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itsfeckinwimdy · 2 years

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3 times Toto was oblivious + the 1 time he was surprised

George Russell x Reader

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Prompt: Toto Wolff may be a good team principal but that doesnt mean hes good at observing things.

Work Count: 1.2k (1257) words

Tree speaks: The physical restrain I had to put on myself to not write Grussell every time I wrote George was immense. This one is a lot better than last week's. I was able to actually enjoy writing this so I might change up what I post each week to keep it varying.

Also, I know that George doesn't have James as his race engineer but I can't part with him so he's in this.

Formula 1 Masterlist

Published: 24/12/2022

One

Barcelona

If Toto thought he was going to have issues with George and Y/n getting along with each other after Lewis' departure as a driver then he would surely be proved wrong.

To him he couldn't have asked for a better pairing, the exception being Y/n and Lewis as they were the dream team, but to him, the new duo seemed to get along a little too well sometimes. Maybe it was him overanalysing everything like he tended to do so, but he had to be critical of his team and ensure that it was the best it could be especially after the consequences of last year.

Toto looked over at where the two were standing in the garage talking to each other. The screens in front of them clearly displayed the data he presumed the two were meant to be reading but were they paying any mind to it at the moment? Of course not.

He had half a mind to go over there and strangle them as they needed to get ready for their first test drive in the W13. However, he paused in his movements. The two of them had descended into fits of laughter, Y/n's hand gripped George's bicep as she held herself upright whilst the younger lad smiled broadly at her. When their laughter ceased, their smiles never faded and they continued to stare at each other. And Y/n's hand never moved.

And Y/n's hand never moved-

Toto's eyes squinted as he stared at them. Was there- no, Toto shook his head ridding himself of those thoughts. There was nothing going on between the two of them.

Two

British grand prix

As Toto continued to discuss and dissuade George from going to the stewards, he didn't notice his other driver clamber out of her car. It wasn't until he saw a blur of black fireproofs barrel into George that he realised she was back in the garage.

He saw the way George pulled her in close to him and how he held the back of her still helmet-clad head whilst she hugged him tightly. His eyebrows furrowed slightly when he noticed that the hug was lasting longer than normal only for the thought to be pulled straight out of his mind as Y/n stepped back to pull her helmet and HANS device off.

"You out of the race?" Y/n asked George only for Toto to sigh in response. He really didn't want to have to listen to George's rant about not being allowed to race again when there was nothing wrong with the car bar a missing tire. Yes, he agreed that it was shitty that he couldn't have started the car up again, however, once the marshalls move the car, the driver is not allowed to continue racing in it.

"Don't-" Toto began, interrupting George from beginning his rant once again, "I don't want to hear another word, we just have to focus on your race now."

The Austrian continued with his avid discussion about what was to happen next not noticing the entwined hands of his drivers or picking up on the "Stay safe" that left George upon Y/n climbing back into the car.

Three

Circuit of the Americas

When the Mercedes crossed the finish line, eruptions of cheers exploded through the garage and the pit lane as Toto himself was ecstatic. Y/n had managed to get the first win for Mercedes of the year and George had continued his streak of being in the top 5 of each race.

That had transpired just over two hours ago and the team was in the process of getting the team photo's ready. The two drivers were currently in the cold air of the garage softly talking to each other whilst their physios were helping them with their cooldown routines.

Toto was currently conversing with James and Bono about how they could improve for the upcoming weekends when his attention was drawn to the back of the garage.

Y/n was hunched over in her seat, an ice pack being held to her lower back by her physio, her hands clasped in her teammates. A few tears fell from her eyes as Toto deduced it was from the pain of the cars' porpoising issues which was mentioned by both drivers earlier today.

George's hand came up to cup her face, wiping away her tears as he kept speaking to her.

Toto turned his gaze away from the two making sure to mention to the race engineers about the porpoising issue they were already aware of but making sure they knew it needed sorting instantly before he walked out the garage to check on the progress of getting the cars in place.

But what he missed in his absence was the two race engineers looking at the two young drivers, witnessing the younger lad place a chaste kiss on Y/n's forehead before resting his own against hers.

+ One

Brazil

The entire Mercedes team crowded into parc ferme underneath the podium, waiting for celebrations to commence. Toto stood amidst the crowd with Susie by his side.

The spray of champagne rained down on him from high above where George had chosen to spray it over the crowd whilst being doused in it himself by his teammate.

Toto couldn't be prouder of the two. Having been able to witness George's first win in both the sprint and the Grand Prix and the first Mercedes 1-2 of the weekend, he couldn't have been happier.

Except that now meant adding the W13 to the collection of race-winning cars.

Maybe there was a spot near the back for it.

Focusing back up on the podium, he saw Y/n pull Goerge into her arms and kiss him, hands reaching up to push the Mercedes cap from his head.

Wait-

Toto blinked in shock as the crowd around him roared in joy.

Are those two together?

He looked at Susie next to him, and then Bono at his other side only to see the two of them cheering the couple, no- the drivers, on.

Had he seriously missed this?

Bonus

"Guess they've finally stopped sneaking around then."

The ever so infuriating voice of Christain Horner flew into Toto's ears as the Austrian turned to look at the greying man.

"What do you mean by that?" Toto questioned him, not understanding what the red bull team principal was referring to.

"Y/n and George," Christian continued, but upon still seeing the confusion on Toto's face he chuckled to himself slightly, "You didn't know?"

"What? Have the two of them been dating for a while now?" Toto slowly put two and two together from the event that occurred on the podium a mere hour ago and Christian's words.

The short British man laughed at the taller man's confusion and blindness, "Oh Toto, everyone knew. They've not entirely been good at keeping it a secret."

And with that Horner walked back to his garage, leaving the Austrian standing in the pitlane contemplating where he went wrong. He heard some muffled laughter from next to him and his head turned to look at the culprit only to see his wife, Susie.

"Was it really that obvious?" he asked her, knowing that she would at least be honest with him.

"Oh, Toto-" Susie nodded as she kept trying to hold in her laughter at her husband's ruffled nature only for him to walk off into the garage and throw his hands up in frustration.

#george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell fanfiction #george russell fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #fic: drabble/imagine #pronouns: she/her #tree writes f1 fics

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h-c-u · 1 year

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Love's Pit Crew - Social Media prequel

Story Summary: A former F2 driver is unable to continue her career in racing due to health reasons. After recovering from the crash, she goes to university to study engineering and at the same time starts to intern at the Mercedes-AMG Petronas facility in Brackley. Eventually, she climbs to the position of Aerodynamics Performance Engineer and starts appearing in the garage during races, where she first meets Bono and develops a crush on him. Her friends (Alex, Nyck, Charles, Lando and George) realize that and decide to play Cupid and get them together. The story will be about them arraigning situations in which Reader will be alone with Bono, so they can get to know each other more. The rest of the story will be written (aka - no social media AU. Ok, maybe some inserts from group chat because I enjoyed coming up with it very much). And there will be shenanigans.

Chapter Summary: A Media/Social Media blurb showing the reader's backstory and her relationships with the current F1 grid.

Pairing: none in this part. It will be Peter Bonnington x fem!reader (30yo) in the future.

Additional Characters in this chapter: Alex Albon, Nyck de Vries, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, and George Russell (all platonic friendships).

Rating: PG

A/N: I've spent too much time planning, researching, and making coloured graphs for everything to fit on the timeline not to put it anywhere, so here we go, I guess. I don't know yet if there will be multiple parts or just one follow-up, but if anyone wants to be tagged - please let me know in the comments under this part <3

Technical Note: It's my 1st SMAU and I was trying to find a way for it to be good quality across devices, but what looks good in the browser, looks blurry on mobile and vice versa. Because of that I am posting links to good quality versions of each of the pictures above said picture, so hopefully, everyone will be able to enjoy it :)

Masterlist | List of tags | Taglist

[link] ↓

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Peter Bonnington fanfic #Peter Bonnington fanfiction #Peter Bonnington x reader #Formula 1 fanfic #Formula 1 fanfiction #Alex Albon fanfiction #Nyck De Vries fanfiction #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #Lando Norris fanfiction #George Russell fanfiction #Love's Pit Crew by G.

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libraryofloveletters · 2 years

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Pack Light

George Russell x Reader

Warnings: George has airport dad energy, a series of unfortunate packing events, Lewis is the plug, general couples teasing each other, all around soft boyfriend George <33

Word Count: 2.0k

Author’s Note: this has been sitting in my inbox for over 2 months and it’s time I wrote it + I expanded on it, hope that’s okay anon! <3 -- based on this ask: one

----

The sunshine was calling your name. There was nothing you wanted more than to be sitting on a lounger, a drink in hand and the warm sun beating down on your skin.

Alas, you were not there.

Cold, rainy England held you in its grasps but not for long.

The two of you were last minute packing for your trip, you needed to leave for the airport in 3 hours. George had surprised you with a vacation, he was whisking you off to some Caribbean island for a week in the sun and since you were only going to be there for a week, you both decided to pack light.

One suitcase for the two of you was the original idea but you quickly realized that would not work. One suitcase each was more plausible.

Your suitcase sat opened on the floor, George’s on the bed as you folded the pants he had left behind the opened suitcase. Your boyfriend was currently in the bathroom, groaning about something.

“Georgie ?” You call, setting the pants in the suitcase before getting up. “Baby, what’s going on?” you ask, peeking into the bathroom.

George has got his back to you, hands on the counter and he’s hunched over. Your first instinct is that something is wrong.

So you ask; “what’s wrong?” Resting a hand on his back.

George glances over at you, “I can’t fit all of this into the bag.” He tells you, gesturing to the collection of products on the counter. “Can I put some in your bag?”

“My toiletries and makeup bags are full, honey.”

“Impossible,” George shook his head. “We have..” he glances at his watch, “two hours and fifty three minutes to leave the house. We can do this. Get the bag, we’ll rearrange it.”

You sigh, stepping out of the bathroom to get your makeup and toiletries bag from your suitcase.

You were both standing in the bathroom, all of the products dumped onto the counter. Your makeup was emptied first; foundation, colour corrector, concealer, highlight, blush, primer, mascara, lashes, 3 eyeshadow palettes, bronzer, chapstick, lipstick and lipgloss.

“Do you really need all of this?” George asks, unzipping the bottom half of the bag to see your brushes at the bottom.

“If you want me to look like a zombie on vacation, I can leave it home.” You tell him, the annoyance evident in your tone.

George sets the bag back down, “okay so that’s all going.”

“Here, fine.” You sort through the pile, “I'll compromise.” One of the four lipglosses from the makeup bag gets tossed back in the drawer. George can't help but laugh, he gives you a round of applause, “wow, good job. Thank you so much darling, that makes such a huge difference.”

“I thought so too,” you smile.

The skin care bag was next, George carefully dumps it out onto the counter. The bag contained a face mask, face wash, toner, pimple patches, serum, eye cream, moisturizer and face oil.

“Why do you need face oil?” George asks, inspecting the bottle. You pick up the black bottle on the counter, “you have aftershave.. you barely grow facial hair.”

George fakes a gasp, pulling the bottle away from you. “Shut up,” he laughs.

“Okay but we don’t need doubles of this stuff,” you point out the two bottles of moisturizer and toner.

