#george russell stating facts

[thisisyourdriverspeaking]

It is almost 3 years since Sakhir 2020 and no I am still not over it

#how time flies 😭😭 #george russell #george russell stating facts #f1 #sakhir gp 2020

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟭𝟬: 𝘆𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗱𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗮𝗯-𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. ab-riding. pierre gasly is his own warning. no penetrative sex. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: yuki tsunoda x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: drabble. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best friend • saweetie ft. doja cat

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: this is actually the dirtiest fic, in theory yk. yuki has my heart, and i'm single handedly going to fill tumblr with my posts about him, thank you, good night.

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

you can’t stand his smug ass smirk. he knows damn well how you feel about his thirst traps. sure, alphatauri milks any chance of plastering yuki across their social media page to fail at distracting fans from the fact that their the slowest car on the grid, and that they can’t build a car that doesn’t fall apart like legos. but, yuki, posting practically-naked (he’s only shirtless, so really you’re mildly exaggerating) pictures on his main instagram page?? he’s not george-fucking-russell, so, why the hell would he do that?

there’s only two answers to this question, and they’re both correct. one, pierre gasly—the french bastard. you can’t leave them together unsupervised. and two, to make you mad. 9which you very much are, so, yuki achieved what he wanted. he’s especially thrilled, when you shove him down onto your bed, and straddle his lap, angrily tugging his shirt off. yuki grins up at you, satisfied at where a simple shirtless picture lead him to. he should listen to pierre more often, his ex-teammate might have good ideas, however rare they are. once his shirt is off, you freeze, breathing heavily as you drink in the sight of his torso. you lean forward and start sucking marks into his pecs, biting into the meat of his chest, and tracing the definition of his abs with your tongue. yuki’s moans rumble in his chest, and he lets his eyes flutter shut and basks under the thorough claim you’re leaving on his body. at least you’re kind enough to avoid placing any marks high enough to where they could be seen from the neck of a shirt—alphatauri will just have to post pre-filmed videos they have in the vault while your hickeys fade, they’ll survive.

you erratically jerk away again, and strip your bottoms off, shoving your underwear down and tossing them behind you. you tug your shirt up until it bunches under your armpits, and you drag the cups of your bra underneath your chest, causing them to spill over the top obscenely. roughly grabbing at your boyfriend’s hands, you direct them to grasp at your boobs, and command, “keep your abs flexed.” yuki makes a noise of confusion, but you don’t elaborate any further. you lower yourself to sit on his abdomen, and grind across him slowly, testing the waters. your head falls forward from the zing of pleasure that races up your spine, and you quickly start rabbiting your hips across the dips and ridges of his muscles. 

yuki is rendered speechless at your motions. he was expecting you to ride his dick, not his abs. he’s not going to complain about this, though. you’re rubbing yourself off on his torso—your moans are bitten off and rough, and your grinds are deep and forceful to make sure your clit catches on every sharp edge of his abdomen. it’s the dirtiest thing yuki’s ever seen you do, usually he’s the one being unhinged. he squeezes at your chest rhythmically, dropping his hands to your chest eventually to watch how your breasts bounce at every shift you make—he sighs contentedly, this is heaven. 

he brings one hand to reach around you and palm himself over his shorts, but is denied the chance to do so. you hiss at him meanly, and pull his hand back to your waist, eyes flashing at him in warning. yuki falters under the commanding glint of your gaze, maybe he pushed you too far this time. he adjusts his grip on your body and takes some of the load off you, and guides your hips against his body for you—he could feel your thighs begin to tremble in exhaustion and based on how deadest you’ve become on getting yourself off on his abs, he doesn’t want to feel any additional wrath when your release slips from your grasp. 

a squeal of relief rattles through your chest at how yuki does the hard work for you. he moves your body exactly how you crave, and you find it incredibly difficult to remember why you were mad in the first place. instead of your thighs shaking in tiredness—you’re thankfully not used to being the one putting all the work in, your boyfriend’s stamina is appreciated—they begin to quiver as you get closer to cumming. your own hand comes to tug at your nipples, looking for any last flare of pleasure to push you over the edge. the wetness you’ve spread across his abs has started to lessen the friction you feel against your cunt. yuki sees the frustration furrowing your brow, and shifts his right hand down over your navel so his thumb can rub at your clit. you gasp, throwing your head back at white-hot burst of contentment behind your eyes, and all it takes is a few more furious passes of yuki’s fingers on your cunt, as the coil snaps inside your core, and waves of bliss crash over you.

yuki slips his hand away, and guides you to ride out the aftershocks on his abs. he moans at the sight of pure satisfaction on your face, and how you’ve soaked his torso, reminding him what belongs to you, with no room for vagueness. you eventually slow your roll, and fall to the side off yuki. the two of you pant as you stare at the ceiling, allowing the rapid beats of your hearts to slow.

you tilt your head to face him, and smile dopily at the sight of yuki staring at his navel. you’ve drenched him with your release, and it glistens beautifully on his tanned skin. if you were truly unhinged, you’d take a picture with your hand rubbing your wetness across his skin, and post it for everyone to see. the contrasting shades of your skin under the light of golden hour would look perfect. it would probably cost your boyfriend’s career, so maybe that’s not an equal exchange. 

hummingly faintly, you stumble off 9ithe bed, legs still shaking as you walk towards the bathroom. “you can get yourself off. you’re not fucking me for a week—“ yuki makes an alarmed noise, sputtering in disbelief, struggling to find his words, “oh, don’t get mouthy with me. i could make it so you never fuck me again—i just gave you enough material to last you for that long.” you slam the bathroom door shut, and yuki’s mouth hangs open in shock. fuck, pierre. he’s never listening to his suggestions ever again.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

#yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda x black!reader #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda x fem!reader #yuki tsunoda #yuki tsunoda smut #yuki tsunoda fic #yuki tsunoda x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x female rader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x you #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 imagine #alphatauri f1 #serene’s chapters. #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: yt. #httpss :// kinktober 23 #f1 kinktober #formula 1 kinktober #kinktober 2023

[itsvelyria]

"christmas w the f1 boys"

Charles Leclerc

charles is a mess: he realises this as he resorts to simply bunching up the plaid wrapping paper over the Puma box that is meant for his brother. there is something on his chin, he thinks, but he’s too busy twirling the roll of tape around the lopsided present. beside him, you’re having the time of your life, folding obedient coloured paper with the precision and accuracy only found at gift wrapping stations. your stack of neatly wrapped presents sits prettily in contrast to his less neat ones – your tree looking more like a joke by the second. the velvet crimson ribbon is tied into a little bow by your expert fingers, and you set it aside, another point for you. gazes meet and yours falls onto the mess in his hands and promptly burst into a fit of giggles, at which he shoots you a pout. still giggling, you lean over, peeling the double-sided tape from his jaw, mumbling that it’s a good thing there’s something he’s bad at.

Carlos Sainz

mutters of how it’s such a waste of electricity to power up so many lights just for a holiday can be heard under your breath and he fights the urge to laugh. you’ve been repeating that spiel for as long as he can remember and the refreshing bout that hits him every time hasn’t died. still, the fact that you’re in his hometown with him, having been successfully convinced by him to go out on a little adventure to admire the christmas decorations. he pulls you in closer by the shoulder, your rant having ended with a tiny huff, and relishes in the warmth of your slender arm resting against his back. the urge to call your name, have that scowl on your face turn towards him so he can kiss it right off is irresistible. and so, fuelled by the saccharine smell of vanilla in the air, he does exactly that.

Danny Ricciardo

your boyfriend didn't need much convincing when you mentioned the Christmas decorations should go up. and thus, he was tasked with setting up the tree, brandishing his biceps with a flourish. now though, you’re standing by the boxes of ornaments you had dug out of the storage room while he wrestles with the middle tier of the plastic tree – your help having been rejected. it is with great struggle on his part, and great pain on yours, that the three tiers are all successfully stacked onto each other. the inevitable bickering begins, as you tease him about his lack of artistic direction while he jokes about your inability to reach the higher branches. even with no consensus being reached, the tree is adequately covered in tinsel and glittery ornaments. finally, danny insists on lifting you by his shoulder to place the finishing touch: the star.

George Russell

the holidays in england are top-tier and the ultimate winner of all things that bring happiness to his life — do not even try to fight him on that. the prelude of snow in the air coupled with the smell of chocolatey malt fuels him when there is no post-race adrenaline rush to do so. the market is set up with various tiny stalls selling hot beverages and homemade trinkets, the bustle of the crowd melting together with joy in his chest. he takes in the cheer that seems to make spirits a smidge higher and polite grins a little more sincere, watching you dash from stall to stall, cooing over every cute thing your eyes land on. maybe he was wrong, perhaps the greatest joy is being able to tangle his fingers with your fingers, tucking them safely into his pocket while sipping a hot chocolate.

Lando Norris

when you were apartment shopping, you had accounted for your respective large families and ever-growing social circle. butthe current state of your living room begs to differ. loud voices competing to be heard over the others was the music of choice as your sister screams accusations at your boyfriend while he has his best friend in a headlock. there’s half-empty wine glasses and nacho crumbs strewn everywhere. you’re pretty sure the sodas were spiked but your current hand is way too trash, so you fold. cursing your dealer, your uncle, you peer around the room. there is a monopoly game in the corner that looks like a full-out war, and you can spy your aunts, far too drunk on the good wine to care, so you’re halfway out of your chair to intervene but lando beats you to it. he says something that has the kids giggling and the teenagers rolling their eyes, calming the frazzled nerves instantly. glancing around, he catches your eye and shoots you a grin, and for a second, you feel your heart skip a beat. he follows up with a wink, making his way over to you where he proceeds to drape his large frame over yours. his arms hang over your shoulders, chin propped up on yours as he peers at your cards.

Lewis Hamilton

the shiver down his spine shocks him. your feet are basically icicles, he has said time and time again. but lewis remains still even as you shove your feet under the shared blanket, pressing them up against his in a desperate attempt to gain some warmth. his eyes dart up from the words on his book, landing on your furrowed brows engrossed in your own pages. the carefully curated playlist of holiday music and comforting scent of cinnamon and pine burning from the scented candle someone had gifted the year previous soothes his mind. roscoe is peacefully snoring away in the corner. putting aside your literal cold feet, he finds his attention turned back to the book, humming along gently. your full-on belting scares him and the book in his hands falls to the ground with a thud. he can’t hide the fond twinkle in his eyes even as he shoots you a glance. your apologetic shrug is nonchalant, and he finds himself mirroring your grin, joining in the annihilation of the song. it dissolves into shared laughter as the combined voices wakes roscoe, who sends you two the most displeased look a dog can make.

Max Verstappen

in hindsight, he should have listened to you. but the fact remains that he did not, and so he can only watch on enviously as you sip your coffee. you did warn him of the bustling aisles in the packed mall and asked if he needed caffeine to get him through. but then again you did reprimand his excessive consumption of a particular energy drink last night so the thought that it was a trap crossed his mind and lead to his rejection. he wonders if you would let him take a tiny sip as you drag him into the next store, arms sore from carrying a few too many shopping bags. you hold up the race cars from the boys’ section of the toy store, eyes narrowed to evaluate the brightly coloured plastic, trying to determine if they were good enough for his nephews. his heart swells a little at the sight of you trying to pick out the perfect gift for his family, but his focus lied mainly on your coffee, which was left unattended. and with zero hesitation, he swipes the drink, taking a large gulp to make up for the stress he had undergone for the past two hours. your dirty look is met with a twinkle in his eyes as he drops a kiss on your cheek as an apology.

#f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #george russell fluff #george russell x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #my writing #itsvelyria #edited and reposted #bc i hated the prev #formula one fluff #formula one x reader

[delulujuls]

snackin' | gr63, lh44

i know halloween was a little ago but i came across this one imagine where george was a vampire and i couldnt stop myself from writing something with him in this role too. so sharpen ur teefs and bon appetit!

summary: the night of drunk confessions turned to be a little bit more surprising that expected

warnings: not too much of explaining this unusual condition, nothing too visual and gory tho

pairing: george russell x fem!mercdriver x lewis hamilton

"C'mon, play it again, please!"

Y/N wiped tears from her cheeks, feeling her stomach ache from laughter.

