or: the drivers aren't only fast on the track. to be fair, you did tempt them. featuring: lewis hamilton, lando norris, max verstappen, daniel riccardio
warnings: sexual innuendo (gracie's ovulating i apologize in advance)
Chapter 11: He looked at her like she left Pixie dust.
Max Verstappen x Reader.
Chapter Summary: Daniel has to remind himself what you were all doing this for and you finally find the man who sent you the flowers.
Warnings: Please understand there is nuance in what I am saying. There is no way you should ever stay with anyone who hurts you in any way, but there is also knowing that people are people and sometimes we hurt people around us because we are also trying to figure out our way in the world. It is nuanced and please read this accordingly.
Word Count: +- 2000 words.
Author's Note: Hello. It’s me. I am slightly back, hopefully. I figured it was about time I finished this series. Only one or two more chapters to go! Please remember that you are responsible for the media you consume.
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“What exactly do you mean by ‘she’s fair game’?” Lando had sprinted to meet up with Pierre, finding him standing next to Charles, and quite frankly not entirely caring that Charles was there at all. Instead, he immediately barrelled into an explanation. Not much unlike how he had handled the explanation to Carlos.
“I mean, there’s a plan, and you are now a key part of the plan, and the plan for now is, when she comes and flirts with you and asks if you sent the flowers, you say you did and you very publicly flirt back.” A smug grin crept across Pierre's face.
“You mean I finally get to have Max’s girl?” Lando felt a little sick at the implication and what it all meant but found himself nodding along anyway.
“Yes, you get to have a shot at having Max’s girl.” Lando couldn’t help but believe that this was only going to last a week, tops, and that wasn’t even factoring max into the equation.
Pierre shot his hand out, ready to shake Lando’s hand, “consider it done.” As Pierre's hand wrapped around Lando’s own, a nauseating feeling overcame him. Yes, you were someone he had always wanted a chance with, you were beautiful, funny, determined, strong-willed, witty, but you were also Max’s. He knew you would hate the fact that this is how they all saw you, but it wasn’t like you were Max’s like he owned you, instead, you were Max’s like Pierre's blood was his own, Max needed you to survive, Max needed you so he could be Max. So, despite the excitement Pierre felt, it was a thin layer over the anxiety and fear he felt simmering below the surface. There was no way Max was going to give you up without a fight, and Pierre knew he was going to lose to the most feared driver on the grid.
As Lando walked away, Charles was backing Pierre away from the media's prying eyes.
“Are you insane? You cannot go after Max’s girl! He’ll kill you.” Pierre's facial expression didn’t budge, because he already knew Max might do just that.
“Probably.” It was too non-chalant, too calm for Charles to feel at ease. No one felt this, lack of anything, when talking about you, especially not when discussing how they were going to take you away from Max.
“You can’t do it. You have to tell Lando no.” Charles couldn’t help but notice the small smile that was creeping up on Pierre’s face, “What are you scheming?”
Pierre let out a laugh that reverberated through his chest, he didn’t entirely understand everything, but he was slowly starting to piece together the plan that the guys had come up with. “Charles, she isn't fair game, we’re just pawns, all of us.”
The puzzled look on Charles' face only made Pierre laugh again.
“Max is in love with her, and let’s be honest, she’s in love with him too. We all know this. The only ones who aren’t openly admitting it are them, to each other. They both need a nudge. They both need to be pushed far enough that they finally admit it to each other.” Pierre said it as if it was the most simple plan in the entire world.
“And how exactly do you intend on getting her to admit that?” Charles knew Max wouldn’t, especially if there was an entire convoluted plan to get you both to admit it to each other, clearly Max was a lost cause.
“Make her realize that everyone else just kind of sucks compared to Max. Make it so bad for her that Max becomes the only viable option.” The plan was falling into place from Pierre’s side and Chales was starting to understand the repercussions of that.