As it would turn out, you and George use a lot of the same products for your skin care and it didn’t make sense to overpack and take doubles when you were taking one suitcase each. You two sort through the products to see who has more left and manage to condense it into one bag rather than two; and yes, George’s aftershave made it into the bag.

You two head back into the bedroom, you toss him the bag. “That goes in your suitcase, mine’s almost full.” George didn’t argue. He knew you had more clothing which meant extra weight, not to mention the million and one extra outfits you packed just for Instagram photos.

When he asked why you would need so many pictures and so many outfits, you told him that you weren't sure when you two would be going on vacation again between your hectic work schedules so you were going to milk the hell out of this vacation.

George can’t lie, he sneaked a few extra pieces into his luggage for the same reason.

The rest of things were now shoved into George’s suitcase and he sat on the bed double checking your flight status when you returned from the bathroom with your very large bottle of body wash.

“Honey, you can buy that there.” He reminds you, watching you shove it into the inner pocket of his suitcase.

“Why? To end up with two half used bottles? Seems wasteful.” You tell him, zipping the suitcase.

George glances over at you after he shuts his laptop, slipping it into his backpack. He thought your wasteful comment reminded him of someone and then it clicks. “Have you been talking to Sebastian ?” He teases, making you laugh.

“Yeah,” you play along, “jealous ?”

“Of Sebastian ?” George asks, “husband and father of 3? No, I don’t think I am, darling.” He smiles, his hands finding your waist before pulling you to him. Your hands are flat on his chest, smiling at the man holding you.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we're going to end up in bed.” You tell him, brushing him off.

George pulls you back, snagging a kiss before you push him off once more. “C’mon, let’s go. We have to head out.” You tell him, grabbing the last of your things and running through the checklist in your head.

You two head out for the airport, George insisted on driving himself even when an Uber made more sense. Not only did he take four million years with the guy at the park and fly booth, but George also stopped for a coffee which you had a feeling you were going to regret.

Things were going too smoothly. Something was going to go wrong, that’s just your luck.

Not like you jinxed it or anything, but boy, were you right.

The flight was in less than two hours and you were about to walk to the check in desk when George turned to you, stopping you. “Do you have my passport?” He asks you, searching through his backpack.

Your brows furrow, “why would I have your passport? It was on the nightstand.”

“Okay, don’t panic.” He starts and you roll your eyes, “that’s going to make me panic, George.”

“I don’t have it.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it?” You ask him, beginning to look through your own bag for yours. “I thought you picked it up,” he says, “I saw you looking through the nightstand and I figured you picked it up.”

“Yeah?” You sigh, looking at your boyfriend, “figured wrong because I don’t have mine either.”

“Okay,” George pauses, thinking what to do. “I can run home and grab them. I'll be back before the check in closes.” You nod but then stop him before he goes running off. “Check and see if the route is clear, it’s rush hour.”

George makes a quick check, sighing as he scrolled through his phone. “Two hours at most, all routes are backed up because an accident.”

There was no way to get home, get the passports and be back in time for your flight. It was like the lightbulb appeared over your head and you turned to your boyfriend. “What about from home to here?” You ask, pulling your phone from your pocket.

“Why?” He asks, clearly confused as to why you wanted to know the route from home to the airport.

“Can you just check?”

You have already opened the chat, just waiting for George to give you the details. “It��s clear, it’s going east that’s blocked.”

“Perfect.” You tell him, typing away on your phone. George is often confused by you, you did questionable things but they tended to work so he waited to see what it was you were doing.

Meanwhile your boyfriend stood confused, you had hatched a plan. Texting the one person you knew was going to be able to help you.

To Lewis: LEWIS!! EMERGENCY!!

From Lewis: What’s wrong? Are you okay?

To Lewis: forgot our passports at home and there’s a roadblock going east. Could you bring them?? it’s clear coming this way.

From Lewis: no problem, where’s the stuff?

To Lewis: key is under the blue flower pot in the backyard and the alarm code is 6344. passports are on the nightstand in the bedroom.

To Lewis: ignore the mess.

From Lewis: cute alarm code :) be there in 30.

You show George the phone and he lets out a breath. “You always know what to do, don’t you?” He says, an arm over your shoulder.

“Kinda my specialty.” You say, smiling at him.

It wasn’t even the full 30 minutes and Lewis had called to let you know he was outside. He rolls down the window and you lean into the car to get the passports from him.

“Held onto the key, figured it’d be safer with me.” He tells you, smiling as you pat a sleeping Roscoe in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you Lew, you’re a lifesaver.” You smile at him and he nods, smiling. You take a step back and let George speak to his teammate, the man bent down to peek into the window, his hand reaching down to rub the sleeping puppy’s side.

“Mate, thank you.” George says, his hand extending towards Lewis. The two of them share a half way handshake. “We’ll bring you back a souvenir.” George tells him, standing up straight now.

Lewis laughs, “bring me back a baby Russell, need another baby to spoil.”

“I’ll try my best.” George tells him, chuckling. You two wave off the man, thanking him once more for his help.

George leans you two back in, you manage to make it through check in without any problems and with 40 minutes to spare before you board. You were sitting by the gate, digging through your purse when George returned from talking to someone he knew.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips. You bite back a smile, “I uh- I forgot my charger,” you tell him.

George chuckles, “I'll buy one for you, stay here. Don’t wander off.”

You raise your hands in surrender, promising to stay put. The last time you two went on vacation, he had left you by the gate when he went to the bathroom and returned to find your spot empty. You had wandered off to check the gift shop and the other stores around it whilst he was gone and you forgot to text him.

This time you stayed put, waiting for your boyfriend to return.

He was gone all of ten minutes, returning with the charger and a bottle of ginger ale. “What’s this for?” You ask, the man handing you both things.

“To settle your stomach,” he says, sitting beside you. “I noticed you took your meds.” He smiles, kissing your temple as his arm comes up around your shoulder.

You usually didn’t get nervous when flying but after the whole passport fiasco, you were on a little tailspin so you took one of your pills to relax.

“Baby?” he calls for you and you look over your shoulder at him. “Maybe next time we don’t pack light, hm?” He asks, making you laugh.

---

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i4bellingham · 2 years

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HAPPIER: mason mount x reader

SYNOPSIS: you only appreciate what you have when it's gone. mason feels that certain way about you.

CONTENT: angst, breakups, written from mason's pov, oc named amelia, george russell x reader, kind of rushed ending (?) + not proofread please don’t sue me 🙏🏻

NOTE: i hope everyone's had a good week so far! if not, then i hope this upcoming one will be a lot more bearable for you <3 also not sure about the title like i literally suck at coming up with it but please ignore that if it doesn't match lol

ONE.

Everything felt like shit.

Everything just felt different now that you're finally out of Mason’s life.

It doesn't feel suffocating but it does feel like there's a hollow in his chest every time a reoccurring memory of you flashes by his mind.

It doesn't hurt. It doesn't bother him. But Mason does feel numb. He feels numb to everything around him and feeling certain emotions are lost.

A month after you left, the entire house was merely an imitation of what it used to be before it was bought; bare, soulless and empty. There's no longer any scent of coffee filling the house from your constant brewing. There's no more extra set of skin care supplies on the bathroom sink saved for you. There's no more neatly arranged closet when you hurriedly tucked away your clothes in your luggage before you left, leaving the closet nearly barren of anything to remember you by. The plants had all dried up from the lack of care from its now sole owner. The paintings and photos that used to give your walls a depiction of your character and your love for each other was now left empty, bare gray walls catching Mason’s eyes like the colorless sensation there is to his chest.

Everything wasn't the same.

Everything was never going to be the same.

TWO.

An entire year had passed by, yet there were still no apparent changes in Mason and his way of living.

Christian and Kai suggested for him to see somebody else, venture out and relive his romantic adventures with someone new.

Mason knew he shouldn't, not when he's not in a capable state to even be thinking about starting a new relationship but he simply nods his head. He agrees with their suggestion, just so they don’t bother him about this part of his life that he knows will never function the same.

And so, Mason prepares himself for the blind date prepped by his two friends that will happen in the weekend.

He got three more days left to sort himself out. He doesn't do anything. He dreads for that day to come.

Her name was Amelia.

THREE.

She was a nice lady. She had a kind smile, one that almost threw him off as she sat in front of him, introducing herself and shaking his hands. She wore an outfit he knew you'd be fussing to wear, he knew you'd ask him a plenty of questions and he'd assure you just as many times that you look phenomenal, just like you always do. Amelia was chatty, but not in the overbearing kind. She knew how to carry the conversation that Mason could give zero fucks about. But for the sake of her kindness, he tries to match her energy with his fake smiles, fake laughter, fake enthusiasm, fake everything. He just wants for the night to be over. He just wants to go home.

“I know you haven't healed from your last relationship with...” Amelia starts, and Mason was ready to cut her off, tell her that she doesn't have the right to touch such a sensitive subject with him, not when they barely know each other at all. “And I’m in the same position. The last relationship was what I thought would be my endgame, I was wrong obviously.” She chuckles, but it felt and sound faked in Mason’s ears.

Is that how he sounded all evening? Like he was restrained from something that kept him from showing his real emotions to a girl who showed him nothing but kindness?

Amelia leans back on her seat, a timid smile on her lips as she offers him her hand. “So because of that, I know I'm not in the right condition to be finding someone as of now to be in a relationship with... but I would like for us to be friends, if that's alright with you?”

Amelia waits for Mason to respond, and for a split second he considers declining her offer, tell her he's already got a bunch of them but he sighs and with that sigh he shakes her hand, now with a small genuine smile on his lips.

“Fine. Friends.”

He shouldn't have agreed to being her friend. Not when he knew there was a chance of her falling like in the cliche movies and books where the female friend falls for her male friend.

FOUR.

And as the tears run down from her eyes, Mason bites the insides of his cheeks as he moves his head to divert his gaze elsewhere.

“I don’t know until when do I have to compete with her... she's not here anymore Mase but why are you so keen on holding onto your memories with someone who's already moved on with someone else?” She asks him, weeping softly.

Mason isn't sure why himself. Was it the memories? Was it the way you used to love him so freely? Was it the way you accepted him for all his flaws and stayed by his side despite the time where football grew harsh on him and he wasn't on his best form? Was it because you saw past his flaws but still stayed with him, whispering how much he means to you and how much you love him during the late night evenings when you're both on bed and when you thought he was already fast asleep? Whispering kind and loving words so emotionally that tears ran down your cheeks and onto the bed, probably thinking that he doesn't know that you show him your most vulnerable state of loving when you think he's asleep beside you? Which was it?

“I’m here for you Mase. I’ve been here for you for for nearly a year. She might have loved you differently but I can love you in my own way... just let her go.”

Mason lets her hand go, turning his back on her as he walks back and forth in front of Amelia in the parking lot of the restaurant.

“You know I can't do that-” Mason bites his lips, gnawing on it as he paces. “Ame you know I can't do that-”

Amelia walks over to him, grabbing his hands and she pleads him, tells him that Yes, You can Mase! You can but you just chose not to!

Mason wants to tell her that he can't. That he shouldn't have gone to that blind date in the very first place because now he's hurting the one friend who was there for him, who understood him.

But as another car flashes their headlights to their left as it was being parked and a familiar figure steps out, all thoughts immediately leave Mason’s head.

