#term motorhome

[briancampbell0706]

Understanding Liability Insurance for Motorhomes: What it Covers ?

Unveiling the Essence of Liability Insurance for Motorhomes: Coverage Insights

Embarking on a motorhome adventure is an exciting prospect, but safety and preparedness should always be a priority. Understanding liability insurance for motorhomes is a crucial aspect of ensuring a secure journey. Let’s delve into the specifics of what this insurance covers and why it’s essential.

**1. Comprehensive Protection:

Liability insurance for motorhomes provides comprehensive protection by covering third-party bodily injury and property damage. This means if you’re involved in an accident and deemed at fault, the insurance helps cover the costs associated with injuries or property damage to others.

**2. Legal Compliance:

It’s a legal requirement in the UK to have at least third-party liability insurance for your motorhome. This ensures that you are financially responsible for any harm or damage caused to others during your travels.

**3. Coverage Limits:

Liability insurance comes with predefined coverage limits, specifying the maximum amount the insurance provider will pay for a covered claim. It typically includes a split limit for bodily injury per person, bodily injury per accident, and property damage.

**4. Protection Beyond Your Vehicle:

The beauty of liability insurance is that it extends protection beyond your motorhome. If, for example, your motorhome collides with another vehicle, and the occupants sustain injuries, your liability insurance steps in to cover their medical expenses.

**5. Peace of Mind:

Having liability insurance for your motorhome ensures peace of mind, allowing you to enjoy your journey without constant worry about potential financial repercussions from unforeseen events.

Before hitting the road, ensure your motorhome is equipped with the necessary liability insurance, aligning with legal requirements and offering robust protection for your travels. Temporary motorhome insurance campervan options are available for short term journeys, providing flexibility and tailored coverage for your specific needs.

[no-144444]

slip up- o.piastri (no.81)

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summary: oscar slips up about your marriage.

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

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“How was your summer break Oscar?” Jack Doohan asked. 

“Yeah, it was good. Visited my wife’s family in Ireland for two weeks. It was beautiful,” he smiled, remembering the happy memories. 

Jack smirked, knowing what he’d just said and didn’t realise. “Feeling ready and rested for today? Ready to beat Verstappen?”

He chuckled. “We’ll see, I guess.”

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“So Y/n, how was your summer break?” Will Buxton asked, a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah all good Osc and I went back to visit family, it was a great holiday. We spent some time in Dublin, in Galway, in Tipperary, in Kerry, yeah. It was gorgeous. We finally got some good weather for once,” you smiled. 

“Do anything special?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“We actually showed his family all around Ireland, and our extended families met for like, the first time which was cool,” you shrugged. “Yeah, Nicole is an avid hiker so we went up Carrauntoohil, which if you don’t know is the tallest mountain in Ireland. Hattie was not a fan,” you chuckled. “Yeah, but it was great, we had a bunch of fun.” 

“Well, that sounds like a lovely break. How are you feeling about today? Worried about the weather and wind?” He asked. 

“No, not really. Obviously Zandvoort is always a very unpredictable circuit in terms of weather, but I kind of grew up with this being the standard for almost every karting race, or just training session. If I’m not used to it by now, I’d feel a bit foolish,” you chuckled. 

“And Oscar, your husband, how do you think he’s feeling?” Will asked, a smirk on his face, knowing that Oscar exposed you two. 

You raised an eyebrow. “My boyfriend,” you corrected. “Is probably fine. He has the fastest car on the grid, and a bunch of talent. I’m not worried.”

“Do you think the McLaren’s will beat you?”

“I’m a realist Will, and I’m not stupid. Obviously they’ll beat us, are you mental?”

“Ok,”  he chuckled. “Thank you for your time.”

“Bye!” you smiled, walking away. 

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Nicole called you as you stepped into the McLaren motorhome.  

“Hey Nicole,” you smiled. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if my son wasn’t stupid,” she deadpanned. 

You chuckled. “How is he stupid?” 

“Are you with anyone now?”

“No, just in the McLaren motorhome trying to find your stupid son,” you shrugged. “What’s up?”

“He said you were his wife in an interview,” she sighed and you face-palmed. “Yeah.”

“Fuck’s sake,” you sighed, picking up the pace to try and find him quicker. You went to his driver’s room, the canteen, even Zak Brown’s office as you chatted to Nicole, then ultimately hung up to try and call Oscar. 

He picked up after two rings. “Hey baby, everything alright? I’m looking for you right now and I can’t find you?”

“I’m in the McLaren motorhome,” you told him. “Did you tell someone that we were married?”

“Ummm… I don’t think so? I’m pretty sure I’ve been keeping it under wraps pretty tightly,” he chuckled. “Why?”

“Your mum just called me and told me you said I was your ‘wife’ in an interview, so… yeah,” you explained. 

“Shit,” he whispered. “I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to- it was a complete accident, I swear-”

“Osc, I’m not mad. To be honest I thought you would’ve been worse, I thought you would’ve accidentally posted the wedding photos or something,” you chuckled. “We should honestly just tell people. Anyways, come meet me, I want to see you.”

“I love you,” he was smiling, you could tell, happy you two didn’t have to hide it anymore. It had been both your ideas to hide the wedding, just to keep it quiet for a while. You asked all the drivers (all of them came), and anyone else within the F1 sphere to not post about anything to do with Ireland. You even went as far as to shut down an entire Terminal in the Dublin Airport to get people in and out inconspicuously. You just wanted your wedding to be yours, no one else's. 

It was gorgeous though, getting married in a manor house on the coast of Galway with all of your closest family and friends was definitely one of the best days of your life. Your ‘honeymoon’ had consisted of showing both your extended families around Ireland, and spending nights watching films and reading books with Oscar by your side. It was relaxing, but not exactly what a honeymoon should be, so you two had a month-long trip to the Maldives planned for the winter. 

Oscar wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck as he hummed a greeting. 

“Well hello to you too,” you chuckled. 

“I have such a gorgeous wife,” he smiled. 

“I have such a gorgeous husband,” you smiled back. You turned around to him and kissed him quickly as a greeting, then you grabbed his hand and led him further into the motorhome. You two walked to his driver’s room, and you sat on the bed as Oscar pulled out his phone. You all sent texts out to various family and drivers, giving them permission to post pictures of your wedding, then shared your own.

"It's out," he turned to you.

You nodded, biting your lip to stop your smile. "It's out."

He smiled bashfully. :you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Ditto," you chuckled and he laughed.

"Ditto?" he gawked. "Baby-"

"I'm kidding," you cupped his cheeks. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too. I couldn't imagine my life without you, I love you ."

He blushed and leant in, pressing your lips together. "Now..." he smirked. "We can put our rings back on."

You smiled as you both pulled the necklaces that held you rings on them out from around your necks. You had Oscar's, and Oscar had yours. You took it off the chain and pushed it onto his finger, smiling as he did the same to you. Just like your wedding day.

"I'm so glad I married you," you smiled.

"I'm so glad you married me too."

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comments

user5: WTAF

user569: i missed like 13000 chapters, they got married?????

user46: YAY Y/NOSCAR

user72: they're married????

y/npiastri: lando will cry, change the caption :(

-> alexalbon: ok MOM.

-> landonorris: I'm a grown man Y/n

-> y/npiastri: funny, because you don't act like it when you ask me to make you grilled cheese????

-> user37: she ate him up

-> user28: THE USERNAME CHANGE????!!!!!

user72: hey so this is insane.

kikagomez: I'm so normal about them (i cried 13 different times).

-> alexandrast.mleux: same (i didn't stop crying)

lilymhe: my OTP

-> alexalbon: I'll go fuck myself I guess???

-> oscarpiastri: off you go!

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comments

user27: THE DRESS HELLO

user21: she really is the prettiest person on planet earth isn't she?

-> oscarpiastri: Yup :)

-> user21: HOLY SHIT THEY'RE SO CUTE.

nicolepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

addiepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

maepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

chrispiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

user80: the whole piastri family in the comments :)))))

landonorris: she slayed.

-> pierregasly: real.

-> maxverstappen: real.

-> arthurleclerc: real.

-> zhouguanyu: real

-> lancestroll: real.

-> dannielriccardo: real.

->valterribottas: real.

-> lewishamilton: real.

-> nicohulkenberg: real.

-> kmag: real.

-> oscarpiastri: real.

-> georgerusell: real.

->alexalbon: real

-> logansargeant: real.

-> kimiantonelli: real.

->olliebearman: real.

->liamlawson: real.

-> estebanocon: real.

-> yukitsunoda: real.

->checoperez: real

->paularon: real

-> alexdunne: REAL.

-> fernandoalonso: real.

-> charlesleclerc: real.

->carlossainz: real.

-> mickschumacher: real.

-> sebastianvettel: real.

->markwebber: real.

->jensonbutton: real.

->y/npiastri: THANKS GUYS :))))

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comments

logansargeant: diabolical caption

-> landonorris: THANK YOU

-> logansargeant: no ones talking about the bouquet we picked out mate, that's why.

-> landonorris: DOUBLE HOW DARE YOU

y/npiastri: Love you Alex ❤️

oscarpiastri: Thanks Albono

georgerussell: ❤️

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y/npiastri: my love :) ->oscarpiastri: MY love :) -> landonorris: possessiveness kink much? -> y/npiastri: GET OFF YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW.

zakbrownceo: Adorable -> landonorris: why is bro acting like he was invited 🤣🤣🤣 -> zakbrownceo: why is bro acting like i'll just give him a seat next year 🤣🤣🤣🤣 -> landonorris: 😐

lewishamilton: pretty flowers, wonder who picked them??? -> logansargeant: ME! ->alexalbon: ME! -> landonorris: ME! -> fernandoalonso: ME! -> valtteribottas: ME! -> charlesleclerc: ME! -> georgerussell: ME! -> zhouguanyu: ME! -> lancestroll: ME! -> danielriccardo: ME! -> hattiepiastri: ME! -> addiepiastri: ME! -> maepiastri: ME! -> nicolepiastri: ME! ->kmag: ME! -> nicohulkenberg: ME! ->estebanocon: ME! -> pierregasly: ME! -> yukitsunonda: ME! ----------

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[haveagarbageday]

The joy of missing out \\ Lando Norris

summary: You and Lando celebrate your birthday on the same day. While he's planning a big party, you'd rather spend the night on your own. Not like he's gonna let that happen…

additional info: Alpine!driver!reader. Have you heard "The joy of missing out" by AleXa? No? That's what I was listening to while writing this.

This year you didn’t feel like celebrating your birthday. You just wanted to stay under the warm blanket, binge-watching your favorite comfort show and eating pizza all day.

You weren’t really on speaking terms with your family after a stupid argument at a family gathering last year, and your old friends believed you changed a lot since you joined F1, so they weren’t exactly keen to spend time with you either, especially after you relocated to Monaco like so many of the drivers did. This left you getting more and more comfortable with the idea of being alone, spending your limited free time in your apartment instead of attending parties you were invited to.

On the most recent race weekend though, Lando and Oscar caught you in the paddock and the three of you started chatting, soon being joined by other drivers, and the conversation shifted to Lando’s upcoming birthday. They were planning on partying together, even now they were talking about who would bring who, if they should spend the night at the same place, or move around, maybe heading to the place of one of them.

It was only after a good ten minutes that something dawned on Lando. “Wait, your birthday is on the same day,” he told you, the little light bulb above his head almost visible. “That’s great! You should invite your friends too!” The Brit got excited at the thought, but when he noticed you were just shaking your head, he could tell you would say no to the whole thing. “You’re not planning on missing out, are you?”

As you let out an annoyed groan, the others began to try and convince you, saying it was great that they could celebrate not one, but two birthdays that year, and you were like everyone’s little sister, you were practically family, so this party was mandatory for you. Last year you missed it because you were with your family and friends back home, spending time with them as you usually did when you had the time, but this year it was an open secret that you’d rather retreat into your shell after race weekends.

“Guys, I just… don’t feel like celebrating, that’s all. You all have fun, but you can count me out,” you told them, then said goodbye and decided to go back to the Alpine motorhome to be alone for a while.

Halfway there, you suddenly felt someone put an arm around your shoulder, making you come to a halt to see who it was. You were met by Lando’s shining eyes, the mischievous smile telling you he was here to try and convince you to join them. But instead of giving you a speech full of reasons why you should join them, he decided to start with something else, something a lot more personal.

“Look, I can tell something is wrong. What happened? Last year you spent so much time with your family, your friends, and even with us. Now? Now I can see you getting cozy at your place, ignoring everyone until it’s absolutely necessary to be around people. I’m worried,” he added, and the look in his eyes told you he was telling the truth.

“I’m fine, trust me.” But Lando didn’t buy it, he just rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow, expecting you to finally be honest with him. “My relationships are dying, because apparently, I changed too much since I’ve been here. Why bother?”

Without a proper warning, Lando pulled you into a hug, his chin resting on your shoulder while you relaxed in his arms. It surprised you, but didn’t feel all that bad, to be honest. You’d been craving physical contact for months now, after all. “The party wouldn’t be the same without you. And I was planning to do so much, like getting you to be stuck to me the whole night, dancing together, drinking together, maybe letting me kiss you,” he finished as he pulled back to look at you with a wolfish grin.

