George Russell Masterlist

Behind the Armor

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pairing: clarisse la Rue x fem!reader (no specific cabin)

summary: clarisse la rue is known for her strength and toughness, but when it’s just the two of you, she lets down her guard—and you wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.

a/n: its quite short but i needed to write about my wife clarisse 🤭

The training arena was quiet, the faint glow of the evening sun casting long shadows over the cracked floor. Clarisse stood in the center, her spear leaning against the wall, her hands on her hips as she watched you approach.

—You’re late. —she said, though her usual sharp tone was softened by a faint smirk.

—I was helping Chiron. —you replied, stopping a few feet away from her. —Besides, it’s not like you needed me here to win.

Clarisse snorted, rolling her eyes. —Yeah, well, maybe I just like having you around to witness my victories.

You smiled, stepping closer. —Or maybe you just like having me around.

Her smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, something vulnerable that she rarely let anyone see. —Don’t push your luck. —she muttered, but there was no heat in her words.

You took another step, closing the distance between you until you were standing just inches apart. Her eyes searched yours, and you could feel the tension in the air—an unspoken truth that neither of you had been brave enough to say out loud.

—I like seeing you like this. —you said softly.

Clarisse raised an eyebrow. —Like what? Sweaty and tired?

You shook your head, your smile gentle. —No. Relaxed. Just… you.

For a moment, she said nothing, her usual bravado melting away as she reached out to take your hand. Her calloused fingers were rough against yours, but her touch was careful, almost hesitant.

—You’re not what I expected. —she admitted, her voice quiet. —I didn’t think I’d ever… —She trailed off, shaking her head as if frustrated by her own vulnerability.

—Feel this way? —you offered, squeezing her hand.

Clarisse looked away, her cheeks faintly red. —Yeah. Something like that.

You stepped even closer, tilting her chin up so she’d look at you. —You don’t have to hide with me, Clarisse. I love every part of you—the tough, the brave, and the soft parts you think no one sees.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought she might push you away. But then her hands were on your waist, pulling you closer as her lips met yours in a kiss that was as fierce and passionate as she was.

When she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she let out a shaky laugh. —You’re impossible, you know that?”

You grinned, your heart racing. —Yeah, but you love me for it.

Clarisse rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed her. —Don’t let it go to your head.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the arena in golden light, you held her close, knowing that beneath all the armor and bravado, Clarisse La Rue was yours—and you were hers.

Max Verstappen Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

⌗ Kings Obsession (mafia AU)

HERE

- in which feared by all, Max Verstappen is ruthless, except when it comes to you, his only weakness and greatest obsession.

⌗ Home

HERE

- in which max finally comes home to his wife and daughter.

Tea and Laughter

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pairing: george russell x wife!reader

summary: George’s obsession with tea leads to a hilariously sweet moment when he ropes you into a mission to find the perfect cup during a rare day off. Amidst laughter and chaos, you’re reminded why you fell in love with him in the first place.

It was supposed to be a quiet day off—just you, George, and the comfort of home. But somehow, you found yourself in the middle of London, hopping from café to café on what George had dramatically dubbed “The Quest for the Perfect Cup of Tea.”

—This isn’t just tea. —George insisted, holding up a small, delicate teacup like it was a trophy. —This is art. And somewhere out there is the perfect blend, waiting for us to discover it.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. —George, it’s tea. You boil water, add a bag, and drink it. How complicated can it be?

He gasped, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. —That’s blasphemy! Tea is an institution, a cornerstone of British culture. You can’t just… boil water and call it a day.

—And yet. —you teased, crossing your arms, —you’re perfectly fine drinking lukewarm coffee at the Mercedes garage every weekend.

George’s ears turned pink, and you knew you’d struck a nerve. —That’s… different. —he muttered, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the next café.

By the fourth stop, you were sitting across from him at a small, cozy tearoom. George had a serious expression, carefully examining the menu as if he were making a life-altering decision.

—Are you going to grade this one too? —you asked, smirking.

—Of course. —he replied without looking up. —I have a system.

—A system?

—Yes. —George said, gesturing vaguely. —Flavor, aroma, temperature… and, of course, presentation. The teacup is just as important as the tea itself.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. —You’re ridiculous, you know that?

George leaned back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. —And yet, you married me.

—Big mistake. —you joked, though your grin softened the blow.

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. —Admit it—you love my quirks.

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was written all over your face. George had this uncanny ability to turn even the most mundane days into adventures, and you adored him for it.

Later, back at home, you sat curled up on the couch with George, sharing the tea you’d finally settled on. He held the cup up with a triumphant grin.

—See? Worth the effort.

You shook your head, laughing as you leaned into him. —You’re impossible, George Russell.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice warm and playful. —And you wouldn’t have me any other way.

