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st4rg1rl-16 · 3 months

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━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ arabella talks about her past on her first appearance on drive to survive and attends her first formula one gala on melbourne

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ melbourne, australia

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ only cursing i believe

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I wrote the fic a little over a year ago when I started to like f1 so the first chapters sucks, this one specially it’s short and doesn’t happens much on it but it’s a start. It will get better and more dramatic, you will see 😮‍💨

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @burberryfilms @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg

• — need for speed’s masterlist

"ARE you nervous?" At the cameraman's question, the girl dressed in red looked up but didn’t raise her head.

“Why?” English slid across her tongue mixed with a soft spanish accent. Her accent was not as pronounced as the other two hispanic drivers, but if you listened carefully, you could hear it clearly “Do I look nervous?”.

“No, no, no, you look very good” The man was quick to shake his head at her, making her smile slyly.

“Damn right I do” The staff laughed at the girl's self-centeredness when she moved in her seat in a more comfortable position and looked directly at the camera raising both eyebrows.

The coordinator approached the cameraman and looked at her with a slight smile "Okay, Arabella. Are you ready?”.

Releasing an affirmative 'Mmmh' she straightened her back again. She placed her right leg over her left thigh and gripped her ankle, leaning forward slightly in the chair.

"Introduce yourself and we'll proceed to the questions, then you can leave" The girl, still a little surprised to find herself there, nodded and began to play with the silver chain that hung around her neck.

It had been five months since she had signed with Ferrari to enter Formula One and she still couldn't believe it, despite being in a room sitting in front of a dark background with thousands of eyes looking at her and cameras recording her as she told her story so that came out in a Netflix documentary like she was a rock star or something.

It was fucking crazy.

“I'm Arabella Torres and I’m a driver for Scuderia Ferrari” She smiled without showing her teeth and looked at the woman who would ask the questions, who made a gesture encouraging her to continue “I was born in Madrid, Spain and I've always wanted to be a Formula One driver. It's been five months since I've done it and, uhm, I still can’t believe this isn't a dream”.

“At what age did you start driving?”.

“Officially?” She asked and the director laughed while the interviewer nodded “At nine years old. When I was seven I was given my first kart, well actually it was for my little brother, Oliver, who is now a motorcycle driver, but he was very young and was more interested in Pokémon than cars. Anyway, I took over the go-kart and started racing 'illegally'” She made quotation marks with the index and middle fingers of both hands and laughed “I raced against other kids at the go-kart track that they put on at fairs every spring and summer in my neighborhood. Parents bet money against their children”.

There were several laughs and she smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

“When I was nine years old, my father signed me up for the Spanish Karting Championship. I won” She made a face of obviousness raising both eyebrows. "After that I began to climb categories. I won all the races. I remember thinking that it was very boring because everyone was very slow and it bored me, it was very easy to win.

“Is that why they call you 'Speedy'?” The blonde, brown-eyed woman shuffled some papers she held in her hands as she crossed her leg over the other.

She pursed her lips. "A narrator from the European Championship called me that. It was in... 2012, I think? I don't know. I finished the race almost two minutes ahead of the second driver, I was the fastest by a lot. I broke the international speed record for the category. I remember I didn't know what it meant because I didn't know much English at the time and I got offended when people started calling me that, I thought they were making fun of me”.

"Poor thing," she let out an empathetic laugh, "Of course, you were only twelve years old at the time and you had never left Spain, right?”.

“Never”.

"Do you like to go fast? As you said, they were very slow and you got bored”.

"I love going fast," She took a deep breath with a big smile on her face, "I feel the need, the need for speed."

“I feel the need, the need for speed!” They all repeated the phrase in unison making her laugh.

"Okay, let's see..." She bit her lip looking for the next question, as soon as she read it she frowned but read it anyway "What is it like to be a woman in this sport? To be the only female driver in Formula One?" One?.

A snort escaped from between her full lips, “That question….”

"How many times have they asked you this?"

“I haven't counted them but I've only been in Formula One for five months and I'm sick of that question already.” She rubbed her forehead and licked her lips before letting out a sigh. “But okay, I'll answer. Whatever” she shrugged unwillingly and the others laughed making her smile “As a child I had no friends. At school they didn't want to hang out with me because I was the weird car girl who sometimes skipped classes to go to competitions, even many of my teachers didn't treat me well for it.

