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“Tantrums, George? Really?” Max said, his voice laced with amusement. “Tantrums don’t suit a champion. Tattling to lawyers certainly doesn’t suit a man who just built me a nest. It’s boring.”
“It’s not a tantrum; it’s a statement of fact,” George shot back, pushing himself slightly upright, fighting the sinking feeling. “And don’t you dare try to lecture me on integrity when you spent two years trying to deliberately put me into a wall. You won one bet, Max, and you think you can turn it into some primitive mating ritual. It’s pathetic.”
Max simply looked at him, letting the silence absorb George’s tirade. “So many years my Alpha instincts told me to pull you close, and you, my sweet Princess George, always refused. Always the pride, always the scorn. It’s your personality, isn’t it? The haughty contempt.”
George hissed in anger. “Don’t you dare call me princ—”
Max didn't reach out gently. Instead, he shifted his full weight, leaning heavily over George's torso, pressing his chin near George's neck. He wasn't aggressive, but the sheer mass and proximity of the Alpha was a command.
Series
- Part 1 of Anonymous F1- If i decide to write more
- Language:
- English
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- 824
- Chapters:
- 2/16
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- 1
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- 2
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- 39
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Oscar Piastri is accidentally added to a group chat with a group of uni boys. By some stroke of luck, the project they're working on happens to directly involve Oscar's job as a Formula 1 driver, they just can't exactly know that yet.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 71,485
- Chapters:
- 39/39
- Comments:
- 984
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Really cool
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“May I?” George politely asked Max as he signaled that he wanted to stand under Max’s umbrella. Max’s gut reaction was to want to tease him, maybe ask him about Oscar’s umbrella, but that would mean to admit that he noticed, and he calculated that that was a risk that would leave him embarrassed in front of George, and the media was already watching like hawks since the national anthem was about to start.
“Suit yourself, mate,” Max said as a peace offering of sorts, and took a small step to his left to make as much room as possible for George, but not enough to sacrifice getting wet himself with the drops of rain that were rapidly falling.
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"It's probably because of Russtappen," Kimi said with a grin.
George frowned. "What?"
The PR manager looked uncomfortable. "Kimi is referring to a ship," she said awkwardly. "A significant portion of fans online are… enthusiastic about the tension between you and Verstappen. They interpret it romantically."
George felt his brain stall, like an engine cutting out mid-corner. "I'm sorry, what?"
Or,
After stumbling across Russtappen fan videos, George begins to wonder if Max might actually have a thing for him. He could use that. He could make Verstappen pay. But the lines between manipulation, obsession, and desire blur faster than he anticipates.
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It was Camp Half-Blood’s worst-kept secret that Max and George were both each other’s greatest enemy and greatest obsession.
Max has just come back changed from his quest. George just wants to know why his sworn enemy won't let him out of his sight.
Or 5 times Max cared for George through actions and 1 time they actually managed to tell each other.
(Also no knowledge of Percy Jackson needed for this)
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They handed him an Omega with ash still in his hair.
Lando stood barefoot on the marble floor of a city that had swallowed his name, his future, and the scent of the man he was promised to. He said nothing. He didn’t bow. He only stared — jaw tight, eyes brighter than any fire that took his home.
Oscar Piastri was a commander, not a keeper of hearts. The boy was a war spoil, nothing more. He told himself that, again and again, as days passed and silence turned into glances, glances into questions, and questions into something dangerously close to care.
The rules of war are simple: Victors take. The conquered yield.
But Lando has never followed rules.
And Oscar? He's starting to forget them.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 71,766
- Chapters:
- 6/10
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- 364
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- 1,124
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- 312
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정복의 권리
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tbr pls pls be completed
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beautiful
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George Russell, a thirty-two-year-old omega, was preparing a cup of tea, his movements precise and economical. To Max's eyes, this man was not a stranger; such beauty had been unsettling him for months. In reality, Max had become friends with Kimi, a younger boy, seventeen, who lived with his father George. The friendship had arisen naturally at university, where Kimi, brilliant and advanced, was taking some courses. Max occasionally helped him, and that's how he had come to this cozy home.
However, over the weeks, Max had discovered that his visits did not have camaraderie with Kimi as their sole purpose. He yearned, with an intensity that shamed him, for those moments when he could glimpse the beautiful omega who was his friend's father. George was a serene presence, an oasis of calm that contrasted with the boisterous chaos of Max's university life.
Series
- Part 3 of Russtappen
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After his last roommate set their apartment on fire, Lando Norris has been looking for a place to live. He does find one, a place with an exceptionally charming boy living in it.
Oscar Piastri is the nicest human Lando has ever met. He doesn't mind picking up the hoodies Lando throws on the floor and forgets about. He makes extras of the food Lando likes for the next morning. He throws Lando's laundry in with his when he knows the other is busy.
Thing is, Oscar Piastri is not a human at all.
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有人暴言道，人类所有的感情都是对母爱的拙劣模仿。
于是拥有了一切的维斯塔潘先生想要进行一场社会实验——找人扮演他的完美母亲。
他觉得乔治·拉塞尔是个不错的选择。 -
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Charles Leclerc has already lost and rebuilt his career more than once. After personal tragedy and injury, he fights his way back to the top, determined not to let anyone take what he has earned. Then, a rising star appears in his path - someone who could change everything. But for better... or worse?
Carlos Sainz has finally reached the stage others only dream of. Brought into the club by his former coach, he must not only live up to sky-high expectations, but also face the reality that his arrival is far from welcome to everyone - especially not for the club's biggest star, Charles Leclerc.