The door to the restaurant opens before Kai steps out, wanting to fuse down the conversation and get the two back inside before his eyes too lands on the familiar figure standing a mere 10 feet away from them. And all of a sudden, that plan doesn't seem as easy as it sounded in Kai’s head.

Because like some fucked up game the fates conjured, you were there, standing and staring at the situation you were cluelessly partly the cause of.

“Mase? Kai?”

Mason nearly ran to you, beg for you to take him back, tell you that he still loved you despite your relationship ending a year and a half ago. But somethingㅡsomeone kept him from doing so and just ultimately saved his face from the embarrassment it could've caused.

“You know them love?” George fucking Russell places an arm around your waist as he awaits for your answer, patiently and kindly doing so before you're nodding your head with a smile.

“Yeah... they're my, my friends.”

Friends? Ha. Mason wanted to clarify that he wasn't just a friend, that he was but he was your boyfriend once too.

George sends them a head nod and a tight-lipped smile. “Well... it's always nice to meet my girlfriend’s friends. I’m George Russell.”

Kai walks over to offer a hand, one that George immediately shakes before the German hugs you. You wrap an arm around Kai, warily eyeing Mason and only then noticing the girl beside him.

You were about to approach them and introduce yourself when Mason opens his mouth and says something he knew he will regret immensely.

“You should join us... for dinner. Just so we can, catch up and talk properly.” He offers, and Kai sends him a warning look.

“That is if we're not going to be a bother with your night, of course.” Kai adds. “You can joins us at our table.”

“Yeah.” Amelia nods her head beside Mason, and he notices that she's dried her tears, plastering on one of her friendly smiles. “I would love to know Y/N that I have heard so much about from the guys.”

Instead of declining, you turn your head to George. “Can we love?”

George fucking Russell leans down to fucking kiss your head, smiling charmingly as he replies. “Sure love, we can join them for dinner. Would be a nice opportunity to know your friends better I reckon.” He chuckles.

Amelia leads the way, opening the door as she gestures for you and George to follow her in while introducing herself to the both of you.

Mason and Kai were left standing in front of the restaurant, the recent happening weighing heavily on the both of them and embracing them in an uncomfortable silence.

But Kai breaks that after a while, shooting him a stern glare as he points a finger on Mason’s chest. “Don’t do something fucking stupid Mase. I know you, but don't do something that will hurt you and her again.” Kai follows after the three of you inside the restaurant, leaving Mason alone to dwell on his thoughts.

Mason used to think that everything was colourless, dreary and hollow after you left. He still believes in it. He doesn't know how to fix this way of feeling and thinking but after tonight, he's sure that there's no way of retrieving you back with him no matter how much he wants to. Not when there's a ring band on your ring finger. Not when you're already entwined with someone else that you so clearly loved, just awaiting for the time to pronounce your love in front of family and friends.

Mason is so used to think of everything so differently, and he can't help but think that maybe he'll never get over this one anytime soon.

#☆ i4bellingham writes.#☆ mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount x oc #mason mount imagine #mason mount one shot #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount #george russell #george russell x reader #george russell x you #george russell fanfiction

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writingshushf1 · 1 year

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THE LONELIEST

Summary: You'll be the saddest part of me. A part of me that will never be mine. It's obvious. Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

Rating: +16

Warnings: angst? breakup? losing someone

Word count: 3.7k

Note: this was an old pierre gasly fic that i wrote last year for a friend- however since i don't actually like writing for him (and the plot doen't fit for him AT ALL) i rewrote some details and now here it is! I did it with george because it matched him? i guess and to change a bit from the usual either mick or lewis requests. MAY HAVE SOME MISTAKES on writing

masterlist

It was supposed to be just one night, a single dawn of fun and silly mistakes, but I was wrong. And life is never that easy.

Monaco, August 2022.

The view was breathtaking, clearly worth every penny spent. Strolling through Port Hercule at night was breathtaking, the yachts lit up, people partying and living in every possible luxury. I admit, I was a little jealous, I really wanted to be in the middle of it all.

It seemed very well that fate really wanted me to make the most of it, because within minutes a man taller than me came closer. At first I was apprehensive and turned away slightly, until he began to speak.

"A friend of mine saw that you were alone here, taking pictures of the place and walking. Um..." The man looked me up and down. "Invitation from her, if you want, you can join us." He smiled at me, clearly the stranger possessed the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.

For a few seconds, I thought about the proposal, because they were strangers and I didn't know what they wanted to do with me, but you only live once. Before agreeing, I sent the location to my friend. If I didn't answer within 3 hours, she could get desperate and call the police.

"Sure. We can go, yes." He held out his hand to me, reluctantly, I held it and let him guide me around the place. "I don't know your name yet."

"George Russell. You?"

"Y/n."

"Interesting name, where are you from?" Russell was trying to initiate some conversation until we got to the boat. It was cute, like he was really interested in what I was going to talk about.

I answered, seeing him crack a smile. "However, these last few years I am hopping around several countries because of my job."

When we entered the luxurious place, I could no longer hear him properly, the conversations and loud music filled our surroundings, he just smiled and dragged me to the small bar set up.

"On the house, whatever drink you want." He murmured over my ear. This distance was too dangerous.

Hours later, I woke up crossed in my hotel bed. I had an unbearable hangover, but I was not going to let it ruin my day. Again, I was exploring the place to find out something to do. I walked around the city, hoping to bump into the pair of clear eyes that had kept me company on the yacht. Since it was a Sunday, brunch would be my choice for my first meal of the day, so I walked around looking for a place to eat. After a while I found a small, cozy restaurant and the first person I see when I enter is him. My heart races and I seem to hold my breath involuntarily.

"Y/n!" He calls out loudly, breaking my trance, "I thought I would never see you again."

"I didn't think so either, not least because we were too crazy yesterday to be rational and take each other's number." I laughed lightly.

"So… This is Alex Albon and Mick Schumacher, two very close friends of mine." I greeted them both. "So... Tonight we're going out to a nightclub, if you'd like to join us, just let me know the hotel you're in and I'll come pick you up."

"You really enjoyed my company!" I said, cracking a smile immediately afterwards.

"What can I do? You're the life of the party, honey."

...

Okay, I was on the verge of a breakdown and it was about one piece of clothing. It had been 30 minutes and I couldn't decide between two dresses. It was almost time for me to go down to the hotel lobby and I was still standing there in just my underwear looking at both. My cell phone ringing was the highlight, it was him and he was probably already waiting for me downstairs. Out of desperation I grabbed the simplest but most low-cut black dress.

The elevator took ages - actually, seconds - to drop me off on the first floor and I ran to meet him.

"Wow, you're a sight for sore eyes, someone was definitely inspired today" He said as I got closer to him, I just rolled my eyes and he laughed, opening the car door for me.

Arriving at the club, I was clearly feeling out of place, the people were extremely rich and in the middle of them, there was I. We went to the VIP area and soon I was already with a glass of an expensive drink in hand and making small talk with George. He had the best subjects to hold me in conversation while he managed to flirt shamelessly and I was completely falling for it. The boys and his other friends were dancing with girls - either his girlfriends or random girls, while he was trying to be as sexy as possible, trying to impress me. And he was.

"Let's dance." I spoke softly to him, holding his hand and pulling him into the group of people.

Unholy, by Sam Smith was playing and at that moment I was not me, not even a little bit, it seemed that all the shame and lack of courage had been taken from me. The British had already understood what I was doing, so he rested his firm hands on my waist as I danced shamelessly, moving my body against him. He was enjoying what I was doing, his breaths getting heavier and closer to my ear, until his face was pressed against the back of my neck. Thank God it was dark and no one could see how we were grinding into each other

"Oh God, doll..." He murmured, which left me with my cheeks boiling with embarrassment, however it was not the moment. "I want to kiss you so badly."

"Kiss me then."

In a matter of seconds, I felt my body being turned around and his lips were against mine. I couldn't help myself, I ran my hands over his body, from his chest to the back of his neck. He responded in the same way, his hands were not discreet and it didn't matter who saw us like that. The kiss was hot and desperate, as if he had wanted it since he first saw me. When we parted for some air, his lips were a purplish shade of purple from my lipstick, which made me laugh softly at the forgotten detail.

"Do you want to get out of here? Where I live there is plenty of room for one more person to spend the night there." His hand was already strong on my waist, as a sign of dominance and it made a puddle form inside my panties

"Okay."

We could have reached where he lived in 5 minutes, but with the amount of distractions we had on the way, it ended up lasting 20. We can say that a few kisses and touches were exchanged in the meantime.

Russell’s desire was gigantic, for the moment I closed the door, I was picked up and seconds later my back was against the bed. I took off my heels anyway and he was soon on top of me.

"That dress clearly had an effect on me." That was the last thing he said before he kissed me again.

...

I opened my eyes slowly, the darkness of the room that was not mine confused me for a few seconds until I remembered where I really was. It was at that moment that I felt hands around my naked waist and George sleeping peacefully beside me. My first reaction was not to move, he looked so calm that I turned my body to lie against his chest, just to enjoy the moment of peace, but happiness doesn't last long...

"Good morning." His voice was half hoarse and in a low tone. Shit, why so hot?

"Good morning." I sighed loudly and stood, completely forgetting that I was only in my panties until he groaned at me, my cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

"Vision of paradise." I said unashamedly.

I didn't answer, just smiled shyly and quickly got dressed. Soon I was brushing my teeth and he didn't even get out of bed. When I was ready to leave, the British got up in just his underwear.

"Why are you going already? We had such a good night..." Indeed, the night had been one of the best I had ever had.

"Because..." There was no reason, we didn't work together, we don't even have any previous relationship or that would cause future problems. "There is no reason. I thought we were just a one-night stand."

"It doesn't have to be a one-night stand. If you want." He said in a lower tone, as if it were our secret. "I'm willing to try." His hands passed around my waist, pulling my body against his and away from the door.

I thought for a moment before answering. My previous relationships had been terrible and no one seemed to be the person. I hardly knew him, didn't know where he worked, just that he was very rich, his hobbies...

"We can try." And so, I made the most painful mistake of my life.

...

I was wearing one of his shirts, while he was ordering our breakfast - they looked so big on me. He was tall so his outfits were bigger. I sat on the window ledge, looking out at the beautiful scenery that could be seen from there. As soon as he returned with two relatively large boxes, I smiled.

"Don't go anywhere, I'll tidy up and we can eat with the beautiful view on the balcony." My heart melted for a few seconds, how cute could he be? Clearly my view of him had changed in a matter of minutes.

Neither of us shared a word while we were eating, but in our defense, the food was wonderful, which drew a few satisfied sighs. Still, in order to make conversation and find out about his personal life, I made conversation again.

"George?"

"Huh?"

"What do you work in? So far I haven't asked you or even googled you to find out if you are some big tycoon who can rent an apartment in Monaco." The tone was not one of malice, just curiosity. "I know at times, you had people from afar taking pictures of you, but I thought I just thought you were handsome. It's just that I have this thing… I mean, which job is so good that you live here." I cracked an amused smile, crossing my legs over his.

"Formula 1 driver. Currently at Mercedes." He replied as if it was the most common job in the world, yet at the same moment I knocked over the piece of cronut that was in my hands. "I thought you already knew!"

