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dannyriccsystem · 24 days ago

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UP ALL NIGHT THINKIN’ OF YOU!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: Boyfriends reacting to you being unable to sleep :)

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

WARNINGS: Fluff! That’s it

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, KA12, CL16, AA23, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81, OB87

NOTE: Hi guys!! Just a few more days and I am free from online school yay :) Updates will quicken soon. Sorry ☺️

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

You could hear Max quietly playing out on the sim as you tossed and turned in bed. This is how it was almost every night, and it never bothered you. Which is why you knew something was off about tonight. Many of times you had fallen asleep to the occasional sound of cursing, and the distant sound of an engine. It became relaxing after awhile.

But tonight you just couldn’t seem to sleep. No matter how hard you tried. You rolled over onto your side, staring out at the taunting moon that seemed to laugh in your face. You grumbled, flipping over to bury your head in the pillow. This was a cruel joke— You had things to do tomorrow!

You finally heard the house go silent, and a few moments later your bedroom door creaked open. You turned your head and Max, who suddenly realized he didn’t need to be quiet anymore, straightened up like he had been caught red handed. He looked at the digital clock on your side of the bed, the bright neon red numbers teasingly showing off.

“What are you doing awake?” He asked as he climbed into bed beside you, kissing your forehead tenderly. “It’s nearly two— Did I keep you up?” He pulled at a blanket, letting himself settle in beside you. You wasted no time shuffling over, resting your head on his chest. Max combed his fingers over your scalp, his eyelids droopy. So unfair.

“No,” You replied softly. You shut your eyes, breathing in his scent. He smelt faintly like RedBull, which… Admittedly was becoming a comfort for you, embarrassing as that is. “I just can’t seem to sleep.” As you relaxed against him, you felt yourself start to feel lighter. Your brows relaxed, and your arms went limp.

“Falling asleep already?” He teased, shutting his eyes with you. You nodded weakly, and Max laughed. “Looks like you just needed some love…”

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

Daniel was sleeping on the couch.

You guys had a petty little argument, and he decided to sleep on the couch just to let things pass on their own. Plus, he had to get up early, so it seemed fair anyway. The problem? You couldn’t sleep without him. This happened every-time he went away, which is why— and this is bad to admit— you were somewhat glad he retired so you wouldn’t have anymore sleepless nights.

So, with your pride long forgotten, you grabbed a small blanket and carefully scurried out into the living room. You could see Danny, fast asleep on the couch, lit up by the tv screen, which was on mute as it played some old-fashioned game show. Must have come on after whatever he was initially watching.

You carefully sat yourself on the edge, staring at his soft face. So peaceful compared to the anger he had expressed early. You felt ridiculous now— such a petty argument. Danny stirred, and you flinched when his eyes slowly opened. He gazed at you groggily, his lips forming a sleepy pout.

“What are you doing?” He whispered quietly, one hand on your waist. You couldn’t get a word out before he pulled you down, holding you close to his chest. “Couldn’t sleep, pretty?”

“No…” You buried your face in his bare chest, your arms encircling his waist. Danny yawned before nuzzling a cheek against your scalp. “I’m sorry for earlier, Danny. I just can’t sleep without you.”

His lips lazily kissed your scalp, and you giggled when he unintentionally kissed you right on the eyelid. “Sorry,” He murmured, chuckling with you. “We can talk about it,” Another yawn. “In the morning.”

And with that, you both fell asleep right there on the sofa, much more comfortable together.

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Tonight was yet another sleepless night. There wasn’t any particular reason for it, either. It just happened to be that every now and then there were times when you simply couldn’t bring yourself to drift off into dreamland. For now you slowly clambered out of your comforting mattress, wandering your way into the kitchen.

Lando continued snoring peacefully when you pried out of his arms. You replaced your own body with a large pillow, which he seemed to cozy up to just fine. You kept mental note of that just in case you needed blackmail in the future.

You opened the fridge, the dim light illuminating the kitchen. You rubbed your groggy eyes, grabbing a cup from one of the nearby cabinets to fill with cold water. You grumbled at the annoyingly loud noise of ice clinking against the class. You held your breath, listening for any movement. When you heard nothing, you decided you were in the clear and continued to fill it with water.

Except, a moment later you shrieked, nearly dropping your cup, when you felt arms wrap around your waist. You relaxed when you heard a soft laugh from Lando, who squeezed you close. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head and setting the glass down on the counter. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” He murmured. “Why’d you get up?”

“Can’t sleep…”

“Wanna watch a movie and make out?” He teased, kissing your jawline. You giggled, lightly pushing him away.

“Yeah, sure. But we all know you’re gonna fall asleep immediately.”

“Alright, fine. We can save the kissing for later.”

—

KIMI ANTONELLI - KA12

Kimi was out racing again. All while you were stuck at home, unable to sleep. It was about 3am by now and you were only becoming more and more frustrated as time went on. You finally gave up when you rolled over to grab your phone, selecting the facetime option on your boyfriend’s contact.

He answered within two rings, his delighted face lighting up your screen. You squinted, turning the brightness down immediately. “Y/N, why are you awake? Isn’t it like 5am over there?” You giggle and shake your head. You’re barely visible to him, buried in a room of darkness with your face pressed against pillows and blankets.

“No…” You look at the clock on your phone and frown. “It’s 3am.” He audibly gasped, a hand on his heart. “I know, I know. I just can’t sleep…”

“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?” Kimi smiled wide, finding himself so funny. You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of sleep start to drift over you.

“Tell me about your day,” You decided that would be good enough.

He lit up, and began to ramble. With every word, you fell deeper and deeper into slumber. Kimi realized when you eventually dropped the phone, and he could distantly hear snoring on the other end. He laughed, deciding to hang up and let you get your well deserved rest.

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

You had been unable to sleep all night, and it was incredibly frustrating. It was about 1am when you felt Charles get up beside you, trudging his way out of the bedroom with heavy steps. You watched carefully, and then relaxed against the mattress. He was probably going to the bathroom or getting water— That’s what you told yourself to believe. But about five minutes later you could hear the soft melody of the piano, and you perked up.

After another moment or two, you slowly climbed out of bed and made your way to the living room where a large grand piano sat. He had his back to you, so you watched your boyfriend flinch when you sat yourself beside him. He smiled softly, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Did I wake you?” He asked, his heavy accent carrying his voice into the moonlit night.

You shook your head, resting it against his shoulder. “No, I just haven’t been able to sleep.” You closed your eyes, and Charles regarded you with a smile for a few more seconds. “Will you keep playing?”

The music was soothing. His fingers danced diligently across the keys, the soft tune lifting off into your ears, slowly filling the night air with a beautiful sound. You hummed along under your breath until eventually your voice faded off altogether. Charles felt his smile widen when your body slumped against his.

He continued playing until he was certain you were fast asleep. He then carefully scooped you up, carrying you back to bed in your newfound dream-like state. He kept a mental note for the future that the piano helped you sleep.

—

ALEX ALBON - AA23

Alex was used to your sleepless nights. He liked to stay awake with you so that you wouldn’t feel alone in such dire times— Like tonight, he had kept you cuddled up to him for the entirety. He was waiting to hear your soft snores, but unlike most nights, you seemed eternally restless.

“Still can’t sleep?” He whispered, sighing when you shook your head. Alex seemed to pause to think for a moment, and then eventually suggested, “Do you want to go for a drive?”

This idea was new. You guys had never tried such a thing before, and it seemed like a pretty straightforward plan. You thought on it for a moment, and then eventually responded by climbing out of bed to grab a sweatshirt, and slip your shoes on.

The two of you, still clad in pajama sets and fuzzy hoodies, hopped into Alex’s car. You reclined your seat back pretty far, staring through the sunroof at the starry night sky as he drove along the highway. It was practically empty with a few lights from passing cars— the city was still lit up, a few bustling crowds enjoying their final moments out together.

The radio was playing very quietly. The same songs you had been hearing again and again for the past month now were somewhat comforting in your state of uncertainty. Your eyes shut slowly, and the humming engine along with a slow tune on the radio worked in unison to rock you back to sleep. You hummed, trying to yawn to keep yourself awake, but it ultimately failed.

Alex took a little peek at you, chuckling when he realized you were asleep. He pulled into some random parking lot to turn around, driving the two of you back home. Your boyfriends carried you inside so you could both sleep peacefully in each other’s hold, safe from the qualms of a late night.

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Lewis was the master of helping you sleep. He had all the tricks up his sleeve from nightly routines to making you drink warm milk until you were full. The guy was a genius in body health, and it showed. Needless to say, the two of you were well aware of your relationship with sleep.

Tonight he had to stay up to finish up an advertisement graphic for his business. He was on a zoom call with a few people, quietly discussing in the safety of the dining room, far away from any sleeping ears. However, after giving up on sleep, you sat in the living room unnoticed, listening in on the boring conversations.

Eventually you stood up to poke your head in. Lewis froze before he smiled at you, beckoning for you to come closer. He switched his camera off, making up some excuse about the laptop being old and the camera needing a replacement, despite the fact it had never experienced issues in the past. You shuffled yourself into his lap, resting your face in his neck. He smelt heavenly, like pine mixed with a bit of musk. A pleasant musk.

He held you around the waist, rubbing your back with a few kisses to your neck. You giggled at the ticklish sensation, squirming around on his lap. Lewis seemed delighted with your joyful response and continued, until it was time for him to speak again. You pressed your ear to his chest to hear the rumble of his voice in a low whisper. You eventually fell asleep there, satisfied with your care.

He felt bad for disturbing you, so despite how uncomfortable the chair was, Lewis allowed you to stay there the entire night.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

“Y/N?” A groggy voice called out from beside you. You flinched, giving your boyfriend a sheepish expression. He raised a brow, leaning over to pull the cord on the lamp, lighting up the room. Carlos had a head of messy bed-hair, and his eyes were droopy from sleep. The man propped himself up on one elbow, running a hand through his soft locks. “Why are you awake?”

It appeared as if you had woken him up from his slumber by restlessly tossing and turning. You cleared your throat, shrugging your shoulders lighting as you sat up. He glanced up at you, lips drawn into a gentle frown that made your heart ache. Even over trivial matters as such, Carlos was always looking out for you.

“I just can’t sleep,” You finally responded with a softspoken tone. Carlos shifted up, his back pressed against the headboard. He gestured to his lap, which you carefully lowered your head to. He traced soft circles along your shoulder and the hairline on the side of your face, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. “Tell me about your day,” You insisted.

He hummed in thought. Not a lot happened, but he’s scrape the bottom of the barrel for anything interesting. “I saw a cute old couple at the store.” When he finally started to speak, you relaxed. You shut your eyes, lips twisting into a smile. “Really old, but still healthy and in shape. He held the door for her, grabbed things off the top shelf. Chivalry isn’t dead.” He looked down at you, laughing under his breath when he saw you fast asleep. It didn’t take much, apparently. He twirled a section of your baby hairs right beside your ear, a fond expression in his eyes. “I hope that can be us, mi cariño.”

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

This was day four of your sleepless nights. George had quietly been taking note of your uncharacteristic behavior, and turned to the internet for the answers to this problem. He spent a good amount of time researching ways to help sleep at night, paying special attention to some of the traits you had been displaying yourself. So tonight, he was ready to try out some solutions.

You were surprised when he insisted you both put your phones down at around 7:30 PM. You didn’t mind obliging, despite the fact he lacked a proper explanation. Instead, you played a game of UNO at your dining room table. A game that lasted well past your scheduled bedtime— And by well I mean thirty minutes, which was a lot for a timely guy such as George.

Despite the fact that your game went on for longer than expected, George hopped into a warm shower with you. The two of you enjoyed a relaxing atmosphere, intimately washing each other’s hair and basking in the hot water before finally stepping out to dry off and dress in a fresh set of pajamas he bought for you. It was here that you were starting to catch on to his antics— And you were appreciative.

