sllumar
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In some ways, Charles wishes he could say that he was overcome by his desire, and that’s what led him here.
He wants to say that his lust was so strong that he didn’t know what he was doing, that it was all an innocent mistake.
The truth is—
“Max, Max , oh, God, right there!”
Max grunts into his neck, breath panting against Charles’ flushed skin as he thrusts faster. Charles’ open palm slams against the door of the carriage, trying to hold his body in place as Max’s movements inch him closer and closer to the wood.
“Fuck, Charlie, wanted you like this for so long, fuck , feels so good, baby.”
—the truth is, Charles knew exactly what he was doing.
Or:
With his family's fortune dwindling, Charles has been tasked with marrying a wealthy alpha. He's found that in Carlos, a kind Viscount who has promised to care for the Leclercs once they're married.
But then Charles' childhood friend, Max, returns to London, set on finding an omega to marry.
Except Max isn't looking for just any omega. He's looking for Charles.
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by sllumar
18 Oct 2025
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Charles stared at the Discord popup like it had cursed at him randomly.
He clicked, and answered the call.
“Hey.”
The voice came through clear, rich, and far too smooth for someone who had just LMFAO in a casual conversation. It was low, slightly raspy, and tinged with an accent that Charles couldn’t immediately place but sounded… Dutch? Belgian? European chaos?
“Can you hear me?” SuperMax asked again.
Charles forgot how to breathe for half a second. He made a strange sound in the back of his throat. Something between a cough and a nervous bonjour .
“Yes,” he managed, voice cracking like a haunted violin. “Yes. Loud and clear.”
“Cool,” SuperMax replied. “Screen share when you’re ready, Lecloof.”
OR:
Charles hired a Valorant coach to fix his aim. Not develop a crush on the Dutch guy roasting his mouse grip.
Now he's flustered by hand cams, ignoring his situationship, and maybe falling for the voice in his headset.
Bookmarked by sllumar
10 Oct 2025
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Charles had been drifting in and out of the conversation for what felt like hours, his mind hazy and disoriented. The music thudded around him, vibrating through the floor and up into his bones, and all he could catch were fragments of Lando’s animated chatter. Something about the last race, or maybe plans for the weekend—it all blurred together. He blinked, trying to focus on Lando’s voice as it grew sharper, the background noise fading slightly. Lando was in front of him, gesturing wildly, while Oscar stood by his side, nodding along with an easy smile.
Bookmarked by sllumar
25 Aug 2025
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Max decides to not shave or cut his hair after the Silverstone GP.
Charles struggles to cope.Bookmarked by sllumar
24 Jul 2025
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‘hi,’ he says, reaching his hand out to charles, ‘i’m special agent verstappen, you must be mr. leclerc?’ and charles thinks he listens, but he doesn't seem to understand.
because charles is too busy staring at his lips to understand and process anything being said. his lips - they should be illegal. so pink, and plump, and perfect. they’re adorned by a light grazing of hair in his moustache and beard. there’s a light freckle on the edge of his lip and charles has to physically restrain himself from surging up to try and kiss it.
okay, maybe charles is a little more out of it than he thought.
alternatively,
charles accidentally gets involved with an art theft case and max happens to be the agent investigating it. they fall in love.Bookmarked by sllumar
24 Jul 2025