Id4
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Wanting George is like being boiled alive. When he leaves right after sex, Max is miserable. When he stays and complains the entire night about Max’s pillows, his shower pressure, his massage skills, Max is miserable.
Now he’s not even letting Max fuck him and he’s still miserable.
Bookmarked by Id4
04 Aug 2026
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Max stopped speaking halfway through an answer to Lewis because he realised he had clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. He knew exactly what that helplessness felt like. A mechanical failure robbed a driver differently than a crash or a mistake. There was nowhere to put the anger, no correction to make, no braking point to revisit. George, like all the rest of them, would only be left with the knowledge that his hands had done everything right and it still hadn’t mattered.
Max fixed a smile on his face anyway before he climbed up the third step. Champagne sprayed across his race suit while the hollow in his chest burned like a fireplace sucking all the oxygen out of a room.
George should’ve won today. Max knew it. The entire paddock knew it. And Max knew the twisting in his gut was nothing compared to the void George must have felt in his. He hadn’t seen George once since the chequered flag.
OR: Max comforts George after DNF in Canada 2026.
Bookmarked by Id4
01 Aug 2026
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George was used to finding a silver lining in shit situations, but retiring from his home race after putting it on pole didn’t leave him with much to work with.
George scrolled through the recommended feeds, eyes half-lidded and sticky with exhaustion. Then one headline caught him: FORMULA ONE SILVERSTONE REACTION.
Not exactly original, but the description below made him snort: “RIP GEORGE RUSSELL.”
RIP, indeed.
OR Max is a sim racing streamer and George is a driver and a fan.
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Max’s mind roared, and the thought was so loud and intrusive that George physically stiffened.
It’s freezing out here. Everyone looks like a corpse. Lando looks grey, I feel blue, but his lips are bright fucking red. They look so soft. Look at how they move when he talks. Why am I looking at his mouth? Fuck, I want to take my thumb and press it right against his bottom lip just to see if the colour changes. I want to bite it. Why do I want to bite him? What is wrong with me?
Or, a mind-reading fic set in the canon universe. George inherited his mother's quirk of mind-reading, and it was not helping that the only thought he could not block was Max's.
Bookmarked by Id4
26 Jul 2026
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The chapel in the Las Vegas Grand Prix Paddock club has been there since the circuit was added to the calendar back in 2023. No one had used it, it was just more shit to the show the race itself was. One of the many reasons no one took this particular track seriously, or any of the ones hosted in the United Estates for that matter.
So when that journalist asked if any of them would get married that weekend, Max couldn't help but look at George and just... ask him to marry him right then and there, in the middle of the conference room. Even when they're supposedly sworn enemies.
Or,
When Max jokes about getting married to George at Vegas, and George, surprisingly, agrees.
Bookmarked by Id4
25 Jul 2026