“If you’re bad enough, she might complain to Max, and if she complains to Max, he’s going to do everything in his power to make it right.” Charles and Pierre were suddenly sporting identical grins, the same ones that they couldn’t help but exhibit when they were children and they knew they were doing something that their parents would disapprove of, but god were those times fun.
And this was going to be fun.
“Who knew you were such a romantic?” The boys began to make their way to each of their respective garages, needing to get ready for the race.
“What can I say, I’m French.” With a final nod, Pierre and Charles parted ways, ready for this new game they got to play.
—--
“Oi!” You turned at the familiar voice, watching Daniel and Carlos jog up to you. Despite the nerves from you after your and Max’s confrontation, you were excited to see them, even after your confession to Daniel.
Daniel engulfed you into a hug you didn’t realize you needed, a silent promise that he wasn’t going to abandon you, despite how rocky things were between you and Max, and that he wasn’t going to spill your secret, well, to Max at least.
“We think we know who sent the flowers.” Carlos lied as he pulled you into a hug of his own. He didn’t miss how your body tensed up at his words.
“Oh, you did?” The boys gave a knowing glance towards each other, both clocking the disappointment in your voice, “Who should I be flirting with next then?” You giggled, trying to ease the tension from your earlier dejection.
“We have pretty good intel that it was Pierre who sent them.” Daniel kept reminding himself that lying to you was going to help you and Max. Did he feel childish in all of this? Yes, of course. If he didn’t know you and Max as well as he did, he would have just come out with it and told you the truth, but the chances of you believing him were next to nil and Max was a coward who would never believe you loved him just as much as he loved you, unless you both heard it from the other, and even then, Daniel was sure there would be some doubts from the both of you. So yes, he felt childish, but he also knew this was for your own good. He had to believe this was for your own good.
Your eyes widened at hearing it was Pierre who sent the flowers, although, it oddly did not surprise you that he was the one to blame for all of this commotion.
Carlos clocked your surprise at the admission. “Are you not happy?” Their plan kind of fell to pieces a little bit if you weren’t.
And truthful, you weren’t happy at all, because despite it all, you had hoped it was going to be Max who sent the flowers. Even as you tried to push it down, there was always that little bit of hope.
“How could I not be happy? A hot frenchman wants to send me flowers? I could probably get used to that.” You could get used to it right? He wasn’t Max, but he was good looking. You two got along whenever you had to interact, and clearly he was interested in you, and if he was the only man who was interested in you, you could get used to that.
Daniel felt a sadness wash over him, you’d meant that. You genuinely thought you just had to settle for the things that you didn’t want. You might not have to say it, but he knew.
He just had to remind himself, he was doing this for the greater good.
“Yeah, you should probably go and find him before the race you know, I’m sure he would love the extra luck from you.” Daniel was calculating where Max should be right about now, hoping he wouldn’t see you and Pierre talking. The story about how Max had responded to Charles simply being nice to you had struck a very particular fear within Daniel and he was nervous about putting Pierre in harms way, then again, if Pierre had agreed, he knew who Max was, he knew the risk he was taking. Max wouldn’t though, he knew better.
“Okay, yeah, I should go, he should be at his garage, yes, okay, I should go.” There was a frantic energy about you, a nervousness that neither Carlos nor Daniel had expected. You turned to head towards the garage, but suddenly turned back, a shift in energy, from nervous to shy, “Do I look okay?” Your eyes cast downwards at the question, almost too aware that this lack of confidence was abnormal for you.
