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userlando · 2 years ago

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a different light — max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader [6.9k] summary: you weren’t just friends. friends didn’t touch you the way he did (or the one where max has an epiphany and realizes he's in love with his best friend) warnings: 18+ explicit smut, idiots in love, friends to lovers a/n: idk what it is with me and writing fics at work, but here i am again. i had SO much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading this ♡

Max hadn’t experienced many moments where he felt true and utter bliss, especially when he was growing up. His home life made it hard, and he’d rejected any type of positive feelings for a long time until you came along. You’d been a force to be reckoned with, matching Max’s energy so well that it wasn’t hard to build a solid friendship that would last for as long as it did.

He found comfort in your soft skin, in your reassuring smile. Even in the way your voice would get all high pitched when you told a white lie. You’d been his one true pillar when his career went from karting to racing, becoming a known household name in the chaos of it all. You’d kept his feet on the ground when he needed it most, and there was no amount of money to ever repay you for everything you’d done for him, and you vice versa.

So, he found comfort in a lot of things when it came to you. But you, sitting close to him when you had so many seats and chairs to choose from? That was everything.

You had claimed the two-seater for yourselves, but it didn’t stop you from snuggling right up to your best friend’s side with his arm around you and your head comfortably resting on his pectoral. It was a common occurence, you so deeply embedded in his arms that it might as well have been a permanent shape of you on his skin. Max had grown up with you, so he'd basically memorized the smell of your shampoo that you'd used since you were fifteen, the freckles and moles on your face and how goosebumps rose on your skin at the slightest cold breeze because that's who you were.

He'd naively thought it to be normal, to be so in tune with his best friend and it wasn't until he'd entered early adulthood and actually spent time with his friends on the grid that he realized that maybe it wasn't usual.

He still remembered the day he'd brought you along for the Baku Grand Prix and you'd mentioned being childhood friends in a passing conversation, registering the sheer looks of confusion coming from his friends. It had made him flush, a little embarrassed and a little confused until Daniel had hooked an arm around his shoulders and murmured I've been going around for three months thinking she was your girlfriend, man.

Max had shoved his friend and pulled a face, the usual ‘gross, she’s like a sister’ phrase on his tongue that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. But it had stuck with him for the rest of that day, and the more he thought about it, the more Daniel was probably right in thinking so.

Max couldn't pinpoint what exactly had shifted after that day, but he knew that something had changed. He became hyper aware of your touches and lingering looks, your ability to flirt but still toe the line of it being a little too inappropriate.

Sharing hotel rooms became weird, and it dawned on Max that maybe the two of you were acting a little too much like a couple when he found himself in bed with you snoring by his side, Daniel's words still haunting him like a ghost at the corner of the king sized bed.

He’d stared at your face in the dark for an hour, the street lights doing a good job of contouring your face in the dark and he’d felt a knot in his stomach when you’d shifted in your slumber and reached for something. He hadn’t realized what you looked for until you placed your hand on his arm.

Not grabbing. Just… setting it there like you needed his comfort even in your sleep. Such a simple gesture that had shook your best friend to the core.

The Aussie made it, along with Lando, his life's mission to send looks and make comments after that race weekend in Baku.

That was eight months ago, and they clearly had no intention of stopping as you sat in the backyard of Carlos' family vacation home in Palma de Mallorca, surrounded by drivers and their partners alike. You’d been there for two days, the relaxation already blanketing your group the more you spent time in the ocean and dozed in the loungers. The nights consisted of card games, drinking games and bonfires until someone had the stupid idea to go for a dip in the sea that just so happened to be in your backyard.

You'd been dozing tonight, finding it hard to stay awake with the way Max's fingers absentmindedly drew patterns up and down your drawn up legs.

The sun had clearly done its number on you during the day, draining every bit of energy you’d had. Heat and humidity always did that to you, so it wasn’t a surprise that you’d find the comfort of your best friend’s embrace the moment everyone sat down and curl up much like a cat.

The rhythm of his chest was enough to lull you into a sense of security, watching your group of friends across the table as they played Uno with the occassional accusation and shouts that came with playing the card game.

It had been Charles' idea to play it, clearly wanting to see the world burn as he put a group of competitive people into a game of Uno. It had been great entertainment though, your lips curled into a permanent amused smile as you watched on in silence.

Lando pulled a draw four card, setting it down with a grin and Carlos cursed in Spanish, clearly annoyed as he shoved the curly haired boy. A ripple of laughter tore through the group at the display, and you figured that it wasn't long before the game would dissolve into angry arguments.

"You can't beat the master of Uno." Lando said, clearly looking to agitate the Spaniard as the black haired man picked up an additional four cards to his already stacked hand.

"You've lost the last four games, mate." Charles muttered into his glass, taking a sip of his icy margarita for good measure.

"My luck is turning, mate.” Lando flipped him off, earning laughter from Pierre and George. “Get off my back."

You watched them bicker, thoughts stuttering to a halt when Max shifted beneath you. He drew the hand that had been on your legs up, ruffling your hair gently and you glanced up at him.

"Have you fallen asleep on me yet?" He asked quietly, for your ears only and you grinned sleepily, the perfect picture of comfortable.

“Not yet.” You muttered, covering your mouth as a yawn took you by surprise and Max smiled in amusement.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” He glanced up at the boys when their voices picked up volume. “Get out before this becomes massacre.”

You laughed, nodding your head in agreement and letting him pull you up. No one really noticed as you slipped away, or if they did, they didn’t question it.

The voices of your friends faded into the background the further you got away from the house, grass and gravel transformed into cobblestones leading up to the town and further from the ocean.

“It’s so pretty here.” You mused, looking down the cobbled path, lit up by street lamps. “I’d love to live some place like this, some day.”

Max’s brows furrowed, following your gaze before looking at you questioningly.

“You basically do.” He said, humourous lilt to his voice. “Mooching off of me, living it up in Monaco.”

It would’ve made you feel self-conscious and even a little embarrassed if those words had come from anyone else but Max, but you’d been friends for so long that you knew when he was joking and when he was being serious. And in this case, it was the former. It was evident in the teasing smile and his light voice, aside from the fact that he’d always find a way to rebook your flight and beg you to stay for a few more days. As if you hadn’t been with him for a week already, as if you didn’t attend nearly every race because he claimed that he didn’t want anyone else around but you.

You were aware that it wasn’t a normal friendship, what the two of you had. And you knew that people thought it to be unbelievable that you weren’t romantically involved, some days you questioned that yourself. But that was a whole can of worms that you weren’t ready to crack open just yet. It felt too dangerous.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You said, voice airy as you tossed your hair over your shoulder and skipped a step forward before turning and walking backwards in front of Max. He arched a confused brow, almost disappearing under his cap and the sight was a little too funny. “As soon as I find another man to live off of. Preferably handsome and rich.”

You were kidding, obviously, but the thought still made something sour well up in Max’s throat and he struggled to not frown in annoyance. He looked away, making it seem as if he was admiring the ocean view that he could barely see in the dark, when he was in fact trying to shield his face from your attentive eyes.

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” He said, cursing himself when his voice shook. It was so minimal though and you thankfully didn’t call him out on it. ”I mean, look at you.”

There was an awkward silence seeping into the space between you and you tried to maintain the aloof expression on your face but it was hard when your stomach was doing weird flip flops. Look at you.

“And also,” Max continued, rushing to fill the silence and break the sudden and rare awkwardness. “You’ve got me as your wingman.”

That made you laugh, and something like relief flooded Max’s stomach.

“Wingman? Right.” You turned, walking ahead of him and the boy frowned at the disbelieving tone in your voice.

“What do you mean? I’m an excellent wingman.” He jogged up to catch up with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in.

It always amused him how you stumbled into his embrace whenever he did that, always so caught off guard but never once doubting that he’d be there to keep you upright. It was his favourite thing to do, mainly because you’d grumble and peer up at him with your eyes and Max would grin like the close proximity didn’t make him want to vomit with how much he craved to press his lips to yours. Just to see what it’d be like.

“Max,” you rolled your eyes. “No one ever dares to approach me when you’re by my side. You’re like a guard dog.”

“What?” He pulled back a little to look at your face, still keeping his arm around you. “I’m not! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You scare off every single man!” Your voice went high in amusement and something else that he couldn't put his finger on. At Max’s furrowed brows, you sucked your teeth in exasperation and continued, “Last weekend, we were out in Monaco, remember? Two guys approached me, and you just magically seemed to show up and stake your claim. You might as well have peed all over me.”

The furrow between Max’s eyebrows seemed to deepen, feeling a little lost all of a sudden because you sounded genuinely upset and he didn’t know what to do with that.

“That's disgusting. And I wasn’t staking anything.” Max grumbled when the silence stretched on. “They were idiots anyway. Who wears sunglasses inside a club? At night?"

The both of you stared at each other as you walked and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle that broke the sudden tension. Just the sound of it made Max relax a little from where he'd suddenly gone tense.

“He was kind of a loser, wasn’t he?” You agreed, because it was true. “But you still scare every guy off.”

Okay, so maybe he did. And he’d done so unintentionally until last year before his feelings for you started to enter dangerous territory. Whereas before, he’d genuinely think that the guys you dated were total idiots, now he’d find a way to glare and act standoffish until the men took that as a sign and bailed.

“Sorry.” He said, but he really wasn’t. And you clearly didn’t believe he was sincere, judging by the arched brows on your forehead. “What? I am.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because you weren’t really upset about the fact that Max managed to chase men off whenever they got close to you. It was just the fact that he ran them off and then continued to act as if his actions didn’t have any hidden motives.

There was clearly something between the two of you, and it scared you but it also made you want more. Max was just too much of a wuss to act out on it, and so were you, in a way.

You didn’t know how many hints you could dish out before it got borderline ridiculous. Max didn't need a push, he needed a shove.

The both of you took a walk around the small village before circling back home. A few had retired to bed already, and you found Daniel, Pierre and Lando lounging around by the outdoor fireplace. Lando clocked the both of you walking into the backyard, looking a little suspicious and you shot him a questioning glance.

“Welcome back, children.” The man himself greeted, earning a flick to the head by Max in passing. He yelped, making you laugh as you sat down by Pierre.

“We’re older than you, idiot.” You pointed out and Max made a hum in agreement, looking around with a small frown.

It was ridiculous how he all of a sudden felt a little lost when you didn’t immediately go for a seat that held two people. You always managed to find a seat right next to Max, even going as far as sitting in his lap when he was in a chair; neither of you pointing out the fact that there were other seats to choose from.

But now you’d sat next to Pierre, and he felt something ugly bloom in his chest when the man in question draped a friendly arm over the backrest. You were good friends with the Frenchman, and he had a girlfriend but it still made Max annoyed.

He reluctantly sat in a chair when he realised that he’d lingered for too long, trying to tune into the conversation that had gone on for the whole time he’d gotten lost in his head.

You’d noticed, of course you had, there was no one as in tune with Max Verstappen as you were. It made you feel a smidge of glee because it was just further confirmation that whatever was going on between the two of you wasn’t friends being friends.

And it only seemed to solidify when Max looked your way, a hundred emotions shining in his eyes as he glared daggers at Pierre and his harmless arm. You arched an eyebrow, silently and innocently asking him what was wrong.

You watched Max shift in his seat.

“So, where’s Kika, Pierre?” He asked, the question coming out of the blue and you almost rolled your eyes, trying not to react when Daniel and Lando’s conversation trailed off to look at the three of you.

Pierre touched your shoulder with a finger, a tap that conveyed so much and you hid a smile by biting your cheek. Leave it to Pierre to read a room and embody the innocent and clueless man perfectly in order to help you.

“She’s sleeping.” He replied easily, kindly. “Had a little too much to drink. Which reminds me…” He trailed off and turned his head to look at you. “She wanted me to remind you of your plans tomorrow.”

“What plans?” Max asked before you had a chance to reply.

“We’re just going to a boutique we came across. It looked cute,” you smiled. “It was closed when we walked by today. But they had these nice bikinis I wanted to get my hands on.”

Lando looked up at the mention of bikinis, a smarmy smile that told you exactly what he’d say before he even opened his mouth.

“Can I come?” He asked, making Daniel cackle.

You stretched your leg out to kick his shin, grinning at his cheekiness. Lando dodged your kick just barely, a smile of his own stretching his lips.

“You’re being weird.” Max said, giving the British boy a look that looked an awful lot like a warning. It didn’t deter Lando though, not like it’d make a grown man running if it were aimed at a stranger.

The curly haired boy only rolled his eyes, a playful air to him as he glanced between you and Max.

“I’m being weird, sure.” He said. “Not as weird as you two sharing a bed.”

A hot flush traveled up your spine and reached your cheeks when Pierre and Daniel laughed, like they were trying to hold it in but couldn’t. You had half a mind to reach over the table and strangle your friend who looked way too smug to have aired out the one thing everyone probably had thought at least once, but never said out loud.

You and Max shared a glance, expecting him to look embarrassed but he looked smug and you didn’t know why your stomach rolled at the sight. He looked… hot. Confidence had always looked good on Max.

“At least I have someone to share a bed with, dipshit.” He stretched out his hand to pinch Lando, making everyone laugh. “Can’t say the same for you.”

“Oh, ha!” Lando raised his voice in a fake laugh, face scrunched up adorably sarcastic. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny, Max. Maybe you should consider being a comedian instead of the insufferable driver that you are.”

“Maybe then you’d have a chance to get podium.” Max said around a laugh and it took exactly two seconds before everyone started hollering and cackling, Lando standing up to deliver half-assed punches and nips at the laughing Dutchman who tried to dodge the incoming attacks.

You watched with an amused smile as they scuffled, both red in the face from laughter and shouts. There was no way that they wouldn’t end up waking up everyone in the house, so you stood up and ushered Lando away from Max with a laugh.

“You’re both children.” You pointed your finger at Lando when he took a step back.

“Still more mature than you.” Lando said, not maturely at all and you smiled in amusement.

“That's a fucking lie, mate.” Daniel scoffed, laughter in his voice and Lando turned around to give him a piece of his mind.

You watched them dish out insults at each other that really sounded a lot like friendly love in disguise, startling a little when you suddenly felt arms circle your waist. A yelp left your lips when you were pulled into Max’s lap, twisting until you could look at him.

The closeness of his face caught you off guard, the blue in his eyes so striking with the fireplace reflecting in them. You draped both legs over his lap, making yourself comfortable with a shy smile.

“Hi.” He greeted you softly once you’d settled down.

“Hello.” Your breath stuttered a little when he brushed his fingers against your waist, skin against skin where your tank top had ridden up.

“I think that’s our cue to go to bed.” Daniel said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear and look at him.

Lando shot him a look, eyebrows raising when both Daniel and Pierre stood up.

“I’m not tired? You go —“ He halted his words when Daniel glared at him. “Right. Whatever.”

The boys stood up, bidding you goodnight and kisses to your head before disappearing inside. You watched them through the sliding doors as they shoved each other and laughed, vanishing around a corner. Max squeezed your side and you glanced at him.

“What?” You asked when you spotted the smile that so badly wanted to break out on his face, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“You were trying to make me jealous.” He said, not as a question but as a sure statement. You rolled your eyes and tried to steady your breathing when he leaned forward to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, his hot puffs of breath making goosebumps rise on your skin.

You squirmed when his beard tickled you, shoving halfheartedly on his shoulder but he didn’t budge. He pressed his lips against your pulse point and you knew that was it; he could definitely feel your racing pulse, there was no way he couldn’t.

“Well, it worked.” You replied belatedly, voice a lot weaker and shakier than you would’ve liked it to be.

Max didn’t say anything of it, though you could feel his lips move as he smiled into your throat.

“It did.” He confessed quietly, feeling your pulse jump beneath his lips. “I wanted to break Pierre’s fingers.”

He touched your shoulder where the Frenchman had previously touched you, like he was wiping off evidence of any man but himself. It made something coil tightly in your stomach, and you struggled to not squirm in your best friend’s lap.

“That would be unwise.” You whispered, glancing over at the house where there was no sign of life.

You didn’t know how you’d explain it away, if someone were to walk back out and find the two of you in this position. You, in his lap with your arm wound around his shoulder and Max under you, pressed so close in every way. It would certainly be hard to convince anyone you were just friends after this.

But you weren’t just friends. Friends didn’t touch you the way he did, with his hand stroking the skin over your collarbone, trailing a path down the cup of your tank top and feeling the swell of your breast. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes locked on his hand as it mapped out every inch of your skin; fingers stroking down between your tits before he opened the palm of his hand to slide it over your ribs, almost cupping your heaving chest. You almost wished that he did, every inch of your body aching to be defiled by the very same man you’d called your best friend for years.

“Breathe.” He murmured against your throat and you realised that you’d been holding your breath, a rush of air escaping your mouth as you willed yourself to relax.

“Max.” Your brows furrowed, arching your back a little and pushing your chest closer to him.

He said your name, the sound of it so beautifully intimate and hot on his tongue that it almost made you whine. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess in your head, making it hard for you to think of anything other than his hand. The very same hand that caressed your ribs, fingers spanning out until he brushed your nipple. You inhaled sharply at the twinge of pain when he went over it again, making out the shape of it through the thin material of your top and circling it teasingly just so he could hear your stuttered and laboured breaths.

“You sound so pretty for me.” He spoke against your skin, welcoming the twinge of pain when you pulled at his hair slightly.

The whispered compliment lit your body on fire, made your hand tighten in his hair so you could push his face against your neck. He seemed to get the memo, opening his mouth to latch onto the sensitive skin there and suck. The combination of suction and the sharp pain of his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple made you moan, the loudness of the sound catching you off guard.

“Fuck!” You cursed when he rolled the bud between his fingers, enjoying the way you squirmed; like you weren’t sure whether to push into or away from him.

You glanced up at the sky, trying to focus on the light of the stars but there was no stopping the way your eyes rolled when he bit into your skin where he’d been sucking a nasty mark into it, flattening his tongue out to lave over it. Almost like he wanted to soothe the sting.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” You asked breathlessly, even though you both knew the answer to that.

“Does it feel weird?” He countered, pulling away and you blinked down at him; struck by the absolute need in his face.

It was the first time you’d seen his face since you sat down, taking in the saliva on his lip and the blown out pupils. He looked good enough to eat and you couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth the way you'd thought of doing for the last year.

He welcomed it with gusto, pulling away for a swift second to gauge your reaction. Max must’ve liked what he saw on your face because he dove right back, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss that had you moaning from your throat.

“Been thinking about this for a long time now.” Max confessed when you both let up for air, staring at each other through hooded lids and bruised lips.

“Me too.” You said, pushing his hair back softly. “So long.”

He kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it and you let him claim your lips however he pleased before he trailed down your jawline, sucking a few more hickeys down the side of your neck for good measure. You pushed your chest out when he neared the swell of them, watching how he pulled your top down just enough to get a better look at your tits.

Max stared at them, marvelling at the sight before the need to have his mouth on them became too great. A whimper tumbled from your lips when he sucked and licked until your skin turned raw, giving the other nipple the very same treatment.

