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Tom looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry for being such a party pooper.”
Mark chuckled, giving him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “Hey, what are friends for? You’re more fun to hang out with anyway.” With a teasing glint in his eyes, he added, “But you do owe me a blow job.”
Tom let out a choked laugh, sputtering beer all over himself.
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Max's pathetic behavior covers someone's bills. So what? The planet keeps spinning. The economy blooms. Whenever actual doubt kicks in, Max can make himself believe he's doing something good.
And the shame? That's easy. He can pay someone to fix it. Tell him it's okay. That he's wanted.
Any time he needs, any time he pays.or - Charles Leclerc will be Max's Achilles heel in any universe. Especially one where he's a cam boy.
Bookmarked by LittleWindmill
29 May 2026
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At 25, Max Verstappen is the youngest head chef that Michelin star restauranteur Christian Horner has ever trusted in the position. Max is focused, dialled in, and eager to get Christian a fifth star, his first. Enter Charles Leclerc, the son of famed Monaco food critic and writer, Pascale Leclerc, a part-time server and architecture student.
He's just... fucking annoying.
**title change, this used to be 'i wanna get better!'.
Series
- Part 1 of grapefruit mignonette
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 73,617
- Chapters:
- 15/15
- Comments:
- 579
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- 3,400
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- 963
- Hits:
- 86,718
Bookmarked by LittleWindmill
18 May 2026
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"Breathe normally," I murmur, keeping my voice professionally light and gentle around the edges of vocals. "The measurement will be off if you hold your breath."
"Is that possible?" His voice catches slightly. "Breathing normally. With you standing this close?"
I allow myself a small smile, defusing the moment with practiced ease. "Most clients manage. Though I admit some find it more challenging than others."
"Hold still," I murmur, and watch him forget how.
Or: Charles Leclerc is a third-generation master tailor with steady hands and a spotless reputation as Max Verstappen arrives with new money and a Provence vineyard under his name. When Max walks into Maison Leclerc seeking suits for the season, he expects fabric and formality. What he gets instead is a fitting room with three mirrors and a man who measures him like he's memorizing scripture. A touch that lingers far longer than professional necessity allows.
Bookmarked by LittleWindmill
11 Apr 2026
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“Can you work with him?”
Max has to take two drags of his cigarette before he can answer, and even then all he says is, “He knew I was the head chef, didn’t he.”
Charles has to have known. Even if the news hadn’t reached him that Max had taken over as the head chef of Taureau Rouge, he would not have travelled all the way from Paris to London for an interview at a restaurant without knowing who he’d be working under.
Still, Charles was the one who broke up with him. Max has to know, for sure.
“He knows,” Christian confirms softly. “He outright laughed at me when I called and asked him to come work at one of my restaurants. It was only after I said it was Taureau Rouge, working with you, that he agreed to come.”
Fuck. Fuck.
Max could’ve gone his whole life without knowing that. He probably fucking should have, because how is he supposed to be normal about it?
// Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. It does mean that everything changes for them both in the space of a single week.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 39,804
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Comments:
- 373
- Kudos:
- 2,894
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- 697
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- 42,957
Bookmarked by LittleWindmill
08 Mar 2026
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Charles likes to cheat on his girlfriend. He wants Max to cheat too.
Bookmarked by LittleWindmill
13 Feb 2026
