#george russell x oc

[futurewdclandonorris]

Friends Don't | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: you go out to celebrate George's home race win, not even imagining what the night will bring

Warnings: smut, drunk driving, unprotected sex

A/N: you will maybe have to necessarily read part 1 and part 2 hehe. For the sake of the plot, we'll pretend some things already happened. I've spent the whole week writing this and only got it to all click together from the third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? But at least had a blast while editing, which is a rarity. I actually enjoy writing these 'chapters' and building this world sm <3

Sundays were a day for rest and relaxation. A day for sitting down with a good book and a cup of coffee. A day for cuddling up with a loved one and watching a movie. A day for taking some time for yourself; a day to reflect and recharge.

That was, of course, unless your best friend was George Russell. And that your Sundays didn't consist of spending most weekends a year at different race tracks around the world. Not all of them, but you tried to be there for him at least once or twice a month, as much as the opportunity allowed.

That afternoon, George took the checkered flag in Silverstone in P1 and now you were in your room, preparing for tonight's celebration. The victory party was going to be wild, and you knew it. You had seen how George celebrated previous wins, and tonight was going to be no different. Especially because it was his home race.

You took a deep breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. You had dressed to impress, wearing a sparkly blue dress that fit you perfectly. Finishing your look with a pair of strappy heels and a silver necklace, you couldn't help but think about how previous events with George brought you even closer together.

Your friendship kind of became more... intimate. No pun intended. Guess you were both afraid not to lose each other over the past experiences, and that deepened your bond whether either of you wanted to admit or not. Now your only fear was that your closeness wouldn't tear you apart.

A soft knock pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see George standing at the door with a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair tousled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice low and husky. "Ready to party?"

Never before have you paid any mind to the nicknames he called you, but now a thrill ran down your spine. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world.

"I am," you said, smiling at him.

As you stepped out of the door, George took your hand in his and led you to the car waiting outside. The drive to the club was short, but the anticipation was high. The party was in full swing when you arrived; loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

George led you to the VIP section where his friends and family were already celebrating. You saw his siblings and a few of his close racing buddies. You could hear their loud cheering as they saw George walk in with you and feel the envious glares of the other women in the room.

George handed you a glass of champagne and raised his own in a toast. "To the best damn team in the world," he said, looking at you and his friends.

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it go down smoothly. The night was young, and the energy in the room was electric.

The party kept going on as the night deepened, and the noise of the songs blasted through the room. Glasses were filled up with drinks constantly, making it more of an effort to ignore the effects of the booze. You found yourself on the dance floor, surrounded by George and his friends. The bass of the music throbbed in your chest, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm.

Throughout the night, each person had a chance to take their turn with you on the dance floor, and eventually you were spinning around in George's arms. The heat of the club mixed with the buzz of the alcohol made your skin flush against his. You could feel his muscles flexing as he twirled you around, his hand firmly holding onto yours. The closer you danced, the more the tension between you grew.

For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was watching. You moved on him like it was just the two of you in the world, your hands moving over his body like never before, and hips swaying in perfect synchronicity. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on your neck, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses. You felt yourself getting lost in him, and something stirred inside you.

And it seemed like George caught up on your odd behavior as the song faded away. He grabbed your arm and started leading you away from the dance floor until you reached a quiet corner. But your drunken mind wasn't understanding his intentions.

You threw yourself onto him and he had to secure your hips with his hands to stop you from slipping. You let out a hazy chuckle as you started grinding against him once more before he pushed you back against the wall.

"Stop it, that's not why I brought you here."

But you didn't listen. You pulled yourself even closer, letting your lips brush against his neck. "Then why did you bring me here?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, your breath tickling his skin. "The drinks have gone to your head. I brought you here to take a break and cool off a little." he avoided telling you that you were drunk and not acting like yourself, afraid to provoke any unnecessary argument between you two.

Still, you weren't paying any attention. You were too inebriated to realize that your behavior was a little out of character, and you certainly weren't considering the consequences of your actions. You clasped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him again.

George tried to keep a respectable distance between you, pushing his hip backwards as you pushed yours forward, fighting the urge to get too close. That got you into an interesting position; you were leaning against the wall in between his arms with your shoulders as he leaned into you with his upper body. Your hand naughtily ran down his side, poking him. You knew you probably shouldn't touch him, but you couldn't stop yourself. His muscles strained as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're getting awfully close to me," he murmured, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. His fingers slowly slid from their grip on the wall.

"Then don't push me away," you said back.

His face was just inches away now, and your lips unconsciously moved closer. The atmosphere between you two was thick with anticipation, a feeling that you currently relished in. Your lips were only a breath away from his when he spoke.

"We can't." his eyes locked with yours.

"Why?" you asked breathily.

"Because we're best friends." his voice was barely a whisper.

He hoped the reason he gave you would remind you of everything you asked from him that first time. But he didn't tell you that he feared you'd regret it when you sobered up, and that it would be his fault for not stopping it.

"And?" in the state that you were, did he really think that would stop you? He couldn't have been more wrong. You wanted to push him to feel something. Anything. "Best friends can do a lot of things." you smirked.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes still on yours. "No, they can't." he gritted, shaking his head.

"You're right." you said, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "They can't do this." and your hips finally met his.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay level headed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said in desperation, his hands pressed flat on the wall behind you, trying their best not to touch you as they dangerously started slipping down.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your palms as you glided them down his torso. "Remember how you said you can read my body language?"

"Yeah," he breathed, nodding his head.

"What is it telling you now?" you whispered against his lips.

"It's telling me we're going to be in big trouble if you don't stop this," he replied. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"Then don't fight it. Show me." you murmured.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours. Your arms snaked around his neck and fingers twined through the hair at its nape, pulling him closer. You couldn't believe that you had done all those other things, but never kissed. And when ultimately his mouth closed on yours, it was like finally locating the elusive jigsaw piece on a seemingly ordinary Tuesday while tidying up your home that you thought had been lost forever. It made you almost not want to kiss anyone else ever again — almost, because deep down you knew you shouldn't have been doing this in the first place.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his head tilted to get a better angle. The kiss was soft, tentative, like both of you were very aware of what might happen. You pressed your mouth against his more firmly, tasting him. Parting your lips slightly, you felt the silky wetness of his tongue on yours. You bit his lower lip, letting out a deep moan when he groaned in response, hands that were in his hair tugging on the strands slightly. He groaned into your mouth again, pulling you even closer against him. You had no idea how long you were kissing, but it was definitely not enough.

The kiss broke, and you leaned your face against his neck, panting heavily. He glanced down at you, his lips so close to yours that if you had merely lifted your head, they'd be touching again. The warmth emanating from your body made him want to do things he knew he shouldn’t. He placed his forehead against yours, trying desperately to get control of himself.

"We should get back." he said between breaths. Your head was spinning from the alcohol and his scent and the magical kiss, it took you a moment to realize you were no longer kissing him. You opened your eyes and met with him.

"We should, before they realize we're missing." you nodded. He frowned, but his eyes were smiling. He was relieved, but he was also worried for you and what tomorrow might bring when you sobered up.

"Lets go," he said, turning around, but kept an arm around your waist so as to not let you get lost. You looped one arm around his neck, holding onto his shoulder, and gently hit his other shoulder with your head.

The night was still young and the party was still going. Music was playing, people were dancing, and laughter filled the room. Your friends cheered when they saw you two come in together, but neither of you paid any attention to them; all that mattered was that you were here, with him. Guys grabbed drinks for the both of you from different parts of the room and put it in your hands.

You found a spot on the couch and George sat next to you, his arm around your waist protectively. The conversations flowed easily between you two, and soon enough you both forgot what had happened earlier as you joined the rest of the group in drinking, singing along with music and laughing.

He later found you on the dance floor swaying around completely out of rhythm with a drink in your hand. Your face lit up when you saw him.

"There you are, my champion." you leaned into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"I won the race, not the championship.” he chuckled.

“Mm, don’t care. To me you are the champion.” you slurred, pouting.

“Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, supporting you.

"Mmhmm." you mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." you could hear the frown on his face. "You're drunk." he spat as he attempted to take away the half empty glass from your grasp.

"I'm not." you said, feeling yourself lose your balance a little as you swayed back and forth. He put his arm around you to help you balance.

"Yes, you are. I should've taken you home the first time around." he sighed, somehow not surprised you managed to get even drunker. You were both intoxicated for that matter, it's just that George knew how to hold his liquor. And he looked to never go over his limit in case something like this happened.

"No." you tried to pull away from him.

"I'm taking you home." he tightened his grip around you, leading you out of the party. You mumbled something in response, not quite sure what you were saying.

