#New motorhome trips

[no-144444]

red flag- o.piastri

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summary: you get in an accident on track.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader

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“Red flag, red flag, safety car coming on track to retire all cars, too dangerous out in sector 3, drive with extreme caution,” his race engineer called over the radio.

“Is everyone alright?” Oscar questioned, slowing the car, the other drivers behind him doing the same. 

“We’re not sure, Y/l/n crashed in sector 3 and hasn’t gotten out of the car just yet. We’ll keep you posted.”

What? You’d crashed and you weren’t out of the car yet? What the fuck? He knew you, he remembered what happened back in f2, back when you’d had the worst crash of your career and you jumped out of the car with a broken leg. Then, you’d at least gotten out of the car. Now? You were in the fucking car. Still. Minutes after your crash. 

“Race is off, conditions are too dangerous.”

Fuck. 

As he pulled into the pitlane, he jumped out of his car, following the other drivers to the briefing room as they all pulled off their soaking suits and damp helmets. 

They sat, waiting for news as none came through. All they knew was that you had to be pulled out of your burning car and airlifted to the nearest hospital. Which meant that you weren’t conscious when you got out of the car. Which meant fucking terrible things. 

Time passed and nothing really happened, so they were all sent back to their hotel rooms. 

“Hey Osc, you want us to come with you? We don’t want you to be on your own right now,” Logan smiled softly, standing at the exit to the McLaren motorhome. Beside Logan was George, Lando, and Alex.

“Thanks guys,” he mustered up some half-smile and they shared a car, then hung out in his room for a few hours. 

Oscar’s phone rang after about an hour, an unknown number. Usually, calls like these would go ignored, especially at a time like this, but something told him to pick it up. 

“Piastri speaking,” he asked quietly. 

“This is Oscar Piastri? Y/n Y/l/n’s emergency contact?” a female voice asked. 

“Yes, yes it is,” he blurted out, grabbing the attention of Logan, Alex, George, and Lando beside him. They held their breath. 

“Well, Y/n was in an accident on the track and she suffered extreme internal bleeding from a broken rib, one that broke during the early laps of the race. She passed out from a lack of oxygen, and crashed into the barrier at a very high speed, meaning that she has a few more broken bones and issues. We'd ask you to come to visit her, she’s been asking about you non-stop since she woke up.”

“S-she’s awake?” 

“Yes, Mr. Piastri, and she’s refusing to take any medication unless you come down here.” 

“I’m on my way,” he hung up the phone without questioning and grabbed his coat and shoes, as the boys followed. Oscar didn’t even bother putting on his shoes as he ran through the hotel and out into the pouring rain. Logan hailed a cab as the other boys tried to get him to calm down. 

“You need to slow down,” George soothed, getting a grip on Oscar’s shoulder. It was strange for them, seeing this much emotion from Oscar. He’d always been so level-headed, so calm. Well, it wasn’t strange for Logan to see it. He was there in f2 when Oscar started crushing on you, and when you two got together. Every summer break you three (and a few other ex-f2- current f2 drivers) go on a week-long trip, just to stay in contact, Logan got a front-row seat to Oscar’s devotion to you. It was sweet, and it brought Oscar out of his shell. 

“She’s refusing medication, if I don’t get there fucking quicker, George, so no, I don’t plan on calming down-” he cursed, brushing his hand off his shoulder. 

“Hey! That was shitty, apologise Oscar. Everyone’s fuckin’ stressed right now,” Logan called back as the taxi pulled up.

“Sorry George,” Oscar added and George nodded, unaffected by his comment. 

The car ride was tense, all of them wanted to get to you, needed to get to you. The hospital came into view, and the boys ran out, George paying the driver and following the rest of them into the foyer. 

“Oscar Piastri, I’m here for Y/n Y/l/n?” 

“Oh yes! Are you family?” the nurse behind the desk asked. 

“I’m her emergency contact,” he replied. 

“Yes, but are you family?”

“I’m her fiancé?” he answered. 

“What?” Lando gasped. “You two got engaged?”

“During the summer break,” Logan answered. “He was planning on telling you after today.”

“All her family is in another country,” Oscar explained. “I’m the closest thing- we’re the closest thing.”

The nurse nodded and handed them visitor badges, and led them up to your room. 

“You go in first,” George nodded to Oscar. “You’ve got this.”

Oscar tried to look positive, but it was difficult when the love of his life was in a hospital bed behind the door in front of him. He pushed open the door and when he saw you, he wanted to scream. Hooked up to machines, but you were awake and bothering the nurse about him. Who gave a shit about him? You were important, you were the most important thing on the planet. 

“Baby, take the meds please,” he barely whispered, but you heard it and almost cried at the relief. She administered the drugs and left you to be. Your engineer left the room to give you privacy, he’d gone in the helicopter with you and had been the first to notice something wrong with you during the race. 

Oscar listened as the nurse explained your condition before she left. They suspected that you’d broken a rib during the first few laps, but it had punctured your lung, and you’d passed out in the car. Then you went straight into a barrier at almost 250 km/h. You broke 3 more ribs, 5 vertebrae in your back, your right hip, your right leg, your left arm, and you fractured your collarbone, as well as all the bruising and cuts you’d gotten. He felt sick to his stomach. The nurse left to inform the others.

Oscar stood at the end of your bed. “What were you thinking? Why would you refuse medicine?” He asked, his voice tense but calm.

“I wanted to see you,” you shrugged. “I needed to talk to you.”

He looked up to see you. The bruising, the cuts, the bandages, all of it, it was almost too much. 

“I lost the ring,” you admitted, choking up. “When I woke up it was gone. I’m so sorry Osc-”

“I dont give a fuck about the ring baby, I care about you. I care that you’re alive, alright?” He sighed, moving closer to your face. “I’ll get you another.”

You started crying as you held him close. It was all too much, the pain, the stress, thinking about what would happen after you got out, wondering if you’d ever be in an F1 car again, it was too much. Oscar always seemed to calm you down, to settle you, not this time. You’d never seen him this stressed, no one had. It was unsettling, unnatural, and it made you more worried, it made you think more, and it made everything too real. Every sob that left your body caused another surge of pain through your back and chest, god, broken ribs were no joke. You kept crying and he kept holding you, pleading with you to stop because he knew how painful it was, and he knew you’d pass out, and he’d be alone again. 

You passed out in his arms and the nurses ushered him away and back to the boys. 

“How is she?” Alex asked, standing from his seat.

“She passed out,” Oscar answered. “She’s in so much pain.”

Logan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll pull through. She’s the strongest person we know.”

Oscar nodded as tears filled his eyes. “This is so fucking unfair,” he cursed. 

“We know mate,” Lando agreed. “We’re fucking livid.”

“Did she at least take the meds?” George asked. 

Oscar scoffed. “Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “She wanted to talk to me because she lost the fucking ring I gave her. Like I’d ever fucking give a shit about a ring over her.”

Logan chuckled softly. “Well, that’s your Y/n for you. Loyal.”

They all cracked a smile, even Oscar (kind of). 

“She’s going to be ok, alright?” George reminded him. “She’ll be back in that car in no time. She’s a fighter.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep going if she doesn’t,” Oscar answered. The weight of his confession sobered the other three to the somberness of the moment. 

“Well, it’s a good thing she’ll pull through,” Alex said. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[coco-loco-nut]

Forza Red Bull

Pairing: Max x Best Friend Reader

Summary: You have a big decision to make, stick with Red Bull or move to Ferrari

A/n: changing when the driver's press conference is for the plot. Thanks for the request!! I loved writing this

requests open masterlist

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It is getting increasingly harder to hide your trips to the Ferrari motorhome, where you are negotiating a potential contract. Fred has been talking with you the latter half of the season, just waiting on a phone call from you, one that you are reluctant to take despite it being an offer you can't otherwise refuse.

Your contract ends after this season and Red Bull is waiting until after the season to offer you a new contract, despite them knowing your requests. To you, Red Bull’s waiting says everything. They aren’t confident in you, and they don’t want you.

Carlos is leaving the Ferrari team, having gotten a better seat elsewhere. Most F1 fans believe Ferrari will be signing Ollie Bearman or Arthur Leclerc.

"Y/n, it's a beautiful day for racing," Max wraps his arm around your shoulders, fresh from a workout. The hot Abu Dhabi air doesn't help the sweat.

"Ew, Max, get off of me, you smell," you gag for the added effect.

"I'm wounded, my own teammate and best friend?" Max places his hand over his heart.

"Go shower than we can talk. I stopped dealing with sweaty Max after karting," you shove him off of you. Max rolls his eyes, heading to shower while you beeline for coffee.

Your heart hurts while greeting the staff you have grown to love since you joined the team in 2021. Hannah sits down beside you.

"How are you feeling today?" she asks, handing you a pastry.

"Good, I think I have a shot at winning today, hopefully with your brilliant strategy I will," you smile hopefully, one that drops as you see her cringe a little.

"About that, Christian wants you to defend," Hannah tells you, you can feel the anger building. You have been so close to beating Max last year and the championship is just within your grasp, you need this win. You should've known better, you were brought onto the team for your ability to defend. She shouldn’t even be warning you about Christian’s strategy, but she has a soft spot for you as a friend.

"Hannah, please," your eyes beg her to give you the better strategy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," she whispers, the one person on pit wall you thought that was on your side other than your race engineer. You swallow your pride and nod, looking away.

"Understood, I'll defend," you say after a second.

"You are a wonderful teammate and driver, Max is lucky to have you," her comforting words fall flat. Max. Your best friend and fiercest competition.

"I have to go to the press conference," you say, standing up and walking away.

"Y/n? Everything okay?" Pierre asks, you two weren't close, but you were a part of a group chat for drivers who are traumatized by Red Bull, one that you had often joked that you don't belong in. Now you know why Daniel added you.

"Red Bull," you huff angrily.

"I'm sorry," Pierre doesn't know why he's apologizing, but he can certainly empathize with you. The two of you walk to the conference together. You weren't close with Pierre, but you aren't enemies either.

You receive the first question of the conference.

"Y/n, you've been strong in free practice and qualifying. How are you feeling going into today, knowing that these are crucial points in your battle with your teammate, Max? Especially since you were in this position last year," the interviewer asks.

"Wow, starting off strong. Um, yeah, the car has felt great all weekend, I feel great going into today. It's always so much fun to race with Max, something I've had the privilege to do since we were karting together. Max got the win last year, so I hope I can secure it for myself this year," You say, hoping that satisfies the question. It does, at least until the journalists.

"How is Red Bull handling the driver situation, seeing that you and Max are both fighting for a championship," the journalist asks.

"Obviously the team wants us both to succeed, they will have a winner either way. I'm really glad to be with a team that supports both of us that way," you lie through your teeth, knowing that Christian wants Max to win. There is a reason that the Red Bull PR team loves you doing press conferences. You can feel Pierre, Carlos, and Daniel looking at you, knowing that you are likely lying, they just aren't sure which part.

"Good luck today, Y/n, if someone is going to beat me, I want it to be my best friend. If it isn't this year, I know you will take next year's Red Bull to the top," Max hugs you. Your anger dissolves for a moment, you aren't mad at him. He makes a great point, you already have a great relationship with Red Bull, you love it here, even if Christian makes you mad sometimes. Ferrari is, well, Ferrari. The car isn't as good and the strategy is lacking. You are smart, you know Red Bull is the better team, and Christian can't ignore your ability after this season.

"Thank you, Maxie. I hope you lose," he can't help but to laugh with you. You go into your driver's room to text your agent, letting them know which team you chose.

"Y/n, are you sure?" She asks over the phone, calling you immediately.

"I am," your agent agrees to let both teams know, only asking you to call her after the race.

You get ahead later in the race, wheel to wheel with Max as you battle for P1. You know Red Bull isn't going to show their hand that they want Max to win yet.

Y/n, let Max overtake

The instructions flow through your earpiece, you push harder.

No. Max can take the win from my cold dead hands. That's a team order, Y/n I don't give a shit. Tell Christrian and Hannah to fuck off.

Max is a bit confused why you aren't letting him pass, GP told him he was getting the overtake, but he respects you wanting to fight. You ignore your engineer trying to get you to follow team directions.

Y/n, I'm saying this as your friend, your race engineer for the past 3 years. Max has the faster pace, you have to let him pass before you end up in a crash

You hold back the tears in your eyes, as you watch Max slide in front of you, taking P1.

It's not fair. I know, keep fighting. We will get it next season. I will hold you to that. Red Bull owes me that much.

You keep your helmet on after the race, not letting the cameras see you cry. Max immediately finds you after weigh-ins.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they were going to do that," Max says, pulling you into a hug.

"I knew. Hannah told me this morning," you do your best not to take your anger out on him.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've fought for you, you're my best friend," Max asks, confused.