"You definitely rap better than you drive, mate" George said, taking a sip of wine and glancing at Lewis with feigned seriousness.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head and played again the song in which he managed to make an appearance.

As soon as the part with him appeared, Y/N and George took his phone, using the displayed lyrics and tried to rap along with the song, eliciting a smile from Lewis.

"You guys are too predictable."

"Come on, Lewis, live performance! For the most loyal fans!"

Y/N directed the wine bottle towards him as if it were a microphone. Hamilton couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He took the bottle from her and took a sip before leaning towards her phone, rapping once again, which of course was met with cheers and applause from his friends.

It was an early Saturday evening and the three friends were spending it together in a hotel room. The weather outside was cold and rainy, so instead of conquering the city, the Mercedes drivers decided to spend the pre-race evening in each other's company and with perfectly chilled wine.

When the song ended, Y/N handed the phone back to the man and sighed heavily, taking her glass.

"I have to admit, that was quite surprising."

"Believe me, I was shocked too when you said you couldn't tie your shoes until you were fourteen" Lewis replied, glancing at her.

"I agree, I thought you were at least a bit smarter than a goldfish" George added, earning a playful punch in the side.

"I'm curious with what you will shine, Georgie boy" she replied, raising an eyebrow. Silence fell for a moment as two pairs of eyes focused on the guy.

George pretended to ponder, but since the topic of confessions began, he knew exactly what he wanted to finally tell his friends. It was something slightly more serious than taking a part in a song or a belated ability to tie shoelaces.

He looked at his friends, at their slightly alcohol-distracted gazes and faint smiles playing on their faces. He knew these people for a long time; they were very close to him and he knew he could come to them with anything. So, he decided it was high time to be honest with them. Because that's what friends do, right?

"I'm a vampire" George threw this fact into the air as if they were discussing the weather.

Both Lewis and Y/N snorted, not taking his words seriously.

"Yeah, and Lewis is an eight-time world champion."

"Hey, cut it out" Lewis pointed a finger at her "But yeah man, that's a bullshit"

"In this matter, you're predictable too."

George sighed, taking another sip from his glass. He wasn't surprised by their reaction in any way though.

"No, no, go on, we're all ears. I'm just curioius why did you bring up such a topic in this state? I guess none of us is drunk after two bottles of wine, right?" Y/N said, pouring more wine into her glass.

"I'm saying this completely sober. I want to get it off my chest and know that I have no secrets from you" he admitted, looking at them. Both Lewis and Y/N became a bit more serious. Not that they believed in the nonsense he was currently saying, but the smiles disappeared from their faces.

"What do you mean by saying you're a vampire?" the girl asked, looking at him more focused.

George knew that no matter what he said, his words wouldn't replace any tangible actions.

"Can you take the bandage off your hand?" Russell asked, nodding towards her bandaged hand, which covered an unfortunate cut from a metal band she got on the track the previous day.

Y/N looked at him and remained motionless for a moment. After a few seconds, however, she began to unwind her bandage. When she finished, George reached out to her. She hesitantly handed him her hand. He gently grabbed the bandage and peeled it off, revealing a sizable, still fresh cut.

George closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling how his lungs filled with the sweet scent of the girl's blood. As his fangs shifted into feeding mode, he simply smiled. Upon seeing his teeth, Y/N quickly withdrew her hand and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh, fuck me."

Lewis was in shock no less than the girl, but neither of them moved an inch from the bed.

"Are you kidding us, right?"

Y/N struggled to shift her gaze from his teeth to his eyes and just as she doubted her friend's words for a moment, seeing his darkened irises made her realize that he probably wasn't joking.

"Talking about being a vampire is a pretty lame joke and frankly I think I could afford something better" George replied and finished his drink.

"Besides, I don't even know why I would bother fooling you with something like that."

The remaining two sat in shock, unsure of what to say. They weren't even sure if George was joking, but they could admit he had a point - why would he joke about this in the first place?

"Okay, let's assume you're actually a vampire," Y/N began, grabbing the bottle and not bothering to pour its contents into her glass. "Then why do you function normally in the sun? You eat and drink normal things too, right?"

"I admit, I thought it would be like that and at first I was scared shitless," George replied, reaching for the glass she filled. "But what you mentioned is total myths. Basically, everything I knew about vampires turned out to be total bullshit."

"What do you mean by that?"

Lewis furrowed his brow, listening attentively.

"I can function normally during the day; I just have to remember sunscreen because I can easily burn. I'm a bit more sensitive to sunlight, so most of the time I need to wear sungl-"

"No, that's bullshit, you wear them because you roar after every race, not because you're a vampire," Y/N shook her head, taking another sip of alcohol.

"I won't insist that it's different, but oversensitivity to light also plays a role in this," George explained. He was ready to dispel any doubts his friends had, just to make them feel comfortable and to ensure that their relationship didn't deteriorate.

"What about eating? You still eat everything normally, even right now we're drinking together" Lewis interjected, taking a sip from his glass.

"Yeah, that's another myth. I can eat and drink normal human food, but it doesn't satisfy my hunger. I can eat and eat and I'm still like a bottomless pit," he admitted "Once, Alex and I recorded a stream where we had a bet on who could eat more at McDonald's. I don't think I need to tell you who won."

"So, you eat only to-"

"To avoid raising any suspicions, yes" George nodded. He knew that the tougher part of the story was yet to come.

"So, how do you satisfy your hunger? I guess not with protein bars, right?" Y/N asked rhetorically.

"That's no longer a myth, I feed like all those pop-culture-created vampires" George explained.

"Do you kill people?" Lewis asked quietly. Not because he was afraid, but because he was worried about his friend. He knew that the only one in danger was George because he would never harm anyone. Not as a human, not as a vampire either.

George laughed and shook his head. "No, I don't kill people. Unless you count killing them with my looks, but that's a different story."

"So, what does this... process look like?" Y/N looked at him. Neither of them registered the moment when this conversation stopped being perceived as a joke and became one of the most serious conversations they've ever had.

"It looks like in the movies, but it's less dramatic. I don't know about other... ones of my kind, but I think I look fairly neat afterward."

"So, people are like walking Capri Suns for you?"

George laughed at his friend's original comparison and nodded.

"Yeah, that's more or less how it looks."

"And now? Are you hungry?"

Lewis asked. He was surprisingly calm and not worried, all he was just curious.

"Today is still fine, but I know I'll have to snack on something after the race tomorrow."

"Who do you feed on? How does it even happen? And most importantly, who knows about all this?" Y/N had too many questions and with each passing second more emerged, making the situation not any easier. "Holy shit, our friend is a vampire."

"You met Carmen, right?" George asked, to which both friends nodded. "She's my feeder, if I can call it that directly. The whole facade of a relationship is a pretty good and strong cover, as you can tell."

"Are you telling me that you're not a couple? Are you kidding?"

Y/N was even more shocked than hearing that his dear friend was a bloodsucker.

"Wow, you took this more seriously than the fact that a literal vampire is sitting next to you."

George pretended to be outraged, but continued anyway.

"Carmen is very close to me and is a wonderful person, but our relationship is more of an exchange transaction."

"Goddamn, it's just getting better and better."

Lewis laughed and reached for more wine, knowing that more alcohol would be useful for this conversation.

"So, Carmen is your walking Capri Sun, not bad."

Y/N sighed and handed Lewis her glass, grabbing the hotel phone and ordering a few more bottles of wine. It looked like it was going to be a long night.

The conversation among friends on this rather unusual topic flowed freely; it probably looked the same as if George had admitted that he sometimes talks in his sleep or that he kissed his cousin at the aunt's wedding. The friends accepted this news much better than George expected. He was genuinely happy that their reaction didn't foreshadow the end of their friendship.

"I'm convinced that Lewis tastes like chocolate milk."

Y/N declared, pointing with the glass she held towards Lewis. The trio was already quite drunk, but nothing indicated that they would part ways soon.

"I'm not sure how racially sensitive that was," Hamilton also took a sip from his glass.

"I think in both cases you'd be tasty. You guys have a good diet so nothing suggests it could be otherwise," George admitted, lying on his side and propping himself up with his hand.

"If you want, I can be your Capri Sun" the girl offered, looking at her friend.

"That's probably the most wholesome thing you've said to me lately."

George giggled, genuinely touched.

"I'm here for you too, George" Lewis said, looking at him. "And I do really hope that I taste like chocolate milk."

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 oneshots #f1 #formula 1 #george russell #george russell x reader #gr63 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader x lewis hamilton #lh44

[httpsuniverse]

LIPS OF AN ANGEL | MM19

PAIRING: mason mount x wolff!reader ; a bit of george russell x wolff!reader

DETAILS & WARNINGS: profanities, mentions cheating/infidelity, mason's anger is totally understandable, y/n's a bit of a bitch(? idk towards the end tho), rushed ending bc i really wanted to end this hahahah, also not proofread and tons of dialogues ahhahah

WC: 4k

A/N: i apologize for uploading this soo late 😭 i had writers block for a long while :< anyway, enjoy reading!

TAGGED: @i83andrew @pleasantducktimetravel

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © newuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

now, four months have passed since you’ve broken up with mason (or at least that was what your letter stated). in those months, mason finds himself longing for you. the man often finds himself up most nights, sleeping so late and waking up so early to head to training and other prior schedules he has every day.

mason would not deny it; that if someone were to ask if he had tried contacting you, your dad and even your stepmum. the couple would always say that they don’t know your whereabouts, but deep inside, he knows they know and knowing you, you were probably the one who asked them not to tell him. the first month was the hardest, he tried calling you every night and every chance he got while on his schedule. he was waiting for your voicemail greeting to play just to hear your voice and after that, he’d record what he wanted to say. a mixture of i love you’s, i miss you’s and please come back. 

it wasn’t easy with you as well. you missed mason and you missed the days where it was just the two of you in your own little world. if you could only go back in time, you’d never leave the house during the night of your fight and maybe this never would’ve happened. you missed seeing mason on the other side of the bed; you weren’t a morning person but whenever there’s a chance that you wake up before him, you’d watch him sleep and listen to his gentle snores while you lightly trace his beard with the tip of your finger. you missed snuggling to him during cold mornings, you missed the lazy make-outs because he couldn’t get his hands off of you, you missed him whispering sweet nothings in your ear after you wake up. you missed mornings with mason, too bad you can no longer relive those moments.

though you can’t help that every time you wake up, you have that thought that you could go back to london, you could return his calls, you could return back to mason and restart your relationship. but every time you do think of doing those things, you’re reminded of what you did. all those lies you’ve told him, and those days where you were away and sleeping with another man. 

going back to the man you’ve hurt seems such a foolish thing to do, and you know the people around mason wouldn’t allow such a thing. though you may think that mason would have the same thinking as the others, he sometimes does not. he wanted to risk it all again with you, he wanted to try and fix it with you. all he wanted is you and you alone.

going back to mason is something that you want to do but wouldn’t do. and on the fourth month, 5 day mark, mason had revealed his month long relationship with a model, lia mendes.

honey, why you calling me so late?

it’s kinda hard to talk right now. 

honey, why you crying, is everything okay?

i gotta whisper cause i can’t be too loud.

you stood in your living room filled with moving boxes, susie and toto were outside while jack was napping inside your bedroom. all you could do was sigh. it felt so weird moving into a new apartment–let alone moving to the southeast corner of france. monaco was a lovely place to live in, knowing that your father lives here (though he travels most of the time), the fact that you live nearby brings you some sort of relief, safety and comfort. though, as many people have said, you disappeared off the face of the earth for a few months, you’ve lived your life quietly with your mum for a while as you wait for the situation with mason to die down.

you were in a rush when you left london the night you told mason you were just going to the store. you left without even taking a second look, not even an ounce of thought. sure, it was a wrong move—a dumb decision as well, but you wanted to run away from all the mistakes you’ve made. you wanted to escape. leave everything you have to the place you once loved—now a place you dread the most. it was not the easiest decision either, but it was the only solution that you could think of.

the night you left mason, you didn’t go to the store. instead, you met george. again, a clandestine meeting. you messaged george when you were a few blocks away from his place, which is why you met a furious brit.