He lit your favorite candle, setting it on your nightstand as he turned the lights off. The sound of quiet rain played from a sound machine, creating an environment you found comfortable. You curled up next to him, and you immediately felt your eyelids grow heavy. George grinned, softly rubbing your back as you listened to his steady heartbeat.

“Thank you,” You murmured knowingly before drifting off. Nice and early, no restless turning needed. He’d be getting the best boyfriend award.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

To say Oscar was annoyed wouldn’t be true. He rarely got annoyed with you, and when he did he always talked it out. However, there was some frustration with the current situation. You were having trouble sleeping, and it was in turn keeping him up too. However, he felt more frustrated for you than towards you.

“Still can’t sleep?” He grumbled groggily. You froze, completely unaware that he was even awake to begin with. You nodded sheepishly, and Oscar sighed before sitting up. “Roll onto your stomach.”

“Huh?” You raised a brow at him, and then your cheeks flushed with warmth. “Oscar, I don’t-”

“No! Not that,” He assured quickly. “I was gonna massage your back.” He frowned, and you couldn’t help but giggle before rolling over onto your stomach. Your boyfriend straddled your back, his hands kneading your shoulders first. You grunted, relaxing your head against the pillow as he worked out a knot.

“Where’d you learn to give massages?” He worked his hands down, feeling around for tension in your muscles and then carefully pushing it away. He seemed to know what he was doing- Every move calculated and precise.

“I looked it up on google about ten minutes ago.” You opened one eye and glanced back at him, rolling your eyes at the sight of his cheeky little smile. “I’m joking… Sort of.”

“Well,” You huffed with satisfaction. “It feels good.”

“Good.”

He continued, occasionally helping you pop your back. By the end of it, you felt far more relaxed. With Oscar’s help, you eventually were able to fall asleep, happily curled up next to him with a grin to match. He kissed your nose affectionately, whispering a soft ‘Goodnight.’

—

OLIVER BEARMAN - OB87

“What is this nonsense you’re reading, that doesn’t even make any sense-”

“Ollie just read the book,” You whined. He offered to help with your lack of sleep problem, especially since he didn’t have anywhere to be in the morning anyway. Unfortunately, you did. The solution was for him to read your favorite book— It worked for children with bedtime stories, so maybe it would work for you. However, he seemed to be in a rather chatty mood.

“Okay… But just saying, it’s kinda…” You gave him a pointed look, and he cleared his throat quickly to continue reading. You stared off through the window, your cheek pressed to his chest whilst you focused on the words from his lips. This book was a comfort to you; you had read it many times, and now you could probably recite every line, even as Ollie was occasionally misreading a few words to you.

You shifted around to get more comfortable, tugging at your light blanket as the night breeze threatened to capsize you. When the morning came, you’d start to feel the intense heat, but at the moment your hair was standing on edge, skin coated in goosebumps. Ollie squeezed you tighter with his free arm— the other was holding the book in question.

Ollie peered down at you when a shocking scene came up, his jaw dropped. He was just double checking he heard that right, only to find the heart warming sight of you sleeping soundly against him. He gently shut the book and shimmied down to rest beside you, burying his face in the warmth of your neck. So much for that.

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triplefrontierbabe · 10 months ago

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hello! can i request a dr3 x black cat! reader? we all know dr is like a golden retriever and the dynamic with a tough, badass r, i feel would be so good! it gets to the point where the grid is like “mate your gf is kinda scary” and are legitimately scared of her (except for max, and danny tries to tell them shes not). but one night maybe dr (+more) get tooo drunk and the grid sees how caring and loving r really is (takes care of them) and understands that shes just a tough exterior with a soft loving interior please?

if not, its all good!! thank you 🤍

Opposites Attract

summary: Daniel’s the only person who knows how to crack your hard exterior

pairing: black cat! f!reader x golden retriever! Daniel Ricciardo

warnings: mention of drinking, you are responsible for the content you consume

a/n: I love this prompt!! I truly think Danny has the personality fit for a black cat! gf. hope you enjoy!

Daniel loves to smile, a lot. It’s kinda his thing. If Daniel Ricciardo isn’t smiling then something is seriously wrong. You can’t forget about his contagious laugh that livens up any space he’s in. Overall, he’s just a ray of sun bursting with joy.

So you can imagine the confusion on everyone’s faces when he introduced you as his girlfriend. You, the stoic, keeps-to-herself, only-shows-minimal-expressions girl dating Daniel, the golden retriever of the grid.

To any outsider the relationship dynamic didn’t really make sense. But, to be fair, compared to many other wives and girlfriends of the grid, you keep your life fairly private. You accompany Daniel to his races, you watch the race then you’re ready to go home as soon as the last car crosses the finish line. And, unlike many of the other drivers’ better halves, modeling and being in front of the camera is not your thing.

“I can’t tell if she hates me or likes me? She seems a little intimidating.” Lando says to Daniel one day. Daniel has introduced you to many of his mates and you’ve gotten to know many of them on a personal level outside of the paddock. Your stoicism once again triumphing in confusing the drivers.

“No, she does like you, Lando.” Daniel says. “I know she’s hard to read sometimes but she enjoys the company.”

This was a conversation Daniel found himself having often with other drivers. While you did fraternize with the other ladies, your social battery was quick to wear out on long weekends. Often excusing yourself from conversations because you were tired and could only handle so much interaction in one go.

However, after one race weekend, Daniel somehow convinced you to go out with a group of the drivers and their partners. It was a good race for Daniel, he placed P8, so of course a celebration of points was in order.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” He tried reasoning with you. He had tried many times before in convincing you to go to a bar or club to celebrate. Only once before was he successful, and that was because it was to celebrate his birthday.

“And, we don’t even have to stay that long” he began “just have a couple drinks, mingle a little bit then leave.”

Now that was a plan you could get behind.

“Okay, I guess.” You said, sighing in defeat. It was one night, that wouldn’t kill you. And who knows, maybe people would see you’re not all that emotionless after all.

The night was going along just fine. Drinks were served, conversations were had, music was played. Max somehow ended up dancing on top of a table which resulted in Daniel joining him.

You and the other girls giggled at the sight of the grown men acting like college frat boys at a rush party. Yes, you giggled too. Lando saw it. He tried to take a mental note, amidst his drunken state, of the expression of emotion you had. Who knows if anyone would ever see that again.

“Mate did you just see Daniel’s girl smile?” Lando asked Charles who was standing close by. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a mental note he made after all.

Before you knew it, the clock had gone way past midnight and many more drinks were had. You, however, tapped out after two drinks. Someone in the relationship needed to be the coherent one for the night and it sure wasn’t going to be Daniel.

“Babe, I love this song!” Daniel shouted over top of DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love as he stumbled towards you and the rest of the group. Once he was standing next to you he started dancing, terribly, attempting to twerk or at least move his butt in a what he thought to be a provocative manner.

As he bumped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene you had now been brought into. Your almost six foot tall boyfriend acting like a newly turned twenty one year old at a bar for the first time. It was truly comical in the way he moved. For being as tall as he was, dancing for him was quite the sight, his lanky arms moving every which way with no rhythm at all.

“Baby dance with me” he whined reaching out to hold your waist and slightly slurring his words in the meantime. He was quite gone. The thing about alcohol and Danny was that it just heightened his golden retriever energy. He’s already very energetic and affectionate while sober, but inebriated? That’s a whole new level.

As much as you were reluctant to leave, you knew if Danny didn’t get to bed soon, the inevitable hangover in the morning would only be ten times worse.

“Okay honey, I think it’s time we head out.” You announce putting an arm around his waist to keep him upright. As soon as your arm is around his tall frame, he leans into your touch just like a puppy who hasn’t seen their human all day.

“But the party’s just getting started.” Daniel said pouting. Once again, a laugh escaped you before you could even process what was happening.

“I know, I know” you began as you put Daniel’s arm around your shoulder. “We can have more of a party later, okay?” You said patting his chest, trying to maneuver him in a way that would make it easy to walk out.

Before heading out, you announce your and Daniel’s departure and thank everyone for such a great night.

The group watches in amazement as you methodically guide Daniel around the crowd and head for the door. And they don’t miss the kiss you press to Daniel’s cheek along the way.

The guys are stunned to say the least.

“I think that’s the most personality I’ve seen from her ever.” Max exclaims, eyes wide at what he just witnessed.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak before.” Charles adds.

“It’s no wonder he chose her,” George begins, “she keeps him calm.”

So yeah, is your and Daniel’s relationship dynamic totally different on the outside? Sure. But he’s the only one who has managed to open up your heart just enough for him.

Opposites do attract after all.

Check out my Masterlist

#daniel riccardo x reader #triplefrontierbabef1 #triplefrontierbaberequest #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #black cat!reader #golden retriever

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noxiatoxia · 5 months ago

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Been seeing this go around and it makes me so sad...

"Hinata was normal up until around middle school, and he was even excelling in classes and sports. But because of this, it worsened this idea in his head that he was someone special who could achieve his hopes and dreams."

And I think this makes Hinata especially tragic. It hits home for me and I feel a lot of normal people. Being good, but not good enough that it matters. Being the best in your class doesn't mean anything to the world. You're almost there but not quite yet. It's maddening.

I think Hinata's upbringing has a lot to do with it.

About the same level of canon-ness as this tweet, Spike said this about Hinata's parents.

I think Hinata thinks what he does mostly because of his parents. They consented to the Kamukura project after all. They were not happy that their son was just average. We see all throughout SDR2 that what Hinata wants isn't talent. It's to feel confident. That he belongs. Talent is just a means to that end. Because if he's exceptional, he'll have something that makes him worthwhile. That's what his parents taught him, directly or indirectly.

Compare it to the Naegi siblings. Makoto and Komaru do not envy talent. They are impressed by it, and they sometimes lement how normal they are, but it is no skin off their back. I think it's because they grew up happy. They clearly had good parents and a good life. Becoming the best wasn't either of their goals, because they weren't taught that's what it takes to deserve love.

It's tragic. Hinata was a perfectly average - above average even - person. But everyone around him wanted him to be more, so he wanted to be more.

SDR2 and DR3 both hint that he used to get bullied in school. This definitely contributed, I think.

Hinata didn't want to be himself, because he wasn't good enough as himself, and that meant he couldn't be happy. He knew what the Kamukura project would do to him. He didn't care. Because it was better than being himself.

You could call it arrogance. In part, it is. But all I see is a kid who was damaged by his upbringing trying to fix it all. If he was shown more kindness and love in his life by his parents or other adults, I think it would have turned out differently. If Hinata didn't have these values instilled in him from those around him and the world itself, none of this would have happened.

And considering he was just fine as he was, it's incredibly sad.

#hajime hinata #dr #;noxiatalksia #i feel so sick thinking about this guy. HINATA GET BEHIND ME.

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saintescuderia · 4 months ago

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STUCK ON THE PUZZLE // DR3

(a pancakes! one-shot)

AKA - how daniel's famed 2018 monaco win was the beginning of the end

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: hi there. apologies for being mia. lot of life changes. here's something i started pre-hiatus. also shout out to dr3, mans had such an impact on my life. the prince who would've been king. words: 9.6k (strap yourself in kids) warnings: angst. like a whole lot. breakup. bit of cheating. etc. (was cathartic to write tbh)

You loved Daniel.

You had loved Daniel with your whole being.

Because Daniel was not someone to take half-heartedly. People either loved him or hated him - there was no in between. And when you first properly met Daniel, sticking chopsticks under the gums of his mouth to make a young Max Verstappen laugh after a bad race, you found your mouth falling open at the sight of such person.

“Hi! Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel!” He had smiled with his whole face, eyes crinkling even all those years ago when the sun had yet made its mark on his face. A younger, fresh-faced Daniel still smiled with his whole being. Seeing Daniel smile made it feel as if the sun had decided to stop shining on the world - and, instead, focus all its rays onto you. A singular sort of warmth filled you from head to toe as you met the famous Red Bull driver who somehow made everything around him a few shades lighter, warmer, more yellow.

Love.

You fell in the category of people that loved Daniel Ricciardo.