"I didn't want you to throw your race for me,"

"This isn't happening next year, I will make Christian understand that. You fought so hard for the win, you deserved it," Max tells you and you nod.

"I know, I'm negotiating it into my contract. I have to go pee and make it look like I wasn't crying. I'll see you in a minute," you tell Max, purposefully being ambiguous like you have the past couple months, going into the private bathroom to make the quick call, getting your phone from your assistant.

"You have the green light to announce your contract," she says before you hang up. You subtly give your phone back and head to the podium.

"That was one hell of a fight, is Red Bull mad at you for ignoring team orders, even though you did give up the spot?" You are asked after the podium by Sky Sports.

"Probably, not that it matters much now since it was the last race of the season," you shrug.

"You have yet to announce your contract renewal with Red Bull, will you be negotiating the team orders part?" Another asks.

"Yeah, I will be making sure any future contracts don't allow something like today to happen again. Red Bull has been waiting because of my salary increase. Which is why I will be joining Scuderia Ferrari next season," you say, dropping the bomb. You had been tempted to say Forza Ferrari over the team radio.

Max looks at you in disbelief and hurt. You don't comment after that, electing to leave the room and go back to your driver's room. Charles nods supportively at you, having been informed already about his new teammate.

"Y/n, open the door," you hear Max's voice on the other side a few minutes after you change.

"Max, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I made the decision minutes before the race," your voice cracks a little.

"How long have you been talking to them?"

"Since after summer break,"

"Damn it! Why didn't you tell me, I could've helped you," Max looks utterly broken.

"Because you needed to focus on your racing. Even if I stayed things would be good for a few races then they would go back to how they are now. Red Bull will always choose you. I'm not mad at you for it, please know that," you plead a little as Max pulls away from you.

"You knew you were changing teams for half of the season and didn't tell me. You are going to our rival. You are supposed to be my best friend,"

"I am your best friend, Maxie, I wasn't allowed to say anything,"

"Don't call me that, I can't be friends with someone who doesn't trust me," Max gets up and leaves.

"Max! Max, please come back," you cry, a hole in your heart. You leave the paddock discreetly and go back to your hotel room. Usually, you'd be celebrating with Max, but now you don't know what to do. There is a knock on your door, you hope it's Max,

Daniel, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos, and Alex stand at your door with wine, a cake that reads 'Fuck Red Bull' and another that reads 'The real WDC winner'.

"Max is a dickhead," Daniel offers as you let them into your room. Despite Daniel's good relationship with Christian, he knows right from wrong.

"Thanks, guys. How did you even get cakes like this last minute?" you say, happy to celebrate with them.

“It’s a secret,” Yuki smiles secretively.

"Sorry, Y/n, you deserved the win. I'm glad you are taking my seat at Ferrari," Carlos says, patting your shoulder.

"Let's get drunk, eat cake, then go to the club," Pierre suggests, a plan that you all quickly agree to. Yuki and Alex show you the massive support you are receiving online and the backlash Red Bull is getting. It is comforting, you just wish your best friend was here.

Twitter has a field day with the squad you roll up to the bars with, but they all ask the same question, where's Max. It takes until testing for you to comment on it.

"You shocked the world after announcing a move to Ferrari not long after being forced to lose the world championship. Any harsh feelings towards Max Verstappen following last year's drama?" you are asked right away.

"None. Other drivers might be mad or take it out on the track, but at the end of the day, it wasn't his call, it was Red Bulls. Obviously, it sucks to lose someone who was your best friend, but everything happens for a reason. I can't wait to drive equally with my teammate and have the Tifosi support," you say, catching Max watching you out of the corner of your eye. He is obviously still upset. You ignore him, he can find you when he is ready to apologize.

"If she had told me what she was planning on doing, maybe we would be friends still, but I can't be friends with people who lie to me and are traitors," Max says when asked for his opinion. Max only apologized after you won the season with Ferrari, you think it was because Charles and Daniel forced him to. You are just happy to have your friend back.

[chilling-seavey]

Formula 1 Masterlist

♡ Welcome to my Formula 1 masterlist! Here, we will explore and create universes together - straying far from the pit lane we know all too well to, instead, journey through new realities ♡ Comments are always incredibly appreciated and please feel free to send in questions or ideas or asks so I can write some blurbs and help keep these universes thriving! Happy reading!

George Russell

Enchanté ↳ On a brief business trip to Paris, you find yourself enamoured with this handsome stranger and the fleeting promises he offers in the city of love Desiderio ↳ It's been a year since Paris. A year since you've seen George. In the middle of the storm of a century, in another foreign city, fate sometimes works in mysterious ways.

Blue Moon Motel ↳ George has decided that his affair with you needs to end but he takes you out for one last night before saying goodbye.

Don't Worry Darling ↳ Married and thriving in an idealised community based on routine, gender roles, and arguable paradise, you and George seem to be just as perfect together as the utopia you live within - but not everything is as it seems on the surface.

Love Thy Neighbour PART ONE PART TWO ↳ It’s the end of summer 1984 and you and your perfect little family move into a quaint suburban neighbourhood to escape the hustle and bustle of the Manhattan lifestyle. Your next door neighbours are a picture-perfect family of their own - or so it seems from the outside. But, as you spend more and more time with the handsome husband, the cracks in your own marriage start to come to light.

Little Bit of Luck ↳ You fly to Bahrain to surprise George before the first race of the season, giving him a bit of good luck in his driver's room before lights out.

Silence of the Mountains ↳ George decides to rent a motorhome for the Austrian Grand Prix weekend like some of the other drivers do; he's sure it'll make everything so much more convenient. Sharing the space with his trainer might be beneficial for work but certainly not when it comes to taming your insatiable appetite.

In The Middle - feat. Pierre Gasly ↳ The summer of 1985 had your time filled with two handsome men who, with each, you had a non-exclusive friends-with-benefits relationship. They were completely unaware of the other’s existence in your life but that’s what added to the thrill. Once you faced a few close calls where they almost discovered your cheeky little secret, you decided to lay all your cards on the table and see if you could have the best of both worlds on the same night.

The Patriarchy ↳ Of course George is a feminist; but who is he to deny you when sometimes you just want him to treat you like his property.

What He Deserves ↳ George just won in Monaco and there's only one way he wants to celebrate. You wouldn't dream of saying no to his request; not when he deserved the world, and more.

Confessional ↳ George is the golden boy of the congregation and can do no wrong as the pastor’s son and purest of heart, body, and soul. You find yourself fantasizing about ruining each other's purity more than anything, although little do you know, after an unexpected fess up in the confessional booth, he’s not as innocent as meets the eye

Lessons in Love and Other Ilicit Desires (Multi-Chapter Novel) ↳ Sensible, wise, and a hopeless dreamer, Rosaline was used to men not giving her a second glance. She soon discovered it was merely those mundane college boys who were nothing more than simply intimidated by her intellect. What she needed was a man — someone who could impart knowledge beyond the Classics and guide her in discovering her own confidence as a woman. The thrill of sneaking around with the ever-so-charmingly handsome Professor Russell was certainly a bonus.

The Way It Goes (Slice of Life Blurbs) ↳ A collection of stand-alone blurbs centered around George and his growing little family in which I can use their world to purge my domestic George thoughts and daydreams.

Lando Norris

Nothing Looks the Same in the Light - feat. Oscar Piastri ↳ "I watch you breathe, I cannot sleep. I touch your hair, I kiss your skin, and hope the morning sun won’t wake you too soon [...] Nothing looks the same in the light. Only a fool like me would take to heart the things you said you meant last night."

Dreamland (Mini Series) ↳ As a flunking university student in dreary Bristol, Lando is sure there’s another life waiting for him elsewhere. A life that he can only dream of living with the girl with a million dollar career, verified instagram, and a stunning smile that he swears was created for him. But maybe those dreams stray no farther than his phone screen.

Pierre Gasly

Even out of View (WW1 Drabble) - feat. Esteban Ocon ↳ It's 1916. They were supposed to be fighting for their country, but now, with the world in peril, Esteban was to be treated as the enemy by his own people. Pierre is Esteban's nightwatch before he is executed for treason.

In The Middle - feat. George Russell ↳ The summer of 1985 had your time filled with two handsome men who, with each, you had a non-exclusive friends-with-benefits relationship. They were completely unaware of the other’s existence in your life but that’s what added to the thrill. Once you faced a few close calls where they almost discovered your cheeky little secret, you decided to lay all your cards on the table and see if you could have the best of both worlds on the same night.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Hi hope it’s not to late to request a yandere vampire Ace who finds out his mortal darling is pregnant ~ please (if pregnancy makes you uncomfortable maybe reader is just very ill instead ) ,also hi hope your doing ok 👌

Vampire Ace x AFAB Reader

3.8k words

Summary: You find yourself in a precarious situation as you discover you're pregnant with your vampire boyfriend's child. You know you need to talk to him about it, but how?

Warnings: pregnancy, menstruation mention, lightly suggestive references, yandere elements, controlling boyfriend

While it was most certainly embarrassing to admit to, you had a vampire phase as a teenager. You got swept up in the popularity of vampire romance novels and the movies and TV shows that accompanied them, and it was pretty much your entire personality for a few years there. 

Dark times. Cringey times. 

However, these were also very impressionable times if your current situation was anything to go off of. If anyone would have told you back then that you would one day achieve your dream of bewitching a vampire into falling in love with you, you would have laughed in their face. Well, okay, no. You would have squealed and kicked your feet in the air. But after you got past that phase, then you would have laughed. Mostly because up to that point, you had been under the impression that vampires were works of fiction.

But then you met Ace. It happened when you were on a solo road trip. You needed some time away from everything and wanted to start fresh somewhere new, so what better way to scope out a new place than to drive around the country until you found a place that spoke to you? It seemed like a good idea, and by most accounts it was, but there was one major flaw in your plan. You didn’t know how to perform maintenance on your car, which is a pretty glaring issue when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere at night. You had no signal, so you were left poking and prodding at the stuff under the hood of your car in hopes that it would magically come back to life. 

It didn’t take long for you to give up and realize that you were probably only going to do more harm than good. You considered walking until you either found a town or got a signal, but you didn’t want to do that at night. Just as you were about to get back into your car to sleep until morning, you saw the headlights of a vehicle coming down the road. You waved your arms as the vehicle, a large motorhome, drew closer. Honestly, you hadn’t expected the person to actually pull over, but he did, and that’s how you met Ace.

One thing led to another, and he went from being just some guy who helped you out in your time of need, to your boyfriend. It was something of a whirlwind romance, moving at a startling pace that would surely leave your parents clutching their pearls, but when you know you know.

That, and there’s just something about someone trusting you enough to admit to being a creature of legend that makes one’s heart flutter.

Ace was a far cry from the vampire love interests you read about as a teen. Rather than living in a gothic castle in the countryside, or skulking around a high school, he lived in an old RV that he traveled the country in. It was an interesting set up, that’s for sure. All of the windows are covered by several layers of thick curtains. The windshield also had a cover put up during daylight, as well as several thick curtains isolating the cab from the rest of the camper. He would drive and explore at night, then retreat into the darkened parts of the RV during the day.

Thanks to you adapting to his nocturnal lifestyle, you would usually be up all night with him while he drives and sleep with him during the day. From what you understood, he didn’t really need to sleep, but he claims that it feels nice and he likes to do it anyway. Despite that, you would usually wake up to find him absent from the bedroom and entertaining himself in the main part of the camper while he waited for you to wake up or for night to come, whichever came first.

However, sometimes you would find yourself driving during the day. Mostly when there was something time sensitive that Ace wanted to go to and if you guys were falling behind; a common occurrence with how much he loved to take his time exploring every place he went. When that happened, you would stay up during the day to drive while he hid away in the bedroom. These days were spent with him loudly bemoaning how terrible and crushing the loneliness was as if y’all were separated by miles and he wasn’t actively facetiming you. Being highly dramatic was perhaps his most stereotypical vampiric trait.

Today was one of those days where you were up driving for him. There was a music festival coming up this weekend that he really wanted to go to, but it was still several states away. You honestly don’t mind the day driving. It’s nice to get natural vitamin D instead of relying exclusively on supplements. Ace had been keeping you company via facetime for a few hours, but he had nodded off about an hour ago.

Having a moment to yourself was nice, doubly so when you have a lot on your mind. You made a very shocking discovery recently, one that you hadn’t thought was ever going to be a problem for you. Though, maybe that was because you weren’t exactly an expert on vampires and how their bodies work.

Because really, how were you supposed to know that pregnancy was on the table when you were seeing a vampire? Sure, some of those vampire shows and books covered this, but it was always treated like something that could never ever happen, and that if it did, it was a freak incident. 

