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- Formula 1 RPF (3)
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Summary
The blond closed the door behind him and walked slowly towards Charles, as if he was chasing a prey.
“Charlie, why aren't you dressed?” Max stood next to him, blue eyes burning the side of his face.
“Have you ever thought about why I asked you to be my best man?” Charles replied, still not looking at him.
or;
Charles is about to get married and Max is his best man.
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“Lando how do you feel about Oscar Piastri? Are the rumours about him opening on the next tour true?” the journalist was sweet, he thought, but Oscar’s name made his blood boil.
“I don’t know, is he? He seems like a boring Barbie to me,” before he could continue, Daniel grabbed him by the shoulders and moved his body.
or;
Oscar releases a disstrack about Lando a week before the tour.
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He walked through the paddock like a mad man, knowing he needed to release that anger and yell at somebody, anyone.
So he decided the best idea was to walk towards Charles' driver's room.
or;
Max is angry about his DNF and Charles knows how to handle him.
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Summary
"What did you just say?" Max asks in a flat voice and Charles gives him a strained smile.
"I might have accidentally told my mom that I have a boyfriend and now she's demanding that I bring you home with me for the New Year. Actually, she said Christmas and New Year, but I told her that you were spending Christmas with your own family..."
Bookmarked by simplycharles
24 Dec 2025
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Summary
Max’s job fired him, his rent has been upped, he’s about a cough away from being homeless and desperate for any job willing to hire.
Who cares if the circumstances are odd and strange things keep happening, at least the boss is hot.
—or—
Mafia Restaurant fic where Max gets a new job, sometimes shit goes down and Charles isn’t particularly happy about it.Series
- Part 1 of Rcch Verse
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 126,632
- Chapters:
- 24/24
- Comments:
- 1,468
- Kudos:
- 2,353
- Bookmarks:
- 473
- Hits:
- 86,878
Bookmarked by simplycharles
02 Dec 2025
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Summary
“I can’t-” Charles pants, on the edge of hyperventilating again. He snatches his hand away from Max's throat. “I won’t choke you, you cannot ask that of me. I can’t do that to you, Max, I just can’t.”
Oh.
“That’s not what it is,” Max says, quick and desperate to not fuck this up. “I don’t want that, I just need-”
Jesus, how does he explain all this, how does he put it into words?
“I just want to fall apart for somebody,” he finally says, breath coming fast as he trembles.
Max just wants intimacy. He's distrustful and self-protective, but god, he just wants to let himself open up and exist safely in someone else's hands.
Series
- Part 7 of lestappen sundays (fic collection)
- Part 1 of settling in (connected stories)
Bookmarked by simplycharles
19 Oct 2025
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Summary
He stops dead at the picture of Charles, shooting upright on the lounge, dislodging Sassy in the process. She hisses loudly at him and darts off, but Max isn’t concerned with that.
Because Charles fucking Leclerc has cut his hair off.
The photo is just a fan picture of Charles in a suit at a gala of some variety—an unimportant detail—and he looks great in the suit, crisp and blue, a black turtleneck underneath. Handsome, one might objectively describe it as. Sexy, a girl, gay, or Italian man would say. Not Max, of course, because he’s above that, but. Somebody else might describe it that way.
The sides are just gone, shaved short and gone. The top is still as long and fluffy as ever, styled very nicely but the sides.
The sides, Max laments.
He looks stupid. It’s terrible. Max hates it with a fiery, visceral passion. He knows there is no way Pascale Leclerc did that to her son. She would have stopped him from looking like some kind of dapper, handsome—
She would have stopped it, is the point.
Maybe it’s just the lighting, Max reasons frantically.
// Charles gets a haircut. Max has a meltdown.
Bookmarked by simplycharles
18 Oct 2025
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- Words:
- 37,198
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 15
Bookmarked by simplycharles
16 Oct 2025