To say that you fell in love then and there would be an insult for the love that steadily grew within you for the beautiful boy who lit up your entire world. Because he did. Every time you walked into a room and found him there, you found yourself able to breathe easier. It was as if you finally could gasp at air, unaware you had been holding your breath until then, until you saw him.

When you would later talk to your therapist about it all, you would compare to when you were younger and had really bad asthma.

“Daniel was like my puffer. I could breath easier around him.” You had said. “Now it just feels like I’m drowning again.”

The first time you had properly hung out with Daniel, it was because of Max. Your best friend had dragged you to some campfire that Daniel was having with a bunch of his friends. You felt awkward and out of place since Daniel had invited Max - not you. Still, Max was adamant you come. At the very least, you could keep each other company. Or so Max had argued by way of finally convincing you.

And so you followed Max through the nice looking beach house Daniel had rented out. It was even more picturesque with the sun that was just about to set. Your grip on the two cases of beer you had brought with you now becoming a lifeline as the social anxiety set in.

Walking closer, you heard music. Soft strums of a guitar playing. It was interrupted by a loud round of raucous laughter. You took a deep breath.

Daniel was playing the guitar. He was laughing. And you finally exhaled.

God, he looked beautiful. There was no other way to describe him.

Your crush aside, even a blind man had to admit it. The whole scene of him was beautiful. To this day, you could paint the picture clear as ever. The black and white striped Stüssy shirt, the bright pink board shorts and the bare feet. Tattoos spotted all over his body.

He was sitting right in the middle of everyone, a half drunk corona light - lime, not lemon - pushed in the neck of the beer bottle by his tattooed thigh. The flickering lights of the dancing flames shining on his tanned skin as the sun continued its slow decent to the horizon behind him.

“Ah, here they are!” Daniel said, putting the guitar away as he spotted you and Max. His smile grew and he stood up to dap Max. You, however, were awkward as fuck. You gave a general wave to everyone else, the boys nodding or holding up their beer in greeting. You suddenly realised how there were all guys here and felt even more out of place.

But then Daniel turned to look at you.

“Uh, hey. I brought more beer.” You immediately said because you weren’t sure what else to say.

“Oh, thank you! Legend!” Daniel said, taking them from you and setting them down. He then turned to give you a hug and you found yourself holding back. His arm went right around you and you wanted nothing more than to that just melt into him. Did everyone find him this cuddly?

“Did you find the place alright?”

It took you a second to realise he was asking you, and not Max. Daniel’s eyes were on you. His big brown eyes and the wide smile, teeth and all. On you.

“Uh, yeah. Actually no.” You said, realising you were just on auto pilot and needed to snap out of the nerves. “Max wouldn’t listen to my directions.”

“Tsk, Maxie. You need to listen to her. Look what listening to her got you.” Daniel said to the boy behind you who was now sat, holding a beer. Max had recently been upgraded from Torro Rosso to Red Bull and, as such, now went to social events like Daniel Ricciardo's private hang outs.

Though why Max made you come with him was beyond you.

“You’re lucky to have a trainer like this one, mate.”

You had to steel yourself from that compliments Daniel was giving you. You watched him open the esky and dump the beers you had bought into it. He then pulled a cold bottle out and opened it to shove a lime into the neck. Daniel then turned to you, hand slightly outstretched. “I’m gonna guess beer is okay since you brought more?”

“Yeah, no worries.” You said even though you were trying to cut and technically weren't supposed to drink. It was one of the many reasons you thought it not fitting to come but Max had just dismissed a hand anyway.

You watched Daniel use a keychain to open the bottle lid and felt the need to also explain, “Max kept saying I should come but I didn't realise it would be all guys and - ” You were interrupted as Daniel handed you the drink. “- oh, thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I wanted you to come. I told Max to bring you.”

“You… oh.” You found yourself unable to form a response at that. Your body did that for you. Your cheeks warming up with the blush that set in.

“Yeah. You’re cool. And we always have fun so it’s nice to shoot the shit outside of the garage and all the cameras of the Paddock.” Daniel said. “But, uh yeah my bad. I hope you don’t mind us guys. All these guys are lame and don’t have any girlfriends.” He raised his voice, aiming the last part at his friends who were all sitting just to the side.

One of his friends flipped him off. “Oi mate, neither do you!”

“Yet.” Another said quietly, taking a sip of his beer as he did so. The friend beside him laughed. You found yourself blushing even more and you wanted to meet Max’s eyes - but the idiot was too busy looking up at the sky.

Fuck's sake, Verstappen.

“Anyway, listen since we finally have a girl here you can give us advice.” One of the boys called out as you came to sit down. You ignored how Daniel didn’t go back to where he was sitting before, opting to sit next to you on a log that was definitely too small for two people. “So our mate Tommy here is slowly falling into the friend-zone. Tell him what he needs to do.”

And so the night passed where you hung out with Daniel Ricciardo and his friends. The sensitive soul, Tommy, who was in love with his neighbour. The trainer Blake who had known Daniel since they were both three years old - and it showed in how many inside jokes they had. The cousin Corey, who worked as a teacher and was a serious lightweight. Then, of course, there was Max. You hadn’t realised how close Daniel and Max had gotten but seeing them outside of racing suits put a new perspective on their friendship with how integrated Max was with the rest of Daniel’s friends.

It all made the imposter syndrome deepen. Even though the boys included you in the jokes and explained the context behind all their stories, you couldn’t get it out of your head. Why were you here exactly?

And so on the drive back home, you grilled Max. Incessantly.

“Daniel called me said if you would be down. I said yes.” Max explained. “Maybe it was a mistake. Were you that uncomfortable?”

“Yes. No. They were all guys.” Your response was pathetic at best. That reason wasn’t justification enough. Most of your social circles lay in cars and sports. As such, Max gave you an odd look and you shook your head. The universe, as if to prove the point, Charles’ name came up on the car screen as your phone started buzzing.

You pressed decline and huffed. Max gave you another suspicious look. “I’ll call him later. I just — “

“What?”

“I like Daniel!” You finally snapped, saying It. “Alright, Max. I like him. And it’s fucking awkward. I can’t hang out with him like I would with you and Charles and the whole thing is fucking messing with me. We work together, he’s your teammate. More than that, he's Daniel fucking Ricciardo.” You finished with a huff. You ran a hand over your face and took another breath. “So next time he asks you just say no."

“Why?” Max asked calmly, not commenting about your abrupt mental break down. Or even the fact that you had just admitted you liked his teammate.

“Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you. I don’t agree with you. At least, not for those reasons.” Max said. “You and Daniel are cut from the same cloth. I can see it happening. He might need to grow up a little but…” Max pursed his lips. “It’s you and Daniel.”

“Well there's the big thing about him not ever liking me back.” The tone of retort was a harsh but Max ignored it.

“Who says he doesn’t?” Max said with a shrug and a smile. “I mean, he asked me to bring you there. Daniel never brings just anyone to those things."

You were silent, pressing your lips together. You couldn’t — Daniel was — what? Daniel didn’t like you. Daniel was just a nice guy. That was — no. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that fact. You had been crushing on Daniel for how long now? From before you even started working at Torro Rosso and saw a charming Australian grinning widely on the podium beside Seb. You’d always noticed Daniel.

It was Daniel.

Daniel remembers all too well the first time he really noticed you.

You had been walking by yourself in the Paddock. It had been a windy day and your hair, curls and all, were blowing from the wind. Music had been playing from the headphones Daniel had kept over his ears during the trip to Paddock.

Now, as he watched you, two things happened simultaneously.

Alex Turner’s voice fills his ears with the lyric: “I’m not the kind of fool whose gonna sit and sing to you about stars, girl.”

His brain buzzes with a sole thought passing through his mind: 'God, she’s beautiful.'

He blinked and pulled down his headphones. Someone called out your name and you turned to look and see that new Torro Rosso kid bounding up to you. Daniel pulled his headphones back up and shook his head. You were in the uniform so he could easily find you later and talk to you but - nah. What would that achieve? If he was going to approach you, it wasn’t to just be mates. He would want your number. He would want - what? A quick fuck? That wasn't uncommon in the Paddock but that could also get messy if you worked in Red Bull's junior team. He didn't know what you'd be like.

All he knew was that you were beautiful.

Maybe that’s why Daniel didn’t know how to act around you. He was nice, perfectly polite. He would joke around - as he did with everyone. But inside he considered the bonus points for every time his jokes brought you to tears. Because he was always secretly waiting to see if you would laugh or not.

Daniel joined you and Max for track walks, he got you a coffee every so often, sprayed the champagne directly at you when he won. Then he give you a big hug as everyone rushed to congratulate him. And he would count the seconds where your arm was around him. He basked in that. He liked hugging you.

But he never asked for your number. He didn’t hit follow when he finally found your Instagram. Which was surprising considering how close you two seemed, how well he got along with you and enjoyed your company.

“Ah, my phone died. Daniel can you call Y/N? And tell her to bring Max with her.” Christian said, sighing at his dead phone that he set on the table. You and Max were late for a briefing meeting.

“Oh, I don’t have her number.” Daniel said. Some people looked at him. Even Christian Horner frowned in surprise.

“What? Oh, uh. Okay. Angela can you try?”

“Sure thing.”

Daniel wasn’t even sure how he got your number. Probably needing to call you for something and Max gave him the number. Or it very well could’ve been Christian giving it to him. Either way, your name was saved in his phone without much intention.

Because he didn’t have any. He couldn’t.

As always, there was just that something missing. He had something missing.

But he liked spending time with you. He liked seeing you rip into Max for not following the routine you’d planned for him. He liked seeing you talk soccer so enthusiastically with Guenther Steiner or that Spanish Toro Rosso kid. He liked how nice you were to hospitality workers and kids. He liked how knew cars and even managed to fix the temperamental engine in his own car once or twice. He liked that you never got starstruck and were honest and straightforward and that the gym was your safe spot. He liked how you wore your hair with a bandana — even if meant you often got in trouble with Christian for the 'creative liberties' you took with the Red Bull uniform. And he really liked seeing you in a hoodie. He knew you often wore them outside F1.

All your interactions had been through Formula 1. Daniel thought about it for five seconds before dropping a message in the group chat during the winter break.

Catch up in the beach villa.

Then he dialled Max’s number. “Hey Max! Are you free this weekend? We’re planning on having a bonfire, you should come.” Then Daniel paused and added, “And, hey, bring Y/N with you.”

It was only a few weeks later that Max finally just asked him the question.

“Why don’t you just date her?” Max said as Daniel watched you talk to that Spanish junior, Carlos Sainz, about some soccer team you both liked. Daniel knew Max’s old teammate had a thing for you but Daniel wasn’t worried. Carlos would’ve made a move by now if he had the balls. Then again, Max’s question pointed out the very same thing about him.

“What?” Daniel asked and then grinned when Max gave him a pointed look. “Ah, Maxie. You’re too young to understand love.”

“I understand that Charles is debuting soon.”

“And?” Daniel asked, puffing his chest. He knew briefly of your connection to another driver, some rich Monaco guy called Charles Leclerc. But you’d always spoken of him like he was your brother. You referred to him as ‘bro.’ From how he understood it, Charles was to you like Blake was to him. Best friends that grew up together.

Evidently not, according to Max. “And I have seen the way Charles looks at her.”

“Yeah?” Daniel said, staring at how Max’s race engineer, GP, called you over and Carlos watched you walk off. Did you not notice this? Carlos was literally all over you.

“Yeah. It’s similar to how you look at her.” Max said with a huff. Daniel considered this and suddenly looked away from Carlos to stare at his own two feet - and the fancy sneakers you had bought him.

“Look, you like her, yes?” Daniel looked up at Max who was watching him, expectant. He nodded. “So what’s the issue? I said it before - you both cut from the same cloth. And I say that when her and Charles grew up together. You and her have something… you’re the same.”

You reappeared with GP beside you, papers in hand that he was clearly reading aloud to you as he gestured to Max’s car ahead of the upcoming race in Germany. You were nodding but then looked up and caught both him and Max looking at you. You smiled widely at them, at him.