"No! I didn't know? Look... I only know the most famous ones that have passed through the sport... Senna, Schumacher, Prost...Lauda. I had no idea who was currently in the sport." He just laughed at my surprise. "That's why people keep watching you from afar! By God! What if they saw us leaving the club last night? What could that do to your reputation?"

"Honey. Calm down, it's not that dramatic." He used his free hand to place it over my cheek. "They always speculate about our lives and I couldn't care less. If we are available to try, I think more about you. You're not used to living in this life of cameras and constant attention."

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"For you? Yes."

...

Two weeks went by and there I was, watching from my cell phone, the Dutch Grand Prix, all for George Russell. Officially we were still nothing, however, under the surface. He was my boyfriend.

Something so strange to say, as much as I know he is the right person. At that moment I was at the airport, ready to catch a plane to the province of Monza, so that we could spend a week together - more like post-practice on Friday, post-qualifying on Saturday and post-race on Sunday, because I cannot yet afford to quit my job to live as a fan of my boyfriend.

That's when the inevitable problems started to happen.

I arrived exhausted in Monza and went straight to the hotel, didn't answer messages and didn't even look at my cell phone properly. I was so tired that I wanted my bed. Russell was extremely worried and almost considered leaving the Netherlands on Monday because of my disappearance. On Tuesday, he came to my hotel room, but I was constantly in meetings and doing work, which did not please him, because he missed my company. That day he apologized. On Wednesday I got some time off, but he had already arranged to leave with his friends. There was nothing to apologize for. By Thursday he was already involved with the race that would happen on Sunday and I continued working. We hardly spoke to each other.

On Friday, after the free training sessions, we had a dinner scheduled in a fancy restaurant and we managed to go. I can say that it was the best night, because we didn't sleep afterwards, we just killed our homesickness with lots of wine, conversation and sex.

Saturday was qualifying and I was there. Sunday, third place. I was proud of him and we celebrated together with the others. I felt out of place with the other girlfriends and partners of the pilots, for the most part they were all so Chic, I felt left out, because I was a simple girl who, with the effort of my family that helped me get to a renowned company, was still not enough.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were ordinary, goodbye is always painful, I would only see him in a few weeks. One of those nights around the weekend, he said I love you and I said it back, hanging up the phone before I could hear his answer.

We haven't seen each other in person for over a month. He travels to one side of the world. I am in a different city, we try to reconcile time zones and catch planes, but our routine is dull and it is upsetting for both of us. What keeps us positive is the end of the season and finally we can spend weeks and weeks together. Four more races and this year is over.

Each time more time passed, the pain in my chest of longing increased, because we were amazing together, love seemed to overflow, yet the pain of not having him by my side hurt me and I know that it also affected him mentally. A painful truth seemed to grow in my chest. I was trying to knead it, but it was getting bigger and bigger.

The agony often took over my body. The fear of him never coming home, what if he found someone better? What if I gave up this crazy life he was living? If I wanted more security?

Maybe this was not the time to be together.

And that only proved to be true around Christmas. Our first fight, over something as simple as where we were going to spend the holiday together, ended in both sides crying and endless apologies. Our temper was still the biggest problem for both of us, even if our love was big and beautiful. Explosiveness to end everything in a matter of seconds. We were in a weird mood for 3 days after that. The decision was to spend Christmas each with their own family, the relationship was too new for us to go out showing off to each other and this was right, newly blossoming feelings. I spent the holiday period sending pictures and messages, getting minimal responses, but it was expected.

After that, the relationship was still very good, we couldn't see each other on some weekends, the other turned to love and sex, yet there was an elephant in our midst that no one wanted to mention. The start of racing in 2023. He was now in a relatively better car than the previous one and that would demand even more of him.

We avoided the subject until the start of pre-season testing. His mental health was worse than usual, but he was happy with the results, I was... My family had disassembled, losing someone was never easy, much less when your job also blew up in less than a week after that, besides being on the other side of the world with no prediction of returning home. Everything had piled up and was taking too much out of both of us.

He was trying to be everything, only my life was meaningless and no matter how much I returned the love, I knew it was still not enough for his big, passionate heart.

We needed to talk.

...

The second day he was home, my body was exhausted from looking out for work so as not to leave him paying for it alone, even though he didn't mind. As soon as I arrived, I ran to his lap, where I hid my face and let him comfort me.

"We need to talk."

"What's it about, kitten?"

"We... We are distant. Not physically, but mentally... It seems that our lives don't want to share with each other. I need to go back to my country and I don't know if I can get back here anytime soon, while you... You are in an amazing team, living a dream of winning podiums... To be adored by new people. They are not working out."

"Love..."

"I am serious. Haven't you noticed that every time our lives come into our relationship, either we fight and come out crying or one of us needs to be consoling the other? It's never about enjoying each other's lives, participating, feeling at home. It is about working like convicts and maybe on the weekend getting together for sex sessions and small talk over a bottle of wine. Not that I don't love this and don't love you.”

"However?"

"Yet this is killing me, and it's killing you, too. You're 25 years old, baby. At the peak of your career and so soon you don't want to retire and stop the momentum. I need some calm right now, my family is destroyed. You are married to your career, which I don't think is completely wrong for your environment, but our visions of the future will not fit together. At least not today."

I watched him swallow hard, his face turned to the side, tears timidly streaming down his face. Without even hesitating, I run both hands over his face, wiping them away.

"I don't want to break up with you. It's the first time I've ever been completely given over to someone. I have never, ever really devoted myself as much, felt as loved as you have made me feel, honey. " The crying voice brought pain to my heart and I wanted to give up halfway through. "Don't do this to me."

"You know I don't want to either." I murmured, ignoring my own tears and leaning my forehead against his. "But it's the best thing for both of us. How many times have we cried this week? Over things within our relationship that we can't fix. They're incorrigible because they're not up for us to change, George."

"I know. I know all this, but I don't want to lose you."

"You won't lose me. I promise you. One day we will meet again."

"How do you know?"

"Because our lives aren't on the same page. One day we'll have our right moment and we'll make everything we couldn't experience in these months count. I promise."

"I will never forget you.

"Then let's make this night unforgettable."

And we had sex that night. We cried together, packed my bags, and cried some more. And in a few hours I was at the airport to return to my country. He didn't want to let me go, his hug was so strong and his kisses were endless, they were so desperate but at the same time they carried so much love. Everyone always said that goodbyes were always hard, even more so for young loves.

"This here. It stays with you. When you think it's our time, you give it back to me." He took it off one of his favorite necklaces, placing it around my neck.

I was unresponsive for a few seconds, just enjoying the touch of his hands. "I will always love you, Russ."

"And I will always love you too, love. See you someday?"

"See you someday."

So we had our last kiss, intense, with his tongue next to mine, bodies glued together, and then a strong and tearful hug, and minutes later I was walking into the plane, my face swollen. I couldn't stop crying and thinking how incredible that love had been.

Thinking about the future with him, with the possibility of meeting him again made me cry even more, because I had the courage to leave him, however I knew it was the best, I didn't want us to end with just hate and no love.

When you love, sometimes you have to make the hardest choice.

...

George (pov)

I was sitting on my bed. I didn't know that love could hurt so much as it did right now.

"She was that person who messed everything up and yet, fixed everything at the same time. I was no longer Russell who did things without thinking. She loved me so much and I loved her so much. Why does everything that is good have such a painful end? It was just like a novel... Which was supposed to be beautiful, the kind that annoys people with all the love the main characters have, but…” Lewis just listened to me, with a hand on my shoulder. He squeezed slightly, to show that he understood what I meant.

"The greatest loves don't last forever, friend." He murmured, giving me a hug where I let myself cry.

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paddockbunny · 2 years

Text

The Right Man

Summary : George is one of your longest friends but he’s also your boss, and it’s wrong to have a crush on your best friend and boss right?! Rating : 16+ but please check the TWs Pairing : George Russell x Reader Word Count : 2,124. Trigger Warnings : adult themes, adult language, kissing, unrequited love delectation, best friend trope, boss employee trope, angsty but nothing too bad

Gif owner : @russellius 🥰

Authors note : Still sick but feeling better, thank god! I don’t know if I like this enough but I thought I’d post it and see what you guys thought. Also this fucking app decided not to save my original formatted post so there are a line or two that are missing and I can’t remember what they were so please forgive me if this makes no sense, I’ll run back through it at some point! The “read more” thing will be put in when I can 😘

The party buzzed around the small group you were a part of. Music thumped away in the background and the sound of people enjoying their summer holidays blended amongst it. You hadn’t been to Mykonos before. Hell, you hadn’t even been to Greece before but it was George that insisted you chum him on his summer break that brought you here.

“Keep me company and out of mischief” as he put it. And that was what you were currently doing. You had nursed your fruity cocktail for nearly 40 minutes - the ice slowly turning into water and diluting the strong alcohol due to the stiflingly hot Grecian air - so to keep a clear, open head incase George needed you. Although the notion of him needing you right now seemed ridiculous seeing as he hadn’t needed you professionally this whole trip. A few times you had even thought he might have wanted you here for other reasons. Just yesterday, while out on that yacht he chartered, you were convinced he was eyeing you up when you strolled outside in your bikini. But you almost became certain he had brought you along on false pretences when he practically pulled you into his lap when someone made everyone get together for a group photograph. You could still feel the imprint of his large oversized hand on the curve of your waist. It was almost seared on your flesh like a griddle mark on a piece of tuna. But then you thought he was just being George. Sweet, gentle, gorgeous George. The same one that had asked you to be his personal assistant without you having a single idea what the hell personal assistants even really did. The same George that as a result of that job allowed you to travel the world with him. The George that trusted you, implicitly. That was why your little fantasy of the “boss falling for his employee” seemed so far out of the realms of possibility it simply failed to even comprehend it could exist.

“…and what about you? Boyfriend?” The guy who seemed to know George very well asked, turning to you and shooting you a slight smirking smile “or girlfriend?”

“Uh no. No boyfriend. And no girlfriend.” You glanced at George upon your last word and you saw the cheeky hint of a grin momentarily glide across his mouth. You wanted to believe he had just had the vision of you and another girl together and he was enjoying the thought of it. Typical male fantasy, you figured. “Why? You are a beautiful, beautiful girl.” You realised the man that was talking to you seemed familiar and had a thick Spanish accent but seemed a tad out of place in such a noisy busy bar. Although, you felt you were being a little judgmental as he might have been younger than his salt and peppered dark hair would lead you to believe and besides, you were sure you recognised him from somewhere but you pushed the thought out of your mind in order to answer him.

“Haven’t found the right man.” You shouted above the music and this guys eyes instantly shot toward George which although made you feel sort of awkward, you also felt a bit “wait-a-minute-why-are-you-looking-at-him-and-does-that-mean-something-I-probably-should-know”-ish.

The night ended a little earlier than you had anticipated. You thought George would want to be out till the small hours of the morning. Partying, living it up and being centre of attention. But instead, George whispered in your ear he was ready to leave only an hour or so after the conversation with that guy (who you still couldn’t quite put your finger on how you knew) and so you organised a car to come and the you both up to go back to the beautiful villa he had rented. In the car you became aware that although the ice had been slowly melting in your drinks it had not diluted the alcohol quite as much as you thought it did and so the buzz you were feeling was very much real. Hearing George’s laugh as you swayed while the car went round a rather dramatic corner made you laugh yourself.