He helped you into his car and buckled your seat belt for you, before getting in himself. He drove slowly, carefully navigating the roads while you were almost passed out in his passenger seat. Every now and then he'd take a hand off the wheel to reach over and brush your hair away from your face or wipe away a stray tear from your cheek if one escaped your eye. As he turned into your street and parked the car, your eyes fluttered open.

"Um, could you walk me to the door?" you asked.

"I was planning on it," he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

Both of your arms wrapped around his left one, holding on for support, as he walked you to your apartment. Your little nap helped clear the haze from your head, but you were still tipsy. When you reached the entrance of your flat, you propped yourself against the door and blinked up at him.

"Do you want to come inside?" inviting your best friend into your home have never before seemed more dangerous and George should've known better than to say yes.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you asked to break an awkward silence that fell among you the moment he shut the door.

Before even waiting for his answer, you made your way towards the kitchen, but he extended his arm and grabbed your waist, preventing you from moving further.

"I think we both had enough to drink tonight," he said.

"Then what do you want to do?" you whispered.

"I want to claim my prize." he must have had a few more drinks than usual at the club to summon up the courage for that sentiment.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, the alcohol still fogging your mind but not enough to miss the implication of his words. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. His hand still rested on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your dress.

"Is that what I am, a prize?"

"No, no." he said quickly, his eyes softening. "You're so much more than that, you know that." his hand cupped the side of your face. "When I saw you looking up at me on the podium today, I realized I couldn't have done it without you. You were the one who had been cheering me on from the sidelines all this time. You've been there for me when no one else was." he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You've been my lucky charm all these years and I want to show you how much you mean to me."

The way he was looking at you made your chest heave with a mixture of emotions. You were both under the influence, and you knew this was not the best time to make decisions, but you couldn't resist him. You leaned in and attached your lips together again, only this time with more passion, more desire. You could feel his hands running through your hair as he kissed you back, his tongue playing with yours, his body pressing against yours.

He pulled away, looking at you with a hunger you had never seen before. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to say anything. His lips crashed onto yours, hungrily claiming your mouth as his own. Your body responded to his touch, your hands roaming over his chest and tangling in his hair. He lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. Climbing on top of you, his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. You moaned softly, your hands gripping tightly onto his muscular back. He pulled his lips away from you, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

You nodded, reaching up and pulling him back down. He gently kissed you again and you responded in kind, but he pulled away again.

"I'll stop if you tell me to." he whispered. "I don't want to do this unless you want to." 

"I want to." you murmured. The alcohol may have distorted your judgment, but it surely helped your courage.

"Are you sure?" he asked a third time. You laughed softly, trying to push him off. He had you pinned to the mattress, still pressing you down.

"Yes, I'm sure." you said, no longer laughing.

That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you hard, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of your dress. He ran his hands underneath, gently resting them on your ribs, and pulled your dress upwards. You lifted your hands above your head, freeing him of the task of removing your dress as you squiggled out of it and freed yourself from the restriction that was your dress.

He kissed you again, letting his hands run over your bare skin. His lips kissed down your throat and chest, his hands undoing your bra. He pulled it away and tossed it aside, taking in the sight of you.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. You blushed, and he smiled. His lips traveled down your leg, gently caressing the outside of your thigh. "But I'm a little jealous, you know?" his lips traveled back up, his tongue tracing over the slope of your breast and hands kneading them softly. "You got to taste me, and I..."

He kissed his way down your body, his hands going over every inch of exposed skin, reminding you how skillfully he handled you that very first time. He reached your inner thigh and slid his hand underneath your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his fingers brush against you before a long finger slid inside you. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs apart for him. He smiled against your neck, his teeth taking in your skin, his tongue leaving a trail of fire behind.

His finger slowly moved inside you, circling you before sliding in and out. His hand pulled your underwear down, you kicking them off to the side. His mouth moved down your figure, hovering over your breasts. He teased you for a moment, blowing against your nipples before drawing the tip of his tongue over one. He did the same with the other, his fingers never ceasing to move. His kisses continued further down, over your stomach until they reached your mound.

"Can I?" he asked, peeking at you.

"Please..." you tried to hide the shake in your voice.

His tongue slid between your lips, gently licking you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. He teased you, his tongue circling your clit before sliding inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, his hands holding your thighs apart. You spread your legs even wider, your body arching up to him. He leaned in, gently sucking on your clit and you moaned loudly, his tongue moving faster. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against his face.

You were nearing your end, your moans growing louder with every movement of his tongue. You could feel his lips smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. You cried out, your body tensing as you came, shaking against him. He pulled away, slowly kissing his way up to the top again. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not hurrying you up as you sucked in his bottom lip, squeezing out your own juices.

"Taking that trophy is the second best thing that has ever happened to me." he whispered. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "The first, of course, being you. You're my greatest reward." he continued as you trailed kisses down his neck, removing the shirt off his shoulders.

"Stop talking, George."

"Sorry," he whispered as he closed his eyes, surrendering above you.

You kissed his chest, your nails raking up and down his sides, feeling his muscles tense. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and could sense the urgency in his touch. His hardness pressed against you, begging to be liberated. You pulled away from him, reaching for his belt buckle and his eyes shot open, hands reaching for yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. He knew if you go any further there would be no going back and some irreversible things would be done.

"Are you sure?" you asked back, smiling mischievously. "I thought this is what you wanted." your nail dangerously circled around his lower abdomen, causing his breath to hitch with every word he spoke.

"I-I do. I'm just making sure you're not doing it just because I want it." you could tell he was really struggling to hold himself back.

"I think we've already established that..." you whispered against his lips and prompted your body more to his.

"Okay," his hand moved away from yours, and you undid his belt.

His pants fell around his feet and he kicked them off. His boxers were the last thing left, and you reached for them, slowly pulling them down. His hand held the back of your head as he kissed you, his tongue twirling around yours. You moved to pull away but he held on tighter.

His boxers hit the floor and you looked up at him, his hands resting on your frame. Gently taking your hand, he placed it on his dick. You gasped, feeling it grow even more underneath your touch. He pulled away, his lips planting kisses down your neck as his hand guided yours up and down his length. You felt him shiver as you grazed the tip with your nails, his breath hitching. He removed his hand, and your eyes shot open when you felt his tip brush against your entrance.

He teased you, running it up and down your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, your back arching against him. The more he prolonged what you needed the most, the more your neediness grew. You tried to guide him inside you but he resisted, placing a finger on your lips instead. He dragged it over them before he made you suck on it, his eyes never leaving your face as he blew a stream of air out. Your eyes widened when you felt his head brush against you again, making you gasp audibly, his name falling from your lips.

"Please," you remembered what he told you the first time he had you in his arms like this. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please..." you chanted over and over again.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. Hearing you beg for him made his head spin again. It was like you'd put him under a spell every time you'd utter that word and he'd not be able to deny you anything. Not that he ever wanted.

He slowly pushed inside of you, stopping at every inch to wait for you to adjust. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to move again. He kissed you, your nails digging into his back as he stretched you more. He was so gentle, it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. This was not the normal rough, lustful sex. This was the man who loved the sight of you, the sounds of your pleasure. This was the man who wanted to make love to you, to show you what true pleasure was.

Your fingers sank into his back again, and he responded by thrusting into you harder, your moans getting louder. His lips traveled down your chest, his tongue flicking a nipple as he pushed into you again.

"Oh, god." you moaned, George's name falling from your mouth repeatedly. Your hands dug into the sheets as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"You feel so good... so damn good," he kissed your skin. "Making me feel like I don't ever want to take anybody else again."

"Don't stop, please, whatever it is that you're doing, please, just don't stop." you cried, twining your legs around him to press him deeper.

He moaned in pleasure when you did, his hands tightening their grip around you. His breathing grew heavier and faster, your bodies reacting to each other. He was so close, and he could feel you held right on the edge.

You cried out his name, your form shuddering under him. He had no intention of stopping, and he continued his movements as you kept shaking, your voice loud enough to wake up the whole apartment complex.

"You, George, only you…" you whispered into his ear as you were coming down.

You felt his whole build shake, his cock pulsing inside of you, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to hear him as he climaxed. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, the sweetest song in the world.

"George… George…" you panted, your breathing coming out in jagged breaths.

He cursed, as his body trembled with pleasure. His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he came. You buried your face in his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. He kissed you, holding you close to him. He wanted to stay inside you forever, to feel the sight of your face as he pleased you. You did that to him. You were the one making him see another reality where only he and you existed.

But he pulled away, your eyes searching for his as you slowly came back to reality. He kissed you again, his lips landing on yours.

"That was amazing… you were amazing…" he whispered, stroking your face gently.

"So were you." you said back, playing with the bangs that fell over his forehead.