The interviewer looked at her with her mouth open in amazement and Arabella nodded as if to say "It's true, believe it”

“They were angry with me because I didn't go to their classes because maybe I had a championship in a city 500km away and I couldn't go to school in three days. Sometimes they would ask me "Arabella, why are you wasting your time with that?" or "Arabella, you're a girl, that's for boys" and I would get angry because, who were they to tell me what I should do with my life? I thought "my parents have given me permission" and that's all that mattered to me, that my parents agreed and supported me” She adjusted the belt of the red jumpsuit and continued “As for Formula One, I'm not going to lie, it’s hard. Not because of the job itself but because of the people, all those people who criticize me for just being a woman and overestimate me as if I didn't know how to use a car, it's the most difficult thing”.

“Do they send you a lot of hateful messages on social media?”

She clucked her tongue with a wry smile hanging on her lips. "And death threats. I don't give a shit though– oh wait!” She ran her hand up to her mouth and wide-eyed looked around her “Can I swear?”.

The director along with her manager, sitting behind some televisions a few meters away, agreed with a laugh.

She sighed in relief and smirked, "Ah, so.....shit, I don't give a shit. People can say what they want, after all they're sitting at home and I'm the one being paid to drive a fucking Ferrari”.

She looked away from the woman and winked at the camera, the technician blushed and inadvertently turned the angle ever so slightly.

“Tell me about your family. How is your life now that you have got an eight million dollar contract? Because as far as I know, you didn't have a lot of money growing up, right?”.

She turned her gaze to her "Yes, that's true. My parents worked as cashier in supermarkets and we didn't have a lot of money. We had to sell the house because the bills and debts were piling up. After that we moved in with my paternal grandparents and lived with them for a couple of years until we moved to the coast to live with my maternal grandparents. It was difficult because we were eight people living in a five-bedroom house in which the only source of income was my parents. I almost never saw them, they went to work in the morning and came back at night. My grandmother raised me and my brother, that was when I was six years old.” She clenched her jaw and blinked several times, trying not to cry. Her family didn’t have a very good time as far as money was concerned.

She swallowed back tears and continued “When I started winning races, I started making money and with that I helped out at home. We could eat better, my grandmother was in poor health so we could pay for her medicines too, school materials and bills but still most of the money went on trips to the competitions so it was still a bit difficult to pay for things. When I started in Formula 3 I began to earn more money and paid most of my parents' debts, then in Formula 2 I paid my grandparents' debts and house and some other things to my aunts. Now that I earn so much money I have been able to buy a house for myself and I have bought another one for my parents. Now I want to buy one for my grandparents. I want no one in my family to lack anything, ever”.

The lady smiled sadly and nodded. "That's very noble of you. Is that your goal in Formula One, to take care of your family?”.

“It is one of them but not the main one”.

“What is your goal in Formula One?”.

She fixed her gaze on the camera, her face completely changed to a serious and determined one. "Win. I want to be the best, I want to be better than Lewis Hamilton, I want to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

"Do you think you'll make it?".

"Oh, I know I will." Her right corner rose pulling her full lips into a self-centered half smile. "Even if I have to die for it, I will."

“GOD, my tits are sweating” She complained while her fingers pulled on the corset, trying to unstick it from her skin so some air could pass through.

The boy let out a laugh that he tried to hide with his hand but she heard him. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Is this funny to you? I'm suffering”.

“It's not every day that I hear that someone's chest is sweating, sorry for laughing” He apologized but she ignored him by pulling at her clothes again. He looked her up and down, delicately observing how the long ferrari red skirt fit around her body, stopping right at her waist letting the corset of the same color expose the skin of her hip.

He wondered where the team's logo was, he had it on his jacket on the side of his chest but the prancing horse wasn’t on her dress.

Without taking his eyes of her, he licked his lips "If it's any consolation, I think you look very pretty."

“Wow, Leclerc” Immediately a flirtatious smile crept across her lips and he rolled his eyes “And here I thought you were going to be rude and not give a compliment to this beautiful lady”.

“Why give you compliments if you already give them to yourself?” He turned his gaze to the window and observed the streets of Melbourne without interest, without a doubt they were not as interesting as the beauty sitting next to her.

A silence filled the car, it wasn't uncomfortable but it was silence and it was killing Charles because he wanted –no, he needed– for her to say something. He needed them to keep talking because he knew that when they got to her gala they were going to snatch her from his arms and he probably wouldn't talk to her again until the next day.