The relationship was still very young, neither of you had ever discussed children. You were still young, and you assumed that him not using any protection was a silent indicator that you didn’t have anything to worry about. Surely he would have used it or talked to you about contraception if it was something he was concerned about, right? Wrong, apparently. 

As far as you could tell, you were only around six or so weeks into your pregnancy if your period tracker was accurate. You haven’t been able to go to a real doctor yet, but the pregnancy tests you took all came back positive. The tests were stuffed into the same drawer you kept your menstrual supplies in after you had finished having a silent mental breakdown. You still needed time to figure out how to break the news to Ace.

Would he be happy? Pissed? Would he freak out because the hybrid baby will be a superpowered freak of nature that will kill you? You had literally nothing to work with. Since you two have never discussed children, he’s also never told you about what a hybrid could potentially look like, and that was just you assuming that he knew. You were completely in the dark, and it was terrifying. You needed reassurance, but you had no one to get it from.

You heave a sigh as you shake your head and force yourself back into the present moment. There was an exit coming up on the interstate advertising the local amenities. A quick glance down at the fuel gauge confirmed that it was about time for you to stop and get gas. The turn signal is flicked on as you merge into the exit only lane. 

It only takes a couple of minutes for you to navigate your way to the nearby gas station and park at a pump. Your phone starts to ring before the RV has even come to a complete stop. You shift it into park and turn the engine off before answering.

“Is everything alright? Why are we stopping?” Ace’s sleep-addled voice came through the phone.

“Everything’s fine, we just needed gas. I’m going to run into the station to use the bathroom and maybe get an energy drink.” You stretch as you stand up, holding your cell between your shoulder and ear as your joints crackle and pop after spending hours seated.

“Are you getting tired? Just find a place for us to park until night, don’t force yourself to stay awake.” 

His consideration for you made your chest feel warm and fuzzy despite your anxiety. “I don’t mind, I know you’ve been looking forward to that festival.”

“It’s just a festival, there will be more of those. There’s only one of you, I don’t want you getting burnt out or hurt because of me. Just find a place to park, okay?” His words were sweet, but his tone left no room for debate.

A quiet sigh escapes you as you admit defeat, “Alright, I’ll ask the cashier if there’s a campground or something around here.”

“Good. Besides, I’ve been missing you. I don’t think I can wait until night to see you again.” His playful, flirty tone makes you smile.

You giggle softly as you make your way to the door, “I miss you, too, baby. See you in a bit, love you.”

“I love you more. Could you close the cab curtain before you go?”

“Of course,” You quickly spin on your heels and pull the dividing curtains shut. After one last exchange of “I love you’s”, you hang up and exit the RV. The fresh air, even while tinged with the scent of fuel, is pleasant after being cooped up in a vehicle all day. You quickly walk around to the gas pump and start refueling. While you’re leaned against the camper and waiting for the tank to fill, you can hear Ace moving around inside. It was relatively common for him to take advantage of these pit stops to get out of the bedroom and stretch his legs. You’re not sure why he wouldn’t just wait until after you got to the nearest campground, but whatever. It’s no skin off your back.

The gas pump loudly clicks off. You push yourself off the camper and hang it up before heading inside to relieve yourself and pay for the gas. The door chimes quietly and a young cashier with glasses casually greets you before returning her attention to the coffee machine she’s refilling, looking as if she would rather be anywhere but here.

You follow the sign pointing you to the single person bathroom and slip inside. The lights are dim and flickering, and the harsh scent of cleaning chemicals assaults your senses, though you suppose that it’s better than the alternative. You quickly do your business and wash your hands. You look into the mirror at your reflection, taking in your appearance. The “pregnancy glow” that so many people talk about was nowhere to be found in your humble opinion. All that you see is an exhausted, stressed out woman.

But staring headlong into your reflection isn’t going to help anything. You rip off some paper towels from the dispenser and dry your hands before leaving the restroom. Rather than going straight to the counter to pay for the fuel, you wander around the aisles, debating if you want any snacks or drinks.

The section of the refrigerators with energy drinks in it catches your eye. Now that you’re thinking about it, you suppose you couldn’t have actually gotten one of these anyway. You’re far from an expert on pregnancy do’s and don’t’s, but you’re pretty sure that energy drinks are a hard no. Caffeine is a no-no in general, you think. Damn, that probably means no coffee or soda either. You shoot a half-hearted glare down at your abdomen, internally cursing how you’re already having to make sacrifices for something the size of a grape, if that.

With a somewhat heavy heart, you grab a bottle of juice and peruse the candy aisle, grabbing a couple of things you had been craving lately, then go to the counter to check out. The cashier is already behind it, leaning against the counter with her chin propped up on her fist. She straightens up when she sees you approaching and plasters on a less than convincing customer service smile, “Good afternoon. You had the gas outside, right?”

“Yep, at pump…” your brain draws a total blank. Now that you’re thinking about it, you’re not sure you ever even looked, “Uh, whichever one has the RV in front of it.”

The cashier takes a quick glance at a screen showing the pumps outside while quickly scanning the few things you brought to the counter. She presses a button on the register to add the gas, then reads you the total.

You pull out some cash from your pocket and hand her enough to cover it. While she’s getting your change, you remember that you were supposed to ask if there were any campgrounds in town. You clear your throat, “Hey, do you know if there’s a campground around these parts?” 

She glances at you, then fishes out the rest of your change from the drawer, “Yeah. It’s on the other end of town. There are a couple of signs for it.” Her hand extends and drops the coins into your open palm.

“Cool, thank you. Have a nice day.” You smile politely as you grab your items.

The cashier chuckles dryly at your comment, “Yeah… you, too.”

Not wanting to make Ace wait much longer, you promptly exit the gas station and hurry back to the RV. You get to the door and knock three times to give Ace a chance to run back to the bedroom. This was a rule established between you two so as to prevent you from accidentally torching your dear boyfriend with sunlight. You listen closely, but you don’t hear anything. After a moment, you crack open the door, assuming that he must have already gone into the room.

The juice and candy are set in the kitchenette, and you call out to Ace, “There’s a campground here in town, it should only take a minute or two to get there.” You wait for a response, but hear nothing. You frown and look up at the bedroom door, “Ace?”

“I heard you.”

His voice is muffled, but that does nothing to hide how curt his tone was. Your heart sank immediately and anxiety clouded your mind. Where did this mood shift come from? He was just saying that he loved you a few minutes ago. What happened while you were gone?

As much as you wanted to burst into the bedroom and confront him here and now, you knew that was a bad idea. You needed to park somewhere where you wouldn’t have to worry about being intruded upon. You swallow thickly, then get back in the driver seat. The RV is started and you hurry to your destination, trying to ignore the growing nausea in your stomach. Whether it was the pregnancy or the stress was anyone’s guess. You just hoped you could get this thing parked before you had to throw up. Morning sickness hadn’t been much of a problem for you yet beyond occasional bouts of nausea, and you were really hoping it would stay that way.

In a few minutes, you’re at the campground and the RV is parked and turned off. Your hands are sweating as you push the windshield cover into place, then close the cab’s curtain. You turn on the artificial lights, then take a deep breath, “You can come out now.”

The second the words leave your mouth, the bedroom door is practically ripped off its hinges from how hard Ace forced it open. His face is contorted in anger, and you’re sure it would be flushed red if he were still a human. 

Instinctually, you take a step back from him, not expecting such an aggressive entrance. Your eyes frantically search his face and body for any clues as to where this was coming from, only to lock onto some things clutched in one of his hands. Your heart leapt up into your throat.

Oh no.

“How long were you planning on keeping this from me?” His words are sharp and dripping with venom.

“I- I-”

“You what?! I can trust you with knowing that I’m a fucking vampire, but you don’t trust me enough to tell me that you’re pregnant?!” The gap between you was closed quickly as he strode up to you. The positive pregnancy tests were thrown to the floor and scattered as Ace’s hands locked onto your biceps and pulled you even closer to him.

Your hands push on his heaving chest, but he doesn’t budge. You’re fully panicking now as your mind scrambles to find anything you could say to assuage him, “I was going to tell you! I promise!”

“When? How long have you known?” Ace’s lip pulled back into a snarl, showing off his enlarged fangs.

“Not even a week! It’s only been a few days, Ace!” All the other words on your tongue die as the fluctuating hormones and mounting stress collides inside you and breaks the dam holding back your boiling emotions. Hot tears bubble to the surface and pour down your face as choked sobs come out, carrying the jumbled words lodged in your throat, “I didn’t know what to do! I was scared!”

More sobs tear out of you as you completely fall apart. Ace never yelled at you, and you were absolutely not in the state of mind to handle this happening now. This was precisely why you hadn’t told him yet. This was the reaction you were afraid of.

Ace’s hands loosened their grip on your arms, “Shit…”

His hands let go of you, then he wrapped his arms around you, cradling your frame to his chest. “Wait, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course you’re scared, I should have figured as much.” His words come out hushed, but at a frantic pace as he tries to calm you down. In an instant, his arms drop down enough to lift you up off the floor while he continues to whisper assurances into your ear.

Despite his attempt at comfort, you were too distressed to accept his words. “I should have told you… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m the one that jumped to conclusions.” Ace was having none of your attempt to take the blame back. 

You hadn’t even realized he had been moving until you heard the bedroom door close and fell onto the bed while held in Ace’s arms. You sniffle loudly and look up at him, though that was pointless. He hadn’t bothered turning on the lamp, so you had no idea what emotions his face held. You’re sure that was intentional on his part. One of his hands strokes your hair while the other holds you tight to him.

When he doesn’t show any indication of intending to speak, you take the lead, “Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad at you. I just lost my cool for a second there.”

While the answer was sweet, it wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. “Not at me. Are you mad about… the baby?”

Ace stiffened and held you tighter. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for his response. The hand in your hair tangled into it to push your face into his neck, while the other hand clutched your hip.

After what felt like an eternity, he speaks quietly, “I’m not… mad about the baby either.”

Another silence falls over the room, one that you would break again, “Did you know that this could happen?”

This time, his answer was quick, “No.”

“So you don’t know what’s going to come next, do you?”

His arms tighten around you even more, “I don’t.”

The silence returned, though it felt much more tense and uncomfortable now. Your voice is just barely audible as you speak again, “I’m scared.”

“I… It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out. I’m here for you.”

Those words were what you had been needing to hear since the beginning. Finally, you feel relaxed enough to return his embrace and melt into him, soaking up his reassuring, albeit physically cold, presence. “I love you.”

Ace presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I love you more.”

For a while, you two take solace in each other’s companionship. That hadn’t gone exactly how you would have liked, but you feel happy with the current resolution, even if a lot is still up in the air. At least you know that Ace has your back no matter what.

Still, all the emotions that had burst within you earlier remained in there, bouncing around and making you feel antsy. You could stand to get some fresh air and walk it off. You squeeze Ace, then pull away a little. Even though you may not be able to see him, you know that he can see you perfectly.

“I think going for a walk would do me some good. I need some fresh air.”

“Oh… Yeah, of course,” Ace’s hold doesn’t loosen even a little bit. “We’ll go for a walk after the sun goes down.” With that, he pulls you back to him snugly. 

You sigh softly and squirm in his arms, “I meant now. The sunlight will probably be good for me.”

“But I won’t be able to go with you. Just wait.” His voice took on something of a stern edge.

“I’ve gone for plenty of walks by myself before, Ace. I won’t be gone long.”

Ace sighs deeply and keeps a firm grip on you. He speaks in a low tone, “Yeah, well last time you went for a walk, you weren’t carrying a half-vampire spawn in you. You’re done going for walks during the day or doing anything alone. I’m not risking a hunter finding you like this, especially not when I’ll be powerless to even follow you.”

While Ace being protective was hardly anything new, this was a lot even by his standards. “That’s a little extreme. I can’t just stay cooped up for months.”

“I don’t care if you think it’s extreme, this is just what we’re doing now.”

“But-”

Your face is abruptly grabbed and brought closer to Ace’s face. His nose brushes against yours as your cheeks are squished together. The chilled air of his breath fans out across your face as he speaks, “This is not up for debate. Drop it.”

“... Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll drop it.” The desire to plead your case was certainly burning within you, but you could tell that you weren’t going to make any headway with Ace today. You sigh in an exasperated manner as you’re pulled back into his embrace.

This has been a lot for him to take in in one day. You’re sure that he’ll calm down after everything has a chance to sink in. You just need to be patient. It’s not like he’s going to hold you hostage inside a camper for the entire duration of your pregnancy. He would never go that far… At least you hope.

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | MV1 , LH44

Act 2. Part 6 : The Truth Unraveling

Ships : Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader, Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama, Angst, Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters, Manipulation, Blackmail, Swearing

A/N : Rahhhh! I’m so sorry for taking so long to update, forgive me.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious.

