Daniel Ricciardo X Reader - Blog Posts

So Hot🔥🔥

Happy 1K!!! I would love it if you could write a little something for my fav Danny Ric 🥹 using some of the prompts, I was thinking of these ❛ if you want something, then you ask for it!’ ‘ Suck on it then’ and "Swallow it. All of it."

tattoo temptation | d. ricciardo

thank you anon!! your favourite is my favourite, so i loved writing this<3 i appreciate the submission, i hope you enjoy!

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, light mention of thigh worship, oral (m receiving), praise, dom!daniel, swallowing.

you had been at this for what felt like hours. your fingers trace the intricate ink on daniel’s thigh, the black lines standing out stark against his tanned skin. you’re kneeling between his legs, your obsession evident as your lips brush over the edges of the design, just above where his shorts are rucked up.

“you keep staring at it like that, sweetheart, and i’ll start thinking you’re more into my tattoo than me,” daniel teases, his voice low and thick, amusement curling around the heat in his tone. his voice never fails to sen heat to your core, and you’d have him talking forever if you could.

you glance up, meeting his darkened gaze, your lips curling into a sly smirk. “maybe i am, maybe you should take the hint.”

he raises a brow, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your head back slightly. he knows you love his thighs, but you’ve been acting different tonight, he can tell your mood isn’t just because of his inked thigh. “if you want something, then you ask for it,” he says, his Aussie drawl sending shivers down your spine. it wasn’t something gentle and encourage, it felt like a disguised command.

your hand slides higher on his thigh, fingers just brushing the hard bulge beneath his boxers. “then I guess i’ll stop teasing,” you murmur, your voice dripping with mischief as you pull the waistband of his shorts down, freeing him from the constrains of his boxers.

his breath hitches as you wrap your hand around his thick length, your thumb circling the tip slowly, spreading the bead of wetness that’s already forming. you glance up again, your lips ghosting over the head as his hand makes its way in your hair, threading his fingers through the soft strands.

“don’t stop now,” he mutters, his usual cockiness tinged with desperation. you knew you were both on the same level now, instead of him being fully in control. you considered teasing even more, but you were just as desperate as he was.

you hum softly, your lips parting as you take him in, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding lower. his thighs tense beneath your hands as you hollow your cheeks, taking him in deeper.

“fuck,” he groans, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding your movements without forcing you onto his cock. “you look so good like this, sweetheart. you were made to be right between my legs.”

you pull back slightly, your tongue teasing along the underside of his shaft before you look up at him, eyes half-lidded. “suck on it, then,” he rasps, his voice deep and thick with need, the command sends a thrill through you.

you obey him, taking him deeper this time as your hand moves to stroke what your mouth can’t take. the weight of him on your tongue, the way he twitches in your mouth, has heat pooling low in your belly. you exhale around him as you moan against his cock, revelling in the way he shivers.

“just like that, baby,” he pants, his other hand gripping the edge of the couch as you quicken your pace. his hips lift slightly, his control slipping as his breaths grow heavier.

you feel him getting close, his grip on your hair tightening as he mutters your name like a prayer. when his release hits, he groans low and rough, holding you steady.

“swallow it. all of it,” he growls, and the raw dominance in his tone makes you clench around nothing.

you do as he says, swallowing every last drop of his salty cum before pulling back, your lips swollen, a satisfied smile playing on your face as you look up at him, fluttering your lashes in the process.

daniel’s chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “you’re obsessed with just my tattoos, huh?”

you wink, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “i love everything down here, maybe it’s all just a good excuse to get on my knees.”

An absolute masterpiece 🔥🔥

A Naughty Gift | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas - Day 6: Secret Santa

warnings: 18+ content, use of vibrator, fingering, best friend!danny

— missed day 5? Read it here by @emchante

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The living room radiates warmth, the soft glow of string lights reflecting off ornaments carefully hung on the Christmas tree. A steady, crackling fire in the fireplace adds to the cozy atmosphere, its warmth mingling with the scent of pine and spiced mulled wine. The chatter of your closest friends fills the air, their laughter blending seamlessly with the holiday playlist humming softly in the background. 

The room is alive with anticipation. You’re seated on the couch, a glass of wine in your hand, your legs curled comfortably beneath you. Around you, your friends settle in—some on couches, others sprawled on the floor with mugs of hot cocoa or cider in hand. The Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, its base surrounded by an array of colourfully wrapped gifts, each tagged with a name. 

Tonight is the long-awaited secret Santa exchange, a tradition that never fails to bring laughter, surprises, and a few inside jokes to your closest group of friends. Two weeks ago, you all had drawn names from a bowl, each person tasked with finding the perfect gift for their chosen recipient. The mystery of who picked whom has been the topic of countless teasing conversations since, and now, the moment has finally arrived. 

You’re excited to see your friend’s reaction when they open the gift you picked out for them—an item you’d put serious thought into, sure they’d love. But there’s also a nervous energy bubbling beneath your excitement. You have no idea who drew your name from the bowl, and your mind has been running through possibilities all week. Will it be something heartfelt? Funny? Maybe even a little ridiculous? Only time will tell. 

One by one, the gifts are claimed and brought back to their recipients. Each present earns its own reaction—gasps of surprise, peals of laughter, or appreciative murmurs.

The stack beneath the tree shrinks as the night goes on, and the anticipation builds. Finally, it’s your turn. Your heart skips a beat when one of your friends plucks a medium-sized gift from the dwindling pile and passes it to you. The wrapping paper is festive but slightly crooked, as if the effort was rushed or the wrapper wasn’t skilled—it’s impossible to tell which. You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head at the uneven bow perched on top. 

Balancing the gift on your lap, you spot the tag attached to the ribbon. Beneath your name is a handwritten message in bold, playful script:

For when you need to unwind :) 

Your eyebrows furrow in curiosity. “I’m almost afraid to open this,” you mutter, pulling at the ribbon. 