“Those drinks were stronger than I thought they were.” “That’s why you only had three and nursed them all the whole night? A little lightweight are we?” He enjoyed having a little fun with you. Mocking and playfully taunting you. Afterall, he was the only person in your life that could get away with it without you ever feeling offended. But that was what came with the decades of friendship the pair of you had. And it was the precise thing you were worried about when George asked you to work for him. You didn’t want to ruin the jovial, relaxed vibes between the pair of you that took so long to build. It may have also been the exact reason you always felt a little dirty and gross whenever you had a rather sexual dream about him or found yourself envisioning him whenever you touched yourself. But even if you were his friend and employee, you were only female and George was insanely hot so you always forgave yourself for it rather quickly.

The drinks really did work a wonder on you as by the time you reached the villa your body coursed with an free spirited buzz. It was a buzz that meant you hadn’t realised that any time whatsoever had passed even if it took a solid 25 minutes to get back to the impressively large abode overlooking the beautiful Aegean Sea. It was also a buzz that meant that you only felt happiness and joy and not any of those horrible other emotions people usually felt when they got a little too close to drunk rather than simply tipsy. Independently you strolled through the door after George. You thought you would head straight to your room and give him the space he was probably seeking when he decided to leave the club. But George gently said your name and asked if you wanted another drink, if you would have another drink with him. You accepted, without so much as a second thought.

George poured the pair of you two glasses of wine. You watched as the deep, dark crimson liquid flowed quickly from the bottle and swirled around as it filled two thin glistening glasses. He simply motioned toward the patio beyond the open doors behind you as he carried your glass for you. You took a second to think how lucky any girl would be who ended up with George. He was a gentleman with slightly old fashioned values. He always held open a door for a woman, offered his hand if needed or his arm if there were a pair of high heels involved, and he never let a girl carry anything. So right now, as he carried your glass outside for you, you felt a little high rush through you and allowed yourself to think of what it would be like if it were YOU that were his. The weight of the cushioned patio sofa dipped beside you after you sat down and it immediately brought you out of your trance.

The conversation was always easy. There was never a second it didn’t flow and it was never, ever forced. You knew everything there really was to know about one and other and so it was so comfortable and easy to talk to him. You took a sip from the emptying wine glass and realised George’s head was turned and his eyes were staring straight at you.

“What?” You whispered and he had that naughty glint in his eye that he had earlier when that Spanish guy asked if you had a girlfriend. “Why haven’t you found the right guy?” He asked it so plainly. It was exactly what you had said back in that bar. “That was what you said, you haven’t found the right guy.” You knew what you said. You didn’t need it repeating to you. Not by one of your closest friends that you happen to be having regular smutty thoughts about. “I don’t know….just haven’t.” You shrugged. Trying to muster up a little bit of sass as you did so so he didn’t see how awkward the question had made you.

“Well….what you look for?” You hadn’t thought the conversation was going anywhere specific but certainly not in the direction it currently was where George was offering to be a one man dating app. You sensed he would keep pressing the idea of you spilling what it was you wanted in a guy until you gave in, either tonight or at some point in the near future. So with the alcohol running through you you decided now wasn’t the time to put up a fight.

“Well….” You took a big inhale as if it were going to save you from the situation of explaining your ideal guy to, well, your ideal guy. “He has to be smart. Someone I can hold a conversation with. And I’d want someone who can make me laugh. Who makes boring, mundane things fun and enjoyable. And obviously a guy who is big on family and naturally wants his own someday. But also someone that makes me feel at ease and relaxed around them. Who makes me feel supported and as if I can take on the whole world.” You had started off by being generic and then as you went on and turned your head to look into those fucking soul boring eyes he had, you began tailoring it more and more to what you could say about him himself. George was every single one of the things you had described and it really was utterly stupid that you were somewhat ousting yourself in such a needy fashion. “But….physically, would be tall, dark and handsome. Strong but not too strong. Well groomed, maintained. Smouldering, simmering eyes like Idris Elba. And I guess, what girl wouldn’t want a guy with a big dick?” You laughed and George did too, but ducked his head down so you didn’t quite see it.

When George finally looked up at you you felt the strange shift in the atmosphere. It went from lighthearted and merry to sort of tense in a millisecond. Nervously, just for something to do you placed your glass on the coffee table right next to his. Had you overstepped a line? You’d talked about guys with him before, specific guys, and this had never happened. The burning need to find out if you had gone too far had you turning your body so you were angled more toward him and opening your mouth to apologise. When without a single shred of warning, warm, slick lips were on yours. George’s lips were on yours.

It took you a few seconds for your brain to catch up but when it did you immediately began kissing him back. You had thought about this moment so frequently that it truly felt rather impossible it was actually happening. And now, as his tongue swiped along your lower lip and his hand found the back of your head, you let a tiny small moan of appreciation rumble through your vocal cords. As you gave permission for George’s tongue to enter your mouth and caress your own he began to lean into you. An action that resulted in you slowly falling against the sofa pillows behind with George baring down on top of you. It was everything you had been wanting for the past few months and it dawned on you that perhaps you were right in your assumptions George wanted you too. You were so lost in thought that when he stopped kissing you momentarily you almost didn’t open your eyes.

“When you told Fernando you hadn’t found the right man, did you mean it?” “No.” You answered immediately. “I’ve known you were the right man when we first met as children. I just, didn’t think you would want me.” Your chest was heaving from either the kiss or the declaration you were making and you knew your eyes had to have been looking up at him full of expectation and longing.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen. Of course, I fucking want you. I’ll never stop wanting you.” And then he kissed you again. It was all you had wanted to hear. The looks, the touches, the burning and feelings weren’t in your head at all. But in the moment all you could focus on what his mouth, his tongue, his taste. Your brain blocked out everything else so it was all about George’s kiss. Allowing you to finally enjoy what you had been longing for for so long.

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russellrustles · 2 years

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Birthday Blues - g. russell

a/n: this is purely a self-indulgent fic for my own birthday

warnings: none really, kind of a tiny bit sad at the start but there’s a happy ending

word count: 1.4k

summary: even though you know that your assumption is unrealistic, you can’t help but wonder if George has forgotten about your birthday. Yet, unbeknownst to you, he always has a plan up his sleeve.

masterlist

--------------------

A plain, white ceiling is not the most interesting thing to stare at.

A plain, white ceiling is in fact a rather mundane thing in itself, but its prosaic simplicity allows you to focus on what you’re thinking rather than what you’re seeing.

Another year gone by, another 365 days worth of memories, ranging from exhilarating to romantic to, on the worse days, disheartening. Yet, a singular constant throughout all the days - good or bad, joyful or tearful - has always been George.

You smile slightly to yourself as you hear his soft snores filling the room and turn onto your side to see him sleeping oh so peacefully, obviously comfortable and cosy after having hogged the entire duvet in his sleep. Seeing him all wrapped up and warm suddenly makes you realise that you are in fact feeling rather chilly, so you shuffle closer to him, sliding under the duvet and wrapping your arms around him.

After a slight delay, he groans quietly, slowly grabbing your arm to stop you from moving your hand up and down his bare back. “Your hands are freezing,” he complains, holding both of them in his own but still refusing to open his eyes.

“Maybe if you hadn’t stolen the duvet then I wouldn’t be on the verge of having hypothermia right now,” you whisper, closing your own eyes and sighing contentedly as you feel heat seeping back into your limbs. Mornings like these are your favourite: languid, lazy and slow - no rushing around or frantically getting dressed in the dark in an attempt to not be late to work or some event.

“Yeah, yeah,” George mumbles in response, pulling you closer to him in an attempt to appease your disgruntled self, “is this better?”

Replying with a happy hum, you snuggle closer to him before drifting back to your thoughts - more specifically your plans for today. Despite it being your so-called special day, you haven’t really planned anything for it. In the past few years, many of yours and George’s mutual friends have moved abroad or become overwhelmingly busy with their own jobs and projects, often to the extent at which organising a big meet-up is a harrowingly complicated experience.

Instead, you have the intention of just making today a peaceful day. In fact, a light brunch date followed by a leisurely stroll through a park with George seems really appealing at this moment in time.

“George, darling, I was thinking that today we could-“

“Shush, go back to sleep, love. We can have a chat about it later,” he grumbles, cutting you off mid-sentence. In response to the petty huff of protest that you give out he runs his hand through your hair, playing with it and giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Well that didn’t go as planned.

----------

Even after the two of you have had breakfast, no mentions of birthdays or plans have been brought up by George. You find it rather suspicious, really - throughout all the previous years that you’ve known each other, he has always been the first to send birthday wishes or organise an outing. Surely he couldn’t have just forgotten the date out of the blue, especially seeing as you find him to be the sort of guy that would write people’s birthdays down in a calendar.

It doesn’t terribly bother you, though - or at least you don’t allow it to do so - you just wish that George would finally allow you to suggest a plan for today. He’s been quick to cut off any of your ideas, whilst not revealing any of his own.

Sitting on the sofa with your legs sprawled over his lap, you decide that it’s time for one last attempt, “Georgie, can we at least do something nice today? I’d quite like to get out of the house for my-“

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going out with Alex and Lando tonight,” he cuts you off once again, gently stroking your thigh as a comforting gesture.

“You’re- what? You couldn’t have told me that they’re in the area earlier? I could have organised something nice for today,” you ramble, beginning to feel the heavy weight of disappointment in your chest. Not only does he seem oblivious to the fact that it’s your birthday, but he’s also going off and spending it with seemingly everyone but you.

“Oh, come on, you’re going with me,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

His mixed signals today are even worse than when you had tried dropping subtle hints to him before you had started dating and, by God, did it take him months to figure those out.

You spend the majority of the day after that lazing around on the sofa, only occasionally getting up to find the remote or grab a controller for the video game console. After a while though, George seems to get rather handsy, constantly grabbing at your thighs or wrapping an arm around your waist. You pass it off as him just being restless and decide to reciprocate, delicately stroking your fingers along his hands and arms whenever he has them on you. However, this only keeps him satisfied for a few minutes, until eventually he pushes you onto your back and lays down with his head on your chest.

You play with his hair for a few minutes, before giggling, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting the princess treatment today, seeing as it’s my-“

He shuts you up by kissing you on the lips, gently cradling your cheek in his palm. “You’ll get it, don’t you worry,” he whispers, “Now come on, we’re going to be late to meet the others.”

Feeling a mixture of confusion and dejection brewing within you, you just cede and decide to go along with whatever he’s got planned.

----------

“Are we nearly there yet?” you ask, with your head resting against the car window and your hand held tightly by George’s.

“Nearly, nearly. Be patient, my love,” he laughs, refusing to shift his focus off the road in front of him, even when you pout petulantly.

“I think it would be very helpful if you would tell me where we’re meeting everybody,” you say sarcastically, only to be met with another chuckle from George.

“Look, I know that I’ve definitely been getting on your nerves today,” he admits, “but I think this will make you quite happy.”

Aha - so he hasn't actually forgotten.

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the door for you and helps you out once he’s parked the car outside a classy-looking restaurant. With a hand on your lower back, he guides you straight towards the outdoor tables, fully confident as to where he’s heading despite your slight hesitancy and uncertainty in such an environment. Despite having been together for so long, a part of you just can’t really get used to showing up in all these high-end locations for a casual outing.