"I think you're very handsome too." With a murmur she broke the silence. Playing with the rings that decorated her fingers and also looked out her window “The suit looks good on you.”

“Thank you, Belle” A feeling of warmth enveloped him and suddenly he felt that the suit was suffocating him. He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat “I heard you recorded with Netflix today, how did it go?”.

She turned her body, with difficulty because of her corset, in the direction of his so that she could better converse with him. She smiled slightly "It was strange?" Her laugh make him smile "I had never done something like this but I liked being able to tell my story and I'm eager for people to see it. I want them to know me for me and not for what the press says or the haters on the internet.

Giving her a somewhat sad smile he took her hand in his and squeezed it affectionately "I'm sure they'll love you."

"Thank you, Charles." Her eyes traveled all over his face as she responded with a grateful smile.

For Arabella, her relationship with her teammate was strange. She knew him from Formula Three but they never spoke because he was older and was always with the boys his age while she only had Mick and Lando as friends since most of the other kids didn't like that there was a girl in Formula Three, much less one that was who was kicking their asses. It was when she started in the Ferrari academy in 2016 that they were introduced to each other but they didn’t hang out too much since he was still affected by the death of his godfather, Jules Bianchi, and she was very focused on finishing her studies to be able to focus on her career better.

Eight months ago, Ferrari was beginning to tease that both would be the next drivers for Formula One, so their managers suggested that they start talking to improve their camaraderie and she couldn't complain, they had a good relationship but it was strange since sometimes there was tension and he had a hard time talking to her, sometimes he seemed shy or cold and that drove her crazy because she only wanted a friend, she didn't have any so being friends with her teammate sounded good.

While for Charles his relationship with Arabella was pleasant or at least it was until a couple of months ago, when he began to look at her with different eyes and he didn’t like that because it was dangerous for both him and her, they would be kicked out of Ferrari because the contract they had signed and Arabella would be massacred on social media, it would be a disaster. Of course, this is speaking in case she also reciprocated his feelings and they started a relationship, but it didn't look like that was going to happen at any time because his teammate didn't even deign to look at him for more than a minute, let alone look at him that way.

He didn't want their friendship to be affected by his little crush, he wanted to be her teammate and her friend, but unfortunately sometimes his feelings got the better of him and he didn't know how to act in front of her so things sometimes became awkward.

“Do you think the sponsors will like me?” Her question caught his attention, taking him away from her thoughts. He looked at her and for a moment he swore he saw a small, insecure girl.

He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and smiled at her "They're going to love you, like everyone else and if not better for me then”.

She let go of his hand, much to his dismay, and gave him a little push on his arm, making him laugh in amusement.

Suddenly screams began to be heard outside the car, drawing the attention of both drivers. Each one looked out their respective window, amazed to see fans crowded at the door of the hotel where the small gala for the beginning of the season would be held.

"We have arrived" The driver informed them, drawing their attention; they didn’t even remembered that there was a third person in the car.

They looked at each other. Charles took a deep breath, placing his hand on the door handle "Wait here, I'll help you down."

“There‘s no need...”

“Yes, there is” And with that he got out of the car, the screams increased.

The girl took a breath and began to play with the pearl necklace that decorated her neck.

“Hostia puta” Muttered to herself in her native language before sighing and putting a smile on her face. Holy shit.

Just in time the door opened revealing her teammate. He extended his hand towards her offering support, she looked into his eyes and nodded ever so slightly to herself before sliding her hand over his. As soon as she got out of the car, the flashes blinded her and the screams left her deaf for a few seconds until Charles began to pull her towards the hotel door.

She smiled at the cameras and let herself be carried away by the monegasque, who took her arm and wrapped it in his own before leaning towards her ear. His lips lightly brushing against his ear “You're doing so good”

Her body froze, why she suddenly had goosebumps?.

The brown haired boy walked away from her although he was still at a quite questionable distance and locked eyes with her. Arabella frowned slightly, getting lost in his green eyes so light that they seemed transparent unlike her own, which were assimilated to fresh grass.

What was happening?.

“Bella!” Daniel Ricciardo exclaimed as soon as he saw them, interrupting whatever was happening between them. The younger two turned in the direction of the voice, finding themselves with a small group made up of some of their fellow drivers.

