my favorite verse of yours is 100% sharkstappen and i was working on a prep for legal cases for class and one of the cases was a shark that got killed due to an oil spill caused by a oil company negligence and i got distracted thinking about how devastated charles would be i completely lost my thought process for what i was going to argue.
i will fight for you sharkstappen i will avenge you (the cases are fictional no sharkstappen was harmed in the process of this except for the one in my head)
sharkstappen to me would definitely one day be swimming around his cave with charles and see a plastic bag or sth in the water and spearhead an entire organization for ocean cleanup and he would succeed. all his and charlie children may be safe in the aquarium but hes not taking any chances that one of his children might die from sth as stupid as microplastics.
i miss sharkstappen sorry for the rambling im still devastated
I didn't even give you that angst you managed to entirely self-inflict it
media scrambling as max and charles become very loud ocean activists... what does it mean...
the Lion's Share Organization is (an entirely fictional and just now made up) an organization spearheaded by formula 1 world champion max verstappen, with a focus on clearing pollutants in the ocean, protecting coral reefs and local species, and also runs a large scale aquarium for marine life rehab and long term care (their kids). max verstappen is joined by fellow racers in sponsoring ocean cleanup efforts. slogan is probably something stupidly corny like "simply clear: lion's share oceanic cleanup"
just imagine the walk of shame as I bring you all this fic, please and thank you. 6.6k of the tentacle verse I clearly said I would not be revisiting. if you aren't caught up, this verse was born during the smut prompts of February, and you can probably guess what the prompt was! this has also been referred to as the sea creature charles au. part one, part two.
helllooooo this is explicit! there's a chunk in the beginning, and then I got lost in the sauce for worldbuilding, and then back to being explicit near the end.
pairings: charles leclerc/max verstappen
relevant heads up: literally everything from the first two fics, a dash of body horror, uh, biting in a violent way, and sharkstappen. questionable dietary habits when you think too hard about it.
Charles has been a massive dick the entire season, and Max is over it. He doesn't want anything to do with him, even though Charles keeps shooting him quick glances at the drivers dinner. He's been trying to get a moment alone with Max for weeks, but Max isn't interested.
He's going to sleep for a week, eat junk food, maybe go clubbing with Daniel, and play video games. It's his entire plan for the break, and nowhere in it does he have Charles.
Charles tries to corner him after dinner anyways, frowning as he boxes Max in a hallway corner as everyone is leaving.
"Max, can we talk? Please? I know you are upset with me, and I want to fix that-"
"You did not seem interested in fixing it during the season."
Max isn't interested in what Charles has to say- wants this conversation to be over with already.
Charles presses his lips together, eyebrows furrowed.
"I know, and I'm sorry, but even if I could just see you over break? Get lunch?"
Whatever gets him off of Max's back.
"Sure."
Max doesn't mean it- has no intention of actually following through, but Charles seems relieved, shoulders relaxing as he gives Max an apologetic grin.
"Thank you."
------
Max has come up with an excuse the last three times Charles had reached out to him, but he really does mean it this time- he's not feeling well.
He's dizzy constantly, thirsty and weak. He has no idea what's wrong with him, and no combination of over the counter medications have been able to get rid of the ache in his gut, settled just behind his stomach.
He feels like shit.
He's been chugging water down, but it's not enough, and everything feels too bright and too dry- he's going insane.
Max had been meaning to wait it out, let it get better naturally, but it's only getting worse now, and he's not even sure what it is- just knows he needs something.
He's half delirious in his bed, tangled in his sheets. It's dry, so dry he feels sick with it, and he needs some kind of solution.
Going down to the harbor when he feels like this is out of the question, so he's stumbling over to the sunken bathtub, cranking the faucet on and letting it fill.
It takes forever.
When it's finally filled to the brim, water splashing over the edges, Max sinks down into it, groaning as he settles.
It's marginally better- he doesn't feel like he's going to crack apart at the edges anymore, body finally starting to relax. It's not helping anything else though, his head still spins, and he still has a desperate ache inside of him, but it's enough for him to lean his head against the rim of the tub, eyes fluttering closed.