He rested his head on your chest, finding a comfortable spot, your hands moving into his hair.

"Are you going to stay?" you whispered, uncertain.

"Only if you want me to."

"Always."

He hugged you tightly and rolled over so that you were now on top of him. His fingers softly ran along your back as your body let go and fully relaxed. The peaceful sound of your heartbeats and his breath seemed to take over the room. You drew near to him, feeling the up and down movements of his chest gently rock you to sleep, matters of your friendship left for tomorrow's morning news.

Next part

[henryrussell63]

That’s the last time Toto lets me use the radio!

[thatsdemko]

junipers dad- g.russell

pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader

fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)

requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”

a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!

f1updates

liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.

f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️

400 comments

f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!

charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated

alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters

princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!

—

he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?

“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.

“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.

“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”

—

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.

georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off

509 comments

albon_pets: 🐱❤️

maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!

lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends

mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties

—

“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”

“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.

albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute

britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close

he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”

you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.

“if this will make you happy, then why not?”

—

f1gossiplover

liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.

f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!

300 comments

hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter

gaslycharles: too short to be George

gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him

—

“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.

you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.

“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.

“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”

you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”

—

y/nalbon

liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.

y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63

300 comments

albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!

georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!

roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?

mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?

williamsracing: not on our watch!

lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?

alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers

tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt

[the-offside-rule]

George Russell (Mercedes AMG) - Gentleman

Requested: yes

F1 Baby Promptlist

Warnings: none

The sun was setting over Monaco, painting the picturesque streets in hues of gold and pink. George expertly navigated the narrow roads, his signature smile lighting up his face as he glanced in the rearview mirror. In the backseat, their toddler, Oliver, was busy humming a tune and swinging his little legs. Y/n turned her head to check on their son, her hand resting gently on George’s arm as he brought the car to a stop outside their apartment building. The sleek vehicle purred as George cut the engine.

"Well, we’re home." George announced, unbuckling his seatbelt and glancing over at Y/n, who was already reaching for her door handle. "Wait, Mummy!" Oliver’s tiny voice piped up, his face scrunched in determination. Before Y/n could open her door, Oliver was wriggling out of his car seat. "Oliver, what are you-" She began, but the little boy was already scrambling out of his side, his hands moving faster than his legs could follow. George chuckled, stepping out of the car and watching as his son hurried around the front.

"Mummy, wait!" Oliver shouted again, his small hand reaching for the passenger door handle. His chubby fingers gripped it tightly as he pulled with all his might. The door creaked open, and there stood Oliver, his face glowing with pride. "I got it for you, Mummy!" Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, her heart melting at the sight. She stepped out carefully, crouching down to Oliver’s level. "Well, aren’t you a proper little gentleman?" She teased, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Oliver beamed, puffing out his chest. "Daddy says we both need to help you since you have a baby in your belly now." He declared, looking up at George for approval. Y/n’s heart melted instantly. She glanced over at George, who was leaning against the car with a sheepish grin. "Did you now?" She teased. George shrugged, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just teaching him to be a gentleman."

Y/n smiled down at Oliver, placing her hand gently on his head. "Well, thank you, Ollie. That’s very thoughtful of you." Taking his tiny hand in hers, she stepped out of the car carefully, making sure her balance was steady. Oliver held onto her hand tightly, as if determined to protect her and the baby. George walked over, placing a hand on Y/n’s back as they started toward the elevator. "You’ve got quite the helper now." He said softly. "I do." Y/n agreed, squeezing Oliver’s hand gently. "And I couldn’t be prouder of him."

Oliver looked up at her with wide, happy eyes. "I’ll help you every day, Mummy. Promise!" Y/n laughed, her heart swelling with love. "I know you will, my little gentleman."

[lecsainz]

paddock encounters

pairings: toto wolff x daughter!reader / ollie bearman x wolff!reader / lewis hamilton x wolff!reader / george russell x wolff!reader / paul aron x wolff!reader

warnings: bumps in the paddock, lewis and george being like older brothers to Y/N and paul being the friend everyone has.

authors note: i just wanted to write something about ollie so that's it.

word count: 986

Y/N Wolff was sitting in the back seat of the car, on her way to the British Grand Prix at Silverstone with her dad, Toto Wolff, her stepmom, Susie, and her little brother Jack. As they drove through the English countryside, they chatted excitedly about the race ahead.

"So, Y/N, who are you rooting for today?" asked Toto, glancing back at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

"I don't know," replied Y/N with a shrug. "I guess I'll be happy as long as a Mercedes driver wins."

Susie chuckled. "You're biased, Y/N. But I can't blame you for that. It's in the family DNA."

Jack piped up from his car seat. "I want Lewis to win! He's my favorite!"

Y/N smiled indulgently at her little brother. "Lewis is pretty awesome, isn't he?"

Just then, the car pulled into the parking lot at Silverstone. As they got out of the car and made their way towards the paddock, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This was her world, the world of formula 1.

As they walked through the paddock, Y/N spotted George Russell and Lewis Hamilton, the two Mercedes drivers, chatting with some fans. She grinned and waved at them, and they waved back.

"Hey, guys!" called Y/N, running over to them. "How's it going?"

"Good, good," replied Lewis with a smile. "Excited for the race?"

"You know it," said Y/N, grinning. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

George Russell chuckled. "You're a true petrolhead, Y/N. You're going to end up working in this sport someday."

Y/N blushed slightly at the compliment. "Maybe I will. It's always been my dream."

As they chatted, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. These were her people, the drivers, the fans, the mechanics, the journalists. She had grown up in this world, and it felt like home.

She wandered around the paddock, taking in the sights and sounds of the British Grand Prix. As Y/N turned a corner, she bumped into someone and stumbled back.

"Oh, sorry about that." said Y/N, looking up to see a tall, lanky guy with curly hair.

"No problem," said the guy, smiling. "I'm Ollie."

"I'm Y/N," said Y/N, returning the smile. "Nice to meet you."

They stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"So, are you a fan of the sport?" asked Ollie, gesturing towards the track.

Y/N nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I grew up in the world of f1. My dad's the boss of the Mercedes team."

"Wow, that's cool." said Ollie, looking impressed. "I'm actually a driver myself. I race in formula 2 for Prema and the Ferrari Academy."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "No way! That's amazing. I haven't really followed f2 that closely, but maybe I should start."

Ollie chuckled. "Yeah, maybe you should. We're the future of the sport, you know."

Y/N grinned. "I wouldn't doubt it. So, are you excited for your race later?"

Ollie nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. It's my home race, so I'm hoping for a good result."

Y/N smiled. "Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for you. Good luck!"

"Thanks." said Ollie, waving as he walked away.

As Y/N watched him go, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. When she walked away, Lewis and George spotted her from a distance and exchanged knowing looks.

"Looks like our little Y/N has made a new friend." said Lewis with a smirk.

George chuckled. "Yeah, I bet Toto will be thrilled to hear that she's talking to one of the Ferrari Academy drivers."

Toto, who had been standing nearby, overheard their conversation and raised an eyebrow. "What are you two going on about?"

Lewis and George turned to face him, still wearing amused expressions. "Oh, just that Y/N's been chatting up Ollie Bearman." said Lewis.

Toto looked surprised. "Really? I didn't even know she knew who he was."

George shrugged. "Well, I don't think she did. But she seems to have taken a liking to him."

Lewis grinned. "Maybe we should start calling her 'Ferrari Girl' instead of 'Mercedes Girl'."

Toto shook his head, chuckling. "You two are ridiculous. Let's just hope that this new friendship doesn't distract her too much from her schoolwork."

As they walked away, Toto couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at how well Y/N had integrated into the world of f1. He knew that she had a bright future ahead of her, and he couldn't wait to see where her passion for the sport would take her.

A few days had passed since Y/N had met Ollie in the paddock, but she couldn't stop thinking about him. She had even asked Lewis and George if they knew anything about him, but they had just teased her about her crush.

One day, she was talking with Paul Aron, another driver in the Prema and Mercedes Academy programs. They were discussing the latest f1 race when Y/N brought up Ollie.

"You know Ollie Bearman, right?" she asked Paul.

Paul nodded. "Yeah, we've crossed paths a few times. He's a pretty cool guy."

"He seemed really nice when I talked to him." said Y/N. "Do you happen to have his phone number or something?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Why do you want his number?"

Y/N blushed. "I don't know, I just thought it would be cool to talk to him again. He seemed really interesting."

Paul chuckled. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. No promises, though."

A few days later, Ollie received a message from an unknown number. It was Y/N.

Y/N: “Hey, it's Y/N. Paul gave me your number. How's it going?”

Y/N's heart raced as he replied.