The two of you weave between tables and around restaurant staff and guests until you spot Lando and Alex at a table, and with them Lily, and some of your other friends, and your sister…

“Georgie, what’s everyone doing here? I thought you said it was just the guys?” you whisper to him as you approach the table, slightly taken aback by the unexpectedly large number of people that you’re suddenly facing. They greet you with a cheer and wide smiles, shouting out birthday wishes and greetings so loudly that a few people turn from their own tables to see what’s going on.

“We decided to throw a little surprise dinner for you, darling,” he whispers back, “sorry for avoiding the topic so much this morning, I knew I’d just give this all away too early if I hadn’t.”

At this point, despite the utter bewilderment that he had caused you earlier today, you can’t even be mad at him. Finally seeing so many of your friends in one place fills you with such an overwhelming sense of pure joy that it almost threatens to spill out of you in the form of exuberant tears, and thinking about just how much effort this event must have taken to orchestrate makes your heart swell with love for your boyfriend.

“Oh, this is amazing, thank you so much,” is all you can force out in your state of shock, simply too inundated by a variety of emotions to form a more profound response.

Slowly pulling a jewellery gift box out of his pocket and tucking it into your palm, George smiles at you and replies, “Happy birthday, my love. Now how about we sit down?”

--------------------

a/n: i’ll be writing longer fics again soon! as always, thank you for reading, please do give feedback <3

TAGLIST: (read this post for more info about my taglists)

@seastarapiaries @idkiwantchocolatee @ohthemisssery @dumb-fawkin-bitch

#i feel old today #george russell #gr63 #george russell fanfiction #george russell fanfic #george russell imagine #george russel x reader #george russell x y/n #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

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theundercoversquid · 2 years

Text

Mastermind

Pairing: George Russel x Reader

Summary: You are a mastermind

Warnings:

Masterlist

The first time you saw George was at some stuffy party. And seeing him there in his suit. You knew you had to have him.

And so when the two of you happened to meet in the same room at the same time. You knew that it was no accident. You knew that you had carefully laid the groundwork. Leading to all the dominoes cascading in a line

But to the rest of the world, it seemed like chance, as if the stars had aligned.

And as you brush your hands, it lights a fuse. And the two of you get talking. And the more you talk, the more in common you realise you have. And the more you realise you like each other. And the more you realise you dont want to leave each other's company.

Eventually, the two of you head back to the main party to get a cocktail. And as the two of you sip them, you continue to chat. George ends up dragging you onto the dance floor when you finish yours. The two of you sway around. Enamoured by each other's touch. And utterly blissful to be surrounded by the other's presence.

And you have the time of your life that evening. And when you eventually have to leave, it is with a lighter heart and an extra number on your phone.

And after that evening, you and George end up seeing more of each other and falling in love.

And you were so glad that you had done it. And yes, maybe you were cryptic and Machiavellian, but that was only because you cared.

"Do you remember when we met?" you ask George. Your feet in his lap as you sit snuggled on the sofa.

"Of course I do, my love," George tells you. His hand running up and down your leg.

"None of it was accidental." You admit to George. "The first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me."

And looking up at George, you can see a wide smirk on his face and playfulness in his eyes. And that's when it hits you. He knew the entire time.

Because you may have been a Mastermind. But you were his Mastermind.

#F1 #George Russel #f1 imagine #george russell imagine #taylor swift inspired #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #george russell fanfiction #george russell x reader #george russell fanfic #Spotify #taylor swift #midnights #Imagine

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sugakookie78 · 1 year

Text

Secret, but not Private (Instagram AU)

Pairing: Group 4:

Post 1: Pierre Gasly x Reader

Post 2: George Russell x Reader

Post 3: Yuki Tsunoda x Reader

All pictures are from either Instagram, Pinterest, or Tumblr

@/pierregasly Happy birthday, chéri (french: darling)! I hope 27 treats you well. I'll see you soon. I love you!

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charles_leclerc Tell her happy birthday for me!

pierregasly Will do

user1 Charles, do you know who this is?

yukitsunoda0511 Did you get the cookies I made?

pierregasly Yes, we really liked them. Thanks!

@/georgerussell63 Vacation

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landonorris Invite me next time!

alex_albon Me too!

charles_leclerc Me three!

user1 Who is this?

user2 Does George have a secret lover?

@/yukitsunoda0511 Happy anniversary, babe. Hope you had a great night in. I love you

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pierregasly Is that my controller?

yukitsunoda0511 Um, yeah. My other one broke

pierregasly Ok, just bring it back as soon as possible

user1 Yuki has a girlfriend? Does anyone have her @?

user2 No, it's never been shared

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly instagram au #george russell #george russell x reader #george russell fanfiction #george russell instagram au #yuki tsunoda #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda fanfiction #yuki tsunoda instagram au #f1 imagines #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au

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mxstellatayte · 3 months

Note

can we do george and action 2? love u bestie <3

i definitely can! love u 2 pookie <3

you laugh, your arms full of so much fabric and fluff. george had initially been iffy about making a blanket fort, but after clasping your hands and whining out a gentle "pleeeeease," he caved. how could he say no to you?

so here you were, taking apart your couch and piling up every single blanket you own with your boyfriend. yep. this is a completely normal thing to do as fully grown adults with careers and lives.

blankets are being slung everywhere, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and eventually you've built a nest inside the blanket fort, couch cushions and pillows pulled from every corner of the apartment to create the comfiest thing you've ever experienced. when you finally flop down, a small basket with snacks and a couple of sodas next to you, you sigh with relief. "done."

"you comfy in there, baby?" george's voice sounds from outside of the fort.

"absolutely. wanna join me?"

"yeah. gimme one minute, i'm just making some popcorn. and before you ask, yes, i'm making it with butter, salt, and pepper." you squeal with delight as you shuffle under your favorite blanket, making sure you have the tv remote clutched in your hand so as not to lose it in the mountain of fabric that surrounds you. a few minutes later, a pair of socked feet appear at the opening of the blanket fort, and when he crouches down, you beam. "here you go, love."

"thank you, george," you say, kissing him softly when he crawls up to you, taking his place to your right. "have i ever told you that i love you?"

"a few times, but i'd love to hear it again," he smirks, and you roll your eyes.

"well, guess what. i love you, george russell."

"i love you, too, soon-to-be mrs. russell." his large hand takes your own, still clutching the tv remote, and kisses the smoky diamond ring that adorns your finger, and your heart feels like it might burst with love and admiration. "have you picked out a movie yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

after sifting through your options, you eventually decide on the adam project, but if someone quizzed you on how the movie ended, you would have no idea what to tell them, as before the first hour of the movie passes, you've both fallen asleep inside your cave of safety and love.

#mxstellatayte #stella mini writez #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula 1 x female reader #f1 x female reader #george russell #george russell fluff #george russell fanfiction #george russell x reader #george russell x female reader #driver: gr63.

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itsfeckinwimdy · 2 years

Text

George Russell is the type of guy-

(Fluff Alphabet)

George Russell x Reader

Reader Pronouns: n/a

Word count: 1.9k (1994 words)

Tree Speaks: I got dared to start every section with "George Russell is the type of guy-" and to only refer to him as "George Russell" so I'm dreadfully sorry for what you are about to read.

and jesus fucking christ you lot, you ate up the last grussell post- anyways, more grussell content to come, and possibly more Norris, Lewis and Seb, depending on what the people want. Also, do you want another one of these for a different driver?

F1 Masterlist

Published: 14/01/2023

A = Attention (How much attention do they pay to you? And how much attention do they require?)

George Russell is the type of guy who is constantly paying attention to everything that you do. He is enamoured with you and thus finds himself watching everything you do.

On the other hand, he's like a golden retriever. He needs to know that your watching what he does and paying attention to him every time you're in the same room or in close vicinity. He craves your attention and gets really proud when he sees you watching him.

B = Before (What were they like before they asked you out?)

George Russell was the type of guy who was stressing over everything before he eventually asked you out. Sitting reasonably close to you, his heart started racing and he had to carefully plan his every movement to not make you feel uncomfortable. You grab and hold his hand? Play it cool George Russell, play it cool, this is what normal people do, don't make it weird. It even got to the point where he would get stuck in his own head and wouldn't even realise you were speaking to him.

C = Comfort (How would they help their partner when they feel down/have a panic attack? Etc.)

George Russell is the type of guy who gives the best hugs. Yes, he looks like a toothpick in his outfits, but the boy has muscle and some squish to his beanpole self. Will he check you're okay with being hugged? Absolutely. Will he undoubtedly pull you into his arms when he senses your upset? Of fucking course he will. No crying whilst he's around, Mr Satudray will not allow it. Unless of course you genuinely need a good cry over something then he is sitting right next to you handing you tissue after tissue.

D = Dreams (Do they picture their future with you? If so, is there anything specific they want?)

George Russell is the type of guy who knows exactly what he wants in his future. Does he know it down to the minuscule detail? No, he does not. But does it include yes? Yes, it does.

He wants the mornings when he wakes up in bed next to you. He wants the late nights when the two of you are absolutely shattered but can't help but stay awake to talk to the other.

He wants it all.

E = Everything (You are my ___ e.g. my life, my world?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would call you a piece of fruit in what he would think is a romantic way.

"You are the apples to my oranges" he would say to you, even though apples and oranges are completely different and the only correlation that they have between them is that they are both fruits.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

George Russell was the type of guy who didn't realise he was in love with you until everyone else around him pointed it out. And it wasn't even that he was denying it, he was just oblivious to acknowledging his feelings.

Did he know he liked spending time with you? Yes. Did he also like all the little things about you that he would talk about for days on end without realising until someone pointed it out? Yes. But did he realise that it was called love? No.

It took at least eight different people to point out that he was in love with you before he acknowledged that maybe he loved you and from then on it was just a roller-coaster of emotions.

G = Gifts (How do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would spoil you with gifts at every opportunity.

Would they always be expensive ones? No. But he would always be on the lookout for anything that he knows you like or stuff relating to your current interests or hobbies.

And it became a habit that he would get you something from each race weekend, even if it was a terrible one for him or you were there with him.

H = holding hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

George Russell is the type of guy who either holds your hand in his fully, the whole fingers interlocked and a moderately strong grip, or he doesn't at all.

He's not one for the "cute handholding" where couples link their pinkie fingers and say it's holding hands. It's either all or nothing.

I = Injury (How would they act if you got hurt?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would go insane or would laugh at you. You stubbed your toe on the doorframe, and he's bent over in laughter. But you get in a crash or break a bone and he is hell-bent on destroying whatever hurt you.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they show it?)

George Russell is the type of guy who gets jealous on occasion. If you're friends with other drivers then he doesn't care. But if they start flirting with you and you're seemingly oblivious to their attempts, then comes the clinginess.

K = Kiss (Do they exchange kisses often? Where do they like to kiss?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would constantly be giving you forehead kisses, or just kiss the top of your head if he can't access your face.

L = love confession (How would they confess their feelings?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would be oblivious of his feelings but everyone around would know. Since becoming teammates with him, Lewis hasn't spent a day without hearing something about you or what you're up to. Even Toto has heard many compliments about you from George, so much in fact that one day he asked the driver how his partner was only for George to be confused until realising the team principal meant.