From outside the garage, the wind blew, the papers and your hair rustling.

“I’m not the kind of fool whose gonna sit and sing to you about stars, girl…

Daniel stared at you. He liked you. He really, really liked you. And Max had a point.

… But last night I looked up into the dark half of the blue. And they'd gone backwards.”

“Alright, deal.” Daniel said, looking at Max. “If we win today, I’ll make a move.”

“Daniel said that he told Max, ‘If we win today, I’ll make a move.’” You said, looking at the young woman with the notebook in the chair in front of you, “He always liked to leave things to chance and stuff. But, he didn’t win. He came second. Maybe that’s why it failed. Bad luck because he didn’t actually win.” You shifted in your seat, the used tissue in your hands half ripped to shreds.

“Is it not considered a win if they are on the podium?” Your therapist asked, not very aware of the ins and outs of Formula 1.

“No, only if you come first.” You explained. “Then it’s a win. In Hockenheimring, Lewis won. Daniel came second and Max was third.”

Louise, your helpful therapist, jumped in. “But Daniel did say we. So I don't think it mattered much who was first or not."

“So then why would he start something if…” You stopped and found the lump in your throat growing again. You looked down at the tissue that was too ripped up to be of much use. Even with your eyes blurring, you still saw Louise push the tissue box over to you.

“I think that’s the current problem. It’s not very helpful in your state to go down these rabbit holes of if thinking. Because then we can start hypothesising this and that and you’ll fall into more downward spirals.” Louise said. “Any time a thought begins with ‘if’ I want you to try and practice what we said before about curbing those thoughts.”

If.

It was something you thought about a lot.

If, in late July 2016, at the Hockenheimring, Daniel and Max didn’t get on the podium. What would’ve happened then? Would you have still have had the tears in your eyes, feeling like you literally burst from happiness? Would you have stared up at Max filled with love and fondness for the boy who was starting to break through all his past hurt and make it. Seeing Max’s hard work finally pay off and placing on the podium had set you off.

And he was on the podium alongside Daniel.

Daniel who had somehow wormed his way deeper and deeper into your heart with every passing day. Christian Horner had even waived the family exception of your contract for Daniel because there was no way he couldn’t. You and Daniel were attached at the hip - even beyond the scope of you training his teammate.

He had starting joining you in your personal workouts - and now was your workout buddy. He had built up a habit of always asking whoever was sat next to you on the plane to switch. To the point that just last weekend Taylor, a nice PR lady, saw Daniel walk in and immediately started unbuckling her seatbelt to move for him.

Not Max - him.

You went for coffee runs during your break with him, not Max. You complained about your day to him, not Max. You wore his DR3 merch, not Max’s. And even though Max was yet to release any of his own branded merch, there was no denying it.

You fell asleep to Daniel’s voice, not Max’s, sounding through your phone after your call duration ticked over the 2:00:00 mark.

There was always the nagging thought, though. What are we? Where are we going? Daniel had made it clear many times before that he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, not at all thinking himself mature for those responsibilities.

But then he would send you pictures of him with his nieces and nephews. But then you would spend two hours on the phone even after being around each other all day. But then he would fall asleep on your shoulder half way through the movie - and you didn’t have the heart to get him to move. And so you slept beside him.

You had grown up with the Leclerc boys, all of whom you were super close with. And if you got married tomorrow, you would probably get Max to be your Man of Honour. Being friends with boys was not exactly knew to you.

With Daniel, it was different. From the very first bonfire, you knew it was different. Hanging out with him was different. You did and said things you didn’t share with just anyone.

You shared your thoughts, your dreams. You told him how your missed your father and still hated your mother. You told him about the bullying. You told him about the feeling of hollowness you sometimes felt - and the fear that it would never go away.

“You… you actually make it go away. I never feel it when I’m around you.”

“Then I just need to always be around you, huh.”

Daniel had come 2nd and Max 3rd. You still congratulated Lewis’ 1st place but you were more excited to see your boys and celebrate accordingly. You couldn’t contain yourself seeing them spray the champagne. Your phone was out, snapping as many pictures as possible. In that moment, you felt pure joy. Looking up at them, at your boys, you wanted the moment to never end.

Daniel then leaned into Max and whispered something. He pointed down, down at you. Max followed his hand and suddenly both the Red Bull drivers were looking at you and spraying their champagne directly at you. The people around you cheered and your name was called out amongst all the ruckus of the celebrations.

Everything after that race passed by as a blur. You couldn’t even tell Louise how it happened. The boys had to go to the cooldown room and then the media with the post-race briefing. However, in amidst all of that, you managed to see Daniel.

Still in his race suit, the top half hanging off his hips and his entire body and hair drenched in sweat. Your face lit up seeing him walk towards you.

“Hey, there you are! Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in media? Where’s Max — “

Daniel didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you to press his lips against yours. When he eventually pulled back to rest his head on yours, he said something that set you off.

“Okay, what now?”

You should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known back then. It wasn’t even the wishful if thinking. You just should’ve seen it coming when he was asking you what the next move was.

But back then, you were too dumb to know better. Back then, you were still trying to process the kiss, let alone his words. Back then, all you wanted to do was kiss him again.

And so you did.

Being with Daniel reminded you of one key factor - you either loved or hated him. You couldn’t be indifferent to the guy. He was not to be taken lightly. And much like he was not to be taken light, he also himself did not take things lightly.

When he laughed, Daniel laughed with his whole body.

When he cried, Daniel let the sobs wreck through his whole entire being.

No one saw that, though. Daniel never let anyone get close to that side of him. You had come close, but he always still held you at arms length. Even in the peak of everything, when the sun was shining and the flowers smelt sweet and you two were in the utter bliss of the honeymoon period… he always had a part of him that he didn’t let anyone get to. Not even you.

You had tried. Many times. But he wouldn’t.

He would just smile, shake his head and say he was “wired that way.” Then he would shut you off and you would be left to try and pick up the pieces until the door slowly fell ajar once more.

Because you loved Daniel. You loved Daniel with your whole being. And if all he could give you were these pieces… then surely it would be enough? You loved him, and Daniel loved you.

He loved you in how he arrived to work every day with your coffee order “extra hot so it’s still nice and warm for you.” He loved you in how he spent the time every night doing your rehab with you after the foot injury. He loved you in the goofy selfies he sneakily took on your phone for you to later find, in the hoodies he bought as “joint custody for me and you.” He loved you in the lyrics he would randomly text you of songs he thought you might like or that reminded him of you.

He also loved you in how he was always driving you anywhere and everywhere. In the three years you were with Daniel, you probably needed your license once. And that was for the time you had to pick him up from the airport - flowers and sign abandoned on the floor when you saw him walk through the gate and you rushed and jumped into his arms.

He loved you in all of this. He just never said the words to you.

But that was fine because you still had him. You had the Daniel who ran on the treadmill beside you, who stopped by Max’s side of the garage to give you a hug and a coffee, who cracked jokes when you were stressed and made you feel seen. Any time you felt yourself floating away, Daniel was right there to ground you, the asthma puffer to make you smile and breathe.

So, for a while, you managed to live in bliss.

Even with all teammate drama, it worked. Somehow. Sometimes you needed to step in between the two highly competitive men and remind them of how they were friends. Occasionally you might use the ‘it’s hurting me’ card which wasn’t the biggest lie. Max was like a brother to you and Daniel - Daniel made you start thinking about guest lists and buying property. The entirety of 2016 and 2017 was marked with such joy from the fact that you had your best-friend and boyfriend always beside you.

The late night car rides where you and Daniel argued about music. Or the late night Fifa championships where you and Max argued about football. Or, your personal favourite, the early morning meetings where you all three took the piss with an exasperated Christian Horner.

In short, you felt yourself finally making a family for yourself. This wasn’t yo, an added extension of the Leclerc family - this was you and what you had built for yourself.

In fact, you were starting to feel that your world and Daniel’s were becoming all the more closer. Tommy called you every so often for girl advice, Blake and you sending each other gym memes and Corey needing your help to buy Daniel a birthday present. It seemed like the years of loneliness was starting to pay off and God was finally giving you what you had spent so long wishing for.

Of course, nothing stays the same. The one certainty about life is that everything changes.

It happened during the Hungary Grand Prix. You had gotten a call from Pascale about a family friend’s upcoming wedding. You had received the invitation from the bride herself not too long after that in a group chat with you, her fiancé and Charles. You four had all gone to school together anyway.

Her wedding was just over a year away but she wanted to know RSVP’s ASAP because it was happening Monaco and she needed to plan around the Grand Prix. Such was life.

Not thinking much about it, you told Daniel.

“Oh, yeah sure. May - wait, that’s like… next year?” He said, pausing what he was doing on his phone to stare at you, confused.

“Yeah. She needs to know responses because I think she’s planning to have it close to the Grand Prix so the venue needs numbers now.” You explained. “But it’ll be nice since you’ll be there anyway and you can finally meet Charles and the Leclercs properly. I can show you where I grew up and - “

“Uh, I mean. Babe, that’s kind of far away.” Your enthusiasm slowly died seeing the tells of Daniel slipping away slightly. He brought his hood up and went back to his phone.

“Ah… yeah.” You said. For some reason, that feeling was coming back. Panic. Stress. Unease. You tried to play it off. “I can… go with Charles, if you don’t think you can make it.”

“No. Fuck that I’m your… Charles can - no.” Daniel shook his head. “Look can we just…” He let out an exhale and sat on the hotel bed and pulled up a pillow behind him. “What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“I - “ You tried to think of answer but food was the furthest thing on your mind. You looked down at your phone and Charles’ response to the save the date chat.

Felicitations ! Of course I will be there with my family !

You knew you had to respond but hated that you couldn’t send your own message with the same level of surety. Will you be there? And with Daniel? The bride was asking how many plus ons to pass the number of heads to the venue. Charles had made it clear. You - not so much.

“I need to know Daniel.” You said, feeling a bit fed up of not being able to be sure of things with Daniel. “She’s asking me for numbers. Do I put you down or not?”

Daniel let out of very heavy sigh. "Does this really matter right now?"

“Yes it does.” You stuck to your gun. “I mean, what’s the problem? That it’s in a years time?”

“I’m not having this conversation.” He immediately dismissed and went to fluff the pillow, hitting it with a little too much force.

“Well I want to have it. What’s the problem?” You asked, coming round to stand in front of where he was sitting. “You literally couldn’t even say it before.”

“Say what?”

“Boyfriend. When I said I can go with Charles you said ‘No, fuck that I’m... ’ and then trailed off. Like you always do.”

“I don’t always trail off.”

“Yes, you do! I mean, we’ve been together for how many months and we’ve never even had the conversation about it being official.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Daniel said with a dry laugh. “Seriously? Are we fourteen and kissing in a tree also?”

You frowned and felt the hurt wash over you. It was one thing for him to not understand but to make a joke about it. You clenched your hands into fists, the nails digging into your palms. “Daniel.” You said, trying to be calm. “It feels, to me, like you’re scared to fucking commit.”

“Oh for fuck's sake, babe! What? Because I don’t know if I can make it to a fucking wedding in a year!” Daniel yelled back. He then pushed himself off the bed. “Fuck this, I’m going out.”

“Daniel! We’re talking.”

“Yeah? I’m done talking.”

The door slammed on his way out. Daniel didn’t come back to the hotel room. Around 3am you texted Max to see if Daniel had gone there instead.

No, he’s not with me. Are you okay? Did something happen?

You didn’t respond. You just continued to cry in the pillows of the too large hotel bed. They still smelled like him.

Max swore it was not because of you.

But then you saw how cold he’d been to Daniel all weekend. But then you saw the crash on the opening lap.

Max cared about you, and seeing you cry about Daniel pissed him off.

You heard Daniel swearing on the radio as he spun out of the race. Thankfully, he recovered to 6th, his original starting position behind Max, who also originally started 5th. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. Still, everyone in the garage was fuming. A few members gave you the side eye, knowing your relationship between the two of them. You couldn’t even be mad at the “trouble in paradise” comments because, well, they were true.