< Previous Masterlist

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Distinguished, proud, and dignified are words paralleled to the motorhome of Mercedes Amg Petronas F1 team. The team where this era’s champions are bred and trained. It was the model of what a Formula 1 team should be.

However, this is all in the perception of the common fan —a facade carefully built for the media and their sponsors. In reality everything was far from it. Manipulation, deceit, and sketchy dealings are rampant behind closed doors. Rumors and slander come out of that place on the daily. And in the world of Formula 1 when scandals arise, however unjust and cruel — a person is guilty until proven. That was the deal.

All are well aware of such a notion. And when Mercedes had posted an official statement about Y/N L/N’s supposed lawsuit. The entirety of motorsport was in shock and disbelief. Many were convinced about the allegations and had petitioned for your removal from the sport, while the few who had actually known you had stood by your integrity and your character as a person.

In an instant, your years of hard work were put under a microscope and are being devalued to its foundations. Your presence as a woman in motorsports was already a hot matter, and some are only waiting for you to trip. And now they have the opportunity to discredit you.

Inside the motorhome of Mercedes, chatters and whispers littered every corner and every wall. Not one Mercedes employee wasn't talking about the topic of Y/N L/N’s lawsuit. With them insulting your name — most of which are the engineers who were envious of your success. Nevertheless, in the darkness there are some fireflies where they light up the night by a fraction. These are the people who actually directly worked with you… they were not your friends, but they cannot diminish your work as they saw it first hand.

And they were the people who saw the change in Lewis Hamilton upon your departure from the team. They knew that you and Lewis were dating, but they kept it to themselves. They were not blind nor were they stupid, but why should they care? The team was winning, that was all that mattered.

However, when you left and went to Red Bull and became Max Verstappen’s engineer — they watched as Lewis lost himself bit by bit. First came anger and agitation, Lewis was livid inside the motorhome, snapping at everyone and everything. Then day by day every ounce of spark had drained from the driver’s body, leaving a hollow vessel behind. He no longer went out drinking with the team, no more parties and galas, no more women.

Until that one fateful day where everyone was mandated to celebrate in a club chosen by their boss specifically out of nowhere. Lewis was with the other drivers only nursing a single drink in his hand. Up to, late that night when he looked out of it and a girl was in his arms kissing him feverishly. They thought that Lewis was back to his partying playboy personality.

However they were gravely mistaken, as the morning after Lewis was back to the hollow and empty version of himself and he went on racing on autopilot. Another drastic change had happened to Lewis Hamilton that got the team on their toes — Lewis Hamilton was suddenly filled with determination and resolve , for what? They did not know. Not till they heard of the news of the party in Monaco where Y/N L/N had Max Verstappen wrapped around her finger and had made a fool out of their boss.

Lewis came back a man with a purpose, it was as if he was in his rookie years filled with so much resolve and focus to prove himself. And they could only point all of this to one person. The person who turned their motorhome upside down — Y/N L/N.

And so , when they’ve gotten news about the lawsuit, they immediately informed Lewis.

He was already on edge from his loss to Max in the race and he was furious at your exchange of affection with Max on the podium. Lewis was not angry with you. How could he? You were his light.It was his fault for letting you go into the arms of the enemy. He knew that it was his mistake for taking you for granted. Lewis knew that he should’ve loved you and came clean when he had you. You would’ve understood… Lewis knew that you would. He knew you – he was sure of it.

Lewis knew that he should’ve told you the truth and confessed his sins… be he was too ashamed and guilty for what he has done to you. Ultimately, he was terrified that you would never forgive him for what he had agreed to do. He was afraid that you would’ve left when you came to know that his relationship with you was tailored by Toto Wolff. But you had already left him for an entirely different reason.

It was just supposed to be business and nothing more for the British driver but now all things were clouded as he found himself in the clutches of Love itself. Maybe it was his punishment for his selfishness and greed for success. But you cannot blame him for wanting the best for himself– after his father sacrificed so much for his dream. The temptation of Wolff’s words was a trap that he willingly went under.

Date the girl, make her content with what she had and nothing more. Tie her down and make her loyal to him and the team. Make her believe that it was him and her against the world. Keep it a secret so he would still be free.

It was easy to pretend at first– Lewis always thought that Y/N L/N had everything made easy for her. Lewis had despised that you had climbed the ladders so quickly in such a short amount of time… where he had to bear the prejudice, discrimination, bigotry and grudgingly wait, swallowing his pride for so many years at the chance in Formula 1. He hated that the pretty girl had made her way through the system without much of a hiccup.

With the plan in mind, Lewis started with flirting here and there– which Y/N had only prompted back with humor, not showing any true interest. Then came the banter, side jokes, and actually spending time together that ultimately opened the avenue of Lewis to get to know you, proving Lewis wrong of his prejudice against you. He saw himself in you, the pain and struggle that came with not fitting in with the cookie cutter image of Formula 1. Lewis Hamilton had seen your courage, tenacity, and will to prove to everyone that you belonged in the sport. In this you had earned his respect.

The friendship between the two of you bloomed. Lewis eagerly sought for your companionship and conversation, he had found a true friend in you. Then the gifts had started coming in – it was all in good heartedness at first, a true gesture of appreciation. Everything was innocent at first, Lewis had forgotten why he had approached you in the first place. That was till the big boss had reminded him of their agreement and toxified Lewis’ mind yet again – that he needed to prove himself to the world and to the team and all that. Then the flirtings came back and the intention of making Y/N his came back. And this time it was successful, Y/N had shown reciprocation to his advances.

Lewis had officially taken Y/N for himself. Lewis had enjoyed his time with you, all the memories you’ve built together from then forward were authentic and true. Through every ups and downs, you were with him. Without notice, Lewis Hamilton had unknowingly truly fallen for you. His agreement with Toto was the last thing on his mind.

However, that love was not enough to distinguish his desire for greatness. Lewis was still consumed by what the world offered. But everything became real and true way too fast for Lewis when the entry of a young Dutch driver to Formula 1 had happened. Suddenly his reign was shaken and it had clouded his judgment, even towards the person that he had loved. Lewis saw your friendly interactions with Max and he had seen you defend the young driver. In his panic, jealousy, and uncertainty, He had allowed Toto to manipulate him against the very person who had shown him love and care. He had once again allowed someone to poison his mind against you.

Lewis had started to doubt you and your love for him. He allowed the rumors and false accounts on you get to his head. And to his shame, Lewis had believed the stupidest thing that he could’ve thought— that Y/N was causing and conspiring in his fall and loss of the championship.

Lewis had believed that Y/N had betrayed him. He believed Toto’s words and he allowed Toto to demote Y/N. Lewis knew that he chose to believe everyone but the person that had loved him. And this had caused him the person he loved. Y/N had left him.

Regret was short of what Lewis felt. The emotional pain had manifested into pain that he felt on the outside. Lewis had felt pain like no other at the loss of Y/N. But it was a pain that he would choose to go through, if it meant that he finally realized the mistakes that brought pain to his Y/N. He would gladly go through the pain if it meant that he finally realized the depth of his love for the girl he once took for granted.

And He promised to himself that he will get her back and prove himself worthy to Y/N. Lewis Hamilton will take all means necessary to right his wrongs — and it starts within Mercedes, where the root of the problems began. Fuck the championship and the team. He wont let them touch Y/N again.

Exploding with simmering rage, Lewis had found himself in front of Toto Wolff’s office. Not bothering to knock, he had opened the door with a crashing bang not caring if he broke the office door or if everyone heard the commotion.

“WOLFF!! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” The loud shouts of Lewis filled the entire office.

“Calm down and close the damn door, Lewis” there sat behind his office table, a stack of paper in hand — Toto Wolff. The man’s expression was unreadable and cold. Toto knew how to keep his reactions and emotions away from the English champion. Toto Wolff always knew how to control and deal with Lewis Hamilton … until Lewis had fallen for Y/N L/N for real.

Toto can read Lewis Hamilton like an open book— Toto knew what Lewis’ thoughts were before he said them. But when Lewis had started to deviate from the plan, Lewis Hamilton’s priority had shifted. The champion had set his heart on you.

Lewis Hamilton had deviated from the plan. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the engineer. No, the plan was to date the girl to keep her in Mercedes, be his race engineer and keep her in line.

This was set between Lewis and Toto from when he transferred to the team. From day 1, everything was set in stone. But to Toto Wolff’s vexation, Y/N L/N had always come up on top.

Y/N L/N had turned his golden driver, the key to his success and fortune against him. Lewis Hamilton was no longer the puppet he could control. Just because he fell to the charms of the engineer.

“Shut the fuck up Wolff! Drop the fucking lawsuit on Y/N or I’ll swear I’ll tear this team and your reputation apart” Lewis raged, muscles tensing as he jabbed his finger menacingly at Toto.

***

“Christian what is this about? What is going on?” After you had received the urgent news. You had quickly made your way towards the Red Bull Motorhome.

Your phone was blasted with notifications from all social media platforms. Mercedes had the insolence of posting in the media of something that wasn’t yet to be discussed with you nor Red Bull. You knew that this was another dirty tactic on their part

“They’re suing you and the team for a data and contract breach” Christian had said begrudgingly as he sat back his chair, a hand on the bridge of his nose.

“What? On what grounds?” You asked exasperated as you took a seat in front of Christian’s table.

“Here’s a copy of their claim” Christian gave you a copy of the paper from Mercedes. You flipped through the pages and you couldn’t help but mockingly laugh.

You were being sued on the grounds of sharing information on team and driver strategies to Red Bull and that you didn’t finish your employment contract with them. You could help but think of how desperate and pathetic they could be.

How can they be so petty and think of you cheating just cause they couldn’t win against you.

“Wow, they couldn’t handle the fact that they’re loosing, huh. What did the FIA say?” You once again asked your team principal.

Suddenly the door opened revealing a disheveled Max— who seemed to have ran his way here.

“What the fuck did I hear about a lawsuit?!” Max was hysterical as he made his way into the room.

Christian didn’t mind the Dutch driver as he answered my question.

“They haven’t contacted us yet, but expect that you will be suspended from engineering for Max till end of the season.” A look of sympathy had shown itself on the principal.

“They wouldn’t dare! Y/N is innocent! Just cause they cant swallow their incompetence, they target Y/N?! Cowardly motherfuckers” Max ranted.

They expected you to cower and run for the hills, but this was something you had already planned on them doing. Petty and underhanded actions are Mercedes’ MO and you are prepared for it.

If they wanted to play it this way, then you’ll up them in their own game.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll have your back and we’ll do everything in our power to prove your innocence” Christian had said showing his support. Meanwhile Max was on his phone typing away muttering under his breath that he’ll pay millions for the best lawyer for you.

“Thank you Christian, it’s very much appreciated! Great to know the team has my back. But I think we should fight fire by fire first” you smiled at them menacingly as looks of confusion appeared on them.

“What do you mean, Liebling?” Max questioned

“A counterclaim on Mercedes on the grounds of employee maltreatment and workplace harassment — don’t worry, Nico will testify if needed” You smiled brightly, as if what you said was nothing.

“It will only be fair if we take this to the media as well right? They did start it first” you added.

“That will ruin the reputation of Mercedes… are you sure, y/n? They will be out for blood.” Christian warned.

The pain, humiliation, and mental abuse you’ve experienced in that motorhome, everything they’ve done to you came rushing back.

“They’ve ruined mine and they’re dragging the team into. Its only fair”

“Y/N there are hundreds of employees at Mercedes that will face fire. Are you certainly sure?”

“Mercedes will survive, it’s only the principal and top management that needs total revamping.”

***

Red Bull had just posted their response to Mercedes and all of motorsports was having a field day. All sports news was covering the debacle between the two motor teams.

Your phone was once again lighting up with notifications. And one particular message has gotten your attention that you couldn’t help but reply.

Upon reading the last reply, your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you ask Max?

Max wouldn’t do anything like that right? Max knew what Toto Wolff had done to you… he wouldn’t work with Toto right?

Max knew you detested the man that made your life a living hell. Max would never.

Yeah … he wouldn’t.

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {3}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: The rift you have caused comes to a destructive head when summer breaks is over. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, crash, injuries, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Summer Break “I really fucked up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound hoarse from all the crying. You were curled up on your side on the couch in Pierre’s apartment in Milan, your head on his lap as his hand ran up and down your arm in comfort. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“He’s your brother, he’ll forgive you,” he assured you once again. “I’ve said way worse things to my brothers. Maybe this break is exactly what you need, get away from Max for a few weeks, have some space.”

“And Lando, and Charles.” You groaned as you rolled onto your back and stared up at your closest friend. “You have a bear in the cave.”

“Gross, don’t look up my nose,” he said as he pushed you off his lap.