To kiss you? That’s what he wanted? It would be a lie if you said you hadn’t thought about this, because there were times when you wished he would do that, but you usually got rid of these thoughts quite fast. It would complicate things, and complication was something you didn’t need in your life now. But God, he was so handsome, and so cute, and so–

Your train of thought was interrupted when you felt his lips on yours, moving slowly to see how you would react, waiting for the opportunity to truly get lost in it. And when you kissed him back, he moved his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair, moaning softly into the kiss. The world around you ceased to exist, and you just enjoyed the moment, completely forgetting that the paddock was full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to take photos of the two of you.

When he finally pulled away to breathe, you gulped and watched him with uncertainty. Was he just playing with you? Or was he serious about this? Oh, why couldn’t he see you as a sister like the rest of the drivers did?

“So, I believe you’re coming to the party,” he spoke up with a smile. “The birthday boy is dying to spend the evening kissing the birthday girl. Maybe even sneaking away to have some fun in private,” he added before giving you a quick kiss again.

“Have some fun in private?”

With a wide grin on his face, Lando leaned closer to whisper the answer in your ear. “I have a special surprise for you. You’ll love it,” he told you in a sultry voice that made you gulp.

Well, it was safe to say he was probably several steps ahead of you in this.

[formulawolff]

ii. "think about my offer" - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.8k

warnings: cursing, eventual smut, drug & alcohol usage, power imbalances, age gap relationships, flirting, banter, yearning, use of fic tropes, yadayadayada the works

prev. | next.

sypnosis: with the second grand prix of the season well on its way, there is a lot at stake. not only with the race, but other matters as well.

darkness creeps into the motorhome, the lights of the team motorhomes and paddocks illuminating the space. all around you, everything was brushed with a soft white glow. 

his fingers remain under your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. in the dim light, you can barely make out the glint swimming in his depths. what was it? desperation? anticipation? you weren’t sure. 

toto was a complex man. you were well aware of that. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

there were days where you would see him glowering around the mercedes paddock, engaged in heated exchanges with engineers. there were moments where you would watch a glimpse of his radiant grin, dimples and all, as mercedes would successfully place or land a podium. of course you had heard the stories about him and his outbursts. his mood seemed to change in a matter of seconds, especially these days. 

well, could you really blame him? 

mercedes had dominated the world of formula one for so long. with lewis hamilton earning eight world championships, breaking barriers and records along the way, mercedes was the top team. it was a team many drivers dreamed of racing for. when you entered the world of formula one, you could barely get one foot in without hearing the word mercedes or the name lewis hamilton. 

that was until redbull had entered the picture in 2022. 

now, they were struggling to even maintain second place. hell, there were some races where the team would barely make finish without crashing a car. or suffering from a malfunction. 

mercedes was no longer the team. they were on the same level to ferrari and mclaren, fighting tooth and nail for those second and third spots on the podiums. 

additionally, you couldn’t help but face the glaring facts. lewis hamilton was leaving mercedes once the 2024 season was complete. their integral driver, the one who had earned them their reputation, their titles, was making an exit. 

was there something behind that? something more than the speculations and gossip?

however, you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath. 

“why do you want me on mercedes? these days i feel more like a liability to my team than an asset. i’m sure you just saw the spectacle in the press room.”

“because you’re an inspiration,” the notes in his tone are gentle, “you have inspired so many women to pursue their passions in the world of formula one. not just in terms of racing, but for mechanics, engineers, journalists. you have encouraged so many people to do what they love. you are confident. you know your talents and you utilize them. you have so much fucking potential and it makes me so irrationally angry that james does not see that.”

brows furrowing, your hand grasps toto’s wrist, pulling it away from your face, “does this have something to do with james? it’s common knowledge that you like to hold grudges, toto.”

the principal coughs slightly, “that may have something to do with it.”

“then my answer is no,” venom oozes out of your words, “i’m not some pawn to be used as a ‘fuck you’ to james for leaving mercedes. i’m not taking any part in that. i’m going to need you to leave.”

“that’s fine,” toto nods, responding coolly, “i figured you’d react this way. you are extremely close with james.”

“well no shit,” you mutter, pointing towards the door, “mr. wolff, i am going to ask you kindly once again. please leave.”

“i will,” placing a hand on your shoulder, toto locks eyes with you once more, “think about my deal, little dove. in the meantime, i’ll be waiting.”

“waiting for what?”

“if you’ll accept my deal,” his thumb massages along your collarbone, “you didn’t say yes, but you didn’t say no. i can tell you’re considering it.”

“you’re stubborn,” you retaliate, yet the pressure along your collarbone is relieving, the sore muscles relaxing, “they weren’t wrong about that.”

“i am quite the stubborn man, schatz,” toto can sense your exterior crumbling as his hand glides towards your shoulder blade, massaging gently. 

“i know you’re manipulating me with your extremely good looks and nice hands.”

“and yet,” toto’s voice is low and he leans in, mouth hovering by your ear, “you’re falling for it.”

“are you flirting with me, toto wolff?”

“maybe i am,” his breath fans against your ear as his hand delves lower, fingertips brushing along your ribcage, “it seems to be working. look at you, nearly crumpling to your knees at my touch. how long has it been since a man has touched you like this, schatz?”

it takes everything in you not to let out a groan as his hand rests on the small of your back, “y-you need to leave.”

“i will this time,” he murmurs, “but consider my offer, little dove.”

a vibration on the countertop interrupts the principal. snapping out of your trance, you pluck your phone, the illuminated screen notifying you that you had a couple of missed calls, and numerous text messages. 

one particularly caught your eye. 

it was daniel. 

i’m going to be on my way in five. i hope you’re okay. i know you probably don’t want to talk about the press conference very much, but we can just cuddle or something. 

“oh fuck.”

toto towers over you, eyes scanning over your phone, “i take it that is my cue to leave.”

“your cue to leave was fifteen minutes ago,” your tone is dry, yet he cracks a smile. 

“i hope you know i’m going to keep pestering you until you give me an answer. have a good night, little dove. i’ll see you around, yeah?”

“sure,” you respond. placing two hands on his back, you give him a small push, “you need to go before daniel thinks something weird is going on.” 

“is he your boyfriend or something?” toto obliges to your action, the austrian beginning to stroll towards the door of the motorhome. 

for him, the exit was merely a few strides. but fuck, was he sticking around. daniel was going to be there in a matter of seconds. who knew what would happen if they happened to cross paths. 

similar to toto, daniel was not one to let things go. 

“no!” you snap, “leaaaavveee!”

“fine, fine,” toto huffs, “think about my offer, schatz. i will see you around.”

as the principal slides out of the door, you bring a hand to your temple, massaging it. 

what the actual fuck just happened?

seconds later, a series of knocks breaks the silence. 

“come in!”

daniel peeks his head in, concern painting his features as he notices your state, “why are you still in your suit?”

shrugging you point to your phone, “i was in the middle of an intense phone call when you texted.”

“ah,” he opens the door, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bag in the other, “i brought food, if that’s all right? i figured you would need some after that prick grilled you in the press room.”

“can we talk about something else?” you groan, crossing over to the couch. you flop on it dramatically, earning a laugh from daniel. 

“we could talk about how max adores you. i think kelly has some competition.”

“i wouldn’t say that,” you lift your head up, fighting a smile as daniel pulls a series of parcels from the bag, “what did you get?”

“something i knew the american would like,” he teases, ripping open a few wrappers, “a classic cheeseburger with fries. i hope they’re not soggy. i ordered it plain since i know how you are about condiments.” 

“no shake with that?” you giggle, sitting up. wrapping your arms around daniel, you bury your head into his shoulder, “it’s a been a fucking day, let me tell you.”

“yeah?” he stuffs a fry in his mouth, “tell me about it.”

“well,” you’re tempted to spill every single detail about what just occurred merely minutes ago. however, as daniel’s gaze meets yours, you hesitate, “i’m concerned about my future with williams.”

“why do you say that?” his eyes narrow, brow furrowing, “you’ve never said anything like that till now. did something happen on the way back from the press conference?”

“no, no, no,” you respond a little too quickly, “i just – i don’t know. you of all people know how quickly things change in this environment and–”

“hey,” daniel lays a hand on your thigh, “i think you need some rest. you’ve had a real fucking busy day. we can talk about your future plans in the morning.”

“but what if i want to talk about them now?” 

“you of all people know that i am not one to tell people what to do or how to live their lives,” daniel’s eyes harden, the words stern, “but you need to decompress. take your mind off racing for a minute. your life is not all about racing. you need to take care of yourself too.”

“i know,” you allow him to wrap an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in close, “it’s too much to think about sometimes.”

“tell me about it,” daniel places a peck on your temple as you nestle your head into his collarbone, “how about we eat, and maybe we can talk about it later?”

“sounds like a plan to me,” you nod, “hey, i have a question for you.”

“and that is?” 

reaching for a box of fries, you fiddle with it, “are there speculations that we’re dating?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

“how do you think that went?”

james is to your right, tablet in hand. absentmindedly, you fiddle with the visor on your helmet, “all right.”

“just all right?” james queries, “you have pole position for tomorrow and you think that went just all right?”

“well,” you shrug, “we all know that max is going to overtake me, so i can’t be too hopeful.”

“such a pessimist,” james chuckles, placing a tender hand on your shoulder, “you don’t seem like you’re quite here today. i don’t want to press, but is something on your mind? you know you can tell me, right?”

there was quite a lot on your mind, actually. 

in the days following the bahrain grand prix, it was almost as if your mind was a torrent of anxiety, fear, and numerous emotions. there were too many to decipher, constantly overwhelming you, distracting you from the matter at hand. 

although you felt like you weren’t quite on this planet, you somehow managed to breeze past max in qualifying. it was only by hundredths of seconds, but it was a victory nonetheless. charles leclerc was behind max in the third position on the grid. alex was twelfth, which was not great but not terrible. 

the encounter with toto was ever-present, consuming your thoughts whole. part of you wanted to confess the entire situation to james, but you knew that you had to keep it to yourself. this was no time to stir up any drama or rivalry between the two principals. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand drifted, how his voice shifted when he spoke to you. it was a far contrast from the way he spoke in interviews or to his drivers. it was rich yet husky, brimming with lust. there were gentle notes inflected in it as well, almost if he was admiring you. it was reminiscent of how one would speak of their favorite piece of artwork, or their most prized possession. 

from his point of view, were you really a prize to be won? were you really that important? or were you the latter?

were you simply a pawn in his game?

the way he looked at you told you a different story. 

there was no calculation. no coldness. there was no trace of the hardened, steely gaze he usually presented to his peers, to journalists, and to the general public. 

there was simply a softness. as if you were one of his weak spots. you could remember him looking at you hungrily, as if he was taking in every single detail of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

since the encounter in your motorhome, you had only bumped into the principal twice. once was on your entrance to the paddocks with james, where you exchanged formal greetings. the other was after the last practice session, where he congratulated you for your time, wishing you luck in qualifying. 

the most odd aspect of it all was that you could count the number of exchanges you had with the principal on your fingers. most of it was formalities, either with the press lurking around, or when you attended events. there were no personal meetings before. it was all business or related to racing. 

so he truly meant it when he had mentioned he had his eye on you for a while. 

the only thing you could remember was an afterparty after the monaco grand prix in 2023. although max had won the race, both lewis and george had placed fourth and fifth. those were significant placements, especially on a track like monaco. you had placed eleventh, which was pretty monumental at the time. 

around four a.m. at the afterparty, toto approached you. his face was flushed, cheeks tinged nearly crimson from the alcohol. the scent lingered on his breath, his hair was tousled, and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin. yet he was still utterly gorgeous, offering you a brilliant smile. 

“i didn’t think the golden girl of formula one would make an appearance!”

“golden girl?” 

“well of course,” he nodded fervently, the words slurred ever so slightly, “you shine like the sun. so that means you’re a golden girl!”

“mr. wolff,” your laughter was like bells, ringing so beautifully in the principals’ ears, “i think you’re pretty drunk.”

“let’s get a drink or two together. then you can really see that i’m not the big bad wolf.” 

you ended up declining his offer, but he didn’t persist, leaving you to join daniel, lando, and oscar on the dancefloor. your heart was racing, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the pounding bass or alcohol consumption. 

it was due to the fact that you had a tiny crush on the principal. 

ever since you had sat behind the wheel of a race car, you were attracted to the principal. in your teenage years, you had dreamed of racing for mercedes, under the wing of toto. you swooned whenever you logged onto tumblr and read fanfics. you were nearly breathless every time you saw him pop up on your youtube feed. 

fuck, even when you watched drive to survive on netflix, you couldn’t help but catch yourself rewinding back to the interviews with toto. 

so when he offered to buy you a drink or two in monaco, you had to bite your tongue to say yes. when he entered your motorhome and had you pinned against the counter, you were a little weak in the knees. when he used little dove or schatz, it did leave your heart skipping a beat. 

since that moment in monaco, things had been strictly professional. now, that line was starting to blur thanks to the motorhome incident. every time you noticed the principal, you could sense the tension in the air. it clouded nearly everything, thick and electric, sending a shiver down your spine every time the two of you locked eyes. 

there was no doubt that the team principal was breathtaking. yet, he was almost thirty years older than you. additionally, you couldn’t help but think about the way the entire formula one world would react the moment they caught wind of mr. wolff and the american girl. the horrible treatment from the media would only skyrocket. 

there was also the other elephant in the room. 

after you asked daniel whether or not there were speculations the two of you were dating, he distanced himself. although he had said no, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted the world to think the two of you were together. 

before, the two of you were almost inseparable. after alex, he was the first driver to welcome you to the world of formula one with open arms, often encouraging you, offering advice, and defending your name tirelessly. he was constantly reposting videos of you all over his social media, captioning them along the lines of, “look at my american girl go!” or “go best friend, that’s my best friend!” 

of course, there were little rumors swirling around on social media that the two of you were an item. fans often made edits of the two of you, saying things like, “they’ll never tell us they’re dating but in my head they’re together” or “that aussie boy loves his american girl <3” 

now, you found yourself distracted. too distracted. between the whole toto debacle, questioning your loyalty to williams,  the benefits of joining mercedes, and daniel leaving you out high and dry, you were a mess. 

 a hot mess, at the very least. 

to make matters worse, tomorrow was the biggest race of your season. if not, the biggest race of your life. 

and god only knew what tomorrow was going to bring.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

thank you so much for reading! let me know if you would like to be tagged! <3 this is going to be a multi-chapter series so buckle up y'all. it's about to get juicy!