You went to Daniel’s driver room and let yourself in.

“I said don’t bother me for — oh.”

“Hi.” You said, closing the door behind you. You went to him and kneeled down on the ground to bring yourself eye level to him.

“Shouldn’t you be with your driver?” He asked, not meeting your eyes.

You took a breath, ignoring it and letting him just let it out. Instead, you forced a smile on your face and look at him with gentle eyes. “I’m with my boyfriend.”

“I can’t say that word, remember?” His voice was sardonic and you rolled your eyes.

"Can we stop it with the dumb shit?" You said and lifted a hand to his face. "None of that matters right now."

"I thought it did."

"Daniel." You exhaled. "Where do I go home to?"

"What?" He frowned and gave you a confused look that bordered on annoyance. You ignored it and repeated your question.

"Home. Where is it?"

He frowned. "Fucking Monaco? I don't know."

"True. I go to Monaco and dump my bags at your doorway, kick off my shoes by your mat and raid your fridge. Every track, I leave Max's garage and go to your hotel room. You're home. That's all the matters."

Daniel's face changed at your words. Gone were the tells of anger and now you saw something that hurt a little more - the sadness. Daniel being sad felt unnatural. To see the happy-go-lucky boy do anything but smile felt wrong.

"This weekend has been a shit run. Not just on track. But don't think that means I'm not still by you."

Daniel's eyes welled. He put a hand over yours. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure what he was sorry for. So you ignored it. And you smiled at him. "It's okay. I'm here. And I love you."

He didn't say it back. But he hugged you. And for that moment, it was enough.

After a while, a new pattern emerged between you two.

You and Daniel would be good. In fact, you would get closer and closer. He would get a tattoo of something that symbolised you. You would change your emergency contact to him. You two would get so close in fact that you would continue to be deluded that everything was fine and that you were both on the same page of where you would both heading.

Then something like your friend's wedding would happen.

Daniel doesn’t politely reject the advances of the model hitting on him at some PR event. Or he ignores you for most of said PR event. He goes on a three day fishing trip without telling you about it. He gets mad that you planned a week in Hawaii for summer break without telling him.

He doesn’t say I love you back.

Not that he ever did. It was the common recurrence. But sometimes his lack of response to the three words hurt you more than others. Especially because you would say them hoping that that time would be enough for him to say it. Because you needed to hear him say it. Just once.

Maybe if he said it, you would’ve been fine. If he said it, then you wouldn’t feel the need to say it less. If he said it, you wouldn’t get hurt when he declined moving in together, when he made up an excuse as to why he couldn't go for dinner with Pascale and the Leclercs.

If he said it, you wouldn’t get mad when he left you at a party to hang out with Heidi Klum or some other Victoria Secret model. If he said it, you wouldn’t find yourself stressing between the hours of 11pm to 3am when he didn’t answer his phone and no one seemed to know where he was.

You and Daniel would be good, great even.

Then someone would happen that made you need to bring up the future, the reality of you and him.

Daniel would then freak out and close himself off. This would end up in an argument.

And then he would disappear and leave you for the night. Maybe a whole day if it was really bad.

But he would come home and you would make up and things would seem better, stronger even, as you both got closer. He would get another tattoo, burn you an actual CD mix of songs and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

Looking back, that should’ve been the part that made you end it. The toxic cycle you had found yourself in with Daniel was not helping anyone. It was dangerous and damaging and even Max was getting sick of it. “I said you were both cut from the same cloth but I also said Daniel needed to grow up a little bit.”

Because Daniel wasn’t ready to stop having fun. That fact never became more apparent than it did when it came to the 2018 Monaco Grand Prix.

And if Max was starting to get tired of you and Daniel, then Charles was beyond over it.

“Where’s Daniel?” Charles blue/green eyes shone in the sun as he helped unhaul your bags from the taxi.

“He’s coming later. Apparently, there’s a yacht party. Don’t tell your mum. Pascale invited him to breakfast and I feel bad.” Charles opened his mouth and you gave him a look. “It’s impolite, I know. We just had a fight and I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“A fight about what?” Charles asked, rolling your bags into the Monaco home you and him had grown up in. And it was this very home that you and Daniel had argued about.

You saw Monaco as a way to be at home with your family - to get your yearly haircut (yes, yearly) from Pascale and visit Hervé’s grave. But it was also time for you and Charles to hang out the house the two of your grew up in. To play Mario Kart with Arthur, workout with Lorenzo or cook dinner with Pascale. You liked to be at home with your family and take it slow.

Whereas Daniel didn’t see Monaco as this. Instead, he was hitting up every party, every club. He was sleeping on yachts and drinking his weight in mimosas for breakfast. At first, you had accepted it, thinking that maybe that was just the Formula 1 driver life style.

But Max never did this. And Charles had invited Lando, George and Alex over to play video games and have lunch. A lunch that was likely going to be cooked by you and Pascale. They weren’t going out clubbing or anything. And you saw Carlos Sainz up bright and early every morning when you tapped in at 6am to go the local gym.

No, it was just Daniel being Daniel who wanted to follow any sounds of heavy bass, laughter or glass clinking. Sure, he wasn’t the only person in F1 who did this - quite a few tended to - but you had hoped that now he was with you that he could give Monaco a chance to be a place of calm, a place for family. Weren't you guys growing up and sharing your lives together? Wouldn't that mean he saw Monaco for what it meant to you, and not what he always knew it to be; a hunting ground for a good party.

It didn't help that Charles was always feeding into these thoughts. Like right now when he sighed deeply and went on to say. “The boys are coming at midday.” He said, seeing your lack of response as Charles set your stuff down in the spare room that was, really, just your room. “You’re more than welcome to join.”

“I might take a nap.” You said, looking at the bed. “Or go for a run.”

“I think Lorenzo was going to go for one.” Charles said.

“Actually I might go by myself.” You went to unzip the bag but Charles’ hand came over to yours. You looked up at him and Charles quietly used your hand to pull you into him. He wrapped his arms around you and you tucked your head in between his shoulder and neck.

Then, you started to cry.

Daniel was driving beautifully.

He finished first in all three practice sessions. Come qualifying, he was one with the car and it would not at all be a surprise to anyone if he got pole position.

Max was fairing much worse. He had crashed in FP3 and the mechanics had been unable to fix it for ready for qualifying. You knew seeing Daniel do well was only adding salt to the wound and after doing all you could, felt it best to leave Max alone in his room for now. Besides, you needed to see where Daniel finished in Qualifying.

“Excuse me, where is the VIP section?”

“Oh, who are you?”

“Monica Richelli. I’m a friend of Daniel Ricciardo’s.”

It was hearing his name that had you turning to look. There in front of you was perhaps one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. And considering your time in Formula 1 and the constant parade of models back and forth, that was saying something.

However, as your time in Formula 1 had taught you, the constant parade of models back and forth was usually for one thing. Models were never just friends of someone. Everyone knew. You knew. The guest pass, the way she smiled coyly, the fact that this was Monaco.

You wanted to throw up.

Qualifying suddenly became background noise. The rest of the time in the garage you stood there unable to focus on anything else. Monica. Her name was Monica. She has beautiful blonde hair. She has great posture. You stared at the effortless way she stared at the screens with the headphones on, as if that in itself was a posed picture for a brand. Her waist was thinner than anything you could ever train yourself to get. Her fingers were long and delicate and covered with pretty gold rings. She was so pretty. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream and die and get rid of this feeling because why did Daniel invite some pretty girl to the Monaco Grand Prix?

Daniel got pole position. Unsurprisingly. You ignored the fact that you were not the first person he celebrated with. We need to be discrete. We've always needed to be discrete.

You ignored the way he gave her a big hug, the way Monica wrapped his arms around your boyfriend. You shook your head. Many girls had thrown themselves at Daniel. Horner had given you many apologetic looks over the years when a sponsor's daughter got too comfortable with your boyfriend and Christian nor Daniel could do much since, well, they were a sponsor's daughter.

This was just like all those times. Daniel is excited and everything's fine.

That thought became a bit more concrete in your mind when Daniel finally did come up to you. Away from the cameras, he lifted you up in his arms and screamed.

"Fucking pole baby!"

The energy had you bursting out into laughter. He pressed kisses all over your face and you felt all your anxiety melt away. This was Daniel. Your Daniel. He loved you.

Tucked away in his Driver's Room, you two could finally be. You and him. No one else. Seeing him like this, you forced all the doubts and worries of earlier out of your mind. He's a driver and he's currently competing against Max right now. Daniel's had a lot on his mind and you could excuse all the funny behaviour as Monaco stress.

"I'm proud of you." You said, grinning wide. Seeing him so happy, you could excuse it all. This... this was worth it.

"Man, I feel good. I'm feeling so good." He said, taking off his helmet. "I'm going to win this. I feel it."

"I know you will." You smiled, letting him hand you his helmet. "Just remember to keep that part in portier - "

"Daniel?"

You both turned to see a pretty head of hair peeking her head in his doorway. Your eyes grew seeing Monica there. Your stomach dropped and whatever reprieve you had felt suddenly was ripped apart as that feeling came right back.

"Oh hey Mon." He grinned. "Good to see you."

The growing ache in your chest hurt just that little bit more hearing the nickname. Mon.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." She said smiling, letting herself in through the door. Your mouth fell open at the familiarity and, well, audacity. "I just wanted to congratulate you on pole. I hear that's the secret to winning in Monaco."

"Yeah it is." Daniel laughed. Ever so cheerful, ever so happy, ever so easy-going. Completely different to how you were feeling inside.

"Oh, sorry. Is this your assistant?" Mon's eyes finally fell to you.

For a second, all the anxiety was replaced with white hot anger at the fucking gall of this bitch. "Excuse the fuck outta me - "

Daniel said your name. You stopped and looked at him. He didn't meet your eyes. Enraged, you forced yourself to bite your tongue.

"This is Max's trainer. She was just helping me out since he DNF'ed. Shall I meet you outside?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Mon's eyes darted to you once more before she smiled up at Daniel then she left the room.

He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Mon -

"Who the fuck is she Daniel?"

You couldn't help yourself.

"Come on, I just got pole in Monaco."

"I know. And you just dismissed me as Max's trainer."

"That isn't the first time we've had to do this. You knew what it was going to be like dating me." Daniel argued back. His voice was clipped and, to be fair, you couldn't understand why. He had just gotten pole in Monaco and you were arguing with him about a girl. Daniel was right, there were numerous times where you two had to downplay your relationship in front of some sponsor or big name.

If anything, him doing that should just be reassuring that this was another case of some random big wig's daughter they had to appease and play the game again with.

But... you just had that feeling.

She had come into his room.

"Daniel. How does she know you?"

"Maybe because I'm a fucking Formula 1 driver and it's the fucking Monaco Grand Prix."

"Don't speak to me like that."

"Then don't be a fucking idiot." Daniel dismissed. "What do you want me to say? Why are you jumping down my throat right now about some girl? Now? When I just got pole? You're my girlfriend. Shouldn't you be celebrating with me? Not worried about some dumb shit in your head."

"It's not in my fucking head. Since when has a some sponsorship bitch come into your room? We're in Monaco and this shit doesn't even happen with Charles and - "

"Fuck's sake!" Daniel snapped. "I don't fucking need this right now!"

And then he stormed off.

And his helmet was still in your hands.

You looked down to the DR3 print and saw yourself in the reflection. You weren't sure at what point you started to cry.

The celebrations for Monaco 2018 were some of the worst days of your life.

Even after Daniel won and fell into the pool, something didn't feel right inside, in your gut. Naturally, the parties went all night long and Red Bull spared no expense. Even Max eventually got over his own shit weekend and mood and join in the festivities.

But you weren't. No amount of alcohol helped seeing your boyfriend dance with all those girls. Not that you could drink. It felt like anything you consumed might just come right back out.