“I can’t help it, it’s the angle,” you laughed as you sat up before sobering. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Lando was heading back to Monaco to spend the holidays with Luisa, and Charles was on his way to the Alps to meet up with Charlotte.” 

You sighed at the mention of their girlfriends and Pierre gave you a look of pity that you resented. Pulling your phone out, with the determination to move on from the silly crushes that had developed over the years, you opened the Raya app and shifted closer to him. “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the phone and locking it. “I’m taking you on a road trip.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah, but I think it’s what you need.”

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You reunited with the team for Max’s home race and a sea of orange filled the stands, all cheering for their Lion. You had tried to talk to him when you arrived at the track but you didn’t know what to say to repair the rift you had made. Every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.

“That one’s for you,” Lance said as he tapped your elbow.

“Huh? What? Yeah, totally,” you rambled trying to recover from zoning out thinking about the three weeks of silence, not only with Max but Lando and Charles too. You had sat beside the Canadian on the sofa, the furthest point from the others and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You look like you enjoyed your vacation with Pierre. It was quite different to how you usually spend your down time.”

“Because I was sober?” you teased. “My liver needed a break, as did my PR team, and it was really quite fun. Exactly what I needed actually and it was great to reconnect with Pierre since he upgraded to Yuki.”

You could feel three sets of eyes on you from the other end but then the conversation was diverted their way and you sagged back into the couch. That was until you heard the news that the holiday had been dubbed ‘break-up season’. Both Spaniards had become single in the first week, Logan and Lando in the second and Charles in the third. It had been quite the shock to their fans.

If Pierre hadn't removed your social media for the break you would have known all of this but instead you had to find out on stage with dozens of cameras capturing the surprise on your face. 

The second the interview was over you chased after Lando and finally caught up to him at the McLaren motorhome.

“Hey, can we talk?” You were aware that there were still plenty of cameras around, and it looked like the Netflix crew were scheduled to his team too. “Somewhere private.”

He didn’t exactly look happy at the request but his eyes softened as you quietly begged, “please, Lan?”

“In here,” he sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as he opened the door to his room. The door clicked shut behind you and you looked around the small space, the air still humid and smelling like his body wash from the shower he took before the media conference.

“How was your break?” you asked as he sat down on a padded bench, leaving the more comfortable chair for you.

“Could have been better.”

There was a pregnant pause where you both waited for each other to speak. It wasn’t like him to be so short and you thought more would follow but he just stared back at you. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands on your lap. “I, uh, wanted to apologise for what I said to you. You were just being a good friend and I was a complete bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” he stated bluntly before he bit his lip and mouthed a silent, ‘sorry’ and tucked his knee up so he could rest his cheek on it.

You huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ve heard that once or twice. I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying to change. Can you forgive me?”

His head lifted with a frown, his soft curls falling over his forehead to meet them. “What? No.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it was but you had thought he would at least accept your apology. Rising from the chair, you started to make your way to the door until you heard the vinyl bench squeak as he followed.

“Wait,” he said as he caught your hand reaching for the handle. “You were right. So there’s nothing to forgive.” He tugged your hand so you turned to face him before he let it slip through his fingers. “I was unhappy, and I probably should have broken up with Luisa a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be alone again. Which, after you left, I realised is a poor reason to be in a relationship. So I really wasn’t up for offering advice. ” He smiled sheepishly and opened his arms. “Forgive me?”

You stepped into his embrace and buried your head in his neck with a nod. “You were right too.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” You were reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms but there was still one other person to apologise to. “I owe you and Charles for saving my ass. How about dinner at my place on Tuesday?”

“I mean, it was mostly me,” he joked as he puffed his chest up and pushed his shoulders back. “But we can invite him too, I guess.”

“Of course, my hero,” you swooned sarcastically before leaning in and kissed his cheek. “See you next Tuesday. See what I did there?”

“There’s my Spitfire,” he laughed and shook his head. “For a moment I thought you were gone.”

Max’s motorhome was empty when you reached it and so was the garage but his engineer, Calum, was there and said Max had gone to visit family. It hurt more than you expected to hear that you hadn’t been invited, especially since it was Jos’ side of the family that lived in the Netherlands. The side of the family you shared with Max. 

That pain followed you as you wandered around the paddock a little lost, signing autographs and stopping for photos with fans on autopilot. You didn’t know where to go, or how to fill the hours until Max returned. Then when he returned you weren’t even sure he would want to see you after what you said.

“Hey, I’ve called out like three times,” Charles said as he suddenly appeared in front of you and frowned at your startled reaction. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I’m in a world of my own,” you said as you looked around to see you were outside Ferrari hospitality. “How, uh, how have you been? I meant to call you over the break and thank you for what you and Lando did for me.”

“It’s no problem, but it was mostly me.”

“Funny, he said the exact same thing,” you smirked. “Anyway, as a thank you, you two are coming to my place for dinner on Tuesday. I promise I won’t give you food poisoning, this time.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he said sarcastically. “But Tuesday works for me. Where were you heading anyway? I thought you would be with Max.”

You couldn’t hide the wince on your face at the mention of your brother and Charles reached out and rubbed your shoulder with a look of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I actually need to go do a thing,” you lied as you started to feel the increasingly familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“Chérie, wait.” Charles made to follow as you backed away but he stopped when you shook your head.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you turned your back and wiped your eyes. It was race week and your emotions were all over the place, it was a recipe for disaster. 

Race Day

You threw your phone across the room and watched it bounce off the couch before hitting the floor with a crack. You could worry about the broken screen later, with the race only an hour away and Max still ignoring you there were more pressing things to think about.

You worked through your warm up routine under the watchful eye of your physiotherapist before making your way to the reflex machine. The lights danced across the buttons and you slapped each one with precision until it suddenly clicked off. 

“You’re not focused,” Kristian tutted.

“I hit them all,” you argued as you caught the bottle he threw to you and took a drink.

“Reacting out of habit is not the same as responding by reflex. You need to think, then do, not just do.”

You grumbled under your breath about what a load of crap it was but made a show of the next round before he gave up with a sigh. “I’m going to head down to the grid,” you said as you grabbed your helmet and balaclava. “Pierre can help me finish up.”

It was easy to spot Pierre with his PT, his concentration solely on the tennis balls he was focused on catching before they hit the ground. 

“Mind if I butt in?” you asked as you took the tennis balls and replaced Ben. “He still won’t talk to me.” You dropped the balls at the same time and he easily swiped them from the air before tossing it back into your palm.

“You can take my spot for the anthem, I think I saw my name next to his on the seating chart.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admitted as you dropped the balls one after another trying to trick him. “I called him a dick, twice.”

One ball bounced along the asphalt when he laughed, missing the easy catch. “That’s the opposite of apologising.”

“I know, he just pissed me off.” You caught sight of the race suit that matched yours and watched him walk on the far side of the grip with Charles. “I don’t like being ignored.”

Pierre grabbed the wayward tennis ball and returned to hold them up over your hands. “You did start that by ignoring him first.”

“I thought we were friends.” You caught the ball he dropped and tossed it at his face. “You’re meant to take my side.”

He caught it before it could connect with his nose and crossed his arms with an amused smirk on his face. “I am your friend, so I will tell it like it is. Go talk to him.”

 You narrowed your eyes at him as you stepped away and he nodded encouragingly as you made your way across the home straight. 

“Not now,” Max said as soon as you stepped into his field of vision, making Charles look over his shoulder. 

“Then when?” you asked. “After the race? Next week? Next year? Should I put my name up for a transfer? Is that what you want?”

“Woah, what's going on?” Charles asked as watched you grow increasingly more upset with each question.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Max said coldly. “Oma sends her regards and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see you.”

“You didn’t fucking invite me,” you growled as you stepped closer jabbed a finger into his chest.

Max rolled his eyes and schooled his face to one of boredom. “You told me to leave you alone.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Charles interrupted, pushing himself between you and your brother before you could get disqualified. “Walk with me.”

Charles stepped closer and his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around before one hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you to keep moving. 

“What’s going on?” he asked as he took a seat against the pitwall and pulled you down beside him. “And don’t say it’s nothing. You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“We had an argument and now he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Charles draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “He’s your older brother, he could never hate you. Trust me, there’s nothing Arthur could say that would make me hate him.”

“Arthur’s too nice to say anything mean, but me? I’m a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, you’re just passionate.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a chuckle. “I like that about you.”

“You must be the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he murmured quietly and you followed his line of sight to Lando who was making his way over while everyone else started to move to the front of the grid. “Time to go.”

Charles stood up as Lando offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Try not to get too excited hearing the Dutch anthem,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from both of them as they fell into step either side of you, “again.”

You were driving recklessly, determined to beat Max, but it had meant receiving a black and white flag warning for exceeding the track limits three times. One more violation and you would get a five second penalty, practically handing the win over on a silver platter.

“You need to manage your tires,” Nicholas warned over the radio. “You are pushing them too hard, the degradation rate is exponential. They won’t last to the end of the race unless you slow down and stay between the white lines.”

“I can’t slow down when I have Max with DRS behind me.”

“That’s not the plan. We want a 1-2 finish, it doesn’t matter who leads across the line.”

“It does to me.”

You passed the next DRS detection line and took the corner at speed before hitting the straight and trying to defend your position. Max was right at your bumper, riding the slipstream as he increased speed in preparation to slingshot out and past you. 

Only something went wrong.

Instead of going around you, Max’s front wing crashed into the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels off the track and sending you scraping the length of the pit wall while he spun out. Debris hit your helmet as Max’s car slammed into the concrete barriers and carbon fibre splintered apart, raining over you and the track. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you growled into the comms as you pulled your steering console out and unbuckled the harness. You jumped over the side of your car and ran towards Max’s, hurling abuse at him the entire way. “Who’s the spoiled brat now? You just couldn’t let me have the win could you? Dick!”

A pained groan was all you heard from the cockpit and the anger evaporated in an instant as dreaded fear replaced it. You leapt onto the top of the car and reached over the halo, pulling the visor up on Max’s helmet to see a dazed look in his icy blue eyes before they fluttered shut. 

“Max, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me, dammit!” you growled as you started to pull his harness open and looked around wildly, wondering when help was coming. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I don’t hate you, okay? I don’t hate you. You’re my big brother and I love you, so you have to stick around and be overprotective and piss me off for a very long time. So open your fucking eyes!”

“Zusje?” he asked after a moment of blinking dumbly. “What happened?”

“You forgave me and said I could borrow your yacht.”

“Bullshit,” he groaned as he pushed his harness off his shoulders and accepted your hand to help him climb out. “I would never let you borrow my yacht.”

A groan wheezed out as his boots hit the ground and you wrapped an arm around his waist to take his weight, holding him steady. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Only if I can get a recording of your radio, you actually sounded worried for me,” he said with a laugh before he clutched his ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“Of course I was worried, asshole. I thought you were hurt.”

“I am hurt,” he pointed out before rapping his knuckles on your helmet. “I love you too, little sis. Even when you say you hate me.”

Click here for Not A Verstappen: Gridlock {1}.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky

[giuseppe-yuki]

fashionista

zhou guanyu x teacup pig shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: none :)

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: you get a new outfit (ft. a trip to the convenience store)

pictures credits from pinterest :)

as one of the unofficial fashion moguls in the paddock, it was your job to serve face whenever you appeared in the paddock. the sound of paparazzi camera shutters clicking were almost always a sure sign that you were near. 

today, you entered the paddock hand-in-hand with your boyfriend zhou. he, of course, was dressed to the nines next to you. your baggy parachute pants paired with a tight cutout top and zhou’s baggy jeans with an almost see-through mesh top looked like the pinnacle of haute couture streetwear. 

you smile directly at the cameras following you both, sending a small wave at a man dutifully taking what looked to be at least twenty pictures of you per second. continuing down the paddock, you stop a few times in order for zhou to sign a few pieces of merch. you adjust your slim sunglasses on the bridge of your nose to hide your eyes from the blazing hot texas sun. as you pass the vcarb motorhome, you spot daniel ricciardo dressed in a cowboy outfit. he clicks his tongue and sends finger guns to you and zhou when you walk by.

zhou leans towards you and whispers into your ear, “baby, we should have dressed more like that, for cota!” 

you turn to face him, wrinkling your nose. “no way am i ditching my outfit for cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, zhou!” you tilt your head, looking at him with a questioning look. “i mean, would you rather wear that or the outfit that marc jacobs sent you tomorrow?”

he sends you a chagrin smile. “point proven, i guess.”

before you could continue your walk, a snow white samoyed bolts out the mercedes motorhome next door. it sniffs zhou twice before plopping itself in down. lewis runs out of the motorhome a second later, skidding to a stop next to the dog. 

