emeraldscript

on ao3

[emeraldscript]

love(sick) - 5k - complete (2/2)

Jules Gounon/Dani Juncadella • Max Verstappen/Chris Lulham

Hurt Comfort/Sick Fic

The night before the GT World Challenge season opener, Jules finds himself in world of hurt and refuses to let the team down. Dani is there to help.

[emeraldscript]

love(sick) - 5k - complete (2/2)

Jules Gounon/Dani Juncadella • Max Verstappen/Chris Lulham

Hurt Comfort/Sick Fic

The night before the GT World Challenge season opener, Jules finds himself in world of hurt and refuses to let the team down. Dani is there to help.

[emeraldscript]

love(sick) - 5k - complete (2/2)

Jules Gounon/Dani Juncadella • Max Verstappen/Chris Lulham

Hurt Comfort/Sick Fic

The night before the GT World Challenge season opener, Jules finds himself in world of hurt and refuses to let the team down. Dani is there to help.

[anemptyflask]

Jules and Dan(i/y)

So this got me thinking about Jules/Dani and this got me thinking about Jules/Danny and now here we are :)

850 words of... Whatever this is

They don't talk on the phone often, but when they do, Max will take the time to update him on everything that is going on in his life. Daniel enjoys it. Sometimes he calls just to hear him talk. Daniel always makes sure he's alone when he takes these calls, he's never sure how long they will be.

They've been going for a while now and Max had worked his way through most of his “spring break” so far. Daniel had been apprehensive to take the call at first, understanding the way that a bad car could taint your entire mood for weeks. And Max's bad luck hadn't just been relegated to F1. But Max has been generally pleasant, chatting about Lily and P and the fun of GT3, disqualification aside. He was now up to “Team Principal Max.” And as much as Max loved racing, Daniel could see him shifting fully to a CEO or team principal role someday. Not for a long time, but it suited him. He had the mind for it. And Max would never fully retire. Not like Daniel.

“Really,” Max is saying, “Jules should not have raced at all.”

Daniel's brain short circuits for a moment. Jules. Jules Gounun. Right.

He's not sure why it throws him so much. It's not even that it wasn't a common name. It just caught him off guard. That's all.

"But I would be a hypocrite if I did not let him race with a little food poisoning I have or course driven with worse.” Daniel wasn't going to comment on that. He probably should, but he wasn't going to.

“Of course Jules and Dani are quite close. He mostly took care of him.”

Jules and Dani.

Jules and Danny.

“He was of course very stupid but he did well. He was back in the medical center after the race. Dani was with him every moment he could be, it was very sweet in a lot of ways to see.”

They hadn't let Daniel into the medical center. He'd tried to get in. They wouldn't let him. The hospital either. And then they were moving on before he ever got a chance to visit. He should have been there. He shouldn't have-

“It was only a couple hours but I still feel responsible. I should not have let him race. But Dani says it was okay so maybe it was.”

It wasn't okay. It hadn't been okay.

“Jules and Dani, the both of them, did well and Chris did too. He is just not as experienced.”

Jules and Dani.

Jules and Danny.

Like an echo of what was and what should have been.

Of what Daniel had and was lost.

Of what others have when he should have it too.

“I am excited to drive with Lucas too this weekend. He was quite good in karting. I think it will be a good team.”

It wasn't fair. Twelve years later and there was still an ache. Still the remembrance of a best friend gone too soon.

“Have you decided if you will be at Miami?”

It didn't seem fair. The first day Max had set foot on the racetrack had been Jules last. Like some sort of sick replacement. A consolation prize.

“Daniel?”

But it wasn't fair to think like that. Not at all. Max was his friend. One of his best friends. It hadn't been an equal swap but it was never going to be. And that was okay. He'd come to terms with that.

Until he'd heard those two names said in succession. In the same breath. In the way it was once upon a time.

One couldn't be found without the other. Like a package duo.

Jules and Danny.

“Daniel? Are you still there?”

“What? Yes, sorry, sorry mate, yeah, I- that's all cool. About the gt stuff. I'll keep an eye on things. Qualifier yeah? With Lucas?”

There's a brief pause and Daniel tries to shake out the tremor in his hand.

“Yes, that is- are you okay?”