With careful fingers, you peel back the wrapping paper, the brightly colored patterns giving way to a glossy white box underneath. The moment the text and images on the packaging come into focus, your breath catches in your throat.

Your gasp is audible—and immediate.

Nestled inside is a vibrator, sleek and modern, its packaging professional and uncomfortably clear about its intended use. Your mouth falls open in shock, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the box, your mind blank.

The room explodes into laughter, your friends practically doubling over as they take in your reaction. You blush furiously, scrambling to pull pieces of the discarded wrapping paper back over the box as if that might somehow undo what just happened. But despite your embarrassment, a laugh escapes your lips, shaky and incredulous.

“Seriously?” you managed, your voice slightly higher than usual as you hold up the box—stil half-covered in the wrapping—for emphasis.

“That’s the next best option if you’re not getting laid!” one of your friends teased, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, burying your face in your hands for a moment before peeking back out at the chaos around you. 

The laughter continues, the jokes coming in waves. 

“Looks like someone’s trying to do you a favour!”

“Now you have no excuse to be cranky.”

You can’t help but laugh along with them, even as your cheeks burn. This wasn’t entirely unexpected; for months, your friends had made a running joke about your supposed sexual frustration. Anytime you were stressed or snappy, the solution was always the same: “You just need to get laid!”

Still, you never imagined getting such a gift from a secret Santa. 

Once the initial uproar dies down, you look around the room, trying to pinpoint who might have been bold enough to give you such an obscene gift. Your friends are still chuckling, tossing jokes back and forth, but as your gaze sweeps over the group, it lands on Daniel, seated across from you. 

Unlike everyone else, he isn’t laughing. His lips curve into a smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he watches you, unbothered by the chaos around him.

Your eyes narrow, suspicion flaring. “Daniel,” you say, your voice sharp enough to cut through the lingering laughter.

The room falls silent, everyone turning to look at him. His smirk deepens, and he leans back casually in his chair, his posture oozing confidence.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence. “I thought you could use something to help you… loosen up a little.”

The room erupts again, louder this time, your friends practically collapsing into each other at the sheer boldness of his comment. You groan, shaking your head, but there’s no hiding the amused smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, your voice laced with exasperation.

“Unbelievable or thoughtful?” he counters, his tone dripping with mock sincerity.

“You know, I should be offended,” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you?” comes his immediate response. 

“Still debating it,” you mutter, unable to stop the small chuckle that escapes.

The focus soon shifts as another gift is unwrapped, the group’s attention moving on, but your gaze keeps wandering back to Daniel. The box lies heavy in your lap, the weight of it grounding you in more ways than one.

It’s just a gag gift, you tell yourself, a harmless joke meant to get a laugh out of you. But your mind can’t help but circle back to him. Of all the things he could have picked, why this? And, more importantly, had he thought of you—truly thought of you—when he chose it? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, one you quickly dismiss with a shake of your head.

Needing a distraction, you rise to refill your glass of wine, letting the chatter of your friends fade into the background as you retreat to the kitchen. You’re pouring a generous amount when you hear the soft creak of footsteps behind you.

“You might need more wine than that if you’re trying to forget about my gift,” Daniel’s voice drawled, the teasing tone unmistakable.

You glance over your shoulder to find him leaning casually against the doorframe, his posture relaxed but his eyes watching you intently.

“I’m not trying to forget it,” you say, turning back to your glass. You lift it to your lips, letting the liquid warm you before continuing. “Just need a little liquid courage.”

“To use it?” he asks as he steps closer, his tone light but laced with insinuation.

You turn fully to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Who says I’m going to use it?”

“It’d be a shame if you didn’t,” he replied smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Your heart skips a beat at his audacity, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt, “do you want me to use it?”

His smirk falters for half a second, replaced by something darker, something unreadable. “You’re always so stressed, so uptight. You’d be doing everyone a favour if you did.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his arm playfully. “I didn’t know my lack of… cumming was a group concern,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

His chuckle is low, almost a hum, but his eyes never leave yours.

Taking a sip of your wine, you decide to lean into the humour of it all. “Thanks for the gift, though,” you say, your tone light, playful. “Maybe this thing will finally do the job, considering everything else I’ve tried has been useless.”

Daniel’s expression shifts, his smirk freezing as his eyebrows lift. “Wait, what?”

Your cheeks flush instantly, and you curse yourself for letting that slip. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking your head as you try to sidestep him.

But his hand darts out, gently grabbing your wrist and holding you in place. His grip is firm but not forceful, and it sends a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“You’re not getting out of this one,” he says, his voice low, laced with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

You groan, tipping your head back in exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m telling you, of all people, this.”

“Hey!” he exclaims, feigning hurt but a moment later, his smirk returns, though it’s softer this time, less mocking and more intrigued.

You bite your lip, debating, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. “It’s not voluntary, okay? I just… I can’t make myself, you know… finish. Not with my fingers, not with toys—nothing works. And I’m not exactly dying to hook up with anyone, either.”

His grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but his thumb brushes against your skin, sending another shiver through you. He’s quiet for a moment, processing, before he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Well,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave, “if that’s the case, you’d better give me a review of my gift once you use it.”

Without thinking, without hesitating, you fire back, “Why don’t you see for yourself if it works?”

The second the words leave your mouth, you realize what you’ve just said. His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something darker, more intense.

His grip tightens slightly, anchoring you in place. The air between you shifts, thick and charged, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve gone too far. But then, he steps closer, invading your personal space as his lips graze your ear. 

“Careful,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “I might take you up on that.”

Your breath catches, the weight of his words settling over you like a challenge. And for the first time all night, you’re not sure if this is still a joke—or if you want it to be.

