#hornstappen

[grogumaximus]

Christian Horner about Max Verstappen's personality | Armchair Expert with Dax Shepard Podcast - eff won: Christian Horner Debrief. Nov 4

Horner: The moment he takes the helmet off, he's the nicest young guy you could ever meet (..)

Shepard: He's shy right?

Horner: He's shy, he's naturally shy. Fame sets uncomfortably with him. He is not a diva or anything like that. He's just one of the boys.

Shepard: It's interesting that I've met other drivers and of course gathered gossip about all of them. Every time I hear the stories (about Max) the kind of resounding unanimous feedback is like everyone loves Max. Everyone tells me Max is actually the sweetest guy off the track. And shy and nice..

Horner: He's a good guy, he's a fun guy and he's old school as well. (...) He trains hard he takes it all very very seriously, but he's got such a huge ability.. I've never met a driver with as much self-confidence and self-belief.

[tyrannosaurus-maxy]

Christian stopping an interview to hug Max

[sennaverstappen]

australian grand prix ♡ 2023

[reigningmax]

🤨?

[effervescentdragon]

On the topic of desire // happy birthday beloved @blorbocedes 💙

Max Verstappen & Christian Horner, Dutch GP 2023

Sources: frank o'hara // danez smith, from summer, somewhere // maya angelou // mary oliver, blue iris // heather havrilesky // susan sontag // leah horlik, for your own good // richard siken // keaton st james, a history student falls in love with astro physicist student // maggie nelson // lucille clifton // alexandra bracken // ada limon, the good fight

[fcb-mv33]

The timing of these reports are very funny lmao to me so imma bless everyone hornstappen giggling🩷

[beechersnope]

Summer of Cum Days 10/11/12: cock warming, cinnamon bun, coming dry

christian/max, warnings for christian being a generally awful person, abortion mention, consensual somnophilia, 1046 words

***

Christian’s cock has been inside her for close to an hour when he finally remembers that Max is supposed to be on her period.

She’s fast asleep; she needs it, has to get up early to make a flight and then it’s work, work, work as soon as she lands. Christian doesn’t want to wake her, and he’s more than comfortable himself, so he closes his eyes and does the math in his head rather than rolling over to grab his phone from the nightstand to confirm.

It isn’t a fetish thing. Max’s period cramps are so bad that she can barely race without a steady supply of just the right sort of painkillers, hot water therapy, intensive massage—and copious amounts of orgasms, of course.

Keeping a log of Max’s menstrual cycle in his calendar is just the sort of thing that any good team principal would do for their star driver.

Christian counts backwards to the last time he’d had Max squirming in pain in his bed, tucked up in the fetal position with his fingers inside her and a dark-colored towel under her hips. This should’ve been the last day of her period, he realizes, which means she isn’t just late, she’s late.

Christian feels himself getting hard again inside her and stifles a groan in the tangled mess of her hair. He’d already come three times: once with her riding him, then again with her on her back, then finally like this, spooning as she fell asleep. He hadn’t expected to fuck her again, not at his age, but the thought that she might actually be pregnant has him feeling as though he’s nineteen again.

She’s not going to keep it, of course. Christian will tell her in the morning, and he’ll make all the necessary arrangements to keep things discreet so she can race in the rest of the season and win him a championship. But that doesn’t make the current reality any less potent.

Max isn’t a light sleeper, but Christian knows that he can’t fuck her the way he really wants to without waking her, so he stays inside her for the moment and breathes out quiet little groans against her back as he gently grinds his cock inside her.

It feels good, even without the friction he so desperately craves. She’s always tight, unable to fully relax even in her sleep, and he can feel her pussy fluttering around him every time he moves so much as a millimeter. He thinks he could come like this, but it isn’t what he really wants.

Christian waits until the last possible second before pulling out with a too-loud gasp that echoes in the silence. He rolls onto his back and waits, listening to the steady rhythm of Max’s sleep-breathing, peaceful and uninterrupted. Carefully, he extricates himself from the sheets and gets out of bed, palming his cock against his belly as he circles around to the other side where Max is curled up.