“Yeah sorry, I was just thinking- look I've got to go but it was great catching up. Can't wait to hear about the qualifier.”

“Okay… I'm sorry if I-”

“No, no you're fine, Maxy, really. I'll call you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” He says again, still sounding unsure.

“Uh, bye.” he hangs up quickly before the awkwardness can sit any longer.

He should have said more, maybe tried to explain but- there's no way he can explain this. Not and seem sane.

How do you talk about it? About shared apartments and nutella piadinas and a smile that outshined the whole room? Daniel has tried to copy the smile for over a decade. He never felt like he could get it quite right.

Jules and Dani.

Said so casually. Like the three words weren't a detonation in his head- his heart. Of a loss that was never properly grieved.

Two names so intertwined that the universe had to correct it somehow. Make sure the two souls were kept together in some way.

Jules and Dani.

Jules and Danny.

Daniel alone.

[jup1t33r]

gbb week 9: Mirrors/Flashes/Silicone

folks. not to set myself up for disappointment but i really love how this one turned out.

technically in my fabric verse but WAY less intense than Fabric Soft and 100% understandable w/o reading FS.

2.5k, mostly below the cut.

---

You go everywhere with Mama. If you aren't pressed close to her chest, cheek resting in the crook of her shoulder, you're trailing behind her, her dress clenched tight in your fist, fabric soft in your hand.

People coo at you, voices high-pitched and strange, words alien to your ears. When they speak in words you recognize, they say, How sweet! Say, You look so alike!

Soon, you learn to recognize the shape of these words in every language. A crinkle of the eyes; a dip of the head. Mama's smile, bright, as she hugs you close and presses her nose into your cheek.

You giggle, nose scrunching; your smile just the same as hers.

-

When you're old enough to start karting, people talk to Mama and Papa at the circuit, and you stand, bored and impatient as you wait for them to finish so you can drive.

They say, You look so alike! to you and Mama, and they lean down to say, But you're fast like your papa, huh?

You stomp your foot, nose crinkled. Say, Mama's fast too!

They blink in surprise, but Mama smiles, soft, and when you get into the kart, you try to make her smile again. Try to be fast just like her.

-

You think that Vic looks like the plastic-wrapped ham that Mama gets from the store when she's a baby. Wrinkled and pink, too chubby to do anything other than gurgle and wave.

Once she starts to look more like a person, the comments start coming in: You look so alike!

On one occasion, someone, a laugh in their voice, says, Wow, you two must be twins!

You jump to your feet, face hot. Wag your finger, like Mama does when she's telling you off for making a mess, before she smooths your hair out and kisses you on the forehead.

No! I'm big, and she's just a baby! I won a race last week, and she doesn't even know her alphabet!

The person walks off with a chuckle, and you sit back down next to Vic, hard. Cross your arms. Blow a raspberry after them, because you know it always makes Vic laugh.

Vic squeals and bubbles in delight, blowing messy raspberries of her own.

You smile and blow another, the quirk of your lips making it come out choppy.

Vic reaches up, still grinning wide, and brushes a chubby baby hand down your nose. Your nose, just the same as hers.

-

Nobody ever tells you you look like Papa. He starts bringing you to the track more and more by himself, and you run to keep up with him, helmet knocking against your legs. Try to arrange your face into a scowl to mimic his.

But you're not so good at scowling, and when Papa yells at you for taking too long to undo the clasps on your helmet, fingers awkward, your face drops, and you look more like Mama instead, eyes wet and corners of your mouth turned down at Papa's harsh words.

Nobody ever tells you you look like Papa, but sometimes people tell you that you're fast like him. So you buckle the clasps on your helmet all by yourself and press your foot down on the accelerator harder. Hope that you can make Papa smile. Hope that maybe then you'll look like him.

-

Mama and Vic leave. Or maybe you do. It's hard to be sure; everything blurs together through your teary eyes.

Mama hugs you tight; gives you a watery smile that you try desperately to return, but the corners of your mouth keep wobbling, pulling down.

You watch hers do the same. Smile just the same as yours, like always.

When she leaves (when you leave), you wonder if she's taking your smile away with her. (You wonder if you're taking hers.)

-

You go to the track again and again and again. When you look in the mirror, you don't see Mama's smile, but you see her tired eyes, and you see Vic's brows pinch together on your forehead.