Daniel recalled a memory from ages ago, as always, you all were away for a race weekend, Daniel sat in Max’s room, not entirely sure what exactly they were all doing, but suddenly there was a knock at the door and Max swung it open to reveal you. There you stood in all your glory, hear up, skin looking tired from all the travel and the lack of sleep there was no way to avoid, pimple patches on, what he can only assume were the oldest pair of sweat pants you owned and there was definitely something staining your shirt, but it didn’t matter, certainly not to you and without a doubt not to Max. You walked in with a smile, making up an excuse not to stay because of all the work you still had to get done. Max tried to pull rank as your boss, but you had shut him down as your friend, and soon found yourself leaving the room. What Daniel had remembered though wasn’t the interaction, all of that was nonsense, it was Max’s response afterwards that he remembered. You had walked in there completely confident, it’s like you knew Max would never care, despite him now knowing how you felt about him, and Max. God does Daniel remembering teasing Max over how he had stared at that door after you left, like you had left pixie dust all over and it was still lingering in the air. You were always confident around Max. You were always yourself around Max. And Max, god, Max loved you for exactly who you are. Always, no exceptions, every version of yourself and he had proved it again and again.
You were always safe to be confident around Max, yet here you were, shy, about how you looked for someone you didn’t even like.
Maybe that was always what it was about, the people we love make us feel confident because, well, they treat us like we’re magic because we are brave enough to be ourselves around them.
Maybe this is why, even after Max had treated you like shit, you still cared, you still loved him, because Max was brave enough to be vulnerable to be himself at that exact moment, even if it was a horrific version of himself. It was still a part of Max, a scared part of Max, but we still love the complicated versions of each other, because we love the human. And you loved Max.
And you were scared if you looked good enough for Pierre.
It was for the greater good.
“Of course you look good. It’s you. And the man that sent you flowers will always think you’re beautiful.” There was no lie in Daniels words, and Carlos could add nothing but the nod of his head, urging you towards the Alpine garage to wish Pierre good luck for a race he was most certainly going to need it in.
And so you went, despite the nerves and shyness, despite it all, you walked with your head held high, towards the man that had sent you those flowers and he could do nothing as you walked past him as he stood off to the side, knowing exactly where you were headed. Max caught Daniels' eye as you turned into the garages and all his friend could do was shrug. If he was going to be a coward, what was anyone else meant to do about it?
As you rounded the corner, you bumped into something hard and before you even had a moment to re-orientate yourself, there was a hand guiding the loose strand of hair behind your ear. You glanced up and there were the unmistakable blue eyes of Pierre Gasly.
“Hello gorgeous.” You wish the sharp intake of air was from excitement, from the butterflies that you had expected to feel in your stomach at finally finding the man who had sent you those flowers, but instead, all you could think was ‘I’ve got to get used to this.’
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I was wondering if you could write a one shot where your dating Danny Ric and your at a race. You sneak into the Redbull garage and steal Penelope from Max and have a sleep over and Danny gets his make up or a face mask done because he can’t say no.
Thank you
mischievous- daniel ricciardo
a/n: so sorry this came late I’ve been somewhat busy and this was rushed so if it doesn’t come out good I’m sorry, send in more requests🫶🏼
As the sun began to set over the bustling race track, I found myself standing nervously in the Red Bull Racing garage, heart pounding with adrenaline. My boyfriend, the charismatic and talented Daniel Ricciardo, known affectionately as Danny Ric, was out on the track preparing for the upcoming race.
Feeling mischievous, I spotted Penelope, Max Verstappen's lucky charm, sitting on a nearby table. With a mischievous grin, I quickly grabbed her and tucked her into my jacket before darting out of the garage.
Later that evening, back at our cozy motorhome, Danny walked in and raised an eyebrow at Penelope sitting proudly on the table. "What's this?" he chuckled, clearly amused by my antics.
"I may have borrowed Penelope for a bit," I admitted sheepishly, trying to stifle a giggle.
Danny shook his head in mock disapproval before breaking into a smile. "You're trouble, you know that?" he teased, pulling me into a warm embrace.
As we settled in for the night, Danny surprised me by pulling out a face mask kit. "I thought we could have a little spa night," he suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Danny Ric with a face mask on, looking both ridiculous and adorable at the same time. "You're a good sport," I teased, planting a kiss on his cheek.
And as we drifted off to sleep that night, with Penelope watching over us from her place on the bedside table, I couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of joy and laughter amidst the thrilling chaos of the racing world.