Ollie: “Hey, it's going well! How about you?”

And so began a new chapter in Y/N's life - a friendship (or maybe something more?) with Ollie Bearman. She didn't know where it would lead, but she was excited to find out.

[vroomvroommuppett]

four

andrew garfield x ex!wolff oc & george russell x wolff!oc

taglist

masterlist

kofi

pateron

send an ask or reblog to tell me what you think, and/or what you think could happen

likes, reblogs and comments are encouraged!

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ellawolffprivate

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintlmeux, and others

ellawolffprivate bean you are so loved

maxverstappen1 Awwwww soft Ella

ellawolffprivate you want to try again, maximillian? maxverstappen1 no ma'am continue as you were georgerussell63 She hasn't had her one cup of caffeine yet. ellawolffpriavate and where is it? georgerussell63 Line is taking forever.

alexandrasaintlmeux next race we need to go shopping for baby clothes

ellawolffprivate and maternity clothes. i can't go to races in sweats flavy.barla yes!! francisca.cgomez count me in! lilymhe yes please! lilyznemier i wasn't going to be at that one but now i will oscarpiastri Wow. Ditched by my own girlfriend. ellawolffprivate don't take it personal, pastry. she loves me more charles_leclerc I've just learned to accept it estebanocon Same pierregasly Me three alex_albon Same ellawolffprivate at least you know your places

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ellawolff

liked by alexwarren, mercedesamgf1, and others

ellawolff so excited to announce one of my projects! thank you alex for letting me choreograph and be in it! (she's the girl in the thumbnail)

tagged: alexwarren

alexwarren Thank you for being in it and choreographing!

user1 this is amazing!

user2 what can't she do?

mercedesamgf1 THATS OUR MINI BOSS

alex_albon Amazing!

flavy.barla YES ELLA!

estebanocon This is so good!

susiewolff Proud of you honey!

ellawolff thank you mom

lilymhe ooh you need to teach us a dance!

ellawolff let me get through the pregnancy and yes i will

alexandrasaintlmeux wifey

ellawolff only one for me charles_leclerc She's my girlfriend ellawolff but my wife

georgerussell63 So proud!

ellawolff thanks georgie poo georgerussell63 Not my name.

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tag list @raizelchrysanderoctavius @swiftholic-13 @sya-skies @barcelonaloverf1life @formulaal @ilivbullyingjeongin @daemyratwst @stupid---person @obsessed-fan-alert @boiohboii @novelswithariana @nichmeddar @magical-spit @lady-laura-speaks @2pagenumb @motorsp0rt @dark-night-sky-99 @daemyratwst @callsignwidow @d3kstar @exotic-iris13 @xoscar03 @eternalharry @that-aesthetic-chic

[sebscore]

Came from ur fem!driver HCs and now I have ideas:

- The origin story of George’s ‘Russy Bussy’ nickname🤣

- Y/N hazing Oscar, Nyck and Logan in Abu Dhabi because as Valterri says, ✨traditions✨

- Y/N and Pierre gossiping abt Piastrigate w/ Yuki, Zhou and Charles (cuz oh my lordy-ord THE DRAMAFEST that was the summer break and Seb’s retirement😭)

THE ORIGIN OF RUSSY BUSSY

pairing: george russell x driver!reader / alex albon x driver!reader / lando norris x driver!reader

warnings: the word “bussy” 😭

author's note: i mean everything you need to know is in the title :) yes, this is a reference to that one eric name tweet from 2019! tysm to the anon for the requests!!

• • • • • • •

''Did you see what George tweeted earlier?'' Alex asked her while they waited for the rest of the grid to arrive at the driver's briefing.

Y/N shook her head. ''No, why?''

Alex simply chuckled and pulled out his phone, opening the Twitter app and typing in George's username. He laughed once again, before showing the tweet in question to her.

GeorgeRussell63: New race week! Let's get busssy everyone!

Y/N's jaw dropped, in shock that the Brit actually had posted that on his official and very public Twitter account. ''You know for a guy that likes to correct my grammar, he sure does make a lot of spelling mistakes.''

''I don't think he's realized yet what it means.'' The Williams driver told her, putting his phone back in his pocket.

''Hey, guys.'' Lando took the seat next to his female friend, sighing as he sat down. ''What are you two talking about?''

''George's bussy.''

The three bursted out laughing, gathering some confused looks from the other drivers in the room. Lando seemed to immediately understand what they were referring to.

''I thought I was the only one that noticed.'' He said, trying to calm himself down.

''I was gonna tweet something back at him, but I didn't want people to make fun of the fact that I know what it means.'' Alex explained.

Lando and Y/N nodded at his words, understanding that fans can remember these things for years to come. ''I wanna see his face the moment he finds out what it means.'' She said, rubbing her hands together like a villain would when creating their masterplan.

''Me too, it's gonna be hilarious, our Russell George.''

''Should we let him figure it out on his own or do we tell him?'' Alex asked, debating if they should explain the meaning to him.

Y/N shook her head. ''He should figure it out on his own, maybe with a bit of our help though.'' The mischief in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by Lando and Alex, the two already started to grin.

As if on queue, George and Lewis walked into the room, and briefly greeted everyone. George was about to sit down next to Sebastian, but he was quickly interrupted from doing that.

''Hey, Russy Bussy! Come sit with us!'' Y/N called him over, a teasing smirk present on her face.

The nickname caused some stifled laughter in the room, particularly from Pierre, Daniel, Lando and Alex. Meanwhile George awkwardly looked around as he made his way over to them.

''Hi, guys.'' He sat down next to Alex, a puzzled look on his face.

Lando briefly took a glimpse at Y/N before speaking. ''You guys are later than usual, you had a bussy morning?'' He asked, trying his best to not start cackling.

''Yeah, we had to film something with the team…'' George hesitantly answered, totally unaware what they were laughing about. ''Why are you saying busy like that?'' He asked the younger guy, putting his hand on his waist.

''Oh, isn't that how you say it?'' Alex said, feigning innocence. ''Yeah, or tweet it.'' Y/N added, having too much fun teasing the Mercedes driver.

''I can't follow, guys.'' George was visibly running out of patience with the teasing.

''Oh, crikey! He doesn't know what we are talking about.'' Y/N mimicked George's speech, continuing the mocking.

Alex was the one to cave in first. ''We're talking about your latest tweet, Russell.''

''What about it?'' He obviously still hadn't realized what had been so wrong with his spelling of the word 'busy'.

''You still don't know?'' Lando said wide-eyed, surprised George still hadn't been made aware of the entire thing.

''Know what?''

Lando and Alex turned to Y/N, pleading with their eyes that she explains it to him. She rolled her eyes, but succumbed.

''In your tweet it sounded like you said 'bussy' instead of 'busy', and let's say the two words have completely different meanings.'' She clarified.

George nodded, understanding the fault he made. ''Okay… then what does it mean?''

''With 'bussy' you're referring to a man's, uh, anus.''

They could see the gears turning in George's head, starting to comprehend why he received the reactions he did to what he assumed was a normal tweet. He had given the internet another reason to clown him for an entire season.

''Oh, good heavens!''

''But hey! Look at it from the bright side, your gay fans must be very happy right now!''

[37sommz-archive]

✼. GLORIOUS RED | 2018.

CH. 02. NOW PLAYING: florida!!! by taylor swift [angst]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela dreads the media, 1.2k.

✼.⠀JANUARY 17, 2018 — vicenza, italy

MICHAELA STRUGGLED TO CATCH HER BREATH AS THE SWEAT FROM HER BROW DIPPED INTO THE CORNER OF HER EYE. Her raggedy exhales bounced off the walls of the hotel gym, its emptiness a comfort to the 18-year-old driver more than frustrated with the increasing pressure and its all-consuming whirlpool. 

Ending her second season in Formula Two as the runner-up in the championship was more than motivating to the team that had risked everything to bring her on in the first place. Paradoxically, her success at the second tier had brought her more misfortune than good in her personal life. While the other male drivers got together to celebrate their measly finishes within the top ten, Michaela found herself taking a quick swig of champagne in the confines of her team’s garage. Between brief words to the unfriendly journalists that swarmed the paddock as if an infestation of negative coverage and the men on the grid who were less than appreciative of the space she took—their kind words, not hers—Michaela had too little time to indulge in the glitz of racing and too much time with her thoughts.

The echoes of her breath, as they hit the corners of the blue-gray walls, dizzied Michaela into a headache. Her left hand reached up to cradle her temple before she shook herself out of the dizzying, isolating thoughts. The very same thoughts that had led her to take her frustration out on the treadmill that continued to run between her resting legs. The only time Michaela’s mind provided a reprieve from its racing course was when she was running. Whether metaphorically, tucked away in her glorious red car, or literally, a desperate attempt to run her mind numb, running kept her from thinking and all the dread that accompanied it. 