You see the way your hair starts to curl around your ears like Mama's does, now that she's not around to trim it for you, gentle fingers tucking it out of the way. Wonder, for a moment, how long you can go without cutting it—how much longer you can coax the curl.

Later that week, you spin off the track in your kart as the rain starts to patter down quick. Papa wrenches your helmet off your head as soon as your fingers fumble open the clasp. Rips off your balaclava; digs his fingers into your hair, gripping tight, hands large and rough.

You find yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, scissors in hand, trying to forget the way Papa's eyes had looked, cold as ice.

His blue eyes the same as yours.

-

The first time someone tells you you look like Papa, you can hear in their tone that it's meant to be a compliment—meant to be in good faith.

But you feel the scowl heavy on your eyelids and curled in your upper lip, and you always wanted to be like Papa, but you wanted to do it smiling.

But Mama took your smile with her when she left, and maybe you took hers too, but you lost it somewhere along the way, and now all you're left with is Papa's mouth in a hard line on the top step, and Papa's icy blue eyes in the mirror.

A voice echoes in your ears, light and unassuming: You look just like your father!

You throw up in the dark.

-

You don't know, at the time, that your final race in karts will be your last.

And you don't know, at the time, that it will be unfinished, incomplete—a disqualification and a championship loss and a tense eight-hour flight, sitting carefully to not disturb the silence and the bruises.

You don't know how it will end. You just sit in the kart, like always; fasten your clasps and knock down your visor, where nobody can see the scowl hanging heavy over blue eyes.

You go fast, like Mama. (Like Papa.) Like always.

But you don't know that it's the last time. And you'll go fast again, but you'll never again sink into your kart and see Mama behind you in your mirrors, chasing you down, smiling wide.

You move to single-seaters, and you go even faster, and you leave her behind in the dust. Leave her again and again and again.

-

You meet with Christian, one-on-one. He says that he raced against your mama in karts. Says that she was good. Really good.

He says that you race just like her.

(It's been so long since anybody said you were just like your mama.)

He says that he wants to give you an opportunity to do what he and she never did. To go faster still.

You take it.

-

Before Toro Rosso was Toro Rosso, it was called Minardi.

Your father drove for Minardi.

It was your father's last team. It's your first. He scored no points in their car. You score 49.

There's a team member who survived the Minardi buyout and stayed on for the dozen years it took for you to see your name printed on the side of an F1 car.

When you first meet, he tells you you're just like your father.

The rest of the team's introductions get reduced to static in your ears.

-

Your mama comes to watch you race.

The whole weekend, you wait for the once-familiar words to come, but they don't.

(You wonder exactly when you changed into someone unrecognizable.)

-

You win, and for a moment, it feels like maybe you evened the score. You left your mama behind a long time ago, but now you've left your father behind, too, a step below you on the podium and over a decade in the past.

But the interviewer calls you down from the top step and asks you about how proud he must be.

You can't help the way your mouth twists, and even though you try to lock the anger away tight in your jaw, it only brings you closer to him.

-

The engine dies and dies and dies beneath you.

It's your fault, every time. And you always keep your hair short, nowadays, but it's not short enough, because you can still feel your father's fingers on your scalp, on your wrists, on your chin.

Every time you get into the cockpit, you grip the wheel as tight as you can, like you can hold the car together through willpower alone.

Every time it breaks beneath you, you slam your hands down, hard.

(Every time you look at your wheel, it's littered with the deep blue ghosts of bruises.)

-

You hear it all the time, now—how you're just like your father. Too angry, too risky, too harsh.

You crash, and you crash, and you crash, and your father's hand is around your arm, too tight, and his voice is in your ear, words sharp, and his scowl is on your face, etched in deep.

Christian says something needs to change.

You walk home from the track, where you've fucked up again (again, again, again). Turn on all the lights in your apartment and stare at your reflection, hands gripping the countertop, tight.

Your father's eyes stare back.

You want to rip your skin off. But you know the resemblance runs much deeper than that.

You want to rip your beating heart right out of your chest.

-

Everybody leaves. Or maybe you do. It's hard to be sure.

You're the one who's still with Red Bull, but it's your dust everyone else is choking on.

Maybe you aren't meant to have something that lasts.