“Oh, what the fuck?” A voice exclaimed and you jumped, turning to shield yourself from whoever had decided to turn up unannounced.

Max hurried to pull up your tank top, shooting you a glance before he leaned to the side and peered around you at the same time you looked over your shoulder. George had his back turned to you, one hand on his waist and face turned toward the sky. You couldn’t see his face, but the exasperation was clear as day in his body language.

“You guys are fucking gross.” He said and you bit your lips together to stop from laughing.

“What the fuck do you want, Russell?” Max asked, clearly annoyed that you’d been interrupted and you smoothed a thumb over the crease on his forehead.

“I forgot my phone, asshole.” He replied, agitated. “Are you guys decent?”

“Yes, you drama queen.” You rolled your eyes and watched him turn around.

There was a grimace etched on his face as he walked forward, sticking his hand down between the couch cushions until he fished out his phone. George stood upright, and there was a moment of awkwardness as you all looked at each other.

“Congratulations on finally coming to your senses.” He said finally, saluting you and walking backwards. “But please don’t shag on the patio furniture, we still have a week left and I don’t think Carlos would like an ass print on the cushions.”

“Why don’t you come over here and kiss my ass?” Max flipped him off with no real heat and you laughed.

“No thanks,” he grinned as he reached the sliding doors. “I’ll leave that to your girl.”

A silence filled the air after George made his exit and you slowly turned around, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of prodding questions that would surely come in the morning. George could never keep his mouth shut, enjoying chaos where it wasn’t necessary and you’d been friends with everyone long enough to know that it only took one person for word to spread like wildfire.

“It could’ve been worse.” Max said, who’d been sitting silently and regarding the faraway look in your eyes. It never ceased to amaze you how easily he could read you.

“Don’t remind me.” You widened your eyes at him, a smile overtaking your face when you saw the sparkle of humour in his eyes. “Maybe we should…”

You trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint because the sudden embarrassment kept you from finish the sentence. What would you even say? Maybe we should go to bed so we can finish what we started?

Max seemed to pick up what you were putting down, as he always did. He gave you a nod, face soft with reassurance as he cupped your face in his hand, brushing a few strands of your hair away from your face.

“Are we good?” He asked, and you took a good look at him; noting the slight worry in his eyes and you realised that while he was reassuring you, he needed a little reassurance of his own.

You placed a hand over his, giving him a gentle nod with a smile. His eyes fluttered shut when you leaned over to peck his lips, placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek for good measure.

“We’re more than good.” You gave another nod, climbing out of his lap and reaching both your hands out so he could grab them. “Take me to bed, Max.”

He made a show of groaning loudly until you laughed, hauling him up and dragging him across the lawn. You preened under his wandering hands as he crowded your space from behind, plastering his front to your back and winding his arms around you.

“Stop that.” You hissed when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, making loud and lewd noises until it tickled you.

“But you’re so soft.” He complained, sliding both hands up your sides and under your top, fingers grazing your under boob.

You squirmed but made no real effort to push him away, opening the sliding doors and walking inside with a little difficulty. The both of you got as far as the living area before Max turned you around and kissed you, rendering you useless to stop him or protest. You could feel his mouth stretch into a smirk, like he knew what he was doing and you didn’t have the heart to make any effort to scold him even as he backed you into the sofa. A loud yelp left your lips when the backs of your knees hit the sofa, accompanied by his startled shout when you both went tumbling down on the furniture with him over you.

“That wasn’t nearly as sexy as they make it out to be in the movies.” You complained, watching Max smile down at you. He adjusted the both of you until you had your legs around him, testing the waters by grinding down on you and your mouth dropped open when you felt the hardness of his cock against your crotch. “Oh, hello.”

Max exhaled, like he was relieved to finally take some pressure off by grinding against you and you angled your hips to meet his thrusts, keeping your eyes on his to watch as his face went through a hundred of different emotions. You were struggling though, the rough denim of his shorts against your cotton ones felt deliciously nice and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep quiet.

“I’d sometimes lie awake and imagine what you’d sound like.” Max murmured quietly, teeth bearing down on his lower lip when you gripped his shoulders a little harder. He ground down, listening to you whine high in your throat. “I’d fantasise what you looked like when you came.”

You dug your heels into his ass, silently telling him to keep going because a few minutes more of his incessant thrusting and he’d have you coming. Max kissed down your jawline, sucking tiny little marks into the skin that he knew you’d give him shit for when your mind had cleared, but it was the thought of your friends seeing your bruised skin that worked him up into a frenzy. He wanted, needed to show everyone that you were his. Fuck Pierre and his wandering hands, and Daniel who’d smugly smiled at him from across the paddock all those times.

He’d show them.

“You gonna make that reality, my love?” He was getting close, voice losing its edge as he spoke the words into your clavicle. He bit the thin skin there until you keened, digging your blunt nails into his shoulders. “Gonna show me what you look like when you come?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” your words were becoming jumbled, making these high noises from your chest that seized Max by the throat.

He didn’t think you were even aware of how loud you were becoming, but he’d be damned to stop you. It reminded him of the same noises you’d make when you’d take a quick dip into a cold ocean and he’d splash you just for the sake of it. You’d make this high pitched, whiny noise like the chill of the water took your breath away. It was mesmerising and so fucking hot that Max couldn’t help but grind down one last time and shoot off into his shorts, a throaty moan in your ear that sent you over the edge as well.

He forced himself to watch your face as it scrunched up, mouth hanging open as you gasped for breath, body seized up beneath him as you both ground against each other in an effort to bring you back down from your highs.

“Fuck, this is gross.” Max scrunched his nose up as he looked down between you. You peered down with a breathless giggle, noting the spot in his shorts that had seeped onto yours.

He looked up at you at the sound of your laughter, face relaxing when he saw your smiling eyes and hot cheeks. The sun had been good to you, kissing your skin so beautifully that he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you for a second since you got here.

“I can’t believe we just humped like a couple of teens.” You said it with laughter in your voice, but Max could spot the shy tilt of your brows and there was something oddly endearing about it. "In Carlos's family home." You said the last part in a mortified whisper, like the reality of it was dawning on you.

“Should’ve done that sooner.” He joked and you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

Max dropped his weight on you as sudden exhaustion seeped into his body, and you grunted. You wound your arms around him though, ignoring the messes you’d made between you for the sake of a cuddle. Your fingers drew little patterns on his back, like you knew Max loved, and he almost purred at the feeling.

“We should probably go to bed.” You said quietly.

“Yeah.” He said, but neither of you made any effort to move.

The grandfather clock was ticking away in the corner, almost like background music, and you were almost lulled to sleep by Max’s steady breathing. Your eyes opened when he suddenly moved above you, having sensed that you were two seconds from falling asleep when your hands stopped moving on his back.

“Okay,” he sighed heavily and stood up with a grimace, wobbling a little. You smiled slowly when he offered you his hands, pulling you up. “Time for bed.”

“I’m getting déjà vu.” You referred to an hour ago when you’d declared bedtime, only to end up a few meters away on the couch instead.

Max laughed, pulling you along toward the stairs and guiding you down a narrow hallway.

The morning after went as well as you’d imagine, waking up with Max snoozing quietly on his stomach with his hands shoved underneath the pillow. You’d ghosted a kiss on his cheek before getting up to get ready for the day. Sharing a room with Max during all the years had made you stealthy enough to perform your routines without him waking up, but it could also be because he slept like a rock and not even pans and pots in the hands of Lando and Daniel could bring him out of his dead sleep.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Daniel greeted you when you stepped foot into the kitchen, pulling everyone’s eyes toward you and you smiled awkwardly.

“Hi? Hey.” You carefully avoided George’s eyes as you walked around the counter, patting Heidi on the back in a silent greeting.

The look she gave you had your hackles rising a bit, but you pushed the paranoia away because surely George hadn’t gone and blabbed already? It was only - you looked at the clock - nine in the morning. Christ.

Charlotte handed you a mug of steaming coffee and you wordlessly took it, taking a small sip. “Thank you.”

Conversation picked back up again as you went on the hunt for toast, popping them in the toaster and pouring another cup of coffee for Max who’d probably woken up by now. Francisca talked about the boutique you’d be going to, waving Pierre off with a playful hand when he tried to invite himself into your girls day.

There was a slight lull in the chaos of three conversations happening in the space of the kitchen, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that Max had finally joined the party. You turned your head and almost smiled at his hair, wet from a shower and sticking up in all directions. He looked sleepy still, a little bleary eyed but he still managed to find you in the gaggle of people.

It warmed your heart a lot more than you’d like to admit when you watched his eyes light up as they settled on you, murmuring good morning’s and patting backs as he made a beeline for you.

You smiled at him. “Morning.”

Max accepted the mug of coffee you handed him, kissing your cheek in thanks and you leaned into it automatically. It was scary how fast you’d gotten used to his affection, but it felt so natural that you couldn’t bring yourself to question it.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented you, hand finding the hem of your dress to pluck at it with his fingers.

It was a plain old summer dress in white, one you’d worn a couple of times but it was Max’s favourite piece. It made your legs look amazing, and he was slightly mourning the thought of having to let you go out with the girls and not being able to ogle you openly.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him.

“Is anyone gonna address the elephant in the room?” Lando spoke out, bringing the both of you out of your bubble you’d managed to create.

You turned around to look at the nosy group, rolling your eyes at your friend.

“Isn’t it clear?” Pierre balled up leftover bread from a loaf and chucked it at the Brit from across the table.

Charles frowned, glancing at you before looking over at his girlfriend who was smiling a little too brightly for your liking.

“Am I missing something?” Charles narrowed his eyes and looked at you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“You’re not.” You said, playfully glaring at your friends. “They’re just being idiots.”

George coughed, dodging an incoming slap to the arm from Carmen. Just that one gesture let you know that Carmen was aware of what had happened last night.

“Tell that to Carlos’ furniture.” He muttered but it was enough for Carlos to look up, frown deep in his face as his round eyes looked between George, you and Max.

“What?” He asked, confusion lacing his voice. “What did you say?”

Max coughed, hiding a laugh as he turned around to pick up his mug of coffee. You shot Kika a look that screamed help me and she didn’t even hesitate to hop up from the barstool and nod at the girls.

“Everyone ready?” She asked, earning a few replies as they gathered up their things for a day in town. "Vamos."

You watched in amusement before turning to Max, not really in the mood to leave him and he seemed to share those feelings, judging by the look on his face. His eyes flickered across your face, like he was trying to memorise it and you leaned into him.

“I’ll see you later?” He asked, like it was ever a question, watching you nod. He handed you the toast you’d prepared, giving you a look. “Eat up before you go.”

You tried to act like that small gesture didn’t make your heart absolutely crumble into ashes, not having the strength to refrain yourself from standing on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth.

“What the fuck?” Came Charles’ voice from somewhere and you laughed into Max’s lips before pulling back.

Max gave your behind a small pat and you turned around to leave the kitchen, thinking that you couldn’t wait to be back home.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen smut #f1 fics #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 imagine

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gguk-n · 8 months ago

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Unforeseen Affection (Logan Sargeant x Lando's bestfriend!Reader)

Summary- Oscar pitied her for being in love with Lando for so long, that as a kind gesture; he sets her up with his best friend, Logan. Logan decides to entertain Oscar surprisingly. Oscar thinks this is a great idea, Logan just wants to help his best friend and in the middle of all this, will Y/N get her heartbroken or mended? Stay tuned to find out.

The idea seemed great in theory, but I feel like I didn’t execute it as well; alas it is what it is

Oscar was a quiet man but he was an extremely observant man. If you ever thought you did something and it went unnoticed, chances were that Oscar noticed. Nothing escaped that eagle eyed man. He knew something was up since he set foot into the McLaren garage. Maybe it was the way Y/N looked at Lando or how she would always be gravitating towards Lando like her centre of gravitational force was Lando. It wasn't the same for Lando though; he was the life of the party. People gravitated towards him, he had a friend in every corner of the paddock and if Oscar could say it; every corner of the world. But the more he observed the more Y/N seemed content with just revolving around Lando like the moon revolved around the Earth.

It had only been a couple of races into his first season in Formula one; Y/N piqued his interest. He had so many questions and he couldn't ask his team mate, now could he, the subject of his interest. Oscar hadn't developed much of a friendship with the other drivers yet; he always found himself talking to Lando or Logan during the driver's parade. Lando had introduced him to a lot his friends but Oscar still found comfort in Logan. That's how Oscar found himself in a conversation with Alex and Logan. "So, what's up with Y/N?" he asked tenatively. Alex looked at him confused. "No, I mean, what's up with her and Lando?" he said cautiously. Alex let out a laugh, "Oh, you've noticed." Oscar looked at him and then Logan trying to formulate a sentence. Alex patted his back before continuing, "Y/N has been Lando's best friend since they were kids. She used to come to his karting races too. Her life has always revolved around Lando. I don't think I've ever seen her without Lando" Alex thought for a moment before continuing. "She's a great person, we've known her forever honestly. But it's tragic really" Oscar and Logan were intently listening to Alex. "She's been in love with him for as long as I've know her. It's heartbreaking really. She has never even dated. However, if you asked her, she will vehemently deny it." Alex said while shaking his head. "What are you guys talking about?" Lando interrupted. "Nothing" Alex said while engaging his conversation with the 3 guys in front of him.

The first person Oscar saw when he got off the parade was Y/N who was stood at the side. She came running towards Lando as he came down, handing him water and something a fan gave her to pass on to Lando. This wasn't a one time occurrence; she would drop what ever she was doing to go to Lando as soon as she would spot him. Even Lily had begun to notice. Watching this unfold, gave birth to an idea in Oscar's head. This was so left field from his personality; but Lily and Y/N had become very good friends and he just wanted to help Lily's friend. That's what he told himself. He was doing all this for her; to help her.

It was in between races and him and Logan busy were playing PS4 when Oscar broken the silence between them, "Don't you pity Y/N" Logan hummed. He didn't see Y/N as much as Oscar did, so he wasn't sure if he really pitied her as much as Oscar did, he thought. "You know, I was thinking" Oscar suggested. Logan sighed, "That's never a good thing" Oscar looked at him in disbelief, "When have I ever done anything bad" Logan just shakes his head, "No, you never do anything, honestly, so why now" "Well, she's pretty good friends with Lily and I just want to help a friend of Lily's out" Oscar defended himself. "You never meddle in other people's lives" Logan suggested. "Yes, but this is different. Y/N is like family" he said, with a bit of hesitation. Logan wasn't sure about this, "This is so out of character for you." "A guy can't even do something good in this world without being judged." Oscar replied in disbelief.

"What if we set her up with someone?" Oscar suggested. "We could, but we don't really know that many people" Logan thought out loud. Oscar was lost in thought for a while until he had a eureka moment. "What if" Oscar started, Logan wasn't about to like this very much, he thought, "now here me out, before you cut me off. You date Y/N" Oscar continued. Logan dropped the controller, standing up. "Oscar, have you lost your mind? I don't even like her" Logan said. "It doesn't have to be real. Just take her out for a couple dates; we make Lando jealous and he realises that he loves her and then voila, we've done what cupid couldn't." Oscar proposed. "No way, I'm not being roped in your scheme. Spare me Piastri" Logan said, walking away to the kitchen.

Oscar was a tenacious man, that's how he got to Formula one. He brought the idea up whenever he saw Logan in an attempt to convince him. Logan wasn't ready to budge. After a month of begging on Oscar's part, Logan was finally starting to break. They were sat in Logan's hotel room; Oscar had brought all of Logan's favourite food as a peace offering and bribe. "Please Logan, just for a month. Date her for a month. Lando might be an idiot but he isn't blind." Oscar begged. Logan mulled over his thoughts for a moment before speaking, "Ok, but what do I get in return?" "Anything you want, I am at your beck and call for a whole month" Oscar suggested tentatively. Logan hummed along to the suggestion.

"We need a plan" Oscar started. "Like what?" Logan asked, mouth full of burger that he just bit into. "So, I'll tell her you have a crush on her and then I'll set you guys up on a date" Oscar said proudly. Logan's shoulder slumped down in defeat, he really agreed to some shit. "But like we gotta make it believable" Oscar said. Oscar explained how Logan now had to act like he was in love with Y/N and kind of embarrass himself to make this believable. "Are you really my friend or do you just bask in my misery?" Logan muttered. "No my dear friend, I'm trying to help two dumb asses out" Oscar replied poignantly.

Oscar made opportunities up for Y/N and Logan to interact from the moment Logan agreed to help him out. He would leave the two of them for a couple of minutes alone, every once in a while. Logan's shy personality really played in Oscar's favour. Watching Logan flirt was like watching a train wreck and Y/N was non the wiser. He would purposely move Lando away when he would try to go to Y/N if Logan was around, to plant the seed of doubt.

After a couple of race weekends, Oscar's hard work was starting to pay off. Logan would bring Y/N coffee or a drink whenever he could. They would stand and talk to each other for a while before Y/N's attention would be diverted to Lando. It was time to put the actual plan in action. There were back in the land of the free, Logan's home race.

"Hey" Oscar greeted Y/N as he entered the hospitality on race day. "Hey Osc" she greeted back, having adopted the nickname which now stuck with Lando too. After making some small talk, Oscar decided to let the cat out of the bag, his heart was hammering against his chest; fingers crossed this works out. "Umm, are you free after the race?" Oscar asked. Y/N looked at Lando before speaking, "I don't know" she replied before calling out to Lando, "What are our plans for the night?" "We'll go out if I finish podium" he replied with a laugh. "What Lando said" she replied. "hmm, so, I just wanted to help a friend out honestly" Oscar began, "Logan likes you, so I was hoping you'd go out with him" he finished. Y/N looked confused, "then he can ask me out himself" she said. "He would, if he didn't chicken out like the last 3 times" Oscar solemnly replied. "I don't know about this" she said unsure. "He's a great guy Y/N, I've known him since we were kids. Just give him a chance" Oscar suggested. "Are you seeing someone?" he asked cautiously. Y/N's eyes flickered from Oscar to Lando before replying while her shoulder slumped, "No" "Then just one date, please" Oscar begged. Y/N didn't really have a way to get out of it, so she agreed to it. Also because she could hear her friends saying that she needs to date someone, she needs to get over Lando in her ear. And like Logan is attractive, if she said no to him while he was crushing on her, they would drag her to that date. So she agreed.

Logan scored his first point in F1 during that race after Charles and Lewis were disqualified post race. He was so excited. Y/N had spent the entire race thinking about Logan, ever since Oscar told her that Logan liked her; she ended up over analysing all of their interactions until now. After the race finished, she was hard wired to go and see Lando who finished P2. She congratulated him and he was busy making plans for the win. She felt bad for agreeing to spend the night celebrating with Lando so, she quickly shot Oscar a message asking him to let Logan know that he is busy tonight but maybe in Mexico he could take her out. She felt like she was looking into a mirror, she may have pitied Logan when she agreed on that date.