The thought had all but left your mind as the night wore on, the air filled with laughter, the buzz of conversation, and the off-key singing of your friends as they belted out holiday tunes. You’d allowed yourself to relax, to forget about Daniel’s provocative words and the gift itself. The glass of wine you’d poured earlier remained untouched on the countertop—a conscious decision to remain completely sober and avoid any further embarrassment in front of him.

As the night began to wind down, your friends trickled out one by one, each hugging you tightly and thanking you for hosting. The energy shifted, quieter now, though still warm and filled with contentment. One of your friends lingered before leaving, her grin mischievous as she nudged you gently.

“Don’t forget about your gift,” she teased, winking. “Tonight might be the perfect time to use it.” 

You laughed it off, waving her out the door, but her words lingered, stirring something deep inside your chest. As the door closed behind her, you let out a quiet breath and turned back to the living room.

Daniel was still there, gathering stray glasses and stacking plates with a practiced ease that made your stomach twist. He always stayed behind to help, his presence in your space as natural as if he belonged there. 

The last of your friends were slowly trickling out, bidding you their goodbyes with hugs and sleepy smiles. It wasn’t long before it was just you and Daniel, the sound of clinking dishes breaking the comfortable silence.

In the kitchen, you were focused on loading the dishwasher when Daniel came up behind you, balancing a few more plates in his hands. His proximity sent a familiar jolt through you, a rush of awareness that made it impossible to ignore him.

As he set the dishes down beside you, the memory of your earlier moment in the kitchen resurfaced and you felt your cheeks warm at the thought, and you stole a glance at him. It seemed like that moment was on his mind too. His expression was unreadable, but the silence stretched between you, thick and charged.

Neither of you brought it up, though, working side by side until the kitchen was spotless. 

He wandered back to the living room right before you, picking up his leather jacket from the couch. But as he moved to sling it over his arm, his eyes landed on the box still sitting on the cushion—the gift, untouched and glaringly present. His head tilted slightly, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to speak up, but the words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I was told I should use it tonight.” 

The moment the confession escaped your lips, heat flared across your face. You busied yourself with fixing the cushions on the couches, avoiding his gaze. 

Daniel chuckled softly, the sound drawing your attention back to him despite yourself. “Is that so?” He picked up the box with his free hand, his movements casual. “Are you going to?” He asked, tone laced with intrigue. 

He dropped his jacket back onto the couch, sliding one hand in his pocket as he waited for your response. Your heart was pounding now, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why you were even entertaining this conversation.

Daniel’s smirk widened as he toyed with the box in his hand, his fingers brushing deliberately over the edge of the packaging. His gaze flicked to you, then back to the box, and with a slow, deliberate step, he started closing the space between you.

“What’s the hesitation, huh?” he asked, his voice smooth, teasing. “Scared it’s not going to work? Or are you scared it will?”

You shot him a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “I’m not scared,” you muttered, your voice betraying the slight tremor in your chest.

“No?” He stepped even closer, the vibrator box now dangling lazily from his hand as his eyes roamed your face, searching for cracks in your resolve. “Then what is it? You just like edging yourself, is that it? Letting yourself get so close you can taste it… then ripping it away?”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively shook your head, the heat in your cheeks spreading down your neck. “I don’t—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, taking another step until he was standing directly in front of you, the air between you thick and charged. “No?” he pressed, tilting his head. “You’re telling me you spend your nights wound up tight, desperate, trying to finish but never quite getting there?”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could think twice. “I need to cum. So badly.”

Daniel’s smirk deepened, his gaze darkening as his free hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for just a second too long. “Then you should use it tonight,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. “Get yourself off, let go for once. But…”

He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Maybe what you really need is another pair of hands.”

“Daniel…” you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure if it was a protest or an invitation.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the teasing smirk never leaving his lips. “Say it,” he said softly, the challenge clear in his tone. “And I’ll make sure you finally get what you need.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, time seemed to still. Daniel stood close, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, his dark eyes locked on yours like he was daring you to make the next move. 

You nodded, the motion small but deliberate, your lips brushing against his as if testing the waters. The faintest whisper escaped you, desperate. “Please, Danny, make me cum.” 

That was all it took.

Daniel surged forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck as his lips crashed against yours with a force that made your knees weak. The kiss was fiery, intense, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface all night. His other hand dropped the box unceremoniously onto the couch, coming up to grip your jaw, guiding your movements.

You gasped into his mouth as his tongue slipped past your lips, deepening the kiss. Your heart raced as Daniel’s mouth moved against yours, eliciting a hunger from within you that made your knees weak. His tongue teased yours, pulling soft, desperate noises from the back of your throat. 

Daniel’s hands found your waist, steady and firm as he guided you backward until the edge of the couch caught the backs of your knees. A gentle push sent you down onto the cushions, your breath hitching as he towered over you. His gaze, dark and filled with intent, flicked to the discarded box on the couch beside you. Without breaking eye contact, he reached for it, the tearing sound of the packaging loud in the charged silence.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers worked at the box with practiced ease, pulling out the sleek vibrator that gleamed faintly in the dim light. He held it up for a moment, his smirk deepening as he glanced back at you. “Strip for me,” he said, the words carrying a weight that made your stomach flutter.

Your hands moved instantly, almost on instinct, tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You fumbled with the waistband of your pants next, your eagerness only adding to the heat building between you. 

Daniel knelt in front of you once you were bare for him. His hands found your ankles, warm and strong, as he pulled your legs over his broad shoulders, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The couch cushions dipped under your weight, but all you could focus on was the way he leaned in, the heat of his breath just inches away from your cunt. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to your glistening cunt rather than to you. “So wet already… Were you this desperate before, or is this just for me?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. Your throat felt dry, your body so keyed up you could barely breathe. He grinned, clearly pleased by your speechlessness, and leaned in just close enough that his breath ghosted over your folds. The sensation made you shiver, your body straining toward him of its own accord.