------
Max wakes up when the water has gone cold, manages to fight through the haze to drain the tub, filling it back up with warm water. He's hungry- has no idea when he last ate- but there's no way he leaves the tub, not when it's the only thing that's helped.
His fingers are shaking when he turns the faucet off, head thunking against the side of the tub again. He knows something is wrong- really wrong- but he's spiraled too far to do anything about it- his phone is in the other room. He has no idea how long he's been in the water.
His eyes drift shut again, and he starts accepting that this is somehow his fate. 'Formula 1 Champion Max Verstappen Found Dead in Bathtub!' isn't quite the end he'd been hoping for.
------
"-ax. Idiot."
There's something....
Max groans, slowly waking up. There's something in his mouth, stretching his lips wide and filling his throat, slick and strong. It's satisfying the thirst that water hadn't, thick and viscous inside of him.
He shifts and realizes there's something between his legs as well, coiling up further and further- he's so full, feels so much better than the ache of before.
His throat is stretched too wide for him to swallow, but he doesn't need to, eyes blinking up to hazily stare at his savior.
Charles is cramped into the bathtub with him, looking equal parts concerned and annoyed.
"Good morning, you stupid, petty brooder."
Max makes a muffled noise. Charles is... Charles is good, he takes care of Max, he'll make it better.
Charles sighs, and then Max is being pressed tight to his chest, sharp teeth scraping his nose as he leans down to kiss him.
"You see how dumb you were being now? You are changing, Max. You have cycles now too, and ignoring them- ignoring me- is only going to hurt you."
Max isn't quite following. He's feeling so much better now- his needs are met, and he kind of wants to get fucked.
Really wants to get fucked.
It must be apparent to Charles, who looks annoyed with him.
"I am not giving you a clutch in your bathtub, Max. We are going back to the cave, and I am going to breed you properly. We're behind schedule now anyways, since you wanted to be so fucking stubborn. You'll still be carrying a week before testing starts."
Sure, whatever Charles wants. Whatever gets Max more of this, feeling better than he has in days.
------
Max is draped across Charles' lap, tentacles working their way across his body. His eyes roll back into his head as the one in his ass pushes further into him, thicker than what he's used to.
He's pretty sure Charles has given him the actual clutch already- he feels full even in the rare moments there aren't tentacles inside of him. That doesn't stop him from moaning around the one in his throat as they squeeze tighter around him, holding him in place.
He vaguely remembers the prior years, but they hadn't been as... intense, as this year. Max has never needed it like this before- he can barely stand to have the tentacles out of him, pressed close to Charles constantly.
Charles has one of his hands pressing on Max's spine, pushing him further down as Max tries to squirm.
"If you had not been ridiculous earlier this would not have been so bad, Max. But no, you wanted to be petty and wait, and it's messed with your head, yes? You need more?"
Max wants more. He wants more bad, trying to push his hips back up into Charles' hand even as the tentacle inside of him swells, pushing inside of him into sweet spots he didn't know he had.
It's still not enough, he wants-
He wants another clutch, body desperately trying to accommodate for it, starting to wiggle in Charles' lap.
Charles makes a low noise, apprehensive.
"Max, if I give you more it's going to be a lot, yes?"
Max doesn't care, just needs to be full, needs to settle the empty ache he's feeling.
"Okay. Hold still for me."
The tentacles around him tighten, holding him down as the one inside of him starts to rhythmically swell and compress, and then Max can feel it-
It's not like with the clutch, where there's a full pressure. It's a hot swell inside of him, heavy and viscous, more liquid than anything. Max finally falls still as it seeps inside of him, weighing him down.
There's a moment where it feels perfect, exactly what he needed, but then it keeps going, pushes into being too much- Max wants to struggle, but it's pushing him down, making him feel like he's made of lead.
Charles coos softly at him even as Max tries to whine against the tentacle in his mouth, because it's starting to hurt.
"There you go, yes, that was a full brooder drop. I did not think you were ready for that yet."
Max doesn't think he was ready either. It's too much inside of him, overwhelming everything else he could possibly feel. Charles' fingers brush over his cheek as the tentacles start withdrawing.