“have you lost your mind, kid?” he says, god you hated that nickname. it was the nickname that toto knew george gave you and became the hint that you and the driver are close. “she could’ve caught me! she could’ve seen your bloody message! why did you want to see me—”

“i told him, george. he–he probably saw the letter by now because i left a few hours ago.”

the driver’s eyes widened, definitely not the sentence he was not expecting to hear from you. suddenly, he didn’t know what to do or say. george tried to pull you in his arms, but you were quick to push him away. “this… george! this is exactly why we need to stop what’s between us!” you said, “i can’t believe i’m saying this but i regret everything that happened between us. i regret taking advantage of mason and carmen. i hate how i know that dad will be so disappointed in me. so please, let’s stop this… we can’t keep hurting and breaking the trusts of the people around us.” 

your voice cracks by the end of the last sentence, you could feel george staring at you but you kept your gaze on your feet. no strength to look at his eyes because you know that this man would do anything just to make you stay. 

“but baby—”

from calling you kid to baby—you hated it. you felt disgusted. you needed to end it.

“no, george. no buts.” you cut off, “i have to go. i… i wish you all the best.”

you walk back to your car, locking the doors in case george runs after you. again, without looking back, you drive away. leaving the confused brit in the empty street.

and even though you ended things with george that night, he hadn’t stopped calling and texting you—afraid that you might say anything about your relationship to others, even with friends and family. all he ever cared about was his reputation, he was scared. after all, he was doing great with mercedes the past season and a scandal with his boss’ daughter would put him through hell. 

now, you were left alone in this apartment overlooking the beauty of monaco. you sat on your balcony with a glass of wine sitting on the table, feeling the breeze of the mediterranean sea. oh you missed mason. you haven’t heard anything from him since you two broke up. 

and maybe it was the number of wine in your system that you ended up dialing his number, the one you’ve deleted yet can’t seem to forget as you knew it by heart. no matter how hard you try to forget about it. it kept on ringing and ringing, and you tried to re-dial once it ended due to the exceeding minute. 

on the fifth try, you finally heard his voice. 

“hello?”

you know that feeling when you’ve spoken to your high school crush for the very first time, your heart drops and your stomach is filled with butterflies to the point where you don’t know what to say? that is exactly what you felt when you heard mason’s voice after months.

“hello?” he repeats, “is this a prank call? ‘cause this is the fifth time you called and i might need to block your number–”

“masey.”

you heard sounds of bed rustling followed by a door closing, you assumed that he was already in bed and was fast asleep. after all, it was already midnight. “y/n?” and that’s when the tears started to roll in, god how you missed that voice. “are you crying? is everything alright?” his voice was quiet.

“y-yeah, just…” you sniffed, “just missing you and i think it has something to do with this stupid wine.”

“sorry, i’ve got to whisper. m-my girlfriend’s asleep,”

“oh.” you wiped your tears, you only found out that mason was dating someone now. “i’m sorry, i should’ve known. god, i’ll hang up–”

“no!”

well, my girl’s in the next room

sometimes i wish she was you

i guess we never really moved on

it’s really good to hear your voice saying my name

it sounds so sweet

“she’s in the other room anyway, we can continue talking.” he continued, “h-how have you been? i’ve seen photos of jack on susie’s instagram, may have had a glimpse of you spending time with them in her stories. have you gone karting with jack recently?”

you chuckle, chugging the remaining wine on your glass before responding. “i-i stayed with them for a month, i stayed with my mum as well, after our… well, you know. i’ve accompanied jack while dad and susie are busy. you know, the season has already started and susie is busy with the f1 academy. i was vacant for a month, but i’ve started working again–i’m talking too much, you should really hang up, mason.”

“you know, it’s really good to hear your voice saying my name, y/n.” mason said, “it-it really sounds so sweet.”

“we should really stop, mason.”

you heard him scoff on the other end of the line, “it’s so funny that you’re the one saying that, i’m not the one who called in the first place, y/n.”

“i know, and i only found out that you were dating someone tonight. y-you should be with her, you shouldn’t be talking to your ex who… who cheated on you tonight. she deserves better.”

“i guess we never really moved on, y/n.” he replied, “i–”

“goodbye, mason. good night.”

coming from the lips of an angel

hearing those words, it makes me weak

and i never wanna say goodbye

but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful

with the lips of an angel

mason couldn’t sleep that night and had trouble waking up, which was the reason why lia, so early in the morning, was mad as her boyfriend was sleeping so deep and no matter how hard she tried to wake him up, she just couldn’t. lia was running late for a schedule that mason had promised to come with her as their break for the season had begun. 

“masey, i’m running super late. my manager is about to burst, can’t you please move much faster?” she said, in a mixture of annoyed and calm voice. “didn’t we go to bed at the same time last night? why do you look like you haven’t at all?”

“because i haven’t slept,” he answered directly.

“why?”

“just… nothing. let’s go.”

the couple exited mason’s house, lia practically sprinted to mason’s car and sat on the front seat. masey, that was the nickname most people call him but now, he only wanted to hear your voice call him that and nobody else. when you say his name, it sounded like it came from the lips of an angel. it made him weak most of the time. 

lia had arrived a half an hour late, her manager was already glaring at mason and immediately separated the couple. while lia was doing her photoshoot, leaving mason alone, he realised that he never wanted to break up with you, even if you admitted what had happened between you and george, or maybe he was just thinking about it as you’ve spoken last night. maybe he just missed you. he did miss you. 

what’s fucked up is that he thought he finally moved on from you, that he was ready to commit to a new relationship. he knew that when he and lia were testing the waters, a month before they officially dated. he has told himself several times that he was over you, yet here he is. reminiscing all the memories you’ve shared the past years you two were together after that phone call. you were making it hard for him to be faithful.

as he was waiting, mason was on his phone when he received a notification of an invite to attend another f1 race with red bull. this time, it was in barcelona. he remembered the last time you and he went to monaco, a weekend to remember indeed. 

“we’re going to be separated for almost the whole day, baby” you laugh, putting on your dress as mason shoves his phone into his pocket. “it’s going to be so weird because you’ll be at the red bull garage, and i’ll be at mercedes!”

“hey, i can still go there, you know? plus we’ll see each other around the paddock.” he replied, walking behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “besides, your dad loooves me. i’m sure he’ll understand that this is for work and publicity.”

you smiled, zipping your dress up and turned to face him. mason pursed his lips, signifying that he was asking for a kiss. you giggled, and eventually leaned in to connect your lips together. when you pulled away, you put your hand on his face and ran the pads of your thumb on his beard–the one you loved doing after you two kissed every time.

“you, sir… look so handsome with your outfit.” you compliment, he was wearing his chequered rhude shirt over some white shirt. you leaned in again for another kiss, deepening it–only pulling away when you heard your phone ring. “okay, before things escalate, i have to go. dad’s calling.”

“your dad’s such a cockblocker.” he teased, earning a slap on the arm from you. “i’m just kidding! i’ll see you when i see you at the paddock.”

mason remembered how he stole a kiss every time you crossed paths at the paddock or at the pit lane during his walk. a lot of people saw and took pictures and videos of it, posting it on social media. that video was trending in the world of f1 and football for a few days before dying down. he remembered seeing tweets and posts on instagram, saying they were jealous of your relationship. he remembered the two of you having dinner at toto and susie’s place, how he was teased by you and jack (toto eventually joined) throughout dinner as he went as red bull’s guest and not mercedes. he remembered lying with you on the deck of a rented yacht, under the sun, enjoying the monte-carlo air.

on the other side of europe, you are woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. you were taking your afternoon siesta before returning back to your home office to continue working, and whoever was calling you in the middle of your nap, may they stub their toe on some furniture. tired, you reached out for your phone and answered the call without looking at the screen.

“hello?” you groggily said, “whoever you are, you’ve interrupted my siesta and i may hate you for that.”

“well, hello to you, my daughter.” your father’s voice rang through your ears. “and i’m sorry if i interrupted your nap, but would you be so kind and open your front door please?”

“what?”

“open the door, i’ve been out here for almost fifteen minutes.”

and off you went to your front door, toto was greeted by a grumpy daughter whose eyebrows were furrowed. you looked at your father, “what are you doing here, dad?”

“no ‘hallo, vater’? no ‘how are you doing, dad?’. none?” he joked, entering your place as you made way for him and closed the door. “okay, i will be quick. come with us to barcelona this weekend.”

your eyes widened, “what? i have work, i can’t just leave.”

“your brother told me that you have a flexible work schedule, that you’re allowed to bring your work everywhere you go.” your dad replied.

“theodore wolff, that little bitch.” you cursed under your breath, you couldn’t help but facepalm with what your brother just did. “dad–”

“i know that tone, y/n wolff.” toto stopped you from continuing your sentence, “come on, it’ll be just like the old days! except your brother isn’t here because his finals week aligned with the weekend in barcelona.”

you bit your lip, making a decision as your father can be impatient. if you go to the race, the possibility of running to george is high–no matter how much effort you exert on avoiding the man, you simply can’t as he is, of course, a driver for mercedes. but, it’ll be good for you as well! you haven’t gone to spain for years, a change of environment and working outside of your home office may be good for you as well. you work only on weekdays, and you’ll be free for the rest of the weekend so you wouldn’t think of work that much in case.

“okay fine, i’ll go with you. when’s the flight?” 

“tonight.”

“TONIGHT?! dad, a little heads up would’ve been nice!”

“i’m sorry, pack your bags and we’ll pick you up by 8.” toto said, planting a kiss on your head. “i’ll go now, we’ll see you later!”

—

on saturday morning, arriving at the paddock with your father, a lot of people approached you by the entrance. some asked for pictures, some for autographs (which you didn’t quite understand), and some were nice enough to greet you. to say that you’re nervous is an understatement. you were returning to the paddock, you’re about to see george, his fiancée–the people you've been avoiding for months were in barcelona with you. you opted to stay in your hotel since your arrival in spain, finishing all the work you have left before proceeding with your weekend. as you walk to the paddock with toto, you could feel your palm sweat and your stomach turn the more you get closer to mercedes’ garage. 

“word is, footballers are in red bull’s garage.” you overheard one of the mechanics upon entering the garage. the word football made you even more nervous than you already were.

“oh come on, mate. i think i’ve seen a few yesterday! that’s old news!”

“i haven’t seen any yesterday but so far, i’ve seen james, felix, chilwell–” please don’t tell me mason is here. “–and mount. just last year they were in monaco, weren’t they?”

the other mechanic nodded his head. mason is here. breathing the same air as you, probably a few metres away from you even. i knew this was a bad idea. you thought to yourself.

“you look like you saw a ghost.” said your father after speaking to the engineers.

you shook your head, “well, i think i’m about to see one today.” you joked, “i-uh, i’ll go out to find something to drink.”

toto raised an eyebrow, a bit unsure of your change of behaviour but you gave him a smile and reassured that you’ll be back. “alright, just…be back before quali, alright?”

you nodded your head and exited the garage. walking around the paddock like you were a normal guest, someone who just wants to enjoy the weekend. but it’s hard when people recognize you as toto wolff’s daughter, and as much as you try to stay away from the crowd, people still approached you. little did you know, someone has spotted you.

“oi, mason!” ben called his teammate, walking towards the man who’re talking with the other players. “guess who i saw walking around the paddock?”

“who?”

ben took a step closer to the younger, whispering your name. mason felt his heart skip a beat, realising the same thing you’ve thought about just a few minutes ago: you were here, breathing the same air as him.

it's funny that you're calling me tonight

and, yes, i've dreamt of you too

and does he know you're talking to me?

will it start a fight?

no, i don't think she has a clue.

needless to say, you were good at hiding. mason had presented the pirelli pole position award to max, he wanted to know if you were there to see him next to the driver. but as he scanned the sea of crowd, you were nowhere to be found. after the qualifying, you returned back to your hotel–reasoning that you were exhausted and had a headache. as soon as you were back, you changed clothes and plopped yourself on the bed. but it wasn’t so soon when your phone started ringing, a number you once called.

“hello?”

“a little birdie told me that you were in the paddock today.”

you sighed, closing your eyes but held the phone close to your earshot. “was it ben?”

“you know it. he’s always liked you–in a platonic way, i mean.”

silence followed right after he had mentioned ben, you were exhausted to even reply. 