And as the evening wore on, filled with laughter and tea, you realized that George’s quirks weren’t just endearing—they were part of what made your life with him so wonderfully unpredictable.

Carlos Sainz Masterlist

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𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ Between Karts and Confessions

- in which carlos and the reader race in karts, leading to a surprising confession and a deeper connection.

⌗ Left Behind

- in which carlos faces guilt and doubt after you confront him about being excluded.

…

Omgggg thank u so much for my first 100 followers!!! Love y’all ❤️‼️

KISSING MICHAEL PART II

(mature michael headcanons) | 434 words

WARNINGS: mature themes , wine mention , describing kissing , reader is genderless <3

if you’re wondering, “how can a part ii come before a part i???” well…i have a kissing michael headcanon i was already working on but this one fought to come out first LOL……

i feel like a mature michael would really appreciate a long make out session

just to get a bit of a break

just to have his eyes closed for a moment, get his mind off of the world and onto you

your lips

your tongue

connecting and…

i imagine it can come about in casual ways, the domestic sort of thing that happens when you have the comfort of living together

out on a walk or making lunch in the kitchen, his hands taking space on the island behind you

your lips in the bright california light, in perfect rhythm—together

he likes kissing like that

just slow, no expectation for anything more than that

i imagine it comes on the nights when you join him with an uncorked bottle of wine after bedtime stories

just a glass, or two…

he’ll have you in his lap, grateful, so loving

how he loves you…

you kiss him long and slow then in between rubs of your faces together, warm from the sweet red,

he puts his forehead to yours and says he’s proud of you

no, really, really

really, baby

and he kisses you a bit raggedly in the lamplight, lips full,

his tongue

fuck

tasting like…

and there’s never no expectation for some touching

in these moments you might undo a couple buttons on his shirt, air his skin out

explore his bare chest a little, tease his nipple, palm along his neck

and i think his hands would squeeze your legs, know them deftly

his hand going down, fingers slipping between your thighs, gripping just to hear you moan for him

break the kiss, smile, share a few breaths or taunting gazes, dive into each other again………..

he likes kissing like that, too.

another time i imagine are those nice mornings when there’s all the time to lounge

sun pouring in, warming your bed

you slept bare, so you appreciate a little extra warmth

you kiss each other forever it seems

that’s when you’re really gluttonous for each other

i’m not sure if you grow together you just care less but

neither of you have a chance to freshen up before these sessions

you don’t really speak much either

just

kiss…

like magnets vibrate to come together

it’s when he gets the most nasty too

when he gets your mouth open wide

sucks your tongue the way he wants

you roll yours against the bridge of his mouth

you kiss teeth and love it, somehow

and you can’t tell whose spit is whose

somehow

just

kissing him

tangled in each other on a sunday

he loves kissing like that.

Sergio ‘Checo’ Pérez Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ The New Year’s Fresh Start

HERE

- in which checo feels weighed down by guilt and uncertainty and his wife reminds him of his worth beyond the track.

omg i loved your Left Behind ficcc😍. Could you maybe do a part two where like she confronts her brothers and maybe they say smthn mean. And she can’t believe their mom didn’t say anything either. I love the angst vibe.

🍋 anon

Left Behind 2

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part 1

pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!reader

summary: the reader confronts Carlos, Charles, and Arthur after discovering that Carlos went to Mexico with his brothers without informing her. The confrontation leads to a painful argument, where she faces indifference from her brothers and feels deeply betrayed by Carlos.

warnings: angst, emotional neglect, family conflict.

—It’s not as easy as you think.

The tension in the dining room was thick, and every word from Arthur seemed to cut deeper than the last. You couldn’t believe you were sitting here, staring at them, the people who were supposed to care for you the most, yet all you felt was betrayal.

—Do you think I don’t understand? —Your voice trembled with raw emotion. —I’ve been nothing but supportive, Charles. But you… you went to Mexico with Arthur without even telling me! ¡And with Carlos too! —You could feel the anger rising, thick and uncontrollable.

Arthur crossed his arms, a look of irritation on his face. —You’re being dramatic. —he muttered. —It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Charles, who had been silent up until that point, finally spoke, but his words hit you like a slap. —We were busy. It wasn’t intentional.

—It wasn’t intentional?! —you echoed, incredulous. —How do you not tell your sister that you’re leaving the country? How is that not intentional?

The hurt was suffocating. You looked at them, trying to hold back tears, but they were already welling up in your eyes. Your brothers just didn’t get it. They never did.

You turned to your mother, who had been quiet the entire time, her eyes fixed on her plate, as if she were trying to avoid the storm brewing around her. —And you? You’re just going to sit there? You’re not even going to say anything? —Your voice cracked as you let out the question, your gaze pleading.

—I don’t want to get involved. —your mother replied, her tone flat, emotionless. —This is between you three.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. No one was on your side. No one even cared enough to understand.