The Mexico weekend came rather quickly; she spent some of her time entertaining Logan in the Williams garage. The driver's noticed the shift, it felt strange to watch Y/N leave the blue hospitality when she would always be adorned in orange. Logan had started enjoying spending time with Y/N. "You gotta wear my cap for the race" Logan teased. "Come on, I can't betray my best friend like that" she laughed. "I'm sure Lando wouldn't mind" Logan said. She hummed. Logan could hear Oscar telling him to ask me out already. "Would you wear my cap if you were dating me?" Logan asked cautiously. Y/N eyes snapped up from the William's chassis to look at him. "Logan, I" she stammered. "One date" he said while holding out one finger and the best pout he could muster. Every one in the garage was now looking at the both of them. "Ok, one date" she replied putting his hand down. "Done, I'll pick you up at 8 on Sunday after the race" he declared. She smiled and nodded along to him. She left William's hospitality to return to Lando.

Oscar had booked a table for two to help Logan out, I mean it was his plan anyways. Logan like a true gentleman, picked her up from the hotel lobby and drove them to the restaurant. The ambience was great, it was cozy, and a warm hue was cast over the tables due to the candles that were lit. Logan told the patron his name and was taken to a beautifully candle lit table, draped in yellow and white with a bouquet of flowers in the middle. His mouth fell open in shock at the length's Oscar had gone to for this fake date. He quickly composed himself and held a chair open for her. She sat down with a smile while Logan took his place opposite to her. The conversation flowed smoothly, the atmosphere filled with the laughter and giggles emanating from the beautiful woman in front of her. The aura she was radiating was warm and calming. Logan hadn't felt this way about anyone, ever. Y/N really enjoyed the date, pleasantly so. She had planned on rejecting Logan when he dropped her off, but a part of her wanted to be taken care, wanted to be someone's centre of attention; so she asked him out on another date when he dropped her to her room. When he agreed, she kissed his cheek good bye and went to bed.

Lando was annoyed that his best friend bailed on him and didn't even tell him where she was going. He heard about where she went the next day at breakfast. "Where were you yesterday?" Lando pouted while watching Y/N plate his and her plate. "On a date" she replied casually. "With who?" Lando almost screamed. She looked around, "Logan" she replied, just above a whisper. "Oscar's friend" he whisper shouted. Y/N cringed internally but nodded along. "I thought you were aromantic/asexual or whatever that is" Lando said while laughing. The laugh hurt her ego. "I'm not" she replied indignantly. "I've just been knocking on the wrong door for a really long time" she replied with a humph and placed his plate in his hand and walked away. Lando sat down on the table with her, "what do you mean by wrong door? and what does that have anything to do with going on a date?" he asked with a bit of pancakes. "Nothing" she replied while rubbing her temples. "Let's just eat in peace" she suggested.

Y/N and Logan hit it off instantly. That conversation at breakfast with Lando was the push she needed to finally give another guy a chance. Logan was sweet, kind, caring, loving and observant. He brought her flowers, planned out dates, and even invited her to come to the race with him. She was falling in love and it felt like someone was finally there to catch her this time around. Logan had started falling for her too. He didn't realise when the acting turned into real feelings. He found himself buying things she would like, planning out dates according to her preference, going as far as asking Lily for help on what girls like. Oscar had teased him, "You're taking this acting gig really seriously. You'd make a great actor if racing doesn't work out" Logan never corrected him, and in hind sight that might've been a mistake.

It was the last race of the season, Logan had been resigned with Williams for 2024; he had asked Y/N to be his girlfriend on thanksgiving. So, it was a must that she should be with Logan during the race weekend. Y/N didn't mind being pampered. She wore William's merch and pass when she entered the paddock while holding Logan's hand. They made so many heads turn. There was a buzz in the paddock and it wasn't because it was the last race of the season. At the driver's parade, "I don't think this is working. You can stop acting" Oscar whispered to Logan. "What" Logan asked. "Dating you know who to make that guy jealous" he said. Logan brushed him off. "I'll see what I can do" Logan said while ignoring Oscar.

The season was done and dusted and that meant one thing; Logan could go back home. For once, he felt like he wanted his parents to meet someone who mattered to him as much as they did. He brought Y/N along; she was loved instantly. His mum couldn't stop gushing about them to anyone and everyone. His dad patted his back, "I haven't seen you this happy in a while" he said watching Y/N and his wife setting the table. Logan nodded along with a smile. The trip was a lot of fun and the two of them grew closer due to it.

"You should do what makes you happy" Logan said while the two of them laid on the sofa, a tangled mess of limbs. "Being with you makes me happy" she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss. "Being with you makes me happy too" Logan added, "but like I mean career wise. You don't have to follow me around" "I work remotely, I can manage. Plus, I don't think I can fall asleep if I'm not next to you at this point" she replied shyly. Logan brought her closer to him, squeezing her into his embrace.

The pre-season training was in full swing. Logan was busy working with Williams on the sim and with his trainer for the strength building and neck training. Y/N was off at the office today, she had been going in a lot since Logan wasn't travelling around for the races right now. After an intense training session, Oscar had joined Logan, and they both were sprawled on the couch. "I think I'm in love" Logan declared. "I've noticed" Oscar laughed. "I've never felt this way about anyone, honestly" Logan sighed. "Well I'm happy to be of help" Oscar boasted. Y/N had just returned from work, to surprise Logan she opened the door very quietly and tip toed to where she could hear him and Oscar. "I can't believe you agreed to date her just because I told you to" Oscar chuckled. Y/N was confused, her heart had started to beat faster. "I pitied her for her crush on Lando, so I asked for you help. It never made Lando jealous though, sadly. I guess that was a sinking ship" Oscar lamented. "Yeah, I didn't even like her like that but" Logan was about to continue but Y/N's phone started ringing, which made the two boys turn around, there were tears in her eyes. She quickly turned on her heels and ran out. She switched her phone off and went to one of her friend's house. She felt stupid, blind and used.

The next couple of hours where a blur, Logan's eyes were red from the crying, he had searched every where and couldn't find Y/N and she wouldn't even answer anyone's calls. He was sat on the sofa with Oscar patting his back and Lily berating them for being complete idiots. Y/N wouldn't even answer Lily's calls because she felt like she was in on the plan as well. After a while, Lily was reminded of Y/N's friend, Jess who lived in the city; she called her, "hey! This is Lily, Oscar's girlfriend. A friend of Logan's" she spoke in to the phone. Both the boys were listening to the conversation intently. "Why are you calling?" she asked rudely. "Is Y/N with you?" Lily asked carefully. "Why do you care?" she asked indignantly. Logan snatched the phone from Lily, "Please I just wanna talk to her. I'll clear everything out, just one chance. I’m begging you, please" Logan croaked out, his voice hoarse from the crying. Jess sighed on the other line, "Fine, I'll send you the address. You have 5 minutes to explain yourself. Should've never dated athletes" she mumbled before cutting the call. But Logan couldn't careless. He drove to the address and knocked on the door, he was holding a big bouquet of her favourite flowers and chocolates. Jess opened the door and after a few moments of thought let him in. "She's on the couch, I'm right here. If you do anything, I'm cutting you up in pieces and feeding you to my dogs" she snarled. Logan gulped before walking towards Y/N.

It was breaking his heart hearing the soft sobs coming from her, her body shook silently as she cried. He placed the flowers and bouquet on the floor and crouched down next to her. He patted her back while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What the fuck are you doing here? Leave" she screamed immediately while sitting up. "I'm sorry Y/N. Just lemme explain" he begged. "I don't wanna hear anything. We're done. You don't need to pity date me" she replied wiping away her tears. Tears started to fall from his eyes, "Just hear me out, please then you can break up with me or whatever. Please" he pleaded. She looked at Jess for her approval who just shrugged her shoulders. "Fine" Y/N replied with slumped shoulders, her eyes falling on the flowers and chocolate next to him. He held her hands while still on his knees on the floor, looking into her eyes, "This was so stupid. Oscar asked me to date you so that it would make Lando jealous. That never really happened. But what did happen was I fell for you. All the times we shared, the times we laughed and the way I could be myself with you was everything. I didn't know I could feel so strongly about anyone but then you made me warm and mushy. There's a reason I introduced you to my parents, because you mean a lot to me. I love you Y/N. I didn't even know when it happened but it happened so slowly like I was walking home before I knew it. It felt like a warm embrace on a cold night, or the first drop of rain after a hot day, or the first snow of the season. You've turned me into a poet, a better person and someone who wants to make you proud. I love you so much. Agreeing to that stupid request by Oscar was the best thing I did. I found the love of my life. I'm sorry for hurting you. Please take me back. I'm half a man without you" he said while breaking into a sob. Y/N reached out and wiped away his tears. "You know you are stupid" she said. Before Logan could cut her off, "But you are my stupid. You should've told me before." she suggested. "I was scared you would leave me if I did and honestly, I forgot all about it" Logan sheepishly laughed. She cupped his cheeks and pecked his lips, raising him up to sit on the sofa. "I love you too. No more secrets, promise" she said, while holding out her pinky. "Pinky promise" Logan said wrapping his little finger around her's and pressing his lips against hers in a sloppy, snot and tear filled kiss.

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a-d-nox · 10 days ago

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how can you glow up: your 5h - dating, hobbies, and fun

here's the next hypothesis of how you can glow up using your venus persona. take a close look at your 5h!

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

5h aries (1°, 13°, 25°), 5h mars, and/or 5h ruler aspecting mars

how to have more fun

say "yes": try new high-energy activities like rock climbing, dancing, rollerblading, spontaneous road trips, etc.

turn play into a lifestyle: treat everyday like an adventure. be confident, compete with others but more importantly yourself, and add excitement to even mundane moments (become a kid again).

be bold: start conversations with strangers, take the lead in group activities (become the one that reaches out), and embrace being the "funnest" (i know - stop lol) person in the room.

challenge yourself physically: competitive sports (idk why i think of frisbee haha), dance classes, and/or martial arts.

hobbies to explore

dancing, performing, or acting: think more of the bodily side fine arts.

competitive activities: martial arts, racing, and/or even something like competitive gaming - anything that gets your adrenaline going.

dating advice

be direct about what you want: own your desires and go after what excites you.

keep dates passionate & active: ideal dates include hiking, mini golf, dance class, karaoke, go-karting, etc.

flirt with confidence & boldness: your magnetism will increase when you’re direct, playful, and a little daring in your approach to romance/dating.

stick to people who can match your energy: you thrive in relationships that feel exciting, engaging, and full of passion - so avoid partners who dull your fire.

how to feel more alive

move with power & purpose: walk like you own the room, stand tall, take up space, and radiate confidence.

work on physical strength & stamina: you naturally feel more confident when you’re physically strong and active, so strength training or intense cardio can be empowering.

nominate yourself: whether it's work, hobbies, and/or social settings, take initiative and showcase your natural ability to lead.

5h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°), 5h moon, and/or 5h ruler aspecting moon

how to have more fun

lean into mood-based activities: your idea of fun shifts with your emotions, so create a "dopamine menu" or another popular trend from a few years ago "fresh and fried" lists.

revisit childhood fun: think roller skating, painting, playing in the rain, watching nostalgic movies, etc.

surround yourself with emotionally safe people: spend time with people who bring comfort.

express yourself through movement: dancing, swimming, scenic walk, etc anything like that can help you release emotional energy and feel more in tune with yourself.

hobbies to explore

journaling & poetry: writing can be a powerful way to process emotions and tell personal stories.

music & singing: whether you play an instrument, sing, or just make playlists, music likely helps you channel emotions into something beautiful.

photography: capturing moments and memories is deeply satisfying with this placement - i suggest trying both journaling alongside photography.

cooking/baking: comfort foods and nostalgic recipes can be a really nurturing activity.

dreamwork & the intuitive: exploring tarot, astrology, or even dream journaling can be both a creative and introspective outlet.

dating advice

emotional connection is everything: you crave romance that feels safe, warm, and emotionally fulfilling, rather than surface-level flings.

create sentimentality: handwritten notes, visiting nostalgic places, or sharing personal stories deepen your emotional connection.

trust your intuition in dating: your instincts about people are strong. if something feels off, trust that feeling instead of ignoring red flags.

vulnerability = magnetism: your emotional depth makes you incredibly attractive. let your authentic emotions shine - the right people will be drawn to that.

how to feel more alive

honor your feelings without shame: your emotions are a strength, not a weakness. let yourself fully feel and express them.

nurture yourself as much as you nurture others: set aside time for self-care, quiet time (maybe a phone-free/social-media-free day), and emotional reflection to avoid burnout.

5h libra (7°, 19°), 5h venus, and/or 5h ruler aspecting venus

how to have more fun

make everyday beautiful / romanize your life: whether it’s decorating your space, curating an elegant wardrobe, aesthetic mood boards, etc.

host: libras thrive in social settings. organize brunches, dinner parties, and/or meetups with friends. elegant and intimate gatherings will bring you joy.

explore arts & culture: museums, art galleries, fashion shows, music performances, and ballet - engage in experiences that inspire and bring refinement to your life.

hobbies to explore

creative arts & aesthetics: painting, fashion design, makeup artistry, photography, or floral arranging - anything that allows you to express beauty and elegance.

music & dance: playing an instrument, singing, or learning ballroom dance (like waltz or salsa) would suit your refined yet romantic style.

writing & poetry: try journaling, writing poetry, or even starting a blog on art, beauty, or relationships.

social hobbies: think debate clubs, book clubs, or event planning.

dating advice

embodying romantic aura: enhance your charm, elegance, and grace by practicing good etiquette, speaking with warmth, and presenting yourself stylishly.

go on classic: think candlelit dinners, rooftop cocktails, picnics in beautiful gardens, and/or elegant cultural events.

seek intellectual & social chemistry: you likely value wit, charm, and deep conversations in romance. engage in flirty, lighthearted debates or discuss topics like art, philosophy, or relationships.

keep things playful: avoid drama-heavy relationships. you thrive when there’s balance, mutual respect, and emotional connection.

how to feel more alive

develop grace & poise: work on posture, speech, and movement to exude elegance. practicing dance, yoga, or even etiquette can help refine your presence.

surround yourself with positive & balanced energy: create an environment that feels peaceful/harmonious to keep your energy elevated.

embrace love & other connections: love comes in all forms - romantic, platonic, and self-love - and is key to your glow-up. strengthen your relationships, practice gratitude, and express love freely.

5h aquarius (12°, 24°), 5h uranus, and/or 5h ruler aspecting uranus

how to have more fun

seek freedom & adventure: embrace spontaneous adventures that push the boundaries of your typical fun. travel to unexpected places, or attend some quirky events that peaks your interest.

bring the unexpected into your routine: spontaneous outings, surprise visits to cool/unique spots, etc.

experiment with new idea: stay ahead of the curve - discover things that excite you. it can be a new tech gadget, a trendy hobby, or an obscure interest.

hobbies to explore

innovative creative projects: digital art, tech crafts, photography, and/or abstract painting. anything that lets you express your individuality through creativity.

learn new skills: consider picking up something new and future-oriented like coding, 3D printing, or DIY electronics. or dive into areas that expand your mind like philosophy, social justice, or science.

join group creative projects: group art projects, a shared writing effort, or even a community garden or online brainstorming team.

dating advice

be playful and independent: keep your relationships light, fun, and full of playful energy. don’t take things too seriously and allow yourself to explore a connection without pressure.

explore unconventional dating: aquarius is all about breaking tradition, so embrace non-traditional dating experiences. try online dating apps, long-distance relationships, or date someone who challenges your usual norms.

flirt and have fun: focus on intellectual connection and conversation. you might attract someone who shares your interests. don’t be afraid to be bold and spontaneous in the early stages of romance.

how to feel more alive

embrace your uniqueness: authenticity is your strength. step into your individuality and express yourself boldly whether its through fashion, music, or the way you speak. embrace being “different” and make it your superpower.

create your own style: experiment with bold, eccentric outfits/accessories. let your personal style reflect your unique energy and embrace things that make you feel confident and vibrant.

engage with intellectual curiosity: dive deep into learning something new, like exploring new philosophies, technology, or even new languages. intellectual stimulation feeds your mind and brings vibrancy to your life.

connect with like-minded people: surround yourself with people who share your enthusiasm for freedom, creativity, and innovation. the more you connect with your people, the more vibrant and energized you’ll feel.

5h ruler in the 5h

how to have more fun

embrace playfulness: don’t wait for a special occasion to have fun. add music, dance, laughter, and spontaneity into your routine.

be the main character: you naturally shine when you fully express yourself. dress boldly, speak with confidence, and let your personality take up space.

say "yes": whether it’s a concert, a themed party, or a spontaneous road trip, push yourself to be more open to opportunities.

try performance-based activities: think acting, dancing, stand-up comedy, or karaoke - anything that lets you step into a creative role.

hobbies to explore

dramatic & bold fine arts: theater, dance, spoken word poetry, and/or performance-based hobbies can help you channel your natural charisma and stage presence.

painting & fashion design: anything visually expressive, like creating your own signature wardrobe (building capsule wardrobes, pinterest look boards, etc), photoshoots, or experimenting with colors and textures (look into color theory).

creative writing & storytelling: whether it’s screenwriting, blogging, etc, you have a talent for bringing characters and ideas to life.

competitive or high-energy hobbies: sports, gaming, or activities where you can showcase your skills and win (it doesn't have to be atheism it could be chess, trivia nights, dance parties, etc).

dating advice

step into your aura: naturally you exude confidence, charm, and excitement, so own your attractiveness and let your bold, playful side shine.

go on adventurous/fun dates: think carnivals, amusement parks, live shows, and/or dance clubs rather than the M.O. of dinner-and-a-movie. you thrive in high-energy, engaging experiences.

flirt with confidence & playfulness: your best approach to romance is to be lighthearted, flirty, and fun. keep things exciting and lean into spontaneity.

how to feel more alive

move your body more: dance, yoga, and/or even just walking makes you feel energetic, present, and alive.

passion & enthusiasm: when you talk about what excites you, your energy becomes infectious - so share your passions openly.

embody ‘i am a star’ / pearl mindset: act like someone who naturally attracts good things.