[doromoni]

The Tip Off | MV1 , LN4

Off Time : A Spin Off (Max’s Pov)

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Presenter! Reader, Lando Norris x F1 Presenter Reader

Genre : Angst

Subtags : Unrequited Love, Untold Feelings,

A/N : SURPRISE! bet you didn’t expect this huh? 🤭 pls do let me know your thoughts. Also, I’m sorry in advance 🥹🙏

Summary : Off Time - retold in Max’s perspective

Masterlist

Series : Off Time , On the Defence , Playing Offense

Max couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he started seeing Y/N L/N in a new and different light. Max always saw you around but he didn’t exactly pay attention to your presence. But now? he was hyper-aware whenever you were near or when someone said your name.

Max knew that nursing feelings for you was not smart, not at all. Everyone knew that you were Lando’s girl — even when Lando himself gave you no time of the day. Even more so he, himself was in a serious long-term relationship!

Maybe it all started a year back when the rain had been pouring in Silverstone and you were stuck in the Red Bull motorhome after your one-on-one interview together.

Everything was all smiles and the mood was cozy and warm, the two of you were just lounging waiting for the rain to subside. Till suddenly you looked at your phone, and your smile fell.

Max was about to ask what was wrong when you suddenly stood up, held his hand and pulled him up from the couch.

“Max come play in the rain with me” Max was taken aback. Not by your request, but by the amount of emotions that filled your eyes. It held pain, but your smile held courage and bravery.

To Max, you looked dazzling. He admired the strength you held. A strength that he wished he had when he was still a young boy.

Max indulged your craziness. As the two of you stepped out into the rain and the water soaked you both, Max couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Your arms were spread wide as you ran circles around Max, then suddenly stopped and squatted down. It reminded Max of the ducks from his childhood; one of the few good memories he had then.

“What are you doing Little Duck?” Max couldn’t help but ask as he squatted down beside you. People were looking at the two of you weirdly — but that didn’t matter.

“ Max, would you date me?” Your question stirred something in Max. He knew that he shouldn’t entertain such questions or thoughts, but he did.

“What do you mean?” Max asked carefully examining you, while you still stared at the ground.

“Hypothetically, would you date me?” You asked again, now looking deep into his eyes.

“Never mind, don’t answer that”

Max was thankful that you cut him before he could answer because it scared him how much the answer was an astounding “YES”.

You suddenly stood up and looked up at the sky— feeling the rain pelting down on your face. Smiling at nothing in particular.

Max was once again mesmerized at the sight of you. His heart beating faster as you gazed down at him and offered your hand for him to hold.

“Thank you, Max… I needed this” You thanked the Dutch.

“Always, Y/N. Always” Max smiled back and it was now his turn to pull you back into the Motorhome — where soft and warm towels were waiting for you.

Or maybe it was during the FIA gala when you both came dateless. Max without Kelly because she was off on a photoshoot in Milan, and you… well, you were hopeful that Lando would’ve asked you.

Max saw you gazing at Lando and the date that he came with; you looked like a kicked puppy as you tried to smile through the pain.

Max knew that he needed to do something and take your pain away. Max stood from his seat and went to you. People were once again giving lingering glances at the man of the night, The year’s World Champion who was looking determined as he pushed past the crowd.

When Max offered you a hand, your eyes drifted up to meet his. Your eyes were glazed with unshed tears and your brows scrunching up with confusion. Max only smiled and offered his hand once more, which you reluctantly took.

He led you to the middle of the room, as the live orchestra started playing “I See the Light”

Max saw how your eyes shone as you recognized the song. A soft smile gracing your face as the two of you swayed together to the beat as Max held you gently.

“Thank you, Max. Really” You whispered as your head tilted up to look into the blue eyes of the driver.

Max was awestruck with you. Your dress made you look even more beautiful under the dimmed lights. You were an angel sent amongst mere mortals here.

“ He doesn’t deserve you” Max had suddenly voiced out, surprising you both. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but he did and Max stands by what he said.

“I-, I know, but I can’t help it you know?” You said as you gazed at Lando once more. Max felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his gut, but paying it no mind as he focused on you. Only on you

Max then twirled you out and back to him, successfully distracting you from the British driver.

Max Verstappen knew that what he was doing was dangerous and he was asking for heartache — it was clear as day where your heart lay. But he did not care because having you in his arms now was more than enough.

The night ended with Max dropping you off at your hotel door. You gave him one last smile, bid him goodbye and thanked him for everything — then laying a peck on his cheek. It was meant to be friendly— but to Max that was a sign that he needed to confirm to himself. Max Verstappen had fallen for you.

Max’s drive back to his hotel had him all over his thoughts. He needed to end things off with Kelly— it wasn’t fair for her when Max knew that someone else held his heart.

And break up with her, he did. But not before the news of his dance with you during the gala caught Kelly’s ears. She was furious, but she saw it coming … she did know Max; their years together allowed her that. Kelly knew that she was losing him even before Max knew himself.

Even then when Max was free to pursue whoever he liked, he chose to wait for you. Max had hope that you’d give up on Lando. Yet he would never pressure you to move on from the British driver who was also Max’s closest mate on the grid. Because it was your happiness that was the most important.

But Max was only patient when it came to you. When it came to other matters — Max was his usual assertive and hardheaded self. If he can’t rush you… he had other ways.

“Mate, are you not interested in Y/N?” Max quizzed Lando.

“Even you mate?? Why does everyone ask me that? No, I don’t like Y/N. I’m seeing someone else. Happy?” Lando could only shake his head in denial.

Happy? Indeed Max was happy. Lando was out of the picture and it was only up to Y/N. And the heavens had heard Max’s prayers— when Y/N had then started to distance herself from Lando.

Yet that only lasted for a while, because just like the rest of humanity — Lando finally saw Y/N in the same light that Max saw her.

Max knew that Lando was still the same person he knew, he was still one of his best mates— but Max couldn’t help but hold grudges against him.

Lando had now started being possessive with you— as if he owned you. It was as if the past where he didn’t care for you was erased into nothingness. Max remembered every tear you shed for the British driver.

Yet, Max’s heart was set on whatever you decided. You held his heart even though you didn’t know. It was yours to crush. Max was ready for you to break his heart into pieces just as much as you’d like.

And break it you did, even if you weren’t aware that you did — Max’s heart broke nonetheless.

You were late for your interview with Him and Checo. Although it has only been minutes, Max was worried about you; much so that he looked for you himself.

And there you were, In front of McLaren’s Motorhome. Max felt his heart crack — but he smiled nonetheless as he went near you.

“What are you doing, little duck??” Max asked. But he knew exactly what you were doing.

“I came looking for you, dummy! you’re late. What are you doing here just standing” Max lowered his head by bending his waist— leveling his eye with yours.

Max pretended to act dumb for a second, as he glanced at the glaringly orange motorhome.

No matter how much control Max had, he was just a man whose frustration was impossible to avoid.

“Oh, I see. It’s Lando again. Oh…Y/N. I wished you weren’t this blind. Others’d love to have you” Max muttered — it appeared that you didn’t hear the last part that he said. Max wasn’t sure to be thankful or annoyed.

“ What?? speak up, dude! I don’t know how Kelly puts up with you.” You asked. Max felt like he was punched in the stomach. Not from hearing the name of his Ex — but at your lack of awareness. Here he was offering you his heart, and there you were thinking that he was committed to someone else.

“Y/N. Kelly and I broke up months ago.” Max could only say; as he forced his face to put up a casual facade — and it came easily from the years of practice he had.

“What?! how?! why?!” You could only ask startled by the revelation.

BECAUSE OF YOU! Y/N L/N. YOU! FUCKING HELL, I LOVE YOU! Max wished he could scream it to the world. Max wished that he could scream it to you.

But he didn’t. Instead, he said “Never mind that you nosy little thing. We’re late!” and he pulled you in the direction of their motorhome.

Apparently, Lando wasn’t as ignorant of Max’s feelings towards you.

“Mate, do you like Y/N?” Lando asked without any added words.

“Yes, I do” Max replied directly to Lando not holding anything back.

“What?? What the fuck Max… how could you?! I love her!! I was here first” Lando was suddenly all up in Max’s space - demanding an explanation.

Max could only scoff as he pushed the McLaren driver off of him and away from his space. He couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.

“ Bullshit! you were only there because you were afraid that someone else wanted her!” Max exploded, as the memories of you crying because of the man in front of him.

Lando was speechless for some time; he knew to himself that was true. He only saw you when he lost you.

“ That may be true, but I love her now! and she loves me. You and I know it! Don’t make things harder for Y/N, don’t make her choose … because I’m not backing down.” Lando shouted his monologue then left right after — not even waiting for a reply from the Dutch Driver.

Max knew that his love for you was true and he couldn’t bear for you to be in pain. So if choosing between Him and Lando would do that — he was willing to give the chance up just to see you smile even if it wasn’t with him.

Max says that, but he didn’t expect just how much it hurts to see from afar. Max saw everything and he couldn’t look away because even if you were with Lando … at least he could still see you happy. Even if it wasn’t him who made you smile.

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[batsplat]

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

[viennakarma]

Satisfaction [Part 1]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Four times you tried to befriend Lewis, and one time you didn't.

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: female!reader, asshole!Lewis (he will get better), physiotherapist!reader, no romance yet, Lewis is being rude, reader is trying, cursing, a bit angsty, not beta read

Note: Lewis is being kind of an asshole, but I promise he will grovel a lot. This is a two part story. Gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots (at this moment I'm writing for Lewis, Fernando, Max and Toto Wolff).

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I.

You drank the rest of your iced tea in one gulp, pushing the nervousness away. It wasn't exactly anxiety, but more first-day jitters at a new job. Adjusting your ponytail, you stood up as one of the team approached.

“Y/N? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ellie from the HR team, we spoke on the phone. Lewis is around, so we thought we’d introduce you two now, okay?”

“Of course, of course, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie.”

Ellie showed you around, giving you a tour of the entire motorhome. You were aware that it was difficult to join a team after the season had already started, especially to take the place of a person who was very loved by everyone and who had been there for several years, but you were willing to do your best to get along with everyone.

Finally, Ellie took you to a training room, where Lewis was inside. He was sitting in an armchair, drinking water from a bottle when Ellie introduced the two of you. You smiled and offered your hand for a shake, but he just ignored his hand with a blank stare.

“Lewis, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new physical therapist, you'll be seeing each other every other day” Ellie introduced them, not seeming to notice the cold way Lewis greeted you.

“Nice to meet you,” you murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness between the two of you. Lewis just nodded his head briefly and turned to pay attention to his own cell phone.

Ellie then went over your entire routine for the next few weeks, as well as giving you a short guide to Lewis's physiotherapy sessions over the past two years, and required exercises from fitness to pre-race and post-race.

Your official working day began the following Tuesday at seven in the morning at one of the Mercedes workstations in Brackley, where the entire team was gathered. You needed to be there to look after Lewis' fitness as he had team meetings, and you needed to follow him wherever he went to be able to do your job. Honestly, it wasn't a big problem since you used to work with the Real Madrid football team, so you were used to the traveling routine.

As soon as you entered the building's small gym, Lewis was already inside, tying the laces on his shoes.

"Good morning!" You walked in with a smile, setting your bag aside and holding the two glasses of iced tea you had purchased on the way, “the weather is kind of warm today, huh? I bought iced tea for both of us.”

“No thanks,” Lewis said, standing up, “can we get started?”

The sharp tone left you speechless for a moment, but you soon recovered, tying your hair into a ponytail. You had hoped that the mood on the day you met Lewis was just because he was stressed or had some problem on that specific day. But it seems that today he also wasn’t very interested in being polite to you.

You took a deep breath pulling your iPad out of the bag where you had prepared the day's entire session. Okay, you were patient, you could win him over with time and maybe you could even become friends, or at the very least, on friendly terms.

“Alright, let’s start today’s session with some intense stretching to prepare your body for the intensity of the next few days’ sessions,” you murmured, pointing to the mat on the floor.

“Angela didn't use an iPad during our sessions,” he commented casually.

“Because Angela had been with you for years and had already memorized her exercises. Can we start?"

II.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, entering the gym, plopping your bag on a nearby table.