It takes a few minutes to coax Max into the position he wants without waking her. He turns on the bedside lamp to its lowest setting, wanting more illumination than the light of the full moon outside coming in through the bedroom window. He pulls the sheets down past her feet, leaving them scrunched up at the foot of the bed. He carefully nudges her onto her back, arms above her head, legs splayed so he can see the damp center of her where she’s still open from his cock. There’s dried come at the edges of her pussy, and it makes Christian stifle a moan against the back of his hand.

Christian isn’t the only one fucking her, but he knows it’s been a while, maybe even long enough that it’s his baby in her belly. The thought has his balls drawing up tight against his body, his cock in his hand giving an almost painful throb. He almost wishes he could fuck off the rest of her season, just keep her here in Oxfordshire while she gets big and round with his kid. He’d fuck her endlessly, right up until the moment she's ready to pop.

Maybe someday he will, Christian thinks as he frantically fucks his own fist, staring down at the soft swell of her belly, even though there’s nothing there for him to see—not yet. Maybe once she’s done with Formula 1 for good, he’ll knock her up again, have her birth a whole litter of kids, even. Put them into karts once they’re old enough, the same way Jos did with her. That’s what they do with retired racehorses, isn’t it? Use them as breeding stock?

Christian carefully climbs up onto the bed and kneels over her as he strips his cock even faster. He’s close again, he can feel it, but after staving off release once, it eludes him the second time, making him even more desperate, the grip on his cock so tight it hurts.

Christian has visions of painting Max’s belly white with his come, but when his orgasm finally washes over him, nothing but a few drops of watery jism splash down onto Max’s skin. Christian lets out a disappointed whine, and immediately drops down to fuck his cock back into Max’s pussy before he can go soft.

Max gives a little jolt under him as Christian’s weight suddenly falls on top of her.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Christian says, carefully lifting himself back up again so he can look down into her face without pulling out of her.

“S’okay,” Max said sleepily. “What time is it?”

“You still have a few hours,” Christian reassures her.

He hesitates for a moment, thinking he should tell her now. It would be the right thing to do, the responsible thing to do. She could make her arrangements in Belgium with her mother at her side and come back to him once it’s over.

“Christian?” Max says, sounding a little more awake now. She must have seen the conflict playing out on his face. She was always just a little too good at reading people. “Is everything okay?”

Christian forces a smile. “Of course, darling. Go back to sleep.”

They still have plenty of time.

[goldenboots1]

Find someone who looks at you the way Lando and Christian look at Max 😍

[grogumaximus]

Christian: Max as a person is just a really nice 25 year old young man. That is passionate about racing. Uncomfortable with the level of fame or notoriety that he has.

Now, just wants to do his job. Race the car hard. He's very very straightforward, very honest. And you know he loves spending time on his playstation if he's not in a race car.

And uh, outside of the car he is quite a gentle character.

Inside the car he's ruthless. I have never met a driver who is as driven as Max from the moment he steps into the car you know that you're going to get 110% and he will expect 110% back.

From the moment that car leaves the garage is interesting whenever we go to a racetrack, even in new circuits, the first lap of the weekend, in many respects is meaningless. I will almost put my house on it, that the driver comes out, the first lap with the fastest time, sometimes two or three seconds lap quicker than any other driver is Max. Because it's a way of him stamping his authority on. 'I'm at one with my car' 'I'm at the top of my game' and bang! And he has the confidence, the ability, the feel and the technique to be able to do that and to be able to adapt.

He came into formula 1 at a very young age, you know as a teenager. Having missed the training that goes on through the lower formulas, he did that very publicly in an arena formula 1 where every move that these guys make is scrutinized and pulled apart and I think he came through that. And his mental strength at the big game moments whether is a qualifying lap, whether it's a start, whether it's an overtake, whether it's an outlap, that's where he's outstanding. I've not seen a driver with his or seen a driver previously with his resilience to be able to deal with pressure at those high stakes moments.

Christian Horner on Secrets of Success Podcast

[tyrannosaurus-maxy]

Max's reaction to Christian getting which race he won wrong

[sennaverstappen]

me when im transgender

[adorablebabypenguin]

Can we have some little max and cg horner plz?