5h ruler in the 8h

how to have more fun

explore the hidden & mysterious: visiting historical sites, ghost tours, or underground music scenes could be your idea of fun and you just don't know it yet.

engage in transformational activities: try breathwork, shadow work, energy healing, or meditation to explore the mind-body connection and heighten your emotional awareness.

challenge yourself with risk & thrill: activities that test your limits can excite you, like escape rooms, suspenseful movies, or adrenaline sports (rock climbing, scuba diving, skydiving, etc).

hobbies to explore

dark & intense creative arts: express yourself through photography, poetry, sculpting, or painting with a psychological or surreal edge.

mystical & esoteric studies: astrology, tarot, numerology, and mythology (plug moment - you have reach the right blog) can provide an intellectual yet mystical way to channel/inspire your creative energy.

psychological & investigative interests: you may be drawn to forensic psychology, true crime, conspiracy theories, etc.

dating advice

magnetic & intense connections: you attract soul-stirring, transformative relationships rather than surface-level flings. allow yourself to explore deep emotional intimacy while maintaining your sense of self.

mystery & power: a little mystery makes you irresistible. don’t reveal everything at once - let people peel back layers of your personality over time.

go on intimate, meaningful dates: choose dark-lit restaurants, clubs, poetry readings, or intimate, intense experiences over casual outings.

develop emotional & sexual confidence: tap into your sensuality, emotional intelligence, and your ability to create deep bonds.

how to feel more alive

own your power: stop downplaying your intensity. lean into your alluring, transformative, and enigmatic energy - it’s what makes you magnetic.

build inner strength: work on emotional resilience and "unpack baggage" that can hold you back from fully embracing joy and romance.

surround yourself with meaningful, deep relationships: let go of shallow connections and nurture bonds that challenge and transform you in the best way possible.

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button!

return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to nox's hypotheses

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lelengerine · 5 months ago

Text

pairing. jeno x reader

synopsis. based on this req!

genre. not so confession au, just jeno getting his world shaken hehe, reader uses she/her prns and is implied to be female, reader is DENSE and im putting that lightly... lmk if anything was missed :D

wc. 1.4k

notes. anonie i support u fully because THIS IS SOOO HIM >< highly recommend listening to crazier by le sserafim for this one! sorry it took a while TT i was trying to see if my tags would fix but sadly that isnt the case... likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

you’ve always been jeno’s constant, his best friend, the person he shares his dumbest jokes with, the person who never fails to laugh when he falls out of the race track at mario kart, the person who knows when to cheer him up without him needing to say much. there was always an ease between you that others would envy, the kind of closeness that lets you steal fries off his plate without thinking twice or crash on his couch for hours without either of you caring.

that’s just how your friendship was.

at least, he needs to keep reminding himself that was how it was between you two because his thoughts were beginning to steer in the opposite direction. lately he had become hyper aware of your presence, noticing the way the bridge of your nose would crinkle ever so slightly when you smile, how you completely disregard his personal space to sit beside him closely, and even your reliance on him when you can’t seem to twist the lid of a particularly stubborn jar off. it was always the subtlest of things that lingered in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t pinpoint why.

though, it seems like his friends were more than aware of the answer he was searching for from the way they were teasing him during one of your spontaneous meetups in his dorm.

you and jeno sat side by side on the couch, surrounded by the familiar chaos of his friends. chenle and jisung, as usual, had been locked in a heated game for the past hour, their playful bickering filling the room. across from you, renjun and jaemin watch the scene unfold in their usual, quiet way, content to simply observe. you’re half-tuned into whatever conversation was floating in the air, mindlessly scrolling through your phone—with the occasional nudge to jeno’s shoulder, sharing a meme or video that made you snort on the inside, the casual, easy comfort between you both flowing naturally amidst the background noise.

haechan who was lounging lazily on the opposite end of the couch, passes jeno a look—a sly, knowing smirk that immediately puts the latter on edge. there’s always a hint of mischief behind haechan’s smile, but for some reason, it felt even more suspicious today.

“so,” haechan begins, stretching the word out, eyes never leaving jeno. he leans forward slightly, as if settling in for something big. “what’s been up with you lately, man?”

jeno raises an eyebrow, confused but wary. “what are you talking about?”

“oh, you know…” haechan waves a hand in the air, his smirk widening into something too smug for comfort. “you’ve just been acting a little… different.”

“different how?” you chime in with sudden interest. “did he start doing something weird?”

“not weird, just... off.” jaemin continues the bait haechan’s laid out, the innocent smile plastered on his lips testing jeno’s patience to not go over and close his mouth shut before it starts spewing nonsense.

“off?” jisung perks up from the floor, focus starting to shift away from the large screen in the room. “what do you mean by off?”

“oh, he’s definitely been weird for weeks now,” chenle adds, jumping into the conversation with a grin, catching onto his friends’ intentions fairly quicker than others.

jeno shifts uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t forget to shoot chenle a glare after joining the rest and their sudden urge for mischief. “i’m not weird. you guys are just being paranoid.”

“nah, you’ve definitely been jittery. more than usual.”

“yeah, i noticed it too.”

“jittery?” you ask, your confusion deepening, causing your forehead to form subtle creases. “why would he be jittery?”

before jeno can respond, chenle cheekily cuts in after pretending to ponder on his thoughts. “i don’t know, maybe something’s been distracting him.”

haechan snorts, clearly enjoying the whole spectacle a bit too much. “yeah, pretty distracted, don’t you think?”

you frown, gaze drifting towards your best friend. “is he losing sleep over video games again?”

chenle bursts into laughter, occasionally hitting jisung by the shoulder. “oh yeah, totally video games,” he teases, the sarcasm thick in his voice for anyone to pick up on. “he’s definitely been staying up all night thinking about those.”

"shut up," jeno mumbles, his ears burning as the heat creeps up his neck, trying to fend off the rising embarrassment. with every pair of eyes in the room glued to him, the pointed stares and teasing smirks are becoming impossible to ignore.

"this is so weird," you mumble, glancing between the boys. the playful tension crackles in the air, but you're completely clueless, unable to grasp what was so funny or why they were all being so persistent today.

mark, who’s been quietly observing from the kitchen, finally steps in after the conversation piques his interest. “maybe it’s a girl,” he waves the gentle suggestion in the air, and despite his tone being casual, you easily could tell he was just as in on it as the rest were.

the room falls into a brief, stunned silence. the first of the night.

you choke on your own breath, turning sharply to jeno, feeling a bit betrayed that he’d kept this from you. “jen, you have a crush and didn’t tell me anything?”

jeno’s brain goes into overdrive, panic flooding his chest from the thought of you getting the wrong idea. “no! what are you even talking about?” he sputters, flustered beyond belief.

as if there weren’t already enough misunderstandings, haechan dramatically nods, paying no heed to jeno’s frantic denial. “oh right, he’s been losing sleep over someone. the poor guy’s probably been agonizing over it.”

jeno’s pulse races, the teasing voices of his friends blending into a chaotic blur. he couldn’t explain it, not when he doesn’t fully understand it himself, but his mind immediately thinks of you. the way his stomach twists when you’re around, how his heart picks up pace whenever you smile—that jittery feeling jaemin mentioned... it’s all starting to make sense in the worst possible way.

there’s a moment, as the others keep prodding and nudging at him, where it clicks. he’s always been comfortable around you, always enjoyed your company, but now—with their teasing pushing his thoughts into overdrive—it feels different. the way his heart seems to lurch every time your shoulder brushes his, how your laugh makes his chest bubble with a ticklish feeling he can’t explain, the way his thoughts keep drifting back to you even when you’re not around.

do i… like her?

the realization hits him like a freight train, and suddenly, all the pieces that were once scrambled come together one by one. the teasing, the jokes, the way he’s been acting lately—it all connects into one perfectly clear line. he’s fallen, and he didn’t even realize it, and now, with every single person in the room staring at him, he feels like the biggest idiot on the planet for not seeing it sooner.

“i don’t…” jeno starts, his voice low, struggling to find the right words as they stick to his throat. his gaze flickers to you, sitting there still utterly confused by the entire conversation.

“oh my god, jeno’s speechless,” jisung deadpans, eyes wide in slight surprise. “this might be the first time in history.”

“must be serious,” haechan chimes in and from what you could tell, there’s no ounce of worry in his tone. instead, the boy is grinning widely, like a cat who’s caught the canary.

jeno can’t find it in himself to respond, the load of the realization still sinking in, heavy and overwhelming. even jaemin, who’s usually more subtle, can’t help but throw in a quick, “just admit it, jeno. we all know.”

you huff, still frustrated and completely lost. “am i seriously the only one not getting what’s going on here?”

“sadly, yes.” haechan confirms with a muffled snicker from his end, leaning back into the couch, enjoying this far too much.

jeno glances at you again, feeling his chest tighten. his head is spinning, his thoughts racing. you’re oblivious to all the teasing, still in the dark about what’s really happening, and maybe that’s for the best. maybe it’s easier if you don’t know—at least, not yet.

“i… i need to get some air,” jeno announces abruptly, standing up from the couch and bolting for the door before anyone can stop him.

“...should we go after him?” you propose, biting your lip out of nervousness, not having seen jeno act this way in all the years the two of you had known each other.

“just let him be for now.” chenle pats your shoulder out of genuine consolation, “he’ll find his way back to you.”

#: ̗̀➛ requested!#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader

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hayleythesugarbowl · 2 months ago

Note

I’ve read all ur Spencer and Ian fics and I’m obsessed, I’m just wondering while I’m waiting for more of ur writing if you have any fic recs!! X

oh my gosh you’re too sweet! i have a few spencer + ian fics coming out shortly i promise so stay tuned but in the meantime here’s some fics of them. i’m going to be so honest, sometimes i get so caught up in writing fanfics that i forget to see what’s out there and read them. but! these are a few of the faves that i remember enjoying 💌

‼️ hayley’s fic recs ‼️

spencer :

• call time — by @love-quinn (not only is this fic gorgeous, everything about this authors blog is gorgeous)

• late night — by @simpingsavant (this is the og for a reason)

• under the desk — by @spenceragnewfics (this one’s smut but d a m n)

• y/n is dead. | the funeral roast - by @thrillered (so so in character and hilarious)

• special news — by @smoshyourheadin (the writing is so good and the writer totally matched the vibe of smosh)

• mario kart: get seventh the girl — by @paisleypens (smosh at its finest this is so cute)

ian:

• here with me — by @simp-ly-writes (convinced this author works at smosh)

• no pain no gain— by @merrybloomwrites (this one’s so sweet omg)

• as a single mother — by @a-singleboat (the og 🙇‍♀️ )

hope this helps!! go give these authors some love and have fun reading!! more smosh fics from me coming soon 💋

#hayley spills the sugar!#hayley’s recs #anon <3 #anon ask #smosh #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #ian hecox #ian hecox x reader

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coco-loco-nut · 10 months ago

Text

I Hate It Here

Pairing: Max x Sister Reader

Summary: Max takes a stand for his sister

TW: jos verstappen, mentioned abuse, depression, mentions of death, mentions of an affair

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

——————

With Max gone, you were the one subject to the wrath of Jos Verstappen, especially when you stopped karting after a couple years. So while your brother was off winning grand prix after grand prix, you were continually reminded that you aren’t good enough, that you were the dud of a child.

“Maxie, tell me a story,” you call your older brother in tears one night, you don’t blame him for the fact that you are a failure. You love your older brother more than anything.

With a heavy sigh, Max dives into a made up story, like he was a poet trapped inside the body of a race car driver, except he is an awful storyteller. He does but doesn’t want to know the BS your lame excuse for a father told you.

Max is your best, and only friend, your consolation prize for surviving this far. You stopped really leaving home years ago, only leaving to go to the grocery store. Even to your job, you were just another remote employee.

Max only ever wants the best for his sister, you haven’t seen Victoria since you were so young that you don’t really even know if she actually exists, so he is all you have. Victoria doesn’t really remember you either, seeing as how you were the child of an affair. Max always tries to bring you to races as a lucky charm, but your response is always the same ‘i don’t believe in good luck, maybe next time’. It’s like you are scared to leave home, safer in the comfort of the walls you’ve only ever known.

You pull out your headphones and listen to music, tuning out the world. You hate it here, you hate your father, but you only know of one way to escape. You close your eyes and go to the little paradise in your mind. You read about something similar when you were a kid from a book Max you. It sits on your nightstand, the spine worn and frayed from years of use.

That’s similar to how Max finds you when he arrives a couple weeks later. By now he is used to finding you in that state, you spend most of your free time in your own mind.

“Y/n? Where do you go? In your mind,” Max asks, laying beside you in your bed.

“A little garden, you need a key to get in though,” you say, a little dazed.

“And how would one get a key?” He asks further, trying to keep you engaged.

“There is only one, mine,” you reply, moving to grab your headphones again. Max quickly, but gently takes them.

“Charles was asking about you. He wanted to know how you were, since he hasn’t seen you since I joined F3,” Max continues, you just look at him, an oddity in your dark room.

“Charles?” You ask and Max nods.

“My friend, you thought he had a silly accent, and thought he was cute,” Max elaborates, searching your face to see a look of recognition. You just shrug.

“We used to play games, travel back in time to different decades. You loved the 1800s,” Max says, not ready to give up.

“I was a debutante,” you whisper causing Max to smile brightly. You just shake your head, you read once that nostalgia is a minds trick. “I bet I hated it, it is always freezing in the palace,” you say, unknowingly giving Max a glimpse into the secret escapes in your mind. In your fantasies you travel everywhere even to space. Secretly you love it, but you are more than content to stay at home, even if you hate it here.

“Come to the FIA Prize Giving with me, pretend it’s one of your fantasies,” Max says, you nod your head, already away in another world where only the gentle survive.

“Max? Am I going to die?” You ask out of the blue, well out of the blue for Max. He doesn’t know how to respond before you turn back into yourself. He stands up, watching you for a minute. You stayed out of your depression a minute longer than usual, a small win for him.

“Leave your poor sister alone,” Jos says, Max just glares at him. Jos is the man who made you like this and Max will never forgive himself for it.

“Y/n is coming with me to Monaco, for good. Since you don’t care about her, I will take care of her,” Max says, prepared to stand his ground.

“Whatever, if you want to tolerate her worthlessness, that’s up to you,” Jos waves his hand, one less failure in his home.

“Don’t call her that,” Max grits his teeth. He was going to wait a couple days, but perhaps it’s necessary to expedite it here.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s your problem now,” Jos walks away. Max returns to your bedroom, getting a suitcase from your closet. Only the essentials for now, the rest can be picked up tomorrow. He packs up as much as he can in an hour before somehow convincing you to go with him to his hotel. You just stare out the window of the car as he drives, clearly uncomfortable. Max gives you the bedroom and takes the pull out couch. He immediately dials Charles.

“Max? What happened?” Charles can hear the exhaustion in Max’s voice.

“I’m bringing Y/n back to Monaco with me, she’s basically being left to rot by Jos. She’s lonely and bitter, but swears she’s fine. Y/n gets lost in her mind on purpose, there’s this fantasy land that she saves the good parts -her romanticism- in her mind. I’m losing her,” Max chokes back a sob.

“Max, what do you mean, losing her?” Charles asks, more alert.

“She doesn’t eat, she’s depressed beyond imagination, doesn’t leave the house, spends the time she isn’t working remotely in her mind. This house, our father, makes her feel worthless. If I didn’t come tonight, she might’ve died. Charles, she asked me if she was going to die,” Max has your image ingrained in his memory, a little too thin and pale.

“I just texted Maman, she will come over and visit her for a little every day, make sure she eats,” Charles says, holding back his own tears. He remembers you fondly as the little girl with pig tails, always excited to spend time with her big brother.

You struggle with the move to Monaco, one you didn’t get a say in it, likely because you spend most of the year in your mind. You have come to grow more comfortable with the woman who visits you and uses food from your brother’s fridge to feed you.

“Y/n? Feel like talking today?” she gently asks, setting the food in front of you, like she does every day. You look up, and Pascale nearly cries, seeing you start to breaks through. Your blue eyes pierce hers.

“Tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped in the body of a finance guy,”

#f1 imagines #f1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc

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pshbites · 5 months ago

Text

enhypen as pro athletes

genre ⇢ reactions, imagines, wtv u wanna call it

wc ⇢ 200 ish per member ? idk

warning(s) ⇢ profanity, loll smth else?

taglist ⇢ @wensurr @nshmurarki @blvengene @sirens-dreams @mimismenu

a/n : erm i should be studying for my chem exam but that can wait 🙈

if you liked this please be sure to reblog and like this! feedback is always apreciated <3 and join my perma taglist here

HEESEUNG… basketball player

- major troy bolton vibes

- he’s got tunes AND hoops

- god forbid you’re at a park and he sees a court

- “this one’s for you baby!!” *misses*

- all jokes aside he has that nba player aura to him

- DEFFF a d1 college athlete who then went pro

- always blowing a kiss to you in the crowd

- TROOOOYYYYYYYYYY

- he would try teaching you how to play but then get frustrated because he’s so passionate

- he’s just good at basketball and he can sing that’s what he brings the table that’s all he got!!!!

JAY… f1 driver

- lol did i give my bias my fav sport… MAYBEEE

- lewis hamilton and max verstappens love child

- oh and he’s a red bull driver

- fashion ICON. always pulling up in the paddock best dressed

- serves cunt on the streets

- he would be a menace whenever you two go go karting.. leaving you in the dust i fear

- you’ll never catch him below p5

- those sassy radios

- you’ll always catch him being snarky on the grid and off the grid

- akshully, he would tweet like lewis in 2014

- “he’s sitting in the middle of the road doing nothing”

- always blowing a kiss to you when he’s on the podium

- the alchemy by ts “where’s the trophy and he just comes running over to me”

- oh he’s looking for you the second he’s out of that car

- he would single handedly bring back red bull dominance

- picturing jay in a red bull uniform.. it’s heavenly.

- sigh i need someone to write f1driver!jay

JAKE… soccer player

- this was a given

- HE PLAYS FOR REAL MADRID NO QUESTIONS ASKED.

- him & that team would get along tooooooo well

- constantly posting q&a on instagram

- this un media trained king

- always mentions you no matter what

- “how are you feeling for the next match?” “great.. so my gf-“

- first thing he’s doing after winning is pulling out his phone and filming

- “LIVE REACTION TO THE WINNING GOAL” and it’s a 25 sec clip of him and güler running around the field.

- his insta story is such a struggle to get thru bc it’s either clips of him and the team on the private jet or a ton of random ass q&as

- “what’s your plan for the next season?” “idrk but today i had waffles for breakfast 😍”

- his interviews are always the most entertaining bc he just says anything

SUNGHOON… hockey player

- this is because i can’t just do a freebie and give him ice skater 😞

- BUT HE DID PLAY FOR THE HOCKEY TEAM WHEN HE WAS LITTLE!!

- he’s not like the other hockey men tho, not overly aggressive

- he’s actually calm when he isn’t annoyed about losing

- one thing about him, he will drag it through the mud if he gets in the penalty box

- kicking ice and everything 😭

- lowk i see him as the teammate who isn’t very public with his personal life

- only time people see him smiling with 50 teeth is when he’s with u

- thinks of his job as more of a hobby

- “so what interested you in ice hockey!” “i was bored…”

- deffo plays for the national team

- just the most nonchalant person there

SUNOO… tennis player

- now hear me out

- blonde sunoo = art donaldson

- LIKE WOAHHHH!!!

- once again on the national team FOR SURE

- does not play when it comes to tennis (idk anything abt tennis 🤣)

- WILL huff and puff if it’s out

- SO sassy

- like side eye when they’re sipping water and changing rackets

- cannot play duos for the life of him

- but he’s GOOD

- nicest person ever out of the field tho

- interviewers love him because he knows how to appeal to fans

- cannot be mysterious for the life of him

- his insta posts are either him or pics of you AND him

- he actually hard launched you on his insta

JUNGWON… swimmer

- i mean,,, have u seen that body???