Despite his best efforts, Travis Sommers couldn’t understand the dread that filled his niece the moment she stepped out of her car. With all the success she had found—that past season in particular—her silent restraint provided a concerning mismatch for him. Unable to break her out of it, Travis felt himself filled with an equal sense of dread that he couldn’t quite place. 

Stood in the hallway with a shoulder pressed against the grayish wall, Travis could only bring himself to watch Michaela run. Whether she was aware of his presence or not, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, he had resolved to be there for her when she grew weary of her running and sought the cool stillness of the water bottle he held between his tanned fingers; metaphorically and literally. 

✼.⠀APRIL 07, 2018 — sakhir, bahrain

“WONDERFUL FIRST RACE THIS SEASON, MICKEY.” 

The journalist, whoever he was, wore a crisp linen shirt underneath his identifying press badge. 

The curt smile and nod emitted from Michaela drew surprised glances from the rest of the drivers sitting along the panel. Her normal sunniness was replaced with a cold half-acknowledgment of the man hoping to ask her a question, the unusual darkness underneath her eyes drawing concerned tenses from George and Alex on either side of her. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as the man awkwardly waited for a verbal response from the Australian that never came. With a clear of his throat, he continued with bated breath.

“Going into the last few laps, you seemed to be in tune with your car-um, in a way, uh, with a quickness we don’t usually see from you until a few races in. So, between last season and now, where do you think you stand in comparison to the rest of the grid? And, uh-what could you attribute that comfort to?”

With a tilt of her head, the rest of the room turned their heads to await her response. 

“I don’t know if you’re all ready for me to answer that. Not honestly at least.” 

Her words, short and steady, cut across the room to reach the ears of the less-than-experienced man who stood in the center of the pressroom. The shock of the other drivers at her unlikely combativeness kept the room in an icy freeze before she spoke up once more. 

“As for comfort, maybe I’m just a better driver this season.” 

A twitch at the corner of her lip and a shrug of her shoulders reveal the true level of chilly indifference hidden beneath her normally warm exterior. 

“Is that- I don’t know… an asshole kind of thing to say?” 

Alex, the first one to break out of his trance, chuckled to himself. Warmth spread over his cheeks as he leaned into his microphone to humorously answer her musing. 

“A little, Mickey.” 

A simple purse of the Australian’s lips and another shrug of her shoulders cut the tense line between herself and the rest of the room. 

In the wings of the room, Travis shook his head as he cleared his throat in an attempt to shake Michaela from her stubborn chilliness. Despite the obvious tension on the mixed-race driver’s shoulders, another journalist took a shot at her. The gentle light of entitlement in his eyes was evident to Michaela even as she sat at the other side of the room. 

“Another question for Sommers,” He began, leaving no room for her to even begin to acknowledge his presence. “At this point in your career, there is no blueprint for your next steps considering—of course—that no other woman in history has won the way you have at level that you have. Do you think that you have surpassed the setbacks others of the same gender cannot seem to… rid themselves of?”

A soft “damn” picked up by a hot mic at one of the ends of the panel where Michaela sat center is the only discernable sound as Michaela stared into the eyes of the ambitious journalist. Beginning with a steadying breath, her eyes narrowed in cautious response. With a glance to her side, Travis’ hands signaled wildly in a futile attempt to calm the storm he knew was brewing within his concerningly broody niece.

“I don’t understand,” Her voice was embedded with a calmness that worried the drivers on the panel who knew her quite well. “Rid themselves? I don’t…” Her head shook slowly, eyes glued onto those of the man who asked the question.

“I mean, you seem more… well-adjusted to the natural pressures that come with motorsport competition. I’m not sure your female counterparts have come to terms with those pressures the way you have-that’s all.”

A clench of her jaw reveals the flare of her little-seen temper as it bubbled underneath the surface. It takes a furrow of her brows and a clear of her throat to set her temper before Michaela finally offers a short answer.

“With people like you running around with…” 

A brief pause in her words allowed for both George and Alex beside her to look down at their hands, feeling her unfamiliar, contained anger bubble over and radiated at their sides. 

“A heightened sense of self-importance, I don’t blame the girls that don’t want to deal with all the bullshit.” 

A short, “That’s all”, in mimicry of the journalist's prior words serves as a bridge to her next words, ones deceivingly less heated. 

“I think I’m done with this for today.” 

The flashes of the cameras laid out in front of the drivers all go off at once. An eagerness settled over the formerly tense room as Michaela rose from her seat, hands tearing at the microphone pinned to her red Prema Racing polo. The other drivers sat stunned in response to her rejection of their contractual media obligations, eyes tracking her figure as it retreated into the darkness of the offset hallways leading back to the garages.

✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. taglist:⠀@seaweed-orchid @BxdBxtxh @evie-119 @lavisenri @doodlehunz @thearchieves @pamacs-macs @hwalllllllelujah @thewannabewriter @d3kstar @nichmeddar @certifiedlesbianbaddie @cha-hot

[thewritingofspencerrose]

New Years Eve

George Russell x Alonso!Reader

camilaalonso_ bringing in the new year with those i love most 🤍

tagged georgerussell, fernandoalo_oficial, and amelierose

merc1fan love that we get a mercedes x aston crossover purely because alonso's daughter called george hot in one interview and he ran with it

lando norizz so, how is spending new years with your in-law georgie?

alex albono yeah, this is what? year two that you've spent with alonso right?

russell george we don't even know how this keeps happening cami and i just looked up and he was there he didn't even know we'd be at this party

sharl lechair i thought you were going to propose tonight?

russell george ...

alex albono she didn't say no did she??

lando norizz she wouldn't say no, she's been in love with him since we joined the grid

"Something on your mind Georgie?" I can't help but ask, noticing how he's been fiddling all night, now with his phone, even before we realized Papa was here.

"No, no, everything is okay, why do you ask?" is his question, eyes wide as they meet my own. "The boys were just asking how I always end up spending new years with your father," He jokes before I can even offer and answer.

And I can't help but laugh. How do we always end up with my father on this holiday?

"My father is a teenager in a 42 year old's body," is the explanation I can offer, him laughing and wrapping me in his arms, kissing the top of my head while the party continues around us.

"Can we step outside? Away from the chaos?" His whispers reach my ears, his breath hot against the side of my head.

"Yeah, of course, are you sure you're okay, mi coraźon? You look a little red?"

I reach up to feel his forehead, but he catches my hand, kissing my palm before linking our hands, his body creating the path for us as I follow.

It's cold outside, the snow on the ground emphasizing the time of year that we find ourselves in as the clock ticks closer to midnight.

15 minutes, that's all that stands between us and the new year.

I can't help but shiver, it's my favorite time of year yet my body will never adjust to the temperatures after living in Monaco for a couple years.

"Here," Georgie prompts, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over my shoulders. "Can't have you starting the new year with a cold, now can we Love?"

"Thank you," Is my whispered response, pulling him to lean over the railing, eyes set on the snowy expanse of the country club, what is golf greens in the summer now just a blanket.

I can feel George moving away and I miss the heat he offered by just being beside me, my personal furnace for the last three years.

"Cami?"

Turning around at my name, every thought is leaves my mind at the sight in front of me.

"Camila Jade Alonso," George begins again, down on one knee with a box in one hand, his other reaching out for my own. "You have allowed me to be by your side for three years, four if you count the year I spent trying to convince your father to let me be with you," He reminisces, the both of us chuckling at the memory of a 2021 George trying everything in his power to get 'the great Fernando Alonso' to even acknowledge him outside the track, let alone date his daughter.

"From the moment I met you, I knew you would be the most important person in my life, and I can say one thing with certainty. Amor, eres el amor de mi vida y quiero seguir amándote hasta el día de mi muerte. ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? (Love, you are the love of my life and I want to continue loving you until the day I die. Will you marry me?)"

I've been nodding for the last minute, tears rolling down my cheeks as I hold a hand over my mouth to stop my cries from interrupting his sweet words.

Georgie stands, thumb coming up to brush the tears from my face with a smile brighter than the nights fireworks.

"So would that be a yes?"

"En cada vida diría sí a ser tu esposa (in every lifetime i would say yes to being your wife)."

"Cami, my knowledge of Spanish extends enough to only cover the words in my proposal and the curse words your father calls me from time to time," He reminds with a laugh, although you can tell my lack of a verbal answer is making him anxious.

"George William Russell," I begin again, running my hand through his hair. "In every lifetime I would say yes to being your wife."

"I was hoping that was your answer," He whispers, taking my hand to place the ring on, both of us smiling brightly as he looks back up to my face, bringing me into a kiss.