Adore this, thank you anon

Little Max + Cg Christian

Max regresses after most races and Christian is always there to praise and be there for him, no matter the result

Max calls christian "papa" or "dad" or "daddy" depending on his age

Max has nightmares about his childhood and Christian is always there to cuddle him back to sleep

Christian spoils the ever loving god out of him

Max ocassionaly waits for Christian in his office, so Christian always tries to lwave post-it noes, and Max always tries to write a reply

Christian keeps tabs on Max and makes sure hes not over working himself

Someone once called Max a cub and thats Max´s name when little

[verstappenclerc]

the very fabric of love is the fondness in their eyes

[amphibiangeorgerussel]

new hornstappen posted. sickos check my ao3 😘

[beechersnope]

Wild Dream Come True

Christian/Max (Past Christian/Seb), 1645 words

Warnings/Tags: major dubcon, grooming, drunk sex, anal gaping, fisting, loss of virginity, possessiveness, power imbalance, age difference, painful sex

***

Seb was twenty-one years old when he won his first race for Red Bull. Max is eighteen.

That matters, somehow, to Christian. He’d thought he would have more time to take Max under his wing, get him used to the idea of warming his bed, break through the hard shell that Jos had built up around his boy to keep him cut off from the pleasures of the world.

It turns out not to matter. One purposeful touch from Christian—a hand on the inside of Max’s thigh under the table at the team dinner, nice and public so he won’t make a scene—is all it takes to crack him like an egg.

Max is hard almost immediately. But Christian makes him wait. And after, when he has a half-drunk Max alone in his hotel room: Christian makes it worth it.

“Have you ever done this before?” Christian asks as Max lies on the bed, staring up at him blearily as Christian takes his time peeling Max out of his sweaty clothes.

Seb had never known the touch of a man before Christian had taken him that night in Shanghai. He’d been tight, but had acclimated surprisingly quickly to the feeling of a hard cock inside him, giving back just as good as he’d gotten by the end. Christian doesn’t think Max will do the same.

“No,” Max says, shaking his head slowly as a blush creeps down his face, deepening the already bright pink spots on his cheeks. “Never, I’ve—I haven’t. With anyone.”

Those words course through Christian like an electric current. It’s all he can do to keep himself from tearing off the rest of Max’s clothes and fucking into him right then and there. That isn’t what Christian has planned for him—at least not yet.

“Oh, my darling boy,” Christian says as he reaches up to cradle Max’s cheek, soft and gentle.

Max leans into the touch, always so eager for everything. Wins. Approval. Love.

Christian can give him all three.

“Get on your tummy for me?” Christian prompts once he has Max naked and spread out in front of him, his thighs loose and open revealing a half-hard cock already leaking precome, so wet already that Max must have been aching in his jeans for hours. “It’ll be easier that way.”

He doesn’t tell Max what he intends to do. He doesn’t want to give him the opportunity to say no.

With Seb, Christian had made mistakes. He’d sucked Seb off first, fingered him open sweetly, and then made him come again on Christian’s cock while Seb rode him, letting Seb control the pace, the force, the depth. Seb had learnt what he liked from the encounter—and what he didn’t. They never slept together again in all that time that Seb was with Red Bull, even while rumors reached Christian’s ears that Seb was slutting it up with nearly half the grid by the end.

So no, Christian isn’t going to make Max come before he opens him up. He doesn’t even really care if Max comes at all. That isn’t what this is about. Pleasure was never the point.

Max—sweet, obedient, and a virgin—rolls onto his stomach without complaint. He drags his cock against the sheets, leaving it hanging down between his legs instead of tucking it against his stomach. Maybe he thinks that’ll tempt Christian into touching him. Or maybe it’s just that Max doesn’t realize he won’t even be able to hump the bed like that, won’t be able to get the friction he really needs when it matters the most.

Good, Christian thinks to himself before turning around to get the lube.

Christian isn’t stingy about slicking himself up. Not that it matters. Christian could use the whole bottle and Max still wouldn’t be able to sit down the next day. Might not even be able to walk. It’ll make the plane home hell, and his next race might even suffer as a result, but it’ll be worth the temporary loss in points over the long term.

Christian knows when he has a champion in the making. He might have fucked it all up with Sebastian, but this time, he’s not about to let Max slip out of his grasp.

“It’ll hurt,” Christian tells Max. “Did you clean yourself like I asked?” He’d sent Max up to the hotel room first; given him detailed instructions for what he needed to do with the items he’d left in the bathroom.

Max nods against the pillow, leaving a spit-damp mark against the fabric.