"Good job, Max. Perfect brooder for me, even if you made things difficult for us both."
There's a soft kiss to the side of Max's face.
"You had me very worried, when you wouldn't respond. You need this just as bad as I do now, but you don't remember, so you have to trust me, yes? Even when you are upset."
Max is barely following- gives a raspy noise that hopefully passes for confirmation. Charles nips lightly at him, teeth pricking into his skin.
"You're going to need extra food now- that is a big one."
The tentacles are lifting Max out of Charles' lap, and he groans at the feeling of everything shifting inside of him.
"Shh, it's alright, I'm just putting you back in the water."
Whatever Charles wants. Max is too exhausted to offer any input.
------
Max blinks awake to the sound of splashing, eyes cracking open. Charles must be back with food, although he's usually a bit quieter coming into the cave.
He freezes, breath catching in his throat, heard pounding.
There's someone else looking at him, settling along the rocks across from Max's ledge. It's a complete stranger, large orange tentacles dragging against the stone. They remind Max of an octopus, suckers decorating the underside of them.
He isn't breathing.
The man is leering at him, leaning forward.
"Hello breeder. You're new here, aren't you?"
Max scowls, even as he shrinks back further onto his ledge.
The man just moves closer, tentacles starting to drop into the water, drifting in Max's direction.
Max clenches his jaw, eyes narrowed.
"Get out."
"Oh?"
The man stops moving, eyeing Max.
"Isn't that cute. What exactly are you going to do, brooder? You're barely turning, and everyone knows that's the best stage. You're all so...
There's a tentacle trying to wrap around his ankle, and Max yanks his foot back- but the suckers cling, stretching his leg out in front of him instead.
"...Vulnerable."
Max's breathing picks up. He's in danger, real danger here- someone has come into their cave, and Charles isn't here, and Max is going to-
"You smell wonderful too. Young, well bred-"
Max feels more tentacles starting to slide across him. They're nothing like Charles, none of the smooth slide that he's used to. He's trembling.
"-scared."
He's running out of options- not that he had many to begin with- and Max swallows, curling his lip up in a futile threat.
The man just laughs softly, and then his eyes narrow-
Max is plunged underwater with him, breath leaving his lungs as his eyes fly open. They're going deep, by where the cave entrance is, and Max panics. He's pretty sure the man is an octopus, and he's pretty sure they're somewhat cannibalistic, and he's not fucking dying here.
He doesn't even think about it when he sees the tentacle heading for his neck- just lunges forward, mouth open as water rushes in, before he gets his teeth on the tentacle and bites.
It's hard and rubbery, thrashing in his mouth, but Max digs deeper- something in the taste is lighting up his brain, adding to the anger.
Max is better than him. It doesn't fucking matter that he's somehow ended up with a life where he spends some of his year fucked full with eggs- he's not some kind of cowering incubator.
If this man is stupid enough to come after Max-
He'll kill him.
The tentacle in his mouth flails wildly as Max digs his teeth deeper, and then it snaps, bursting in Max's mouth as he spits it out. He's furious.
A stranger, in their cave, coming after Max, when he has eggs-
The man looks angry, but there's not currently any tentacles on Max- he's withdrawn them all around his body, nursing the bitten one.
The water is bloody around them.
Max lowers his head, still watching him. He's floating in the water, but he looks like a threat now. He doesn't care if he has to go one by one- the man can either leave now, or he can leave in pieces.
He snarls at Max, but his body language isn't aggressive anymore, and he's slinking towards the cave entrance.
Max won't relax until he's gone, but at least he's leaving.
Which is of course when Charles comes in.
It's fast- Max can't really keep track of it, just knows there's a blur of dark blue and bright orange, and then Charles is slamming the man against the rock walls of the cave, biting a chunk out of his throat.
It should make Max sick. There's no possible way the man is alive, not with the way he looks when Charles lets go of him, using a dark blue tentacle to push the body outside.
The only thing Max feels is satisfaction. Charles came back and protected them.
Charles' eyes are wide when he sees Max underwater, and then he's being yanked to the surface, laid out in Charles' lap as worried hands stroke over his face, smooth tentacles gingerly wrapping around him.
