joon7912
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Yes, George wanted to tell Toto about him and Max.
No, he definietly didn't want him to find out LIKE THAT.Series
- Part 2 of Max&George
Bookmarked by joon7912
25 Dec 2025
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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 joon7912
25 Dec 2025
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“it’s… max,” max said carefully.
the barista tilted his head. “that’s what i wrote.”
“no, it’s not.”
“then you must’ve pronounced it wrong.”
max blinked. he didn’t know if he wanted to argue or leave. “it’s literally three letters.”
“well, it’s four now,” the barista said, grinning like it was a personal victory, and max felt that familiar urge to wipe that infuriatingly perfect smile off his face.
OR: four times george "misspells" max's name in his coffee order (and that one time he finally gets it right), and the latter cannot for the life of him decide whether to strangle him or fall in love altogether.
Bookmarked by joon7912
04 Dec 2025
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Lewis turns away from him, the man's gaze too piercing and too knowing, and regards the room he’s in, his eye pausing on a handful of proudly displayed trophies, helmets, and framed photographs.
The man cups his chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns his head back around. His touch doesn’t feel foreign, even though it should. Even though Lewis doesn’t like strangers touching him, and wouldn’t let just anyone get so close and invade his personal space like this. And yet, his first reaction isn’t to recoil; if anything, his instincts virtually scream at him to lean into the hold, into the palm now sliding up to rest against his cheek.
This isn’t the touch of a stranger, clearly, and his subconsciousness knows it.
“No, don’t look at those.”
“Why not?”
“Spoilers,” the guy —he really should learn his name soon— giggles.
Bookmarked by joon7912
02 Dec 2025
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卖腐？
合同没写，那就不卖Bookmarked by joon7912
29 Nov 2025