“y/n–”

“it’s so funny that you’re calling me tonight, mason.” you said, “i assumed the night i called you, you would’ve blocked my number.”

“you know i would never do that. we’ve been together for a long time, y/n.”

“i must be living in your head, mason.”

mason scoffed on the other end of the line, “well, i wasn’t thinking of you until the night you called.” he replied, “and yes, i’ve dreamt of you too.”

you jolted up from the bed when you heard a knock on the door, with the phone on the other hand you made your way to the door. you didn’t even bother looking through the peephole to see who was knocking on your door late in the night, you just assumed it was your dad. promptly, you opened the door–lo and behold, mason mount was standing in front of you. unable to speak, you still held your phone by your ear and stared at him, him and his stupid smile. mason was the one who ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“hi,” he said, “it’s been a few months, y/n.”

“how did you–what are you–i’m so confused right now.” you expressed, about to shut the door but mason was quick enough to stop you. “what do you want, mason?”

“does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?” he asked, completely ignoring your question and welcomed himself inside your room, shutting the door close. “george. does george know?”

“i called it off with him the night i left a letter for you, mason. i went to his place and i ended things with you both at the same time.”

mason scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “wow,” he exclaimed, “george had the in-person “break-up” and all i got is a stupid fucking letter?”

“mason–”

“that is bullshit, y/n. pure bullshit.” mason barked, “all this time, george got the closure that i should’ve had. me–y/n, i was the one you dated for a long time and all i fucking got is a lousy letter about the truth of your affair with george?”

“i was supposed to, mason!” you yell back, “i was supposed to tell you, but the timing just wasn’t right.”

“and you thought lying straight to my face when i asked you about it, was okay?” you were about to answer, but mason was already rushing to the door. when he was about to exit, he said: “i went here thinking i could finally get the closure i needed, but fuck, was i wrong about this.”

you scoff, “that’s on you, then. you come running to the girl who cheated on you.” you said, “does lia know that you’re still hung up on your past? because i don’t think she has a clue.”

ynwolff

liked by susie_wolff, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and others

ynwolff so many familiar faces here in spain 🇪🇸 here’s a little dump of my weekend here 🤓

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yourbffsig oh i know who those familiar faces were 😉

ynwolff 😂 stop

yourbffsig we’re going to a party tonight after what happened, we need to get wasted!!

ynwolff as long as i make it back home on time and alive, let’s gooo

mercedesamgf1 glad to have you back in the garage, y/n! 🐺

ynwolff glad to see the team secure a double podium, thank you for having me! 🖤

mercedesamgf1 a great weekend indeed!

yourmomsig missing you so much, sweetheart! hope you enjoyed x

ynwolff miss you too mum ❤️

theowolff what about me 😓

ynwolff miss you too dumbass 🙄 you’re the reason why i went so you should’ve been with me, i could’ve avoided an unexpected circumstance hahahah

theowolff if only school let me 💀 but hey, at least you ‘enjoyed’

ynwolff i’m blocking you!!

user1 OMG SHES IN THE PADDOCK WHAT IF SHE SAW OR TALKED TI MASE IM DELULU (ALSO TOTO ON THE LAST SLIDE? LMAO)

user2 stop with these assumptions I BEG YALL

user3 people should learn how to stfu im being fr rn

user4 that’s toto’s reaction when he read your comment

user2 also the cryptic messages HELLO ?? i dont think they saw each other or if they did, it probably didn’t go so well

user3 you’re onto something babes 👀

masonmount

liked by declanrice, benchilwell, redbullracing and others

masonmount thank you redbullracing and jodieporter8 for everything!

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liamendes meu belo homem 😩🫶 i love you!

— ❤️ by masonmount

redbullracing THANK YOU!! 🫶

user5 when i tell yall this man is so FINE 🤌🏻

user6 this man is scrump-DILLY-tious

user7 yall CALM DOWN

user8 mason did something happen between u and y/n bc her posts have some sort of cryptic hints and i kinda wanna know whats going on tnx (jk hahaha love u both)

user9 HELPPP me too 😓 like what does her bff mean when she said “whag happened” and y/n saying “unexpected circumstance” LIKE GIVE ME SOMETHING??? A TEA PERHAPS???

user10 currently dying to know what the fucj happened in barcelona

#mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst #football instagram au #football x reader #football imagine #football angst #football x you #football x y/n

[grogumaximus]

Red Bull's Verstappen could consider joining rivals Mercedes, says Wolff

"There are so many factors that play a role for a driver joining. And clearly, when you look at it from the most rational point of view, you can say that it is the quickest car in the hands of the quickest driver," Wolff said after the Chinese Grand Prix.

"But I don't think that this is the only reason you stay where you are," he added. "Maybe there is some more depths to some people, that consider other factors too. I think Max has that."

Wolff said that Mercedes had held conversations with many drivers over next year's vacant race seat.

"As for Max, no, we are not at the point where we would have discussed years or stuff," Wolff said.

×

Horner swipes back at Wolff over latest Verstappen comments

"I'm going to think carefully about what I say here," Horner said to media when he was told of Wolff's latest remarks. "Have you spoken to Max about this? Because if you speak to Max – and it’s not about pieces of paper at the end of the day, we know that he has a contract to the end of 2028 – it’s about how he feels in the team and the relationship he has in the team and the way he’s performing. "I don’t think Toto’s problems are his drivers; I think he’s probably got other elements that he needs to be focusing on rather than focusing on drivers that are unavailable."

When asked if he would welcome his star driver shutting down the speculation over his future himself, Horner interjected:

“I don’t know how many more times he needs to say it. He said it numerous times. I’m not going get drawn into it – I think sometimes it’s just designed to create noise."

“We moved today ahead of the number of races that Mercedes have won in the modern era, so the team [Red Bull] is in form, why on earth would you want to leave this team?" he contended. “Mercedes are the third team behind their customers at the moment, so I would think his [Wolff’s] time would be better spent perhaps focusing on the team rather than the driver market. "Have any of you heard George Russell is out of contract at the end of ’25? You know, maybe he might not be so keen to stay in ’26 – you know, the market moves around. When RacingNews365 later brought the conversation back to Verstappen's future, casting a light on the fact Verstappen has yet to unequivocally state he will 100% be with Red Bull next season, a defiant Horner replied: "I can assure you that there is no ambiguity as to where Max Verstappen will be next year."

×

#he got him pressed 😭😭😭😭😭 #this is soo funny #toto wolff #christian horner #max verstappen #funny how horner implied that they can survive without max a month ago what changed 😁

[magicalrocketships]

ok im ready to be converted. what f1 fics do u recommend to start my full brain rot?

EXCELLENT, my plan is working (make people like what I like). Here is a very small and somewhat random selection, mostly Daniel/Max except where stated. Extremely loosely grouped. I've said if they're focused on them racing (grid), even if it's an AU. I have not associated anyone's ao3 handle with their tumblr name, so apologies for that. Do come back and tell me your thoughts and feelings. (!!)

F1 TASTING MENU (Maxiel Flavour)

Amuse Bouche: an opening vid

maxiel x 2022 season - “i would just draw it at like, i wouldn’t say love” by @daniel-enchante

Starters (shorter (ish) fics)

Cool Things to Say to Your Soulmate - words by powerfulowl, art by loveleah (grid, E): Only dumbasses get goosed. If a Soulmate Goose of Enforcement comes to intervene in your love life, it is a clear sign you have fucked up. You’re so bad at navigating human relationships that the universe thinks a violent waterfowl impervious to damage and capable of walking through walls will actually improve the situation. 

i carry your heart with me by capsize (grid, M): “What’s up little guy?” Daniel asks – because like his car, Max’s heart is a boy too – and moves the heart from the desk into his lap. “Is Max not paying attention to you? He can be a bit of a cunt, yeah? No, I know.” Or, five times someone found Max’s heart, and one time they kept it.

Just kissed you hello by charlotte_stant (grid, M): Everything freezes for a long moment—and then Daniel’s heart is back to beating and it’s fine, he can see how funny the situation is. “Maximus, my brother, my comrade,” he says, “what the fuck, mate. I’m not gay, ok?"

Amuse Bouche: another vid

max and daniel at redbull by @love-leah

Main Course (longer fics)

Good To You by TheNorthRemembers (grid, E): Max walks and talks like he has a big dick. He always has, and it’s not like Daniel ever really thought about Max’s dick, but he just- He assumed, maybe. That the equipment would match the attitude. That at the very least what Max is packing, would be completely average. The fact, that apparently it’s not- Well. Daniel doesn’t know what to do with that information, in more ways than one. Or: Max a small dick, Daniel is into it; lots of sex and a bit of angst ensue

my kind's your kind by hardlythewiser (grid, series, E, Max/Kelly/Daniel, resolving with Max/Daniel): Max can talk about it now, out of bed, casual. Kelly helped him practice, talking about it like it was just another activity, like her tennis lessons or nights out with friends, ever since that first time. But she doesn't say anything now.

To the Victor Belong the Spoils by powerfulowl (hunger games AU, E): Daniel didn’t kill anyone in the arena. He’s the one untarnished Hunger Games victor. The beautiful boy who stole the hearts of Panem with a fishing net and a smile. He can kiss babies and sell sun cream and fuck who they tell him to fuck and suck on the fingers that feed him– he’s not gonna bite. But then Max wins the Hunger Games. Max bites.

Amuse Bouche: vid time

"what's going on between you and max verstappen?" by @love-leah

Dessert (where the focus is on sex)

Sweeter than I ever knew by purples_all_the_way_down (grid, girls, E): Daniel has never had an orgasm. Somehow (Charles, it's always Charles), Max gets involved. Things get complicated.

I just want to know you like nobody ever has by 33Max (grid, E): They are in the bathroom, Daniel had insisted that he needed a shower if they were going to do this. He’s still damp, Max hadn’t even waited for him to dry himself off before he was pushing Daniel against the counter and dropping to his knees behind him.

Coffee (something different)

both hands tied on the wheel by kayshea (George Russell/Toto Wolff, grid, E): George feels, stupidly, like a cat that’s been stroked. Like his skin is electric. It’s what everyone has been saying to him all day, but it feels different, somehow, coming from Toto.

if i should come upon your house lonely by withfeathers (Lewis Hamilton/Hanna Prater/Sebastian Vettel, grid, E): The summer after Sebastian's retirement, Lewis visits Switzerland for a week. Nothing about it goes as he expected.

#fic recs #maxiel #f1blr #fics I wish I was reading #(again) #maybe I will just reread them all right now #also if your fic is on this list and i haven't commented yet #it is coming #feral primer

[charles-leclerc-official]

Why Bahrain 2024 likely hurt Sainz seat options in 2025

So this essay is going to be my thoughts about why Carlos' performance in Bahrain 2024 on and off the track did not help his chances of securing a good seat in 2025.

I want to make it clear that I do think Carlos is a decent driver. He's had some good races(not the ones people usually point to but that's not the point here) . I am approaching this from the perspective that he is a solid driver. Which makes his current situation only more unusual. 

Quick summary of what happened: Carlos started his race in P4 behind George Russell, teammate Charles, and Max on pole.

On lap 11 Carlos overtook Charles(who was clearly struggling and was dealing with a major brake mechanical issue) in a risky move that came close to causing a collision. 

The rest of his race was uneventful. He held on to P3 mainly because Charles and George had major mechanical problems with their cars.

I already stated that the overtake he pulled on Charles was unnecessarily risky, and did not serve the team. Ferrari were very likely going to have them swap(because Carlos' car was working properly) It was obvious that would be the strategy, but he went for an unnecessary and risky overtake to gain a position. 

He finished his race in P3. 

Main takeaways from the race:

Sainz set a slower fastest lap than his teammate who was operating on compromised brakes.

That overtake is not really impressive. 1. It was unnecessary, anyone who knows race strategy would be able to figure out what the plan would be(to eventually have drivers trade places). 2. Dangerous to potentially cause a collision between teammates(bad for the team) 3. It isn't really showing much skill to be able to overtake a car on bad brakes.

Overall the race performance wasn't anything remarkable, it was predictable and didn't require any crazy driving on Sainz' part to achieve.

So what does this all mean?