- the way he dances helps out a lot because he’s very flexible

- oh he’s for sure on the national AND olympic team

- i know a body of water hate to see him coming

- you two could be at the beach and suddenly he’s doing all this fancy shit

- likes to brag about how long he can hold his breath underwater

- like a child “look look! 30 seconds” like yes baby you go!!!

- his personality switches when he has a swim meet though

- literally rbf EVERYWHEREEEE

- the second he’s out of the water tho he’s back to normal

- unfortunately he isn’t a pr nightmare

- too media trained for his own good

RIKI… baseball player

- he’s gonna be eating that dodger dawg 25/8

- idk anything abt baseball so bear with me

- bro is locked in for every single game

- and you alr know he’s in the mlb (america RAHHHH)

- i think he’d play for the yankees

- riki belongs in nyc we know this

- a pr NIGHTMARE.

- his managers hate to see him coming bc he’s just doing anything

- “what do you think you could’ve improved in the last game?” “nothing i’m amazing shut up”

- he doesn’t take anyone’s bs

- not even his own teammates r safe from him

- his social media is full of goofy ass posts or posts that you collaborated with him on insta but it’s only aesthetic bc it’s from your page

- lowk i think he would occasionally posts those pics like he does on weverse like just insane amt of aura in one pic

- probably has a streaming account in this universe too

- “can we hurry this session up i have to stream at 7 😑”

- part time mlb player, full time twitch streamer actually

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mrsfancyferrari · 3 months ago

Text

Start Something

Summary: GR63 + "Don't start something you can't finish." 🥧🏈

Song: Gigi Perez - Sailor Song

Author’s note: First time writing George and it's with a black Queen! aka Lewis' sister! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 16.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

In the dazzling world of Formula 1, where speed and fierce competition ruled, George Russell had always thought that nothing could distract him from his relentless pursuit of victory.

Raised amidst the roar of engines and the cheers of euphoric fans, he had turned a passion nurtured in go-karting into a career in racing. Joining Mercedes was a dream come true, a feather in his cap, and the stepping stone to establishing himself amongst the giants of the sport.

Yet, as George settled into his role alongside the legendary Lewis Hamilton, fate decided to introduce a new element—a distraction that made his heart race in ways no car ever could.

That distraction stood at the heart of the Mercedes garage, your laughter intertwining with the mechanical precision of pit stops, your presence an ethereal glow that drew every eye.

Y/N Hamilton, Lewis’s younger sister, with your long, flowing black braids and captivating smile, had transformed George’s world.

From the first moment he saw you, casually leaning against the garage wall and teasing your brother about his tire choices, George felt something shift within him.

You had a spark, a vivacity that permeated through every conversation. Every playful banter between you and Lewis made his heart flutter.

Unlike the calculated strategies and adrenaline-soaked races he were used to, you were uncharted territory, an alluring enigma that he found impossible to resist.

There were something intoxicating yet daunting about you—you were Lewis’s sister, a protector of the family name, and that made George hesitate. In a sport where boundaries was often blurred, this one felt resolute.

When the races ended and the teams dissipated back to their homes, George's thoughts lingered on Y/N like a lingering tune.

He would catch glimpses of you in the paddock, joking with mechanics, stealing the occasional insightful chat with engineers, and even cheering from the pit wall.

Everything about your captivated him—the way your laughter harmonized with the thundering engines, how your eyes sparkled when you spoke about racing, and the warmth of your presence that pulled everyone in closer.

George tried to tell himself that he had experience with women, with dating, and that he could easily approach you. But as he watched you from afar, the typical confidence he exuded on the track melted away.

You were untouchable, wrapped in the aura of familial loyalty; your brother was a legend in the sport.

Asking you out felt like challenging a titan.

You were the sister of Lewis Hamilton, a seven-time world champion, and that distinction brought its own kind of attention. People flocked to you, drawn in by your radiant smile and laughter.

Yet, amid the glamorous chaos surrounding you, there was George Russell, the promising young driver from Mercedes.

His piercing blue eyes often met yours in fleeting glances, a moment of light amidst the sea of noise, but when they did, his usual bravado seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a shy, vulnerable side of him that was rarely seen.

As you took your place near the track—the energy of excited fans thrumming in rhythm with your heartbeat—Lewis nudged you gently.

“Look at George over there,” he said, pointing to where George stood in his paddock, fiddling nervously with his cap. There he was, the confident driver to the world, yet utterly bashful in your presence.

You chuckled softly, unable to suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. “What’s he doing?” you mused, tilting your head to get a better look.

“Probably trying to figure out how to say hello to you without blushing,” Lewis teased, a grin stretching across his face. “It’s hilarious, really. I’ve never seen him shy around anyone else.”

“Maybe I should go say hi,” you suggested playfully, feeling a small thrill at the thought.

You had developed a mutual admiration with George over the months—not just for his driving skills but the warmth behind his reserved demeanor. Their playful banter only added to the chemistry you felt building with him.

“Go for it. But prepare for him to fumble like a rookie at the last corner,” Lewis chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Bracing yourself, you made your way through the throng of team members and media personnel, your confidence buoying you along.

As you approached George, he looked up, and his handsome face fell into a genuine smile, although the faintest blush tinted his cheeks.

“Hey, George,” you greeted, injecting cheerfulness into your voice.

“Uh, hey! I—um... hi!” His words tumbled out like loose marbles as he fumbled with his helmet.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Lewis says you’re a little shy around me. Is that true?”

“Shy? Me?” He pretended to scoff, but his shy smile betrayed him. “Nah, just... focused on the race. Really important stuff, you know?”

You leaned a bit closer, observing how unlike his usual self he was around you. “Sure, Mr. Focused. But the race isn’t happening for a while. Don’t you have time to chat?”

His gaze softened, his nervousness dwindling as he began to relax. “Right! Of course. What do you want to talk about?”

“How about you tell me what this weekend means to you,” you suggested, curious to know more about his passion.

George’s eyes lit up, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “It’s everything. The adrenaline, the competition—it’s like... like dancing on the edge. When I’m out there, nothing else matters; it’s just the track and me.”

You watched him talk, captivated by the passion in his voice. “That sounds exhilarating. I can’t imagine how it feels.”

“It’s—” he paused, catching himself, “It’s even better knowing you’re here. Really.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you searched his blue eyes for sincerity. “Why’s that?”

He dropped his gaze, appearing bashful once more. “I don’t know. You just bring a different kind of energy. It’s nice.”

Before you could respond, Lewis appeared, draping an arm around George’s shoulder. “Look at you two! I knew you’d scare him out of his shell,” he laughed. “Do you need a tutor in flirting, George?”

George shot him a mock glare. “I don’t need a tutor. I’m just... um, focused.”

“Sure, focused,” you interjected, suppressing laughter. “Give it time, Lewis. Maybe he’ll crack.”

“Oh, he will. Just wait until he gets back from the race and needs someone to celebrate with,” Lewis smirked before giving George a friendly nudge. “Break a leg out there! But not literally. We still need you alive for the after-party.”

With a final flip of his cap, George knew it was time to shift his focus. “Catch you after the race?” he asked, his tone growing a little more assured.

“Definitely,” you replied, giving him a smile that felt like a secret promise.

You stood beside the barriers, a proud family member soaking in the electric atmosphere that only race day could provide. George, Lewis's teammate at Mercedes and an up-and-coming star in his own right, had just come off the track after a hard-fought race.

As the cars roared by in a cloud of tires and adrenaline, your heart raced—not from the high speeds, but from the anticipation of welcoming George back.

“Georgie! You did so well!” you yelled, waving your arms as he approached the garage, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

George's expression softened, and a weary smile tugged at his lips. He was exhausted, but your encouragement infused him with energy.

“Thanks! It was a tough one out there,” he replied, shaking his head as if trying to clear the dizzying effects of the race.

As he drew closer, you could see the way his hair clung to his forehead, the remnants of the incredible effort he had just put forth.

Your heart fluttered, and as you often did, you reverted to that endearing nickname. “You’re such a little champion, Georgie! I’m so proud of you!”

George blushed, a swath of crimson spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not that little,” he protested weakly, trying to play off the nickname, but the smile on his face betrayed him.

You laughed and stepped closer, an undeniable warmth spreading through you. It was a little game you played, this teasing; you loved seeing him squirm, and you loved even more how he would pretend to be annoyed while secretly reveling in the attention.

George took a step forward and embraced you tightly. The warmth of his sweat-soaked suit pressed against you, the mingling scents of adrenaline and engine oil surrounding you both.

The hug was a blend of camaraderie and something deeper, something you both tried hard to ignore yet felt every time you were together.

“What a race! I thought I was going to lose it at that corner,” he said, pulling back from the hug but not entirely letting go of your hands.

“Corner ten, right? I was holding my breath! But you kept your cool,” you grinned, feeling the intensity in his eyes as he recounted his experience.

“I tried to channel my inner Lewis,” he joked, but there was a flicker of sincerity in his tone. It turned into a soft admiration that you couldn’t help but notice.

George had an undeniable respect for your brother, but was he beginning to look up to you too?

“You should!” you teased, playfully bumping your shoulder against his. “Just don’t forget who’s been cheering the loudest for you!”

George chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “You’ve made that very clear, y’know. I can hear you through my helmet.”

“Oh, you think I’ll mute myself because you’re a big-shot F1 driver now? Not a chance!”

The banter was light, but beneath the surface, there was a palpable tension, an unspoken bond that lingered in the air like the scent of burnt rubber.

Excitement crackled in the air as fans buzzed around the barriers, their cheers mingling with the distant roar of engines. Amidst the whirlwind of team activity, George Russell leaned against the open door of the Mercedes garage, his arms crossed as he watched the sea of enthusiastic supporters.

"Hey, try and shoot your shot with my little sis, even though she will reject you," came the teasing voice of Lewis Hamilton, who had just stepped out of the hospitality suite, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

George’s eyes darted to where you stood, chatting amiably with a group of fans. With your effortless grace and radiant smile, it was difficult to imagine anyone being brave—or foolish—enough to approach you.

Lewis shrugged lightly, as if he had just made a casual comment about the weather.

What he didn’t know was that George had been harboring a significant crush on you for longer than he cared to admit.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” George said, trying to sound nonchalant. He could feel his cheeks warming with embarrassment.

The last thing he wanted was to confess to Lewis how he felt about you, especially since Lewis had made it quite clear that you had rejected quite a list of drivers before.

“You sure? I mean, you never know,” Lewis teased, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eyes.

George turned his gaze back toward the fans, pretending to be absorbed in an ongoing autograph session, while internally he sighed.

His heart raced as he watched you bend down to sign a cap for a young girl, the way your laugh rang out like a bell, how genuine and warm you were in your interactions. Truly, anyone would have a hard time coming to you with all that positivity surrounding you.

George sighed, pushing away from the door. "I have to get ready for the next session," he replied, waving a casual hand to dismiss the increasingly tempting idea of approaching you.

"Suit yourself," Lewis said, an amused expression crossing his face as he stepped back inside.

With heavy footsteps, George made his way to his car, but his mind was still fixated on you.

How was it that you could have such an undeniable effect on him?

Just before he climbed in, he glanced back, hoping to steal one more look. The moment he did, he caught your attention; you waved at him, and a smile graced your lips.

He froze, caught between the instinct to wave back and the fear of making a fool of himself.

After what felt like an eternity, he managed to raise his hand in a hesitant wave, heat flooding his face. It was ridiculous—he was a driver in the elite world of Formula 1, yet here he was, acting like a schoolboy with a crush.

Later that evening, during a team dinner, George found himself at a table scattered with familiar faces. Lewis, animatedly recounting a recent on-track incident, commanded attention while George half-listened.

He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of you again, this time engaging with a couple of other drivers who were undoubtedly vying for your attention.

“God, look at her,” one of the drivers muttered, casting a flirtatious eye your way. "You think she’d notice if I shot my shot?"

“No one’s shooting anywhere, mate,” George snapped, surprising even himself with the sudden flare of jealousy. “She’s Lewis’s sister.”

The driver rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean she’s off-limits. She’s not a trophy to be won, you know.”

As the evening wore on, George made a conscious effort to not think about you. He should focus on the upcoming race and the important decisions that needed his complete attention.

Still, the thought of you lingered in the corners of his mind.

Then, as fate would have it, you entered the dining area, searching for a seat. Spotting George at the table, you smiled and made your way over.

“Mind if I join?” you asked, your voice warm and inviting.

“Of course not! I mean—I mean, please!” George stammered, his heart racing again. Mystery of how to act around you descended into chaos in his mind.

You chuckled softly as you settled into the seat opposite him. “What are you talking about? I saw you glancing at me during the signing session today. I thought you were going to knock someone over with how tense you looked!”

He couldn’t help but laugh nervously, the kind of laugh that felt more like a burst of squealing excitement than anything else. “Yeah, well… it’s just, I’m not good at that kind of stuff.”

Your eyebrows arched in surprise. “Not good at handling fans? But you’re a driver! You basically live under a spotlight,” you retorted playfully.

“More like I’m good at racing cars, not at charming beautiful women,” George admitted, taking a sip of his drink.

“Beautiful women? Now I’m curious. Have you been talking to anyone?” You leaned forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

George felt himself blush at your inquiry. “Only one, I suppose…but you probably wouldn’t care for that,” he said, trying to deflect.

“Try me,” you said, leaning back in enjoyment of the banter.

Before George could respond, Lewis appeared, swinging a hand around your shoulders. “There’s my sis! I hope you’re not stealing my teammate’s heart!”

George felt his face turn crimson. "That’s— uh, not happening, Lewis.”

“Blushing? Wow, I’ll have to tell the media about that,” Lewis laughed, holding on to your shoulder like a protective brother.

Not wanting to seem awkward, you quickly intervened. “Chill, Lewis! We’re just getting to know each other.”

George stole a glance at you, his heart racing yet again. For the first time, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he could open up about his feelings—just maybe.

But then came the reality: fear tightened around him again. What if you rejected him too? Would that ruin everything?

“Anyway,” you said, breaking the momentary silence. “What’s your take on the race tomorrow?”

George plunged into a conversation about strategy and his excitement, but in the back of his mind, the wish that he could simply tell you how he felt hung between you like an unmentioned dart.

As the dinner carried on, with laughter and snippets of conversation bouncing between you and the others, George realized he’d have to take a leap of faith at some point.

“Hey, would you… want to catch up after the race? You know, just us?” He fixed his gaze on you, uncertainty sprinkled with a hint of determination.

Your smile widened, an invitation hanging on the edge of your lips. “I’d love that, George.”

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

The sun dipped low on the horizon as George paced in the paddock, his heart heavy with disappointment.

It had been a tough season.

He could still hear the cheers from last year, the adrenaline pulsing through him as he crossed the finish line, grinning widely with the trophy held high above his head. But this year was different.

This year, every race felt like a battle against unseen foes, and his performance was slipping.

You hadn't been to any of the races this year, and it gnawed at him. George had always believed in the idea of lucky charms, and you had been his.

The way you would wrap him in a soothing hug after a bad score, whispering encouraging words in his ear. It had brought him a confidence he didn’t even know he needed.

He would always think of those moments, of your laughter echoing in his mind, propelling him forward when he felt like giving up. “Just do it for her smile, Georgie,” he’d remind himself, drawing strength from the bond you shared.

Now, he stood alone on the edge of the pit wall, wind whipping through his hair as he tried to shake off the feeling of dread that hung around his neck.

There was no one here to call him ‘Georgie’ like you used to, no teasing remarks about being a baby even though you were just a year older and a few inches taller.

The void you left felt so immense, filling the space where hope and encouragement had once thrived.

As the cars tore down the track, he struggled to push himself to focus. The roar of the engines was an ominous reminder of the struggles he faced.

Every corner he took felt unmotivated, every lap just a task to be completed rather than a race to be conquered. He could almost see you in the grandstands, waving your hands, your infectious energy lighting up the day.

But all he could see now were empty seats.

During the race, he made a few mistakes, his mind wandering to what you might say if you were there. The frustration built in him until finally, it burst. Ignoring the instructions from the team, he pushed the car harder than ever.

His only thought was “You need to do this for her,” and for a brief moment, it worked, igniting a familiar fire in his chest.

But then, as luck would have it, that very push led him to misjudge a turn, and he felt the tires screech in protest before the world spun around him.

Silence fell in the aftermath of the crash, and as he peeled himself out of the car, the reality hit him. There were no cheers, no warm embraces waiting for him, only the medics’ concerned faces.

Anguish swelled in his chest. All of his efforts to make you proud had culminated in this moment of humiliation.

As he sat on the sidelines, bandaged and dejected, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine. He suddenly remembered the last race of the previous season, the way you had been waiting for him in the pit after his win, your arms wide, your smile brighter than the sun.

“See, Georgie, I told you it was going to be okay!” you had exclaimed, laughing as you wrapped him in an embrace that made all the struggles worth it.

The thought of that memory stirred something in him. Determination bloomed within his heart. In that moment, he resolved he wouldn’t let year’s disappointing results define him.

He would find a way to get back on track. He had to, if only to find a way to bring you back to the races to see him rise again.

As the team carried the wrecked car away, George stood up, swaying slightly but determined to shake off the remnants of defeat.

One thing was clear: he needed you, his lucky charm, back by his side. The next race was just around the corner, and he would make sure you would be there—no matter what it took.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a warm glow on him as if signaling the start of something new.

Just as he was about to turn and walk away, he felt an inexplicable warmth, a flicker of your spirit. He smiled softly to himself. “Next time, I’ll make you proud, I promise.”

George took a deep breath as he watched Lewis scroll through his phone, the bright screen illuminating his relaxed expression. His heart raced slightly—today felt different.

He had been trying to find the right moment to ask Lewis about you, the woman who had captured his thoughts regularly since he joined Mercedes.

“Hey, George! Do you need something?” Lewis looked up just as George was approaching, his face lighting up with casual interest.

“Uh, yeah…” George hesitated, his mind racing. “I was just wondering where Y/N has been these days,” he managed, trying to sound as casual as possible.

The words came out more like stutters than coherent speech.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a grin breaking out on his face. “My sis, huh? Do you miss her that much?”

George felt the heat rise to his face, and he was sure he resembled a well-cooked lobster. “I was just wondering,” he said defensively. “That’s all.”

“Well, apparently she found something she wants to do and set off doing it. She didn’t give any details, though,” Lewis replied, an amused sparkle in his eyes.

“Oh, okay,” George replied, disappointment seeping into his voice. He had hoped for more, some hint of where you might be or when you might come back. “That’s...uh, good for her.”

“Should I call her for you?” Lewis teased, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile.

“No! I mean, no thanks, Lewis! That’s all I needed to know. See you!” George replied quickly, his nerves overtaking him as he turned to leave.

As he walked away, he could hear Lewis chuckling behind him, which only made his face feel hotter. George couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you.

