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fuckinh LOVE making fun of alpha males. like how does anyone take these fuckers seriously. they're like "we're so powerful and rich from scamming people that we aren't afraid of ANYTHING because we're MEN" and then it turns out they're scared of like. the color pink. youtube comedians. the dark. disney movies. gay people who aren't even bothering them. japan. vegetables. actual water. women speaking. women

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✨👋🦁 | x

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SWEET (FOR ME)

Summary: Daniel sweats, and Max likes it a little too much. Rating: E Relationship: Daniel/Max Other Tags: Sweat Kink, Blowjobs

Big thanks to @onboardsorasora for the post that reminded me that this existed in my WIPs folder

Read Part 1 Here >> On AO3

or

↓ Read here under the cut ↓

Daniel's in the middle of getting out of his race suit to shower when the door to his driver room opens.

He's angry – angry at the car, angry at his engineers, angry at Zak for telling him, "Better luck next time," as he'd pushed past him on his way to the paddock.

Daniel turns, ready to cuss out whoever's intruded on him, obviously not expecting Max to be there. The words die on his lips before he can even get them out – how is Max here, in the middle of the McLaren motorhome, still in his race suit? How had he made it past everyone without being caught? Daniel's about to ask him when Max sinks to his knees in front of him, pushing his race suit down around his thighs, dragging his fireproofs and underwear with them.

Max pushes his face into Daniel's crotch, and Daniel's mouth drops open. He knows he's gross right now, he's dripping sweat all over the room, and Max is fucking nuzzling his sweat-damp pubes like it's the best thing on the planet. "Max," he whispers, "Max, let me shower, you've got an interview still, we can go back to the hotel after and-"

"No," Max says. "No," he repeats, softer this time, and he licks a messy stripe down Daniel's cock. Daniel drops a hand to Max's head, grabbing the brim of his hat and taking it off, dropping it to the floor. Max noses against him, breathing deep like he wants to commit the smell of Daniel's sweat to his memory, and Daniel pushes his fingers through Max's hair, making it stick up a little.

"Max," he says, "You have an interview to get to."

"They can wait," Max says, mouthing at Daniel's cock a second later, and god, Daniel wishes that wasn't doing it for him. Daniel thinks about Max, showing up to the interview, his lips red and swollen from his cock, if they'll ask where Max was, why he took so long. Max wraps his lips a second later, around the head of Daniel's cock, and Daniel, closes his eyes.

"Fuck, Max," he breathes out as Max blows him.

He imagines Max being asked, imagines what would happen if Max smiles slyly, like a cat that got the cream, and imagines Max saying in a rough, fucked-out voice, "Well, I was just on my knees in the McLaren motorhome."

He knows it won't happen, but he does know how fast it would spread.

It would be milliseconds before the stories come out about it, about Max Verstappen, World Champion, giving head to someone who'd almost finished dead last.

But then Max is pulling off his cock, pushing his nose against Daniel's balls, and he breathes, "Come on my face." Daniel stares down at him. "Do it," Max tacks on a second later, and Daniel grabs his cock, immediately jerking off. He thinks about Max, doing his post-race interview with jizz all over his face, and he shouldn't find the idea as hot as he does, but it makes his cock hard, and that's enough for him. Max buries his face between Daniel's thighs, and then- oh.

Daniel's breath hitches. He shouldn't be turned on by this, by Max rubbing his face against his pubes, smelling him and lapping up his fucking sweat like there's nothing better.

Daniel's jizz ends up on Max's hair, his forehead, and a blob lands on his cheek when Max goes to pull back a little.

"Shit," Daniel whispers, grabbing a McLaren-branded towel and hurriedly wiping the jizz off Max's face. He's about to start cleaning it from Max's hair when Max backs away, grabbing his hat from where Daniel had dropped it.

"I'm going to be late," Max says, his voice rasping a little on his words. Daniel watches, dumbstruck, as Max stands and puts his hat on.

"Did you," Daniel starts, and Max smirks at him, unzipping his race suit. He grabs Daniel's hand, shoving it into his underwear, and Daniel suddenly feels sticky, hot jizz under his fingers. "Jesus," he breathes out. He pulls his hand out of Max's underwear, his fingers covered in Max's jizz, and Max zips his race suit back up so he can make his way to his interview.

"See you at the hotel," he says over his shoulder as he leaves, and Daniel has to sit down.

Eventually, he pulls up the live stream from the interview on his phone. If Max's voice sounds hoarse to anyone, if his lips look too red, too full, if they can smell Daniel all over him, no one says anything, and Daniel turns off the live stream, satisfied that they weren't caught.

He needs to shower.

