1 - 20 of 326 Bookmarks by srociox
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“I’m kind of in a rush because I have a birthday party for a friend. I need a present, but he doesn’t really like music.”
The man’s bright smile fades. Max feels a tightness in his chest at the sight of that, but as the words he’s just said process in both of their minds, he realizes he’s probably got worse things to worry about than making this beautiful man smile.
God, he’s beautiful.
“I’m sorry. So, you need a present for a friend who doesn’t really like music and you came into a record store?”
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OR: Max finds a way to give all his friends the gift of music (and it totally has nothing to do with the cute boy who works at the record store)
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“What the hell is this, Charles?” Max stares in alarm at himself through the mirror.
No, Charles has not shaved him bald. Actually, Max just got settled down post-hair wash so Charles has not had the chance to cut a single hair on his head.
Yet here Max is, looking on in shock. Horror, even.
Why is he wearing an atrocious cape covered in dogs?!
“Hmm? What do you mean?” Charles asks innocently, turned away from Max. When Charles finally faces the mirror again, Max is still able to catch the faintest smug smile that he had not been able to repress. Sneaky fucker.
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Or, how a Formula 1 driver fell in love with a menace of a hairdresser. The Max and Charles prequel to My Hairdresser, His Secrets, and I.
Series
- Part 2 of Love is in the (H)air
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It all started with a stolen wallet from some sort of Dutch mafia man at the club. He'd entertained the man, slipped his hand into his suit jacket, and plucked the debit card from inside with the intention of buying something nice. It wasn't like Charles really understood that his tattooed stranger was Max Verstappen, the Penoze boss of Amsterdam. Besides, how were either of them supposed to anticipate the wild sex that followed, a turf war with Italian mafia for the exotic dancer, and falling into an unconventional relationship? The things one does for love...
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“Nice pants, chéri.”
Charles closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to hide the smile that insisted on appearing.
“Don't start.”
“They're mine.”
“The MV leaves no room for doubt, does it?”
“No. It doesn't"
or when Max can’t help but make Charles wear his MV pants around the paddock.
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Hard to Speak With My Tongue in Your Mouth by my_blue_wheelbarrow
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
04 Jan 2026
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Max and Charles are university students, and they're friends. Friends that kiss and cuddle and have sex.
Max finds himself in a situationship. One he's helplessly in love with.
Don't ask Max' roommates about it.
Or,
Five times Max and Charles are... something, and one time they're much more than that. A university situationship case study.
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Max plots to swap Charles’s sensible swimwear for something far more scandalous during their Maldivian family holiday, he expects blushing protests and playful scolding—not the sly, surrendering smile that promises this vacation is about to get very interesting.
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AU: Four-time Formula One World Champion, and Omega driver for the Scuderia, Charles Leclerc spies unsuspecting IT worker, Max Verstappen, one fine day during the Monaco GP weekend and decides then and there he’s found his baby daddy.
Series
- Part 5 of pour some sugar on me
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Here’s the thing about Charles Leclerc: Max Verstappen is never going to be able to fully escape him. Not really. Not in a way that matters.
or
Max Verstappen tries his best to move past his infatuation with Charles Leclerc. Because it's not serious. It can't be. Loving him means losing him, and that's something he completely refuses to do. However, it's not easy with Charles following him around all the time, looking like that, sounding like that, being like that - being Charles Leclerc.
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"Scram," Charles orders suddenly, with a flick of the hand that vacates the young noble by two burly guards. There's only Max left. He has stood in front of royals, in front of monsters, in front of Gods; nothing has left him more frozen than to stand in front of his husband. Having his full attention is dizzying, even with the cloak's protection. “Who are you?”
or; after ten years, Max comes back home. It doesn't quite go as he expected.
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AU: When pop superstar Charles Leclerc finds himself unceremoniously dumped by his longtime boyfriend, the handsome and successful Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz, his PR team develops the perfect solution to ensure Charles maintain his "pop diva" image: By having him fake date 4-time world champion Max Verstappen who may or may not be Charles's childhood crush.