His warm breath fanned over your slick heat, and you swore you could feel every word as he spoke. “You’ve been needing this, haven’t you? So worked up, so desperate to let go.”

Your mouth fell open in response, a soft whimper escaping as his fingers slid up your inner thigh, his touch featherlight but enough to make you arch into him. Two fingers came to rest against your folds, spreading you gently. The simple act, something you’d done countless times to yourself, now felt like an entirely new experience under his hands.

He dragged his thumb upward, deliberately brushing against your clit in the faintest tease, a mere suggestion of pressure that sent jolts of electricity racing through you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, a soft, pleading whimper slipping from your lips.

“Daniel,” you breathed, your voice shaky with need. “Please, I need to—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his tone smooth, teasing. His lips curled into a smirk as his thumb circled your clit again, just barely grazing the swollen nub. “Needy, aren’t you?” He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through you. “You’ve been so patient. Let me enjoy this for a moment.”

Your head fell back against the couch, your thighs trembling over his shoulders. The teasing was excruciating, his touch featherlight and agonizingly slow, keeping you on the edge without giving you the relief you so desperately craved. Another whine escaped you, and he chuckled again, clearly amused by your desperation.

“Do you know how pretty you sound when you beg?” he murmured, his voice low and rich. “But don’t worry. That’s what I’m here for. Me and this little gift of mine.”

Before you could respond, Daniel leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your core before his tongue dragged a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds. The sudden wet heat of his mouth made you gasp, your back arching off the couch as he pulled back with a hum of satisfaction.

“Sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he spoke. “Perfect.”

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, but there was no time to recover. He brought the vibrator into view, the sleek toy gleaming in the dim light. “Let’s see how well this works, hmm?”

He pressed the tip of the vibrator against your clit, still teasing, still maddeningly light. Then, with a click, he turned it on. The sudden vibration against your sensitive flesh was like a jolt of electricity, and you cried out, your hips jerking upward as pleasure shot through your body.

The sensation was familiar yet utterly foreign, amplified by the fact that you weren’t in control. You didn’t know what was coming next, couldn’t anticipate his movements, and it left you completely at his mercy.

Daniel pressed the vibrator more firmly against your clit, his eyes fixed on your face as he watched your reactions with a wicked grin. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re so sensitive, love. Look at how you’re shaking.”

Your legs quivered over his shoulders, your body trembling under the relentless stimulation. Just when you thought it couldn’t get more intense, his fingers returned, parting your folds once more. The wetness there made it easy for him to slide one finger inside you, then another, the intrusion smooth and deliberate.

You moaned loudly, your hands clutching at the couch cushions as the dual sensations overwhelmed you. The vibrator against your clit and his fingers inside you created a perfect rhythm, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“Daniel,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the pressure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter.

The vibrator hummed steadily against your clit, Daniel’s fingers curling inside you with a precision that made your back arch. The pressure built higher and higher, and you trembled, caught between the unbearable pleasure and the tension coiling in your stomach.

This was always the point where you faltered, the moment where the pleasure grew so overwhelming, so maddeningly close, only to slip away. Every time you’d done this to yourself, your fingers had failed to push you past that invisible barrier. It was like chasing a mirage, just out of reach, leaving you frustrated and aching for more.

The memory of all those failed attempts made your chest tighten. You bit your lip, your moans softening, and Daniel noticed the subtle shift in your body. His movements slowed slightly, and his dark eyes flicked up to your face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and commanding, yet somehow soothing. His fingers stilled inside you for a moment, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against your thigh. “Don’t go shy on me now. I can feel how close you are.”

You whimpered, your lips parting to speak, but Daniel didn’t give you the chance. His grin turned wicked as his fingers curled again, this time pressing deep against a spot that had your breath catching in your throat.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his voice low and filthy. “Dripping for me. You’re so tight, sweetheart—so desperate to let go. Don’t fight it. You’re mine to ruin tonight.”

The vibrator pressed harder against your clit as he notched up the intensity. The sensation made you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand, but Daniel held you firm, his grip possessive.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he stated, his tone dark and teasing. “Not until I’ve wrung every last bit of that tension out of you. I want to feel you shake for me, hear you scream my name.”

His fingers thrust into you with deliberate precision, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cunt. “You’re going to cum for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with sin. “And when you do, you’re going to fucking thank me for it.”

The vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your clit, and his fingers kept up their steady rhythm, hitting a spot that constantly made you see stars. Your body writhed on the couch, every nerve on fire, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“You like that, don’t you?” Daniel’s voice was a low growl, his lips brushing against your trembling thigh. “Being completely at my mercy? Taking exactly what I give you? That’s it, pretty girl. Stop thinking. Just feel me.”

His words broke through your haze of overthinking, and you let go, surrendering completely. The coil inside you snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

Daniel stayed with you through it, his touch unrelenting but steady, drawing out every wave of pleasure until you were left trembling, spent, and utterly undone beneath him.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs trembling over Daniel’s broad shoulders. The vibrator slowed but didn’t stop, sending smaller, teasing jolts through your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew carefully, and you whimpered at the loss, your body still pulsing from the aftershocks.

He straightened, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he lowered your legs from his shoulders, guiding them down to wrap around his hips instead. Rising to his full height, Daniel moved onto the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight as he hovered over you. 

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough as he braced one arm on the back of the couch, the other trailing down to grip your jaw gently. “Look at you, trembling for me. Completely wrecked—and I’m not even close to being done with you.” 

His gaze was magnetic, holding yours captive as his lips hovered just above yours, a breath away. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his hips brushing yours in a way that made you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him despite your exhaustion.

Your eyes widened as his words registered, your mind spinning as his intentions became clear. A fresh wave of heat pooled in your stomach, your body responding despite how utterly spent you felt.

“Oh, that’s right, sweetheart,” Daniel said, his lips curling into a wicked, filthy grin. “I’m going to make up for all those times you had to edge yourself, all the times you were so fucking close but couldn’t quite get there. That’s over now.”

