their knees brushed under the table once when Penelope kicked her legs.

“Where have you been, Danny?” Penelope asked, swinging her legs back and forth. “You weren’t in any of the races last time.”

“I’ve been… around,” he said, his eyes flicking to Y/N before quickly looking away. “Doing some cool stuff. Traveling. Trying not to break bones.”

Penelope gasped. “Did you break a bone?!”

“No,” he laughed, “but I almost did. Jumped off a cliff in Norway.”

Y/N didn’t react. Not even a raised eyebrow. Y/N was simply smiling at P and her happy face.

Penelope looked between them, frowning slightly. “Bubba are you okay? Why aren't you two talking?”

Daniel choked on his coffee.

Y/N tilted her head and smiled sweetly at the little girl. “Aw my darling. Daniel and I are perfectly fine.”

Daniel felt her words like a slap. They were fine? Fine? She was acting like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t shattered her trust, broken whatever fragile thing they had with that night in Singapore.

Penelope scrunched her nose. “You’re both being sooooo weird.”

“I think you’re just imagining things,” Y/N said, brushing a curl out of Penelope’s face. “Danny’s just nervous. Maybe he's just too excited to meet u you again.”

Daniel blinked. “Oh- I'm not nervous.”

Y/N’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Relax, Daniel. No one’s asking you to stay.”

He swallowed hard. “Didn’t say I wasn’t staying.”

“Didn’t say you were welcome, either,” she said under her breath, so softly Penelope wouldn’t hear—but Daniel did.

Penelope looked between them again, sighing. “Adults are so annoying.”

Daniel let out a tight laugh. “Tell me about it.”

A silence fell, awkward and dense. Daniel tapped his fingers on his cup. Y/N checked her phone. Penelope licked the foam off her babyccino mustache.

Y/N stood abruptly. “Alright, little bean. Let’s get going. Max will be wondering where we are.”

Penelope pouted. “Can’t Danny come?”

Y/N paused, then looked at Daniel—expression unreadable.

“Maybe some other time schat,” she said simply, and turned, holding Penelope’s hand.

Daniel watched her walk away, a cold wind suddenly much stronger than the Melbourne breeze slicing through him. He hadn’t expected her to cry. Or shout. But this?This careful, polished indifference?

It terrified him. And he couldn’t stop watching her go.

taglist : @cheer-bear-go-vroom , @britenysbitch @yllomhej @stuffyownswrld @princessria127 @easy4 @gluecksbaerchieee @percysaidnever @sltwins @sainz0fthetimes @landofotographyy @hashcakes @mskate105 @formula1girly81 @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @marijas-stuff @mayax2o07

[its-avalon-08]

🏁 pairing : Daniel Riccardo x Verstappen!Sister!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏎️ summary: he was the honey badger with a grin that could silence storms, and she was max verstappen’s little sister—always there, always watching, never saying too much. they’d spent years orbiting each other, but after singapore'24 when daniel quietly stepped away from formula 1, everything shattered. now she’s left wondering if he was ever just a friend or the great love she let slip through her fingers without ever saying a word.

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 1 : broken apart

It wasn't a good day. The usual media circus felt the tension in the air. One of the big names in formula one was stepping down, rather being told to step down. His usual smile dimmed and eyes watery, Daniel's presence was overwhelming in every knook and cranny of the paddock. The engines were silent and the mechanics were packing up their tools. The air, humid and thick with the scent of burnt rubber and street-side grease, clung to the quiet of Marina Bay like a secret unsaid.

He stood alone on the pit straight, hands in his pockets, shoulders heavy. The grandstands were empty, the paddock thinning out as memories flooded his mind. His first win, his many many podiums, his crash with Max, his team changes and finally his last day.

This wasn’t how he imagined it. No announcement. No send-off. Just… silence. He wasn't even technically retiring, not officially. But he knew. This was it.

And then her footsteps broke the quiet.

Soft, familiar. What was usually comforting, made Daniel feel upset today. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want sympathy from the golden boy's sister.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Y/N Verstappen said, offering him a small smile as she approached, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She wore a Red Bull hoodie, probably Max’s, slightly too big. Her eyes, always quieter than her brother’s fire, held something gentler. Concern. Maybe hope.

Daniel gave her a slow glance, smile barely twitching at the corners. “Don’t you have some champagne to drink with your champion of a brother?” Y/N tilted her head. “He went back to the hotel. I didn’t feel like celebrating. I wanted to be with you for now.”

That made Daniel pause, just a flicker. “Didn’t win anything.”

“You don’t have to win to be proud of someone Dan.”