Dan and Jemma hadn’t seen each other for almost two years, since they had broken up. Jemma had moved back to Australia and tended to stay off his radar.
Until now, as they both prepared to celebrate the wedding of their best friends.
Jemma felt the guilt cropping back up as she finished another glass of wine. She had lost count a while ago, but wasn’t this exactly the point? To get drunk and party with Sarah in her last few days of being single.
Speaking of the bride-to-be, Jemma stumbled towards her.
“You okay there?” giggled Sarah.
“I wanted to say sorry again,” slurred Jemma.
“Stop it,” scolded Sarah, reaching for another glass herself. “I should’ve had the sense not to ask you to be bridesmaid if Brendon was going to ask Dan.”
“I appreciate the thought,” smiled the Aussie.
Sarah grabbed her hand as the song changed. “Come on now. No soppiness. Time to party!”
Dan was in the opposite end of the building, laughing as Brendon attempted to sing karaoke.
“Another one?” asked Mark, holding a bottle of beer for him.
“Cheers mate,” said Dan, accepting the drink. As Mark took the seat next to him, Dan started, “hey, by the way, who was talking to Annie when you guys got here?”
“Don’t be an idiot in front of me,” winked Mark, the alcohol slowly numbing his tongue. “You know it was Jemma.”
“I heard she’s not a bridesmaid.” He took a swig and continued, “but I’m glad she’s here for Sarah.”
“Doing it for the soon to be newlyweds?”
“Come on, you know Sarah and Jems are like best friends. Me, Brendon, her and Sarah have been around each other since we were like 18. We’re doing it for them, as friends.”
“Yeah, you and Jemma, Brendon and Sarah, Seb and Hanna – the high school sweethearts. Glad to see you’re here mate, no matter how shit the groom’s singing is.”
Jemma was close to tears when Sarah called her in before the ceremony. Her friend looked stunning and she was so happy for her. She eventually left the bridal suite as Emma texted her to get come and start getting ready in their room.
She was glad she had Emma to keep her company throughout the wedding weekend, despite Jemma being one of the last guests to come to Waiheke Island for obvious reasons. She hadn’t met Dan since their breakup. It was coming up to two years since then but Jemma had no idea what to say or how to behave around him. She had taken every chance to avoid him but this was an event that she could never say no to.
As Jemma took her seat for the ceremony, a friendly voice sounded from behind her. “Jemma!” called the unmistakable voice of Ann.
“Hiya Annie,” she smiled.
“You look stunning!”
“Aw thanks,” she blushed, “you look great too!”
“These seats taken?” asked Mark, walking up behind Ann.
Jemma’s smile widened as she leaned up to hug him. It suddenly hit her how much she’d missed the Monaco gang. Chris, Brendon, Emma, Sarah, Mark, Stoffel and many more used to be part of her daily life until she moved back to Australia two years ago. After sharing pleasantries, the music started and the trio took their seats. Sarah’s nephew led the wedding party which included a smiling (as usual) Dan. Jemma tried to block the thought of how handsome he looked but failed miserably. She watched a nervous Brendon enter and then her stunning friend.
Jemma could hear Ann getting emotional and wrapped an arm around her friend as they all sat back down. She held herself together until Brendon got to his vows. A silent tear of happiness rolled down her cheek as she saw how in love the two were. She reached in her purse for a tissue and when she looked back up, she caught Dan’s gaze. He was looking right at her and offered a small smile that she gladly returned.
A few more tissues later, and the ceremony came to an end. Jemma stayed near Emma as the wedding party moved to the front for a group picture. As the guests slowly made their way to the reception hall, Jemma stayed back for a bit, at Sarah’s insistence. Just because she wasn’t a bridesmaid didn’t mean that she didn’t want to bask in her friend’s happiness. She chatted with Mark and Annie whilst watching the pictures being taken of the newlyweds and their wedding party.