"I love you George Russell."

"Te quiero mas Camila pronto a ser Russell (I love you more Camila soon-to-be Russell)."

russell george she didn't say no, i hadn't asked her yet you're talking to a newly engaged man, boys

[veevettel]

WAY BACK HOME SERIES

george russell x female lawyer!oc

started: DECEMBER 7TH 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: december 7th

taglist: [feel free to tell me so i can tag you and you don't miss anything!]

To everyone's eyes, Amelie Wagner's life seemed perfect. To her, however, it was quite the opposite.

Although her relationship with her family had not been the best since some of her life's canon events, including her father's death and her older sister's quite messy and controversial public life, things took a turn for the worse when she met Daniel during her university years. What began as just stopping by her aunt and uncle's house to spend the night gradually turned into sporadic visits, eventually ending up with her immediately moving in with her boyfriend after finishing university. This led to a growing distance between her, her sisters, and her aunt and uncle. Despite pleas and attempts to keep the family together from her sisters and the ones who were like her parents, their communication was limited to occasional birthday greetings, important holiday calls and, years later, the surprising announcement of a wedding that caught both the Müller-Wagner and the Vettel households off guard.

After spending a year and a half planning what she believed would be the best day of her life with the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with, Amelie realizes she’s not ready at all to say "I do," leading her to run away from her own wedding and leaving all the guests in shock.

Desperate, confused, and unsure whether she had made the right decision or what to do with her life from that moment on, the middle Wagner sister was determined to leave everything behind to regain what she had lost with the help of her family and, particularly, a British man with whom she must fake a relationship after drunkenly telling her ex-fiancé that he wasn’t the only one who found someone better.

MASTERLIST

PROLOGUE. After running away from her own wedding, Amelie doesn't know what to do until, once again, her big sister gives her some help, this time offering her to go with her and Seb to every single race on Formula 1 2022 season.

[futurewdclandonorris]

A Helping Hand | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: feeling frustrated, you go to George for some aid where he offers to help you blow off some steam

Warnings: smut

A/N: goodness, this is the most I've spent on proofreading, rewriting and editing than on any of my other fics, probably because I babied this idea for a long time 💀 and probably because I was sick for the past few days that I couldn't do anything else except thinking about George taking care of me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it 🥰

You were frustrated. The irritation was welling up inside you, and there was no telling why. And nothing going your way wasn’t helping either. But what it is that you always do whenever you feel like this?

You go to George.

George and you were best friends for as long as you could remember. He played enormous role in your life, in a way that you would often refer to him as an older brother. No one else even came close to being as important to you as he was. He was always there to listen when you needed to rant about something, and the two of you were just as comfortable sitting in silence as you were engaging in deep conversations. Today was no different.

You walked over to George's apartment, knowing that he wouldn't mind your unannounced visit. You knocked on the door and waited a few moments before he answered, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to vent about. The door opened, revealing George’s smiling face.

“Hey there, buddy,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “What’s got you so worked up?” he questioned upon seeing your slumped shoulders and frowning face.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just know I’m feeling a lot and it’s not good.” you walked further into his apartment, running a hand through your hair.

George followed behind you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, "I don't even know what's bothering me. I'm just feeling so damn… restless." and leaned against his kitchen bar.

George nodded his head, eyes fixed on your face. He knew that look and the manner in which you spoke. George had experienced this before with you. You would continue to speak until the words dried up, and he knew it was in his best interest to listen attentively. And he wanted to do just that. To be a friend and not interrupt for once your thoughts were drifting by. He loved the feeling of neediness you gave him.

So you started to spill your troubles. From everything that happened to you since you woke up to this very moment in the afternoon. He listened patiently, nodding and frowning in all the right places. You continued to talk, your words flowing out in a jumbled mess as you tried to make sense of your emotions. George listened intently, offering words of encouragement when needed. As you spoke, he moved closer to you.

It wasn’t a subtle move, you very much noticed him getting up and walking up to you, caging you in between his arms he rested on the counter behind you. He bowed his head so that his eyes were in level with yours and leaned forward, the words dying on your lips as he did so. Your faces were now only inches away, the air around you charged.

“When was the last time you got laid?” he asked.

You were taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. “W-What?”

He took a step back, giving you space to breathe. “You, my friend, are sexually frustrated.”

You hadn't been with anyone in a while, he was right, like he always was, but “And how do you know that?” there was annoyance in your voice as you crossed your arms.

He sat down in one of his kitchen chairs, leaning on the table behind and legs spread lightly.  “How long have we been friends for?”

“Almost twenty years. Why?” you frowned, not really seeing the point of this conversation.

He gave a slight nod in agreement. “And in that long period of time you think I wouldn’t have learned your,” his gaze traveled up your body until it finally settled on your eyes, “body language?” his tongue clicked.

You swallowed hard, feeling the atmosphere between you two shift. There was definitely an undercurrent of something more, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to go there just yet.

“This-That has nothing to do with this.” you choked out.

“So you’re saying,” he moved his head from side to side. “If I offered you a solution you would say no?” his eyes found yours again and his gaze was piercing.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as George's eyes locked with yours. You had expected a hug or some words of comfort, not a proposition. You knew what he was insinuating, and part of you was tempted to take him up on his offer. But the other part of you was hesitant, unsure if you were ready to cross that line with him.

You had to admit, the idea was tempting. George was an attractive man, and you had always felt a certain level of chemistry between the two of you. But did you want to risk your friendship for a moment of physical release?

“I…”

Upon noticing your hesitation, George decided for you. “Come here.” he patted his thigh.

Bolts of electricity ran through your body  at his words. There was no denying that the idea of him taking care of you in that way was incredibly arousing. And before you made up your mind, your legs carried you over to him.

He took your arm, leading you in front of him. “Turn aroud. Sit down.” he instructed softly.

“On y-”

“Yes, y/n, on my lap.”

If he wanted to, he could pull you by the arms and just place you there, but he waited for you to slowly sit down yourself, resting your hands on his knees, your back to him.

“Good girl. Now,” he leaned forward, hugging your waist. “If in any moment you feel uncomfortable or just want to stop for whatever reason, I want you to tell me. Alright?”

“Okay.” you nodded, his intense stare more than you could handle.

You were familiar with being this close to George; you'd even slept in the same bed side-by-side without any issue. You had held each other before, but his touch was always comforting and platonic. This time however, something more hung in the air - an energy that made your heart race with anticipation.

“Good.” he kissed your tense shoulder.

George's hands caressed your body with practiced ease, gently running down your sides, across your abdomen, up and down your jean clothed thighs in order to help you relax. Gradually, you leaned into him, your breaths deeper. His lips smoothed over your neck and you let out an unwilling moan.

“You’re doing good.” he reassured and you nodded, affirming that you heard him.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, diving under to caress your stomach. They were warm, but your back arched on a sudden skin on skin contact. He stopped for a moment until you relaxed again. Moving upwards, his fingers grazed the lace of your bra before he glided his palms to cup them.

You gasped and bit your lip, surprised by the new sensation of his hands so close to your growing chest, and leaned back on him even more, your nipples hardening. You loved the way George touched you, the way he made you feel. His hands ran up and down between you and your bra, squeezing your globes. His lips found your ear, nibbling on its lobe before he spoke.

“You have a beautiful body.” he whispered huskily.

A shudder ran up your spine at the pure lust in his voice. His right hand slipped under the cup of your bra, freeing your breast. You didn’t protest, you felt good. Instead, you arched your back more, pressing your chest more against his hand. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple and pinched and pulled on it, making you moan.

George lowered his head and licked your neck, kissing it softly and nipping it occasionally. His left hand joined in the fun and massaged your other breast, pinching its nipple just as his right hand was doing. You clamped your eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of his touch.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

You leaned back once again, despite your best efforts. Now his right hand made its descend down your stomach, making you wriggle in his lap, and reached the button of your jeans. Popping it open, that’s when you opened your eyes as well.

“George,” you gulped and put your hand over his. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” he pulled you closer, pressing his lips reassuringly to your neck. “Are you not?”

“I’m just worried what it means to us, our friendship. I don’t want to ruin it.” you finally voiced your concerns.

“You won’t ruin it, babygirl.” he smoothed over your hair. “Friends help each other out, don’t they? You can look at it like that.”

“Yes, but…” We shouldn’t be doing this… you thought to yourself.

“We can stop if you-”

“No!” you were maybe a bit too quick to cut him off. “Let’s continue. I… I like it.” you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks.

He kissed your neck, working his way up to your ear. “I’m glad. Cause so do I.” his hand went back to what it was doing.