His jaw clenched slightly, gaze drifting back toward the empty track. “Mm.” He loved Max, he really did. More than any other teammate but right now all he could think about was how Daniel ruined his own career due his jealousy towards Max.

They stood there in the silence for a beat. It was peaceful, in a strange way. Like the calm before a storm they hadn’t forecast.

“I used to love this place,” he said finally. “Singapore. The lights. The chaos. I always felt like I could breathe here but now I'm suffocating.”

Y/N stepped beside him, close but not too close. “It still loves you, you know. F1 does. Even if it doesn’t show it right now.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Right. F1 and I—real healthy fucking relationship.”

She bit her lip and winced a bit at his harsh tone. “You don’t have to disappear completely, Dan. You could still be around. Join Cadillac in 2026 maybe, stay part of the scene—”

And that was it. The flicker snapped. His anger bubbling over the edge. His eyes were sharp and there was no love in them. Just anger and hurt.

“Oh, sure. Join a brand-new team with zero chance. Maybe get a P18 while Max laps me twice?” His tone wasn’t loud. But it cut.

Y/N blinked, stunned at his tone. “That’s not—”

“You think I want to hang around just to remind myself what I used to be?” he continued, voice sharp now, brittle like glass about to crack. “To sit in hospitality and wave while Max and Lando rack up win after win and I try to act like I’m just happy to be there?”

She tried again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Of course you didn’t,” he snapped, finally looking at her, eyes burning—not with tears, not with softness. Just… tired rage. “You’re always the sweet one, huh? The quiet Verstappen. Never says the wrong fucking thing.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “Dan—”

“You don’t get it. You’ll never get it. You were born into this. I had to fight for every second. And for what? To be chewed up, spat out, and offered a pity seat on a future maybe?”

He shook his head. “I’m done.”

She stepped forward. “You don’t mean that. You’re just and—”

“Don’t,” he said, voice dropping low. Cold. “Don’t try to make this into something it’s not.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her hands shaking now. “Why are you being like this?”

“Because I’m finally being honest.”

And then—without another word, without a glance—he turned and walked away.

No goodbye. No “take care.” Just his figure disappearing down the pit lane, swallowed by shadows and silence. His shoulders shaking slightly.

And Y/N stood there, alone under the night sky, wondering if that was all they’d ever be. A nearly. A could’ve been. A goodbye she never got to give and a heart that was shattered.

--

She stood alone in the paddock for a few more seconds after Daniel left, her heart racing, a lump choking her throat. Her chest hurt—so much it felt like it was caving in on itself. It was hard to breathe, hard to think. The silence around her only amplified the pain, made everything sharper, more real. She tried, so hard, to hold it together, to swallow it all down, but the tears just wouldn’t stay hidden.

She pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Kelly’s number. The call went through, and after a few rings, Kelly’s soft voice answered. “Y/N? Bebe? What’s up?”

“I—uh…” Y/N sniffled, biting her lip to try and stop herself from breaking completely. “Can I meet you and Max? Just… for a few minutes? I really need to see you both.”

“Of course. Come to our room,” Kelly said, the concern immediately in her voice. “Are you okay?”

“I just… need to talk Kel,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper, cracking with emotion. The man she used to spend so much of her time with had just thrown away their friendship as though it meant nothing.

She ended the call, and within minutes of a car ride, she was walking down the hall of the hotel, her vision blurred with the constant threat of tears. As she arrived at the door, she knocked softly, too exhausted to pretend she was fine. The door opened, and Max stood there, eyebrows furrowed in that all-too-familiar look of concern. He stepped back when he saw her face, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Liefje? What’s wrong?” Max asked, his voice low, steady, but filled with worry. His sister barely ever cried. Behind him, Kelly sat on the bed, her hand gently resting on her baby bump. Five-year-old Penelope was tugging at her mother’s hand, curious.

“Bubba, what’s wrong?” Penelope’s innocent voice cut through the air, and Y/N lost it. Penelope rushed to Y/N trying to wipe away her tears and planting small innocent kisses on her cheek.

In a split second, Y/N was sobbing. She crumpled to the floor, leaning against P's small frame as her emotions broke free. She couldn’t hold back anymore—the dam had burst. She hadn’t cried like this in years. Not since Max's Silverstone crash in 2021.

Max was immediately by her side, crouching down, his arm around her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. He had always been the strong one, but seeing his little sister—his baby sister—so broken, something inside him snapped. His voice was tight with anger, a rare sight for anyone who knew Max’s usually controlled demeanor.

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you liefje?” His words came out low, fierce. He wasn’t just upset for her—he was furious. And the weight of that question made Y/N break even further.