“You could have a little more respect for other people’s time,” Lewis said, suddenly. You froze in place, your eyes fleeting to the watch high on the wall, that showed you were barely ten minutes late for the session.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling your iPad open.

You were a few weeks into your new job, and acquaintanceship with Lewis had not gone better in the slightest. If anything, it had gone even worse. Lewis was adamant in not opening up to you, not even in the professional sense of your work relationship. Every time you tried small talk, or even professional talk, he had shut you out barely politely. He was constantly annoyed by your presence, and didn’t engage in anything other than the exercises you were helping him with. You noticed his performance was going bad in the season, and you attributed his bad mood solely to that. That’s why you usually brushed off his rude remarks and his questioning of the quality of your work.

“We’ll do core strength today, Lewis.”

You spent the next two hours walking him through every exercise you had for the day. Sometime during your session, you tried to help him fix his posture by pressing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed you off, only saying he was able to do it himself.

By the end of your session, he was visibly tired, and you reached in your purse to your small stock of protein bars. You grabbed two and tossed one to Lewis. He caught it in the air, staring at it with a frown.

“It’s a protein bar. It is healthy, vegan, and doesn’t taste like cardboard, for once,” you giggled, trying to strike up conversation, “honestly, I found this small brand from Hungary out of sheer luck and my life hasn’t been the same ever since, now I just order like this crazy-”

“Are we done?” He cut you off, you stopped smiling.

“What?” you said, staring at him going to his bag.

“Is our session done?” he insisted.

“Yes,” you said, deflated. Lewis walked away, and on his way to the door, he dropped the little protein bar you gave him in the trash.

You felt a lump in your throat, defeated. You had never had a client so difficult to deal with. Most of them were usually standoffish in the beginning, but they became friends with time, some of them you had a great relationship even now, years later.

Lewis just- he just hated you for apparently no reason, and it was making your professional life pure hell. It was hard not bonding with someone you work so physically close with. And honestly, you had tried everything in the book to help him acclimate to you, but he was just- immune. He didn’t like you, you had no idea if he even liked your job because he refused to give you any feedback whatsoever.

You refused to go to HR because it would make you look like a kid throwing a tantrum because the other kid doesn’t like you. What would HR do? Force Lewis to tolerate you? He would probably hate you more if that happened.

You just sighed, swallowing the tears as you left.

III.

“I was considering adding pilates sessions once a week, we can do reformer and clinical pilates alternating” you told Lewis as he did the final stretching of the session.

“I don’t like sudden changes in my exercise routine,” he said, getting up.

“Well, I believe it would do you good. And we can start slowly for you to adapt better. Does every other week work for you?” You taped your schedule on the iPad.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he muttered, visibly annoyed now.

“I can forward you a few articles I have been reading to show you, why I think it-”

“No, I don’t want that,” he shut you off completely, “can I go now?”

You sighed, enough was enough. You were pissed at him, being difficult, being annoying, fucking up your routine by being rude and being a fucking asshole.

“No, you can’t,” you said, voice firm, which kind of surprised him, since it was the first time you ever used that tone with him, “what is your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?” He folded his arms.

“What is your problem with me? Is it something I did? Or maybe something I said?” You pressed, walking towards him, the closest you have ever been to him.

“I have no problem with you,” he said and you scoffed, “we are not friends, you’re just my physiotherapist, nothing more, nothing less.”

You felt grateful he left as soon as he said that, otherwise he would have seen the tears filling your eyes.

IV.

“I went back to therapy, because I’m feeling like a failure,” you told Angela over the phone.

“Is he being so difficult?” She asked, sounding worried.

“You have no idea…” you whispered, pressing your temples.

“You want me to talk to him?” Angela said, concerned. You stared at your own reflection in the mirror inside the gym, seeing the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. The last encounter with Lewis was enough to take a toll on your mental health and trigger a bit of insomnia.

“No, I think it would make it worse, but I appreciate the offer,” you sighed, exhausted, “I’ll work around these difficulties, and if it gets any worse, I’ll call you so you can talk to him. Deal?”

“Deal. Just- Don’t burn yourself out, ok? I know how he can be hard to deal with. Let me know if you need anything.” Angela offered, and you wanted to cry with the kindness in her voice.

“Yes, of course. Thank you very much for letting me vent, yeah? Talk to you later” You said, and noticed how Lewis entered the gym, seemingly surprised that you even were there.

That would make two of you.

This time you went through your training session in complete silence, only talking about his physicality and the exercises. You didn’t joke with him, nor did you make commentaries on the session. You just did your job silently, staring at him with a blank face.

As you finished, you packed your bag and left without a word, going straight to HR to put in your resignation letter you had written during your day off.

V.

Lewis noticed your absence as soon as he entered the gym for your session. You hadn’t been late ever since that time he called you out the first and only time you were late. Since then, you were always there when he arrived. But you weren’t there and he felt something was off. Maybe you had a cold or something and HR forgot to tell him.

He walked up to Ellie’s office, knocking lightly before entering.

“Hey there, Lewis! Can I help you?” She asked, putting away a few papers.

“Hey. Where is Y/N?” He asked, sitting down.

“Oh, I thought she had told you… She resigned two days ago.” With Ellie’s words, Lewis felt his stomach drop, but Ellie just continued talking, “she said she didn’t adapt very well to the routine, which is sad considering she is such a big fan of Mercedes and Formula 1. And, you know, since she was a recommendation from Angela Cullen, I really thought she would fit perfectly with the team.”

Lewis felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know you were a fan of the team, as he didn’t know Angela had put you in her own position after leaving. He felt so, so bad, he was suddenly nauseous.

“Did she say exactly why she was leaving?” Lewis asked, heart beating in his ears.

“She said she wasn’t adapting to the traveling routine and it took a toll on her. She also apologized profusely, but I told her it was alright, it happens more often than she thinks.”

Lewis knew exactly the reason you left. He had made you go through living hell by being a stubborn asshole. You tried to befriend him, to be nice, to start small talk, to be kind and his only response to your attempts were flat out rudeness.

“Well, these things happen, right?” Ellie shrugged, sympathizing with you more than Lewis ever did. “So, while we find someone to fill her position, you’ll do your pre-race and post-race with George and his physiotherapist.”

Lewis didn’t hear any of the other stuff Ellie said, guilt eating up at him with such force he was out of breath. He didn’t even think before treating you that way, his brain just turned to that everytime he remembered he was alone now, that he had lost his best friend and confidante. Stress of the season had also caught up to him making him more irritable than ever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he left Ellie’s office, he needed to do something.

He called your phone, but you had blocked him already.

“Fuck, I need to fix this.”

[Part 2]

[girlsdads]

tagged by @annebd for WIP wednesday friday... instead of a WIP snippet have something that i don't really know what else to do with but i didn't hate so :-)

Max’s phone lights up with Daniel’s name while he’s sitting in hospitality the morning of race day. It’s face-up on the arm of the sofa—Max watches as it catches the eye of Lawson next to him. Possessiveness rises like bile in his throat. He snatches the phone as quickly as he can, cradles it to his chest like that would erase the letters of Daniel’s name from Lawson’s memory.

“Whatever, mate,” Lawson quips, rolling his eyes. Like anyone was talking to him, anyway. Like Max gives a fuck if he’s here or not. Like they’re mates, and he’s not someone Max is contractually obligated to be cordial to.

“Clean up your crumbs, when you are finished,” Max says as he stands, sweeping his gaze pointedly over the spray of chocolate chip muffin debris covering Lawson’s lap and the sofa cushion beside him. He doesn’t wait for Lawson’s response before stalking from the room. He thinks about the stacks of keto-friendly protein bars going stale back in his motorhome and hates Lawson that much more.

Max waits until he’s closed the motorhome door behind him to open Daniel’s text.

It’s stupid, he knows, to want to do this in private. Everyone knows he talks to Daniel still, probably no one would think it strange or pathetic for Max to be texting him now. Daniel had said—Max had known he wouldn’t be here, this weekend, or any weekend. Max understands, in his own way, despite how bereft he always feels, during.

But. It is a race day and Daniel is texting him. Daniel hasn’t texted on a race weekend since, well—since. He had facetimed the day after Brazil, relaxed and happy and congratulating Max from New York. They keep a running conversation during off weeks, Daniel sending picture after picture of himself with arms around his friends, some Max knows, some he doesn’t. Max saves the photos to a hidden folder on his phone, crops them all so it’s only Daniel. Sometimes it leaves him missing an arm, or two, but he can’t stand to see Daniel with all these people who aren’t Max. In turn, Max sends him videos of the cats, memes he hopes will make Daniel laugh, updates on the funny-looking bird that has been building a nest on Max’s balcony.

(That’s my—what’s the little animal friend that witches have—my familiar, Maximus! I sent him to watch over you, obviously. Be nice to him.) That message had gone into the secret folder, too.

Race weekends are radio silence. Max has come to terms with that, knows it isn’t personal, that it’s an open wound Daniel is nursing. So for Daniel to reach out, today of all days, Max can’t help the stab of yearning in his belly. It could be an important day, for Max, maybe Daniel decided—maybe he’s said he’s hopped a plane, he’s driving out from LA, he’ll be here before the chequered flag—

Max couldn’t bear it if anyone else were around, if that’s not what Daniel’s message says. Even alone, he feels like a hermit crab that’s outgrown its shell, hope leaving him soft-bellied and vulnerable.

He swipes open his and Daniel’s message chain.

Daniel’s not coming to Vegas. At least, that’s not what he’s texted.

The text is a picture. Max’s eyes are drawn immediately to Daniel, though he’s only in about one quarter of the frame. If he was trying to take a selfie, he did not do such a good job--it's mostly a shot of the dusty-red ground, Daniel's beautiful face peeking in from the top corner. He’s wearing his dirt biking clothes, sweat darkening the pits of his long sleeves where his arm is lifted to make a thumbs-up. His pinky still doesn't quite fold in next to the rest of his fingers. Max wants to kiss the careful bend of his knuckle.

It's a few long moments before Max even registers what's etched into the earth behind Daniel. It is very obvious, then, why Daniel is sending this now. There in the California dirt, Daniel has used a stick or maybe even one of his long, lovely fingers to write 3 + 1 = 4. A wobbly heart is drawn around the whole thing.

Max is infinitely grateful for the lack of prying eyes as he sinks slowly to the floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and cradles the phone in cupped hands, as if the message will be sucked back into the ether if he grips too tightly. He lightly taps to full-screen the image, zooms in on Daniel's face. The soft, almost awkward smile is the same one Max has only ever seen directed at him. He knows this, because he's spent years cataloguing Daniel's interactions with others, longing and longing. Daniel never makes that face at anyone else.

Max's phone buzzes as another text comes through. Daniel's hands reaching through the wire to squeeze Max's heart until it leaks out between his fingers.

Always cheering for you, Max. Give 'em hell for me.

[astonmartingf]

NOT MY FAULT ; FA14

dbf!fernando alonso x ex-red bull engineer! reader . . . if there are many fish in the ocean then fernando alonso is a catch, and it's not your fault if you fell for his hook, line, and sinker.

amgf a lot of appearances from other drivers, an actual plot! allusions to toxic work environment, red bull drama, the math is not mathing but okay. enjoy!!! thank you for still being here pwahaha it's been a while lbh but i hope you enjoy it like always!!!! wchagt update soon along with other wips <3

The only good thing that came out of your mother remarrying was the new found relationship you built with your step father, granted it took a while to get there- you first met him he was twice your age and dating your mother. Growing up you spent your formative years in the Red Bull garage answering math equations with Adrian Newey behind you, Sebastian Vettel laughing as Newey hands you a different worksheet after another.

It was an unusual dynamic, you mother 13 years older than your stepfather, being friends with your stepfather’s rival and teammate, it was unlike any other, but something you wouldn’t replace for the world. 

“Is it true you’re leaving Red Bull?” You were greeted with an over enthusiastic Oscar Piastri as you visited the McLaren motorhome using Mark’s pass. Your lip presses into a thin line, brows raised with a shrug from both shoulders leaving the younger groaning in frustration.

“I’m taking your silence as admission, also entering a McLaren motorhome on a race weekend? Seems like they finally fired you, it’s giving jobless.”

You roll your eyes, “This is a motorhome Osc, not your garage, I doubt they’d be hiding any of your data here, not like they’re secrets to me. Also they didn’t fire me, technically I was the one firing them since I will be leaving the team.”

“So you are leaving Red Bull.” Oscar deadpans, while you hiss as your tongue slipped faster than the thoughts in your head. You just promised yourself you won’t tell anything to anyone before you discussed it with your stepfather. 

Arms crossed to your chest, you face Oscar with the biggest smirk plastered on his face, proud for taunting you out on revealing your plans for the next seasons. “Well now that you know, I personally would like it if you kept your mouth shut. Mark doesn’t know yet and I plan to tell him before finalizing the contracts.”

Raising his hands with a small nod, Oscar moves leading the way to his quarters where you find your stepfather. “You’re free?” Mark looks up from the files in front of him glancing back and forth from you and Oscar. “Are you two in trouble?” 

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “No, why do you immediately think that? I for one am responsible, as for Oscar he can handle himself and no, we are not in trouble. I need your help.”

Just hearing the four words leaving from you, Mark closed the folders in front of him grabbing his keys, standing up. “Where do you want to go?”