“Danny” The girl smiled, letting go of her teammate to head towards the others. Immediately the middle child of the Leclercs felt a sting in his chest when he saw her leaving, but then was distracted when he saw something shining on the girl's lower back.

'FERRARI'

The team's name in capital letters danced with every step the girl took, written in sparkling gems on the skirt of her dress not far from her butt.

“Mon dieu” He breathed out through his nose, shaking his head. It was going to be a very long night. My god.

“I don't know if it's legal for you to drink alcohol in this country” The spaniard male looked with concern at the glass of champagne that was dancing between his compatriot's delicate hands.

"Don't worry, I asked Ricciardo and he said the minimum age here is eighteen” She pursed her plump lips in a smile and brought the glass to her mouth, finishing off the golden liquid in one gulp. She wrinkled his nose “Esto es un coñazo.” This is so fucking boring.

Sainz let out a small laugh behind his glass. “Yes, it is.”

“Ah, I know!” A gasp came out of her mouth and her gaze lit up, which scared the McLaren driver who looked at her with terror “We should escape”.

“No no no no. Don't even think about it, Bella” He left the glass on the bar where they were leaning while he shook his head repeatedly.

A pout appeared on her lips, painted red as her dress “Oh, come on! Please, Carlos” She began to fix the boy's suit as if it wasn’t perfectly ironed, she squinted at him “Tell me you wouldn't eat a hamburger from McDonalds instead of this fucking appetizers that feels like you're eating cardboard”.

He looked at her interested and she smiled, he was going to accept. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of the monegasque.

He looked at the girl's hands on the older man's chest and frowned. "What are you doing?"

“She's seducing me” The black-haired man murmured in english, earning a pinch from the girl “Oh! Hija de–“ Son of (a bitch).

“We were talking about going to eat something real and not this” She picked up a appetizer that was next to her with a disgusted expression before turning to Charles to look at him curiously “Do you want to come? It seems that Carlitos doesn't want to come with me”.

To be alone with her? In that dress of hers? Without thinking he answered yes and she stuck her tongue out at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“If you leave, you should go to your hotel, to sleep and nothing else” Carlos opened his eyes widely and set his tone in the last sentence, insinuating something.

"How boring," She twisted her mouth before taking 16's hand, taking him by surprise "See you, Carlitos. Have a good time, eh”.

In response, the older man gave her the middle finger to which she laughed before beginning to pull her teammate, who looked at the older man over his shoulder.

—Careful— Who with his index and ring fingers pointed to his eyes and then to them as if to say "I'm keeping an eye on you."

An hour and a half later they were both sitting on the hood of a Ferrari devouring some hamburgers while looking at Melbourne from a viewpoint that Daniel had advised Arabella to visit.

“Will we get in trouble for this?” Guilt had begun to form in the female driver’s stomach. What if they got into serious trouble for having escaped? Or worse, what if she got Charles into trouble?.

Even without swallowing his burger and with sauce on the corner of his mouth, he gave him a toothless smile “If we do it, it's worth it. Dieu, those appetizers were horrible”. God.

She laughed thinking he looked adorable, she looked down at the burger in her hands and took another bite.

“Don't worry, we already talked to all the sponsors” Seeing her still worried, he dropped the hamburger on his lap and took her chin in his huge hand, making her turn her face to look at him “We did our job. They will tell us nothing. Calm down, okay?”.

Since she didn't answer, he got closer to her and leaned his hand up to her, forcing her to look up at him "Okay?"

She let out an affirmative "Mmmh" finally looking into his eyes. And suddenly everything stopped: the lights, the noise of the cars, the air moving the trees, the voice of Harry Styles singing the chorus of "Lights Up" from the car radio. Everything, everything stopped and began to move in slow motion when Charles, cautious, began to approach her while her gaze began to run a marathon between her lips and her eyes.

And then everything exploded, everything came to life again at a speed faster than the cars they drives for a living as soon as their lips collided. As cliche as it sounded, Arabella felt fireworks explode around her as the hand holding her chin slid to her throat, Charles's other hand wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. The hamburger she was holding in her hands fell to the ground when she let go of it to bring her hands to the boy's hair, she let out a moan into his mouth when the hand on her neck squeezed in response.

They broke apart as her lungs began to scream for air, Charles resting his forehead on hers before tucking an unruly lock of hair that was covering her face behind her ear. She watched him silently while trying to catch her breath.