You could feel the tears threatening to spill, but you refused to let them show. —Fine. —you said, the words dripping with a coldness you didn’t feel. —I get it. You don’t care.

You stood up, your chair scraping harshly against the floor, the sound jarring in the quiet room. You didn’t wait for anyone to speak. You couldn’t. Not when everything you’d ever wanted. Recognition, care, love. Was so effortlessly ignored.

Without another word, you walked out of the room, the cold air hitting your face as you stepped into the garden, your chest tight with emotion.

The sound of footsteps behind you broke the silence, and you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Carlos. You knew he had been watching, and you knew this moment had been coming. But you weren’t ready for what came next.

—¿Amor? —Carlos’s voice was gentle, but you could hear the concern beneath it. —I saw you leave. Are you okay?

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak, but the words bubbled out anyway. —I’m not okay, Carlos. —you whispered, your voice small, fragile. —I can’t believe you went to Mexico with them and didn’t even tell me. I thought… —The hurt in your voice made it impossible to continue.

Carlos stepped closer, his hand hesitating in the air before resting on your shoulder. —I never meant to hurt you. —he said softly, his voice low, almost apologetic. —It was just… a last-minute thing. You know how it is with Charles and Arthur.

—That’s not the point! —You pulled away from him, anger flaring again. —The point is, you left without saying anything. You chose them over me. Again.

Carlos looked at you, his expression full of guilt, but there was something else behind his eyes. Something that made you feel even more alone. —I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. You have to know that.

But you didn’t feel reassured. Not anymore. The hurt was too deep, the sense of betrayal too overwhelming. —No, Carlos. I through you cared about me. I through i mattered to you. — you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. —But you don’t. You never did.

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he just stood there, as if unsure of what to do. But you didn’t give him the chance to fix things. You had already made up your mind.

—You should go. —you said, your voice distant. —I need some space.

Carlos hesitated, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. —I’m sorry. —he murmured before turning away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night.

You stayed in the garden, the cold air numbing your skin, but it did nothing to numb the ache inside you. You had hoped, at least for a moment, that Carlos would choose you. But in the end, like everyone else, he had walked away.

You can’t leave us hanging there with ‘Too Wide a Divide’, they could cross path in future, or there’s some surprises which Toto will find out, something but ending in that way too ... (crying in the corner)

Too Wide a Divide

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part 1 | part 2 (end 1) | part 2 (end 2)

pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: after Toto Wolff walks away from the relationship to preserve the reader’s bond with her family, both are left heartbroken. Months pass, but neither can truly move on. The reader struggles with her family’s lingering disapproval and the void left by Toto. When fate intervenes, their paths cross again, and unresolved feelings come rushing back. This time, the reader must decide: will she fight for their love, or let him slip away once more?

warnings: angst with happy ending, mentions of family disapproval and heartbreak.

The night Toto walked away, the world seemed to collapse around you. He held your hands so gently, his voice calm but heavy with sadness.

—This isn’t what I want.— he said, his thumb tracing circles over your knuckles. —But I can’t let you lose your family because of me. You deserve peace, not this…

You couldn’t speak. Every part of you wanted to scream, to tell him that he was your peace, that losing him would hurt more than anything else. But his resolve was unshakable, and you knew, deep down, that he was leaving out of love.

The days after his departure blurred together. You went through the motions of daily life, but everything felt hollow. Your family tried to comfort you in their own awkward way, but the weight of their disapproval never really lifted. It sat between you, unspoken but ever-present.

And Toto… he was gone. No texts, no calls, not even a fleeting email. You checked Formula 1 updates occasionally, just to see his face. There he was, always poised and professional, but you wondered if his smile ever felt as forced as yours.

Months later, you found yourself at an art exhibit, a rare outing, thanks to a persistent friend who refused to let you wallow any longer. You wandered through the gallery, half-listening to the curator speak about the pieces on display. The paintings were vibrant, alive, but all you could feel was the ache in your chest that had never quite gone away.

You were about to step into the next room when you felt it, a presence, familiar and magnetic. Turning slowly, your eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on him.

Toto.

He was standing across the room, taller and broader than you remembered, his dark suit immaculate. His gaze met yours, and everything else seemed to fade away. The noise of the gallery, the people bustling around, it all disappeared.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, as if drawn together by some invisible force, he started walking toward you.

When he stopped in front of you, the air between you felt charged, heavy with everything left unsaid.

—You’re here. —he said softly, his voice like a balm and a dagger all at once.

—I am. —you replied, your throat tight.

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. —I didn’t expect to see you.

—I wasn’t expecting this either. —you admitted.

The silence stretched, the weight of your shared history pressing down on both of you. Finally, you asked the question that had haunted you for months.

—Why did you leave without a fight?

His jaw tensed, and he looked away briefly, guilt flickering across his face. —Because I didn’t want to be the reason you lost your family.

