To The Maxiel

Sasha · F1 · Maxiel · DR3 · Gabico · FA14 · MV33 · Brocedes · Piarles · LH44 · Charlos · CL16 · CS55 · she/her · 30s · ND · 🇦🇺

[ihavenoideawhatimdoingheree]

Saw this comment under this and it might be the sweetest thing ever

[idontwantanameforthis]

enchanté newsletter? Yes please

This is so cute

Squealing

the newsletter

[cecoeur]

Ngl I went on a hike thinking Daniel wouldn’t be this front and center. I was joking about the wag thing but genuinely did he and Conor get married?

[garysinises]

I still think it’s nice for Conor Daly that while he didn’t have a great race he did get to fuck Daniel Ricciardo raw, judging from the photos

[billscciardo]

in an ideal world we would get fics about daniel getting railed by conor as comfort after the race but :( we don't live in that world

[billscciardo]

stole this sc from twitter but like... propaganda if you need ✨

[slutforpringles]

is that Danny's beard on the last slide of enchantés stories??? I can't tell

Looks like it to me!!

[slutforpringles]

[bigdicciardo]

x

[slutforpringles]

Daniel in LA a few weeks ago 🌞

[yrsonpurpose]

DANIEL RICCIARDO FP1 // Miami GP 2023

[bratcciardo]

[garysinises]

sw daniel au prompt: boyfriend

apparently the key to continuing this series was max pov so. here's more

19.  Boyfriend

Daniel makes it easy. That had been the thing Max wanted most, when he’d—when he’d arranged it all. He wanted someone who knew the answers to questions Max didn’t know how to ask. He wanted someone who would give him the benefit of the doubt when he said something stupid or weird or presumptuous, who would ask questions instead of getting upset. 

He can’t remember exactly how he phrased it to the agency, but the nice woman on the phone had said, “Let me put you in touch with Daniel,” and that had been it. 

Daniel is, of course, everything promised and more. 

Like: when they’re in Austin, and their rental car reservation is all messed up, and the woman at the desk asks, “And will your partner be driving the vehicle too, Mr. Verstappen?” and Max says, “Yes. He will actually be the primary driver, I think,” Daniel just smiles, easy as anything, looping a hand around Max’s hip. 

“He likes it when I drive,” Daniel says, leaning in like it’s a secret. “My little passenger princess.” 

The back of Max’s neck burns; it’s too much, too good, too loud. 

But Daniel says it in a goofy, silly way that makes the woman laugh, not weirded out at all, because Daniel is grinning, like they’re all in on this joke together, Max, Daniel, and Dana from Enterprise. 

He knows it’s pretend: whatever happens later, he knows. Daniel isn’t his boyfriend, of course. It’s just that sometimes Max thinks he could ask him if he would be, and he thinks Daniel might say yes. He’s prepared several scenarios: Daniel wouldn’t have to stop working, if he didn’t want to, though maybe Max would have some questions; or maybe Max could just pay him an allowance and he could move in, which would save him money; or maybe—it would take time and Max would have to talk to Raymond and his family, but if Daniel needed the assurance it was real, Max would be willing to marry him. Not that he needs to, but he would, if it would make Daniel feel better to have a guarantee that Max wouldn’t leave him high and dry. 

But it’s a nice feeling, to pretend. And he thinks Daniel finds it nice, too, with the way he squeezes at Max’s waist, at the stubborn crest of fat there that he seems to like touching. Even when they aren’t pretending to be boyfriends, Daniel likes touching that place, likes to bite at it, kiss it. 

Heat blooms in Max’s belly. 

Daniel catches him looking at him and smiles, leaning in close so his lips brush Max’s hot ear. 

“Can’t wait to get you into bed for anniversary sex,” he whispers. “Not sure I’ll let you out of it.” 

Max looks at him, surprised. “It is our anniversary?” He says it too loud. Dana glances up at them. 

“Our first,” Daniel says reassuringly to Dana. “He’s bad with dates.” He shrugs. “Men.” 

Dana laughs.  

“I am sorry I forgot it was our anniversary, Daniel,” Max tells him. If it was their real anniversary, he would not have forgotten. He would get Daniel flowers—several dozen red roses like in the movies. He’d fill Daniel’s house with them, and Daniel would call him and say, “Max, I can’t even move around,” and Max would say, “Then you should just come here, and then there will be no problem,” and Daniel would laugh and come there, and Max would probably not be able to control himself and would kiss Daniel the second he got in, because Daniel is so hot it makes Max feel stupid to look at him. 