He smiled, kissing her forehead to which she let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "This, for this we can get into trouble."

She felt him pull her lips away from her skin and almost moaned in protest but she decided to shut up when he brought their foreheads together again and looked at her so intensely that she felt like she could see into his soul.

“If I get into trouble for you, it's worth it. You are worth it”.

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader

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leebitofficial · 1 year

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you weren’t scheduled to arrive in melbourne for another few days. you had planned to see hyunjin and the rest perform their second show in australia after hyunjin begged so incessantly for you to come.

that was, until their manager had called to ask if you could come as soon as possible. you were half asleep, taking your afternoon nap, when he called. so all you made out from his words were “hyunjin…migraine…sick…need you” and then once you had regained consciousness, “could you make time in your schedule to arrive in melbourne tomorrow morning?”

so you packed your things and then left on your way to the airport, bright and early at 3:30 AM.

hyunjin hadn’t been answering your texts or your calls for the last twenty-four hours and you had grown extremely worried. from what you heard from the manager, you hoped it wasn’t that bad. maybe just a small head cold, but hyunjin gets migraines occasionally and maybe this time he forgot to pack his medication, which could mean the worst.

the manager let you into his hotel room. it was dark, very little light pouring in from the full-glass balcony doors that looked as if someone had attempted to cover them with a curtain, yet somehow failed at such a simple task.

“hyunjin-ah” you call his name gently as you enter.

you walked toward his bed where he laid.

“y/n?” hyunjin whispered as he shuffled around in the sheets.

“what are you doing here?” he continued, while attempting to cover his eyes with his hand, almost as if he had been outside on a sunny day, shielding his sensitive eyes from the sun.

“your manager called, don’t you know?” you say while crouching to the bed’s height, now face to face with a sleepy hyunjin.

“oh”

“how are you feeling, angel?” you spoke ever-so-gently. your soft, sweet tone laced with sugar, with the beloved pet name you had given hyunjin early into your relationship.

though in pain, your words and your tone made hyunjin’s heart flutter and his stomach churn, a soft smile creeping it’s way up his cheeks.

“missed you” he then frowned with his eyes shut, his body turned toward yours. you began to run your fingers through his damaged- yet soft, bleached blonde hair.

“join me?” he asks, patting the empty space next to him on the bed.

you slowly stand from your previous crouching position before removing your bag and your shoes to crawl in next to him.

you crawl in next to your sleepy boyfriend, letting yourself become one with the sheets as you get comfortable.

he turns to rest his head on your chest, his fingers reaching underneath your shirt.

“and how are my favorite girls?” he asks quietly amongst the silence of the room, softly tracing your 7-month-pregnant-belly before leaning down to press light kisses all over.

“she wouldn’t stop kicking after you left”

“she must’ve missed me”

“she’s not even born yet but already such a daddy’s girl” you sigh.

hyunjin giggles at the pout on your lips and you couldn’t help but then giggle yourself.

“you’re ok, though? you question him, suddenly remembering why you were even here in the first place.

“i am now that you’re here.” he sniffles, failing to hide his illness from you.

a/n: i haven’t written a fic in years but i was inspired by a dream i had so i just went with it 😭

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz #hyunjin fluff #skz scenarios #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin #stray kids

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in-a-nook-with-a-notebook · 9 months

Text

Life Could Be A Dream

Franchise: Star Wars (but modern AU)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, modern!AU, implied smut (scratch marks on Poe’s back, hickeys, mentions of nudity if you squint), fluff, established relationship, mentions of Poe being an F1 driver, no plot really just a sweet morning with Poe, did I mention fluff?

Summary: Poe always gets cuddly after a race; the more intense the race, the more he wants to be glued to your side. Yesterday's race was pretty crazy, but you’re not complaining.

A/N: This is ridiculously self indulgent, especially with the breakfast foods (I am a slut for a good serving of pancakes) also the inspiration and the song mentioned is Sh-Boom (Life Could Be A Dream) by The Sh-Booms, highly recommend listening while reading; for some reason I imagine Poe being a Formula One racer in a modern AU so voila

You blink your tired eyes open with the sun peering through the curtains of the hotel room. It’s warm and welcome on your skin. A lazy smile drifts over your face. You stretch a little before curling up under the thick blanket again; it’s smooth against your bare skin, perfect for a morning like this.