Well it's easy to think looking at the 2025 driver market that Sainz, who is a solidly good driver, should have no problem finding a seat.

However the way he is playing the game on and off track is making him a difficult choice, especially for top teams.

Carlos says he wants to be world champion one day, and that his goal for his next seat is to be in a car that has the best chance of giving him that. Okay well there are limited options. 

Because yes there are a lot of open seats, but none of the top teams are looking for a first driver. And that is where Sainz is in trouble. Most teams are looking for a second driver(or are not competitive)

Let's examine.

Mercedes: Well they are losing Lewis Hamilton. And Sainz might be a good fit. But they aren't looking for a first driver. They have George, who is more experienced at Mercedes and after being second to Lewis for years he isn't going to be taking a backseat to whoever comes next.

On top of the fact that Merc are clearly trying to keep their options open for Kimi Antonelli to join in the next few seasons. They are looking for someone who can fill the seat in the meantime, bring home points and not cause trouble.

Sainz has shown he'll do the opposite and probably does not want to be replaced by a rookie after a short contract.

Merc was thrown a curve-ball when Lewis left. Sainz is actually a good choice of second driver. The fact that they have an open seat and didn't go to him immediately speaks volumes. 

Red Bull: this is where I think Carlos really shot himself in the foot. 

There is a Red Bull seat potentially opening up. This is ideal if you want to be at the front of the field fighting for podiums.

However Max is RB number 1. They make that abundantly clear. And Red Bull as a team are especially no nonsense when it comes to second drivers staying in line. Carlos has never been competitive against Max, so the pecking order there is clear. 

If you want that Red Bull seat you have to show you are a solid driver who can be that second seat and won't mess up their number 1. The second you start causing trouble you're out.

Once again Carlos showed he'll do the opposite. That if he thinks he has a chance he will take it regardless of if it's smart, safe, or in the interest of the team.

Carlos is racing like he only cares about his own results. That in itself is not a crime. All drivers do need to think like that to an extent. However being driven by that mentality given there aren't any number 1 seats open at top teams is a problem. That mentality just clashes with the ecosystem other teams have already worked out, and it makes him a difficult option to seriously consider. 

So we've covered how his performance and driving overall didn't help. Now let's get into after the race.

After the race Carlos tried to claim he had similar bake issues to Charles(this is factually untrue. He may have had slight brake imbalance settings but it is completely different than Charles having a 100 degree temp imbalance. Race data and team radio does not support his claim)

This was a very obvious manipulation of the truth to try to make it seem like he drove a better race than his teammate(again this is incorrect, and data proves the opposite) 

Once again this kind of rhetoric does not help build a positive image of what he's like to work with and how he will play in a team.

After that he may have options at some of the mid-field teams. However if he shows hes too difficult to work with they will likely explore other options 

Carlos Sainz is a good driver. I don't think he's amazing, but he's decent and pretty reliable. Has experience in upper teams. Any mid field team should be wooing him. The fact that they aren't is once again, very telling.

The fact he is making himself so difficult to work with that teams who have seats to fill aren't trying to more aggressively campaigning for him says a lot.

I know he doesn't want a midfield team. And I'm sure some have reached out. My concern is that he is so focused on trying to get a top seat that he is less and less likely to get by the day, that he is hurting his chances at a good midfield seat.

Being difficult in the press and messy is something teams consider. You can get away with anything if you have the skills to back it up. Sainz doesn't. He talks about himself and his abilities like he's won a championship, when in reality he's won 2 GP and those were not seriously competitive races. 

Here's the thing. I think the results this weekend on paper look good. That in addition to the struggles both Charles and George were having, Carlos' outcome would have been the same. 

This isn't about the result, it's about how it was achieved and how he is speaking about it.

There is a version of this race that has the exact same overall results but looks better for Carlos.

What Carlos should have done is wait for the safe opportunity to pass Charles(likely backed by team orders) hold onto P3(which he did do) and then in the press after say he's happy to get a result for the team and express some sympathy for Charles’ brake issues. It's the very little things that make a big difference.

My main point being, Sainz is obviously trying to prove himself for a seat in 2025. He is doing this by putting himself first in any way possible. This is the opposite of what he should be doing optically to appeal to teams. He needs to show that he is reliable, takes team orders and can play the role of second driver. Or at the very least not stir the pot too much. 

He's doing the opposite and it's probably going to cost him his chances at either the Red Bull or Mercedes seats. 

If he was my driver I would be like "what are you doing?" Because he isn't helping himself.

Ultimately I think that Sainz' actions are a miscalculation on his position in the driver market. He's good, but trying to artificially prop himself up and expressly demonstrate on track that he will be difficult with teammates is not going to land in his favor.

#carlos sainz critical #let me know your thoughts in the comments or asks #no reblogs because I don't need this spreading too much for obvious reasons

[charlesslut16]

Hi girl,

Just thought I’d start out by saying I love you fan fictions I just think that you are so talented 😊

Anyway onto the fanfiction request. Can I request a George Russell imagine, where the reader is plus sized and works a regular job (you can decide what that job would be) anyway she doesn’t look like the other WAGs, she doesn’t like the designer brands and all the spotlight that comes with being a WAG. So she stands in the mirror and questions why George picked her to be his girlfriend and how he could do better, and he is standing behind the bathroom door hearing all this stuff that she is saying about her self and he sort of confronts her about and soothes her and it’s all cute at the end.

Many Thanks, Rebecca 😊

-Cingulomania-

summary : cingulomania : A strong desire to hold a person in your arms. George wants to hold you after the horrible things you said about yourself.

PAIRING : george russell x fem!plus sized!reader

WARNINGS : angst, insecurity, bad talk about body image (you look amazing!)

note : If you are in such a situation, please go and talk to someone about it! I am also here if you want to talk to me. I love you!

masterlist   

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

You had met george in the early state of his Formula One career. George came to the restaurant you worked at with his family and as you served them, you and george had an instant connection.

After the dinner, george came up to the bar you were working from at the moment and had asked for your number. You gave it to him and your journey together began.

You started going on dates together and the more the two of you had done, the more you two fell in love with one another. It was a match made in heaven.

His family and you or only you alone had come to his races. All of George's fans were so happy that he had finally found someone to make him happy. But after some time, every thing wasn't as good as before.

George had become more famous, which meant more people were looking at you and him. This made you very uncomfortable. You didn't look like the typical wag.

You had never liked or felt comfortable with the designer brands or make - up, that the other wags wore. The spotlight that came with being a wag didn't agree with you either. 

And the fact that you were not on the skinny side of life made it even more frustrating. You hated how you looked, and most especially how you looked next to other wags.

Due to you feeling that way about yourself, you now stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom you shared with george. The only things you wore were a pair of panties, a bra and some high knee socks.

The skin of your breasts was on the verge of spilling, your stomach stuck out and the skin of your thighs was also on the verge of spilling out of your high knee socks.

You thought that you looked hideous. The bad thoughts were flooding your mind. And there was one question that was in your head since the day you started dating,

Why did George choose you to be his girlfriend?

You couldn't get a grip on it. He was one of the fittest drivers on the entire grid, so why did he ask you. You thought that you looked very ugly, but george had other thoughts about it.

What you didn't know, was that while you were looking at yourself in the mirror, George came home. He called out your name, but you didn't hear him, so he walked up to your shared bedroom.

Just as george wanted to open the door, he heard you talking. He was smiling, he heard your voice, but the smile faded quickly as he heard what you had said about yourself.

"George could do so much better than me."

"I don't understand why he chose me."

"I mean, I look so ugly"

"I'm not a model, I'm just a normal girl, who works at a restaurant."

Your boyfriend furrowed his brows at your statements. He was perplexed. You were the most beautiful girl in this whole universe, His angel that was made for him.

George opened the door what out letting another minute pass by. He couldn't hear all the bad things that you said about yourself. You were his girlfriend, his beautiful, smart girlfriend.

You jumped as you heard the door open. At the door stood george with a sad expression on his face. The door closed and george walked up to you, took your hand in his and walked with you to the bed.

The second he opened his mouth to say something, he stopped because you weren't looking at him. So he tilted your chin up with his middle and index finger.

"Baby, why would you say something like this about yourself?"

"I-I mean, it's true. Have you ever looked at me? I look so ugly, why would you ever choose me, I don't understand."

"What do you mean, why would I ever choose you? I love you. I wanted you to be my girlfriend, because you are smart, witty, beautiful and independent. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"But I'm not like the other wags. I'm not skinny, I don't like designer things, I hate being in the spotlight. You could have everyone but you want me, why. I'm normal, nothing special. "

"You are special to me! I don't need a skinny model who only wants my money. I want you, my beautiful, smart girlfriend, who loves working at the restaurant and reading. Please don't ever talk about yourself like that."

"I can't. I don't. Í don't feel good about my self."

"Well, I'm here for you and I will remind you how beautiful you look. Can you promise me that i you ever feel like this again, you will tell me? Please."

"Promise."

George looked you in the eyes and held up his hand with his pinky finger out. Every time you promised something to each other, you made a pinky promise. You intertwined your finger with his and smiled.

"Pinky promise, georgie."

"Thank you gorgeous."

"I love you, bubs"

"I love you, sweetheart."

He took you into his arms and hugged you, while he stroked your hair and whispered encouragements and sweet comments inside your ear, He never wanted you to feel like this.

For the days that you didn't have enough love for yourself, george was there and gave enough love for the both of you.

#f1 #formula one #george russell blurb #george russel x reader #george russel imagine #george russell imagine #george russell #george russell oneshot #george russell x reader #george russell x y/n #george russell fanfic #formula 1 #f1 angst #f1 one shot

[buckybarnesthehotshot]

Everyone’s Favorite Interview Crasher (Daniel Ricciardo x Ferrari Driver! Reader)

|main masterlist|

summary: daniel crashes y/n’s post-race interview

word count: 848

a/n: i feel like this man was just all over the place this weekend, i love it sm

        “Daniel Ricciardo, you pulled off climbing to P5 from P16, how do you feel about that?” y/n questioned, turning to Daniel with the mic she was initially being interviewed with. The camera crew laughed at the two drivers as they watched the antics unfold. 

        Both their press officers shared a look, already aware of how unproductive things were bound to be whenever the two were put together. 

        “Oh, uh,” he chuckled as y/n pushed the mic to his mouth, “It was great, you know. The team did really well, and the conditions were a bit tricky, but we managed to push through. I mean you did great as well! You were literally on the podium earlier.” 

        “We aren’t talking about me, Daniel Ricciardo,” she tried her best to deadpan her voice, unable to keep her giggles in. 

        “You know you don’t have to keep saying my name, right?” Daniel laughed. They probably looked ridiculous at that point. A Ferrari and a McLaren driver, both laughing as they derailed their interview. 

        “I like saying your name,” she shrugged, “Just rolls right off the tongue. Don’t you think, Daniel Ricciardo.” 

        Daniel shook his head with a chuckle before continuing, “I think I’m going to agree with you there, y/n l/n.” 

        “What message do you think you finishing this high up in the points sends to your team, Daniel Ricciardo,” she questioned jokingly, poking at the corner of his lip with her microphone. 

        “Ah, mate, are you trying to get us both in trouble here?” he chuckled before feigning going for a bite from the microphone. 

        “We’re already in trouble, you’re crashing my interview,” she reminded him, “Wait, Charles told me you did the same with him this weekend as well.” 

        “Ah, that’s me. Daniel Ricciardo, everyone’s favorite interview crasher,” he smiled proudly, “This is probably the fourth or fifth interview I’ve crashed this week, honestly. I don’t know how it keeps happening.” 

        “Far better than crashing your car, I guess,” y/n shrugged nonchalantly as both she and Daniel broke out in another fit of laughter, “Here’s to finishing today’s race. May every race after not be as tricky as this one was.” 

        “I second that.” 

        “Also, whose interviews have you disrupted this weekend? I’m curious about your kill count now.” 

        “Well, there was Charles, obviously. Russell George as well, then there was Max, and uh, Pierre and Yuki, I think.” 

        “You’ve been busy this weekend.” 

        “I have! Do you know how hard it is to find interviews to crash?” he stated sarcastically, though they were both aware it was almost a guarantee that there’d be a driver interview ongoing at any given moment on the track. 

