pilouface
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Charles Leclerc and the Curious Case of Compulsory Heterosexuality by Lady_Something
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
08 Jun 2026
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Summary
“I’m in love with you.”
Well, fuck.
Charles takes a deep breath. He’s let down a lot of people before, but none of them ever meant as much to him as Max does. He thinks he’s always been kind in the past, but as he thinks through all of his I’m sorry, I’m not interested’s and I’m flattered, but I’m not really looking for anything right now’s, he realises that none of it should be said to Max. Max deserves so much better than that.
“Max, I—” He clenches his jaw again, rubbing his sweaty palm against his jean-clad thigh. “You know I’m straight.”
Max nods once. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I feel so fucking stupid.”
//
Max confesses he's in love with Charles.
Charles goes on a journey.
Bookmarked by pointatthevirginguys (pilouface)
08 Jun 2026
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Summary
“Well... whip it out, Verstappen. Let’s go,” Charles said, smirking at him.
Max hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his stretchy shorts and pushed them to the floor, taking his boxers with them. He could feel Charles’ eyes burning into his skin like somebody was holding a lighter to his flesh and willed himself not to blush.
This was fine; everything was fine.
He had his cock out on a Wednesday night in Singapore, but everything was fine.
OR: After a hook-up gone wrong, Charles asks Max to critique his blow-job skills. Neither of them expected to fall in love on their knees, but reality can be... hard to swallow. (The friends with benefits to lovers fic that has haunted me for months.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 97,117
- Chapters:
- 8/10
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- 3,099
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Bookmarked by pointatthevirginguys (pilouface)
03 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
kill me strangle me shove that shit all the way my throat no need for a lighter on a deserted island just pdf document of this fic
could snort it btw
could eat it every meal every day btw -
Tags
Summary
“Lando won.”
Charles’ breath hitches, an uncomfortable knot appearing suddenly in his throat. He didn’t see the celebrations, but he can picture them because they’re what he’d do, he thinks about it all the time, the way he’d be unable to stop smiling and how he’d probably cry and how his family would hold him and his team would sing for him—
“I know.”
Max’s face pulls down, and then the expression is gone.
“You’ve been spiralling about it for months,” Max says. His voice is oddly soft. “Every time we see each other, you are ranting about how unfair it is, that they don’t deserve that car. And now you have nothing to say?”
He hasn’t been spiralling. That’s ridiculous.
“It is what it is.”
//
Lando wins the 2025 WDC. Charles struggles to cope.
Bookmarked by pointatthevirginguys (pilouface)
22 May 2026
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- Words:
- 84,188
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 3
Bookmarked by pointatthevirginguys (pilouface)
15 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
yes yes yes it's about the job being more important than love sometimes author you get ittttt
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Summary
Standing on the porch of his rented apartment, in Florida, is Charles Leclerc.
He looks- well no one’s ever said Charles Leclerc looks bad- but he doesn’t look great. Shadows under his eyes stark against the bright Florida sunshine. Max’s brain snags on the small details; the two-day stubble scattered across his jaw, the carefully unbranded navy t-shirt, similarly bland cap pulled low over his features.
"What-" Max starts, because seriously- what the fuck. Charles cuts him off before he can finish.
"Do you want to drive to Daytona?"
OR: Max and Charles and the Great American Road Trip, inspired by my undying love for racing, driving west, and the corkscrew at Laguna Seca
Bookmarked by pointatthevirginguys (pilouface)
10 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
something something there's only two type of stories one where you come home and one where you go on a road trip something something a stranger comes to town