He pulled down your zipper, but didn’t push your pants down, exposing just your panties. His hand went back to your breasts, kneading them, feeling their weight. Every now and again his hand would brush past your nipple, sending tingles down your body.

You’re breathing was growing heavier, his hands were good at what they were doing and you didn’t want it to stop. He could feel you squirming in his lap, his smirk evident even though your head was turned.

“Someone’s excited.” he teased.

“S-Shut up.” you bit your lip, embarrassed.

His fingers dipped under the elastic line of your panties, and you were glad that you decided to shave that morning. His fingers ran over your mound slowly, feeling every curve, every spot. He circled around your clit, teasing you, before he moved further down, dipping one finger in a bit before pulling it back out.

You moaned and he chuckled. “You like that?” you nodded, trying to contain your moans. “You want me to continue?” you nodded again, too aroused to speak.

His fingers dipped deeper inside your folds, feeling the warm, wet sensation. When his fingers reached the bottom, he started to rub your entrance, pressing just a bit, sending pleasurable sparks through your body.

“Mhm,” he moaned into your ear, “my babygirl likes that.”

“Yes.” you shook your head, agreeing.

“Tell me.” he demanded.

“Yes, I like it. I want it.”

His finger pushed a bit further inside, and you bit your lower lip, unable to keep quiet. “You want what?” he asked in a low voice.

“I want it.” you said in a higher pitched voice, trying to sound like a grown woman. “I want your fingers inside of me.” you blushed.

“You want more?”

“Yes. Please.” you ground onto his finger, your hips following his thumb’s rhythm.

He pulled his hand out of your pants and you audibly expressed your dismay at the lack of contact. He responded by placing his hands on your hips and forcing you up off the chair. Tugging your jeans down, you stepped out of them and he was quick to pull you onto his lap once again. With a nudge from his knee, your thighs opened into a desirable position. His arm was securely locked around your waist, making sure that you wouldn't move away or slip off his lap.

“Now,” he played with your panties, pushing them aside. “You said you wanted more?”

“Yes, George. Please, George.” you whined.

“Only cause you said please.” he smirked and you could feel his teeth graze your skin.

His finger entered you again, slowly, stretching you, moving only an inch or so before pulling out again. When he felt that you were ready for more, he rhythmically started to finger you, gauging your reaction. His finger pushed a bit further in, making you squirm. He pulled it back out, a bit of your juices clinging to it before he thrust it back in. You gasped, feeling the full sensation of his finger inside of you. He added another finger, and you moaned, squirming on his lap, feeling so full. Your breathing had turned into moaning, echoing through the empty apartment in which you were in.

"Shh, babygirl, it's alright. You're doing good.” George’s free hand tangled in your hair, pulling it back, your exposed neck bared to him. He nibbled on it, biting and sucking, loving your reactions.

“Just, please, more.” you begged him.

“I don't think you're ready for that yet.”

His fingers became more insistent inside you, pushing deeper and deeper. He rubbed your g-spot, making your moans turn into pants.

“No, no, no, no.” you panted. “Please, just a bit more.”

“Would my babygirl like to come already?”

“Yes, please, I’m so close.” you said, almost crying, needing to come.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“George, please. I want it. I need it. Please.” you begged.

“God, I didn’t think hearing you beg would be such a turn on.” he confessed, his voice a deep rumble.

“Please, I need it. I need to come. I love it when you touch me like that. Please!” you were almost screaming by the end.

He went back on rubbing you, his fingers moving faster and faster. Slipping his thumb a few times inside you while his fingers were busy doing you, the other hand clamped on your hip for support. His thumb pushed in deeper, your juices coated it and he rubbed your g-spot with it, making you squeal.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” you said over and over again, panting.

“Come for me.” he hissed and his other hand wrapped around your throat, holding you gently.

You didn’t even need his encouragement, your whole body was aching for release. His fingers moved faster, rubbing your g-spot, his thumb pressing hard against it. You were soaked, his fingers gliding inside you. You moaned, louder than before, mumbling incoherently.

Your hips bucked on his lap and he held you in place, his fingers continuing their assault on your body. You were his toy, his play thing, and you enjoyed it more than you should have. You didn’t care anymore, you were drowning in pleasure, letting it consume you.

Lights burst behind your eyelids when you came, biting hard into your lip, muffling your screams. Your whole body relaxed from the pleasure, your arms giving out and you would have fallen if he had not held you. You leaned against him, recovering from your orgasm. Your head was laid on his chest and all you could hear was his breathing, slowing down.

When the orgasmic waves subsided, you became aware of your surroundings again and blushed.

“Th-thank you.” you stammered, chest still rising and falling visibly.

“You’re welcome.” he kissed your temple. “Feeling better now?”

“Yes.” you nodded.

“Glad I could help.” he said, his fingers playing with your hair, combing them through.

“You did, but George… This can’t happen again.” you finished, standing up to find your jeans. It was just an excuse to put some physical distance between you for you don’t think you could get the last part over your lips if you were still sitting on his lap.

“Oh,” was all he said. You couldn’t determine was he disappointed or the realization hit him.

“We are friends and I want it to stay that way. You are too important for me to lose over... such thing.” you zipped up your pants.

“I understand.” he said, his voice not betraying his true feelings.

You had expected it to be hard to say it, but it didn’t feel like a lie at all, it felt like the truth. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Thank you.”

He meekly nodded. “Do you want to stay over? We can watch tv or something…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay.” he smiled and you smiled back.

You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in blankets on his couch, laughing as you watched bad television shows and poking fun at the characters and plots. Between you two was no uneasiness; you were laughing together like earlier events hadn't happened. And that moment looked like a promise that, no matter what, nothing will ever change between you two.

Or so you thought...

Next part

[henryrussell63]

Happy pride month everyone!

[colie-nne]

it was him

pairings: formula 1 grid x fem driver!oc

warnings: none

a/n: back at it with the Valiente series. this is set in 2021 so Alex is still with red bull and George is still with Williams.

After the race, drivers from every team are expected to go and take a rest and talk about their current standings. But no, when it comes to Alex and George, it’s payback time for what Valentina had done to them two grand prix prior.

Seeing the Red Bull and Williams (George) driver together on the paddock wasn't new. Seeing that the two have known each other for quite a while, it hasn’t raised any questions from anyone. 

It was, however, confusing and quite a sight to see the two tall gents seemingly drenched from head to toe in the middle of the paddock. What was not confusing was the young female laughing at the two as they look at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, Val?” George asked her, perplexed and quite startled that his clothes, which he was bragging about to Alex some minutes ago, were now wet. Not only that but his bag too. “Hmm, no, I don’t think so. Should’ve been more aware. Right, Alex?” Valentina laughs as she quotes Alex's words from the last time they did her dirty. The man just stood there wringing as much water out of his shirt before running after Val, in an attempt to get her wet.

Setting up their revenge prank on her, the duo sat on the couch, right in front of the door to capture her final dry moments.

“You hear anything, mate?” Alex asks George as he watches the Williams driver slowly walk back to the couch, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I hear footsteps alright.” Confirming, the two take out their phones to record this moment.

And like in the movies, they watch as footsteps stop by the door, seeing the knob slowly turn. Waiting for the final push of the door, they suck in their breath, counting in their heads.

Seconds pass by, and they release their breaths with a cheer as the bucket of water splashes down on Valentina. Jumping around as if they’ve won the WDC and hugging each other as if it’s their last.

Turning to the door, it may also be called their last. Not only do they see Valentina drenched in the blue-dyed water, but the one and only Charles Leclerc are also drenched, much more, if Val may add.

Valentina began chuckling at their half-failed prank on her, pushing away some hair from her face she looks up at Charles who was now scanning the condition of his then-white shirt. 

“Ok, whoever thought of this should go and buy me a new shirt.” Stating, Charles shakes off the excess liquid on his hair and warningly looks at the two sitting on the couch, who have now gone silent.

“Look, before you get mad at me. This…” gesturing to the whole set-up,”…was for Val and Val alone and it was George who’ve come up with the whole blue dye-thing.” Alex excuses himself as he points a finger at George who was looking at him in shock.

“Albon!! You did not just pin the blame on me, mate. You said this was a team effort...” George explains in an attempt to lessen his crimes, however, Charles unconsciously drowns out any noise as she looks at the youngster beside him laughing her ass off.

Seeing her laughing even after getting splashed made him laugh as well. Now joining Val in her laughing fit, Charles slings an arm around her shoulders and turns around with the intent of accompanying her back to her team’s motor home for a change of clothes.

George, who’s now up and about, still trying to defend himself, earns a hard smack on his stomach as Alex points out that they were the only ones left in the room. Gobsmacked, the British driver looks at his friend for an explanation, making Alex shrug and tell him what had transpired just moments ago.