“Mark, Annie,” called out Brendon, “picture time!” The two excused themselves and went to pose for some pictures. Once the photographer was satisfied, Brendon asked Dan to join for a Red Bull family picture.
“Hold on,” said Sarah. Jemma who was busy on her phone, didn’t notice Sarah walking up to her and pulling her arm. “Come on now.”
“Sarah,” gasped Jemma.
“What?” she winked. “There’s no way I’m having a Red Bull picture on my wedding day without you.” Jemma smiled back. “Is that a problem Dan?” asked the bride.
Dan blushed red. “N-no of course not.”
Jemma went and stood next to Annie. She smiled as the photographer took a picture before he sighed. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?” he smiled. “Bride and groom in the middle please, with two people either side.”
Jemma looked over at Dan who opened an arm. She walked over to him and he gently rested his hand on her hip. For a moment, Jemma lost all sense of where she was as she realised how much she had missed this feeling. The flash of the photographer brought her back to her senses as he continued to take more pictures.
The reception was beautiful and all the small details spoke to Sarah and Brendon’s taste. Everything from the flowers, the first dance to the choice of alcohol. Jemma had found her girl gang and danced around with them as she celebrated.
After a few hours of dancing, Jemma sat on the porch just outside the hall, enjoying the fresh island breeze floating by. Her thin scarf wasn’t that great at keeping her warm but the alcohol helped slightly numb the sensation.
“God, you must be freezing,” came a familiar Aussie voice. As Jemma slowly focused herself, Dan had draped his jacket around her shoulders and taken the seat next to her. It smelt of his cologne she noticed.
“You don’t have to,” she blushed.
“Thought I was a good excuse to come say hi.”
“Hi,” she smiled, “how are you?”
“Good.” His grin was back. “You?”
“A bit drunk,” she admitted. Dan laughed and God, she missed that sound.
“So,” he leaned forwards in his chair, “you seeing anyone?” The alcohol had given him courage to be more direct.
“No, you?”
“No.” There was an awkward pause. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” continued Dan. “Getting back into the dating game.”
“Tell me about it. Last time I started to date someone was in my teens, not now when I’m nearly thirty.”
Dan looked her in the eyes. “You’ll find someone Jems. I know it.”
Hearing him call her by the nickname he gave her, Jemma couldn’t help herself but ask, “nothing’s changed between us, has it?”
Dan sighed and slumped back into the chair. “I’m sorry.”
“I understand,” she said, forcing a smile.
“You staying in New Zealand?” asked Dan, clearly changing the topic.
Jemma looked away from him, back towards the sea. She didn’t want him to see the tears that were forming in her eyes. “No, I’m actually headed back tomorrow.” She could feel his eyes on him. “I should be heading back in now,” she said, standing up. “I promised Bianca another dance.”
She handed him his jacket back with a heavy heart and walked back into the hall, dashing to the toilet. Why it still hurt so much, she couldn’t figure out. She had spent nearly two years convincing herself that she was over Dan, but as she looked at her reflection, she realised it was easier said than done. His touch, his smell, his smile and his eyes still made her heart jump. It was never going to be easy trying to move on from her first love.
She tidied herself up and went out with a smile on her face, taking down a few more drinks and dancing around with her friends. Dan noticed that for the first time in a while, the alcohol went down easier than ever. He saw her smiling and laughing as she danced and decided it was best to stay like this, no matter how much he wanted to hold her again. It took all he had in him not to pull her closer when they took those pictures after the ceremony, just to feel her in his arms again.
A very hungover Dan headed back to the hotel from his run when he saw Jemma, Sarah and Bianca stood around a car. He soon realised that the car was a taxi for Jemma as the other two women said their goodbyes to her. Jemma climbed into the car and saw Dan. She passed him a small smile and wave that he returned.
As Jemma started on her way to the small airport and Dan went to his room for a shower, both of them had the same longing thought – who knows how long it would be until they would see each other again.