-

Kelly never mentions your father unless you bring him up.

In return, you never mention hers.

It's easy not to—when you look at her, everything else falls away. All you see is the most beautiful person in the world, the love of your life, eyes warm and playful, sweet lips coming in to meet your own. There are no traces of anybody else in her face, except for lovely little P, who has her dark hair and her dark eyes and her chin.

(P, of course, doesn't look like you at all.)

You never ask Kelly what she sees when she looks at you. You're afraid of the answer.

-

The championship looks within reach.

Your father is let back into the garage.

You thought you'd be stronger, now, than when you were a child, but it hurts just the same as always.

-

When you slam into the barriers, it feels, just for a moment, like coming home.

-

The pain, honestly, isn't that bad. You're well used to climbing into the car and ignoring the way your body screams.

Once you're on the track, everything drops away anyway, and the only parts of you that matter are your hands on the wheel and your feet on the pedals.

The pain isn't that bad, but your vision—that's a different issue. The circuit sways before you, blurring. You try to look for familiar landmarks, but all the turns are alien, twisting the wrong way.

When you climb out of the car, you massage your temples and breathe deep, but nothing works.

You hear a voice, and you look up, squinting. Across the garage, you see your father, face pinched tight.

You flinch. Your reflection flinches back.

-

When you win, your father pulls you in, and you pull right back. Claw your hands into the fabric of his sweater, tuck yourself into the crook of his shoulder the best you can with your helmet in the way.

He tries to pull away, but you don't let him. You keep your grip on him so tight it must be bruising.

(He's the only person who ever stayed. You only know of permanence when it hurts.)

-

You start seeing Mama and Vic more.

You start seeing your father less.

You grow your hair out, just a bit.

But you take your helmet off after pulling into the P2 spot, and you run your hand through your hair, unmussing it, trying to keep the scowl off your face, and your fingers catch—momentary tangle. Your fingers catch and snag and pull, and for a second, your hands aren't your own, though they're still familiar: large and rough.

At home, Kelly carefully snips your hair back into place, her fingers long and gentle and steady. Her voice replaces the one that's been looping in your head since parc fermé.

P pouts that she won't be able to tie your hair up into tiny pigtails anymore, and you can't find the words to placate her past the lump in your throat.

-

Lio has Vic's nose.

When you tell her, voice soft and reverent, she laughs, and it comes out like a sob.

Funny, she says, running a gentle finger down the bridge of yours. I thought the same thing.

-

P asks if she can go karting for her birthday. It's the first time you ever raise your voice in front of her.

(The words sound like they're coming from somewhere distant. Somewhere a thousand miles away, years ago.)

She blinks back tears, and you drop to your knees; pull her in close.

The apologies you kiss into her hair are choked out in a voice you've never heard before. (Your father never said Sorry.)

-

Some fan with a paddock pass and cell phone camera set to selfie mode catches up to you as you're walking to the garages with Mama.

Oh my god, they say, breathless, hand dipping down, eyes wide. You two look so alike!

Mama gets pulled into the picture too, and when you curl the corners of your mouth up, your joy is genuine.

You find the photo later, on X, and you stare at the imprints of you and Mama, pressed side by side. Your smile on her face; her smile on yours.

-

When you hold Lily for the first time, she's so small you're afraid you'll crush her, hands too large and rough.

But she slots into your arms, easy, and she blinks up at you, completely silent.

Hallo, kleintje, you whisper.

She looks like you, Kelly says.

You blink. Lily follows suit. Her eyes are clear and blue and wide.

She's so beautiful. She's so small.

The tears come before you can stop them. Salt water drips off the point of your nose, collects in the nook above your lips. Your throat closes, and your shoulders shake, but your arms around Lily are steady.

Kelly's hand is warm on your back.

Lily's gaze stays serenely upwards, locked onto you.

Her eyes are just the same as yours.

[emeraldscript]

love(sick) on ao3

Jules Gounon/Dani Juncadella • Hurt Comfort/Sick Fic

Verstappen Racing Polycule adjacent • Max Verstappen & Chris Lulham

The night before the GT World Challenge season opener, Jules finds himself in world of hurt and refuses to let the team down. Dani is there to help.