Monica had been there every single second. You had to watch as she sat in his lap, as she pressed kisses on his cheek. Max was nowhere to be seen and Charles had decided to leave the parties to go spend time with the family. Something you really should be doing. But you couldn't drag yourself away from it.

It hurt, it down right fucking sucked to watch Daniel like this - completely in his element and overjoyed - and that you were in no way part of his picture.

"You should go home."

You looked to where the Spanish-lilted voice disrupted the tunnel vision you had on Daniel pouring tequila straight into Monica's mouth.

Carlos was smiling softly at you. He had a gin and tonic in his hand and was dressed in a white linen shirt. You frowned, wondering since when he looked so grown up. Like a man.

"You look like a man." Maybe you were a lot more drunk than you had thought.

His smile became slightly amused. "Maybe because I am, bella."

You smiled at the pet name and found yourself tilting your head to the side. "Did you shave?"

His amused smile turned into an all out laugh. "I did. I felt like Monaco needed a clean face."

You nodded, considering this. In hindsight, the alcohol was a blessing since you could stand here and talk to Carlos about his hair habits and have a momentary reprieve that that was the only thing your mind was processing.

Not the girl dancing on your boyfriend.

"Ricciardo doesn't deserve you."

You looked up at Carlos. He was staring at the scene you had been studying for the past two hours, ever since you had arrived. You had decided to play a toxic game with yourself where you would wait until Daniel asked about you and then you would reveal yourself. After forty five minutes of this game, you ended up at the bar wondering you were even in this relationship. If you could even call it that.

"Thanks Carlos."

"Can you let me take you home?" Carlos asked. "Please."

You blinked at this, at his gentle insistence. You knew it stemmed from pity, that he really wanted to save you from the embarrassment that was your partner going off with anyone woman right in front of you.

"Okay."

Carlos helped you up and put a gentle hand on your back as he guided you out of the club. You thought it very kind and gentlemanly of him. And whilst Carlos would pride himself on being a gentlemen, the real act of kindness was guiding you away so you wouldn't see Daniel stick his tongue down a model's throat.

Carlos' kindness, however, was short-lived. He blames himself. He had wanted to take you for the scenic route around Monaco, get your mind off of it. He bought you ice-cream and was pleased that he would be walking a now smiling you to your hotel room.

Only that you'd open your door and be met with groans and moans. Familiar groans and moans.

Daniel. With multiple women.

In the hotel room you both had shared. As you always had shared. Your home. Supposedly.

You said nothing. What could you say? You weren't exactly prepared to go in there and scream and wail about him - him -- Daniel your -

No.

You found yourself closing the door. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Please... don't tell anyone." You spoke to the man beside you.

"Bella..." He began in a soft voice.

"Please Carlos."

"Of course." He said and reached for your hand. You looked down at him reaching for your fingers, holding them oh so gently. "You've asked me to."

Carlos pressed your fingers to his lips. Your eyes watered at the kindness.

"Please don't cry about that fool."

But you did. Carlos pulled you close as your tears spilled. You weren't sure how or when but Carlos had brought you into another hotel room, one less flash and in retrospect, it had to be his. But in that moment, nothing made sense. Your attention was focused on one thing and one thing alone: Daniel didn't want you.

And so you spent the entire night crying on the bathroom floor.

And it wasn't even yours.

Charles eventually found out.

Not from Carlos. You were surprised he stuck to his word. He had reached out in the few days following Monaco but you ignored him. You just didn't - you couldn't.

It happened, again, in the bathroom. You were brushing your teeth in Charles' ensuite. He knew something was up - you were always asking what he was up to and if you could do whatever with him. Not that Charles minded but he knew you. You were avoiding something.

And if you wanted to avoid Carlos and Daniel and even Max, that was doable. But you couldn't have foresaw the text you'd get one random day.

I didn't realise you were his girlfriend. I'm sorry. He never told me.

You stared the message. Three lines. You stared at them for a good few minutes. Then came the three dots dancing. Then came the screenshots. All the screenshots. Screenshots of Daniel messaging Mon. Messages that dated all the way back before Hungary.

You had toothpaste in your mouth. You immediately spat it out. Then you went to the toilet and heaved. The sounds of vomiting must've alerted Charles because in he came and held your hair back.

You cried and cried. It all broke you again. You don't remember at what point you were verbal enough to tell Charles. Or maybe he read your phone. Nonetheless, Charles somehow figured out what happened and boy was he furious.

That had caused some commotion in the Leclerc household since Charles was all ready to grab his keys and drive to Ricciardo's place. It took Lorenzo being the calm, sensible elder to point a finger at you and ask Charles what was really important now.

"Pense à elle! Maintenant, elle est la plus importante!"

And so the t-shirt Charles had been wearing, a strippy oversized T you'd bought him one random Tuesday, became ruined from your tears. Snot, mascara, the works.

You slept in Charles' arms that night.

You woke up in Charles' arms the next morning.

You spent the day in Charles' bed.

You spent the next week in Charles' bed.

Charles went with Lorenzo to pick up your stuff from Daniel's apartment. Charles copped the earful from Pascale for punching Daniel in the face when the Australian kept probing him for information on your radio silence. Charles bought you a new phone and set it up - making sure to block Daniel's number. Charles sat through all the Top Gear reruns. Charles made sure you ate, even just a little bit. Charles organised a lawyer for you to speak to Christian Horner and Daniel Ricciardo. Charles prepared the paperwork for you to move from Red Bull to join him at Sauber and then, God hoping, Ferrari afterwards.

"Imagine it mon tresor! You and I at Ferrari. We win the Championship and you can fuck off all the idiots." You smiled at Charles who was once again doing the most to make you smile.

"Thank you Charles." You said, smiling at the beautiful boy. You were laying on his bed and Charles jumped on to land on his stomach with an oof.

He booped your nose and then rolled over to turn on the TV and cast the next Top Gear special onto the flatscreen. "Okay, Middle Eastern special. Vas-y!"

You looked at your best friend, your Charles. The break-up with Daniel was going to suck - it was sucking - but Charles made it all the more easier. Everything would get easier. 'Just give it time.' As he said. In time, you'd be working with him and not have to ever talk to Daniel Ricciardo ever again.

It's okay. You reminded yourself of this fact over and over again. Looking over at Charles, you felt some serenity. It would suck, but you knew you could live life without Daniel Ricciardo. But losing Charles? God help you, you'd probably die.

A month later, Charles left.

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon

@charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo @lozzamez3

@butterfliesflyaroundmymind @vellicora @ellen3101 @michelleyw81 @samantha-chicago

@bloodyymaryyy @a-beaverhausen @bokutos-babyowl @tsireyasgf

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slutforpringles · 2 months ago

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via: Daniel Ricciardo: Late braker | The Australian Weekend Magazine Nov 12-13 2016 | Trent Dalton

#obviously not new but I hadn't come across this article before and thought it was worth sharing since it's behind a paywall #with so much of the current revisionism about daniel and his abilities and career it's nice to remind people of just how good daniel is/was #even though it's also a bit bittersweet to see given his undeniable talent the way it just didn't work out #even in 2016 his kindness humbleness and want to give back shines through. which makes it even less understandable that people #continue to say he's arrogant or fake #also I know F1 is in a very different place now compared to where it was in 2016. but it is still INSANE to me that daniel was making #2 million a year when he was considered by many the best driver on the grid in 2014/2016 and compared to what lando/piastri/russell #level drivers are currently making #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #2016 #red bull daniel

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onboardsorasora · 1 year ago

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I need these two pics together actually.

2016

2024

#its the letting his body hair grow free compared to waxing religiously #the tattoo completed #compared to so much naked thigh meat #the veins the tan #the fact that i would nom those legs no matter what!#dr3 #parallels

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andcars · 9 months ago

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# 𝗙𝟭-𝗕𝗙 ─── GETTING CAUGHT STREET-RACING MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

IT'S NOT LIKE YOU to back down from your boyfriend's talents. you go ahead and start street-racing—you never promised to be good at it. but it is just embarassing for your boyfriend to find you in a police station. ───── MV33 LH44 DR3 GR63

TAGS . . . # gender neutral reader, street-racing, light angst, light couple arguments, all happy and sweet ending TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine LENGTH . . . # 1.4k words (around 300w each driver)

MAX VERSTAPPEN should be mad, he really should be, but somehow he isn't. He gets the call in the middle of the night and is half-awake as he listens to an officer rattle on how you got arrested—he listened to an officer rattle in italian in the early morning. whatever it is that he just said went one ear and to another.

"i'm sorry?" he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and hear how the officer changed to English. okay, you got arrested for street racing in italy. in fucking italy. he's being asked to go in person to bail you out. in italy. at 3am. okay. fuck.

as much as he doesn’t want someone to wake up to drive the jet, he isn’t so much keen on driving either. max pays the pilot early and double the moment he sees him, feeling really bad.

he should be totally pissed, he should be. but you’re leaning against the bars pouting as you see him. he doesn’t want to be upset at you, but he feels like he should be.

he sighs and pays your bail. you’re still pouting when you see him, not saying a single word. “will you at least tell me you’re sorry?” he asks, trying to get something out of you. it doesn’t work. “schatje (sweetheart), i had to wake up our pilot for this. at least say sorry to him.”

poor guy. when you get let out, the first thing you do is apologize to monsieur garnier. he’s very kind about it. though, max was right, he did have to wake up early. you're not about to be much of a burden to a man like him.

max doesn't stay mad at you either. it's like he's incapable of it off-track. when both of you are dead tired on the bed, he just pets you asleep. “if you want to race, don’t get caught,” he said, only half awake. “and maybe don’t do it too much like me.”

LEWIS HAMILTON is embarrassed to have gotten the news from social media. it was no more than an hour ago when he checked twitter (he would never call it x) to your arrest. headlines: ‘LEWIS HAMILTON’S LOVER ARRESTED FOR STREET RACING’. the media didn’t even bother to mention your own name.

you bail yourself on your own and come home to an upset lewis. it’s the race weekend, he should be focusing on the race. instead, he can’t stop thinking about your race. one that, of course, you never told him about.

“how long has this been going on?” he asks first.

you shrug, collapsing on the hotel couch. “a few months now.”

“months—“ he gasps into his hands, running them over his head. “and i only found out now?”

you shrug and turn away from him. “it’s my life,” you argue, “and it’s not like i’m the only one with a dirty history in racing.”

you’re bringing up spygate, he knows that. he calms himself before he could say anything hurtful towards you. “i do it in a safe environment—“

“people die during races, lewis”

“—and i play it safe!” lewis has to walk away from this building argument. “baby, i love you, but i don’t think you can compare formula one racing to street-racing. i need you to promise you won’t do this again.”

sure, street-racing is a fun hobby. and you’re still right about formula one racing being just as dangerous. but there’s some things you have to work on in a relationship. finding a middle ground. you sigh, turning to him, “i’ll only race if you can come then.”

he thinks he’s going to have a heart attack.

DANIEL RICCIARDO wouldn’t say he’s a bad influence. however, it’s not like he’s innocent when it comes to this new hobby of yours either. yeah, he never told you to go ahead and start racing like a madman like he was with max on a redbull. but the message was still the same.

the message, of course, simply being: ‘i always wanted to try street-racing. i bet you’d look good doing it.’

it’s on your third race that you got arrested. you phone him yourself and he arrives in the police station with a worried face. he’s not upset, he’s fucking relieved you’re alive.

he asks the officer what happened and is hit in the gut with the fact that you went street-racing. you don’t even look at him to see the disappointed look on his face. it’s embarrassing. you did this just to look cool in your boyfriend’s eyes and it failed. you thought you had more time to improve.

you’re bailed and you and him walk out. “so…” he trails, voice surprisingly calm, “why’d you get arrested?”

weird question. “street-racing?”

he laughs and you finally look at him. he’s just got this stupid smile on his face as he looks at you. “no, i know you got arrested for street-racing, baby. i just wanna know what did you do to get caught?”

a grunt left you as you remember how it went. “one of those fuckers i race with fucking drove me to the side of the road. almost crashed into the river, but i didn’t. the cops manage to arrest only me.”