“It was Daniel…,” Y/N gasped through her sobs, her chest shaking. “He—he said horrible things Max. He’s leaving, and I—I just wanted to help. I thought I could help him, but—he—he’s so angry. And he just walked away and threw away out friendship.”

Max’s jaw clenched at the mention of Daniel’s name. “What did he say to you, Y/N? What happened?”

Y/N’s voice trembled with the weight of the words she could barely force out. “He—he said… I didn’t get it. That I was just some Verstappen, that I didn’t understand what it was like… that I wasn’t—enough.” Max’s eyes darkened. “He said that to you?”

“Yes!” Y/N choked out. “He… he called me naive, like I didn’t know what it’s like to fight for something that’s just—taken away. Like I wasn’t good enough to… to care about him. And—and I tried to explain, but he was just… so mad. And he left. He walked away without a single word. Max, he just left me there. Crying near the pitwall.”

Max’s protective instincts surged, his heart breaking for his sister. He pulled her into his arms, his grip firm as if he could somehow shield her from the pain. The anger inside him burned hot, but he kept it in check—just for her. His voice softened, but there was still an edge to it.

“Y/N, you are more than enough. You’ve always been. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not. You’re my sister, and that means everything.”

Kelly walked beside them, her hand on Y/N’s back, offering silent comfort. “Sweetheart, sometimes people lash out when they’re hurt. But none of that is your fault. You’re strong, and you don’t have to carry this by yourself Bebe.” Y/N sniffled gently leaning against Max again.

Penelope, still clinging to her mother’s hand, looked at Y/N with wide, worried eyes. “Bubba, are you gonna be okay?”

Y/N managed a shaky smile, brushing the tears from her eyes. “I’ll be okay, Pen. Just… need a little time.”

Max stayed by her side, never letting go, never letting her feel like she was alone in this moment. The room fell into a tense silence, but it was a comforting one—full of love, of understanding, of a family that had always fought together, no matter the battle.

Max, his voice thick with emotion, spoke softly as he held her close. “You’re my sister and you are a Verstappen. We are strong and we stick together. And no matter what, no matter who—no one will ever make me forget that.”

Y/N nodded into his chest, grateful, but still broken inside. “I just… don’t know if I can let go of him. Even after everything.”

Max didn’t answer immediately, but his grip tightened. “You don’t have to, Y/N. Not yet. But we'll make sure you’re never alone, no matter what happens.”

And for the first time that night, Y/N allowed herself to cry without the weight of guilt. She had her family—her brother, her sister-in-law, her niece—and that was enough for now. The rest could wait.

taglist : @cheer-bear-go-vroom , @britenysbitch @yllomhej @stuffyownswrld @princessria127 @easy4 @gluecksbaerchieee @percysaidnever

[its-avalon-08]

🍯Daniel Riccardo x Y/N Verstappen🍯

themes : angst, emotional, slight smut in a few chapters, overshadowing, loneliness

he was the honey badger with a smile that lit up the paddock and voice that made hearts melt. she was max verstappen’s little sister—sharp, observant, and always quietly watching him from the shadows of the garage.

when daniel first met y/n during his Red Bull days, they bonded over late-night paddock walks, shared jokes, and the unspoken understanding of living in Max’s world. through team changes, podiums, shoes and heartbreaks, their friendship endured—always steady, never crossing the line.

but everything shifts after the 2024 Singapore Grand Prix—the night daniel says his silent tearful goodbye to formula 1. When y/n finds him under the singapore night sky, hoping to comfort him, her words accidentally reopen old wounds. the two break apart as peers and friends. daniel's hurt overwhelms him and his harsh words dig into y/n's soul.

when they meet again after an year of radio silence, will they wind their way back or will some wounds always remain open?

comment to get added to taglist | updates daily | ten part series

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i miss ur fics girl 😐

i miss writing them babes !!! i can’t even explain how busy things have been !! promise i’ll be back at it soon 😽😽

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me core after Spanish gp 2025 as a max fan :

I stand with my cancelled wife and i'll say it louder for the people in the back

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liam and isack are becoming one of my favourite duos 💞

social media KINGS 👑

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both ferraris being out in Q2 was not on my bucket list 🫣🫣🫣

out qualified by aston martin is crazy, ferrari pls fix ur car

sainz p1 😘

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hey lovelies

have been very very sick for the past two weeks, still super weak and sick, will try and upload soon.

sorry for delay, I promise they're coming out soon.

xoxox

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i have a feeling mad max is back.

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max being on pole give me purpose in life again [saudi arabian gp'25]

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hii are you thinking of writing more of yuki? i love him sm and he's so underrated

yes I am! currently working on requests and a new series !