[emeraldscript]

incredibly intrigued by the verstappen racing polycule so here's a snippet of a jules/dani thing i'm working on. set during paul ricard gt world challenge where jules was haunted by the horrors and dani was and i quote "as always there for him in the tough moments"

max will play a role, obviously, eventually; warning: food poisoning and all that comes with it

Jules aches. Everywhere. His joints. His muscles. The roof of his mouth hurts, for God's sake. The room spins round and round as he tries to make it over to the bed. He somehow does and collapses onto the mattress. 

Everything spins, even when he closes his eyes but if he just focuses on his breathing enough, he can keep the nausea at bay. Just. There's a horrible pressure behind his eyelids.

He does his best to let his stiff body melt into the hard hotel mattress, imagines he's anywhere but where he is at the moment and does fall into a weird half sleep. At least for a bit.

He wakes up eventually from a horrible wave of nausea and throws up into the little waste basket by the bed. He can't really remember much. He feels disgusting but is way too groggy to move, let alone clean anything. 

He drifts in and out. His mouth feels acidy and dry at the same time. He really wants to drink something but his stomach tightens like crazy at the thought of having to keep water down.

Eventually, he hears a knocking noise. He ignores it at first. Maybe he's hallucinating. 

"-ules!" he hears faintly over the rushing in his ears. The world feels like it's behind a thick curtain he can't quite drag open.

"Jules!" he hears again. The voice sounds familiar. 

"Open up, mate!" the person says.

Jules drags himself up from the bed, nearly trips over his discarded shoes in the middle of the room but catches himself on the side of the desk by the door.

He opens the door without checking the peephole. He's way too sick to think straight. It must be important if they're knocking.

He struggles to pull back the door. It's heavy as fuck, he doesn't know why. Everything goes black for a second then.

"Jules? Holy fuck!" is all he hears when he's suddenly looking at his hotel room ceiling. No, the wall maybe? The wallpaper is horrible, either way. He feels something put pressure on his arms and torso. It feels nice. Warm. Safe. It also feels familiar. He knows that scent from somewhere.

"-abe! Jules!" filters through again. There's a gentle touch at his cheek. It feels like a soft slap. When he opens his eyes again slowly, a familiar face is looking down at him. 

Dani. Oh thank fuck.

"What the fuck! Are you okay?" the other says. He sounds panicked.

"Why are you upset? Did something happen?" Jules slurs out. He doesn't like that tone in Dani's voice at all.

"What? English please, Jules," Dani says from above. Wait what?

"-ou upset?" Jules tries again. Maybe that was right.

"Am I upset? Are you okay? I just saw your text. You didn't respond, I called like three times. I was worried, idiot!" Dani says, all very quickly. His accent is thick, thicker than usual. 

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 6 is live!

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 6 is live!

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 4 is live! Happy New Year :)

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 5 is live

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 4 is live! Happy New Year :)

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 5 is live

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 4 is live! Happy New Year :)

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 4 is live! Happy New Year :)

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!

[emeraldscript]

Chapter 4 is live! Happy New Year :)

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!

[emeraldscript]

abt how ppl prefer to get fic updates:

i mean i don't rlly know (i tend to stagger chap posts by a couple of days) but I want it Right Now if that helps

done chief! new chapters are live

[emeraldscript]

all the things i would do

max/gp, not so minor maxiel - erectile dysfunction / chapter 1/5

In 2026, the car is mediocre, the strategy is even worse and to top it all off, Max's dick stops working.

Read on AO3.

(Snippet under the cut)

Daniel is moaning like crazy now. His legs have started shaking. Max tries desperately to pump himself to hardness to no avail. All he feels is chafing and Daniel's hot, aching cock in his mouth. Daniel sounds fucking unbelievable above him, groaning harder with each suck.

This alone would've pushed Max over the edge in the past, hell even last year. But now his dick won't fucking twitch. All he can fucking think of in this moment is his loss of grip into turn three and GP in his ear going "one second to the car ahead, Max."

It loops in his head over and over. GP's voice, a wave of desperation and the lukewarm feeling of not quite getting there.

He feels Daniel's hand tighten in his hair in warning, feels the other's breathing pick up and then stock altogether. Suddenly his mouth is filled with hot and wet. Max fakes a moan and swallows the load in one go. All Max is left with is a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

[emeraldscript]

Chapters 2&3 are live!