        “Right, I respect the hustle,” y/n nodded, almost completely forgetting about the fact that she was meant to be in an interview. 

        “Since you’re both here already, how do you both feel after the race?” the interviewer questioned, a frail attempt of salvaging what had been left of y/n’s post-race interview. 

        “Tired,” y/n admitted bluntly, “But um, I know I could have done better out there, but I’m pretty happy with the outcome.” 

        “Oh, uh, I’m definitely very happy with the result earlier. It’s been a while since my last top 5, so the team’s pretty happy about that as well,” Daniel smiled. 

        “Been a long time coming as well,” y/n nodded along with Daniel, a genuine smile on her face at the thought of Daniel finally getting a good race result again.

        “Right? My last top 5, I think, was about a year ago?” 

        “Oh, really long time coming then,” y/n nodded, plastering a smile onto her face, “You deserve it, though. Maybe next time we can go wheel-to-wheel for a podium.” 

        “You’ve got the faster car anyways,” Daniel reminded her. 

        “Maybe I’ll get a bit of floor damage?” she suggested in a joking manner, “Really, though, I’m looking forward to seeing you in the points more.”

        “So demanding, this one,” Daniel shook his head jokingly, hand motioning to y/n, “But uh, yeah, definitely would like to be in the points more. Let’s just hope some of your Ferrari luck rubs off on me.” 

        “What luck?” y/n quipped. 

        “At the rate you’re going, we’re both going to end up unemployed by the end of the year.” 

        “Right, wouldn’t want that,” y/n shook her head, correcting her statement, “Ferrari is very lucky…” 

        She then muttered something incoherent, making Daniel burst out in a fit of laughter, confusing the interviewers. 

        “She just said that Ferrari was lucky to have her,” Daniel explained, gazing fondly upon her, “You know, I think you’ve been spending way too much time with me already.” 

        “Right, you should probably go get your own interview for me to crash,” she nodded, as he made his way towards where he was meant to be interviewed, she paused for a moment, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

        “What was that for?” 

        “I’m proud of you,” she smiled as he walked away, a wide grin on his face, “Congrats again, Daniel!” 

Bonus gifs i almost used for this post: 

F1 TAGS: @errrrrat (taglist open)​  

DANIEL RICCIARDO TAGS: @a-distantdreamer​ (taglist open)

#daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo #F1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 x you #Formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 x you

[blorbocedes]

cannot believe you have me searching for george russell videos but here we are my beloved. i need people to understand that gr is not a natural born tory, not in the way that alex and lando are. alex and lando were born to rich, bougie families. they both went to private school (lando actually went to the same school as the king of thailand, and his father is one of the uk's wealthiest people, that's how rich his family are) and it is clear in the way that they speak.

the uk is absolutely preoccupied with accent and class and the intersection of the two. the most 'acceptable' accent to have is received pronunciation, which is generally thought of as being the southern accent, but is more precisely the accent of wealthier, middle to upper class people from the home counties (the counties surrounding London), particularly the wealthier parts of London, Oxford, and Cambridge. think judi dench, vanessa kirby, stephen fry, joanna lumley, helen mirren for an accent reference.

neither alex nor lando are from these areas, lando is from Bristol and alex is from Suffolk, both of which have distinct accents of their own, but they both speak with a fairly RP accent because of their wealth, class, and education. alex's accent is 'better', it's more crisp, and captures the phonetic rhythm more accurately. it's also slightly more nasal at times than lando's form, but lando's so much whinier that his accent is always more snobbish than alex's.

george, on the other hand, is actually from the general RP area. he was raised in Wisbeach, in Cambridgeshire, so the pattern of his speech and the general way in which he forms sounds matches that of the RP accent. but if you listen to this, an interview taken when he was fourteen (his speaking starts at around the 40 second mark) you'll notice a big difference in the way that he talks to the way in which alex and lando speak. this is the point at which class comes in. now, while i'm pretty sure that george and his family are middle class, george's accent is 'common' enough to suggest that they're certainly not an upper middle class family (yes, there are layers upon layers to the british class system, yes it's stupid and terrible) and likely only lower middle class. this is also supported by the fact that george went to grammar school (a state funded school, but one that is selective and requires you to pass a test to get in) rather than a private school (there are many private schools in the area that george grew up in, and in general private schools care less if you miss lots of school for competitions etc because you're paying).

because accent is linked so much to class, and therefore access to education because the british school system is broken, having a RP accent is an instinctive indicator of wealth and intelligence. it's clear that george has put effort into his accent and ensuring that it is crisper, shortening some vowels and ensuring that he enunciates his consonants, but even so, if you listen to him here, you can still tell that he was raised and educated amidst the 'common people'. similarly, he's evidently put a lot of effort into dressing in a certain way to give the impression of wealth and sophistication. the accent, the clothes, the hobbies (see this photo of him playing croquet, this photo of him cycling in the ponciest way possible, and this photo of him cosplaying shooting at balmoral) are all carefully curated to give the impression of a man who is rich and well-educated from the upper echelons of british society. he's trying to seem like the motorsports version of hugh grant, but the accent betrays him ever so slightly.

this doesn't mean that he's not still a tory of course. he's obscenely wealthy, definitely a queen fucker, and has an almost baffling lack of charm that goes hand in hand with the belief that capitalism is a good thing and that liz truss is an acceptable choice to lead the country (we're definitely not a global laughing stock), but he's definitely not the same kind of tory as lando, though like you i don't think lando has ever voted in his life whereas george definitely had an orgasm the moment that he dropped his Conservative vote into the ballot box (we do still use actual bits of paper that you draw on with a pencil, isn't british democracy wonderful).

anon you are so out of this world in levels of scholarship. i felt like I was reading an academic paper I was nodding along, I was going why of course, yes, as if I have Any idea what differentiates a posh British accent from a common pleb 😭

this is truly... wow. you've convinced me I now believe GR is Not a trueborn posh boy silver spoon of Mayfair but is desperately trying to fit in by being the Most tory of all... something about George Trying intentionally to sound more upper class is so... George...and having a chip on his shoulder cause his peers are so effortlessly belonging to said class, like you Know lando has never thought about pronunciation once in his lifetime, he doesn't even know what the word means! or how Alex is so perfectly pleasant and well bred and his Friend but also everything that doesn't come to him with ease, that he has to carefully think about and project... I just know he saw David Beckham queuing 13 hours for the queen's ash box and if it lands him a knighthood George is gonna 🔫 Charles (prince not leclerc) himself so he can stand in line for 20 hours !!!

it feels only fitting to post this now that wet lettuce has outlived Liz Truss 🥬 lmaoooo but you're right... GR absolutely got a hard-on voting for the Conservative party... he has a little pin that says for queen and country... cheers 🥂🥂🍾

i actually love anons like this cause wow you know what You're talking about and I'm just here to make hehe joke . this is where I develop a parasocial relationship with my anons and wish you were my friend so I could spam about GR larping as a posh boy despite Being a millionaire in your dms (this is an open invite to slide) but thank you for this essay, I truly enjoyed reading it ahaha <3

#George Russell #it's about sociolinguistics it's about class it's about desperately wanting to be an extra on The Crown #George Russell's suspiciously middle class accent? 🤨📸 #everyone look at the Size of this thing #adapted into my world view etc etc #once again forming a parasocial relationship with my anons #blorbocedes ask

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm looking out for you (George Russell)

When work pressure starts having a role in your relationship, things get complicated and need to be talked about

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and while I'm not actively taking requests, I am writing some blurbs when I can so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: couple fight

You had been enjoying the sun in the balcony on your work break, the time ticking down until you had to go back inside to sit in front of the laptop again and send the documents in. Fast forward to a few hours later, some glitch in the program not working in your favour as you tried to get everything together and right to send in, not even listening to George get home and call for you. "Y/N, I have been calling for you f- oh, you're still working", and you were so focused in making things right that you managed to look at him and smile quickly before looking back at the screen, not noticing his annoyed tone. Finally, you managed to conclude what you were doing, heading to the living room to greet your boyfriend properly, finding him on the sofa, "Hello, my love, how was your day? Sorry I didn't greet you just then, but my laptop messed up something and I couldn't solve it until now", you said as you tried to peck his cheek, noticing his quietness and stiffness, "are you okay? Did something bad happen today?", you asked softly before he looked at you, a stern expression on his features, "It's not like you have to submit it right then, what difference is it going to make if you do it later?", George said without thinking much about it, "you can submit later, you do it later", he concluded as he grabbed his phone and texted something on it. That deadline is important for you.

It's something silly for some, but for you it would be everything to do it at the right time and not wait like your colleagues wanted to do, knowing how those things worked especially when it came to get more job offers and establish yourself in your new job market, "I need to send it still, and then I'll be done", you tried to approach the situation calmly, "it's always this document, or this deadline that needs to be met. Everyone wants something to do with your work", he said and you felt the need to defend yourself, "I'm finally happy in a job that I love. Yes, I need to prove myself but I'm proud of myself for the fact that I have responsibilities and that people seek me for help and advice on something", you gulped, not enjoying the tone the conversion was taking, "would it hurt if you just stopped a little? Slowed down?", he forwarded and it hurt you. More than he'd ever understand apparently, the words leaving your mouth as you tried to stop the tears leaving your eyes, "I don't care if you're the best driver of the best team out there! In this household our dreams and ambitions should be equally important!", you stated, "I don't ask that you change your routine because of mine", you took a deep breath, seeing that your boyfriend did not want to say anything else, "if you'll excuse me", you said before leaving the living room and heading back to the office, checking over the submission you were making before sending it in and closing the laptop for the day.

Sitting in the bedroom, you heard George in the kitchen, probably making something to eat, before you decided to go and have a shower, wanting to go to sleep and forget about this awful day, putting on your pyjamas after drying your body just in time for George to head upstairs. Despite having made the promise at the beggining of your relationship that you'd never go to bed mad at eachother, you voiced your feelings when George sat on the mattress, "I'm not mad at what you said, but I'm sad and disappointed that you think like that", before turning to face him, "can we talk about this tomorrow?", he asked, "sure", you said, "I love you", he finished as you were turning your back to him, fluffing your pillow before attempting to fall asleep.

The next morning was strange for George. He didn't have you in bed to greet with kisses, and when he went down in hopes to make a coffee and bring it to you in the office, he did not find you anywhere in the house, assuming you had decided to go and work at the company's office. He drove to Brackley and got on with his day, managing to forget the nagging feeling on his head and at the pit of his stomach for a bit and focusing on the tasks ahead of him.

"Are you okay, George?", he heard Toto ask him at the end of the last meeting, noticing then that they were the only ones left in the room, "just some stuff at home, sorry", he honestly said, knowing by now he wouldn't get anywhere without being honest, "whatever it is, you two will work it out together", he winked before leaving him with a pat on the back. Yeah, that's what he was going to do when he got home. Talk to you so he could understand why it happened like that, hoping you too had some time to think about it.

He got home early on, deciding on making some lunch for the two of you while he waited for you to get home, wanting you to have something to eat later, but your car only arrived a few hours later than he expected, the sound of the door that connected the garage to the rest of the house alerting him of your presence inside, making him head to the kitchen to greet you, "hi, I made food earlier, there's some on the fridge if you want", your boyfriend offered while you shook your head, "hey, I had some food with Louise, I'm not hungry, thanks though", you stated simply.

It was weird for you to talk to him like that, to not go over to him and kiss his cheek or enjoy his cuddles but you still couldn't shake the feeling. Was your work really less in his perspective? And if so, how could you work it out with that information? Could you live in a relationship where you knew you weren't valued and, at any time, could get a comment like that? That's not something you were going to out up with... This was George. Your boyfriend who you had moved in with two years ago, and who you were pretty sure was the one for your life. Things are never easy, but they definitely don't have to be like this.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually", George began, catching your attention, "about this whole thing, I don't like this between us", he gestured to the invisible barrier between you, "I don't like it either, but I won't stay where things are like this", you defended yourself, preparing for the worst, "Darling, I don't want to be like this either. Can we work this out?", he said, making you sigh.