“holy cow, you need to calm down,” he says pointedly to the dog. he bends, hand on his knees, panting. “i’m getting old, and i swear im not going to be able to catch you anymore!”

the dog shoots lewis a look, as if rolling its eyes. lewis looks up, as if just noticing you two standing if front of him. 

“well, if it isn’t the best dressed couple on the grid,” he says, chuckling. he scans both of you up and down. “nice outfits, by the way! i think you two are possibly the only people that can outdress me.” 

“thanks!” zhou replies. “i honestly think you are still the undisputed fashion icon of the paddock, though.” 

you nod, agreeing. 

“why thanks!” lewis says, beaming. he then glances at his watch, and frowns. “oh shit,” he says, “i think fp1 is starting soon! i gotta go. you guys should probably run to the garages too.” he waves at you both and starts sprinting away, samoyed at his side.

“you ready to go?” your boyfriend asks, smiling at you. 

you take a second to fix your sunglasses again, and give him a quick nod. zhou grabs your manicured hand, and you both dash towards the kick sauber garage.

“omg, wait for me!” your boyfriend shouts, hands still on the driver’s wheel. but, you had already leaped out of the barely stopped alfa romero 33 stradale, clutching your snakeskin birkin.

the sun had already set in the texas sky, painting everything with a dark blue haze, including the white car that you had just jumped out of. by the time zhou had turned off the engine and hopped out of the car, you were already in front of the convenience store, giddy with excitement. he lightly jogs to you, briefly turning his body to lock the alfa romero with the car key lob. you press a light kiss on his cheek when he arrives next to you. 

after getting a pretty good result in both fp1 and fp2, you had promised zhou that you would both go on a run store, pick out a ton of snacks, then go back to the hotel to watch a movie and possibly “celebrate,” if you get my drift. unfortunately, after multiple meetings and an unplanned dinner with valtteri, it was too late to go to any normal store, so the next best choice was the convenience store that was open 24 hours. 

you grab his hand and run into the store, dragging zhou behind you. you walk past the candy aisle, hot dog warmers, and stunned cashier, arriving at the chips aisle. the colorful packages jump out at you, advertising for you to “face the intensity” or warning you that it was “dangerously cheesy.” 

“which one should should we choose, zhou?” you ask, turning to him. he too, is looking through the wide variety of snacks in front of him. 

after a few seconds of pondering, a grin spreads across his face. “my trainer is probably going to kill me, but all of them!” 

after fetching a big basket from the front of the store, you and zhou fill it to the brim with different kinds of chips. next, you walk over to the drinks area. both of you choose your favorite drinks, all the while giggling at the blue printed pictures of checo and max on the redbull cans on the shelf. 

your boyfriend walks over the cashier counter with the basket with the snack and is about to start checking out, when you spot the slurpee machine in the corner of the store. 

“zhou, come look! they have the famed slurpees here!” you exclaim, pointing at the thrumming machines stirring brightly colored concoctions. 

“i know we have a few drinks in the cart, but we should totally get some,” he says, looking at the bright letters spelling out SLURPEE.

you nod in agreement, and grab a cup from the row of cup bottoms sticking out from under the counter. when you hold up a cup, your eyes grow the size of saucers. “there is no fucking way. this cup holds fucking 22oz of liquid and it is only the second largest size there is!” you cry. you look next to you, and sure enough, zhou is holding a cup that says MEGA on the side that holds 40oz of liquid. he laughs at your reaction, but starts laughing even harder when he spots another cup to the right of you. it has bubble lettering spelling out DOUBLE GULP on the side, and it holds a whopping 50oz of liquid. 

after a laughing fit and a slurpee overflow mishap, you both walk to the counter to check out all your snacks. 

the cashier, still stunned, slowly scans the mountain of snacks next to him. gathering up his courage, he looks at the two of you shyly. “you’re zhou guanyu and you’re his girlfriend, right? i’m a really big fan of you both and i always love your paddock outfits.” 

zhou thanks the cashier, and you give him a warm smile in appreciation. 

after bagging the snacks, you and zhou load everything into the trunk of the alfa romero. it looks out of place next to the few battered chevy pickup trucks still in the lot at the dead of night. instead of climbing into the car after,  you and zhou take your giant slurpees and a few bag of snacks and sit on the edge of the sidewalk. from an outsider walking by, you both looked like a typical couple, (albeit very fashionably dressed one at that) with zhou’s arm around you and your head on his shoulders. 

later, when your tongues are stained with blue and you brush chip crumbs off of your baggy parachute pants, you find yourself looking at the plaza opposite of the convenience store. zhou, strolling back to you from throwing away the empty chip bags and melted slurpees, nudges your shoulder.

“watcha looking at?” 

you gesture with your head towards the store on the other side of the street, where a sign blares in bright red, “Pet Shop.” 

he shoots you a smile tinted with blue food coloring and takes your hand in his.

right as you enter, you are pulled by zhou into a random aisle. 

“wha-?” you splutter out as he continues to pull you down the walkway. your voice echoes throughout the deserted shop. that’s when you notice the products around you. pet clothes. you recognize his intent immediately. “absolutely not, baby,” you declare disgustedly, pulling against his grip. “those cheap costumes are not going an inch near me.”

“come on,” zhou says, trying to reason with you. “it’s not that bad!” 

he points to a little cowboy outfit on the sea of costumes, that has a little red hat, blue bandana along with four little cowboy booties. “perfect for cota, no?” 

you glare at him.

you find yourself in front of a horde of photographers and camera people the next morning when you arrive in the paddock. zhou adjusts you in his arms, tilting the red cowboy hat in a fashionable way and tightening the bandana on your neck while also smoothing down his brown leather jacket. you let out an oink as a sign of appreciation. you know what, you think contently, this outfit is starting to grow on me.

a reporter, holding a mic out, approaches you both. “martin brundle, for sky sports. excellent drive yesterday, for fp1 and fp2 yesterday, zhou. also, you and your erm- teacup pig here, fantastic outfits. may i ask, who is the designer behind her outfit for today? is it perhaps ralph lauren? or tom ford?"

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @madkohi @ralshatos @heartsforleclerc

[leclsrc]

can i please request a forbidden relationship with charles? like maybe a verstappen!reader or a wolff!reader? angst to fluff please 😩

name calling – cl16

Charles develops a new nickname, but it's not for you. (wolff!reader)

auds here... i love u anon and i hope its okay that i did not write angst into this!!! i needed a feel good thing to get the trope going. listened to this a lot while writing, one of my favorite cutesy love songs ever!

“There’s peach and apple,” you say over the phone, inspecting the juice box flavors in the well-stocked fridge of the Mercedes motorhome. Apparently, over at Ferrari, the supply is running dry, a report generously provided to you by your boyfriend.

“Is there lemon?” You two have the same favorite. You rifle through the stock and find a lone lemon flavor collecting frost at the back of the pile.

“None.” You say, clearing your throat. “Come on, man. Peach and apple.”

He makes a noise of suspicion, but gives in. “Peach then.”

“Okay.” You tuck your phone in-between your ear and shoulder and collect multiple to find the coldest one, an accompaniment to the heat this weekend; your call is cut short when your dad walks in, eyebrows set in a straight line of contemplation.

They raise when he spots you harboring a bunch of peach juice boxes. “Gotta go, bye,” you add in a rushed whisper, and he says a quick see you thanks before hanging up.

“Dad,” you say casually. You raise one of the six boxes in your hand. “Juice?”

“Is there lemon left?”

“No luck. Peach and apple,” you say sweetly.

“I’ll have apple. Listen, I’m going to a principal’s meeting using your scooter.”

You toss him a box. “Okay. Stay safe,” you respond, letting him pull you into a one-armed hug. “There’s too many people in the centre so I’ve been scootering behind motorhomes to get to places faster. Might help.”

“Okay, spatzi,” he says, punching a straw into the box and departing. This signals a greenlight for you to call Charles again—despite your best mutual efforts, you’ve both been almost caught calling or being near each other by your dad. And, in the words of your lovely boyfriend, he’s not yet ready to die. But the hiding is worth it; after all, it’s hiding from the public, which you both wanted from the get go, and your dad. Your mum and several friends know, which makes the lying ease up a little bit.

He picks up in the middle of the first ring. “Hey. Got my juice?” 

“Yeah. Back door.” A routine crafted over years of knowing each other—first as friends, then as lovers—serves you well, a rushed meeting at the back door of a garage or motorhome to discuss date night plans or to hand over a gift or plate of food. In this case, it’s a juice box, half-tossed in your rush to not be spotted by one of your dad’s friends.

And, as always, he blows you a kiss as you close the door.

—

Four sips into his peach juice, Charles sneaks past the Mercedes motorhome and moves back to Ferrari, but not without spotting a mess of long limbs on the ground beside a forgotten scooter. Upon closer inspection, his suspicion of it being a deranged superfan is rejected—it’s Toto Wolff.

“I must have tripped on a wire,” Toto grunts, eyes scanning the ground. He meets Charles’ eyes. 

“Let me help you,” Charles says, immediately offering a hand and pulling. The guy is jacked, so he exerts a bit more effort than he’s willing to admit; the job gets done nonetheless, so potato-potahto, really. 

“Thank you,” wheezes Toto, sitting up, all six feet five of him, “son.”

Charles is slack mouthed. Oh my God. Son???? “You are welcome, so welcome,” he responds kindly, despite the awkward tension. “Um, Papa.”

Toto pauses his ascent and stares pointedly before shaking his head. “I… must go.”

“Well, drive safe. Watch the roads. And all.” Charles says, laughing sheepishly. “Toto. Watch the roads, and all, Toto.” He emphasizes, like that takes back the fact that he called the big boss Papa just ten seconds ago. He chews at the straw of the peach juice, gnawing nervously.

“I will. Thanks again.” He falls quiet, staring. Then a knobby finger points to the juice box, waving back and forth in-between the juice box in the garbage bin a few metres away. “They’re… your juice box… is that from the Mercedes… motorhome?”

“No,” lies Charles with unrivaled stiffness.

“It is a German brand we special order for my daughter.”

“No—see, I am very into German juice.” He ignores the way it sounds like a euphemism. “What’s that? My phone is now ringing. Okay. D’accord. Au revoir.” He walks away as he makes up additional excuses, not missing Toto’s laser stare that seems to permeate through walls and asphalt, finding reprieve only when he’s back in his room.

He chucks the juice box into the nearest bin and prays to all the gods.

—

Charles ends up getting P1. He’s surrounded by whoops and cheers and receives a very solemn “good effort” nod from Toto across the paddock, which he feels cements his apology and effectively keeps your relationship hidden. He’s handled it well. For once, he’s the mature crisis handler in the relationship, and you don’t need to know about any of this, you really don’t.

You congratulate him at the back door like always, when he’s on the way to the parking lot.

A kiss to his cheek. Then: “I have something to ask.”

“What’s that, darling?”

“Did you, um. Call my dad Papa?”

He presses a palm to his mouth in a very Charles-esque overdramatic way. “Oh my God, he told you?!”

“Oh my God, it’s true?!” You detect the volume in your voice and usher yourself out, quietly shutting the door before facing him again. You raise your eyebrows.

Your boyfriend, your adorably aloof boyfriend, just sputters. “Well—he called me son!”

“Yeah, because he’s old! Old people do that.” You gesticulate wildly “I can’t believe you called him Papa.”

“I can’t believe he told you.”

“I can’t believe you both thought I did not know,” comes a voice from the door that is, unfortunately, not Lewis’ or George’s or yours or Charles’.

The door swings open and there your dad stands, eyebrows raised quizzically, windbreaker-clad arms crossed over his chest. “Charles, I know you don’t ‘like German juice.’ Spatzi, I know you don’t ‘enjoy exploring Monaco hotels by yourself.’” Stoically, he raises air quotes.

“… Sorry?” You offer, smile sweet.

“It’s okay.” He allows a small, warm smile directed to you. “I’ve known a while now.”

“Sorry, Toto,” Charles says profusely, visibly anxious.

The smile chills. Your dad just nods, waving him off. “Cool down on the Papa, though, Leclerc.” 

[coff33andb00ks]

🌈 + jack + red 😁😁🥰

eee yay my new love 🥰 (with an appearance by my current hyperfixation we love to see it)

warnings: minor injury, blood, not even close to a drabble (I cut out quite a bit, full Jack fic coming soon)

Your digital signature has been accepted, the hands shook and photos taken. Starting next year, you'll be driving full time for Mercedes. You're still in a daze as you make your way through the motorhome to George's room to tell him the news that no one else can know. His face creases in a delighted grin and his hug nearly cracks a few ribs.

"We're going to cause so much trouble next year," he says, still grinning as he takes a selfie with you to send to Carmen, who you know will be calling you soon to scream with excitement. No one's supposed to know until the official announcement during Singapore weekend, so of course everyone already knows, and after your call with Carmen you're smiling and nodding to everyone congratulating you as you make your way to the Alpine garage.