“aw,” he places an arm around your shoulder and pats your head. “you think they’ll be scared if an f1 driver were to race with them? i gotta make sure you’re protected somehow.”

there’s really just so many things daniel can surprise you with. you don’t know how he managed to surprise you with this too. “you do know we’re like couple of steps away from a police station, right?”

he shrugs. “it’s unfair if only you can be the one to brag that your lover races.”

“i don’t think you can actually brag to anyone that i illegally race, daniel.” he laughs and already is planning how to keep you safe while you enjoy your dangerous little hobby.

GEORGE RUSSELL got the news from a fan. a fan. he can't name a more embarassing moment than someone asking him if he approves of his partner's street-racing. you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to the race because you were with your family. you were not, in fact, with your family.

he arrives at the police station and you're walking back and forth in a cell with some of your buddies. he's red faced as he talks to the police officers and pays for your bail. his heart churns a little when he hears that you're also being fined for destruction of public property. holy shit.

"george—" you try to talk to him but he continues to walk in front of you. a sigh leaves you. "come on, george, i'm really sorry."

he doesn't say anything. however, he does open the door for you to get in. you're not one to turn down the littlest bit of mercy from your boyfriend.

it's unclear to you how you're supposed to fix all of this. you didn't think it was that big of a deal! it's that you made a small mistake, and one of the guys got a little bit too competitive. of course, it was never in the plan to make george find out about this little hobby of yours.

it's at home when he finally talks to you. he asks you, "are you okay?"

"yes," you don't pick a fight with him about how he only asks that now. "i'm okay."

"good," he drops his anger quickly as he embraces you. "why didn't you tell me?"

burying your face in his shoulder, you're hesitating to tell him. "i don't know..."

he calls your name and you give in. "it's just that i wanted to be like you, in a way. but i'm too fucking old for karting now, i doubt anyone would take me in."

gently, he pulls you away to caress your face. he looks at you like you've done no wrong, like an utter angel in his eyes. he tells you, "baby, if you wanted to go racing then we could go racing. hell, maybe i could pay someone to give us a circuit for a while and we can go karting ourselves."

"it's not the same—"

"of course it's not the same," he cuts you off. "because it's gonna be you and me. not you and some random people that are probably out for blood. it's you, who loves me. and me, who loves you. we'll both be safe and i can be there to watch you win."

your heart hurts from how much george loves you. a smile comes to you and he immediately kisses your forehead. you tell him, "you'll never let me win."

he laughs, "yeah, i won't."

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . i am alive ~ anyways. here's a funky little thing. i love the idea of street-racing so bad even though i have no knowledge about it other than drive fast recklessly. also ! i'm opening up a prompt list soon for requests so if you have any ideas for prompts (dialogues and tags), feel free to send it over to my inbox or comment ! ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

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danganfixationronpa · 4 months ago

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Reminder: No Danganronpa ship is explicitly canon except for...

Angie/Shuichi (Salmon Mode)

Status: Dating & Possibly Engaged

Aoi/Makoto (School Mode)

Status: Dating

Makoto/Celeste (School Mode)

Status: Possibly Dating with Celeste making Makoto her knight.

Kaede/Shuichi (Salmon Mode & Love Suite)

Status: Dating at the end of Salmon Mode. Physically & emotionally intimate in Kaede's Love Suite.

Mikan/Hajime (Island Mode)

Status: Engaged.

Misaki/Takumi

Status: In a relationship.

Miu/Shuichi (Salmon Mode)

Status: Dating.

Ruruka/Sonosuke

Status: Were in a relationship.

Ryoma/Former Girlfriend

Status: Formerly dating before her death.

Sonia/Hajime (FTE/Island Mode)

Status: Interested in marriage.

Taro/Tsubasa

Status: In a relationship before their tragic fate.

Toko (& G.Jack)/Makoto (School Mode)

Status: Dating.

NOTE: Technically every Shuichi ship is considered canon to some extent in most Love Suite modes, but that doesn't really count. I only put Kaede and Shuichi's since that one acts out a little different compared to other Love Suites, especially with how into it Shuichi is.

ALSO: There are 2 canon incestuous ships, but I'm not including those cuz eww.

Every other close-to-canon ship are all either implied or confirmed mutual feelings, such as:

Akane/Hajime (FTEs & Island Mode)

Feelings: Heavily implied.

Chiaki/Hajime (SDR2, FTEs, Island Mode, & DR3)

Feelings: Heavily implied.

Chisa/Kyosuke

Feelings: Confirmed.

Peko/Fuyuhiko

Feelings: Heavily implied on Fuyuhiko's side. Confirmed in Peko's FTEs.

Sonia/Gundham

Feelings: Implied.

Ibuki/Hajime (Island Mode)

Feelings: Confirmed on Ibuki's side, heavily implied on Hajime's at the end.

Junko/Yasuke

Feelings: Confirmed.

Kyoko/Makoto (DR3, FTEs, & School Mode)

Feelings: Heavily implied.

Maki/Kaito

Feelings: Confirmed on Maki's side, implied on Kaito's.

Mahiru/Hajime (FTEs & Island Mode)

Feelings: Confirmed on Mahiru's side, implied on Hajime's.

Makoto/Mukuro (DR IF, FTEs, School Mode)

Feelings: Confirmed on Mukuro's side, implied on Makoto's in School Mode.

Sakura/Kenshiro

Feelings: Confirmed on Sakura's side, heavily implied on Kenshiro's.

Sayaka/Makoto (In-canon, FTEs, School Mode)

Feelings: Confirmed on both sides.

Tenko/Shuichi (Salmon Mode)

Feelings: Confirmed on Shuichi's side and heavily implied on Tenko's.

Shuichi/Tsumugi (FTEs)

Feelings: Heavily implied on both sides.

EDIT: I said MUTUAL feelings, guys, not one-sided, even if confirmed.

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bronze-and-silver-keys · 2 months ago

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Since i mentioned i love EPIC have some ramblings i did about animatics that play in my head about danganronpa

SPOILERS for SDR2 and NDRV3

No Longer You - Hajime having a hunger driven fever dream while in the Funhouse, before Nekomaru’s murder, in which he encounters Izuru but doesn't know who he is at this point. Izuru says he cannot help Hajime out of the killing game, and retells past events as well as future ones to come in the killing game

Past events:

"Song of past romance" - Hajimes relationship with Chiaki before the Tragedy

"Sacrifice of man" - Natsumi and Sato's deaths in the anime (Fuyuhiko essentially sacrificed Satos life as revenge for his sister)

"Portrayals of betrayal" - Chisa and Mikan luring Chiaki and her class into the underground maze where she would be killed and the rest of the class driven insane by this

"A brother's final stand" - Chiaki going through her execution that drove the rest of her class to despair, determined to make it to them

"You on the brink of death" - Hajime agreeing to the Izuru Kamukura project, which would be the death of the old Hajime

"You draw your final breath" - Hajime going through with the IK project and being transformed into Izuru

"A man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you" - Of course referencing the damage the IK project did to his body and mind, morphing him into an entirely different person

Present/Close future events:

"Your palace covered in red" - Hope's Peak in the aftermath of the Reserve Course committing mass suicide, as well as the killing game from THH

"Faces of men who had long believed you're dead" - After the IK project was successful, Hajime was said to be killed in some tragic accident, allowing HPA to explain his disappearance

"I see your wife with a man who is haunting. A man with a trail of bodies..." - This could be referring to Chiaki being connected to Nagito via being the traitor and chosen by his luck to kill him, outing her. As an Ultimate Despair, Nagito no doubt has a body count, or at least a trail of Despair he's left. This could also be referring to Hajime seeing Chiaki in the 6th trial when he's given up hope, referring to Izuru as haunting and the one with the body count.

Future events:

"Song of past romance" - Sonia being fucking devastated at Gundhams actions and death

"Sacrifice of man" - Nekomarus death, a sacrifice so everyone else could escape the Funhouse

"Portrayals of betrayal" - Gundhams supposed betrayal as the blackened who killed Nekomaru to allow the others to escape, as well as him fighting back still during the trial

"A brother's final stand" - Nagitos entire plan to expose the traitor with the bombs and his own death

"You on the brink of death" - the terror and confusion surrounding both the 5th and 6th trial and that they came so close to death many times

"You draw your final breath" - The old Hajime dies with the shutdown of the program, erasing that version of him from the simulation

"A man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you" - After the end of the killing game and everyone gets out of the NWP, Hajime is a changed man. He's gone through a ton of character development compared to how we see him in DR3.

OKAY WISDOM SAGA IDEAS

Legendary - Kinda tricky but could either be Komaru being trapped in Towa City and desperate to escape OR Makoto just before he enters HPA when he's still full of hope and joy and no trauma, lamenting about how he wishes he could be as cool as the other Ultimates

Little Wolf - OKAY continuation of both of the ideas from Legendary (1) Komaru escaping the apartment and facing off against the Monokumas invading the building and Towa City, with Togami or Fukawa as Athena stepping in to help or (2) Makoto struggling through the trials and Kyoko stepping in as Athena to help him get through it

We'll Be Fine - EITHER (1) Toko as Athena talking about the killing game and Komaru as Telemachus just appreciating her and how good she is at fighting or (2) Kyoko as Athena Makoto as Telemachus after the first trial

Love in Paradise - Chiaki as Athena looking back on everything that Hajime has been through as he and the other remnants of despair are placed in the NWP. The lightning strike during the Thunder Bringer segment coincides with Hajime's last moments as himself before becoming Izuru Kamukura. The introduction to Calypso's island serves as an intro to Jabberwock and Hajime waking up on the beach after he passed out from shock. Hear me out - Nagito as Calypso, going over how theyre stuck there but the island is pretty cool. When we get to "7 years she's kept you trapped out of your control. Time can take a heavy toll" and we get to the angsty part, it's skipped to Hajime in the 6th trial spiraling from the reveal of the world and his identity. The overlapping voices are the voices of his classmates in the trial room and a mix of the ghosts of those who died. This is right before Chiaki confronts Hajime and restores his hope and will to live.

God Games - Okay this could easily follow the idea for Love in Paradise, with Chiaki still as Athena, Monokuma as Zeus and deciding to play one last game with Chiaki in the code behind the curtain. If she can convince some of the past victims with the strongest issues with helping Hajime after learning his identity as the mastermind, she can get through to Hajime and help him. Ibuki as Apollo (she just wants to hear Chiaki sing teehee), Nekomaru as Hephaestus (Hajime betrayed his cohort in the Reserve Course but of course they got the wrong version of the story because Junko), Mikan as Aphrodite (HEAR ME OUT), Gundham as Ares (has qualms because Hajime is giving up on life), Nagito as Hera

Not Sorry For Loving You - Tenko as Calypso, Himiko as Odysseus. Tenko apologizing to Himiko about how insistent she is but not apologizing for how she feels, with the sad viola at the end with Penelopes theme showing Tenko bowing to the floor on "why in the world won't you love me to?" Then it cuts to her murder scene

Dangerous - Kokichi as Hermes, Kaito as Odysseus. Kaito lamenting about his dead friends while trapped in the hangar and Kokichi coming in and convincing him to help him with his plan to end the killing game, with the exchange at the end happening as they're making the switch for Kokichi to get into the press ("Hermes! Thank you." "Don't thank me, friend, I'm not the one who fought for you." "Then, who?" "Haha, good luck!" And the who is Maki MAKI fought for him)

Charybdis - Kaito as Odysseus, and Charybdis and the effort of escaping it is represented by getting through the class trial according to Kokichis plan to end the killing hame. The whole song is told from Kaitos perspective while he's in the Exisal, and when he's referring to Charybdis as "you" and "your" he's referring to ***Shuichi*** the ultimate detective who can easily ruin this plan with his deduction. The switch at the end after seemingly making it through the trial smoothly ("There, I see it...") to the transition into Get In The Water ("What?") is prompted by Shuichi choosing to lie and say he saw Kokichi alive after the investigation started. Kaito panics and jumps out of the exisal, knowing Monokuma would kill them all if he stayed quiet. ("No... NO!")