He dipped his head, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw, his stubble scraping against your heated skin and leaving a delicious burn in its wake. His hand slid down your body, fingers grazing your waist before gripping your thigh possessively. “You’re going to cum on my fingers again, on my tongue, on my cock—over and over until you’re wrecked, until you can’t even remember what it felt like to want more. I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied, sweetheart.”

His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, his voice dropping even lower, rough with desire. “And I won’t stop until you’re a mess beneath me, begging for mercy or for more.” 

Taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart @alishamai @rendezvoushn

down bad | d. ricciardo

hypothesis - daniel is not ready nor is he willing to leave this thing behind.

pairing - daniel ricciardo x fem!baker!reader

[fic is inspired by “down bad” by taylor swift]

“fuck it if i can’t have us, i might just not get up, i might stay down bad”

“y/n,” your name slipped past his lips in a devastated sigh, eyes big as he stared at you. brown orbs drowning in a pool of tears.

a big, red suitcase sat on your bed, clothes haphazardly thrown around and you, sitting there on the foot end of the bed, messy hair surrounding your face and one of your favourite tops scrunched up in your hands.

daniel’s feet is glued to the hardwood floor by the door, his mind swimming, “wh—what are you doing?”

he looks around the room, your belongings, their familiar spots now empty. a sob escapes your mouth and you crumble from the edge of the bed down to the floor, ankles crossing and knees bucking up.

“i can’t do this anymore, daniel.”

his feet moves him to crouch in front of you, “baby, what are you talking about?”

you look up at him, “this,” you gesture around you with your hand, “the spotlight, the constant hate, the amount of time you leave.”

“let’s talk about it, yeah?” daniel asked, his voice hoarse. he’s swallowing at the lump in his throat, as he moves to sit down.

chuckling, you throw the top to the side, “what’s there to talk about? i’m a baker, i bake cakes, in a small town. and you,” you sniff and wipe your nose with the back side of your hand, “you travel the world, you race, everyone knows about you.”

he nods, “baby, i still don’t see the problem here.”

“i’m out of your league, i’m so far out of your league. i don’t fit into this lifestyle, i can’t flaunt money anywhere i go.”

daniel takes hold of your hands, “where’s all of this coming from, honey?”

you look up at him, and reach your arm back on the bed where you have thrown your phone after spending hours reading what his fans had written about you.

his fans, the people that would run to the end of this world to support him, that go to his every race to shout his name as he passes the finish line, the people he confided in the most when he started dating you.

“i can talk to them, disable our comments on our posts, hell, baby, i’ll even delete all social media,” daniel says, his eyes not leaving the phone. his eyes reading every comment twice and his heart swelling and breaking.

switching off the phone, you stand up and grap the top you had thrown to the side, “don’t bother, it’ll either way just get worse.”

daniel shoots to his feet, grabbing the things you had haphazardly throw into the suitcase and putting it on the bed.

he’s not going to loose you. he won’t.

“y/n, please don’t do this, it’s almost winter break, we can go somewhere private, just us. we can work this out, we will get past this,” daniel is practically begging, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he keeps on swallowing on the lump.

your shoulders sag, “daniel, stop,” you place the jeans in your suitcase and walk up to him to take his hands in yours, “find someone else, someone who fits into this life, who will walk it with you every step of the way. there are so many women out there who’ll be better and much more supportive than i am, and someone who can handle a bunch of teenage girls’ comments.”

daniel shakes his head wildly and grips your hands tighter, “no, no, fuck all else if i cannot do this with you. i don’t need someone else, God, i only want you. i am my best when i am with you, y/n, forget those fucking comments. remember what i said in the beginning of this relationship?” daniel’s hands moved up to cup your face, wiping at the wetness under your eyes, nodding his head,

“it’s us, baby, it’s us against all else,” his voice breaks as he said it. he bites his lips, the tears he was forcing away finally slips down his cheeks.

“i will fight, y/n, i will fight for us. i will fight for you. i will fight anyone who is against us, because, baby, i will not survive this night if you walk out those doors,” he moves to tuck those little hairs around your face behind your ears.

you nod your head as best as you can with daniel’s large calloused palms holding it. falling into him, resting your head on his chest and securely wrapping your arms around him, you believe him.

because, against all odds, you weren’t ready to leave, to leave everything you’ve accomplished together.

you weren’t ready to loose daniel. to loose his jokes, his comfort that comes with his presence, his laugh that made everyone in the room giggle, his hands that easily engulfed yours, his shoulder when you needed someone to lean on. you weren’t ready to loose that.

his chest heaved with a sigh of relief as he rested his chin on the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your shoulders tightly.

“it’s us against it all, yeah?”

with your face smushed into his chest, a mumbled agreement sealed with a kiss to your forehead is all both you and daniel needed to know that none of you were going anywhere anytime soon.

fin.

hello everyone! i am alive, and i am here to announce that i will slowly return to writing again:) it might take some time as i am so busy with my education right now (this happens when you study physics and maths lmao) but i have updated some of my f1 masterlist as well as the evermore one! hopefully in the next month, or before summer i can start drafting to post everything again! 

also, if you want to request something go ahead! this helps a lot with my creative process:)

love you!