Esteban's excitement matches George's, and you agree to get drinks together soon with the gang before crossing the garage to where Jack's lying on his back under the car. Mechanics are with him and you lean against the wall to wait patiently while they talk about a setup for the coming race. One thing you've always admired about Jack is his serious intent to know everything about the cars inside and out. The first time you met him he'd been reassembling his new kart and had given you a toothy grin while explaining he had to know how it worked to know how to make it work. You'd sat next to him and asked him what one part did and he'd slammed his finger with his wrench.

You smile now at the memory of him, lanky and grinning like a dork. Your crush developed immediately, and even now after all these years you still have a crush on the man. You blink and the lanky kid is gone, replaced by a man with the same toothy grin unfolding his tall frame.

"There's my girl."

Augh. My girl. Those words will never not make you grin and blush and feel like a princess in a fairy tale getting her happily ever after. You push away from the wall, eyes on him, your spatial awareness completely gone because your only focus is on him, your very own Flynn Rider Eugene Fitzherbert. "Hey babe, I--"

Your grand announcement is cut off by a very un-princesslike curse word as you trip over a mechanic's foot. That spectacular superhuman reaction time that Toto loves to tout when he's talking about you? On vacation while you pitch forward, your arm catching on the car's rear wing.

"Cocksucking, motherfucking - fuck," you groan once Jack's helped you upright. Your arm feels numb but you can feel the blood already seeping through the sleeve of your shirt.

"No no no don't look," Jack murmurs but you're already twisting in his hold, stretching out your arm to see the crimson stain spreading.

"It's just a scratch," you promise weakly.

Ten minutes later you're in the medical center, watching the towel Jack had pressed to the cut slowly turn red as the team gets everything ready. It's more than a cut, you're gonna need stitches, and Jack sits next to you, pale and wringing his hands.

"When we get married I'm wrapping you in bubble wrap," he mumbles, rubbing at the drying blood on his fingers.

"It's fine," you insist. "I've had worse..."

He groans, looking even paler. "Don't remind me, please."

You're fine. He's a wreck. It's always like this. When he's had a minor injury you were the one fretting like a mother hen. When you had covid he was coming up with all sorts of home remedies to take care of every symptom.

"If you're this bad over a little cut how are you gonna be when I have a baby?" The words come out unfiltered and he slumps back with a whimper.

"We're adopting," he manages.

You can only giggle, startling the medics as they begin stitching your wound. "Deal."

[kwisatzworld]

Uccio Salucci: the good life

December 2008 by Mat Oxley

Uccio Salucci’s good life is living life with the world’s greatest motorcycle racer, handing him his helmet and gloves on the grid, topping up his energy drink in the pit, hanging out with him in Ibiza. In fact, everywhere Valentino Rossi goes, Uccio goes with him. It’s a bit like being God’s butler. There’s no doubt that Uccio lives the good life – travelling the world in first-class style with the hugely popular Rossi, who just happens to be his best mate as well as his employer. Uccio has been Rossi’s right-hand man since his earliest days on the GP trail, he’s like an extra pair of hands for the seven-time world champion. The old school friends have known each other most of their lives and are pretty much inseparable whether they’re in the paddock, partying in Ibiza or chilling out back home in Tavullia.

How old are you? I’m 29, same as Valentino.

How did you get here? We have been dear friends since we were four or five years old. We used to go to school together and after school we used to go minimoto racing together. Of course, Valentino was always faster. When he started travelling around and doing well in GPs he needed someone he could really trust to be with him, as all racers do. Valentino asked me to be his ‘main of faith’ and I said yes.

What do you do? My real job is to drive the motorhome to all the European races. I am also Valentino’s assistant, so he calls me bad names when things go badly and when things go well we share the happiness. I look after everything for him, all his kit, his leathers, helmets, gloves and boots, anything he hasn’t got time to do, I do.

What is the highlight of your job? Travelling, seeing new things, learning new cultures and, of course, being with an amazing character like Valentino. He’s a lot of fun to be with, in and out of the paddock. Of course, we do argue, we argue a lot, like women! The best moment of our time together was South Africa 2004, his first win with Yamaha.

What makes you tick? The engine of my job is wanting to win the race on Sunday, this is my main motivation, just like Valentino’s. You cannot do this job if you’re not hungry for victory.

Is it the easy life? It’s easy and it’s difficult. For sure it’s easier than a proper job, I don’t consider this to be a real job. It’s difficult to be with Valentino because he’s very famous, so he gets a lot of criticism, so you always have to stay calm about this kind of thing. But you get used to the lifestyle, it’s not a crazy life but an emotional life.

What’s your best-ever trip? I always enjoy driving the motorhome on long journeys, like to Jerez in southern Spain. The motorhome is always very crowded, there’s always four or five of us from Tavullia, with me doing all the driving.

What’s the best bike you’ve ever ridden? The Yamaha 990cc M1! I rode it twice in 2006, first at Monza, then at Valencia. Valentino let a few of us ride his bike. It was fantastic, the power and the braking were incredible, and the handling was so light and easy, like a bicycle. But I didn’t go very fast. For sure if I crash, I die!

What’s the secret of the good life? The secret of the good life in the paddock is to take everything lightly, not to take it too seriously. There’s a lot of pressures and if you focus too much on the pressures you don’t have a good time.

What would you swap about your good life? I don’t like it when Valentino gets criticised. The paddock is like a barber’s shop, everyone talks a lot, there’s a lot of bullshit, I don’t like that aspect of this world.

How often do you ride? I have an XT660 Supermotard, I go to the seaside from Tavullia. In the summer I never drive a car. Maybe I’m a little crazy on the street, especially on roundabouts: foot down, wheelies. But please don’t write that.

Who else has the good life? Rock stars!

You and Valentino like a party don’t you? Yes, of course, we love parties, but we’re getting older so we don’t party as much as we used to. We like to be with friends, eat a pizza…

So no more DC10? [A legendary Ibiza pill-popping club] We don’t like it anymore, the people are different now, Ibiza has changed.

What’s the best party you’ve been to? DC10 in 2000, before Vale bought a house in Ibiza. That was crazy!

What about girls? Some people think I’m a filter for Valentino’s girls but I’m not, maybe it would be nice. The problem of being with Valentino is that when a nice girl comes to meet us, she soon goes off with Valentino. He’s better looking, thinner, richer… and faster too.

Was the good life better in 1997 or is it better now? Those early days in GPs were unforgettable, the world championship was a dream come true for us but it was kind of like a game back then. We used to play, we were more natural in the way we carried on. Then we got older, racing got more serious and now it’s becoming more like a normal job.

What happens away from races? I’m with Valentino wherever he goes, like two normal friends, well, maybe not normal friends, but we are very good friends who get along well in all kind of circumstances.

And what good life after this good life? Recently I’ve started thinking about this but at the moment I have no idea. I will worry about this problem when I have to worry about it…

[formulalfc]

an-hope you like this <3

The Other Side of the Door

Pierre Gasly x Reader

tw-cheating, angsty, mentions of sex

You had met Pierre on an night out in France, you and your friends had been letting your hair down over the Christmas holidays and thought a trip to France was just what you guys needed to destress from the hard months of what felt like endless work at university.

You had been single for a while and were secretly longing for a relationship and as thought he was an answer to your prayers Pierre had walked into your life and turned your world on its axis.

You had gotten each other’s numbers when you met in the club, him inviting you and your friends into the VIP section with him and a few guys he was with, you of course had known who he was having followed formula one your whole life and so you both talked in depth about his career and many other things you were both passionate about.

The day after you had received a message from Pierre and that night you both went on a date, he had arranged a dinner on top of the Eiffel tower for you both, and that one date lead to another which lead to some very fun nights in hotel rooms which lead to you both falling so deeply in love with each other that everyone around you was envious of how committed to each other you were.

You had taken some time of work to follow him around the globe, you spent the off season with each other, basking in the small, uninterrupted time you guys got together before the season started again.

You were so consumed with Pierre that you didn’t really notice when things started to change.

Having taken so much time off during the last season, unless you quit you had to go back to work, and so you did. And you and Pierre adapted, facetimes, messaging, sending pictures to each other of whatever you were doing. It didn’t really seem to you like anything had changed apart from the distance between you.

And maybe you had been naïve, too trusting. After all you hadn’t really been in a serious committed relationship before, and you were still new to this.

But while you were young and naïve, you weren’t stupid.

You had shown up to the British GP, it was your home race and you had told Pierre you couldn’t make it and decided to surprise him instead.

But it wasn’t really a surprise in your eyes, it was a test.

When you had been travelling with the team you had made friends with a lot of the staff especially a few of the girls that helped with some of the media.

And to your utter devastation, they had told you that they had seen a girl leaving Pierre’s room more than once over the course of the last few weeks.

And you were here to catch the cheating son of a bitch out.

One of the girls, Lily, met you at the back gate and let you through into the teams motorhome. A few other members of the team greeted you and welcomed you back with open arms and smiles, obviously unaware as to what your boyfriend had been up to the last few weeks.

Once everyone had scattered again, you gave Lily a squeeze on the hand and took a deep breath in before walking up the stairs towards the small room you knew was Pierre’s to get ready in.

As you were walking towards the room, Esteban was coming out of his. He looked up at you catching your eye a look of such pity on his face as if he knew exactly what you came here to do.

He opened his arms and you didn’t hesitate to launch yourself into him. You had always loved Esteban much to Pierre’s dismay, you found the man funny and he always fascinated you with the way he told you his stories.

“Oh sweetheart…”, he murmured against your forehead, letting you know without having to say anything, exactly what his opinion was on your current boyfriend.

You pulled away with a deep breath wiping your eyes as you grounded yourself. You gave Esteban a nod of your head and a small smile, he kissed the crown of your head before making his way down the stairs of the motorhome.

You turned back towards the door.

You fucking hated that door.

You hated that door because you knew as soon as you opened it your heart was going to be in pieces and your life would be miserable for quite a while.

But you couldn’t let yourself hang on to this relationship that obviously didn’t mean anything to him if he was so willing to throw it all away for this girl.

It was now or never.

Your brave face was on.

You stalked towards the door, your hand twisting the knob before you could even hesitate for one more minute.

And absolutely nothing you had done prior could prepare you for the way your world crashed and stopped as you opened that door.

That stupid fucking door.

You could hear your heart shatter as your eyes laid on the bare torso of your boyfriend, some dark haired beaty riding him as you looked on.

She was beautiful. Everything you weren’t, and you think that might have been what hurt you most.

As if he noticed they were no longer alone his eyes snapped open on locked onto yours.

You watched as he scrambled to get the girl off him, already a pleading look in his eyes as he pulled his pants back up his legs.

The girl covering herself up with one of the blankets you and him used to cuddle up under after you had both fucked all Pierre’s pent up frustration from practise and qualifying and your faced twisted as you watched.

Your gaze quickly snapped back to the man who was approaching you but before he could reach you, before he could so much as touch a hair on your head, you put a hand out.

A warning.

You looked him In the eye, wanting him to see the pain and the heartbreak he had caused you before you spoke.

“I’m not here to fight. I’m not even here to listen to you attempt to come up with some half hearted apology as to why you were fucking someone else. Because there is nothing, absolutely nothing you could say to me, to make me ever think about forgiving you for tearing apart the relationship I nearly gave everything up for. To think I wanted to marry you, have a fucking child with you and while I was at home thinking about our future, you were here throwing it all away.” You scoffed, shaking your head as you looked at him. “You’re a selfish man Pierre, horribly fucking selfish. And one day, trust me, it will catch up with you. And you know what? I pity you. I pity you, because you know what Pierre? I’m going to walk out of here, and yeah this will take me some time to get over I’ll be heartbroken and cry to my friends and eat junk food for a few weeks, but I’ll find someone who appreciates me enough to never treat me like this. Who values me enough as a person to never even think of pulling something like you have. But you? When I walk out of here, you will have just lost the best thing that has ever happened to you. So, I fucking pity you.”

You turned towards the girl on the couch who seemed to be weirdly interested in the pattern on the rug, “and you. I’m sure you’re a lovely girl so let this right here be your warning, because this man will never ever change. He didn’t for the girl before me, he certainly didn’t for me and he won’t for you. Get out of this before he rips your heart out too.”

And with that you spun round and slammed the door shut behind you.

That stupid fucking door.

[no-144444]

vampire!- o.piastri

summary: oscar gets a new nickname...

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! jack wolff nanny! reader

this is part of a series but can be read as a standalone !

part one | part two | part three

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Oscar rolled out of bed with as much enthusiasm as usual, so none. Was he already late? Yes. Did he really care? No. Did he want to just stay in bed and relax with you all day? Yes. Did you look gorgeous in his bed? Yes. Did he want to stay there forever? Yes. 