Charles can't fathom why the handsome and newly single Red Bull driver would even need to engage in a fake relationship . . . but the petty and spiteful part of him can't wait to stick it to Carlos when he's photographed everywhere with a hot new driver.
(And maybe, some tiny little part of Charles just can't stop his heart from fluttering every time those ocean blue eyes look back at him wearing an expression that is frighteningly close to affection.)
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Craning his neck behind them, Daniel laughs his loud, creaky hyena laugh. “Don’t look now, but he’s still watching.”
“Who?”
“Chuck.”
“Chuck. There’s no way he lets you call him that,” Max says, voice rife with disbelief. He also can’t help it—he turns around, jostling Daniel’s arm over his shoulder to look back toward the media pen. Charles is in fact still watching them disappear down the paddock. His head is tilted to one side, a look of consideration on his pretty face. He doesn’t look actively upset, but he doesn’t look particularly happy either. Fuck.
“He doesn’t let me do anything. I just sort of do it and he laughs and blushes and looks at me with his big cow eyes.”
“Big cow eyes,” Max repeats, disbelieving yet again.
“Not actually, but sort of,” Daniel says, grin making his eyes crinkle. What the fuck.
“He’s blushing at you?” Max sounds petulant. Jealous, even. He needs to get a grip.
*
All the rookies love Max. Except for one.
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“You cannot rank us equally,” Charles says, with a head jerk at Max. “Who of the two of us would be the better boyfriend?”
“Why do you care, Charles?” Daniel asks, grinning.
“Well, because it’s obviously me, right?”
An honest-to-God squawk of indignation leaves Max’s lips at this question, the first sound he’s actually made throughout this entire discussion. “What do you mean ‘obviously’?” he demands, sitting forward.
“Well, no offence, mate, but you’re not exactly well-known for your success in dating,” Charles points out.
A low fire ignites behind Max’s eyes as he stares Charles down from across the table, lips pursed. “Just because I do not parade my partners around the paddock for the world to drool over does not mean I have any less success in dating than you, mate.” He bites out the last word like an insult.
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or, 5 times Charles and Max try to prove that they're a better boyfriend than each other, and 1 time they realize they're perfectly matched.
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Max has always liked the idea of soulmates, he's had an outline of Val d'Argenton on his side since he was a child.
It's unfortunate that Charles has one on his side too.
It's unfortunate that Max could never be woman enough for him
---Or---
Max hides his soulmark from everyone, even his soulmate. No matter the consequences.
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Charles hates Max. Max hates Charles. three months in and the dorm already feels like a battlefield. Then Charles’s panties go missing.
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After silly 2024 season there are six rookies on the grid. And everyone, absolutely everyone, falls in love with Charles Leclerc. But this is not some kind of mind-blowing news. As it turns out, everyone has been through this in the past.
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drive on, dreamer (you can't leave her) by champagne_for_breakfast
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
11 Sep 2025
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“If you were stuck in a timeloop, and you knew you had to stop something from happening, what would you do?”
“What 10-questions-to-ask-your-teammate-to-get-to-know-them site did you get that one from?” Lewis laughs, as he moves to pull the balaclava over his head. They have 5 minutes until they have to be ready in the car and admittedly, this moment might not be the best time to ask this kind of question.
“No, I mean it,” Charles insists, lifting his helmet from the stand, but holding it awkwardly in his hands, maintaining eye contact. “If you were stuck, what would you do?”
Lewis places his hand on his shoulder lightly, squeezing once. “We can talk about this after the race, yes?”
There won’t be an after the race, Charles thinks bitterly, but he nods his head anyway. “Yeah,” he agrees, “after the race, sure.”
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or: max crashes, charles deals with it more or less well, and the universe decides to meddle by having charles relive the same day over and over again
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There’s someone standing in his kitchen.
He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.
Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.”
Or: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.
Except, maybe he does.