y’all!! 201 followers, oh my gosh! and i only have posted one fic (yikes lol😬). maybe as a quick celebration i might take requests in for blurbs with some of the guys! i might to do this tmrw…

heyy, you haven't been active for a while ig, hope you're okay and doing well :))

hey!! thank you for asking:) im doing alright, actually probably the best i have in some years, knowing this time of year is a bit hard for me at times. i know i haven’t been writing much, ive been just extra busy with school and life but i promise i’ll try and start to write again… thank you so much, love! and if not this month, definitely in december i will post again:)

evermore masterlist (being written)

inspired by taylor swift’s album “evermore”

send a request for specific drivers and ideas for plot, request them:)

willow - no driver

champagne problems - charles leclerc

gold rush - mick schumacher

‘tis the damn season - charles leclerc

tolerate it - daniel ricciardo (trilogy)

no body, no crime - daniel ricciardo (ft. max verstappen) (trilogy)

happiness - no driver

dorothea - charles leclerc

coney island - no driver

ivy - max verstappen (ft. daniel ricciardo) (trilogy)

cowboy like me - daniel ricciardo

long story short - arthur leclerc

marjorie - no driver

closure - carlos sainz

evermore - max verstappen

right where you left me - pierre gasly

it’s time to go - george russell

hi guys! so i was just wandering, i'm currently writing a george russell based off a request and then would like to write one with charles based off "champagne problems", however i just had another idea. so, as you might've not guessed but i am a big fan of max and was wondering if i should do a series based off the album "evermore" or do random drivers for the songs of "evermore" (e.g. champagne problems - charles, willow - george russell, ivy - max verstappen etc...)? please lmk below!! thanks, love xx

btw if you'd like to see any of the ideas that im going to write in the future check out my f1 masterlist!

F1 masterlist

feel free to request for any of the boys below and any that i haven’t mentioned:)

evermore masterlist

max verstappen:

missed f(l)ights: in which max and his partner fall into an argument about commitment to their relationship before max’s flight to baku and there’s nothing more than the two of them wanting to be with each other (angst/fluff)

heaven: (coming soon) in which george russell’s girlfriend likes her good boy, however no one can ignore the bad boy who brings heaven to you (inspired by “heaven” by julia michaels) (smut/miscellaneous)

my oh my!: (coming soon) in which toto and susie wolff’s daughter catches the eye of rival red bull driver max and when night falls they can’t help but seem addicted to each other (smut/miscellaneous)

brother knows best: (coming soon) in which lewis hamilton’s adopted sister starts a relationship with red bull’s max verstappen in secret and tries to hide the boiling pot that is about to spill over in the 2021 season (angst/fluff/smut)

getaway car: (coming soon) in which it all started with one man, which led to running away to the other’s brother, however in the end, she can’t stay with either as it is too much (inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift) (angst) (ft. arthur leclerc and charles leclerc)

charles leclerc:

champagne problems: (coming soon) in which charles’ girlfriend cannot commit to him, even when his whole family and himself believe that everything is perfect and will stay that way (inspired by “champagne problems” by taylor swift) (angst)

getaway car: (coming soon) in which it all started with one man, which led to running away to the other’s brother, however in the end, she can’t stay with either as it is too much (inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift) (angst) (ft. arthur leclerc and max verstappen)

george russell:

high school sweethearts: (coming soon) in which george russell catches his old flame in the paddock, after a couple years) and wants to reignite a spark between them (angst/fluff)

heaven: (coming soon) in which george russell’s girlfriend likes her good boy, however no one can ignore the bad boy who brings heaven to you ft. max verstappen (inspired by “heaven” by julia michaels) (smut/miscellaneous)

arthur leclerc:

getaway car: (coming soon) in which it all started with one man, which led to running away to the other’s brother, however in the end, she can’t stay with either as it is too much (inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift) (angst) (ft. charles leclerc and max verstappen)

daniel ricciardo:

coming soon!

lando norris:

coming soon!

pierre gasly: 

coming soon!

missed f(l)ight║m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader (platonic: lando norris and daniel ricciardo)

requested: yes/no

synopsis: in which max and his partner fall into an argument about commitment to their relationship before max’s flight to baku and there’s nothing more than the two of them wanting to be with each other 

warnings: a bit of angst, argument, js verstappen (mentioned), hlmut m*rko (mentioned), softie!max

word count: 3k

The pair was silently driving in the dark. The silence wasn’t common and, even this time, it was uncomfortable too. 

Max tapped his fingers on top of the driving wheel, turning slightly to look at the silhouette of his girlfriend. She had her body turned slightly away from him, staring out at the slowly setting sun.

“Why aren’t you letting me come with you?” she asked, “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No,” he replied, “I just don’t always need you by my side, and anyways if the media sees you in Baku they will most certainly find out.”

“But, Max,” her eyes slowly filled with tears that were just sitting there, not escaping her eyes yet, “Why is it so bad for them to know? I don’t see a problem, I always go with you. I gave up a lot to be here with you and just, normally, to be in a relationship with you.”

Max could see in her body that she was still upset with him after their argument. She was an open person, wearing her emotions on her shoulder; he wished he could grab her hand that was simply sitting on her seat.

Neither wanted to leave on a bad note but it was impossible for either to speak up and admit their mistakes. Well, more so Max wanted to speak up and apologise- y/n did nothing wrong. His anger and stress took over any logical thought as they were arguing.

“Well, I didn’t ask for you to drop it all,” he accused her, “For all you want, you could go and do whatever you want.”

“Max, that’s not the point! The thing is that a relationship goes both ways, not one. You know that as well as I do. But I have to give up more in this relationship because you have a serious job and a big future on the line.”

“You give up more?” Max asked her, incrediously, “What other stupid accusations would you like to make?”

“Max, I am not saying that it’s bad. However, all I ask is that you give something back. I dropped everything so that we could spend more time together. You wanted it.”

“And so did you-”

“- Exactly, Max! That’s why I want to go with you to Baku but you’re just making stupid excuses for me not to go. What am I going to do here in the next few days?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Go shopping, explore the city, hang out with your friends-”

“- All my friends are back at home. You’re my only friend here in Monaco, along with the other drivers. And you all will be there in Baku!”

The car approached the empty aeroplane hangar, his private jet already waiting there, Daniel’s silhouette jumping in front of the jet along with Lando’s. He wanted to think of any words that possibly could help the situation they were in but he knew that no words would easily resolve their arguments in a matter of minutes.