"I never did anything wrong, at least in my view, and I didn't like the words you gave me. What I was doing was important, it matters to me. And while I'm not asking that it matters to you, I'm wondering if you can support me. Or stay neutral about it", you mused back, genuinely concerned you wouldn't be able to get to where you were before in your relationship, "I will never ask that of you. I just wanted you to see that you're doing it a lot. Always working. It's here, it's outside the house, it's at the races. I don't even know how to help you anymore", he confessed and, in the heat of the moment, all of the words seemed to go out of the window, as well as some rationality, "I have to make this for myself, George, not all of us get to have things at the snap of fingers", you said and immediately wanted to take it back. He worked hard for what he achieves, just like you, so you were nor being fair with him either considering why you were fighting in the first place. As he was about to answer you, his phone rang, Aleix's name showing up on the screen as he excused himself to pick it up after it kept ringing, rubbing his temples before turning to you, "Aleix has some tests for me to do, and the medical team can't do them any other day. I have to leave in 10 minutes", he looked at his watch, "and I need to get ready. I'm sorry.", he said honestly, "no worries, go and do that. I'll be here when you come back", you said, spurring in him some confidence that maybe it wasn't all lost.

You had watched an episode of your favourite show when you hear the gravel outside, wondering who had gotten in the driveway. Maybe one of your friends? Family perhaps? But after they opened the garage, you knew it was George, and a quick check over the clock allowed to figure something was amiss.

"Didn't you have a training session?", you asked him, seeing him in his workout gear still, face flushed when he got to the living room, "I had to leave, and come back here. To you, and to talk to you. Because you don't deserve what I said to you. I'm sorry. I said things in the heat of the moment after a really long day. It's not an excuse, but it is me being honest", he said, "there isn't a day where I'm not proud of what you do and what you achieve. I'm always telling people how proud I am of you and all of your achievements, and in no way, shape or form do I believe that you should stop what you're doing to benefit me. If anything, I'm worried for you. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I want you to take time for yourself, and do things that you like, spend time with people you love", he gulped, looking at your eyes briefly in hopes that he still was one of those people, "of course we are both successful people in this house, each of us on our own way", he tried to hold your hand in his, regretting his move and backing his hand away, "I would never want you to behave differently for your work, but I want you to be happy and healthy and not overworked, that's all", he tried to gather any thoughts he had left.

Taking a big breath, your hand reached out for his, "I want to make a good impression, George, and I really need to have things all ready and on time. I'm sorry I didn't deal with it better too. We both said things we didn't mean, I guess", you looked into his eyes, looking to reassure him and get some reassurance from him, "I will find a way to manage it better", you proposed, "and I'll respect that, while still making sure you don't overrun yourself", he winked as his hand moved away from yours to cup your face, "I'm only looking out for you, I'm sorry that it came out in such a tone".

#george russell imagine #george russell × reader #george russell fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[smicksstuff]

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[danielfuckingricciardo]

Love Actually - George Russell x Reader

Pairing - Prime Minister!George Russell x Reader

Word Count - 3.8k

Content Warnings - Swearing, an overwhelming amount of biscuit-related metaphors and jokes, awkward British flirting, sickeningly sweet fluff, very slight angst, Christian Horner is the bad guy, happy ending.

Synopsis - You are the new catering manager at number 10 Downing Street, starting your job on the same day as newly-elected Prime Minister George Russell. What you don’t expect, is to fall for him so quickly, and for him to reciprocate your feelings.

Author’s Note - If you can’t tell, this is totally based on the love story between Hugh Grant’s character and Martine McCutcheon’s character in the film Love Actually, which is one of the best Christmas films ever made! Sorry for getting off track with these, I will be writing the fics I didn’t post before Christmas between now and new year, so I should hopefully be able to catch up with what I’ve missed! I felt like this was perfect for George, I think he’d be a good prime minister, though honestly, with the state the country is in right now under the fucking tories, I’ll take anyone with their head screwed on right lol 😂 Anyway, without further ado, let’s go!

You stand in the grand hallway of 10 Downing Street, your hands shaking slightly by your sides as you hear the shouting of journalists and the clicking of camera shutters from outside the door.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to get the job when you had applied, only going for it on a whim. Your mother always said ‘the worst thing they can say is no’ but at this very moment you realised she wasn’t exactly right. The worst thing they could say is yes, and then you’d be stood, shaking like a leaf, as you wait for the new Prime Minister to enter his new home and greet you.

George Russell had barely won the election. From what you’d overheard during your induction shift, it had been almost too close to call, and the party were already scouting out coalition partners to affirm their position as heads of state. But the final constituency clinched it, a historic Conservative stronghold turned red for the first time in years, giving the party enough of a majority to lead the government alone.

You were happy, after all, you weren’t sure that you’d be able to serve tea and biscuits to a Tory. It wasn’t something you’d really considered when you applied for the job, but you were overjoyed to see the man you voted for celebrate onscreen as you finalised your contracts for your new position.

The door to Number 10 creaks open, and a serious looking man walks through the door with Larry the cat at his heels. Larry immediately runs over to you, taking a seat beside your feet and meowing up at you.

You bend to stroke him between the ears, and he immediately begins purring at your touch. The cat sprawls out at your feet, revealing his fluffy belly to you which you stroke gently.

The housekeeper, a kindly woman in her late fifties, gives you a tap on the shoulder and you look up, to see Prime Minister George Russell stood before you.

You shoot up, smoothing down your skirt with an awkward smile. George holds his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m sorry sir, I never could resist the urge to pet a cat.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

“It’s okay, I heard Larry is quite the judge of character, so it’s a good sign, I assure you.” George says, offering you a nervous smile.

“(Y/n) is new here too, sir, she’s to be your catering manager.” The man stood beside George says.

“Ah, so it’s your first day here too? The first day in a job is always quite scary.” George says, and you nod your head.

“I was absolutely shitting myself when I first got here sir.” You say, immediately wincing at the fact you had just sworn in front of the new Prime Minister.

“Oh god, I’m mortified, I really just said ‘shit’ to you, didn’t I?” You say, your cheeks instantly turning red. “And I just said it again, I’m so sorry, sir!”

“It’s alright, I believe what you said was ‘shitting’ actually, but you could have said fuck or some variation of fuck which would have been much worse.” George says, offering you a small smile.

“Well, thank fuck for that, eh?” You say, your eyes immediately going wide, your cheeks burning even more as you urge your brain to do something about the situation you had found yourself in.

“Thank fuck for that indeed.” George says, chuckling slightly as he is pulled away by the man beside him towards the large staircase in the centre of the grand hallway.

The housekeeper places her hand on her shoulder, and you exhale a shaky breath.

“I was so nervous I didn’t know what to say and then all these words just came tumbling out of my mouth. I’m going to get fired, aren’t I?” You say, and she gives you a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t worry dear, we all get nervous, and he doesn’t seem the type to fire someone over something as silly as a swear word or two.” She says, and you sigh.

“I hope so. I think Larry the cat has already gotten attached.” You say, looking down at the feline who was circling your legs, brushing against them gently to urge you to pet him some more.

Everyone clears the hallway and you bend down to pet Larry once again.

“I bet you don’t have this problem, do you?” You say to the cat as you scratch between his ears, and he lets out a satisfied meow.

“I thought not.” You say, before standing and walking over to the kitchen, with Larry following you every step of the way.

-

Not long after your first meeting, you find yourself walking up the staircase of Number 10 towards the office of the Prime Minister himself, a tray in your hands containing a China cup and saucer, and a plate of chocolate biscuits.

Larry had refused to leave your side since first meeting him, and now followed you up the stairs a little too closely. You stumble slightly as he steps between your feet, and you fight to find your balance without the aid of your hands which were occupied by the Prime Minister’s refreshments.

“I can see you’re going to be trouble.” You say to the cat as you find your footing at the top of the stairs, and Larry meows at you, stopping to lick his paws in the middle of the hallway.

You reach the door to the office, balancing the tray on one hand to knock lightly on the door.

“Come in.” George shouts from behind the door and you twist the handle, stepping into the office.

George offers you a warm smile when he spots you, and you offer him the same smile in return, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

You set down the tray before him on his desk, and he immediately takes the cup in his hands, swallowing a large gulp of hot tea.

You turn on your heels to exit, but quickly reconsider and whirl back around.

“I’m sorry, about earlier. I didn’t mean to be so… crude with my language. I’d understand if you’d want to hire someone else instead.” You say, and George looks up at you over his cup.

“Crikey, no, it’s not a problem. Everyone gets nervous, especially on their first day on the job. Between you and me, I’m shitting it too. First thing on my agenda is ‘fix the country’ which, based on the state my predecessor left it in, isn’t going to be an easy job. But it will be made considerably easier if you keep making perfect cups of tea like this one.” George says, and you smile.

“I’m glad you won. I would have done the job if the other guy had won, but it was you I voted for, sir. I just wouldn’t have made him good tea, I’d have used the cheap tea bags and skimmed milk.” You chuckle, and George laughs too.

“Call me George, please. It feels a bit weird having people call me sir when really my job is to serve the people. That’s what we’re supposed to do, anyway, as Prime Ministers, but most of them end up cocking that part up and just serving themselves instead.” George says, before taking another sip of tea.

“You’re right there, sir, I mean, George.” You say, leaning forwards slightly to lift the plate of biscuits off of the tray and set them down on his desk.

You glance up at him for a moment, and realise his eyes are very much not on your face but are instead looking much lower, and you blush.

George notices you looking at him and his eyes immediately find the wall, his own face decorated with a light blush.

You lift the tray and tuck it beneath your arm.

“Is there anything else you need, si- George?” You ask, and George’s eyes finally find your own again.

“No, this is perfect, I mean, the tea is perfect, thank you.” George sputters, and you smile at him, before turning on your heels to walk back towards the door.

What you didn’t realise, was that Larry had followed you into George’s office, and had sat himself beside your feet once again. You trip over his fluffy body, managing to regain your footing just about and avoiding the embarrassment of falling onto the floor.

You rush over to the door, almost disappearing behind it before popping your head through once again.

“Let me know if you need anything at all, more tea perhaps? I imagine fixing the country is going to take a little longer than that cup will last.” You say, before shutting the door behind you.

You exhale a shaky breath and rest your head in your spare hand, your back pressed up against the door.

“You’re going to be a real problem for me, aren’t you? You fluffy little thing.” You say, looking down at Larry who was once again pressed up against your leg.

Larry meows happily before running away down the staircase of Number 10 as you roll your eyes.

-

You had quickly settled in to your role as catering manager at 10 Downing Street. Just two weeks into the job, you found that you were able to predict when George would be wanting a cup of tea or a snack brought up to his office, often you would be on your way up the staircase before he had even called you to make his request.

After being told not to bother knocking anymore, you push your way into George’s office to find him stood before the fireplace, one hand resting against the mantelpiece while the other contained a half-empty glass of scotch.

“Are you okay, George?” You ask, setting down the plate of jammy dodgers on his desk before taking a tentative step toward him.

“I know I wanted this job, but fuck, it’s hard.” George says, turning to face you.

You offer him a sympathetic smile as he downs the rest of his scotch.

“I brought you some jammy dodgers, but I don’t think they pair so well with scotch. Maybe a bourbon biscuit instead?” You chuckle, and George smiles, exhaling slightly through his nose.

“What would you do, if you were me?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“I genuinely wouldn’t have a clue. That’s why you’re the one running the country and I’m the one bringing you biscuits.” You say with a smile.

“I don’t have a clue either. You know, I thought that being Prime Minister I could do some good, undo all the shit that ten years of Conservative bollocks sprayed across the country. But I’m just being pulled from pillar to post by my party members who all want different things. How can the people of one party all have such different opinions?” George says, setting his glass down on the mantelpiece and throwing himself down in his armchair.

“They may all want different things, but they chose you to lead them, George. They all feel that you were the best choice for the country, and all of us, the voters, we agreed. Some people like custard creams, some people like jammy dodgers, and there are even weirdos out there who like rich tea biscuits despite how boring and bland they are. But you’re the one at the shop looking at the biscuit aisle and you get to choose what to buy. You may know which biscuits people like and which ones they don’t, and that’ll help you to make your choice, but ultimately it’s about choosing the right biscuit that will satisfy the most people, even if it isn’t their favourite.” You say, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Somehow you biscuit-themed analogy makes more sense politically than anything I’ve been told by my cabinet in days. Thank you.” He says, placing his hand on top of yours.