You two had developed a close friendship through Lewis, sharing countless late-night conversations in the garage and daring adventures that seemed to bind your souls together.

The soft rays of the autumn sun filtered through the white curtains of your new apartment, casting a warm glow on the walls. You sank deeper into the plush couch, pulling a cozy blanket around you as you surrendered to the soothing embrace of a nap.

The chirping of birds outside formed a gentle background melody, lulling you further into restful oblivion.

Just as you began to drift off, the shrill ring of your phone broke the serene silence. Groggily, you fumbled to grab it from the coffee table, squinting at the screen. It was Lewis. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and answered.

“Hey Lewis! Is something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice, knowing that he was supposed to be at a big race in just a few hours.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Lewis replied, his tone light and cheerful. “I’ve gotten a sick teammate.”

You shot straight up, your heart racing. “Oh no! What happened to Georgie?” you asked, brain already filling with worst-case scenarios.

“It’s not that kind of sickness,” Lewis laughed, a laugh that felt like a warm embrace over the phone. “I mean lovesick.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, but also felt a knot form in your stomach. “Oh, you shouldn't scare me like that!” you said, half relieved, half annoyed.

“Sorry, sis, but I couldn’t help it!” Lewis chuckled. “He looked so sad when I told him you were on an ‘adventure’ and didn’t know when you were coming back. You really did a number on the kid.”

Heat crept to your cheeks. Georgie had been such a sweet boy, a devoted fan of Lewis and his racing, but more so of you, it seemed. “Did he ask where I was?” you inquired, feeling strangely shy.

“Oh, definitely. He practically pouted when I told him,” Lewis laughed again, the sound brightening your mood even more. “I mean, he is missing his number one fan, I get it.”

You smirked, feeling a flutter of happiness at the thought. “Well, who wouldn’t miss me? I’m pretty amazing,” you jested, tossing your hair back dramatically for effect.

“Yes, yes, the most amazing person on the planet. All hail the fearless adventurer!” Lewis replied, his tone mock-heroic, making you giggle at the absurdity of it.

“I wish I had my cape,” you grinned, “but really, what’s this about him being lovesick?”

“He’s been moping around like a puppy who lost its favorite toy,” Lewis explained, his voice turning more serious. “I honestly think you’ve left quite an impression on him, sis.”

Now you felt shy again. “What am I supposed to do about that? I’m off on my own journey, and I didn’t mean to make him feel, you know, this way.”

“I don't know,” Lewis said thoughtfully. “But maybe it’s worth talking to him? Just to clear the air? He thinks you’re out doing some grand adventure, which you are, but he’s worried he’s lost his shot at it.”

You bit your lip, considering. The thought of Georgie missing you tugged at your heartstrings more than you anticipated. “I guess… I could give him a call or something. Maybe a video chat?”

“Definitely! Give the poor kid a break. Plus, I’d love to hear the shenanigans you two would get into,” Lewis encouraged.

You felt a stirring of excitement at the idea. “Okay, I’ll do it! But if I end up causing him to fall head over heels in love with me, I’m blaming you,” you joked back, “It’s all your fault for egging me on!”

“Hey!” Lewis exclaimed, sounding mock-offended. “I’m just a brother trying to save his teammate's spirit here! I’d never want that kind of drama on my hands.”

You could hear the laughter in his voice and it made you feel more at ease. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Just keep an eye on Georgie, will you? And make sure he doesn’t drive himself to distraction before our talk.”

“I’ll send him your warmest regards,” Lewis promised, “And I expect full reports of your ‘adventure’ when you get back home.”

“As if I’m not already planning to regale you with tales worthy of royal storytelling!” you declared with mock seriousness.

“Perfect! I can already picture the enthusiastic crowd gathered for your triumphant return!” Lewis teased, and you both burst into laughter.

After the call ended, you put your phone down and stared out the window, contemplating the golden leaves dancing in the mild breeze. Who knew?

Perhaps this adventure was about more than just finding yourself. It might also be the path that led you toward an unexpected connection, one that had stirred beneath the surface, waiting for its moment to bloom.

And Georgie? Maybe he was one of those surprises along the journey.

George sat on the edge of his driver’s room chair, the weight of disappointment pressing down on him like the thick heat of a summer day.

The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating a world that felt far too bright and unjust.

He couldn’t shake the image of the checkered flag unfurling just as he crossed the finish line, his heart sinking as he realized he was in 17th place—a rank so low, it felt like a personal failure.

Outside, the celebrations for Lewis echoed through the walls. His teammate had pulled off yet another impressive race, scoring 6th place and basking in the accolades from fans and team members alike.

George could almost hear the cheers and laughter of the other drivers as they recounted their thrilling overtakes and nail-biting moments. But all he could feel was bitterness clinging to him like the stale odor of spilled fuel.

He had let himself down, and in turn, he had let down the team who had worked tirelessly to give him the best chance possible.

His thoughts spiraled into dark territory—if only the car had performed better, if only he had pushed harder, if only he hadn’t made that last-minute decision to take the inside line.

Not that it mattered now; the race was over, and all that remained was the sinking feeling of defeat.

After the debriefing, George had retreated to his room, avoiding the glances of his teammates who knew better than to engage him in conversation. He appreciated their silence, but it added a new layer to his frustration: the isolation.

A part of him longed for the comfort of a familiar voice, someone to tell him it was just a race, that he could come back stronger. But that supportive presence couldn’t arrive soon enough.

Why hadn’t you come?

You’d been a pillar of support, a reminder that racing was about passion, not just the numbers on a scoreboard. But today, you weren’t here, and he felt that absence like a gaping void.

George slumped back onto the couch, the weight of his disappointment crashing down like the checkered flag at the end of a long race. Seventeen place.

It wasn’t where he saw himself landing, not after all the preparation he had gone through for this event. His usual drive was throttled by anger and frustration, and there wasn’t much anyone could say to lift him out of this funk.

He rolled his head to the side, staring at the wall, half-listening to the muted sounds of the race venue still bustling outside. The excitement felt like a distant echo, so far removed from his own bitterness.

His phone sat silently on the desk, an uninvited messenger of expectation. It vibrated quietly, then rang out—it was family, probably. They’d be calling to soothe him, to assure him that he had more races ahead and that this one outcome didn’t define him.

But in that moment, George couldn’t muster the patience. He didn’t want to hear their words, wrapped in kindness, when all he felt was regret. He turned his head back toward the wall, letting the phone ring out.

But seconds later, it rang again—a familiar ringtone that made him sit up. They weren’t giving up easily. Just as he was about to dismiss it again, the third ring pulled him in.

With an exasperated sigh, he pushed himself off the sofa, his feet leading him to the desk. He picked up the phone and glanced at the screen. His heart dropped.

It was you.

The image of your face, lit up by the screen, chased away the haze that had settled over his mind. His stomach twisted as nostalgia teamed up with excitement, and he quickly answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Georgie!” Your voice danced through the receiver, a melody that tugged at his heartstrings. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his nickname escaping your lips. “How are you doing?”

“I got 17th place today,” he muttered, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I know, I watched the race,” you replied, unfazed. “I wish I could give you a hug right now.”

George's heart ached at your words. He wished he could feel your warmth surrounding him, erasing the chill of loneliness that had settled in. “Where did you go?” he said softly, laying down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “You've just... disappeared.”

“I've just gone to find my own path, you know?” Your voice was tinged with a weariness he could hear even through the phone. “Did you miss me?”

“Should I lie?” George joked, but the jest had a bittersweet edge.

“Nope, only the truth,” you insisted, making his stomach twist in knots.

“I’ve missed you a lot,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. It had been months since they had last seen each other, months since laughter had filled the gaps between them, and the thrill of their shared dreams had become mere echoes.

As silence settled between them, George could picture you—a smile that could light up any room, laughter that could dissolve his worries.

He missed the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your passions, how every conversation turned into a palette of colors that painted hope into his often grueling life as an F1 driver.

“Are you still there?” you finally asked, as he remained lost in thought.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, pulling himself back into the moment. “I was just... thinking about how life is different now that you're not around.”

“I feel the same way,” you admitted, voice softer now. “It’s strange, isn’t it? One moment we were inseparable, and the next, it feels like the world pulled us apart.”

George sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Do you think it’ll always be like this? Just... drifting apart?”

“I hope not.” Your voice was resolute, but the uncertainty lingered. “I think we’ve both been chasing something, but maybe our paths will overlap again.”

“Maybe,” he echoed, though he felt a pang of doubt. The F1 circuit was ruthless, and the more he advanced, the more it consumed him.

Success came at a price, and that price had meant sacrificing time with you, with the person who had always seen him beyond the flashy cars and the roaring crowds.

“Let me know what I can do to help,” you joked lightly. “Send you good vibes? Or maybe I should crash the race tomorrow and cheer you on?”

He chuckled, grateful for the banter amid his anxieties. “I’d love that. The distraction could help.”

As your laughter echoed through the phone, his heartstrings tugged as they always did.

How could someone so vibrant and full of life care enough to check in on him? In his eyes, you were effortlessly beautiful, with a spirit that could light up even the darkest corners of his fears.

“Alright, I’ve got to go. I need to call Lewis and congratulate him,” you announced, bringing him back to reality.

“Yeah, see you soon?” He tried to keep his voice casual, but the thought of your absence felt like a weight in his chest.

“I hope so. Bye, Georgie!” you sang before hanging up, the sound leaving an aching silence behind.

George tossed his phone onto the desk and took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling.

The vibrations of the engines revving echoed in his mind, but it was your voice—your laughter—that settled in his heart.

“So you talked to my sis then?” Lewis called out, his tone teasing.

George halted mid-stride as he walking past the hospitality room, his confident demeanor faltering for a brief moment.

Heat crept up his cheeks as he glanced back at Lewis. “What? No, I didn’t—”

“Come on, mate. It’s written all over your face!” Lewis laughed, the sound infectious. “I saw you two chatting before on the phone. What’s it got to do with racing, huh?”

George chuckled nervously, an undeniable smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We were just discussing the dynamics of the track...”

Lewis nodded, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with genuine warmth. “Just be yourself, mate. If she can see the real you, I think you’ll be just fine.”

As George nodded, ready to head back to his garage, a newfound determination surged within him. . . .

George Russell leaned against the cool metal of his car, the adrenaline still pulsing through his veins like the roaring engines that surrounded him.

He had just experienced a whirlwind of a race, finishing in second place—a personal victory, considering the challenges of the season.

As he peeled his helmet off and wiped the sweat from his brow, he locked eyes with his teammate, Lewis Hamilton, who grinned with pride.

"Not half bad for a young gun, eh?" Lewis teased, clapping George on the shoulder.

The camaraderie they shared gleamed like the trophy that would soon be presented to the race's champion—theirs was a friendship forged in the heat of competition.

"Better than I expected," George replied, his voice laced with uncertainty. While the roar of applause from the crowd filled the air, George could only think of one thing: you.

George had hoped you would be there to witness his triumph, to celebrate the moment that felt like it had been carved out just for him.

Tonight marked a holiday celebration that provided the perfect opportunity for the team to let loose, and Lewis was determined that George would join in the festivities.

"Time to celebrate, mate! You need to unwind."

George sighed, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "I don't know, Lewis. Maybe I should just head home."

Lewis shook his head vigorously, his face alight with mischief. "No way! I’m inviting you to our little soiree. Get ready—you need to dress for the occasion!"

Before George could protest, Lewis dragged him to the team's hotel. A little while later, George found himself staring at the mirror, adjusting a fitted black t-shirt and tailored trousers that felt disconcertingly foreign on him.

It wasn't his usual racing attire, and it certainly didn't feel like something you would want to see him in.

"What if my sister comes and you look like a runaway groom?” Lewis quipped, laughing as he helped George complete his look. “She hates it when guys dress too formally.”

The playful jab made George forget his reservations momentarily. “Alright, alright. You win. But if she laughs at me, I’m blaming you.”

“Perfect! Let’s bring on the night!” Lewis said, grabbing George's shoulder enthusiastically as they headed toward the club, their laughter echoing down the hallway.

When they entered the venue, the bass from the music thrummed through George’s chest. Familiar faces filled the space—Charles, Lando, Carlos, and other drivers were scattered throughout, already in vibrant spirits.

A few cheers erupted the moment George and Lewis stepped into the atmosphere of celebration.

"George! He finally shows!" Lando shouted, raising a drink in acknowledgment. George waved back, but a piece of him felt distant amidst the noise.

The pounding music blended with raucous laughter, but amidst the revelry, George's thoughts remained fixed on you.

As if sensing George's distraction, Lewis clapped a hand on his back, leaning in closely to shout over the music. “How’s it feel to be a podium finisher?”

“Great! But I don’t know... It would be better if you-know-who were here,” he admitted, keeping his tone light, yet tinged with sincerity.

Lewis raised an eyebrow knowingly. “You’re still hung up on her, huh?”

“C’mon, she should have been here to celebrate.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself! Come on, let’s find you someone to cheer you up!”

Before George could respond, a young woman, strikingly beautiful with warm eyes and an inviting smile, approached him. “Hey George! Wanna party with me?” she said, her lips curving in a playful manner.

George hesitated, a knot forming in his chest at the prospect. She was gorgeous, no doubt, but all he could think about was you—how much he missed your laughter, your warmth, and the effortless way you lit up a room.

“Thanks, but I think I’m just going to sit this one out,” he said politely, offering her a smile even if his heart wasn’t in it.

He turned away and made his way to the bar, needing a moment to collect himself. The bartender raised an eyebrow as George ordered a drink, and as he took a sip, he swore he could almost feel the tension release… but it didn’t work.

Instead, all he felt was a longing tugging at his heart, reminding him of the vacant space left by your absence.

George nursed what was supposed to be a single drink. But suddenly, what began with one drink turned into three, and now the room was spinning as he clutched the table for stability.

He chuckled nervously, acknowledging how quick he was to forget the limits he set for himself.

“Just one more sip, and I’ll head out,” he muttered to himself, yet deep down, he felt the pull of the crowd, the booming music, the laughter that was too easy to lose himself in.

But as he stood to leave, the earth shifted beneath him. He wobbled precariously, a laugh escaping his lips when he felt a warm presence wrap around him.

“Woah, Georgie! Let’s not fall now!” The voice was melodic. It sounded like you—the very essence he had been searching for on a night filled with hollow connections.

He turned slowly, squinting against the neon lights, and was met with a face that mirrored yours. Same bright eyes, same hair that danced whimsically with every sway of her body.

Was he delusional?

“You look just like her,” he slurred, momentarily forgetting his desire to escape.

“Let’s get you some fresh air, okay, Georgie?” she said, her hand still clasping his arm with a gentle but firm grip. He couldn’t muster a response; he simply nodded, following her through the throngs of dancing bodies until the blaring music was a distant thrum.

Once outside, the crisp night air hit him, refreshing but still dizzying. She led him to a bench in a shadowed corner, shielded from the rest of the clubgoers.

“Come sit over here so no one sees us,” she said, patting the surface beside her.

George obeyed, sitting down heavily as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stared at the woman beside him for what felt like minutes, captivated by her resemblance to you—your features, your voice.

Every detail seemed to stitch his heartstrings tighter, tugging at the loneliness that lingered like an unwanted guest.

“Oh Georgie, why are you crying?” she asked, her voice full of concern as she reached out to wipe a tear that had escaped the confines of his drunken haze.

“I miss her,” he muttered, leaning into her soft touch. He couldn’t believe he was pouring his heart out to a stranger, yet it felt inexplicably right and terrifyingly real.

“Who?” she asked gently, coaxing the truth from behind his barriers of inebriation.

“Y/N,” he admitted, not catching the way her breath hitched at the sound of your name.

“Is she that important to you?” Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper engulfed in their little cocoon of semi-darkness.

He nodded quickly, the gesture almost frantic. “She was everything… and I was nothing, I really messed up,” he confessed, tears emerging anew as he dove into memories of laughter, late-night conversations, and the electricity that sparked every time you smiled at him.

Sensing his vulnerability, the woman shifted closer, her hand delicately resting on his forearm.

“Tell me how you messed it up, George. Maybe it’ll help,” she encouraged, her eyes reflecting understanding that was almost uncanny.

“I—” he started, the words fumbling in his mind but finally tumbling out. “I was always too focused on racing. I was so caught up in being this driver that everyone would love and I lost sight of the love I had always wanted. I thought she’d always be there, that I could ask her to be mine one day.”

The woman bit her lip, absorbing his words. “Sometimes we don’t realize what we might have until it’s gone,” she replied softly, a note of sadness tainting her voice.

“I’ve reaching out, but it feels like there’s this wall between us now, one I built up without even knowing,” he continued, his heart racing with equal parts regret and hope.

“I miss her laugh, the way she could find joy in the simplest of things. I miss…” His voice trailed off as he blinked back more tears.

“Love is powerful, Georgie,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “You need to fight for it.”

He turned to face her fully, the realization hitting him like a pit stop at full speed. This woman could not only have been a reflection of his heartache, but perhaps also the voice that pushed him to find clarity.

“But what if she doesn’t want me?”

“Then you’ll have to accept that, but you haven’t even tried yet, have you?” she challenged gently, her expression earnest. “You’ll never know unless you do.”

George inhaled deeply, the words resonating within him. Maybe this stranger—this woman who wore your likeness—was simply a guiding light.

“Georgie, listen to me,” she said, squeezing his arm gently. “You have to reach out before it’s too late. Don’t let fear hold you back.”

As the night wore on, he felt the weight of the world lessen just a tad. The fire in his heart reignited, and he made up his mind. He would call you, declare what he could no longer hide.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking into her eyes that held so much warmth and wisdom.

"You're welcome Georgie," she said, bringing him into a warm hug which also reminded him of you. . .

George Russell groaned as sunlight streamed through the curtains, each ray piercing into his consciousness like tiny needles. Rubbing his temples, he tried to dispel the pounding headache that greeted him with cold indifference.

He glanced around the room, finding a stark contrast between the chaotic remnants of a night perhaps too wild for a professional Formula 1 driver and the calming colors of his well-organized space.

The clothes he had worn the night before were folded neatly on his desk—a testament to a gradual descent into maturity, or perhaps just a diligent hotel staff.

For a fleeting moment, he contemplated the irony of being a high-speed driver yet feeling this slow and uncoordinated.

Then, his phone buzzed like a mosquito in the dead of night, drawing his attention. A text from Lewis griped his curiosity: "Hey George, apparently Y/N was in town. Did you see her?"

George’s heart dropped into his stomach. Y/N?

The name echoed in his mind, accompanied by fragmented images of the previous night—a soft laugh, the swish of a black dress, and a set of mesmerizing eyes that had entranced him even as the liquor clouded his memories.

He cursed under his breath. She had been delightful company, and it gnawed at him that he couldn’t remember every detail.

He was too drunk. Too engrossed in the moment. Was she the stranger from last night, or just a fleeting wind?

He could almost hear Lewis’ voice in his head: You need to get your act together, George. You’re a professional, remember?

