Driarda
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“Good evening. I’m Charles,” he offers his hand, which Max takes and for a second, Charles thinks he’s going to kiss the back of it. Some muscle spasms in the tight grip, rough velvet against soft skin. When Charles gets his hand back, it feels like he lost a finger or two in the fight.
“What’s your poison, Charles?” Max asks, settling on the barstool like it’s not designed to be the most uncomfortable chair in the world.
“Cyanide, usually. I’ll settle for a gin tonic for now.”
or:
Charles is a supermodel that has learned everything he needs to make his world turn. Now, he has no idea what Max Verstappen wants from him.
Bookmarked by Driarda
22 Feb 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.
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Bookmarked by Driarda
26 Dec 2025
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Charles lets his gaze wander through the apartment, taking in the details with that quiet curiosity Max knows too well. He stops in front of the trophies lined up on a shelf — the replicas of Max’s championships and the original, gleaming in the center. For a second, admiration flickers across Charles’s face. Max knows that look; he knows Charles wants that feeling someday, and part of him can’t blame him.
Charles turns, and Max sees a quiet smile on his face before it fades. “I, um… I received an invitation. From… The Invitation,” he starts, clearing his throat, and Max notices the nervous way his hands fidget.
“Ah, what an original name. Congratulations?” Max offers, barely containing a smirk.
Charles narrows his eyes, exasperation creeping in. “There’s a catch.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“They also invited you.”
Max’s expression morphs into an exaggerated look of shock, complete with wide eyes and raised brows. “Wow, what a shame, then.”
OR: Max and Charles are invited to appear together on a popular podcast. They have a lot to talk about and a lot of tension building up.
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- English
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Bookmarked by Driarda
10 Nov 2025
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Mint Chip Ice Cream (And Other Flavors) by LestappenForever for thearchercore
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
30 Mar 2024
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“I’d like three scoops of vanilla ice cream, please.”
Charles doesn’t even stop what he’s doing. Doesn’t even look at him. “We’re all out of vanilla.”
Max stares. At Charles, then at the almost full tub of vanilla ice cream, with its little sign labeling it as vanilla sticking out of the fluffy ice cream.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Charles, I can see the vanilla ice cream. It’s right there,” Max insists, pointing at the flavor through the display glass. As if Charles isn’t completely aware of its existence, as if he’s not just being a little shit and punishing Max for something that isn’t even remotely his fault.
Charles pauses in his bustling to look at Max. Then, he follows the length of Max’s arm to where his finger is pointing directly at the vanilla. His gaze returns to Max’s eyes as he says, deadpan: “That is only a display ice cream.”
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OR: Charles owns an ice cream shop in Milan, Max is an F1 driver. Their paths cross, and Max finds himself slightly obsessed with more than just the heavenly vanilla ice cream Charles sells.
Bookmarked by Driarda
24 Oct 2025
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[Charles, 23:35]
*Poorly made meme of a trophy with the words ‘worst friend ever’ and ‘Max’ photoshopped on it*[Charles, 23:35]
Good night, loser :)The stupid grin not leaving his face, Max turned to put his phone onto the charger. He groaned but then smiled. Friend.
**
Max and Charles slowly become friends over text. Then they become more. Then it gets messy.
Bookmarked by Driarda
23 Aug 2025