It’s been known that the team principal has a preference for Daniel Ricciardo, the same can be said for Helmut with Yuki and Max, but for Newey it was you. Everyone in the team was well aware of your relationship, Newey taught you everything you knew about engineering and cars.

News of you leaving Red Bull wasn’t broadcasted on any social platform as you wanted to quit the team quietly, not bound to any long term contacts, yet within the team, your move was associated with Newey’s future whereabouts as whispers of him leaving Red Bull increased as the days went by. “You didn’t tell me you’re leaving Red Bull.” 

In front of you sat Newey, bringing forth a cup of coffee and the waffles you ordered prior. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving as well.” You scrunch your nose, whispering touché under your breath before taking a sip of coffee. 

“So, I’m assuming you told your father. Why did you leave?” You take a stab of the waffles, mulling over your conversation with Mark last week. “I told him what happened of course. You know why I left, it’s because of him. Well, partially. Everything was just slowly building up you know, they pushed me to the corner, I left. Simple as that. Mine’s boring, tell me yours. Why’d you leave?”

You felt Newey’s heavy stare into yours, “I heard what he told you, after that I left hoping to convince you to leave but you’ve surprised me once again.” Blinking, you put down the forkful of waffles in shock. Studying his demeanor, Newey continued taking bites of his club sandwich as if he didn’t drop the biggest revelation in front of you.

“You know you’re contractually not allowed to poach anyone right?” Newey rubs the crumbs off of his hands glancing at you with an incredulous look on his face. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, people always assumed I put Max in my clause. He’s a big guy who can handle himself, I put your name in. If I were to leave, I could take you from me. You know Horner said something along the lines of that when I ended my contract one year earlier. He asked about you- if you convinced me to leave. I told him you’re smarter than that, then I- are you crying?”

You raise your hand to your cheeks, wiping the tears you didn’t notice were falling off. “I just thought you’d stay there, and of course I would 100 percent support you wherever you went, I didn’t think you’d stick up for me when I left.” Now you were just full on bawling in front of him, early morning in a semi-busy cafe on a Friday morning. 

Newey laughs at you, throwing a napkin at your face. “I hope you’re ready to receive love calls for the next few days, we’ll be looking for some new prospects.”

You know time is of the essence, and when Newey advised you to keep an eye out for calls, you didn’t think they’d be calling you in the early mornings. Maybe it’s timezone differentiation but with the calls you’ve been getting for the last months have been more than alarming. A groan leaves your lips, before glancing over a familiar contact photo.

“Are you coming to China?” “It doesn’t seem like I have a choice now does it? Sounds like you want me to go now.” You hear movement from the other side of the line, “Yes, we’re stopping by to pick you up, get ready in 30 minutes.” “30 minutes? Am I not given time to prepare?” “Just bring yourself, if you’re worried you can use my money to buy whatever you need.” You scoff, jumping out of bed. “Just because I’m unemployed doesn’t mean I’m broke.” 

“Are you sure you want to pay?” 

“Hell no, I thought unemployment meant time for myself, didn’t think I would have to wake up at 4 AM catching flights to the Chinese Grand Prix.” You hear Mark’s laughter from the other side of the phone. “You better start getting ready, I’m on my way.”

“Never thought I’d see you sell me to another team. I thought I was sitting with you in the McLaren garage?” You explain to your stepfather as he walked with you to the Aston Martin garage.

Mark shook his head from your antics, “It’s a favor for a friend, you know to learn and see the company and team… it might make you enthusiastic to join.” You raise your brows listening to him sell the idea. “Are you not poaching me to join McLaren? Or are you worried about nepotism?”

Mark raised his hands to his face, panicking at the mention of nepotism right in front the Aston Martin garage, glancing around before shaking his head in disapproval while you’re giggling as he fusses over you. “I know you’re old enough to do this but please behave yourself, I just want you to see for yourself and not just because my friend asked for a favor, but I hope you enjoy yourself. I doubt McLaren is having any issues but if they wanted you, they would have to talk to you themselves instead of beating around the bush from me.”

You smile to yourself, “What about Aston Martin? What’s so different? And this favor from your friend, you must be really close with them, you’re offering my time so easily.”

“Fernando personally asked me to invite you.” You raise your brows glancing at the mechanic working on his car, “He couldn’t do it himself huh… Okay. I guess he had to go through such lengths seeing as he’s using you to invite me.” You take the ID Mark prepared for you, your name embossed with Fernando Alonso’s Guest below.

Your eyes wander around the green walls of their garage, you envision yourself in a dark green uniform, sitting on one of the pit lane garages looking over data. When Newey told you to prepare for new prospects you began looking around different teams, McLaren first and foremost due to Mark being involved, dabbling in offers from Mercedes and Williams, even from the junior Red Bull team which you immediately turned down, not wanting to be associated with the team any further. 

The news of Newey leaving hasn’t left the confines of Red Bull, despite Newey mentioning you as the reason he left, you don’t believe it’s the whole truth. You could be a partial reason, but there are many more underlying reasons behind his leave, especially to him who spent almost 20 years with the team, Newey leaving came as a shocker even to you, but what you’re waiting for is his future plans. 

You watch Mark slowly disappear from your sight, leaving you alone and for the first time in the 20 years of your life you felt exactly that. No one would have prepared you for what happened in the last two months of your life all leading to you leaving the first team you joined and spent your childhood in.

Sending a message to the only person you knew who spent his time in both Red Bull and Aston Martin garages, your phone rings as Sebastian calls you instead of answering your message. “Fernando invited you to the Aston Martin garage?” You stand from your seat to a quiet corner in the garage, away from the hustle and bustle, but more for your privacy. 

You rather no one listen to you talking about one of their drivers in his garage. “He asked Mark for a favor apparently, I was whisked away from my apartment to come here in China, now I’m in his garage, only for qualifying though so that’s that I guess.” The silence on the other side starts to make you question your own response.

“That's not the reaction I was hoping for. That’s that? That’s it? Where is the energy?” You roll your eyes at his implicating tone.

“It left the moment I got unemployed.” Sebastian laughs on the other side of the line, “Sounds like he’s trying to promote you as an elite employee.”

“Where the fuck are you learning these from? It’s so unlike you, has retirement made you younger?” You shout at your phone appalled by the words you never once thought would leave his mouth. “I kid, I kid. But you know what I think that message was?”

You sigh, trying to ignore the clammy feeling of your palms as you inch the phone higher to your ear, “I think that was a call for help. All those years of denial haven't changed? I’ll say this, green doesn’t look like a good color on you.”

“Fuck you Seb, calling you was a mistake.” Pressing the button furiously, you end the call. It’s funny how Sebastian always knows how to get on your nerves, maybe you were somewhat similar to your stepfather. That, or Sebastian is easily a mischievous prick who you’re unfortunately friends with and one of the only people who knew about your little something with a certain driver in the grid.

Your phone chimes, a reply from Seb, “I hope you get uncomfortable in his garage while you think back to your escapades in Barcelona, in the summer of 2019.”

It’s not your fault that of all the men available on the face of the earth, your eyes linger a little longer on Fernando Alonso, even if he is your step father’s friend he is hot, is he not?

[vanishingcherry]

NO REGRETS

authors note: this is for my darling @cs55version. i love you so much and your idea was just too tempting so i hope i did it justice! to everyone who sent in something for the 1k celly, thank you so much! i've started writing a few and i'm gonna try and get them out soon

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Max had arrived to the Silverstone paddock slightly earlier than the other drivers, the team wanting to talk to him in person before the rest of the reporters and fans get there.

He walked into the motorhome, heading to Christian's office where he furrowed his brows at the sight of around 5 people in the room, a lot less that what he had been expecting.

"Hey guys... where is everyone else? Am I too early?" he chuckled, taking a seat and looking up in confusion when nobody replied.

"Uh Max, you're right on time." Christian said, looking around the room and making eye contact with Helmut for a few seconds before continuing. "It's not a team meeting, per se. We just had a couple thoughts about your girlfriend."

Max's eyes lit up at the mention of his girlfriend, his previously suspicious expression discarded for one of pure joy. "She's great isn't she?! I love her," he exclaims as he thinks about the facetime he was on with you just an hour ago.

Although the media and fans only found out a few days ago, close friends and family had known about the relationship for a few months. There were also a couple people on the RedBull team who Max trusted enough to tell, and it seemed that all of them were currently in the room.

"Yeah about that," his PR manager says, "we aren't sure if she's the best in terms of publicity and the image we are going for."

"What?" said Max, looking around to see if they were joking, anger boiling when he realised they weren't. "And what 'image' are we doing for exactly?"

"Max," Christian sighs. "Look, I'm happy that you're happy with her, really. But, I mean, her style of dressing and her music, it's just not something we're comfortable with."

"So?" Max questioned, still adamantly defending you. "It's what she's comfortable with, I don't see why you have an opinion here."

"Max, no one likes her." Helmut piped up from behind the boy. "We've seen the tweets and discussions and data, the fans just don't like her. They don't like the way she dresses or her lyrics or anything. "

Max was getting aggravated, not understanding what everyone else's opinion had to do with his relationship.

"Look." said Max, "I don't care. I like it, and she likes it and thats all that matters. I don't care about what the fans think, and neither does she. She has fans for fucks sake, isn't that proof enough that people like her?"

"We're sorry Max, but she isn't feasible for the team. It's your choice, but everyone thinks you should break up. I understand if you don't, but in that case we are going to have to do some form of damage control." His PR manager looks sympathetic, but Max could care less in the moment.

"Exactly, it's my choice. I am done with this conversation okay? We are not breaking up. Do whatever the fuck you want, but do not talk to me about her." Max slams the door behind him, walking away as everyone in the rooms sighs almost simultaneously, knowing that the conversation had gone miraculously bad.

"Do what you have to," said Christian to the PR team, "don't bother Max for a while."

liked by schecoperez, redbull and 1,639,857 others

redbullracing lovely to have you @.kellypiquet! ...perhaps a new couple on the grid? 👀

view all 8,345 comments

f1fan WHAT? DID REDBULL JUST HARD LAUNCH MAX'S RELATIONSHIP?

↳ f1fan2 i am so confused bcs i remember him saying that his girlfriend was a singer in an interview

↳ maxfan1 oh yeah... forgot about that

↳ f1fan2 and as far as i know, kelly piquet isnt a singer

kellypiquet thanks for having me!

maxfan wait what happened to that other girl? were those actually just rumours then?

↳ maxfan3 probably 😭 people love making stuff up on twitter

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maxverstappen this is my girlfriend, the most spectacular person i am honoured to know. i love you, schatje.

we weren't planning to tell the world yet, but i was forced to because of some false information my team has implied. nonetheless, i am very happy to share with the world the person i love most.

i would appreciate it if all the fans treat her with the respect she deserves.

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yourusername no regrets

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[briancampbell0706]

Comprehensive vs. Third-Party Insurance: Which is Right for Your Campervan?

When it comes to insuring your camper van in the UK, one of the crucial decisions you need to make is choosing between comprehensive and third-party insurance. Each option has its benefits and considerations, and understanding the differences can help you determine which type of coverage aligns with your needs.

Comprehensive vs. Third-Party Insurance: A Guide for Camper van Owners

**1. Comprehensive Insurance:

Coverage Explanation: Comprehensive insurance provides a high level of coverage, encompassing damage to your camper van, third-party liability, and additional benefits like theft, fire, and vandalism protection.

Benefits:

Camper van Protection: Comprehensive insurance covers repairs or replacement costs for damages to your camper van resulting from accidents or unforeseen events.

Theft and Vandalism: This coverage extends to theft or vandalism incidents, offering financial protection for losses.

Peace of Mind: With comprehensive insurance, you have broader coverage, providing peace of mind during your travels.

**2. Third-Party Insurance:

Coverage Explanation: Third-party insurance covers damages and injury claims made by third parties involved in an accident with your campervan. It does not cover damage to your own vehicle.

Benefits:

Legal Requirements: Third-party insurance is often the minimum legal requirement for campervan owners in the UK, ensuring compliance with regulations.

Cost Savings: Third-party insurance typically comes with lower premiums compared to comprehensive coverage, making it a more budget-friendly option.

**3. Temporary Campervan Insurance:

Coverage Explanation: For campervan owners seeking temporary coverage, options like temporary campervan insurance provide flexibility for specific trips or seasonal use.

Benefits:

Customized Coverage: Temporary insurance allows you to tailor coverage based on your needs during specific periods.

Cost-Effective: If you use your campervan sporadically, temporary insurance can be a cost-effective solution.

Conclusion: Choosing between comprehensive and third-party insurance for your campervan involves weighing your priorities, budget, and the level of protection you desire. While comprehensive insurance offers extensive coverage, third-party insurance may suit those looking for a more budget-friendly option. Additionally, temporary campervan insurance provides flexibility for tailored coverage during specific periods of use. Ultimately, selecting the right insurance type ensures that your campervan adventures are not only enjoyable but also well-protected on the roads of the United Kingdom.

[oskea93]

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff. ✶ Chapter One ✶ ✶ Chapter Two ✶

■ A/N: You guys are amazing! I just want to say thank you so much for loving this story and following the tale of Riley and Tyler ❤️ ■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can't wait to hear from y'all

TL:  @ellesmythe @18lkpeters @hookslove1592, @djs8891, @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek @kmc1989 @lauraseresin

(12:59pm)

“Hey Lilly—” I jogged over to the Subaru as she quickly buckled into the driver’s seat, her movements quick and determined.