You slowly roll onto your side, turning your back to the window. Your eyes land on your boyfriend’s sleeping form. Poe is snoring softly, his dark curls tousled and unkempt. He looks so peaceful. His broad back glows in the morning light, the duvet haphazardly covering the lower half of his body. There are faint red marks near his shoulders, reminders of last night. Even after the longest, most intense races, he still has some… pent up energy.

Careful not to wake him, you lean forward and press a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. You then silently slip out of the bed, tugging on a clean pair of boxers. You’re grateful for the carpeting under your bare feet until you reach the cold tile of the bathroom. You brush your teeth, considering you can taste how bad your morning breath is, but you don’t bother fixing your messy hair. You wash your face with cold water to wake yourself up a little more, padding it dry with a facecloth. You look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes sliding over the hickeys on your neck and chest from Poe last night. Your fingers ghost over them.

After leaving the bathroom, you grab a shirt from last night. It’s either yours or Poe’s. You’re not sure, but you don’t really care all that much - it’s a shirt either way.

You wander to the kitchen, thankful the two of you had booked at an extended stay hotel; full kitchen with a big fridge, living space separate from the bed area; lots of space for you and him to stay for a while. You dig through the fridge in search of ingredients for breakfast. The two of you went out for groceries a couple days before his big race in Melbourne, so you had everything you needed to make a filling breakfast; Poe’s always hungry after a night like last night. You are too, quite frankly. You grab bacon, eggs and milk and put them on the counter, lightly kicking the fridge closed behind you. From the cabinets behind you, you collect salt, baking powder, white sugar, and a small bag of flour.

As much as you don’t like packing heavy when you travel for Poe’s races, you’ve brought it upon yourself to have some essentials so you aren’t eating out all the time. After the first few races, you pretty much put together a travel kit of cooking/baking supplies and other things you guys would usually have at home.

You grab a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon and begin mixing the dry ingredients together. You snag a normal bowl from the cupboard to mix the wet ingredients with a whisk. You then combine them together and leave it on the counter with a dishcloth over it, letting it rise. From the cabinets underneath the counter, you grab two pans; one for the pancakes when they’re ready and one for the bacon. As you set the pan on the stove to heat up, you hear shuffling from the bedroom area; Poe’s awake.

The pan warms quickly and you start laying bacon on it to fry. The sizzling meets your ears just as Poe appears out of the corner of his eye. You focus mostly on the bacon, but you can sense his presence. His arm snakes around your waist and he pulls your back against his warm, bare chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you say with a smile.

Poe hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “Morning, baby.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log, but last night was amazing…” He nibbles on your neck a little, tightening his grip around you. You chuckle, bringing your hand down to squeeze his. “Bacon?” Poe inquires, changing the subject and looking down at the pan in front of you. His chin rests on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours.

“And pancakes,” you add, gesturing lazily to the mixing bowl.

“Mmm, I love your breakfasts.”

“You love all my cooking. And baking, for that matter.”

“Because you, mi amor, are an absolute god in the kitchen.”

“You flatter me, darling.” You reach for the tongs to flip the bacon strips. “I’m assuming you’re hungry. You’re always hungry.”

“For your food, always.”

“Flirt.”

“I’m just speaking the truth here.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Want help?”

“I love you, but you can just sit there and look pretty for now.” You turn your head to fully kiss him. “I wanna cook for you.”

“You always cook for me.”

“Yeah, because, no offence, but you can’t cook for shit.”

“I’m a Formula One driver, not a chef.”

“I’m not even technically a chef.”

“You might as well be,” Poe replies, untangling himself from you. “You are probably one of the best cooks I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And eating with. And, you know, everything else.” He kisses the back of your neck before stepping away to sit at the island, watching you fondly. “You sure you don’t want help?”

“Well, how about you set out the fruit from the fridge?”

“That I can do.”

As you get a plate out for the bacon, as well as a couple pieces of paper towel to catch the leftover grease, while Poe goes to the fridge. You feel Poe’s finger drag down your spine, sending a shiver through your body.

“Tease,” you murmur, looking at him over your shoulder. He smirks at you, blowing a kiss to you. “You wanna put some music on?”

“Absolutely.”

You transfer the cooked bacon onto the plate, then put more bacon on the pan. Poe shuffles around behind you, connecting his phone to the speaker.