What begins as tension and competition quickly blurs into something far more dangerous. Because on the pitch, only one of them can shine - but off the pitch, the lines between rivalry, desire, and loyalty refuse to stay clear. When everything they have ever dreamed of is at stake - their careers, loyalty, and the future of the club - what would they choose?
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Джордж Расселл – стилист британского Vogue, известное лицо фэшн-индустрии, он работает с дизайнерами и брендами мирового уровня и появляется на показах во всем мире, но самым сложным в его карьере оказывается момент, когда ему приходится вытаскивать Макса Ферстаппена из поло Ред булла и скинни джинс.
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来自英国的小报记者George Russell得到了一个机会，采访大名鼎鼎的演员Lewis Hamilton。Lewis向他讲述了一个故事，但要求他永远不能公开。似乎已经得到全部真相的George发现：横跨二十年，好莱坞阳光照不到的地方，这段故事仍未完结。
好莱坞AU
独自一人到好莱坞闯荡的Lewis x 星二代Nico*长篇连载中
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卡塔尔站后的一次臆想。
Max知道，他们未竟的恩怨在多哈灼热的夜色中找到了宣泄的出口。Series
- Part 1 of 3363/与他共度漫长日光
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一次卧底行动中，年轻有为的Max警探目睹了一场惨烈的邪教献祭仪式，回到警局后，他所在的部门人员均被调职，Max在派别斗争中无辜地失去了自己原有的位置。从这时起，跟踪他的人发现，他开始频繁地访问Dr.Russell的心理诊所。
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乔治·拉塞尔在PNHB上生成了最贴合个人性癖的“perfect match”。
这很讽刺，作为车手学院里最支持自然派的标杆老师，典型的英国人，总在课堂上用他矜贵的嗓音强调“不要滥用外部手段毁掉你对车的觉察力”，却依赖最顶级的感官交互技术，在成人平台获取慰藉。
这并不一样，只是私人时间的消遣，乔治对自己说。
这和他在学校里对抗的那种将人工具化，通过设备介入代替赛场感知和驾驶训练，从而提升速度的科技完全不同。
两个人的赛博约炮属实很爽，乔治很满意—— 毕竟在这里，对方的脸、身材、甚至尺寸都可以随机生成，PNHB甚至支持探索你本人潜意识里最喜欢的类型。
然而，下一个瞬间，他发现自己并没有开启随机生成的选项。
Well，如果是这样的话，昨晚的对象为什么那么像……-
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维斯塔潘偶尔想知道眼泪在什么时候被允许。
但拉塞尔不在意这个问题，他想哭就哭，无论是在床上，还是在赛场边。这是一个炮友试图转正然后又分分合合的故事。
也是一个关于情感的流动的故事。*当平行世界看就好（。
*除了赛历其他都是我编的。-
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Max Verstappen从来只拥有过冠军，但是这次，那位两年后重返赛场的梅奔车手却给他带来了人生的惊喜。
预警写这：aboe设定！
E Max/A George
有时间操作(操作一下让拉姐20年加入梅奔……不然真的写不下去了，然后开篇是22年冬休)和各种捏造(怀孕之类)
不是带球跑
最后ooc属于我-
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那么萌
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Pairs of Mercedes racecars lined either side of the hall, set on inclined pedestals that pointed their sharp noses at the entrant. History churned in each dead engine as George passed cars that used to belong to the legends of royalty: Michael Schumacher, Nico Rosberg, and—of course—Lewis Hamilton.
“I hope you understand the importance of this moment,” Toto said.
“I do,” George answered, boldly, bravely.
Power surged in him as he took the reins of his destiny into his hands.
----Empires are helmed by two appointed princes, bound together by a royal marriage that has to appear real to the eyes of the public--regardless of true feelings.
Stray from the rules and face the consequences. Or learn to play the game.
Modern-Day!Arranged Marriage!Royalty!AU following the 2021 F1 season.
BOOK I: Chapters 1 - 51
BOOK II: Chapters 52 - 85
BOOK III: Chapters 86 - 110
BOOK IV: Chapters 111 - 155- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 745,850
- Chapters:
- 155/155
- Comments:
- 2,421
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Kimi: so Norris won the championship?
Bono’s voice came through, almost hesitant. As if he wished he could protect him from the answer.
“That’s… just two. Just two points.”Kimi felt the world tilt.
Two points.
Two.Like he could reach out and hold that number between his fingers.
Like something so small could be the weight of a planet sitting on his spine.
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His throat burned. His eyes stung, vision blurring just slightly around the edges. Not tears — not fully — but close enough that he blinked hard, quick, hoping they wouldn’t fall.
Two points.He felt sick. His mistake. If only he wasn’t a mistake, a failure, a liability, then maybe Max could’ve been the winner.
He couldn’t breathe around the guilt strangling him from the inside.The helmet suddenly felt too tight. Too hot.
Maybe if he’d defended better.
Maybe if he hadn’t made that mistake in Qatar.-
Bookmark Notes:
Vertonelli - After Abu Dhabi race 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻
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"Fragile," Lewis had called Max. What a cruel joke. Too proud, too assured. Incapable of yielding. And George had been forced to pay the bill for that pride, settled in bruises and carbon fibre.
George took a deep breath of the bar's stale air and held Verstappen's gaze. He waited until he was close enough, and stood, a fluid movement that sent a stab of pain through his bruised abdomen, a perfect reminder of Senna, of the betrayal, of Max's hand on the wheel. He used that pain as fuel, injecting the necessary chill into his veins to offer a smile.
"Come on," George said, the smile sharp as a splinter. "It's been a shit year. I want to celebrate by doing something truly reckless." His plastic, empty, terrible smile widened.