"Max, Max can you breathe? How much water did you- Max, baby, please-"
Charles looks two seconds from CPR, and Max lifts a hand to bat at him. He's fine.
He tries to open his mouth to say that, but there's a weird whistling noise when he inhales, and Charles' eyes widen in surprise.
"Oh- Oh, Max! That is amazing, you have-"
Max has fucking gills.
------
Charles brings them both back to the surface.
"You were using them fine when I came in, why can't you use them anymore?"
Max is scowling.
"Because I am not supposed to breathe underwater, Charles. I am a human person- not whatever weird fish shit you have going on."
Charles furrows his brows.
There's still flecks of blood on his face.
"But you are? You are a brooder, Max. Yes, you are turning faster than I thought you would, but you're still turning. Which is what I expected? We talked about this."
What.
"No? No, Charles, we definitely didn't- you said something about the chemicals messing with my memories. There was not any discussion of gills."
Max pauses.
"And I sort of thought when you were calling me a brooder it was-"
He makes a face, because he thinks about bringing it up every year, but by the time he remembers, it's always right before he forgets.
"-it was derogatory or something. Like calling your partner a slut."
Charles raises an eyebrow at him.
"And you were okay with that?"
Max tosses his hands up, frustrated. There's a complicated swell of emotions inside of him, and they're getting harder to suppress, thick behind his throat.
"I was more concerned about the egg thing, Charles!"
Charles is resettling Max where they're floating in the water, tentacles brushing soothingly across his skin. Max blinks rapidly.
"I did not explain it very well, Max. I'm sorry, it is also just that-"
Charles huffs, and his gills flare on the side of his neck. Max had never really noticed them before- Charles takes care to keep them closed above water.
"We only take one brooder in our lifetimes? And you obviously are the first I have had, and I don't exactly- I mean, Lolo has told me some about what his partner went through, but obviously these things are different."
Max blinks, digesting Charles' words. Processes.
His eye twitches.
"You don't know?"
Charles winces.
"Not really."
Max can't tell if he wants to scream or cry, and instead a slightly hysterical laugh bubbles out of his lips.
The tentacle thing- manageable, if Max doesn't think too hard about it.
The egg thing- a little harder to deal with, but Max can compartmentalize.
The gills? His entire body turning into something different, something he has no control over? Something even Charles doesn't understand? He has no idea how to handle that.
"So, what? I'm going to go full fish person? Did you-"
Max cuts himself off, doubling over in laughter, even though it isn't very funny at all.
"Did you turn me into a fucking mermaid, Leclerc?"
"Max-"
Charles sounds concerned, hands trying to settle on Max's waist, but Max twists away. He can't tell if he wants to smash Charles' head against a rock, or his own.
"I mean- what the fuck? Genuinely, what the fuck? How do I even- How am I supposed to handle this, huh? Do you know? Did you think about that before you yanked me off the beach?"
Max is feels like he's going off the rails, hands flying as he speaks, voice getting higher as his eyes get worryingly wet.
"Where, at any point, was I even asked?"
Charles flinches.
Max isn't done.
"Nowhere! Absolutely nowhere! No one ever went 'hey Max, do you want to be a fish person for the rest of your life?' because the answer would have been no!"
His chest is heaving, eyes darting around the cave wildly.
"And now- and now every year, I have these fucking eggs, and they are- they are mine, and we fucking abandon them. I did not want to be a parent, but I refuse to be that kind of parent. I don't care that it's 'nature', Charles, it's not me!"
Charles looks at though Max has stabbed him, hands helplessly reaching for him even as Max shifts away.
"On top of it all, I am turning into a fucking mermaid!"
His words are shaky, and he's trembling. He wants to curl up, to protect the eggs. He doesn't know if that's Max Brain or Fish Brain- is there even a difference?
He wants to cry.
He wants to punch Charles in the face.
Charles is keeping his distance, giving Max the space he's asked for, even though it looks like it's physically paining him.
"Max-"
Max bursts into tears, curling up on his stupid rock ledge, wanting Charles near him, despite the fact that the whole thing is his fault.