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📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

🏎️ summary: she’s oscar piastri’s little sister — sarcastic, sharp, and completely uninterested in drivers. he’s lando norris — charming, persistent, and suddenly very interested in her. she came for oscar. she didn’t plan on falling for the one person she should’ve stayed away from.

🏎️ author's note: so this is the end of this series!! I hope you loved it because I enjoyed writing it :)) thank you to everyone who read and supported this series! do comment, like and/or reblog if possible :)) stay tuned for more updates

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter ten: bush spies & butter hearts

“Lando,” Y/N hissed, crouched low behind a bush. “Stop breathing so loud you moron. He’ll hear us!”

“I NEED TO BREATHE, WOMAN—”

“SHHH!”

They were stuffed awkwardly behind a row of shrubs, hidden in the shadows of the candlelit garden. Fairy lights twinkled above, music playing faintly in the background. Just a few feet away, Oscar Piastri stood in front of Lily, holding her hands—his fingers trembling.

Lando leaned close, twigs in his hoodie, grass in his curls. “We could’ve picked literally any better hiding spot than the bushes. There are ANTS on me, Y/N—ANTS.”

“Shut UP,” Y/N whispered. “He’s starting.” Y/N adjusted her phone to record it well.

They both went silent as Oscar dropped to one knee. A quiet gasp echoed from Lily. The world went still.

“Lily,” Oscar began, voice softer than either of them had ever heard it. “You’ve loved me through every version of myself—even the ones that didn’t deserve it.”

Lando blinked. “Oh damn. He’s pulling out the big guns.”

Y/N smiled, teary-eyed.

Oscar continued, “You stayed. Even when I was cold. When I got mad at you for small things. When I tried to be strong instead of honest. You stayed.”

He took a deep breath.

“You’ve been the light in the hardest days, the laugh in my quietest ones. You’ve been my home.”

Y/N’s throat tightened.

“And I know I have faults, I'm not good at saying everything I feel, I shut down when I'm upset, I get overprotective—”

Y/N SNORTED.

“—But seeing you calm me down, see right from wrong. I finally understood. You’re my person.” Oscar has tears in his eyes

Lando turned to Y/N, grinning. “Is Oscar crying because if he is I am so making a sticker out of his crying face. ”

“SHUT UP,” she whispered.

“Lily Zneimer,” Oscar said, eyes glistening, “Will you marry me?”

Lily burst into tears. “Yes! Yes, yes—of course, yes!”

The small group of friends and family cheered, erupting in applause. Y/N and Lando bolted out from behind the bushes like two excited squirrels.

Lily gawked. “Were you two… in the bush? Lando you hate bugs!"

“Yes,” Y/N said proudly. “We were emotionally invested bush spies.”

-

Later that night, the garden glowed under soft lanterns and champagne bubbles. Music played as couples swayed across the dance floor. Y/N stood near the edge, sipping a drink, when Lando found her.

He held out a hand. “May I have this dance, milady?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, sliding her hand into his. “You’re such a dork.”

“And yet, somehow, you love me.”

“More than anyone ever has.”

They swayed together, forehead to forehead, the world falling away.

“You’re still the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she murmured.

“You still talk in your sleep.”

“You still leave your shoes everywhere.”

“You still steal my hoodies.”

“You love it,” she said.

“I do,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I love you.”

She looked up, glowing under the lights. “I remember that day in the garage. When you kissed my forehead and I almost passed out.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your forehead that day,” he smirked.

“Lando!”

“KIDDING—kind of.”

She rolled her eyes again but smiled, leaning into him. “This has been the best year of my life.”

“And you’ve been the best part of mine,” Lando said softly. “Even more than winning.”

“Wow. That’s big.”

“It’s true.”

He kissed her cheek. “I think we’re forever now.”

“We always were.”

-

At the engagement dinner the next week, Oscar raised a glass.

“To love,” he said. “The real kind. The kind that forgives. That protects. That grows. The kind that hides in bushes to support your proposal and then makes fun of you for crying.”

Laughter rippled around the room.

He looked at Y/N and Lando, his voice turning soft. “And to the people who prove me wrong—in the best way possible.”

Y/N smiled, heart full.

Lando winked at Oscar.

-

Months later. Y/N sat in the McLaren garage, watching her boyfriend win another Grand Prix. She was running a research department now. She had her dream job, her dream man, her family intact.

And beside her, Lando pulled her into his lap, whispering, “Race win kisses, please.”

“Only because you’re cute.”

He kissed her nose. “You love me.”

“I do, you moron.”

"I made you mine baby" Lando whispered.

Forever.

And ever.

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