The two McLaren drivers started waving at the car approaching them, Max reached out for her hand and gently wrapped his larger hand around hers. Instead of turning to look at him, y/n kept looking out into the distance; she barely reciprocated- just holding his hand, not squeezing it as she usually would. 

“God, y/n,” Max complained, “You have never moaned about missing a race so much before.”

“Well, because I always go with you and if I couldn’t I had a reason for not going! Max, I don’t understand why you don’t want me to come- last year, you invited me to every race last year…”

“And we weren’t dating back then,” he explained, “I just don’t feel comfortable with you being there and knowing my luck in Baku-”

“You’re not comfortable?” she interrupted him, surprised by his choice of words, “You’ve never said that before. Even when we started dating, you never told me that you ‘feel uncomfortable’. What’s going on, Max?”

“Nothing!” Max could feel the irritation slowly start to itch, “What do you not understand about that?”

“Well, because you’ve never behaved like this before. And I am worried that I did something wrong. We promised each other that we would tell each other anything that was bothering us, even if it might hurt the other’s feelings.”

“Will you please stop? I told you that I just don’t want you to come, alright?” he huffed, “Nothing less, nothing more.”

She stood silently in front of him, arms crossed with a broken, tired look on her face. She looked away from him as she normally would when she was feeling shy or not sure how to deal with something and her emotions; he could see the gears working behind her eyes, trying to solve his peculiar outburst.

Max slowly stopped the car in front of the two McLaren drivers, both seemingly excited by their trip to Baku, with their large smiles evident on their faces. Before Lando opened her door, y/n gently let go of Max’s hand; he immediately missed the warmth of her hand in his and the secureness he felt whenever the two would hold each other. 

Lando enveloped y/n in a warm hug, with Daniel following his driving partner, “How are you?”

She smiled at the two, “I am doing fantastic, what about you?”

“Excited,” Lando replied as Daniel nodded in agreement.

“How are you, Maxie?” Daniel asked his previous driving partner.

“Excited too, ready to kick your asses in Baku,” he faked a laugh.

“With your pace this year,” Daniel laughed, “I would not be surprised at all.”

“Is it so hard?” he asked her, “It’s just a week.”

She silently stared at him, “Okay.”

She turned away from Max, heading towards the balcony, his two cats, as if feeling her distress and sadness, followed her. He couldn’t help but feel horrible for what just incurred, he didn’t mean to be so ruthless and cold, ignoring anything that she said. 

“Are you coming with me to the jet?” he asked her, not expecting a ‘yes’.

Still turned away from him, she answered, “Sure, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, Daniel and Lando will-” he started speaking but she just left the living room, not listening to whatever he had to say after he said ‘of course’.

He called her name, “Hey, are you alright?”

She turned towards him, looking incredulously, “No, Max, and what does it matter to you? I don’t want to argue anymore.”

Max sighed, seeing that it was a dead end with whatever he might have wanted to fix after their argument. He wished he could apologise so easily and she could take him back as if nothing ever happened. But he knew that wouldn’t be the case, she was always kind and accepting of whatever he did, however she would always get a bit more sensitive when they would argue about what each brought to their relationship.

“So, we’re ready to leave?” Lando asked the pair, “Got everything this time with you, y/n?”

She laughed at his teasing, “No, not this time. I’m not coming, unfortunately,”

“Why not?” both McLaren drivers were surprised by her statement.

“Oh, well, I just have some friends coming over and, you know, haven’t seen them in a while, so I thought that I could spend some time with them in Monaco.”

“Friends?” Daniel joked, “We are your only friends, y/n. You’re so quiet that you barely even made friends with half of the drivers on the grid. Even with me and Lando, it took you at least a couple months to get comfortable.”

“Even with Max,” Lando laughed as he added on, “Before the two of you started dating, it was such a horrible, awkward period with you always saying ‘that we’re just friends’. And you guys had been friends for such a long time before.”

“Well, I just don’t tell you all about my life, then,” she tried to joke.

“But are you sure you don’t want to come?” Lando asked, “Luisa is coming on Friday evening, and both Carmen and Lily will be there and possibly, even, Charlotte. Why don’t you fly in on one of the later days? Even after qualifying, just make sure to be there by Sunday. ”

“I’d love to but I’d have to buy a flight in the span of next two days and it’d be so stressful to do something so last minute,” she told him, “Look, it’s fine. Hopefully, I’ll make it to Canada.”

“Hopefully?” Daniel piqued up, “You always come to any of the races.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll make new plans with my friends,” she laughed, “Now, I don’t want to hold you up anymore. Have fun, alright?”

“Thanks, mum,” Lando hugged the girl, “See you later then.”

Daniel hugged her as well, quietly whispering in her ear, “If you’re bored with your friends, call Lando or I.”

“Thanks,” she told him, “Have a safe flight, you two.”

The pair turned away to let the couple have their moment- to say their goodbye’s and ‘I love you’s. Max stared at the girl in front of him; she was gorgeous in the sunset’s light, looking at him through her beautiful eyelashes, even her eyes were glowing in the last rays of the sunlight. He had no words. What could he tell the girl in front of him that would save anything left of their relationship? 

“I-” he began before she interrupted him.

“-Look, Max, I don’t want us to fight anymore. All I ever would want is the best for you and I don’t want to stress you out or anything more, I want you to score P1, or really anything because you’ll do amazing and I believe that you can do amazingly, and now I will stop rambling because Lando and Daniel are waiting on you,” she stood up on her tiptoes and gave Max a soft kiss on the cheek, “You’ll do amazing.”

Max stood in silence, absorbing everything that she just told him, “Thank you, I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she smiled and took his car keys, “Have fun, tell the boys good luck from me too.”