There's a brush of a tentacle against him, and when Max doesn't shove him away, Charles cautiously drifts closer, pulling him into his chest.
"I hate you."
The tentacles are wrapping around him, cocooning him in the safety that is Charles.
"I'm sorry, Max."
It doesn't fix anything.
------
Max refuses to try and breathe underwater with Charles around. He's refusing to do much anything with Charles, which is extremely distressing for both him and probably also the eggs.
He feels terrible for the eggs- but he can't bring himself to get over it.
Charles is out hunting again, even though Max is on a self imposed hunger strike since early morning.
He slides carefully off the rock ledge back underwater. It's definitely a mental block- telling himself that it's okay to open his mouth and inhale water isn't going over well with the reasonable side of him.
He grits his teeth and tries anyways.
The first rush of saltwater is the worst, stinging his nose and the back of his throat, and he's expecting to choke, prepared for it-
He takes an even breath.
And then another.
Slowly, he starts to relax, carefully letting go of the rock ledge, where his fingers have had a death grip on the stone.
He kicks his legs, floating in the water as he adjusts. It feels like his regular breathing, just-
Through his neck.
This is fine.
Max tries to push his leg at the side of the wall to push off further into the water, but a shooting pain rips through his hip, and he immediately brings both legs up to his chest, hissing.
He gingerly tries to extend his leg to the side again, but there's a stiffness to his hips- they just won't work with him.
It's not a reason to panic. It's probably just a weird muscle cramp.
A really weird muscle cramp, on both sides.
Or maybe the fucking octopus tentacle he'd bitten off yesterday had a slow acting poison in it and he's dying.
He kind of wants Charles to come back, even if he's mad at him, because his legs aren't working, and he's about to start freaking out.
Max twists his core, scrunching up to push off the wall with both feet backwards, swimming back to the surface until his fingers are gripping his rock ledge again.
He pokes the top of his head out of water, blinking his eyes to adjust back to the dim light of the cave. He's still breathing through the gills, which is not any less weird than it was the first time.
There's a stack of fish near the edge- Charles has been in and out all day, trying to find something enticing enough for Max to break his hunger strike.
Max has been holding out on principle, but Charles still isn't back, so he drifts closer, picking through the pile.
It really is a good haul- fat fish, plenty of protein. Max isn't entirely sure what he's looking for, but he knows what he's not, so he carefully picks through the pile, discarding fish at random.
There's a particularly large trout near the bottom of the pile, and Max inspects it carefully before deciding he wants it.
There's just one problem- his ledge is back to his left, and his legs aren't doing him a whole lot of favors- he needs his hands.
Can't swim with both hands if he's holding a giant trout in one.
His eye twitches. Charles is never finding out about this.
Max sighs heavily, cringing as he lifts the trout, the slick scales against his teeth and tongue, gripping it between his teeth as he pushes back for the ledge, spitting it out onto the rock as soon as he arrives.
Disgusting.
Problem number two-
Charles has always deboned Max's fish. Max has no idea how to do it on his own.
He pokes at the slimy scales for a moment, trying to remember how Charles does it.
Except Charles is some kind of squid person, with freakishly sharp nails and lifetime of experience behind him, and Max has... none of those qualities.
Well.
He's got the gills now, but that isn't exactly helping him.
Does he just...?
Max grips one fin of the trout in one hand, holding the rest of the body with the other.
He gags, and then he rips.
It tears easier than he'd expected, and he's not near as disgusted by the metallic tang of blood as he should be.
He's not really sure where to go from here.
There's exposed meat now, but does he just... rip it out?
Max has not been appreciating Charles' fish filleting skills properly. He really doesn't want to rip chunks out, but-
He's hungry, and he's upset, and there's enough things going wrong in his life- the last thing he needs to do is accidentally fuck up the eggs any worse than he already has.
His eyes dart down to the water again, making sure there's no sign of Charles.
He lifts the fish in his hands, noise wrinkling, and bites.
------
Charles had to fight for his life to get this fucking tuna- if Max doesn't eat it, he's going to lose it.