And for some reason it seems like Daniel thinks he’s hot too. He doesn’t think he’s just saying so. He had, at first, but—it’s been long enough now that Max thinks he probably means it, even if it’s not as big and all-consuming as Max’s attraction to him. 

“No problem, baby,” says Daniel, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll make it up to me.” 

Max’s face glows red; he can feel it radiating off him. Dana also blushes, but Max is used to seeing women blush at Daniel. And they don’t know—whenever Max decides, Daniel will show up and fuck him hard enough he’ll come over and over, like he really is a girl. 

Good girl, Daniel sometimes calls him, and—it burns. Hot and shameful and delicious and terrifying. It makes him feel crazy. He tries to think if he would ever like anyone else calling him that, but the second he considers sleeping with someone other than Daniel, his stomach drops and he feels panicked and sweaty. How could it ever be as good with someone else? Who would even want—the reason Max is paying is because—

“You’re all set,” says Dana, handing them back their documents. “Apologies for the inconvenience, Mr. Verstappen and Mr. Ricciardo.” 

But she says it wrong, like Richie-ardo. Reflexively, Max says, “Ricciardo,” properly, and Daniel turns to look at him, a little amazed smile on his face, his eyes big and that light brownish-greenish-gold color Max has never seen in anyone else. 

“Ricciardo,” Dana repeats pleasantly. “Have a safe trip.” 

“Thank you,” says Max. Daniel thanks her too, and Max grabs both of their suitcases before Daniel can try to, because he is always trying to do these chivalrous things that Max should be doing for him. When Daniel realizes he’s been outpaced, he just laughs, putting a hand on the small of Max’s back. 

“So gentlemanly,” he says. “Is this special anniversary treatment?” 

Max blushes, glancing back toward the desk at Dana, whose customer service face has dropped, now looking neutrally bored at her computer. “You do not have to keep it up,” he tells Daniel. “I do not think she can hear us.” 

Daniel makes a dismissive sound as they exit into the dark parking lot. “And miss out on anniversary sex? No way, baby.” 

It’s the way he says it—a joke, but not. Like he knows it’s not their anniversary, but he wants to get Max in bed and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and flirt over dinner and drinks and brush their teeth next to each other at the sink later and in the morning. Like if Daniel really was his boyfriend. 

And Max had said they were dating first, but Daniel had brought up it being their anniversary all on his own, and now he wasn’t letting the joke drop, which had to mean something, maybe—

“Hey,” says Daniel, squeezing Max’s hip again. “You’re in your head. Come back to me, hmm?” 

Max looks at him, at his gleaming smile, the lines near his eyes, the necklace that Daniel had agreed to wear on this trip, sparkling against his throat.  

“I am here, Daniel,” he says. “With you.” 

Daniel kisses him, soft and swift, and hops into the driver’s seat.

[blamemma]

daniel ricciardo's post race radio after finishing p4 in the sprint race

[dannielricciardo]

okay occasionally i will get comments on my daniel posts from people who joined us recently in watching the sport and they are always so sad they didn't get to witness him do his magic in real time and it makes me wanna tear up. because what do you mean this man left the sport thinking the sport had left him behind. pundits convinced him that he lost his x factor and that actually, the sport had evolved past the need for drivers like daniel ricciardo, past the need for daniel ricciardo. he was too smiley, too positive, too australian, too extroverted, too old, too washed, too injured, too overrated, too shiny for a sport that no longer feels like the crown jewel of motorsport

and then you have these new people, joining us during one of the worst regulation changes, on a grid with 4 different champions, that has absolute media juggernauts on it, along with promising newcomers, people on their revenge arc and so much more. and all those newcomers earn for the beauty of more elegant racing, from a less controlled era, that only daniel motherfucking ricciardo produced. they wish they could have seen the last of the late breakers, because they are an extinct species now. no one does that anymore, it's a lost skill now. they wanted to be there to see someone be unapologetically themselves and it's maddening to me that survival for daniel meant completely divorcing himself from the sport that he loved more than it loved him, because in many ways, we are the sport and there's so many people who keep finding and falling in love with the magic he was convinced he could no longer produce except yes he could and did, until his literal last lap.

[crankylex]

annie i need these tags to be kept forever

[slutforpringles]

we're losing the ancient texts 😭

[bigdicciardo]

to see them really happy makes me really happy as well...this makes them very proud — Hockenheim, 2010

[bigdicciardo]

Daniel Ricciardo – Red Bull Junior Team Training in Mallorca, 2009 (gifs)

[bigdicciardo]

"I begged mum and dad to buy me a go-kart" Daniel Ricciardo, Red Bull Junior Team February 2009