You feel your cheeks heating up at the sudden contact, and instinctively want to pull away, but decide against it. The feeling of his soft hand on your sends shivers through your body.

“I also really want a biscuit now after that, you brought jammy dodgers, right?” George says, jumping up from his seat, your hand sliding off his shoulder and immediately missing the contact with him.

He runs over to the desk and grabs the plate, sliding one into his mouth before offering them to you. You oblige, taking one and crunching away half of the biscuit.

“I just have to find my political jammy dodger, a policy that will satisfy the most people in the best way, but will also satisfy me and my policies too. Thank you, (y/n), you’re wonderful, as always.” George says through as mouthful of biscuit, and you smile.

“No, you’re wonderful. I heard that the last guy forced everyone to eat rich teas all the time because they were his favourite, despite knowing that only he and his rich friends were the only ones that liked them.” You say, and George laughs.

“You know, I think I heard the same rumour.” He chuckles, and you turn to walk towards the door.

“Enjoy your biscuits George, I’ll see you later with your evening cup of tea.” You say, and George furrows his brows.

“Evening? What about dinner?” He asks, and you roll your eyes.

“You have a meeting with the Japanese ambassador at five so you won’t be around.” You say, and George nods.

“You’re honestly a better PA than my actual PA, he never tells me half of these things. I’ll be looking forward to my evening tea, then.” He says, giving you a warm smile as you disappear behind the door, closing it with a click behind you.

-

Larry runs beside you as you take brisk steps towards the door of George’s office, meowing loudly for your attention.

“Not now, Larry, I’m busy! I’m sure Lewis will be more than happy to rub your tummy if you ask him nicely!” You say, and the cat looks up at you, becoming quiet for a moment before resuming his meows.

“Someone wants attention.” You hear a voice say behind you and you turn to see a man you do not recognise stood behind you.

“Larry spends more time watching me make tea and sandwiches than he does catching mice these days.” You say, giving in to the cat and scratching him behind his ears.

“He’s a smart boy. I too would rather spend my time following a beautiful woman like you around, rather than catching those filthy creatures.” He says, taking a step towards you.

You flinch slightly as his hand reaches out to tuck away a stray strand of hair behind your ear. It’s at this point you recognise him, the leader of the opposition, Christian Horner. The man you probably would have been making tea and biscuits for had the votes swung in the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry, sir, I really should get going, I have a lot to organise for the meal with the French President tomorrow.” You say, pulling away from his touch which lingered slightly too long at the side of your face.

“Oh, so soon? Well, maybe come election time you’ll be working for me instead, and we can have more fun together then, hm?” He says, and you take a deep breath to hide the disgusted look on your face. You knew for a fact that the bastard already had a wife and kids, and yet he was so shamelessly trying to flirt with you out in the open like this.

Even if he wasn’t married, you would never be interested. You’d realised only a week into the job you’d only ever have eyes for one man, the man whose schedule you knew off by heart, who always complimented you on your tea-making skills, and valued you as a human being, and didn’t just see you as some pretty young thing in a skirt. You knew you were in love with George, and you didn’t want anyone else, especially not some smarmy git in an ill-fitting suit like Christian Horner.

You hear someone clear their throat a few metres away, and your head snaps to face them, your face dropping instantly when your eyes meet his.

“Okay, right, you, um, left this on my desk.” George says, holding out a folder marked confidential towards Christian.

You look up at George, your eyes now glassy as you see his are devoid of emotion. Oh god, you hope he hadn’t gotten the wrong impression after Christian’s advances.

“Thanks George, I’ll see you in the House of Commons tomorrow for the debate. Maybe this time you won’t embarrass yourself, hm?” Christian says, before walking away down the staircase.

“George, that wasn’t what it looked like, I promise, he just… I didn’t…” You begin, but you’re not entirely sure of what to say.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says nonchalantly, before walking past you and into his office, slamming the door behind him.

You jump at the loud noise, and Larry cowers behind your legs.

“Oh god, I’ve cocked this all up big time, haven’t I?” You say, and Larry meows at you, almost as if to say ‘yes, yes you have.”

-

The time comes for you to bring George his afternoon tea. Following the earlier events with Christian, you decide to knock rather than just walking into George’s office.

“Enter.” He says, and you tentatively turn the doorknob, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you with a soft click.

“I brought you your afternoon tea.” You say, taking a few steps towards George who was scanning some important documents, a pen in his hand following along with every word as he reads.

“Just leave it on my desk, thanks.” He says, not even looking up at you as he speaks.

You place the cup and saucer down gently next to the many documents that littered the desk with a clatter.

“George, please, let me explain.” You say, fidgeting with your hands before you, feeling almost as nervous as you had done on your first day.

“You don’t have to explain anything. It’s fine.” George says rather firmly.

“I do, I do. It’s all Larry’s fault, he was meowing for attention and then he appeared and before I could stop him his hand was on my face and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted him to stop but I’m just the girl who brings the biscuits and he’s the leader of the bloody opposition. But I knew I wanted him to stop because there’s only one man I’d let touch me like that and it certainly isn’t him.” You say, speaking faster than your brain could think.

George looks up from his papers, making eye contact with you over his glasses.

“He didn’t ask you before touching you?” George asks, and you shake your head.

“No, it happened too fast and I hadn’t even had time to ask him to stop once I realised what was happening.” You say, and George stands from his desk, taking a few steps toward you.

“It’s okay. You shouldn’t let him, or anyone else for that matter, get away with that sort of thing. You’re not just the girl who brings the biscuits, you’re a damn human being and you deserve better. And if they threaten you, well, they’ve got me to answer to.” George says, offering you a small smile.

“Thank You George, you’re a real gentleman.” You say, mirroring his smile back at him.

“You said there’s only one man you’d let touch you like that, I’m sorry, I never asked, do you have a partner? Boyfriend? Husband?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No, there’s just this guy that I know, he’s really sweet and kind and funny. I haven’t known him long, but I’ve found myself falling for him rather quickly, even though I know it would never work out.” You say, your cheeks blushing red.

“Why wouldn’t it work out?” George asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

“He has a really important job, but I’m just a caterer. I don’t think he’d ever give me a second glance.” You say, and George’s hand finds your own, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Oh really? Well, if I was him, I’d snap you up before some other guy had the chance to.” George says, and you chuckle.

“Okay then, so what would you do, if you were me? If you fancied a very important man but were too nervous to tell him you fancied him?” You ask, your eyebrow raised.

“I genuinely wouldn’t have a clue. That’s why you fancy an important man, and I fancy a girl who’s metaphors are almost entirely biscuit-related, but we’re both still single.” George says, taking your other hand and intertwining your fingers together.

“I don’t have a clue either.” You chuckle, before George’s lips find your own in a sweet kiss.

Your lips are only together for the briefest of moments, but the contact sends an electric sensation throughout your body, and you instantly want more.

George releases your hands and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, and you throw your now-freed hands around his neck, pressing your lips together once again in a deeper, more passionate kiss.

At that moment, the door swings open and Lewis looks over at the two of you, his mouth agape.

You immediately pull away from George, and the two of you begin to chuckle.

“I’ll, uh, come back later?” Lewis says, before closing the door behind him.

“He won’t say anything, I trust him with my life.” George says, and you nod, pressing the tip of your nose against George’s own.

“He might not, but our fluffy friend here has a real loud mouth on him, and loves to gossip.” You say, gesturing down at Larry the cat who must have entered the room when Lewis had opened the door.

Larry weaves between yours and George’s feet, meowing excitedly at the two of you.

“It’s a good job none of my cabinet knows how to speak cat, then!” George says, and you shake your head while chuckling slightly.

“I love you, George.” You say, pressing your forehead to his.

“I love you too, (y/n)” George says, before claiming your lips once again in a sweet kiss.

#george russell x reader #george russell x you #george russell imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x You

[russellius]

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

George Russell: Celebrating a victory or championship with family. Nothing can beat that emotion.

What is your greatest fear?

George: Crocodiles and snakes. I hate them both!

Which person do you most admire?

George: Probably Michael Schumacher. The way he drove, his speed, talent, race craft as well as how incredible he was off circuit with the press, team and everything else. I think he was amazing and somebody I really look up to.

What is your current state of mind?

George: Excited!

When do you lie?

George: When my mother or girlfriend ask what speed are we going…

What do you most dislike about your appearance?

George: Haha! I have no idea. Probably the fact that I have to be very skinny and light to be a racing driver of my height. Hopefully that will change in the coming year with the regulation change.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

George: I don’t really look at men that way… [Laughs] no idea!

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

George: Personality! Absolutely. If she doesn’t have a good personality, I think you’d soon get bored of the looks.

When and where were you happiest?

George: After qualifying in Abu Dhabi this season. 2018 had been a season of huge ups and downs; entering the last round knowing I had a great advantage in the championship but also knowing anything could happen. Going into qualifying, I knew there could be an 8 point swing between myself and Alex. Something that had never happened to me is that my mind started to wander while driving. On the warm up lap during qualifying, approaching the final corner before gunning it I thought to myself “sh*t, this could be it! This could be one of the most important lap of my career” and then still, while driving over the line to start my lap thinking “blimey, this is quite a lot of pressure”. But the second I hit the brakes into turn 1, all of those thoughts had disappeared and I produced one of my best laps of the year. That feeling afterwards, knowing not only that was an awesome lap, but that we had really one hand on the championship was just incredible. I felt on top of the world.

Which talent would you most like to have?

George: Very random but I would love to be able to do accents. That’s something I often try and often fail, just embarrassing myself…

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

George: Being able to speak more languages.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

George: Winning the F2 Championship, no shadow of a doubt.

Where would you most like to live?

George: There’s something about LA and California that I love. I’ve never been before, but I just have this feeling I would love it.

What is your most treasured possession?

George: Family. Without them, none of this would be possible.

What is your favourite occupation?

George: Well, I’ve always dreamed of being an F1 Driver, so it has to be that.

What virtue do you most value in your friends?

George: Understanding my commitments and being fully supportive of that.

Who is your hero of fiction?

George: No idea…

Which historical figure do you most identify with?

George: Absolutely no idea, history was never my strongest subject.

What is it that you most dislike?

George: Two-faced people. That’s something I hate. Someone who’s your friend to your face but isn’t shy to say some nasty things behind your back.

What is your greatest regret?

George: There’s no stand-out. Obviously there are many things I wish I could have done differently, but there’s nothing which I would class as my greatest.

What is your motto?

George: If in doubt, go flat out!!

#george russell #f1 #*m #q #2018 #i- #god. i love him so much :( #(him wanting to be able to do accents is the purest thing i have ever heard)

[umgeorge]

george russell is interviewed on media day, las vegas, united states - november 15, 2023 (transcription below the cut)

Interviewer: "Hey, George. The team's performance in Austin and Mexico looked like you were making some progress, then just a bit of an odd weekend, I guess, in Brazil. Do you have some answers, though, for what went wrong?" George: "Yeah, we definitely have some answers and we've got a number of things that we can put down to our poor performance in Brazil, but this is the nature of a sprint race weekend. If you get it right you're on a good course and you're in for a successful weekend, but if you get it wrong, you've got no opportunity to make amends and we were kind of trapped within our own mistakes, so that was a gruelling weekend. It shows how tentative everything is, but we're confident we're not going to fall into that same trap, especially this weekend." Interviewer: "Well how are you kind of feeling about this weekend, especially on a new track where you don't know… You kind of need to hit the ground running, don't you, to make sure you don't get lost." George: "Yeah, I think you're gonna have to learn as much as possible, as quickly as possible. The track's gonna be evolving. You've got cars driving on the track right now, dropping oil, dust down. It's gonna be very greasy, and it's gonna evolve a lot as the weekend progresses, so you're gonna have to always be forward-thinking. And now it's raining currently. That's gonna throw a spanner in the works for everybody, so the fact is nobody knows how it's going to pan out."

#george russell #f1 #formula 1 #las vegas gp 2023 #fic ref #fic ref 2023 #las vegas #las vegas 2023 #las vegas 2023 wednesday