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Arvid FP1 session at Silverstone 😌😌😌

via: RN365 | Helmut Marko confirms FP1 outing for 17-year-old star

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Max’s new special helmet looks so cool I have to draw it ✷

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ᴏxʏᴛᴏᴄɪɴ ﹙ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴛʜᴇʀ﹚ Chapter 1 / ? — Read on ao3

You did not send a picture of your dick. Are you sure you're okay? He tries to stifle the tinge of embarrassment, and sets his phone down, busying himself with other things in the meantime. When he picks it up again, he feels his whole face turn red. Maybe not. It just felt a bit too crude for such a pretty thing like you.

My @thattropeyouhate fest fic! Go check it and the other fest fics out <3

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marc whimper audio

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monsterenergy been a long time coming 🤌@.lando

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"And I miss you, been far away for far too long"

Daniel almost cried singing far away out of the blue. How can we not have a far away edit ?

tblr only allows 500mb max per file in big 2025... apologies for the quality

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hii esi!!

birch tree 🌳 for June prompts if you want to!!!

Hello tysh!!! Ngl I don't know what this is at all. Just vibes I guess.

Prompt from here.

There's a weird crack in the bark of one of the birch trees this morning, and Max does not like the look of it. He doesn't like it all.

The trunk looks almost silver in the faint dawn light, mist raising from the dewy grass in a lazy haze, swirling in the air behind Max's steps.

"I don't like this," he announces to the silence of the morning, fingers tracing the crack over and over, tingling slightly with the memory of whatever caused it.

He steps back, crouching down to study the roots of the tree, to touch the place where it splits into his twin, to look for one other unwanted crack between all the very natural very good cracks in the bark.

He finds none.

"You're being a weirdo," comes a voice behind him. Max doesn't jump, because he felt the grass shift since Daniel stepped out of the house, bending the delicate blades and creating new swirls in the humid fog, but he does pull his fingers away.

"There is a crack," he replies, craning his neck to look up at Daniel, or at least at his silhouette, traced by the raising sun against the lilliac sky.

"Babe, I don't know how to tell you," Daniel says, and Max is already huffing, knowing he won't find the rest of the sentence funny, "but these trees have more cracks than a hundred monkey asses."

It's not funny, it really isn't, but Max is helpless, unable to stop himself from barking out a laugh anyway, too loud and too sudden in the stillness of the early morning, startling two birds into flying away.

He doesn't need to see Daniel's smile to know it's smug and self-satisfied, and he knows that the only way to right the situation is to reach forward and pinch his tight, eliciting a yelp.

"You are so dumb, Daniel, of course I know the trees have cracks. Even if," he adds, considering, "I don't know what monkeys have to do with it."

"Then why are you being all weird about it?" Daniel asks, and this time Max can tell he's being serious about it, moving his coffee mug from one hand to another to reach out, fingers hovering a few inches away from the strange crack.

Max would like to point out that he didn't tell him which one was the weird one, and Daniel could tell right away, which means that it is significant, thank you very much, but he doesn't want to waste the time fake arguing with Daniel. Even if it's one of their favorite activities, he has more important things to do today, like looking at all the trees in their birch circle.

"It feels weird, don't touch it, and the circle shifted."

He points at a patch of flowers, dimly glowing in the lingering shadows of the night. It's about one foot away from the closest birch trees and Max knows, just as doubtlessly as Daniel does, that yesterday it was well within the circle.

He can feel the shift in the air as comprehension finally dawns on Daniel, his fingers clenching around the mug, as he takes a step closer to Max, still crouched next to the tree.

"Someone trying to get in?" he asks, voice low, despite knowing that nobody outside the circle would even be able to see them, no matter hear them.

"Or something," Max nods.

He finally stands up, tracing the weird crack one last time, the feeling of it fainter than before. Something is scratching the back of his mind, a memory or an instinct, something that will have him spend a few hours buried in their books later today.

"I don't like it," he repeats, more for himself than for anyone else, but Daniel nods, shifting closer until their shoulders brush, his familiar aura mixing with Max's.

They keep looking into the woods until the sun breaks between the trees, warm light bathing the white trunks in golden, dispersing the last of the mist and welcoming the chirping of the birds instead.

Nothing moves beyond their birch circle, the protective hum of it louder now in the light of day, but Max knows that it doesn't mean there is nothing out there.

He shakes himself off, the warmth of the day already seeping under his skin, and he takes Daniel's hand, guiding him away from the border. They have work to do.

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Since Daniel has been very babygirl today, I need to see him in this top - possibly cropped, a cute pair of knee highs and little panties. I cannot draw anymore so I will just have to leave it to everyone's imagination.

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Nino on Max’s yacht | 📸 pistonsbrothers & @scuderiafemboy

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nobody talk to me. stretch marks. thigh scar. feminine posing. brief seam indent. gloves. hairless. maybe razor bumps…

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max in monaco, he’s got my dream car 😔😔 mad as hell

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Love love love that Daniel is back to his personal posts 🥹

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Aw, cuties 🥰

Approved by Martin Garrix 👌🏻