“You coming?” Her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and urgency, reflecting the thrill of the impending storm and the adventure it promised.

I let out a chuckle, shaking my head no. “Not in a million years.” I could see her smile falter, a flicker of disappointment washing over her face. “I was just seeing where Caroline was—thought maybe Tyler left her with you or Dani?”

As soon as the words left my lips, I watched as the blood literally drained from Lilly’s face. “He didn’t ask you?” Her voice trembled slightly, and my stomach sank.

My shoulders straightened in concern, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest. “Who—ask me what?” My heart began to beat erratically, the rhythmic thumping echoing my growing anxiety.

She stayed silent for a moment, her gaze dropping to the steering wheel as if she were afraid to say the words that might shatter the fragile calm. “Caroline’s riding with Boone and Tyler.”

Panic took over my emotions, a tidal wave crashing over me. “What!” My eyes darted to the open road, Tyler’s red truck becoming nonexistent in the distance. “No, he didn’t fucking ask me!”

“Oh shit,” Lilly whispered, her voice barely audible over the thrum of the Subaru’s engine. “Look, maybe he just forgot to mention it? You know how he gets when there’s a storm coming.”

“Forgot?” I spat, disbelief and hurt lacing my voice. “He knows how I feel about her going near those things! Especially after…” My voice trailed off, unable to articulate the memories that flashed through my mind. Images of that night rushed back—dark clouds, howling winds, the terror that wrapped around us like a vice grip, and the cuts that etched across her small face, a haunting reminder of the dangers we faced.

Lilly’s hand found mine, her touch a wave of calm against the storm raging inside me. “I know, I know. But freaking out won't help. Get in. We'll find them.” I nodded, my head still spinning, rage still coursing through my body like a live wire.

The thought of confronting Tyler, of seeing the smug look on his face, ignited the fire of my anger. But more than that, I was terrified for Caroline. I yanked open the passenger door and slammed it shut, the sound echoing the turmoil within me. "Let's go."

The Subaru roared to life as Lilly peeled out behind Dexter’s motorhome, the wheels kicking up gravel in our wake. I watched as the clouds grew darker, swirling ominously overhead—the very clouds that were no doubt hanging over Tyler’s truck. “We got formation forming just west of the interstate—about four miles away from you guys,” Dexter’s voice crackled through the radio, a beacon of urgency amidst the chaos.

“Roger that, Dexter!” Caroline’s sweet voice echoed back through the radio, causing my heart to beat harder, a mix of relief and dread flooding my senses. Hearing her voice brought a wave of warmth, but it was quickly overshadowed by the reality of the situation. I could imagine her, focused and brave, but I couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at my insides.

“Caroline!” I called out, my voice rising above the roar of the engine and the wind. “Are you okay?” I needed to hear her say she was safe, to know that she was out of harm's way. The radio crackled, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.

“You think her being with me would mean that she’s not okay?” Tyler’s voice echoed back, dripping with sarcasm. “You’re really making me feel like a real winner of a father today, Riles.”

The air in the car grew tense, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved issues. My grip on the dashboard tightened as I processed his response. Tyler’s defensiveness was palpable, and it ignited a flicker of anger deep within me. “This isn’t about you, Tyler. It’s about Caroline’s safety,” I shot back, my voice steady but firm, trying to keep the storm of emotions in check.

“Oh, right. Because you’ve been the perfect mother, haven’t you?” he retorted, his tone sharp, like a blade slicing through the tension. “Last I checked, you were the one who moved hundreds of miles away and took Caroline away from me.”

His words hit hard, and I felt a rush of heat wash over me. I could hear the accusation lingering in his voice, and it stung. Moving and taking Caroline away from Tyler was one of the hardest things I’ve done at that time. I couldn’t stay in Arkansas any longer – there were no job opportunities for me out here. I couldn’t depend on Tyler any longer – fearing that any moment I would get the call that he was killed. I wasn’t gonna put my daughter through that.

“I did what was best for our daughter, Tyler.” My voice was tight, trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “You fucking know how I feel about storm chasing, and you go behind my back and take her with you without even tell—”

“Telling you!” His voice rose, echoing off the walls like thunder. “Goddammit, Riley, she’s my daughter! If I want to bring her along and let her see what Mother Nature is granting us the pleasure of witnessing today, then by fucking God, I’m gonna do it.”

The line went dead, the crackle of static abruptly replaced by an unsettling silence.

“Tyler—” I called out, my voice rising in urgency. “Tyler!”

The two-way radio bounced sharply against the dashboard before it clattered to the floor with a dull thud. Frustration coursed through me as I stared at the lifeless device, its silence echoing the dread swelling in my chest.

“I know you don’t want to hear this—” Lilly began, her gaze unwavering on the twisting road ahead, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. “But we both know that even though Caroline is in that truck with Tyler and Boone, she’s in the safest hands at this moment.”

I raked my fingers hastily through my hair, a futile attempt to dissipate the mounting anxiety. The landscape blurred past as I focused on the horizon, where dark clouds roiled ominously. In the distance, I caught sight of Dexter’s caravan veering off to the side of the road, him and Danny jumping out, urgency propelling their movements. My heart raced; it meant Tyler and Boone were gaining on the twister.

“He knows how I feel about her getting that close,” I snapped, my voice thick with emotion. “He knows what she and I went through that night.” The memories came rushing back flooded with chaos, fear, and the haunting realization of how quickly everything could spiral out of control.

Lilly glanced at me, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “We can’t change what’s happening right now. We have to trust them. Tyler wouldn’t put her in danger.”

“Trust,” I muttered bitterly, staring out at the darkening sky. “Trust means nothing when you’re staring down a storm.”

Just then, a low rumble echoed in the distance, a warning growl from the sky. It sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me that time was slipping away. I could almost feel the pulse of the storm, the chaotic energy that promised destruction.

Lilly’s Subaru kicked up the Kansas dirt as she pulled up beside Dexter and Danny. I watched as she quickly got out of the car, her computer in hand as she rushed towards the duo.

As I stepped out of the car, the dry Kansas air enveloped me, carrying with it the scent of dirt and ozone. My attention was hijacked by Tyler's booming voice, his words spilling from Dexter's speaker like a sudden burst of energy. I felt a pang of unease as I caught sight of Caroline's bright smile on the screen, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, we have a special guest with us here on the storm chaser channel," Tyler announced, his tone a perfect blend of showmanship and daredevil charm. "Why don't you say hi to everyone, sugar pie."

Boone's camera whirled around, capturing Caroline's beaming smile as she waved at the camera. My heart skipped a beat as I watched, a mix of emotions swirling inside me.

"Tell 'em who you are, tater," Boone egged her on, his voice filled with a playful enthusiasm that grated on my nerves.

Caroline's gaze flickered towards Boone before she turned back to the camera, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression. "My name is Caroline Sarah Owens," she said, her voice clear and confident.

“Owens –“Boone playfully questioned. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Tyler Owens the tornado wrangler, would you?”

Caroline gleefully nodded her head, “He’s my daddy!”

"Whoa, small world!" Boone exclaimed; his enthusiasm infectious. "The tornado wrangler's daughter, riding shotgun with us today! Folks, we've got a real treat for you!"

Tyler's voice chimed in, his tone laced with a mix of pride and amusement. "That's right, folks! My little girl's got storm chasing in her blood. And she's not afraid to get up close and personal with the big ones!"

I watched, my anxiety spiking, as Caroline's smile grew even wider, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She was eating up the attention, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. This was all too much, too fast. She was just a kid, and she didn't understand the risks, the dangers that came with storm chasing.

The team glanced over at me, gaging my reaction as the camera moved away from Caroline and back onto Tyler as he explained the mission for today. The models were showing a strong storm with a lot of updrafts – big and foreign words for someone in the fashion industry. I’ve heard Tyler and the team mention them all the time, but never been inclined to learn the true meanings.

“As always—” Tyler grinned into the camera, his excitement infectious. “We have the crew out in the field—Dexter, Dani, and the fabulous Lilly!” A split screen popped up, revealing their faces, each one brimming with enthusiasm. My presence was also caught on camera, a new face among the familiar crew, and it didn’t take long for viewers to take notice.

It took only a moment for someone in the comment section to spot my unfamiliar face, and soon questions flooded the screen. Who was I? Was I a new member of the Tornado Wranglers? Meanwhile, Tyler and Boone kept their focus on the incoming storm, casually brushing aside the burning questions that swirled around like the storm clouds above.

“There’s that beautiful girl!” Tyler exclaimed, his gaze shifting to the passenger side window. “Carolina, honey, check that out!” His finger pointed excitedly in the direction of the swirling twister, and I turned just in time to see our daughter’s head bobbing up, her bright eyes wide with wonder.

“Don’t you think we’re getting a bit close?” Ben interjected, glancing nervously between Caroline and Tyler. “Precious cargo and all?” His concern was palpable, but Tyler merely chuckled.

“Good ol’ Ben,” he smiled into the rearview mirror, his confidence unwavering. “This is the safest truck you’ll ever ride in. You need a good reliable vehicle when you’re riding into the twister, baby.” With that, his foot slammed down hard on the accelerator, and the truck surged forward, causing Ben to lurch back in his seat. Caroline's delighted giggles rang out in the background.

“So for today’s lesson, ladies, gentlemen, and kiddies,” Tyler continued, his voice booming with enthusiasm, “we are gonna see if you can, in fact, set off fireworks into the center of a twister. Got those canisters ready, Boone?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

The camera switched back to Boone, who was grinning ear to ear, giving the lens a thumbs up. “Ready to rock and roll, Wranglers!” His excitement was contagious, and I felt my own heart race in anticipation.

As Tyler pressed down on the accelerator, the sound of the engine roared, drowning out everything else. Boone let out a whoop of exhilaration, and Caroline's laughter filled the air like music. However, a wave of nausea suddenly hit me, a gut-wrenching sensation that felt like crashing against a brick wall, as the red truck barreled right into the swirling center of the funnel.

“He’s got her, Riley,” Dexter tried to reassure me, but his words felt empty against the mounting chaos outside.

The signal began to glitch as the twister rolled ominously over the truck, the screen flickering as if the storm itself was trying to disrupt our broadcast. The sudden noise of an explosion erupted, followed by a dazzling display of red and blue sparks bursting through the sickeningly dark skies. It was a breathtaking sight, both beautiful and terrifying, a vivid reminder of nature’s unpredictable power.

“Hell yeah—” Dani yelled, her voice ringing out with pure jubilation. “They fucking did it!” Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling clenching in my stomach.

Seconds later, the signal stabilized, and the faces inside the truck beamed with excitement, their adrenaline still coursing through them. The storm that had moments ago loomed ominously above us had practically dissipated, leaving behind a clear blue sky punctuated only by the remnants of swirling clouds. Tyler’s truck rolled back onto the gravel road, dust swirling in our wake.

“You’ve seen it here first, Wranglers—” Tyler declared, his smile wide and infectious. “You can shoot off fireworks in the middle of a raging twister!” His voice was filled with pride, a testament to the crew’s daring spirit and their unwavering pursuit of adventure. He turned to the camera, gesturing animatedly as he went on to thank the crew, his excitement palpable.

Pulling Caroline into the front seat with him, he wrapped his arms around her small frame, an image of fatherly affection. “And thanks to my little backseat co-pilot for joining me today.” His eyes sparkled with joy as he looked down at her. “How’d you like it, sugar pie?”

Caroline smiled brightly, leaning her head against Tyler’s flannel shirt, her small voice ringing out sweetly, “Love it.” That same smile, one that mirrored her father’s—bright and full of life—shone into the camera, capturing the hearts of viewers everywhere.

Tyler turned to the camera again, his tone playful. “You wanna do it again sometime?” Without hesitation, Caroline nodded her head vigorously, her enthusiasm infectious, prompting Boone and Tyler to erupt into laughter. “Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen! Be on the lookout for the newest and youngest wrangler coming to screens near you soon.”

But as I watched this heartwarming exchange, a wave of unease washed over me. “Over my dead body,” I muttered under my breath, the words laced with a mix of protectiveness and apprehension. The thought of Caroline—my little girl—getting swept up in this chaotic whirlwind of storm chasing sent a shiver down my spine.

The crew might have been reveling in the thrill of their antics, but I couldn’t shake the nagging worry that accompanied such reckless adventures. Tyler thrived on the adrenaline, and Caroline, with her sparkling eyes and adventurous spirit, seemed ready to follow in his footsteps…

I was immediately on my feet once I caught a glimpse of the truck pulling into the parking lot. My heart raced as I stepped up to the backdoor, not even bothering to wait until he had placed it into park. The anger bubbled inside me, a boiling point I could no longer contain.

“Now wait a minute, Riley,” Tyler edged, quickly hopping out of the driver’s side, his face a mix of concern and confusion.

“Don’t you dare say a single word to me right now, Tyler Owens. Don’t you fucking dare.” My voice was sharp, laced with the fury that had been building since the moment I saw the storm on the horizon. I knew it was wrong for Caroline to see me acting this way towards her father, but the thought of him taking her without asking me—after I specifically told him no—set me ablaze. He had put her in the path of a fucking F2 tornado!

“Mommy, did you see what Daddy did?” Caroline’s voice broke through, innocent and filled with excitement, but it only fueled my anger further. I practically threw her harness straps off her little body, pulling her into mine as my arms wrapped protectively around her.