Life could be a dream, life could be a dream

Do, do, do, do, sh-boom

A smile crosses your face with you hear the song and you turn to look at Poe. He puts his phone down on the counter. You both begin to murmur the lyrics under your breath.

“Life could be a dream. If I could take you up in paradise up above. If you would tell me I’m the only one that you love, life could be a dream, sweetheart, hello, hello again, sh-boom, and hopin’ we’ll meet again…”

“You look so good in my shirt,” he murmurs, coming up behind you again. He kisses your cheek, resting his hand on your hip. “I ever tell you that?”

“You’ve mentioned…” you reply, relaxing under his touch.

“I love when you travel with me,” Poe says. “Thank you for coming.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, my love.”

Poe gently takes your chin in his hand to turn your head towards him. He presses a deep kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, he has a piece of bacon in his hand.

“Impatient?” You tease.

“It’s bacon. I’m hungry.”

You laugh when he takes a bite and his face lights up. “You’re cute,” you remark. His face goes red and he dips his head.

“Shut up.”

“No.” You tilt his chin up with your finger, pressing your lips to his. “You’re downright adorable, Poe Dameron.”

“You’re relentless.”

“You love me.”

“I adore you.”

You smirk. “I know.”

Some mornings, the two of you have to rush around, packing for another plane or prepping for another race, but not today. Poe’s got a free day, and he intends to spend every minute of it with you. Even if it’s just swaying in the kitchen, teasing each other. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

A/N: I just wanted a soft morning with Poe and the song had me in a fluffy mood so I hope y'all enjoy this because I know I did! Feedback is encouraged and appreciated! Have a lovely day y'all <3

#poe dameron x male reader #x male reader #male reader #poe dameron #oscar isaac #oscar issac x male reader #star wars x male reader #star wars

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lovesickry · 10 months

Text

- the devil is in the details.

┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [1.2k] ┈⋆⭒ part 1 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ blurb: you knew him before he got famous, he got famous, you got a job. now years later, your job just so happens to be near him, but how will this fare on the way you left things years ago? .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ chapter contents: nothing, literally nothing .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ future warnings: will be smut. ( will probably be very filthy ). will be angsty, will be periods of niceness, maybe fluff but i’m a cold hearted bitch so. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ brief background: this is not a y/n story i’m sorry i cant do that. so its an original character her name is dylan tait, she was born in perth but lives in melbourne, okay mwah. this is based from the years 2018-2021, but there will be flashbacks, but i’ll try and make the timeline as easy as i can to follow. i’m not all knowing about formula one, yes i know things, but if i don’t know the real scientific names just shush. ty. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: his is a multi part fic and will probably be long LOL

present day: december 1st, 2017

you could feel your sweat slowly beading on your skin as you walked towards the mercedes building, holding the folder with all the things they said were required to secure the job. it was terrifying, absoultely nerve wracking, you’ve been to many job interviews in your life, but this one. this would be the worst, you were sure of it.

you were grateful as you opened the door and were hit with the freezing cold atmosphere of the waiting room, waiting to meet with the man who you had heavily engaged with over email, but never face to face. you sat there for an appropriate amount of town, recalling your rehearsed answers for the reasons you’d be good for the job etc, your experience, where you went to university, where you got your masters, your (acceptable) hobbies, how you work as a team, how you work individually. all the good stuff.

this calmed your nerves a bit and when the man opened the door and ushered you inside, shaking your hand introducing himself and gesturing to the folder of documents under your arm, you felt slightly more at ease than before.

the interview went as well as you could’ve hoped, he was impressed with your interest and experience in engineering at such a young age (27). you even managed to ease in your (slightly exaggerated almost) fluency in german, which he was loudly impressed with and responded “toto will love that”.

you left with a “thank you so much for this opportunity” and a “i’ll be in contact soon, thank you again”.

you couldn’t help smiling as you left, feeling proud of how you managed to not mess anything up initially. having a job in f1 being a dream of yours and working for mercedes. well shit. who wouldn’t dream of this. you’d applied for performance engineer, but wouldn’t be surprised if you got control engineer instead. the reminder that you were a woman in engineering applying for a widely male dominated area was a common unfriendly reminder, but that was honestly apart of the appeal.