But early meetings on track were a very big part of his job, and he’d be murdered if he was late again. 

“Don’t go,” you muttered, just waking up. He sighed and you smiled. 

“Baby I have no choice, I have to-” he was cut off by you kissing him, to which he wasn’t complaining. “Fuck,” he whispered against your lips, which then turned into you straddling him as he pressed kiss after kiss to your neck. Maybe it was the newness of your relationship, maybe it was the fact that he looked so pretty in the mornings, or maybe it was something to do with how persuasive you were, but Oscar finally had to run out the door, already running late for the meeting. 

Worst part? He didn’t regret shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You walked into the paddock looking like you’d just rolled out of bed (which you had). You had literally come in a pair of pyjama pants and one of Oscar’s hoodies, just grabbing your bag, slipping on some sneakers and leaving his hotel room. All of your makeup was in your hotel anyways, same with your clothes, but you didn’t care. 

Jack came running up to you as you walked into the Mercedes garage, and you picked him up, hugging him. 

“I’m rooting for Oscar today!” he cheered. “He’s my favourite.” 

“After Lewis and George?” you asked and he nodded, giving you a look that said ‘obviously’. You chuckled and put him back down, and he ran over toLewis, chatting animatedly. 

“What is on your neck?” Toto asked, his tone firm. He was pissed. 

You stared back at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes, taking out his phone, snapping a picture of you, and showing it to you. 

Oscar was dead. A huge, huge hickey on the right side of your neck. You clapped a hand over it, and another over your mouth. 

“Shit,” you cursed. “I must’ve really burnt myself. I didn’t think it would bruise so badly,” you lied (rather convincingly), but Toto was having none of it. 

“We’re going on a little field trip to McLaren,” he told you and you deflated. “Come on!”

Jack held your hand as you crossed the paddock, walking into the McLaren motorhome. 

Immediately, Toto found Oscar and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him aside. 

“Toto, come on-” you started. 

“Me and Oscar are going to have a conversation, go take jack to see Lando please,” he smiled, but it was one of his scary smiles. You grimaced and mouthed Oscar a ‘sorry’. 

Oscar looked traumatised when he walked back in. He walked over to you and apologised for the ‘issue’, and barely made eye-contact. 

You groaned, looking at Toto. “You broke my boyfriend!”

Toto shrugged, taking Jack’s hand. “Too bad.” 

Off they went back to Mercedes, and you took Oscar’s hand. “You alright?”

“He’s very protective, and he did say that George would do everything in his power to shove me off the track tomorrow,” he admitted. “But it’s fine. You’re worth it.”

You felt yourself smiling. “Ever the charmer Piastri.”

He shrugged. “What else would I be?” he smirked. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

F1 GOSSIP:

OSCAR PIASTRI SEEN TAKING TO TOTO WOLFF TODAY!

Today, Oscar Piastri (McLaren Driver) was seen speaking with Mercedes team boss Toto Wolff. They seemed to be having a heated discussion, could it have been about a possible future contract?! 

Read all about it here! ->

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You stared down at your phone with a sigh and sent the article to Oscar, and Toto.

You were too busy with Jack to actually go visit Oscar and talk about the article, but you just assumed he’d seen your message. 

He hadn’t. 

When he was brought straight to the media pen after sprint quali, he was confused about the amount of Mercedes- themed questions. 

“WHAT IS YOUR OPINION ON KIMI ANTONELLI?” “ARE YOU CLOSE WITH GEORGE RUSSELL?” “WHAT’S YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH TOTO LIKE?” “ARE YOU CONSIDERING A MOVE?”

He just answered the questions as well as he could until someone finally just asked him straight. 

“Why were you seen with Toto Wolff outside the McLaren motorhome today?” 

Oscar burst out laughing. “That’s what all of this is about?” he asked and the interviewer nodded. “It was just about a personal matter, nothing to do with contracts or anything.”

“What was that personal matter?” 

Oscar had backed himself into a corner, it was just own fault. “Um… it was just something about something.”

The interviewer chuckled. “Oscar, we’re going to need more than that.”

“I can answer,” Toto interjected. “This vampire couldn’t keep his lips to himself!” 

“Is this about Oscar and Y/n’s closeness recently?”

Toto nodded. 

“Are they a couple?”

“I fucking hope so, considering what he did to her!” Toto scoffed. “Fucking vampire!” He said before walking off, the interviewer was left with Oscar, who was blushing very badly, and laughing very hard. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Oscar walked into his hotel room, silently praying that you’d be there. His prayers were answered when he found you in the bathroom in one of his t-shirts, brushing your teeth. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and held you tight. “Toto is fucking crazy,” he chuckled. 

You nodded, laughing. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “You’re worth it.”

“Chessy,” you teased, leaving the bathroom with him behind you. He dropped his bag on the floor and took your outstretched hand, landing the both of you on the bed.

“You love it,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. 

You smiled at him. “I do.”

He pressed his lips to yours, hoping that  it wasn’t the last time he’d hear you say that.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[seat-safety-switch]

Motorhomes are basically a home with a motor in it. Although this definition also covers my home (which has several motors inside it,) we’ll elide that particular information and move on to the thrust of my story. A heavily-used motorhome, especially one that’s been sitting out in a farmer’s field for years, is cheap.

There’s a lot of reasons for this, the primary one being that they quickly become the primary residence of field mice. Although the Disney corporation will tell you that mice are cheerful and fun friends, this is at best a lie of omission. What mice actually do is pee and poop all over everything, chew the insulation off of wires, and occasionally crawl inside part of the climate control system and die. Like my uncle used to say at his used car dealership, if you find a dead critter in this one, we’ll take ten percent off.

I know what you’re saying: even with a discount, how can it be worthwhile if you have to tear out all the “home” part and replace it with new upholstery, new carpet, and new walls? The answer is the “motor” part. Motorhomes are often equipped with enormous, lazy engines, designed to rack up the miles with little or no maintenance. Those engines will outlive the owners’ disinterest in ever going anywhere. As long as you’re willing to dispose of the wrapper it came in, you can have a pretty beefy V8 for surprisingly few pennies (before your trip to the local speed shop to pick up several hundred dollars of Chinese camshafts and nitrous oxide kits.)

Of course, I did mention the big problem there: disposing of it. Just how do you get rid of a motorhome? Towing them is expensive, so you should make your best effort at getting it running and drive it to its final destination. Wherever you take it needs to be cool with you sawzalling the engine out of the chassis and taking off with it in the back of a pickup truck. Most junkyards are wise to your bullshit, and won’t accept a vehicle that’s ninety percent wood and mouse piss by volume.

The answer, naturally, is just to drive it right back to a farmer’s field. Maybe find one with a bunch of other RVs already there, and tuck it into the pack. It might be years until they find out about it, and today’s battery-powered sawzalls are both extremely quiet and very easy to return to Home Depot for a refund when you’re done. It’s called “recycling,” and it’s very good for the planet.

[ladysomething]

Could we perhaps have a snippet to get us through the next two days? 😂

On another note, I have a 6 hour bus trip on Friday and the logic part of my brain is telling me to wait and read the new chapter then but I know I'm absolutely not going to be doing that.

you can but it gives you basically nothing I fear

also re your bus trip ... why wait to read the new chapter when you could just read the whole story again from beginning to end?

Out in the main section of the motorhome, Max’s phone starts to ring. 

Charles looks at the closed bathroom door, then out into the main area. It’s barely eight in the morning—even Charles doesn’t get calls this early. 

“Can you see who that is?” Max calls out. 

Charles rolls his eyes. Like he’s available to meet all of Max’s whims. 

Still, he gets up from the bed and wanders in, easily spotting Max’s phone on the counter. 

“It’s Louis Moreau,” Charles says, reading the words FIA Compliance underneath his name and wondering why the Hell somebody from Compliance would be calling Max. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but Charles isn’t sure who he is. 

“Ah, fuck,” Max swears, followed by a loud clatter. The shower in there is tiny, especially compared to the decadent spaces in Max’s apartment, so Charles knows he’s probably bumped against a wall. “Fuck, could you—can you answer it, I’ll be thirty seconds—” 

[pitstoptaken]

hi love, more racer&wag!charlos questions:

does carlos get a piano at his place for charles?

what do they think about the press calling them just “friends” because they are men, when they would jump to dating rumours instantly if carlos was a woman instead?

how do they handle the off season, since charles has more free time but carlos has to keep up with work? and pre-season? do they stay in italy?

again thank you so much for this au, it feeds my little will to live ❤️❤️

Aaaa your ask made my day too!! So actually in this racer!charles and wag!carlos :

Yes, he got one. He apparently asked Charles if he wants the one he got at home to be there at Carlos’ place. Carlos bought the higher version (this is easiest way to say it).

For the press, it would be easier for Charles to have it that way—because of his image and he just doesn’t want to come out to alot of people, so Carlos respects him for that (even the whole Spain knows Carlos is dating Charles). Their proximity is also questionable to the press at some point because after his last girlfriend, he never bring any girl to the paddock (you know what I mean). But because Charles never said about his sexuality, it remains a question to the press. And Charles made it so obvious that he never, never bring a woman to the paddock. 🤭

Charles will be at Carlos place a lot, only getting back to his place when he has something going on. Carlos will agree to have a winter trip in his Christmas/New Year days off from the office. Starting a year, it’s no doubt that Carlos will be busy at the office because of new projects and new clients—this happens along with the pre-season preparation of Charles so Charles will be okay to be on his own when going to the motorhome and stuff. They do have a place in Italy but they only visit it at summer break

I am happy if this made you happy 🫶 I feel so appreciated because my silly thoughts got so much recognition lately. Thanks to all of you

[pixeldistractions]

Gameplay notes on a broken, stinky camper:

They haven’t set off on their adventure quite yet, by the way. There’s a bit more story to go still. But this is a glimpse into their future to show off the camper, since I need an entire empty lot to park this thing on, and the camper shown in the previous story scenes is just deco.

Here is the camper build that they’ll actually live in. It’s a decent sized class-C motorhome. As Jordan said, it’s not really one of those cute little renovated #vanlife campers that Ingrid has her heart set on. (Like this one <- I am a total geek over this woman’s van life channel, lol!)

But maybe Ingrid will get hers someday.

This camper is old and run down, definitely in need of some renovation. Jordan is a handy guy, so I have no doubt he’ll keep it running. But creative or stylish, he is not. So he’s probably quite happy to make it smell better and just leave it be.

It’s off-grid, and doesn’t currently have any power or water capabilities, but he is welcome to upgrade those systems when he’s ready.

It’s off-grid, and a micro home on 32 squares. (33, actually, being 3x11, and I cheated out a block from the bathroom so it could remain in the smallest tier. 😉 )

I haven’t played with either of these lot types in gameplay before, and I’m super excited to try them! I’m also looking forward to the gameplay of bringing this camper to different locations and playing in some towns that I don’t normally play. But it’s a bummer that, more often than not, I’ll have to bulldoze an entire building to place it somewhere.

(OMG give us world editing tools!!!)

The lot challenges are filthy, gremlins, and creepy-crawlies. And because it was said to be very stinky in the story, I placed a few of these apartment problem stink clouds around to pop up and give them a bad surprise from time to time.

The whole camper, not counting the lot value of wherever it’s placed, is around $7000. Neither of them paid that much for it, or even have that much money to their names. I keep my sims broke, lol! But I do have a kind of personal gameplay rule that my sims can get a bonus “kaching” for each apartment problem or lot challenge they add, to help out with the purchase price. Because in game, lot challenges don’t make the lot any cheaper, even though they kind of should, in my opinion.

Then they would have to pay $1000 in “repairs” to get rid of the lot challenge or apartment problem, if they ever decide to.

(Sadly, I suspect my apartment problems are about to totally break with the new For Rent pack we’re getting, and I’m not sure I have the brain space or ability to fix them this time. Oh well, we had a good run with them, didn’t we? Hopefully someone with more skills and time can pick up the torch.)

Jordan imagines renovating this back room with a couple of bunk beds for his boys, for the hopeful occasion that Colette lets them come out to visit.

So, they’ll take this thing to a few locations on their way out to California, and then in a couple weeks, Jordan will end up in Sierra Nova to meet up with Maya for the climbing club she hosts through Tyler’s adventure park. The plan is that they’ll train for a season in Sierra Nova, then travel to Komorebi to train further and then attempt to summit, which is another bit of gameplay I haven’t tried before.

I am not going to attempt to wrangle any sort of road trip driving shots with this thing, or the deco object, either. We will use our imaginations!

(Oh, but how cool would a cars/road trip pack be, where we could own a camper and drive it from place to place? But I bet even if they made a pack like that, the campers would be rabbit holes like the tents are.)