Your chest tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. —But you were the reason I was happy.

His expression cracked, the mask of composure slipping just enough for you to see the pain he’d been carrying. —And you think I wasn’t?

The vulnerability in his voice hit you like a tidal wave. You wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you, but you didn’t. Not yet.

The two of you slipped away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner where you could talk. And talk you did for hours. About everything. Your family, his fears, the love that still burned between you, even after all this time.

—I never stopped loving you. —he confessed, his voice low and raw.

—I never stopped either. —you admitted.

But love wasn’t the only thing at stake. The past couldn’t be erased, and the tension with your family still loomed large. When he asked if you were willing to try again, you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to, but because you weren’t sure if you could bridge the gap between him and your family.

The next day, you made a decision. You invited him to your parents’ house, determined to face the issue head-on. It wasn’t an easy conversation, there were tears, raised voices, and moments where it felt like everything might fall apart. But Toto stayed, steady and unyielding, his love for you clear in every word he spoke.

By the end of the night, there was no miraculous reconciliation, but there was something else: progress. A tentative understanding, a crack in the wall that had kept you apart.

Months later, as you stood by Toto’s side at a Formula 1 event, you spotted your family in the VIP section, watching with tentative smiles. The road hadn’t been easy, and there were still challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, you felt hope.

Strong Enough for You

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pairing: percy jackson x gf!reader

summary: being in a relationship with Percy Jackson means adventure, danger, and plenty of moments to admire his heroism. But what you love most? His quiet moments of vulnerability—and, of course, those arms that could rival the gods themselves.

a/n: okay guys, just look at him. I just wanted to write something related to this wonderful pic.

It wasn’t a secret, not really. Everyone at Camp Half-Blood had noticed Percy’s physical transformation over the years—his strength wasn’t just in his bravery or his loyalty; it was evident in the way he moved, the way he carried himself. And you? Well, you had front-row seats to it all.

Sitting on the steps of the Big House one sunny afternoon, you watched Percy from a distance as he helped the younger campers set up for capture the flag. His orange camp shirt clung to his shoulders, and his biceps flexed as he effortlessly lifted a heavy crate of shields.

—Are you even listening to me? —Annabeth’s voice broke through your daydream.

You blinked, turning to your best friend, who was smirking knowingly. —What?

Annabeth crossed her arms. —I was saying that Percy’s been showing off a little more lately. And judging by the way you’re staring, I think I know why.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. —I wasn’t staring.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. —Sure, you weren’t. Look, you’ve been together for a year now. He’s obviously just as smitten with you as you are with him. Maybe it’s time to tell him how much you appreciate his hard work.

Later that evening, you found Percy by the campfire, absentmindedly poking at the flames with a stick. He looked up as you approached, his face lighting up in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

—Hey. —he said, scooting over to make room for you. —How was your day?

You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. —Better now.

Percy chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. —You’re cute when you’re sappy, you know that?

You tilted your head to look at him, your eyes trailing over his face and down to the strong line of his jaw. From there, your gaze wandered—his broad shoulders, the way his arms rested casually on his knees, the faint scars that told stories of battles won.

—Okay, what’s that look for? —Percy asked, amused.

You bit your lip, deciding to go for it. —I was just thinking… you’ve gotten really strong lately.

Percy blinked, caught off guard. —Uh, thanks? I mean, I’ve been training a lot, but..

—I like it. —you interrupted, your voice soft but teasing. —I mean, I really like it.

Percy’s face turned red, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. -Oh. Well, that’s… good to know.

You grinned, leaning closer to press a kiss to his cheek. —Don’t get too cocky, Pers. But for the record, you’re ridiculously attractive.

A few days later, Percy seemed determined to test just how much you liked his newfound strength. During sparring practice, he pulled off a series of overly dramatic moves that had the other campers rolling their eyes—and had you trying very hard not to laugh.

Afterward, as you were both walking back to your cabins, he turned to you with a mischievous grin. —So… was that impressive enough for you?

You playfully shoved his shoulder. —You’re such a show-off.

—But you like it. —he countered, grabbing your hand to pull you closer. His voice dropped to a low murmur. —Admit it.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. —Fine. Maybe I do. Just a little.

Percy leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was sweet and unhurried. When he pulled back, his eyes were full of affection—and a hint of smugness.

—Good. —he said softly. —Because I’d do anything to keep you looking at me like that.

That night, as you lay together on the dock by the lake, Percy’s arm draped around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but trace your fingers over the muscles of his forearm.

—Do you ever get tired? —you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

—Tired of what?

—Carrying the weight of the world. —you said, your tone teasing but your words sincere.

Percy’s smile was soft as he turned to look at you. —Not when you’re here. —he said simply.

And in that moment, as the stars reflected in the water and his hand found yours, you realized that no amount of strength could compare to the way he made you feel: safe, loved, and completely at home.