He's dragging it behind him on the way back to the cave. He would've been more worried about leaving Max undefended, but letting an octopus hybrid corpse float up for scavengers is a pretty clear statement.
Admittedly, he hadn't expected Max to bite a tentacle off- he's both impressed and slightly disturbed.
Brooders- human ones anyways- most often turn into relatively peaceful hybrids. Certainly not the kind of hybrids willing to sink their teeth into an octopus.
Then again-
This is Max.
Charles feels his stomach roll with worry as he gets closer to the cave. Max has been furious since the discussion about the turning, and Charles...
He can't blame him. Max has valid points, a genuine reason to be angry. At the same time- his brooder has eggs, and the stress is bad enough- getting into a fight and going on a self imposed hunger strike isn't going to help anyone.
If Max doesn't like the tuna, Charles is going to have to settle him down and force feed him. Also something he doesn't want to do.
This whole breeding season has been a mess- Charles upset Max during the racing season, and then had to break into Max's flat, only to find his brooder a heatsick disoriented mess in the bathtub, and now Max is mad again.
His nose twitches as he swims through the entrance- there's a faint tang of blood in the water. Not Max's, thankfully. Charles focuses, dimming his bioluminescence and sinking to the bottom of the floor, carefully looking around.
There's a few fish bones that have sunken down to the sand- fresh ones. He gingerly lifts one, turning it over in his hands. It's decently large, tiny little nicks and chips in it.
If he didn't know any better, he'd say it looks like the feeding marks from a predator species- sharks and eels, the kind of hybrid species that Charles keeps his fair distance from.
They're not particularly opposed to hunting other hybrids, and Charles is strong- but he's not at their level.
He's grateful that the Mediterranean is warmer waters- they don't have to deal with some of the larger species, or the worst case scenario- orcas.
Still.
He lets the bone drop back into the sand, carefully swimming up to the surface. Ideally, Max would be more comfortable using his gills, and Charles could bring him to their actual nesting site, but his stubborn brooder refuses to try again.
Except-
Max is curled into a tight ball on his ledge, completely submerged. He's also deeply asleep, gills flaring softly with each exhale.
Charles is quiet as he brings the tuna over to the pile that's started to amass on the edge of the pool, but he's pleasantly surprised to find it in disarray.
Max has been in here, and Charles' trout he'd brought back a few hours ago- an impressive catch- is missing. He sets the tuna on the pile, eyes flicking over to the dry stone near Max's ledge.
There's a small pile of bones, and a splattered bloodstain.
Huh.
Charles... didn't think Max would have been willing to do that. He's been deboning all the fish for him, slicing them into little bite sized chunks for his brooder.
But now- it looks like Max had just torn into it.
So much for a hunger strike.
He drifts closer, brushing one hand against the side of Max's face. He has his legs curled up tight to him, although he's grimacing, even in his sleep.
Lolo had said his brooder went through the actual changes rapidly, once they started- a painful few days before she'd finally settled, coherent and also a beautiful flying fish hybrid.
Charles had been slightly jealous of the extravagant fins.
Max must be starting his physical change now, which means Charles can get them both to the real den, further underwater but closer to Monaco.
Now that Max is breathing through his gills, Charles thinks it's time- and he's been carefully working on their space, getting it ready for Max. It's larger than their current one, and it's more secure, solidly within old family territory.
There's a separate brooding space for Max, interconnected by tunnel inside the den, artfully arranged to be as ideal as possible. There's a sunken basin for fish storage, soft kelp weavings across the room, and the space itself is all smooth rock.
There's optional lighting, delicately brought in from above ground, but Charles has found that Max prefers being in the dark while he's being bred.
The rest of the den system is cozy- a sleeping space with a deep layer of sand for sleeping, and a coral structure to wrap around and rest on.
Charles will make more edits to it as he and Max settle, but as far as starter dens- it's acceptable. Max can nest in the brooders den while he turns.
He's a bit worried about this seasons eggs. Turning is going to take everything out of Max, and the stress that's been present throughout the entire ordeal can't possibly have helped. There's a chance Max has reabsorbed any possible nutrients for his own survival.