“Good boy,” Christian says, smoothing his left hand against the small of Max’s back. He’s slender now, still very much a teenager, but Christian can already tell he’ll grow into his body, put on weight he won’t be able to cut like the others—fit, muscular, but with softness clinging to his chest, his thighs, his hips.

Christian wants that. He wants to insure that even a Max in his prime will still be lying in Christian’s bed with his legs spread. Open, loose-limbed, hard and wanting. Ripe for the taking.

Max allows the first finger inside him with little protest. He barely reacts, the wine dulling his senses, slowing his reflexes. It’s not enough, yet, to hurt.

The second garners a muffled sound of protest. Christian keeps going, fucking into Max slow and steady with two fingers for as long as he can stand it, waiting until Max settles down again before pulling out entirely to press in a third.

“Hurts,” Max finally says, and Christian can see that between his legs, Max isn’t hard anymore.

“It’s all right,” Christian tells him. “You’re doing so well for me. Just relax.”

Christian can tell that Max is trying hard not to cry. He feels prouder than he’s ever been. The way Max is letting him inside despite everything in his body rebelling against it feels even better than the win.

Christian waits until Max is hard again before really starting to fuck Max with his fingers, digging in deep with Max shuddering around him, pulling at the rim of his hole until his body finally gives up, stops fighting back. Then Christian squeezes in his pinky, and Max screams.

“You can take it, darling. I know you can.”

Christian doesn’t pull his fingers out even as Max writhes underneath him, too overwhelmed to really get away from what Christian is doing. Christian is happy he didn’t have to tie Max up for it, glad that he’d been right all along about what his darling boy could handle. He is doing well, better than Seb would have done if their positions were reversed, and maybe that was the real reason that things had never worked out the way Christian had hoped.

Max is perfect. And Max is his.

“Just a little more,” Christian tells Max with a soothing hand running across his back. “You’re almost there.”

Max’s rim stretches wide around the breadth of Christian’s fingers, white where the pressure has temporarily forced the blood out of the capillaries, swollen and red everywhere else. Christian can feel Max trying to force him out, but he fucks him through it, waiting until Max finally stops squirming before resting a hand firmly against the center of Max’s back so he can’t shy away from what he really needs.

“Deep breath, love,” Christian whispers. He waits for Max’s ribs to expand under his hand before pressing down hard, pinning him to the bed as he folds in his thumb and pushes.

The sound that emerges from Max’s mouth as Christian’s hand slides inside him to the wrist isn’t human.

The breath gets sucked out of both of them. Christian’s mouth goes dry as he realizes what he’s accomplished. Max, who has never been touched before this by anyone, has now been irrevocably transformed. The memory of the first time he’s ever been fucked will always be this: Christian’s fist inside him, stretching him open, remaking him anew.

It doesn’t matter now who Max takes to bed in the coming years. It will all be a pale imitation of what Christian did first. Even if this is what Max decides he wants from someone else, it’ll only be because Christian is the one who taught him to want it.

“Can you feel how well you’re taking me?” Christian asks, voice full of wonder.

Max tries to answer, but the garbled noise that comes out doesn’t resemble either English or Dutch.

Christian feels like Icarus as he carefully makes an attempt to press in even deeper. He stops when Max jerks hard against the mattress, almost dry heaving against the pillow. Christian doesn’t want to break him. Not entirely.

This isn’t about ruining Max. This is about reshaping him.

When Christian finally pulls out and sees the gaping void he’s created, it feels like another victory. He presses his fingers along the edges of Max’s hole, treasuring every muted whimper as he strips his own cock fast and hard. He has to make this official, after all.

Christian comes with all the force of a popped bottle of champagne, painting Max’s insides white and watching it drip down inside him, where it belongs.

He climbs in bed after, cradling Max’s tear-stained face against his chest and stroking his soft blonde hair until finally, Max drifts into a blessed unconsciousness, free for now from the ache between his legs that Christian had bestowed upon him like a sacred gift.

Christian waits until Max’s breathing slows, deepens, before reaching down again to press four fingers into Max’s hole. He’s pleased to find it still wide and gaping, the muscles fluttering weakly against the strength of his hand, unable to resist when Christian tugs experimentally, wondering just how long he can keep Max like this.

Perfect. Open. His. Forever.

[reigningmax]

Japanese Grand Prix By Clive Rose