“She had fun, Riley,” Tyler said, his tone deeper, almost defensive. “It’s in her blood—”

“No, Tyler!” My voice cracked, laced with a mix of fury and desperation. “It’s in your blood—” My finger jabbed into his hard chest; each word punctuated with emotion. “She has no place out in this world—”

Before I could finish, Lilly and Boone swiftly approached, their expressions turning serious as they saw the tension escalating. They reached for Caroline, gently pulling her out of my arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks, caught in the crossfire of Tyler and my argument. The sight of her distress twisted my heart, but I couldn’t back down; I had to make him understand.

“Make you feel good to see her cry?” Tyler shot back, his voice low and fierce.

My jaw slacked, disbelief washing over me. “Excuse me?” I could hardly process his accusation. “This isn’t about me feeling good, Tyler! It’s about her safety!”

“Then why are you yelling at me?” He gestured towards Caroline, who was now in Lilly’s arms, her small body trembling. “She’s scared because you’re acting like a lunatic!”

“Because you’re being reckless!” I shot back, my hands trembling as I ran them through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “You think this is some kind of game? You took her into a storm, Tyler! A storm! What if something went wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong!” He argued, his voice rising, echoing in the parking lot. “She had the time of her life! You should’ve seen her face when the fireworks went off—”

“And what about the next time?” I interrupted, my emotions spilling over. “What if next time there’s no one to pull her out of danger? What if you can’t protect her?”

The tension thickened in the air, and I could see the frustration in Tyler’s eyes morph into something more vulnerable. It was a fleeting moment, but for a second, I saw the doubt in him—the realization that maybe I was right, that there were risks we could never ignore.

“Riley,” he said, his tone softening as he took a step closer, trying to bridge the divide between us. “You know I’d never put her in harm’s way on purpose. I love her, and I love you. I thought we were in this together—”

“Together?” I scoffed, the bitterness creeping into my voice. “We are not together! You don’t get to make unilateral decisions that put her at risk! This isn’t just about you and your thrill-seeking! She’s a child, not a prop in your adventures!” Each word felt like a dagger, aimed directly at Tyler’s heart, and I could see the hurt flash across his face.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on us, the tension crackling like static electricity in the air. Behind us, the parking lot buzzed with life, but in our little bubble, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us—two parents at an impasse, fighting over the well-being of our daughter.

“You think I don’t care about her?” he finally shot back, his voice rising in frustration. “I love her! I thought I was giving her a taste of adventure, something exciting to remember! Isn’t that what we want for her? To live life fully?”

“Not like this!” I pressed, my hands shaking as I struggled to keep my composure. “Adventure doesn’t have to come at the cost of her safety! You think it’s fun to chase storms and set off fireworks, but you’re not seeing the bigger picture. What if something had gone wrong? What if she had gotten hurt?”

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Nothing did go wrong! She was safe, and she loved every second of it! You’re overreacting, Riley. You always do this—”

“Overreacting?” I echoed incredulously, my voice rising. “I’m not overreacting! I’m being a mother! You may see this as just another day in your thrill-seeking life, but I see the risks! I see the potential for disaster!”

Lilly stood to the side, trying to soothe Caroline, whose eyes were wide with confusion and fear. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she murmured softly, wiping away the tears that had streamed down Caroline’s cheeks. “Mommy and Daddy are just having a grown-up conversation.”

I felt my heart break as I watched my little girl caught in the middle of our storm. “I don’t want her to see us like this,” I said, my voice softening for a moment, but the anger quickly surged back. “But how can I stay calm when you’re putting her in danger?”

“Danger?” Tyler scoffed, his expression hardening again. “You call it danger; I call it living. She’s going to grow up thinking the world is a scary place if you keep her wrapped in bubble wrap!”

“Bubble wrap?” I laughed bitterly, my chest tightening. “Protecting her isn’t bubble wrap, Tyler! It’s being a responsible parent! You can’t just throw her into the eye of the storm and call it an adventure!”

“Maybe you need to let go a little!” he shot back, frustration boiling over. “Maybe you need to trust me! I know what I’m doing!”

“Trust you?” I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. “You think this is about trust? This is about being sensible! About understanding boundaries! You need to realize that you’re not just making decisions for yourself anymore!”

“Then what do you suggest? We just sit at home, watching the world go by while she dreams of the adventures we could be having?” Tyler’s voice was rising, and I could see the veins in his neck pulsing with tension.

“No!” I replied, my voice pleading. “But there’s a balance! There are ways to introduce her to adventure without throwing caution to the wind! You need to stop thinking of her as your sidekick in a dangerous game and start seeing her as our daughter!”

“Are you really insinuating that I think of Caroline as my fucking sidekick?” His eyes darkened with rage. “That little girl is all I fucking have in life, Riley. How would you feel if someone took away your life and moved them hundreds of miles away?”

“I did what was best for her, Tyler.” I was exhausted with having this argument. “There was no opportunities for me in Arkansas – no opportunities for her. I’m not gonna be the happy little housewife that waits patiently by the front door, hoping that you come back in one piece. It was draining being married to the Tornado Wrangler.”

“Was it draining to be married to the Tornado Wrangler when you were spending the money that was coming in?” Tyler's words left his mouth before he had time to think, each syllable laced with a bitterness that echoed the anger boiling beneath the surface.

“Wow—” I gasped, tears welling in my eyes as his question felt like a gut punch. The accusation hung in the air between us, sharp and unforgiving. In that moment, I felt a rush of emotions—hurt, anger, and disbelief all crashing over me like a wave. How could he twist my concerns into something so selfish?

“Is that really how you see it?” I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with the weight of his words. “You think I was just some gold digger, living off your success while I played house?”

“It's not like you ever complained when the checks came rolling in,” he shot back, his frustration bubbling over. “You loved the lifestyle—the trips, the nice things, the freedom. But now that it’s all gone, you want to act like it was so tough!”

I felt the heat of anger rise within me, mixing with the tears that threatened to spill over. “You’re missing the point, Tyler! It wasn’t about the money! It was about the instability, the fear of you chasing storms without thinking about the family you were leaving behind. I was drowning in uncertainty while you were out there chasing your dreams!”

His expression hardened as he crossed his arms, the tension in his body palpable. “So what, I’m supposed to just give it all up? Stop being who I am because it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No!” I exclaimed, my voice rising. “But you need to find a balance! I wanted to support you, to be there for you, but I couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay when it felt like our lives were hanging by a thread. I was terrified of losing you to the very thing that you loved!”

“Terrified or just selfish?” he countered, the bitterness in his tone cutting deep. “Because it sounds like you’re just mad that I didn’t fit into your picture-perfect life.”

“Picture-perfect?” I echoed, incredulous. “You think I wanted a perfect life? I wanted a partner, someone I could count on. But instead, I was left waiting by the door, wondering if you’d come back in one piece or if the next storm would take you away from us forever.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

[formulapookie]

Under the stars

rosquez

they aren't good, not even on speaking terms as of now, not been on fucking terms for a while, but the lingering presence of vale is something heavy to Marc right now.

Of all people it was his side of the garage the one glued to that neon yellow monstrosity of Bezzecchi's garage.

And Vale wasn't fucking shutting up, constantly talking to his rider and telling him how to correct or change a certain something in a certain corner.

He was sick of it, hearing that pointy voice on the other side of the thin wall and not being able to see him.

For how much of a shield or shell he ould build there would have always been a little crack that let Vale through his armour into his chest.

Nestled there like a virus, ready to attack.

He gets up and exits the garage, he needs space, air, quiet.

There's a place where he could go, and even if it is, was, their place it's not like Vale is going to go there.

They didn't even look at eachother earlier in the morning at breakfast.

Or well, Vale didn't look at him, Marc's eyes glued themselves to his curls more than once, always looking away before being spotted.

He breaths in the humid air of the ring, the smell of fuel and the sound of engines managing to calm his mind, untaunted by Vale's voice.

"Where you listening to my tips as well? Could benefit you after the stupid mistake you pulled yesterday in the sprint"

Oh fucking hell. Can't he just have ten minutes to himself?

"I think I manage well for myself Vale, I remind you I have eight Championships, how many does your kid have?"

"No need to insult my rider thank you"

Marc doesn't answer, he doesn't want to, they shouldn't even be talking, let alone discuss.

"You don't talk to me for two years and the first thing you tell me after all this time is an insult, what a way to do things Vale"

"More of a provocation than an insult"

"Oh fuck off Vale what do you want? Me not to fight your precious champion too much next year? To let him win if he wants? To gift him the championship like you think I did with Lorenzo?"

He shouldn't be like this on front of Vale, it's too much skin exposed, too many thoughts said.

He knows Vale compared him to a shark that bites harder if he smells blood, but right now Vale would be much more adequate to the metaphor than him.

"As I already said Pecco doesn't need you in the garage to show he's a Champion, so no, didn't come here to talk to you about him" "Then what do you want? I came here to not hear you talking and you managed to disturb me anyway" "You came here and didn't think that maybe I could come here too?"

Marc's heart skips a beat, a breath gets caught in his throat. Why does it have to happen to him? Why does Vale manage to always sting him when he's not prepared?

"I don't see why you would" "Don't act like an idiot Marc, you know why"

No he fucking doesn't, because Vale has not uttered a word to him for two whole years, they haven't woken up in a random motel together in a year and a half, so he doesn't fucking know why he would.

"No"

Vale scoffs, walking closer to him, now there's roughly a meter between them.

"It's our place no? You called it like this after the first time we came here, you told me we should've had an 'our place' in every track"

Marc didn't think he remembered, words spoken by a lovestruck kid between the sheets of Vale's motorhome, words that still cut too deep even now.

"I agreed that we should've because we couldn't spend too much time in my motorhome and not raise suspicions. And then we went there again for the whole weekend, you sat on that edge and told me you wanted to see the stars, so I shut off the lights on the building and you watched them"

Why is Vale doing this? Why is he talking about that night with that fondness in his voice? Marc doesn't like this, he hates it he - he can't hate it.

He's caught in a trap of lasers and blades and he doesn't know how to get out from the maze that is Valentino's speech.

"I still don't understand why you would come here"

Somehow Marc manages to keep a steady and neutral voice, despite his will is to cry at the memory Vale just revived.

"Because I knew you'd be here" it's the first time tonight, this year actually, that they make proper eye contact, staring into each other's souls for a seconds which seems and eternity.

Marc feels like drowning in the ocean Vale's eyes are, Vale feels like he's wondering in an ancient forest if he looks long enough.

"And I feel like I owe you an apology. Fuck ok more than just an apology, I owe you so much more"

After years. Years. He spent wondering if he would ever hear these words they're finally here.

"I was wrong. About a lot of things, especially those regurding you and your - you saying you were a fan of mine, that I was skeptical whether or not you had posters of me at your house, despite I went there and saw them. I was an asshole. I wanted to hurt you as much as I could and I said the most stupid and hurtful thing I could think of, I knew that if I publicly doubted of you then you would’ve let go”

“You’re apologising?”

Marc doesn’t believe it, can’t believe Vale is actually saying these words to him, in reality, right here right now.

“Yes. And don’t get me wrong, I’m still angry about the 10th, but I was a dickhead about it and a whole other bunch of things”

There’s a tension in the air, uneasiness between them.

It’s not normal to be in this situation, both vulnerable and bare in front of the other.

It’s like they’re saying “my heart is here, if you want to stab it do it now, i’m defenceless”

“Marc I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just needed to say I’m sorry because I’ve been sorry for a long time but I didn’t want to tell you. I was scared to look stupid or weak. I don’t care now, I just had to make sure next year there’s no resentment in the garage”

Marc has tears in his eyes.

He wants to let them all out, wants to curl up in a ball and let himself be consumed by years of torment and suffering.

“I was a kid Vale. I - fucking he’ll I was Celestino’s age. What would you do to someone if they did what you did to me to Celestino?”

“Probably I’d punch them. Probably I’d keep them as far as possible from him and tell him to never interact with them again. I am not an idiot Marc I know I have no right to expect you to forgive me. But I just ask for no resentment”

“I forgave you already. I forgave you the week after you said those things about me. A week after you called me a liar I had already forgiven you. I just wanted to hear these words back then”

Vale is honestly dumbfounded. Because yeah he knew Marc didn’t hold the type of grudge he held for him but.

Forgiving him after a week? That was just insane.

“You have really zero self preservation sense eh? That’s why you race like that still”

“I forgave you because I was in love with you Vale. I hoped that if I just loved you enough, that’d be good for the two of us, I thought I could love enough for both. Thought I could get over you going me those nasty looks and just calling me when you wanted to fuck. Because I had enough love for two”

And Vale didn’t think he could feel more shitty than he did when he had that mental trip months ago when he realised how actually cruel he had been, and how he had to apologise.

He hadn’t told Uccio, obviously.

Or Pecco. Or Luca. Or any of the people he knew.

“I thought you felt - ok not the same as me but I thought you hated me at least a little bit. I am sorry. Really. I know I should’ve apologised long ago, that this I’m doing now it’s basically useless but you had to hear it from me”

And now tears just can’t be held by Marc anymore.

He’s not crying desperately but tears stream down his face, quietly, like a mountain river.