Get In The Water - This one is a little tricky. It follows immediately after Kaito exits the Exisal, and Monokuma begins as Poseidon ("There you are... Coward."). Kaito doesn't defend himself, he's willing to sacrifice himself so the others can live, so Shuichi interjects as Odysseus and tries to use the argument they've had thus far to end the trial without a verdict ("Maybe, you could learn to forgive.", but of course, ("... No.") Monokuma sets up the execution anyway. As Poseidon's classic line continues ("Ruthlessness is... mercy upon... ourselves...!") Kaito walks willingly to the iron maiden rocket, sits in it, and it slams shut ("DIE!"). The Orchestra swells as the execution happens, and as Odysseus is plunged into the water in the song, at that moment Kiibos ahoge is knocked off as the rocket lands, sending him into silence without his inner voice. Kiibo hears the voices of his friends, long dead, and becomes newly motivated, both by their words and Kaitos sacrifice, to end the killing game with his own hands.

Six Hundred Strike - Now we're seeing it from Kiibos point of view and he plays Odysseus, destroying the academy in the name of all of his friends who died, directing the attack towards Monokuma rather than anyone in particular since this is before the 6th trial. When we do enter the trial, Tsumugi is saying Poseidons next lines ("You idiot... Can't you see? You sealed your fate, just to beat me." [On that 'me' Tsumugi cosplays as Junko, referring to the ideology and iconography of the killing game and that it would never die.]) HOWEVER, Odysseus' next lines are said by SHUICHI who is so broken and tired and anguished from all of this death and despair and facing the fact that the world isn't real that he breaks and screams at her ("All of the pain that I've been through. Haven't i suffered enough?! You didn't stop when I begged you!") And Tsumugi finally gives in and chooses not to vote at the end of the trial, giving Shuichi the end he wanted ("Alright! Please...")

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dannyriccsystem · 2 months ago

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can we please have yn reacting to the drivers learning how to braid hair because they know hers is kinda long and is always getting in the way. thanks queen

LUSCIOUS LOCKS!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: You have long hair and it’s always getting in the way. Your boyfriend surprises you by learning how to braid it!

Warnings: Reader is described with long hair, Y/N usage, not proofread

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

Your boyfriend had been on the sim all day. You didn’t mind, you were just… Slightly worried for his health. Certainly it couldn’t be good for you to just sit down all day, drinking only RedBull. It was a wonder how he managed to be a pro-athlete without having a heart attack.

Either way, you wanted to make sure he stayed healthy and satisfied, so you cooked up a nice dinner for him, filled with nutrients to balance out the excess caffeine he was taking in all day. As long as he was happy.

You walked over and set the plate down on the sim’s little table. He straightened up, pausing it to look over at you, all while you planted a firm kiss to his forehead. He smiled gratefully.

“Do you want to try?” He’d have to stop to eat anyway, so there was no harm done. You seemed hesitant, but when you nodded he climbed out, grabbing his plate to take with him.

You climbed into the cockpit of the simulator, getting situated. It was a little awkward, but after adjusting some of the settings, you were ready to do some fake racing. He smiled, munching on his food while he watched.

Once he finished, he took note of how you kept brushing your hair aside and away from your face, which was taking your racing down a notch. Max stood up, his hands collecting your hair behind your back, separating it into three sections.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, shivering at the sensation of his hands plating with your hair.

You could feel his hands moving deftly, a slight tug here and there. “Braiding your hair,” He answered so nonchalantly.

“You know how to braid?” He hummed with confirmation, and you slightly shrugged. It was nice to have it out of the way, that’s for sure.

Later, when you were both done using the simulator, you went to the bathroom. Seeing your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but laugh.

It looked awful.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

He noticed it a lot. Your hair seemed to really bug you, constantly getting in the way. You could put it up, but then you’d always complain about how it looked sloppy compared to the rest of your outfit, especially when you guys went on fancy dates.

You always had hair in your face, mouth, or food when eating. It was obviously frustrating to you based on the constant groans of annoyance and overall frustration through the night. He wanted to help, but didn’t know how.

It was late one night, and you were already asleep next to him, your hair thrown into a messy bun that would eventually fall out in your sleep. He went to scouring the internet with tutorials on how to braid and style long hair.

The next day, you seemed angry as you stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for work. You couldn’t get your hair to cooperate in the ponytail like you wanted. Daniel approached from behind, gently massaging your soldiers before pulling it free from the hair tie.

“What?” He didn’t respond, just gave you a big grin in the mirror, and you couldn’t help but grin back. His joy was always contagious like that.

He gathered all of your hair and then split it into three sections. You realized immediately he was braiding it, something you were never able to do because of the awkward angle. It was too long for you to braid it yourself.

When it was done, he took his phone out and captured a picture of his handiwork to show you. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “When did you learn that?” It looked surprisingly good.

“Last night.” He replies, chasing after you for a real kiss on the lips. “I know how frustrating it is to do your hair.”

The real definition of if he wanted to, he would.

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Lando had been itching for the opportunity to prove himself to you. When you guys first started dating, he predicted that he’d need a skill such as braiding. Your hair was ridiculously long, after all. Except, you never did. Never did you really need a braid.

Until now.

He was sitting on the couch while you got ready to go out with friends. He didn’t care, you were a free woman and he quite liked your friends anyway. Lando was anything but controlling— Just clingy.

You came out of the bathroom, all dressed to perfection with your makeup done nicely. He smiled, immediately complimenting your appearance. You thanked him, and then turned around to show the back, as well as your hair. “I’m just not sure how to style it-”

“A braid!” He replied instantly, sitting up straight. You blinked in confusion, taken aback by his sudden response.

His leg was shaking, foot rapidly tapping against the carpeted floors. You giggled softly, and shook your head.

“I don’t know how to braid my own hair. Only other people’s.”

Again, he replied instantly, “I can do it.”

Silence, and then you smiled. Even if it looked bad, you could tell he felt passionate about this. You agreed, and sat on the floor in front of him.

His hands were gently as he pulled your hair together into a braid. When he was done, he clapped his hands. “There! Looks great.”

You went to check yourself out in the mirror, and surprisingly… He had done it perfectly.

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles loved more than anything to take you on motorcycle rides when the two of you went on dates. It was so freeing, and it felt nice to have you clinging to him with your arms around his waist, enjoying the breeze.

The only problem was, it hadn’t been fun for you since your hair grew out longer, and he respected that. It always flung around everywhere and made it nearly impossible to see. It was unfortunate because before that, motorcycle rides were fun for you as well.

He scoured the internet for a solution to his issue, even asking a forum anonymously on advice. Charles felt stupid when wise women on the internet politely informed him that a braid would fix everything. Of course! But then, he had to ask… How to braid one’s hair, which earned a few laughs from these wise women.

He approached you one day after you both came home from work. You were lazily sprawled out on the couch, wearing an old t-shirt and patterned pajama pants as your comfy attire. “Do you want to go for a ride?” He mused, a slight smirk.

“Mmm…” He looked so eager, it was hard to say no. You hummed. “I suppose.” It was good to do things your boyfriend loved, even if you didn’t.

“Okay, but sit up first.” You did, your back pressed against the cushions on the back of the couch. He went behind, grabbing your hair to begin braiding it. You were pleasantly surprised at his hidden skill, rewarding him with a kiss afterwards.

“Genius, Charles.” You jested, taking the helmet to put over your head, your hair now secure in a braid.

“Thank you, mon ange.” It looked like shit, but it’s okay. Comfort over style.

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Every morning when you woke up, your hair looked like a giant bird’s nest. You went to sleep feeling clean and silky, and then you’d wake up and everything was frizzy and sticking out everywhere. It was annoying.

At first, Lewis laughed at the sight, and would help you brush it out. But then, he began to realize your frustrations were serious and you had yet to find the right solution, so he went on a hunt to gather the proper materials for your new hair care routine.

You were both getting ready for bed. As you were brushing your teeth, Lewis came into the bathroom and silently started to braid your hair. You continued with your teeth brushing, but after rinsing your mouth out with mouthwash, you decided to question him.

“I’m braiding your hair,” he replied before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, now exposed with your hair out of the way. “I bought you a silk pillowcase too. Tomorrow, when you take the braid out, it should remain smooth.”

The action made you emotional, to say the least. You went to bed quietly after showing him your thorough thanks!

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

Carlos always maintained great care of his hair. He had some of the best hair on the entire F1 grid, making sure it stayed healthy and rid of any gray strays. Having you there to help him through the stressful times was part of that.

Your hair, as result, became well cared for as well. You both took pride in having such healthy hair, flaunting it on the paddock together. The problem was that with hair as long as your own, it got to become an issue. You couldn’t swim without it getting in the way, you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t go on runs.

You were sitting by the side of a pool— It belonged to one of your boyfriend’s friends, and you liked the company that came with. However, swimming wasn’t your favorite. Your hair got everyone and usually ended up tangled from the water. A bun could barely hold it up, especially without looking ridiculous.

“Amor, won’t you get in the water?” Carlos asked as he walked over to you, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. “It’s hot.” He sat in the chair beside you, drying his hair off. It fluffed up quickly.

“Mm… No,” You shrugged softly, pushing your sunglasses up. He looked nice— Always something you could appreciate. “My hair just gets everywhere.”

He felt bad that you couldn’t enjoy the cool water on a day like this, especially since he was the one to drag you out there. “Do you have a hair tie?” You nodded, and handed it to him. He gestured for you to sit up, and when you did he began to section your hair.

When it was done, he tied the braid off at the end and cleared his throat. “There… Looks, uh… Good.”

You didn’t care how it looked. It was the effort that made you smile, and you were happy to be able to enjoy swimming with him.

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

George was an absolute diva. This was no surprise to anyone. He took many things very seriously— The rules, racing, you… His skincare. He took it very seriously, valuing the health of the organ more than anything. When the two of you started dating, you both began to do skin care routines together.

Or, well… You tried. But when it came to the face masks, you always found yourself accidentally tearing hair out. It’s get stuck in the mask and then you’d have a real issue to deal with. Overall, very frustrating to deal with.

Tonight was no different. You started with the water and lotion, and some cream to help clear the stray pimples. George stood beside you, starting to apply his mask. You huffed, staring down at it with a sense of dread. He took note of your quiet rage and moved behind you to begin braiding your hair, his touch tender and gentle.

“George?” You questioned softly, staring at his focused expression in the mirror. He’d probably be a lot cuter if he wasn’t wearing a bright pink face mask.

He looked up at you and smiled, tying the braid off with a tie. “Now it won’t get stuck in the mask, right? Here.” You handed him the mask when he gestured for it.

He helped you finish up the routine by applying your face mask and tucking you into bed for the night. How considerate.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Dating Oscar was a breeze. He rarely picked a fight, was very open minded, and overall was very sweet and caring. The only challenge was how often he exercised. He never forced you to go with him, but you felt somewhat obligated to join him on his journeys.

Running was never easy. Your hair was whipped around in the wind, making it nearly impossible to go for a jog without either inhaling your own hair or having it cover your entire face. You never voiced your concerns, because you were worried he’d feel pressured to stop because of you.

Finally, Oscar just noticed it himself. He was running alongside you, taking note of how you were constantly trying to brush the strands behind your ears or flipping it aside. He stopped his pace, and out of confusion you did too.

“Is your hair bothering you?” He asked upfront, taking a few steps to catch up as you had stopped a few seconds after him.

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal.” You shrugged, but he shook his head.

He spun his index finger in a circle. “Turn around.” You hummed and nodded, and without even be asked to, Oscar began to braid your hair.

“Where’d you learn to style hair?” You asked. You could practically hear his smile, especially when he began to talk.

“I have three sisters. No way they didn’t make me braid their hair when we were little…” He trailed off in silent focus, and then snapped his right fingers. “Done.”

You jogged a few steps to test it out, and then turned around with a grin. “Perfect! Thank you.”

IF HE WANTED TO, HE WOULD.

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