This then led to him spiralling whilst creating a PowerPoint presentation on why he loves you.

M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

George Russell is the type of guy to have his favourite memory of you doing something so simple, like the time you rearranged your bookshelf and paused to read him a quote you found funny and then explain the entire backstory and plot behind it.

N = Nicknames (What do they call their partner?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would use endearingly sweet but stereotypical British nicknames for you. Ranging from the doting "Sweetheart," to the classic "Darling", to the obvious but most important "Love" used excessively.

O = On Cloud nine (What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?)

George Russell is the type of guy who will not shut up about you. Before he came to the realisation that he was in love with you, Lewis, Toto, and essentially the entire Mercedes garage, and some of the Williams one, knew practically everything about you as he would not stop talking. So yes, everyone knew he was in love with you.

When it comes to expressing his feelings, George Russell will not stop until you are sick of hearing the phrase "I love you" and threaten to tape his mouth shut.

P = PDA (Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their S/O in front of others? Or are they shy to kiss/hug when others are watching? Etc.)

George Russell is the type of guy who will kiss you in front of everyone and not care. To him, everyone knew that he was in love with you before he did, so what's to harm. However, he does prefer to hold your hand at every opportunity given. And even though he sometimes looks like a bean pole, his hugs are so soft that you have actually fallen asleep in his arms before.

Q = Quality time (How do they like to spend time with you?)

George Russell is the type of guy who just likes spending time with you. Whether that's the two of you watching a movie together, going for a walk at sunset, or even sitting doing your own things in the same room. George Russell just likes to be near you.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

George Russell is the type of guy who, providing neither of you has to leave for work, will refuse to unravel from you and keep you bed-bound all day. Could the two of you be doing something productive? yes, you could. But to George Russell, rainy days are the best for sleeping in and cuddling under the warmth of the duvet.

S = Smile (What makes them smile without fail?)

George Russell is the type of guy who just thinking about you brings a smile to his face.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

George Russell is the type of guy who will talk about anything and everything. It doesn't matter what the topic is, but get him started on something he knows even the smallest bit about, then you will never get him to be quiet again.

U = Understanding (How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

George Russell is the type of guy who knows you so well and how to offer comfort. He's been your friend for years. If there's one thing he knows how to do, then it's comfort you when you're upset.

V = Valuable (How much do they spend on their partner? Do they choose to spoil them with expensive stuff? Etc.)

George Russell is the type of guy who would collect a souvenir from each race he attends to gift you, even if you are there with him. He used to get you expensive stuff quite a lot until he realised how much you would cherish the smaller less valuable gifts. A fridge magnet of your favourite plant was one of your favourite gifts which in turn sparked the realisation in him. But that's not to say he doesn't get you something expensive occasionally.

W = Wild Card (Random headcanon?)

George Russell is the type of guy who would second guess every message he sends you until you reply back to him. At first, he's like, yep, that's alright, and then after about thirty seconds he begins panicking and wondering what your response is going to be. It doesn't matter what message he's sent you, whether it's asking if you're still awake, or a simple 'I love you', he cannot rest until he gets a reply.

X = XOXO (Are they very affectionate?)

George Russell is the type of guy who will not stop showering you with affection. He's constantly giving you compliments, pulling you into his arms so he can hold you and peppering your face with sweet kisses. It took him a good while to work out that he loved you and now he's going to make sure that you're aware of it.

Y = Yearning (How will they cope when they're missing their partner?)

George Russell is the type of guy who will not stop mentioning how much he misses you. He messages you whenever he can and it's gotten to the point that Toto dreads the weekends that you're not there as it means he has to listen to George Russell talk about how much he misses you.

Z = ZZzzzz (How heavy of a sleeper are they? How do they sleep?)

George Russell is the type of guy that trying to rouse him from sleep is akin to waking the dead. This man hears nothing except his alarm. You try to wake him up, zilch. But he hears his alarm go off, and he is awake instantly. He sleeps like the dead but must have you wrapped in his arms. He is a cuddler.

#george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell fanfic #george russell fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #fic: alphabet #pronouns: n/a #pronouns: they/them #tree writes f1 fics

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nonstoplover · 2 years

Text

a roadtrip with bubbling feelings ~ george russell (gr63)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: george russell x best friend!reader

words: 4K

summary: just two best friends on a roadtrip, with unknown feelings bubbling under the surface. will they arise?

warnings: nothing but a fluffy drabble, somewhat slowburn but since it's just a 4K fic it's nothing too much

a/n: i've been listening to this playlist on spotify called "roadtripping with george russell" (by @ lynndehaas) because i was in my gr63 feels and why not, and tbh with each passing song i just got more and more inspired to write something. it took me like a month to finish it as my exchange semester has started and adjusting to life in a new country is a lot, but here we go. hopefully it's not too rushed. also, my first ever gr63 x reader! since i was a george girlie when i first joined the f1 fandom, it was inevitable that i will write something for him. it was just a matter of time.

reader, please don't be a ghost, all feedback is well appreaciated, rb or comment!

taglist: formulapierre

"Why am I not surprised that even when we're going on vacation you decide you want to keep doing your job?"

George glances at her for a second with an eyebrow raised, clearly not getting what she means exactly. She giggles, watching his profile as he turns his head back to watch the road ahead of them. "What do you mean?" he asks when she still doesn't elaborate.

"That you're driving," (y/n) shakes her head, concentrating on opening the package of candy in her hands, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her lips. "Your job is to drive a car, and when you go on holiday you still want to keep doing it."

"You've been saying that you want to go on a roadtrip with me for ages!" George replies defensively, voice getting a bit higher in the process – also a bit louder as the sound of the bag getting ripped open in her hands fills the air of the car.

"Yes, but this time you suggested it."

Her shoulders move in a shrug before she holds the now open package closer to his face, making sure it unmistakably enters his field of vision. He raises a hand and digs in to grab a handful of the sweets. "This is what you get for trying to be nice for once," he murmurs under his breath.

For a couple seconds they enjoy the sudden sugary taste fill their mouths in silence before he speaks up again. "Anyway, this is totally different than driving a race car."

"I know, but it's still driving." Her tone is as if she's stating something obvious, as if she's saying I don't make the rules.

George groans in exasperation, momentarily throwing a hand in the air at her inconvincible mind.

"But you know what? You can separate the two types of driving perfectly, I give you that," she taps the pad of her pointer finger against her jawline in mock thinking.

"Thank you," he shakes his head at her antics.

Before she can say anything else – and possibly continue on with her teasing –, he reaches out and turns the volume louder. Taylor Swift's voice fills the space but he can still hear the sudden laughter that bubbles out of (y/n), and as his heart skips a beat, he spares a glance at the girl.

Her head is thrown back against the headrest and her left hand just raises in the air, only to land on her thigh just a moment later as she keeps laughing. It's the cutest sight he's ever seen.

"You tryna drown me out?" she asks when her laughter died down into a much less audible giggle. "What, am I bothering you?

"Oh, no, you'd never," he replies with pure sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Good, 'cause I just wanted to apply at Mercedes to be your race engineer."

The look he gives her brings out that pervading laugh again, especially the speed in which his head moves towards her. "Careful, you don't want to snap your neck," she warns him lightly, her own words only fuelling her laughter.

"You're joking, right?" George asks.

"Why, can't focus on driving if I'm talking?"

"Yeah." It's true, just not for the reason you think it is, he thinks.

"What a shame, I think we'd make a great pair," the girl says dreamily, looking out the window at the scenery sweeping by, her lips still curved into a joyous smile.

Does she purposely keep on saying stuff like this?

George has to concentrate on Taylor Swift's words coming from the speakers especially hard to stop the thoughts coming to his head, as made-up pictures of a very different meaning to a great pair are filling up his mind.

"Boys only want love if it's torture..." (y/n) first mumbles along with the song, then when the line is repeated for the second time, she sings it at the top of her lungs.

Well, this definitely feels like torture to be fair, Georgemakes a mental note.Still, he can't stop himself from joining in to the last chorus, belting out the words he knows so well. Being best friends with (y/n) for such a long time just had this effect on him. Her approving eyes land on his profile again, and when he feels her gaze on him and turns his own towards her, she has to look away, desperately trying to hide the blush that has formed on her face.

At least two packages of candy and multiple songs later – all of which they sang together – they decide it's time to grab lunch, not even the considerable amount of candy they ate could make their hunger disappear, both of them being well known for having great appetite.

Rolling closer to the fast food restaurant they picked, George suggests they get their meals at the drive-through, not being in the mood to be amongst other people. This holiday was meant to be him and (y/n), and the two of them only. They rarely have time to be alone like they used to, and he misses those times dearly.

Of course this leads to another string of teasing from the girl's side, but as she snickers away at her newest comment on how he seemingly can't leave his precious car and has grown roots in it, he sends a (playful but still stern enough) glare her way that makes her bite on the inside of her cheek and shut up.

Momentarily.

But lucky for him she stops her teasing even when she starts speaking again, instead switching to another topic – though not so different as she asks him about Formula One. "Do you know anything new about Daniel yet?"

George sighs, getting reminded of the uncertain fate of his fellow driver and friend. "No, nothing. Haven't really had the chance to talk more with him lately."

Taking a small piece of her french fries in her mouth (y/n) stares out of the car deep in thought, worry creasing on her forehead. She's been fond of the older guy since the first day they met, George introducing the two the day he first took her to one of his F1 races. Daniel's truly dazzling smile that showcases possibly all his pearly white teeth and his bubbly personality with jokes cracked all the time never failed to make all her troubles disappear immediately. He's become the brother she never had and it broke her heart to see him without a seat for the next season.

Munching on the delicious food she shakes her head, trying to let go of these thoughts. Now is not the time to dwell on them. She's here to spend time with her best friend, and her thinking about Daniel's future won't solve the man's problem anyway, so she forces herself to be a hundred percent present, right in the moment with George.

"Well, spill the tea if there's anything going on now. You know I live for the good old F1 drama," she nuzzles his arm that's resting on his lap with her elbow.

George lets out a chuckle, eagerly jumping into the new topic offered by her, not wanting the thought of his friend's sad story to ruin his mood for the rest of the day.

Ever since they first made friends, she's been the first (and to be honest only) person he'd tell all the juicy stories to, the one who always filled him in with the newest rumours going around the fandom, the one with whom he discussed everything about his competitors. It soon became tradition, and now there was nothing that could change it – but it's not like either of them would ever really want to.

This time isn't different, and he fills her in with every new information he has, the conversation continuing for a long time, even when they've long left the parking lot behind, their stomachs now full and moods completely back to the usual joyfulness.

"I like this playlist," George hums along to the song that's playing, leaning back against the seat and getting comfortable.

They've just stopped to change seats, her finally being able to convince him to let her drive for a while. (That's basically the point of roadtripping, switching who's the driver, she argued.) His fingers mindlessly scroll on the phone connected to the speakers – hers –, trying to find the song he loved the most by far, only by its title. It's been playing a couple songs earlier and he still has the melody along with a few words in his head – and it's safe to say he loves a challenge. There's no way he will use Google or the knowledge of his best friend to find the song.

"I know, I created it," comes her reply, cheeky but true. Her music taste, while being a bit all over the place, has always been immaculate. She's introduced him to many songs that later became his favourites.