Ignoring the nagging voice, he replied to Lewis, "No, I didn’t see her. Things got a bit out of hand last night."

As he sat up, still groggy from sleep, he stared at the wall, deliberating over how he had ended up in his pajamas, yet again.

“Hangover bunks,” he mumbled to himself. “Last night was intense.”

With a sigh, George tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching as he surveyed the mess around him.

Despite it being a day off, his thoughts were far from the circuit and more focused on the woman he couldn't seem to shake from his mind: you.

“Focus, Russell,” he muttered. “This isn’t about you today.”

He hastily made his way to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower. The hot water felt fantastic against his skin, washing away the remnants of the previous night's events.

He found his mind drifting to the way you had smiled at him, how your expressive eyes sparkled under the sunlight, how the world around you seemed to fade away when you spoke.

George didn’t realize he was smiling in the shower until he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Flushing, he mentally slapped himself.

“There’s enough pressure today without thinking about… her,” he chastised, but in truth, the thoughts wrapped around his mind like a twisted tire, always returning to you.

Rinsing off, he dedicated himself to his skin care routine, that brief moment of self-care morphing into an involuntary meditation over the more meaningful moments shared with you.

As he applied moisturizer, each swipe was a daydream filled with giggles and shared glances, the feelings dancing just beyond his grasp.

Despite military-style discipline on track and media channels, his heart raced more for you than any car he’d ever driven.

George stood before the mirror in his apartment, adjusting the collar of his light blue button-up shirt. The sun streamed through the window, illuminating the polished floor, and as he ran a hand through his hair, he thought about how long it had been since he last saw his family.

The whirlwind of racing circuits, late-night parties, and media commitments had left little room for moments that mattered. Today, however, he decided to change all that.

Breakfast with the family seemed more necessary than ever, so he slipped into a comfortable pair of dark jeans and polished off his look with fresh sneakers.

His family home was situated just outside of town—a charming two-story house filled with memories that flooded back with every step he took toward it.

George felt a familiar buzz in his chest, a blend of excitement and apprehension, as he reached the door and knocked.

“George!” Alison exclaimed as she swung open the door, her face lighting up with warmth and happiness. “Look at you! Come in, come in!”

“Hi Mom!” He embraced her lightly, still cautious after the night before where he had indulged a little too much at a celebratory party. “Is Dad here?”

“He’s in the kitchen with Benji,” she motioned toward the heart of the home, a space filled with the mouthwatering smell of pancakes and crispy bacon. “Cara’s still getting ready.”

As he entered the kitchen, the sight of his father, Steve, flipping pancakes was a comforting reminder of all the mornings spent devouring breakfast together as a family.

Benji, with his youthful enthusiasm, was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!” Steve called out teasingly without turning around.

“Very funny, Dad,” George replied, rolling his eyes but unable to suppress a grin. “I was just busy winning races and celebrating my victories, you know?”

“Celebrating a bit too hard, I hear?” Benji raised an eyebrow, smirking knowingly. “You were looking a bit worse for wear yesterday on the media feeds.”

“Oh, come on! I had a couple of drinks,” George shrugged, trying to shrug off the mockery. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“So you claim.” Benji snickered, settling back down on a stool at the kitchen island as George poured himself a cup of coffee. “But really, man, what’s up with you? You’re more moody than usual—don’t try to say it’s just the fatigue of being an F1 driver. You know we’ve seen a different side of you.”

As they ate breakfast, the laughter and chatter wove seamlessly through the small kitchen. George was content just to be around them; the little quirks and affectionate jabs felt like home.

Jokes were told, stories were shared, and for a moment, everything felt normal again.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Alison asked with her gentle smile, genuinely curious about his schedule as she placed a fresh stack of pancakes on the table.

“Honestly? I just wanted some family time,” George admitted, a flush tracing his cheeks. “I’m still living out of a suitcase, my schedule is crazy, and I miss you guys. Just needed this.”

The conversations gradually shifted from the racing world to memories of childhood, and George sat back, letting the familiar warmth take over him. Yet, even amidst the laughter, he couldn’t shake the thought of you.

Your smile had become his driving force lately, the light that punctuated the chaos around him. But every time he allowed himself to dwell on you, a layer of embarrassment washed over him.

As if sensing his distraction, Benji slid into the seat next to him, nudging him playfully. “So what lucky lady is running ‘round your mind, mate? Or is it still Y/N stuck in your head?”

George jumped, caught off guard. “What? No way!” His denial came out too sharp, and he immediately regretted it as the teasing glint in Benji's eyes grew brighter.

“Come on, bro, I’ve seen how you look at her,” Benji said with a chuckle. “You’re gonna have to stop denying it sooner or later.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I just…think she’s really cool or something.” George tried to save face but was only met with knowing expressions from the whole table.

“You’re blushing, George,” Cara chimed in as she strolled into the kitchen. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she carried herself with an unhurried grace. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Benji replied with a grin that hinted at his amusement. “Just George being shy about his potentially crippling crush.”

“Whatever!” George exclaimed, hiding his face behind his hands as warmth cascaded down his cheeks. “You guys are ridiculous!”

“Hey, it’s just us,” Alison said softly, overjoyed at the candidness, even if it came with a bit of teasing. “If you like her, it’s great! You should tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t even know if she feels the same way,” George replied, desperate now to change the subject. “But we’ve just been…friends, you know?”

“Well, sometimes you have to take risks, son,” Steve chimed in, his voice steady and reassuring. “Life is too short to hold back on what could be something special.”

The conversation changed topics, but George's mind raced back to the allure of what could have been. He felt the weight of his family's expectations and hope.

It was new… this desire to open his heart to someone beyond the racetrack.

As breakfast wrapped up, George found himself distracted again, daydreaming about you, thinking of how he could break the casual barrier between just friends and potentially something more.

The heartfelt banter of family lingered in the air, but as he slipped into the warmth of nostalgia, he realized that in whatever direction life took him—whether he was conquering the circuits or fighting for love—family would always anchor him, grounding his ambitions in the realm of the heart.

With a gentle nudge from Benji, reminding him that life is fleeting, George resolved to take a chance when it came to you.

The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the family home as George finished his late afternoon workout. The aroma of his mother's famous chicken alfredo wafted through the kitchen, mingling with the scents of garlic and herbs.

As he entered the dining room, the laughter of his siblings—Cara and Benji—echoed off the walls. Their noise was a welcome distraction, but today, George could hardly shake the thoughts swarming in his mind, particularly the thought of you.

“So George, what would you want for your birthday?” his mother, Alison, asked as she dished up the alfredo, her eyes bright with excitement.

“I don’t really need anything,” George replied casually, forcing a smile, but his thoughts drifted once more to you.

“Come on, at least think of something,” Cara chimed in, her bright eyes sparkling with mischief. “How about a new racing suit? I hear they could use some updates.”

George chuckled, shaking his head. “I'm fine with what I have. Really, I’m just happy to spend the day with you guys.” Lying was a skill he had mastered well as a race car driver, but today it felt heavier than usual.

Benji, ever the inquisitive one, nudged him playfully. “Really? Not even a new car? You know, maybe this time, something that goes faster than a snail?” He burst into laughter, and soon the others joined in.

Their playful banter felt comforting, a light fabric draped over the layer of tension woven into his heart. George broke bread with his family, occasionally laughing at their jokes.

“Okay, George," Steve finally spoke up, his father’s tone a mix of authority and affection. "If you truly don’t want anything, how about a day at the go-kart track this weekend? Just the family. No fans, no pressure. Just us.”

His father’s eyes were warm, radiating the kind of understanding that came from years of navigating the complexities of family life.

George loved the suggestion—spending time with his family without the trappings of his racing career—but a part of him felt guilty for wanting something more than just this tight-knit gathering.

“Sure, that sounds great! I just need to clear it with my team, but I’d love that.”

Alison smiled and carefully placed a hand on his arm. "You know we’re proud of you, love. Just don’t forget to breathe once in a while. Life’s not just about the fast corners and tight turns.”

He met her gaze, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her unwavering support. “Thanks, Mum. I appreciate it.”

After dinner, the family split up—Steve and Alison went to the living room to discuss weekend plans while Cara and Benji challenged each other to a board game in the adjoining room.

George found himself standing outside for a moment, the cool evening air bringing him a sense of clarity.

He leaned against the porch railing, staring at the stars emerging against the deepening twilight. The sky, a blanket of possibilities, made him think of you and how special you made him feel.

Just as he opened his phone, eager to see if you had messaged him since they last spoke, his thoughts were interrupted by Cara’s voice calling out.

“Hey, George! Come play!” She tugged at him, not realizing he was lost in thought.

He smiled and gave a small wave, reluctantly putting his phone away.

It was easy to get immersed in the game, to enjoy the competitive spirit that thrummed through their laughter—yet, every moment seemed to pale in comparison to the connection he felt with you. . . .

The air was thick with the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline, a sensation that George Russell had long ago come to associate with the thrill of racing.

The vibrant colors of the paddock seemed to pulse under the Mediterranean sun as he wandered through the area, lingering a bit too long at the sight of the cars glinting under the sun.

He had just returned from a brief holiday with his family – an exhilarating few days spent go-karting at a private circuit that had reminded him of his roots.

He could still hear the laughter of his siblings, Cara and Benji, and his parents, Alison and Steve, echoing in his ears.

George, ever the competitive spirit, zoomed past his family members, reveling in the thrill of victory as he crossed the finish line.

“First place, as usual!” he declared with a playful smirk painted on his face, lifting his helmet to the cheers from his family.

“The only reason you win is because you’re the only one who takes it seriously!” Cara laughed, tossing her hair in a mock gesture of frustration. “How convenient that the racing driver is racing!”

“Someone has to keep this family in line. Besides, I’m just showing you guys how it’s done!” he shot back, ruffling Benji’s hair as he walked by, eliciting a squeal of protest.

As their laughter echoed around the circuit, George felt a rare lightness.

It reminded him of carefree days before the bright lights of the paddock overshadowed everything; days filled with family and simplicity.

But the holiday had waned quickly, and soon, the thrill of Formula 1 would call him back.

It was Thursday, the day of calm before the storm of race week. George meandered through the complex, past various teams—crewmembers bustling about, preparing for another race.

The atmosphere felt electric, but his mind drifted back to the previous week's bliss with his family.

As he sauntered, he overheard the voices of two men, each seemingly oblivious to the world around them. Curiosity piqued, George positioned himself closer, intending only to eavesdrop briefly.

“I remember when Y/N came over to me and showed me around. I swear Mercedes uses her to get more fans. She’s so pretty for a whore!” one of them laughed, the words dripping with contempt.

“Yeah, she did the same with me. To be honest, I only came to see her, but she hasn’t been here in months. I wish she gave me a performance, that slut.” The other man joined in, his tone equally disdainful.

He felt a swell of anger—with no outlet in sight, anger was all the more potent. He clenched his fists, the muscles in his arms tightening as he fought back the urge to confront them, the response simmering just below the surface.

He could visualize the headlines in his mind already: “George Russell Loses His Cool!” and he couldn’t allow that. Not here.

“Is that why you left?” he thought sadly, memories of you stinging his heart involuntarily.

“Hey, you guys want to keep it to yourselves?” George said, stepping forward, his voice cool but eyes blazing.

The two celebrities turned, surprise washing over their faces, and then derision. “What’s the matter, George? Can't handle a little talk?” One of them sneered, crossing his arms as if to project power.

“I just think it’s pathetic,” he replied, his anger simmering, careful not to escalate the situation while still making his point. “You’re just proving how small you really are, talking about someone who’s so much better than you’ll ever be.”

With that, he turned sharply on his heel and walked away, the adrenaline pumping through him, the conversations of others muffled by the growing storm in his mind.

He didn’t want to feel possessive over you, but that was almost impossible when he witnessed so many men trivializing your worth.

He would make sure that those two were banned from the paddock by the time you came back.

The rest of the day wore on, yet George felt the tension deep inside him.

By that evening, he found himself sitting in a quiet corner of the paddock, contemplating his next few days, trying to push away the bitterness of the day.

George’s phone buzzed unexpectedly in the pocket of his racing suit. He hesitated for a moment, torn between professionalism and curiosity.

He finally glanced at the screen; it was you. Your name lit up like a beacon of hope amidst the pre-race chaos.

“Hey, Georgie!” you said cheerfully when he answered, your voice cutting through his anxiety.

“Hey Y/N,” George replied, his brow furrowing slightly at the unexpected call. “What’s up? Watching the race?”

“I just wanted to tell you that on live television, you look like you’re about to beat someone up. So cheer up before there’s another rumor,” you teased, laughter dancing in your tone.

George looked up instinctively, eyes darting to the camera that had been trained on him moments before. He quickly realized that the camera was still aimed at him, trapping him in his moment of serious concentration.

He instinctively smiled, waving at the camera, which quickly shifted to another driver.

“Thanks, Y/N. Are you really watching the race now?” he asked, curiosity swirling in his chest.

“Of course! I’ve always been watching the races, Georgie. I have to support my favorite driver one way or another,” you replied, the sincerity in your voice unmistakable.

His heart raced faster, not just from the anticipation of the race ahead, but from the warmth of your words.

Your voice lingered in his thoughts, making him feel lighter and more buoyant. “Do you have your lucky charm with you?” he asked, shifting the conversation.

“Of course! I still have the tiny figurine of you from the last race at Silverstone. It brought you good luck, didn’t it?” you wittily remarked.

He chuckled, “Well, let’s hope it works its magic again. The last one wasn’t so bad, thanks to you,”

As he navigated through the twists and turns of the race, George couldn’t help but imagine you cheering from the stands. He could almost picture you, hair blowing in the wind, laughing and shouting for him.

It fueled him, a burst of energy propelling him forward through the tight corners.

“Are you keeping your eyes on the track, smart guy?” you teased, snapping him back into the present.

“Always! I’m in fourth place in the championship—just trying to keep my head in the game. You’re distracting me,” he admitted with a hint of a smile.

“Distraction isn’t always a bad thing, though. Just think of me as your good luck charm.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” he said, slyly.

“Mmm, I don’t know — maybe it’s my irresistible charm,” you quipped back, your playful banter continuing even as the race progressed.

George took a deep breath, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead. He could see the leading cars weaving around each other—an intricate dance of speed and precision.

But who else could mirror that thrill of competition but you?

George had always been the quiet type, the kind of man who found solace in solitude but who also longed for the warmth of another soul—the warmth of your soul.

It had been two years since he last laid eyes on you, since he had held you in his arms like you were the very air he breathed.

The distance between you felt almost unbearable after being stitched with frequent calls and video chats, allowing him to hear your laughter and see your smile, but still leaving him hungry for the presence he had once taken for granted.

He missed everything about you: the way your laughter danced in the air, filling the empty spaces around him with joy, and the sharp, floral scent that clung to your skin—a delicate reminder of the beauty you exuded.

He often found himself lost in thought, contemplating the contours of your face, eager to memorize each line and perfectly imperfect feature once more.

How could distance feel this heavy when they shared a bond that had once tethered your hearts together so tightly?

It was a Friday afternoon when George found himself in a familiar café that he used to visit with you. The place smelled of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries, the air buzzing with quiet chatter and laughter—yet it felt devoid of life without you beside him.

He absentmindedly stirred his coffee, giving in to the memories flooding his mind. A couple at the corner table laughed, and for a moment, it felt like you were there, your amber laugh reverberating in his heart.

They've talked about their weeks, shared the minutiae of their lives—your tales of new places you visited, his stories of late-night work grinding—but sometimes, beneath the surface of your conversation flowed the unspoken truth of your hearts.

Despite all this, he couldn’t shake off that familiar desire for something more tangible, more real. One could only drown in the virtual so long before gasping for the realness of pure, unfiltered presence.

For weeks, George and you had been discussing his birthday, a date he held dear. He had never been one for grand celebrations—his family had always kept things simple, focusing on the quiet joys of life rather than loud revelries.

He had looked forward to spending this birthday with you, perhaps sharing a cupcake at their favorite café or taking a long stroll under the stars.

Yet, as the day drew closer, he sensed a distance growing between them, a subtle divide that gnawed at his heart.

“I really want to see you,” he said the last time they spoke.

You had chuckled, but your laughter was tinged with an undercurrent of regret. “I wish I could, George. I’ll definitely call you on your birthday, though. That’s a promise.”

He had nodded, trying to be understanding, but the thought of spending his birthday without you left him feeling strangely adrift.

He understood that life could get hectic, but part of him wished you could understand how much he cherished your companionship, especially on a day that felt so significant to him.

George stood outside his parents' home, his heart racing. It was his birthday, and while he had envisioned a peaceful day celebrating with just a few close friends, his family evidently had a different idea.

As he knocked on the door, he took a moment to straighten his shirt, a navy blue one he had borrowed from Lando’s closet a few weeks earlier.

“Hey George! Happy birthday!” His mother, Alison, flung the door open, her bright smile lighting up the dim hallway. She drew him into a warm embrace, her familiar scent making him feel comforted despite his growing apprehension about the day ahead.

“Thanks, Mum,” George said, returning the hug graciously before stepping inside. As he crossed the threshold, he was greeted by the sounds of laughter and chatter filling the living room—a cacophony of friends and family mingling in celebration.

“Happy birthday!” the chorus rang out, friends and family alike raising their glasses in unison. The sheer number of faces surprised him, but what caught his eye was an unexpected figure among them.

“Hey George!” Lando chimed in, appearing out of the crowd with a cheerful grin plastered on his face.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift, handing it over with an exaggerated flourish. “For you, mate. I hope it’s as amazing as you are!”

“Thanks, Lando,” George replied, holding the gift carefully as he looked at the whimsical wrapping. “You know I didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of today.”

“Well, too bad. Your family thinks you deserve a big bash, and I agree!” Lando’s eyes twinkled mischievously, but George couldn’t help but feel a warm glow at being surrounded by friends.

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” George teased back, scrutinizing the package in his hands.

“Oh, but I did,” Lando said dramatically. “Besides, I brought you something that’s definitely not small—just like your party!”

George rolled his eyes playfully but felt gratitude wash over him. His friends were his anchor, especially Lando. Before he could get any deeper into thought, Cara, his sister walked into the room.

“Happy birthday, George!” she said, handing him a present as well.

“Thanks, Cara!” he laughed, accepting the card and marveling at its haphazard charm.

“Can’t wait for you to be added into the ‘old age’ groupchat,” she quipped, winking at him.

George chuckled, feeling the familiar banter that grounded him. Despite the overwhelming party atmosphere, moments like these made him feel at home.

His father, Steve, emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “George! Happy birthday!” His dad clapped him on the back, a grin stretching across his face. “Alison made your favorite—lasagna! And the cake is a surprise.”

George felt his stomach flutter at the thought. His parents had taken such care to prepare everything, and for a fleeting moment, the earlier dread of a party dwindled, replaced by a sense of appreciation.

“This is a great party, Dad,” George admitted. “But really, you could have let me plan something smaller.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Steve replied, feigning innocence. “Now, come on! Let’s get this party started!”