“I know I should tell you to fuck off and go back to you garage and tell you I don’t give a fuck about your apologies”

Now Marc is breathing normally again, eyes locked with Vale’s, there’s not a layer of lies in it.

“But I just can’t. I want to be honest with you, I was - still am - hurt by what you said. But I am so fucking stupid and still love you so much and I forgive you”

Vale wants to cry too now, Marc hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still that lovestruck kid he fell in love with ten years ago. And it sickens him, because he can see who he hurt.

“Can” Marc’s voice gets interrupted by a sob, light now completely down at the track, just the moon making its appearance.

“Can we watch the stars Vale? I miss them”

“Si. Ill go turn the lights off, you stay here and we watch the stars ok?”

Marc nods, he’s scared, of course he’s scared.

He’s scared Vale will run away again, that he would leave him alone up there, that he will make fun of his helpless reaction with his friends.

But Vale takes 5 seconds to shut off the buildings lights, leaving just the many stars to light up in Marc’s eyes.

“Im sorry. I will go away if you want. When you want”

“No Vale no please. Please don’t go. Not again I don’t want you to go away again. Watch the stars with me”

And Vale does just that, sat beside Marc, heads touching, thousands of words still to say, millions of apologies still to be done.

But now, in this fragment, it’s just them.

Them and the stars.

[spidersophie]

COWORKERS IN LOVE

lando norris blurb

lando norris x mclaren racing engineer!reader

writing & social media extras

a/n: english is not my first language, i wrote it in a rush of inspiration, so there might be some mistakes — if so, don’t be scared to correct me in the comments!

update: thanks @ryntro for giving this fic a proper title<3

"well done, lando, what a brilliant weekend for you and mclaren. another podium of the season, and the first ever win in your career. how are you feeling right now?" will buxton asked in his post-race interview, pointing a microphone towards the british driver.

"oh my god, mate, i don’t even know what i should say" lando exclaimed, grinning like a little child that just got a new toy. "i’m quite overwhelmed by the crowd and all the emotions, so i don’t think i’m able to say anything more than i’m so happy to be in this place, and to score my first ever f1 win in silverstone, alongside the people i love and an amazing team."

"sounds like you were really enjoying today’s racing. in the commentator’s booth everyone was pointing out the brilliant communication between you and your racing engineer. was that one of the keys of today’s result?"

"yeah, definitely," lando smiled even wider as will mentioned y/n, "even though she’s new into this role, i can already tell she was born for this. she’s doing such a great job, working with her is a pleasure, i hope for more podiums and wins with her by my side, i love her- i mean i love working with her" lando corrected himself quickly, but not quickly enough for will not to hear his whole rambling and not quietly enough for the camera man not to record his whole speech, including the l bomb.

"shit, i wasn’t suppose to say that, was i?" he asked partially to himself, partially to charlotte who was standing behind him with a panic rising in her eyes. "i guess that’s all for today" he added, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, meaning that yes, indeed he should end that interview.

"do you hate me?" that was first question lando asked y/n as he walked into the mclaren’s motorhome. "fuck, i can’t believe i actually said that. you’re definitely mad at me. i won’t be surprised if you quit your job by the next race weekend, cause it’s kinda awkward, considering we’re meant to stay on professional terms."

"lando norris, can you just stopped walking circles around and try to calm down?" y/n grabbed brit’s wrist, forcing him to look at her. "i’m not mad, more like surprised, cause we haven’t really decided what we’re gonna do with everything that’s started happening between us. and you know, i didn’t really expect hearing i love you in the middle of an interview, but i guess i’ll live with that." she lifted lando’s hand and placed a quick kiss to it. "we’ll figure it out, okay?"

"okay," lando stepped towards y/n and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her closer towards his chest,"so that means you’re not going to resign?"

"as long as zak doesn’t mind," y/n said, inhaling the familiar scent of lando’s hoodie. "but no more l-bombs from you in the middle of interviews. let’s give poor charlotte a rest."

[giuseppe-yuki]

I feel like Kimi's gf's job in the shapeshifter au is just to sleep and his job is to facilitate that

Esteban's flying squirrel gf has to talk him out of buying her tiny superhero themed clothes

Logan and Alex's gfs love to get their feathers everywhere and perch together to watch their boys race

Lance's gf sometimes goes out in her fox form alone at night and gives him a heart attack

George and Kimi both struggle to explain how they got legal permission to bring a tiger and a deer around with them

the term cat naps was made for kimi's gf. she'll find any excuse in order to stretch out on the deck of the merc hospitality or in the middle of the walkway to kimi's driver's room. you should see kimi snapping at his poor engineers to lower down their talking levels so his gf can take her like 12th nap of the day.

more underneath the cut :))

haha, esteban's gf probably saw max's gf dressed in the sanrio clothes and zhou's gf in the cowboy outfit and was like NOPE, i'm not doing that. she might do wonder woman (aka just a tiara, miniskirt, and lasso) if esteban asks really really nicely, but she draws the line at the deadpool body suit that esteban might or might not be looking at on his phone.

yessss bird shapeshifter!gfs unite :) from an outsider's perspective, it might seem alarming to see alex's gf, a small cockatiel, perched next to logan's gf, a mighty hawk, but the boys always reassures them that 'it's alright, there will be no birds dying in the williams motorhome today.' as for the feathers, they first do it accidentally, but then realize how funny it is when james vowles slips on a stray feather on the ground, flies across the room, and almost impales himself one of the tyre wheel guns. (alex and logan swear they didn't burst out laughing after witnessing the scene- promise 🤞)

fennec foxes are naturally nocturnal animals, so it only makes sense that some of those characteristics transfer into lance's fennec fox shapeshifter!gf. when she can't sleep at night, she likes to lightly slip herself out of lance's warm embrace and let herself out. it only takes an hour and a half of padding outside in the darkness around lance's sprawling estate before she finally gets tired and comes back inside. however, sometimes lance wakes up while she's running around outside. in his groggy state, his mind automatically assumes the worst, like she's been kidnapped, and almost passes away with fear, but he always realizes quickly that she's doing her late night zoomies. he can't really sleep without her there, so he goes to stand at the backyard door like🧍until she comes back in.

definitely! the question always pops up with new merc employees. the more uptight ones usually say something like, 'this cannot be legal!' and goes to toto's office to tattle, but are pretty much silenced after the merc team principal opens the door with a bored 'yes, how may i help you,' while his wolf!shapeshifter gf blinks at them from behind his legs. (the experienced employees cannot interfere- it is a canon event) meanwhile, the more curious new employees usually go up to kimi and george themselves to ask. kimi will answer with a shrug while george, flustered from being put on the spot, ends up stuttering a bullshit answer (guide deer (?) on loan from the zoo (?)) and running away. but, once the employees have enough experience with the team and the drivers trust them enough, they are allowed to know the secret.

[scuderiasundays]

time after time

summary: years of yearning ending in a fiery release 🧨 written with lennon stella's cover of "time after time" (one of my all-time favorites) on repeat!

words: 1315

a/n: those b/w milan photos gave me the final push i needed to get this out into the world! the first time i've written anything this long so i would appreciate any and all feedback 🫶🏼

September 2012

"I bet you could convince my mom to let me go." It was a picturesque night in Madrid as the words slipped out of his mouth. Gathered around a table adorned with colorful tapas, Carlos and his friends celebrated his and Y/N’s birthdays over Gambas al Ajillo and pints of Estrella Galicia. Sat across from Carlos was Y/N, his best friend who he had grown up alongside. The aspiring Formula 1 driver had been away for months, leaving behind his beloved hometown. Tonight, their tight-knit group had unanimously agreed to refrain from discussing anything related to motorsport, but Carlos couldn't help but come up with hypothetical situations that ended in successfully persuading his mother to allow him to race in Macau, a city an astonishing 10,497 kilometers away.

Would Y/N ever gather the strength to say no to those velvety brown eyes? The evening had quickly gone by, and Carlos and Y/N bid farewell to their friends, commencing their walk back to the Sainz residence. “Mama, look who I’ve brought home.” Reyes’ face lit up upon Y/N’s arrival at the front door. If ever a motherly instinct surged within Reyes, it was when she witnessed the two little ones growing up, sensing deep down they were destined to end up together. Reyes had been like a second mother to Y/N and had always gotten her a birthday gift of her choosing. “So, what shall it be this year?” Reyes beamed. “I want to use this year’s wish for Carlos, if that’s alright. He’s worked tirelessly this season and it would kill me if he didn’t get to race in Macau.”

“Carlitos put you up to this, no?” Reyes chuckled. Drawing Y/N into a warm embrace, she assured Y/N that Carlos could race at the Macau Grand Prix, so long as he stopped pressuring his best friend to speak on his behalf. To make up for her son’s foolishness, Reyes allowed Y/N to blow out the candles on the birthday cake she’d made for Carlos since she had virtually used up her birthday wish on him. Y/N closed her eyes, silently praying that this would be the year Carlos would come to his senses and realize she’s been madly in love with him this whole time.

July 2020

"You're not coming to Mallorca this summer?" Y/N could sense Carlos’ frustration seeping through the phone. It wasn't that she didn't want to go, of course she did. Summers in Mallorca were pure bliss. The refreshing gazpacho Reyes prepared, the laughter-filled board game sessions with Carlos' grandfather, and the exhilarating late-night padel matches with Carlos, Ana, and Blanca. There was cause for additional celebration this summer as Carlos had made it through the treacherous F1 silly season unscathed, securing a seat at McLaren. However, a mixture of the demands of residency and an unspoken truth kept Y/N from wanting to spend even a single moment with the man she had termed “Summer Carlos.”

Summer Carlos was carefree, bronzed, and exuded warmth. Summer Carlos was the Carlos who had drunkenly kissed her three summers ago, leaving her heartbroken when he acted as though nothing had happened the following day. The memory still stung, and Y/N wasn't sure if she was ready to face those emotions once again.

July 2022

Caco, Carlos' older cousin, had graciously invited Y/N to join them at the Silverstone Grand Prix. After managing to secure a weekend off from work, Y/N was euphoric escaping the sterile confines of the hospital. As she walked into the motorhome, a mix of emotions swirled within her. It had been months since she had last seen her best friend. Her job kept her tethered to the emergency room, while Formula 1 had taken Carlos across the globe.

The initial words that escaped Carlos' lips were, "You look pale, like you could use some Mallorcan sun." Y/N couldn't decipher whether he genuinely wanted her there or not. The uncertainty lingered, leaving her unsure of where they stood after all this time apart.

Eager to avoid being in anyone's way, especially Carlos', Y/N decided to take a stroll around the paddock. Lost in her thoughts, she ran into Lando, Carlos' former teammate, who recognized her immediately and approached with a friendly smile. "How've you been, Y/N? We miss you over at McLaren.” Y/N had tended to Lando after his Eau Rouge crash during qualifying in 2021, forging a close bond between them.

A faint smile appeared on Y/N's face as she replied, "Maybe I'll seek refuge at McLaren's hospitality this weekend since it seems like Carlos doesn't want me here." Lando chuckled in his characteristic way, the sound putting Y/N at ease. "You and I both know the man is terrible at expressing his feelings. He's probably just yearning for you because you've been too busy saving lives. Trust me," Lando reassured her. "I'm running late for a meeting, but I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

Y/N's mind was filled with curiosity, trying to make sense of Lando's words. Carlos pining for her? It seemed impossible, given their history and the distance that had grown between them. Yet, a flicker of hope ignited within her, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Carlos' aloofness than she had initially assumed.

Y/N's phone buzzed, and her heart skipped a beat as she read Carlos' message: "You and me in my driver's room now." Her hands shook as she knocked on the door, waiting for his response. "Come in," he replied, and as she entered, she couldn't help but notice how he made the fiery Ferrari red his own.

"You can't just waltz back into my life whenever you feel like it, Y/N. Race weekends are sacred to me, and you showing up out of nowhere is a distraction. It's not like you even care about me or my career anyways. When was the last time you watched a race, hmm? Dr. Y/N is always too busy at the hospital."

Y/N wouldn't allow Carlos to lash out at her like this, not after all the sacrifices she had made. Countless sleepless nights on call, choosing to stay awake to watch Carlos race in distant cities. Collecting every article featuring him since his karting days, carefully preserving them in a special scrapbook. Being there for him in his darkest moments, answering late-night calls when the pressure almost crushed him.

"You can't push me away that easily. We both know I've always been there for you, to the point where I didn’t even know who I truly was when you reached Formula 1 and left Madrid," Y/N said. "I only bury myself in my work to avoid facing the emptiness that hangs over the city when you’re not around."

Carlos felt a pang of pain as he witnessed his best friend break down in front of his eyes. Had he truly misunderstood everything all along? Y/N's words pierced through his heart. "I’m all yours. I always have been," she said, her tears dampening her sleeves.

In an attempt to console her, Carlos whispered softly, "Don't cry, princesa. Mama will kill me if she finds out I made you so upset."

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle through her tears. “Well, go out and win this race for me, and I'll promise not to snitch.”

“For you, anything,” he said.

“And for the first time in Formula 1, Carlos Sainz is victorious! He wins the British Grand Prix!” The electrifying announcement filled the air as Y/N ran from the garage to the podium. As Carlos emerged from the car, his eyes searched for one face in particular. With both hands, he gently caressed Y/N's face. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips against hers, years of longing exploding in a passionate release. The two of them radiated a golden glow, as if destiny herself had brought them together, time after time.