[moviecritc]

old habits ⋆ george russell

pairing: george russell x fem!oc (named Lena)

tropes: break-up, angst

summary: lena returns to the apartment she shared with george to collect her things after their breakup

word count: 615

a/n: i'm not the biggest fan of sad things, but omfg i'm so proud of this little blurb.

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Lena felt she had wasted the last five years of her life. Instead of settling down in a city, studying, and having her group of friends, she had followed a boy around the world after he had said a few nice things to her. Now she found herself alone, without a flat and with a half-started business.

She wanted to leave Monaco as soon as possible, but all her things were in George's attic. She didn't want to see him, not now. Barely two days had passed; she still remembered everything she had said, how she had acted, and how he had practically said or done nothing. Nevertheless, there she was, pondering whether to ring the doorbell or to use her keys.

She took a few breaths and tapped gently on the wooden door. Lena was surprised by how quickly George opened the door. He had tear-stained dark circles and messy hair, yet he still looked incredibly handsome.

"Lena," he uttered, as if he longed to hear her name again.

"Hello, George," she spoke, with the most expressionless look she could muster. "I've come for my things."

George seemed disappointed, and his gaze darkened after a glimmer of hope that Lena might be there for the opposite reason. She didn’t wait for a response and made her way to the attic, holding back her emotions as best she could. But with each step she took, a memory was unlocked; all the times they had cooked together, all the times they had danced to jazz in the living room, the nights of cheesy American movies they watched one on top of the other… Completely cliché things, but to her, they seemed perfect.

"Am I coming at a good time?" she questioned, almost forcing the conversation. It was obvious the answer was going to be no.

"Well," said George simply. "I don’t think there's ever a good time for this."

Lena noticed the tremble in her breath and took a few moments to speak, not wanting George to see that it also hurt her, deep down, she just wanted him to hate her so she could get over it.

"Right. I'll go to the room, if you don't mind,"

As Lena gathered everything, George prepared two cups of tea, although Lena probably wouldn’t stay long enough to finish hers. He thought about what he would say. He had apologized hundreds of times, had picked up the ring from the floor and had apologized for appearing in the hallway of the apartment too drunk to articulate two words. He hated himself for all that, having been rotting in his body for those 48 hours, which had been enough to realize that he couldn’t live without her, even if it meant never stepping foot in a church.

"Lena," he spoke, appearing in the doorway. "I'm sorry. For everything, for wasting your time, for being a bad boyfriend,"

Lena knew that the problem wasn’t George, but simply the fact of being in such an unstable relationship, but she never told him that.

"George, I'm leaving. I have to go," She finished zipping up her suitcase and rolled it across the floor.

"You don’t have to. We'll find a way to fix this," George made a gesture to grab her arm.

"There’s nothing to fix. We want different things and neither of us will give up our lives for the other,"

"What life, Lena?"

She sensed the anger in George's words. It bothered him that Lena had such a good way with words and he could barely control the tremor of his voice in an argument.

"Don't," said Lena, in a whisper, holding back some rebel tears.

The two remained silent, not knowing what to say but also not wanting to leave.

[lecsainz]

Back to December

pairings: lando norris x fem!¡reader / mentions fem!¡reader x george russell

warnings: mentions of cheated and english is not my first language

authors note: I was inspired by Taylor's song 'Back to December'. I'm not used to writing this style, but I decided to give it a try. Well, I hope you like it.

word count: 950

Lando Norris saw her from across the paddock, standing there with George Russell. It had been months since they last spoke, but seeing her again brought back a flood of memories.

He made his way over to her, his heart racing as he tried to think of something to say.

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly.

She turned to look at him, her expression guarded. "Lando," she said coolly.

He hesitated, unsure of what to say next. "How have you been?" he asked finally.

"I've been good," she said, her eyes flickering over to George.

"George," Lando greets him and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as George placed a hand on Y/N's waist, pulling her closer.

Lando felt a pang of jealousy, mixed with regret. He remembered the way he had hurt her when they were together, and now he was seeing her with someone else.

"I'm happy for you," he said, forcing a smile.

Y/N looked at him for a moment, her eyes searching his face. "Are you?" she asked quietly.

Lando shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I'm not. I messed things up with you, and now I see you with someone else..."

He trailed off, feeling a lump form in his throat. Y/N looked at him with a mixture of sadness and understanding.

"I forgave you a long time ago, Lando," she said gently. "But that doesn't mean I forgot. It just means I chose to move on."

Lando nodded, feeling the weight of his mistakes heavy on his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said again. "For everything."

Y/N smiled slightly, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I know you are," she said. "But sometimes sorry isn't enough."

They stood there in silence for a few moments, the air thick with unresolved emotions. George looked between them, unsure of what to do.

"I should probably get going," Y/N said finally, breaking the tension. "It was good seeing you, Lando."

"Goodbye, Y/N," Lando said, his heart heavy as he watched her walk away with Russell.

He knew that he had lost her for good, and it was a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made.

Lando tried to focus on his race, he tried to leave behind the pain of seeing his ex-girlfriend with another driver. He knew he needed to concentrate on the race, but he couldn't help the images in his head. He remembered the moments they spent together and how everything seemed perfect. But he ruined it all when he cheated on her.

As he prepared for the race, Lando tried to focus on his team's instructions. He felt a lump in his throat as he looked out at the crowd and imagined Y/N cheering for George, who she was with now. He felt like he was losing everything.

The race began and Lando tried to focus on the task at hand. He fought hard to climb the ranks, but something was off. He made some mistakes, losing time and falling even further behind in the rankings. He knew his team expected more from him.

In the end, Lando finished the race in a humiliating tenth place. He got out of the car and walked back to the pits with his head down. His team tried to cheer him up, but he wasn't interested. All he could think about was Y/N and what could have been if he hadn't cheated on her.

He knew he needed to move on, but he didn't know how. He wondered if he would ever be able to forgive himself for what he did.

Lando was sitting on the couch in his room in the McLaren paddock, staring at his phone with a heavy heart. He took a deep breath and dialed his ex-girlfriend's number, hoping that she would answer.

"Hello?" a hesitant voice answered.

"Hey, it's me," Lando said, trying to keep his voice steady.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before she spoke again. "What do you want, Lando?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," Lando said, his voice breaking slightly. "I'm sorry for what happened between us. I wish I could go back in time and change things, but I can't."

There was another long pause before she spoke again. "It's too late for apologies, Lando."

Lando swallowed hard, feeling the sting of her words. "I know, I know. I just wanted to let you know that I still care about you and I'm sorry for everything."

There was silence on the other end of the line before she finally spoke again. "I appreciate the apology, Lando. But I think it's time for us to move on. Goodbye."

Lando sighed and hung up the phone, feeling a sense of sadness wash over him. He couldn't help but think back to the happier times they shared, the times when they were in love and everything was perfect.

He remembered the way she smiled at him, the way her skin felt against his, and the sound of her laughter. He missed her so much, but he knew that he had messed up and it was too late to fix things.

Lando knew that he couldn't go back in time and change things, but he couldn't help but wish that he could. He missed her so much, and he knew that he would always regret losing her.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he couldn't help but wonder if she still cared about him too. But he knew that it was too late, and he would have to live with the consequences of his mistakes.

[vroomvroommuppett]

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f1news fans saw actress and mercedes team principal's daughter, ella wolff, fighting outside of a restaurant with husband, andrew garfield. fans couldn't hear what was being said well, but it looks like it was a bad one.

tagged: ellawolff, andrewgarfield

user1 poor girl

user2 she never deserved him

user3 what happened?

user4 i hope she's ok

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andrewgarfield posted a story

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ellawolff posted a story

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ellawolffprivate

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and others

ellawolffprivate men ain't shit

alexandrasaintlmeux on the way bby 🩷

francesca.cgomez same flavy.barla we all are heidiberger_ on my way too lilymhe we're here for you hun iamrebeccad flying there now

charles_leclerc You ok?

lewishamilton We're all here for you, E.

carlossainz55 Just say the word.

kimiraikonnen 🔪?

sebastianvettel No, Kimi. We are not going to kill him oscarpiastri But the thought is there

maxverstappen1 Shipping red bull to you now.

ellawolffprivate if there's caffeine free, yes. i'll save them tho. landonorris ELLA WOLFF NOT DRINKING RED BULL?! ellawolff it's not good for the baby? charles_leclerc BABY?! pierregasly WHAT?! YOU'RE PREGNANT?! ellawolffprivate yes? i thought y'all knew alex_albon I did logansargeant Me too mickschumacher Same lewishamilton I did georgerussell63 Me three. oscarpiastri Ok you don't have to rub it in.

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