As the evening wore on, George found himself at the center of attention. Friends returned from the buffet table back to him, drinks filled with laughter and jokes.

Among them was Alex, who came striding across the room with his signature confidence.

“Happy birthday, mate! Ready to get older?” Alex flashed a smirk that matched his casual tone.

“With your banter, I’ll feel ancient by the time this is over,” George shot back, good-naturedly punching Alex’s arm.

As the festivities continued, George finally found a moment to settle into a quieter corner with Lando. “So… what’s in the box?” he asked, nodding toward the carefully wrapped gift.

“You really want to know?” Lando leaned in, the playful grin returning. “Okay, but it’s a secret. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Promise, just show me.” George couldn’t hide his curiosity any longer.

Lando tore the paper off with excitement to reveal a high-performance gaming console. “I thought you might enjoy something new to blow off some steam between races!”

“Lando, this is amazing! But you didn’t have to go all out,” George said, his grin widening with genuine surprise.

“Of course I did! You deserve it. Besides, now you’ll finally let me win at video games,” Lando chuckled, nudging him playfully.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the backyard where the party was in full swing. Laughter mingled with the chatter of cars racing around the circuit, and the enticing aroma of grilled burgers filled the air.

Yet, as George stood near the brightly colored table overflowing with gifts, he couldn’t shake the emptiness gnawing at his heart.

He smiled at Lando, who was animatedly recounting a wild karting story, but his thoughts were somewhere else—outside the boundaries of this cheerful gathering.

His mind wandered to you, the one person he had secretly hoped would show up, despite knowing you wouldn’t be there.

“I swear, I was like a ghost out there,” Lando laughed, mimicking how he’d crashed into the barriers last weekend. Everyone erupted into laughter, but George found it hard to join in.

He picked at the icing on the cake, wishing it could somehow conjure thoughts of you instead.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, mate. Everyone knows you’ve got the skills,” Alex said, slapping Lando on the back.

“Yeah, man! Maybe one day you’ll get a chance to drive for real,” Lewis chimed in. The good-natured ribbing continued, but George felt more and more like an outsider.

His phone buzzed in his pocket—just a notification from a group chat. He swiped it away, already knowing it wouldn't be from you.

“Earth to George!” Lando waved a hand in front of him, snapping him out of his reverie. “You good, mate? You've been kinda quiet.”

“Oh, yeah. Just thinking,” George replied, forcing a smile. The rest of the crowd had congregated to discuss the upcoming F1 season.

They analyzed teams, speculated who would dominate, and recounted past races as if recounting epic tales from a shared history.

With a heavy heart, George pulled his phone out, staring at the blank screen. He had sent you a message earlier in the day, but there had been no reply.

He tried to brush it off—maybe you were busy—but deep down, the ache remained.

“George!” Cara's voice broke through his thoughts. “Are you going to open your presents or what?”

“Yeah, I’ll get to them in a bit,” he replied, glancing at the colorful packages decorated with ribbons and bows. He wanted to open them, but a weight sat on his chest, tethering him to a world where you were missing, and nothing felt quite right.

There was a knock at the front door, but George didn’t pay much attention as Lewis, his older brother, ambled over to answer it. The chatter of their family echoed around him, a thick tapestry of warmth and laughter that felt alien.

George’s thoughts drifted; all he could focus on was the memory of you—the way you laughed, how your eyes sparkled when you talked about your dreams, and the way everything felt right when you were around.

“Hey, George!” Cara chirped, breaking his reverie, waving at him with excitement. “Open my gift!”

He offered her a weak smile, still lost in his own world. As he finally picked up a present wrapped in shiny paper from her, he felt a sense of heaviness lift, if only temporarily.

Unwrapping it, he revealed a gleaming silver watch that seemed to catch the light and dazzle.

“Oh thanks, sis,” he said, genuinely trying to summon enthusiasm. However, as he glanced up to thank her, he noticed that Cara's attention, along with the rest of the room, was drawn to something behind him.

Curiosity tugged at him, and he turned around slowly.

Standing just inside the doorway, illuminated by the soft glow from the hall lights, was you. A tired smile played across your face, but it was unmistakably you.

His breath hitched in his throat as he took in the sight of you—the way your braids cascaded around your shoulders, framing your face, just as he remembered.

“Happy birthday—!” you began, but before the excitement of your return could fully settle in, George dropped the watch onto the table and rushed toward you.

He enveloped you in his arms, lifting you off the ground as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the familiar scent he had missed for years.

You felt warm against him, as if the distance of the past few years hadn’t existed. The world around him faded, and in that moment, it was just the two of you.

“It’s really you,” he muttered, half in disbelief.

“It’s really me,” you replied softly, squeezing him tighter as if you were afraid he’d let go and vanish again. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” he said, pulling back just enough to analyze your face. His ocean eyes, alive with wonder, traced the contours of your cheeks.

You could see the spark of recognition flaring in his gaze as he took in the changes—your brown braids, longer now and cascading over your shoulders like caramel waterfalls, framing your face.

Your cheeks were fuller, your eyes a deeper shade of warmth, enhanced by the quiet confidence that had grown in the time you had spent apart. You wore a radiant smile, one he had missed more than he could ever express.

“You’ve gotten prettier,” he noted, almost as if he couldn’t believe his words, a shy smile creeping onto his lips.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the compliment unfurling something warm and bubbly within you. “I guess time can be kind in some ways.”

“Or cruel,” Lewis quipped from the other side of the living room, rolling his eyes with a teasing smirk on his face. “Right guys! Why don’t you get a room after everyone leaves?”

His laughter rang out, piercing the moment like a bubble popping, but it only made the warmth between you and George swell.

“Shut up, Lewis!” you shot back, playfully swatting at him, though there was no real malice in your tone.

Alison was setting the table in the background, chuckling softly at Lewis' antics.

“You should let them have their moment, Lewis. Two years is a long time to be apart,” she remarked, casting a knowing glance towards you and George, whose cheek was now tinged with a shade of red.

“Yeah, it is,” George added, his voice softer now.

The light banter and teasing faded into the background as the reality of the years apart seeped back into the room, reminding you both of everything that had happened.

“Best birthday gift ever,” he muttered for only you to hear, his voice laced with a mix of sincerity and sweetness. You giggled, the sound a little breathless.

“Since when have you been so bold?” you teased, leaning closer to him across the table. “The Georgie I remember used to be so shy of me.”

“Things change, you know?” George shrugged, though a sheepish grin danced on his lips. “Some of us grew up. And besides, it’s hard to be shy when you have someone worth being bold for.”

Your heart fluttered even more at his words, and you felt the heat rise in your own cheeks. “Well, maybe I was just waiting for you to catch up,” you shot back, attempting to maintain your composure. “It only took two years, but here we are.”

“Two years was rough,” he replied earnestly. “I mean, who knew how hard it would be? I missed your jokes, your laughter. You always knew how to make everything better.”

And just like that, the conversation turned into something deeper, filled with unspoken feelings and lingering glances.

You and George had shared countless moments over the years—playful arguments, late-night chats, and the comforting silence that only came from being around someone you genuinely cared for.

Alison cleared her throat, cutting through the burgeoning tension. “Alright, lovebirds, while you two are busy contemplating the meaning of life, how about we celebrate George’s birthday? I brought candles!”

You both jumped slightly, like deer caught in the headlights, as Alison revealed the large cake decorated with the bold letters “Happy Birthday, Georgie.”

The lightheartedness was a welcome distraction, allowing you to shake off the moment of vulnerability.

“I can’t believe they managed to get my nickname on it,” George said, staring at the cake in disbelief.

“Of course they did. I made sure to keep that tradition alive, along with picking your favorite cake,” you grinned, feeling a rush of satisfaction.

“You helped?” he asked, astonished, raising one eyebrow in that way that you always found charming.

“Couldn’t let my best friend have an average birthday cake, now could I? I had to make it special,” you replied, leaning back against him.

“Come on, son, blow it out!” she called, carrying the cake as if it were the crown jewel. The candles flickered, waiting for George's breath to extinguish them.

You quickly moved out of the way, wanting to ensure that everyone got the perfect shot of George, the birthday king. Just as you were about to slip away, George’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back into place.

“Stay, I don’t want you to run again,” he muttered against the top of your head, his voice low and warm.

You pouted slightly, playfully nudging him again. “I won’t run, but you do realize it’s your birthday, right? Shouldn’t we be getting you to center stage?”

“Not without you,” he insisted, his grip tightening just a little. “Plus, you make me look good.”

“Oh come on,” you laughed, your heart racing in the way it always did when he held you close. “You’re practically a supermodel next to me.”

Alison stood expectantly in front of you two, the cake reflecting the sunlight. “What are you two lovebirds doing back there? Come on, the world needs to see this stunning cake and its dashing contender!”

You stepped in front of the cake, and George followed suit, his hand never leaving your waist. The cake was a masterpiece, layers of chocolate stacked high, adorned with colorful frosting and surrounded by sparklers.

It demanded attention, and everyone moved in closer.

“Blow it with me?” George asked when the spotlight was finally on him, a charming grin illuminating his face.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, warmth flooding through you again as you took a moment to gather your courage.

You smiled, nodding. “Anything for the birthday boy.”

“Alright, everyone!” Alison called out, raising her hands like a conductor ready to lead an orchestra. “On the count of three! One… two… three!”

“3, 2, 1!” the crowd yelled in unison, and your breath hitched as George turned to you, his eyes brimming with exhilaration.

In perfect sync, you both leaned forward and blew out the candles, the flames extinguished with a puff of laughter, cheers erupting around you.

That moment was magic— the noise faded, and for just a heartbeat, it felt like it was just you and George, suspended in time.

“Make a wish,” you whispered, your heart racing. “But I don’t think it can come true if you’re going to keep holding on to me like this,” you added playfully.

“I have everything I need right here,” he quipped with a wink, drawing soft laughter from your lips, but inside, you felt something deeper.

After the cake was cut, the room began to dissolve into familiar pockets of conversation and laughter, filling the air with voices both soothing and celebratory.

You found yourself catching up with Lando and Alex, the three of you reminiscing about old times while trying to vouch for who had the craziest stories involving the birthday boy.

Just as you were getting to the good part of a particularly funny story involving a mud pie and a runaway dog, you felt a familiar tap on your back. Turning around, you were met by George’s shy smile.

“Yes, Georgie?” you asked, unable to suppress the brightness in your voice.

“Can I have you for a second?” he replied, his words almost a plea.

You excused yourself, the curious gazes of your friends following as you stepped outside with George. The cool night air wrapped around you like a refreshing breeze, your heart beating a little faster in anticipation.

George reached for his suit blazer, his fingers brushing against your arm as he placed it over your shoulders, the fabric warm and intoxicating.

“Here, sit,” he said, guiding you to a pair of empty chairs on the patio. The stars shimmered overhead, their light casting a silver glow upon the garden.

“Thanks,” you smiled, settling into the chair, feeling the weight of his blazer envelop you like an embrace. You glanced back at the door, music and laughter faintly echoing inside.

After a brief pause, George leaned back, his gaze fixed on the stars with an intensity that made your pulse race. “You’re not getting away that easily tonight, you know?” he said, his voice soft, breaking the comfortable silence.

You smiled, playful. “Oh? What am I in for, then? A secret surprise?”

“Something like that.” He turned to you, his expression earnest. “I just wanted to talk, you know, without the noise.”

“Okay,” you replied, a slight tremor of excitement weaving through your words. “What’s on your mind?”

He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “Can I ask where you’ve been for these two years?” The question hung in the air, almost palpable.

You knew he was going to ask this question, but not so soon, and his earnestness caught you off guard. A cocktail of old feelings bubbled up inside you, a mixture of nostalgia and trepidation.

“Yes, you can,” you began, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I went to find my calling, and I did.” You could see his interest spark like fireflies in the dark, and it emboldened you to continue.

“I started a charity from scratch, without anyone knowing who I was, which was hard.”

“What kind of charity?” George leaned forward, his intensity growing as he focused on your words, pulling you in.

“It’s for at-risk youth—teaching them art and giving them a place to create without judgment. I wanted to give back in a way that could light up their lives, you know?”

“That’s incredible!” George’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “You’ve always had such a big heart. It must have been tough, though.”

“It was,” you admitted, a shadow sliding over your smile. “Finding the right people to trust in a world that’s sometimes cold and unwelcoming… it took time. But then someone found me.”

You paused dramatically, relishing in the curiosity that painted his expression. “And I did some modeling.”

“Modeling? You?” George chuckled, his laugh rich and melodic in the stillness. “That’s wild! But I can’t picture you strutting down a runway.”

You laughed lightly, the sound easing the knot in your chest. “Neither could I! But it was for charity, so it felt right. They let me use my platform to promote the awareness of youth issues. It became more than just about looks; it was about the message.”

George's brow furrowed in curiosity as he relaxed against the chair behind him, crossing his arms. “What kind of outfits are we talking about here? Like, designer pieces or…?”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you pulled out your phone. “Oh, you’ll see. Not exactly designer, more like a collection of ‘what was I thinking?’”

With a few taps, you flicked through the pictures, showcasing outfits that ranged from a bold royal gown to a muse pearl dress. “Here! Look at this one! I call it ‘A Colorful Catastrophe.’”

George burst into laughter, shaking his head. “You know, you could have just gone with your regular jeans and a t-shirt, but you chose to make a statement.”

“Yes! And they said it made a big impact, which is what I care about and I could keep some of the dresses too,” you said, your smile softening as you scrolled to the next picture.

“They’re being posted today, and however much it makes will go to the charity.”

George looked genuinely proud as his gaze shifted from the phone to your excited face. “So what's the name of this charity?”

You hesitated for a second, enjoying the suspense before delivering the punchline. “I’m glad you asked; it’s called Georgie.”

His eyes widened, and the laughter suddenly evaporated from the air. “You named it after me?” His voice was a mix of surprise and disbelief.

You nodded, your grin widening. “I didn’t have any names for it, so they said to name it something I care about. And that was you, so happy birthday, Georgie!”

George felt a strange warmth flood through him, almost overwhelming. He blinked back the sudden threat of tears. “Thank you,” he managed to say, placing a steady hand on your thigh as if trying to ground himself in the moment.

You smiled brightly, appreciating the bond that had grown between you over the years. “No problem! I forgot to mention the ridiculous pictures of you that are also getting posted, thanks to Lewis,” you giggled, already anticipating his reaction.

“Lewis?” His expression quickly morphed from touched to mortified. “What kind of ridiculous pictures? Please tell me they’re not the ones from the summer at the beach 3 years ago! You know that I was just being silly!”

“You mean the ones where you tried to do a backflip and ended up in the sand instead?” You laughed harder, clutching your stomach.

“Oh yes, those are definitely included! But wait until you see the one where you’re trying to get the seaweed off your shorts. Priceless.”

“You’re very lucky I love you,” he sighed, so softly that you almost missed it among the haze of laughter.

Both of you froze, caught off guard by the shift in atmosphere that hung in the air.

“Did you mean that?” you asked after an agonizingly long pause, your voice barely above a whisper.

George’s blue eyes widened, and for a split second, his expression was a mix of surprise and vulnerability. He nodded slowly, swallowing hard, his gaze dropping to the ground as if searching for answers in the fallen leaves.

“I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t plan to say it,” he trailed off, his voice hesitant and soft, almost as if he were afraid of how the truth would change everything.

You smiled, trying to ease the nervousness that had settled between you like an invisible barrier. “Never seen you look at me like that before, Georgie.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, the unmistakable hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “What do you mean? Like… what? How am I supposed to look at you?”

His sudden defensiveness sent a flicker of amusement through you, but you moved an inch closer, wanting to make the moment lighter, yet also more profound.

“Like it’s the first time you’ve really seen me,” you teased, watching as he avoided your eyes. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” you continued, the glint in your eye coaxing him back to the conversation.

“I—” George opened his mouth, then closed it as though battling with unspoken thoughts. “I… just thought I could keep things light between us. You know? Friends and all.”

“Friends?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “That’s a convenient excuse, isn’t it? Especially when I can see how much you want to kiss me.”

George’s breath hitched, a faint blush creeping back into his cheeks. But instead of stepping back into his comfort zone of playful banter, he shifted closer until there was barely any space left.

This was how your flirting had always worked—tease, blush, repeat—but something was different this time.

His hand moved from your thigh up to your waist, fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress, pulling you slightly toward him. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m not the George from two years ago,” he muttered, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and searching. His voice was lower now, a tone that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

“Then prove it to me,” you teased back, though your heart raced at the challenge slipping from your lips.

In one swift move, he closed the distance and crashed his lips onto yours. It was a kiss fueled by two years’ worth of unspoken feelings, shared moments, and all the times you had skirted around this very confession.

Your heart soared as you melted into him, every nerve in your body ignited with warmth.

But just as you began to lose yourself completely, a burst of cheers jolted you both back to reality. You pulled away, breathless, and looked around to see George’s family and friends engulfing you in applause.

“Finally!” Lando shouted from the crowd, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Took you long enough!”

Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you felt a rush of embarrassment wash over you. Bursting with a mix of exhilaration and vulnerability, you buried your face in George’s neck, hiding from the teasing eyes that surrounded you.

“I can’t believe we just kissed in front of everyone,” you murmured, your voice muffled.

“Let’s not get shy now,” George chuckled, rubbing your back in gentle circles. “We have to finish what we started.”

A playful smile danced on your lips as you looked up at him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish because I will make out with you in front of everyone right now, Georgie.”

His gaze brightened with playful challenge, “Be my guest; I would love that.” He narrowed his eyes as if daring you.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. “You know they’ll probably get their phones out, and then it will go viral,” you said, your heart pounding in anticipation, a knot of excitement mixing with a sprinkle of embarrassment.

“Let them! I’m ready to show the world,” George declared, his confidence shining through.

You laughed, feeling surprisingly emboldened by his words. “Alright then, you asked for it!”

You leaned in, a smirk plastered across your face, but George grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, capturing your lips once more.

The kiss was soft and tender at first, but as the moment embraced you both, it deepened into something more passionate, filled with the promise of everything that had been left unsaid.

Somewhere in the background, Lando exaggeratedly whistled. “Get a room, you two!”

The sounds of laughter grew louder, but you hardly noticed as your world shrank to just the two of you. Every cheer from George’s family, every sidelong glance from friends, faded into a gentle hum.

When you finally pulled away once again, breathless and slightly dazed, George’s eyes sparkled with happiness.

“Wow,” you said breathlessly, your cheeks flushed. The cheers turned into supportive whoops, filling the backyard with positive energy that felt like pure joy.

“Are you sure you’re not just going to run away? Because if you leave me here to face them alone, I might seriously regret this,” he said with a teasing wink, attempting to lighten the mood.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you nudged him gently. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Georgie. I’m here to stay, for better or for worse.”

“Good,” he said, pulling you into a side hug, “because I’ve spent way too long waiting for that kiss. I’m not about to let you run away again.”

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