All of a sudden he triumphantly cries out having found the song, and immediately taps his finger against the title so it starts playing again. (y/n) lets out a reprehensive hey as the song she's been singing along to stops out of nowhere and different sounds fill the car, but George only shrugs, feeling pride curve his lips into a smile as that song starts playing.

He found it by the title only, without any help.

"Remember that video with the music challenge or whatever that was?" he asks her just as suddenly as the previous song change was, his upper body turning a bit in his seat to be able to look at her more properly.

He couldn't help it, the way he found the song made him think about that one time.

She ponders for a second before her eyes light up with recollection. "Back in your rookie year with Alex and Lando?"

"Yep, that's the one."

"Of course, how could I forget? The absolute shock on both their faces by how many songs you recognised is something I will always remember." She has to giggle to herself just thinking about it.

"I think I only didn't get two. Maybe three," George tries to remember back, his eyes looking at the view ahead but not seeing it – he's too focused on that far-away memory, replaying those scenes in his mind.

"Three. Lando was the first to recognise two and Alex only one, all the others were you."

"Yeah," he chuckles at the memory. "All that is thanks to you, by the way."

(y/n) grins, not taking her eyes off the back of the car going just in front of them. "Really?"

"You and your excessive playlists."

And the fact that he often listens to them even when he's on his own, travelling around the world without her being able to follow him – just because he misses her. Listening to the songs she chose always helps with the pain missing her causes in him.

"Well, what can I say? They are perfect."

Her skin prickles as she feels his eyes move to her face, and for a second she dares to reciprocate the glance – immediately regretting her decision as she takes in his stunning smile he flashes her way. Swiftly turning her gaze back to the front she concentrates on driving again, noticing that in her looking, she's moved the steering wheel enough to make the car slowly going outside the lane.

She corrects with a quick wrist movement, resulting in a fit of loud laughter erupting from George's throat as he spots the correction.

"The playlists might be perfect, but your driving clearly isn't," he teases.

"Shut up, I'm a pretty great driver, and you know that," (y/n) retorts instantly, without missing a beat. "You just distracted me."

"I'm distracting for you?"

He's smirking, she doesn't have to look to know that. She can hear it in the tone of his voice.

"Let me remind you that only a couple hours ago you were the one finding me distracting," she blesses her quick thinking for coming up with this response, because otherwise the chance of him noticing the furious blush on her cheeks would've been too high for her liking.

"Okay, true," George admits. Propping his elbow up by the window he leans his head in his palm in search of support, watching her shamelessly, admiring her.

"Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away..." the girl sings along happily to the One Direction song. "Couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one 'cause she belongs to me."

"Actually I do think that you are quite a decent driver," he speaks up just to make himself stop thinking about how those lyrics are pretty relatable as well. What's up with almost all the songs they've listened to today?

He definitely feels like everybody wants to steal his girl – except she's not that. He simply wishes that she belonged to him.

"Decent?!"

He has to laugh at the incredulous voice leaving her. He knew it was coming.

"I expected at least a highly gifted," she continues in disbelief as his loud sounds of joy enter her ears above the five boys singing through the speakers.

"Highly gifted," he just has to repeat her words, laughing so hard at this point that he has to bend over, clutching at his sides to ease the pain starting there.

"Stop laughing and appreciate my driving," (y/n) scolds him with a frown on her forehead – but with a giggle almost escaping her lips and breaking the facade.

"Sorry," George tries, but he's hardly capable of doing as she's told. Short bursts of chuckles leave him, quieter and less crazy than his previous laughter, but still obviously there.

The girl waits patiently – sooner or later he has to stop. She can wait.

Only a couple minutes later he's finally able to speak up again. "You're an awesome driver, (y/n/n)." She's just about to answer with a half-ironic thank you, her lips already opening when he continues. "To be honest, you might be better in road driving than me."

She stays like that, with her mouth hanging slightly open and her eyes widening. His tone sounded entirely genuine, with all joking pushed to the side. And she didn't expect such a compliment.

"Thank you," she manages in the end, cheeks now clearly burning bright red.

George smiles, his glance moving back to its previous position, staring at her profile.

"It means a lot coming from you," his best friend talks again, stopping for a short second before adding, "Mr Professional Driver."

He rolls his eyes playfully at her words, knowing her techniques all too well. She always uses jokes and lighthearted comments when she feels flustered and somewhat self-conscious. He can read her like an open book, having been studying her for so long – and basically pining after her.

"I mean, it'd be only fair. You're better at driving on race tracks at like 300 kph, and I'm better at driving on regular roads with regular speed. We both get something," she goes on with her unique explanation, performing a shrug at the end of sentence and fighting the urge to shoot him a look – she doesn't want a repetition of the previous instance. She knows she would never hear the end of it.

And he would take his compliment back – with actually good reason to do so. Not a chance she'd risk that.

George hums in response, agreeing with her words, though he has to admit that he's not fully paying attention anymore. It's just the usual, he always reaches this point when they spend time together. She really is too distracting for him.

(y/n) brings him back to the present when she wiggles a hand in front of him, trying to gain his attention. "Can you give me some candies? I'm dying for the sweetness," she says all bubbly with happiness, somewhere between being serious and sarcastic.

He reaches into the tote bag resting next to his feet to pull out a new package, groaning when his eyes land on his favourite type of candy.

"What?"

"I can't eat more. Aleix would kill me," George whines. "But these are my favourites."

"Well, shame on you," the girl moves her fingers once more, growing impatient. "I'll eat anyway."

With a sigh, he opens the packet and holds it out for her so she can help herself to some. A wide grin appears on her face as she places the first piece on her tongue. "Oh wow, this is good," she comments, enjoying the pleasure twice as much as she'd normally do just because she knows that it's the perfect teasing for the boy.

"Shut up."

She can't help but let out a sigh of delight – almost moan-like, which makes it very hard for him to sit still for a short moment –, joyously humming along to the song playing in the background whilst chewing.

George is glaring daggers at her at this point, leaving her giggling as she sees him stare at her from the corner of her eye before stopping her sweet torture on him.

A couple hours later they come by a viewpoint and decide to stop, though neither of them moves to get out of the car. The air is getting quite chilly as the sun is starting to set, and the seats of his car are actually real comfortable. They lean back, enjoying the little piece of rest and stillness, with the music still gently playing in the background.

That's when 'I Was Made For Loving You' starts playing and it becomes too much for George to bear. All these songs he can relate to – did she choose these on purpose? Was it just a coincidence? It doesn't matter anymore, because his heart is fluttering, and he's unable to tear his eyes off of her. All because of a song. He can't even find it himself to care anymore when she notices him staring and looks right back into his eyes.

"I was made for loving you, baby, you were made for loving me. And I can't get enough of you, baby, can you get enough of me?..." the singer's voice comes through the speakers.

"Stop looking at me like that," (y/n) speaks up, her eyes momentarily darting away from him in embarrassment. She can just feel the blush creeping up on her neck to her cheeks from his intense gaze. All of a sudden being enclosed with him in such a small space feels suffocating, almost too much for her to bear – she kind of wishes it would just stop.

"Like what?" George asks back, not stopping his gazing for even a short second. It would be impossible.

"Like you're doing right now."

The girl lets out a small giggle, and his heart by the feels of it does a somersault inside his chest.

"I can't help it." And he really can't, just as much as he can't help himself from keeping on speaking the words that lead him to confessing parts of his mind. "You're just too beautiful, it would be a shame to stop looking at you."

Her eyes slightly widen, though she tries to hide it, biting into the inside of her cheeks to somewhat control the crazy grin her lips are threatening to curve into. It's not like he's never complimented her before, it's just that with his intense gaze it feels totally different.

"I mean, you can continue looking at me if you want to, but at least stop doing it so... absorbedly," she mumbles eventually.

"I love you, (y/n/n)," he blurts out, completely out of nowhere.

Jesus Christ, George, why did you say that?!, he mentally scolds himself right away. Did it really just take one song for years and years of play pretend to crumble?

Her cautious glance moves back up on his face, trying to let the way her heart skipped a beat subside. They say these three words to each other all the time, but something in his tone, urgent and shaky made it seem different this time. Or maybe it's just that she's become far too hopeful yet again.

For a second George contemplates pretending he only meant it as a best friend as he's always done in the past years, but for some reason he just can't. He can't make himself say those words. Not anymore.

"I love you, more than a friend," he says instead, so quietly that the instrumental break of the song nearly drowns out his voice, those bright green eyes of his staring intently at his intertwined fingers laying on his lap.

A soft gasp leaves her lips, making him glance up at her, trying to read her expression. Did she gasp because she doesn't feel the same way and he's just ruined everything? Or did she gasp because she feels the same way? George can't help but be hopeful it's the latter.

"Is this a joke?" (y/n) asks back, quietly, similarly to him.

Please, let this be a joke. If it isn't, I'm going to combust and burn to ashes or melt away into a puddle right here and now, she thinks. She's been desperately wanting to hear these words come from his lips for so many years, since they were teenagers, and yet they never came. She's learnt to push her feelings aside, and suddenly she's not sure she would be able to function properly if he truly meant what he said. It's been too long playing pretend, she forgot how to act without that.

"No, it's not," comes George's reply, his voice now sounding more sure. Finally having those words out of his head, his chest brings him such a relief he hasn't experienced in a long, long time. "I've been in love with you since we were seventeen."

He figures if he's already confessed this much, it wouldn't do much more harm to admit a couple more information to her too.

(y/n) chuckles, half in disbelief and half in pure joy. "Well I guess I won then," she says, watching as his eyes turn confused.

"What do you mean?"

"That I have been in love with you since we were fifteen."

She giggles again, suddenly almost delirious with happiness. He's in love with her!

A noise similar to a choked chuckle bubbles from his throat, a different sparkle shining up in his gorgeous orbs. "You have?"

"Yeah."

They burst out laughing at the same time, taken aback by their own stupidity.

"How could we have been so oblivious then?" George asks when they quieten down again.

"I guess we're both pretty good actors," the girl shrugs, biting her bottom lip to try and stop the crazy grin from erupting on her face.

"Yeah, it seems like we are."

They sit there, half turned in their seats just gazing at each other, finally not having to bottle their feelings anymore and being able to stare with as much adoration as they'd want to.

"Will you kiss me, or should I just take the lead now?" (y/n) asks about a minute later, tone teasing and joyous.

George shakes his head in playful disbelief, mumbling something about her being insufferably impatient, but nevertheless he starts leaning in, not a single ounce of doubt in his movements. She moves involuntarily closer – she's been wondering how his lips on hers would feel like for too long to care now.

Right before their lips fully touch, just as she can feel the skin of his mouth softly brush against her, the breath escaping his nose moving atop her cheeks leaving goosebumps in their wake, he stops moving altogether. She opens her lips to protest – trying hard not to let the feeling of their now constant skin-to-skin contact divert her mind –, but before she can let any words out, he whispers into the quiet in-between them.

"God, I've been waiting for this for so long."

And then with one simple and fast movement, he's captured her lips with his own, mesmerized with the feeling, the scent, the taste he's been only dreaming of for what feels like forever.

Maybe being enclosed with George in such a small space isn't bad and suffocating at all.

.::the end::.

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

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