She was the first one to turn around, heading towards Max’s Aston Martin. He stood there for a moment before turning around and heading to his jet, entering it to the already energetic environment created by Lando and Daniel. He put his bag onto an empty seat, storing his luggage over head.

“Do you want anything, mate?” Lando asked him, “Some gin? We can have a small party here before Baku!”

“I’m alright, just some water, please,” Max looked out of the jet’s window, eyes set on the Aston Martin his girlfriend entered.

The two McLaren drivers looked at each other, confused by their friend’s responses, “You alright?”

Max waved Daniel off, “Yes, everything’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked you, Max. Are you alright?”

Max stayed silent as he watched the Aston Martin slowly drive away. He knew the car would stop and she would watch them fly away, she always did so when she would stay in Monaco.

“You didn’t proclaim your love for y/n, or pepper her with a million kisses, or hug her until she’d turn red and push you away, or even tell her ‘I love you’...”

Driving the car slowly, y/n couldn’t help but feel the smallest of tears roll gently down her cheeks. She knew that if she cried all alone right now, she would be depressed for the rest of the week, eating neapolitan ice cream every night and watching sad romantic movies like ‘The Notebook’ and ‘Call Me By Your Name’. 

She slowly drove the car further away, ready to stop it when it was far enough from the plane, where she could watch the plane take off in safety. She watched the sky palette above her- all shades of blue, purple, pink, orange and yellow. 

The banging on the car trunk stopped her. She looked into her rear window to see a red-faced and out of breath Max banging on the trunk of his car. Braking the car, Max ran up to the driver’s door, opening it for her as she took off her seatbelt.

“Max?”

“Come with me!”

“Where to?” she laughed, shocked.

“To Baku!”

She got out of the car, “Max, what are you going on about?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all I said. I was wrong about everything. I can’t go without you. You have given so much to me and, recently, I haven’t returned anything and when I have the chance to, I don’t. I know that the second free practice finishes that I will be missing you and wishing that you were there with me. I don’t want to lose what we have-”

“-Max, I wasn’t going to break up with you,” she tried to reassure him.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to take the chance; I don’t want you to stay all alone at home, crying over me because you don’t deserve it, you shouldn’t be crying over me, unless it’s good. I want our relationship to last forever, I want to grow old with you and open your bookstore wherever you want- London, Paris or Amsterdam, or even on a quiet peculiar street no one knows of. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and that means when you come with me to my races, because I realised that without you I feel lonely, even if I have company from Lando and Daniel. I want to hug you everyday, pepper you with a million kisses, profess my love for you in any way possible and wake up every morning to your face. And I know we’re still young and that we only started dating this year, but I’ve known you for all those years before and you were still the most special person then. You were, are, like my family and I would never sacrifice you for anything; I’ll even give up racing just for you and we can both run away, away from everyone and find some cottage and hide peacefully there from everyone else. Because I love you with all of my heart and I don’t think there’s any more space for anyone else in my heart.”

She stared at him in shock. She knew that he loved her and that the same was applied vice versa but she never expected the words that tumbled out of his mouth. Max could see the small tears reappearing again and he started worrying.

“Please! Don’t cry!” he tried wiping her tears, “I didn’t mean-”

“-Max! They’re happy tears!” she laughed, grabbing his hands that were on her face, “They’re happy tears!”

“Happy?” the boy seemed to be scared to do anything after the tears fell out, “I-”

But before he could speak anymore, she grabbed his face and brought it down to her’s, crashing their lips together. It was a passionate kiss but not one to instigate anything more, instead to show the love that the couple held for each other. It was one where they could forget about everything and everyone around them and just enjoy the embrace of one other; pulling away was something neither wanted to but if they didn’t, y/n felt like her lungs would explode.

He rested his forehead on hers, “Will you come with me?”

“Max,” she laughed, “I have nothing on me right now, except for my own clothes.”

“I’ll buy you everything when we get there, tomorrow morning, any clothes, any bags, anything that you would need. Just, please, come with me-”

“-That sounds lovely but I don’t have a toothbrush or pyjamas with me which I would need when we land and get to the hotel-”

“The hotel will have everything, we’ll ask for a toothbrush, and you can just take any of my extra shirts and wear it to sleep in.”

“You brought shirts that aren’t your Red Bull polo shirt?” she joked.

“Hey! I have some style,” he huffed, pouting slightly at her, “Or I have an extra shirt of yours.”

She stared at him in silence, shocked and surprised by what he just said, “You have an extra shirt of mine?”

“Yes?” he suddenly turned timid.

“For what reason would you have my shirt, Verstappen? Makes you look like a creep,” she laughed.

“Don’t laugh! I just, well, I, you know, after our argument I was already missing you and I felt that I wouldn’t be able to sleep without you, so I, I,” Max stopped, slightly embarrassed by his rambling and what he was going to say next, “I took one of your shirts because they all smell like you, so I could have some piece of you at least there…” 

The boy in front of her kept surprising her, “You know, most people would find it absolutely weird but, somehow, my heart is melting at your sweetness.”

He blushed a bright red, a hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck, “So, will you come with me?”

“I just have one last question: why did you not want me to come with you at first?” she just needed to get to the bottom of this.

“I,” he hesitated, trying to find the correct way to phrase what he was going to say, “Well, there was a meeting with my father and Helmut about a week ago, just after the Monaco Grand Prix, and a couple more PR representatives. They started getting suspicious of the two of us after this article that leaked some pictures and they gave it to me to read. I don’t want to bring you into the world of media and newspapers; I don’t want them to rip you apart just because of my actions; I don’t want them to hurt you. I’m just scared that if I let them see you, they’ll break you and break us.”

“Max, I find it really sweet that you care so much,” she told him, “But we are supposed to be in this together. If we stand with each other hand in hand, nothing matters to me. Alright?”

Her hand cupped his cheek in reassurance, pecking him on his lips. He smiled back at her words.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I love you even more, Maxie,” she kissed him one last time.