“grace” you say

“GRACE grace grace grace”

“yes what i just woke up” she groaned

shit you forgot about time zones

“oh sorry, yeah, love you- anyway.”

you paused a bit

“I JUST HAD THE INTERVIEW AND IT WENT REALLY GOOD”

you heard some shuffling and then

“PMG SHIT YES I DIDNT. I FORGOT IT WAS TODAY, OMG FUCK YES YSS YES FUCKING MERCEDES FPRMULA ONE EMGINNER COMING THEOUGH HOLY SHIT”

“i know, i think i’m gonna scream when i get in my car”

“i don’t blame you”

“i just cant believe it, you know you have to fly over and visit me sometimes”

“hmmmm with what money dyl “

“i’ll literally pay for you once i’m a millionare, because you’ll still be my only friend”

“oh shut up”

“love you”

“i’m going back to sleep now, you’re amazing, have a drink or two for me, good whatever time it is there, you’re amazing”

“bye love you bye”

that was probably the cheesiest thing you’d done, admittedly, but what else does one do other than call their only friend on the other side of the world after a good interview.

——————————————————————————

3 days later:

there was still no response back about the job and honestly you were losing hope slightly. albeit finding ways to justify the belated response. because maybe, yes, you were being slightly impatient. but staying in london of all places by yourself, isn’t that much fun, you mainly just drank and took photos and than went back to your hotel, ( lamely ) reviewed blue prints of engines and aerodynamic rules or alternatively watched a documentary about the job you applied for. your days were blurry and you’d haven’t given much thought to the job you’d taken forcing the proximity of coming back into contact with your once good friend (complicated) daniel ricciardo until one night, after youd had your couple drinks and was on your walk home that his name “dannnnnniiieeellll🥸” illuminated your screen, the same contact name he set for himself approximately 7 years ago. you needed to change that, jesus. you didn’t really know what to do, but not answering at all was probably worse and you were drunk and hadn’t talked to anybody apart from grace and the interview man all week.

you pause your unsteady walk and swipe the screen and bring the phone to your ear, waiting for him to say something. but after he’s quiet for what felt like too many seconds you can’t help yourself.

“helllllloooooooooooooo”

“dan’el” the slur in your voice unmissable when you say his full name.

“hey” he says, flat and fast.

your swaying had been worse than you’d imagined when you’d brushed shoulders with someone, turning your head over your shoulder.

“oh, sorry”

“no problem love” tone thick with beer and blokeness.

the phone hanging at your leg brought back up to your ear to hear a small laugh, familiar and rhythmic and then.

“are you in london?” his first full sentence and the first multiple words he’s actually said to you in years.

“what how do you-“

“yes i’m in london” i give up

he hums in response,something you hated about him, the constant inability to shut up.

“why do you care” you say notebly less bitter than you mean.

“haven’t talked in a while”

“oh really”

you look at your messages, texts from you all left on delivered or read:

************ ************ ************ ************ *****

sun may 29. 2016

hey dan just wanted to reach out and say what happened in monaco was so unfair, i know your hurting you deserved that win. i’m here if you need.

july 1. 2016

happy birthday dan, getting so old

hey, tough day, wanna call?

sun. oct 2016

hey just finished watching, first malaysian win and against roseberg too, proud of you, !!!!

nov. 2016

i cant do this anymore, can you please talk to me?

i’m sick of this shit

dec. 2016

i miss you so fucking bad

(1) missed call from “dannnnnniiieeellll🥸”

feb. 2017

i’m gonna be in perth next month, can we please talk

(1) voicemail left

——————————————————————————

“yeah i know” he says, you can see him tugging his hair, frustrated, a small groan leaving his mouth

“okay im hanging up, i’ve tried talking to you, i don’t know what what you want” this isn’t fair for you.

“no- just- quickly- are you working at mercedes?”

you stop walking. what, how did he-

“uhhhh— no” you squeeze out, feigning as much honesty as you can.

“really?”

“hmmmmm” you pretend to ponder your answer

“goodbye daniel” it’s all you can muster up to say your self control nearly snapping everytime he speaks

“wait-“

you hang up, before he can squeeze another word in, before he can say anything that might bring back an inkling of what you felt for him, what you still feel for him. you can’t do it, not tonight.

(1) new voicemail from “dannnnnniiieeellll🥸”

god you need to change that name.

you’ll listen to it in the morning, not sure you’ll fully process it, in the state you are. you put your phone away, get to your hotel and go to sleep. thankfully.

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #f1 fic #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 2023 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #Daniel Ricciardo series #lando norris

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