He carefully lifts Max in his arms, and uses a few stray tentacles to grab the rest of the fish.
Max shifts, face scrunching as he turns closer into Charles' chest. He's starting to produce the viscous gel over his legs and hips- so he's not a tentacle hybrid.
Charles is fairly confident that the gel will start to solidify into the structure of Max's tail, and when he starts to see scale growth is when he'll know Max is almost done.
His brooder is... probably going to want to kill him.
Charles definitely hadn't discussed the tail thing with him, but- he hadn't expected it to start with Max only three years in.
He's deliberately ignoring the glaringly obvious problem of racing. He and Max will figure it out when they get there.
------
Max feels terrible when he wakes up. His entire body aches, and everything is blurry when he blinks, like he's looking underwater.
He realizes a moment later that it's because he is.
He's completely submerged in a new cave, resting on the sand underneath him in a curved basin. There's tentacles draped across him, and Charles looks like he's also asleep a few feet away, half buried into the sand.
Max slowly stretches, arms in front of him as he pops his head above water, but when he goes to move his legs, they don't respond the way he's expects them to.
His head snaps down to look, but his entire lower half is covered in tentacles.
Max reaches to try and push at them, see what's going on, but the movement wakes up Charles, who looks almost-
Scared.
"Max, you're awake."
Max narrows his eyes. Trying to sit up feels weird too, and the tentacles just tighten further around his legs, making it impossible to see.
"Where the hell are we?"
Charles is fidgeting with his fingers, a nervous habit from when they were younger.
"We are in the actual den, now that you can breathe underwater. It's safer, and it is closer to Monte-Carlo also."
Max likes the sound of being closer to his actual flat, back at home, but he's got an equally pressing concern, and there's a bad feeling rising in his gut, twisting and turning inside of him.
"What are you not telling me, Charles?"
Charles winces, tentacles squeezing around Max.
"Remember our conversation about the turning thing?"
Max's heart drops to his stomach.
"No."
"Max-"
"No-"
He yanks away from Charles- his legs won't work with him, abdomen twisting weirdly as he turns, and when he's finally pulled away, hissing at Charles-
His legs are gone.
It's just- it doesn't even feel real. It can't possibly be real, the way Max transitions from smooth human skin to a rough, sandpapery texture.
The tail goes further than his feet had, and it's the same color as his skin, but there's an assortment of dark brown speckles and dots, extending from his ribs all the way down the tail.
There's a few fins, but they're not the frilly kind- they're rigid, clearly defined triangular shapes.
It's a prank. It has to be- some kind of prank, or a nightmare, or an awful drug trip.
It moves when Max moves.
The noise that comes out of him is strangled, high pitched and distressed, because he's-
His head whips back around at Charles.
"Fix it."
Charles winces again, shrinking back from him.
"I can't, Max, you have to learn to shed it normally-"
"Fix it!"
Max cannot be a fish person. Not only does he not want to be a fish person, he doesn't have the time for it, and it's not like he can drive when he has no legs.
Charles at least looks mournful and apologetic, for all the good it's doing him, carefully keeping his distance.
"Max..."
Max is a fish.
Max can't drive.
Max has a tail, because three years ago Charles decided to snatch him off a beach, fuck him full of eggs, and then kept doing it.
He's worryingly close to another breakdown, and he's already cried into Charles' arms about the whole thing, which leaves him with the other emotional extreme- and he's more partial to this one anyways.
"Leclerc."
Charles twitches.
"Max."
Max locks eyes with him, tries to make it as clear as possible that in this moment, he really does mean it-
"I am going to kill you."
Charles' eyes widen, and then he's bolting out of the space, a dark blue blur. Max doesn't waste any time, launching after him.
The tail feels like an extension of him, and he hits a few corners at first, scraping his skin on stone and coral in the unfamiliar cave system, but Charles is getting away, so he keeps going.
Once they're out of the cave in open water things get easier- Max moves fast with the tail, feels the adrenaline rush that he's always craving, eyes searching for where Charles has hidden himself.
There's a large kelp forest nearby, and Max feels a grin stretch across his lips.
Charles is in there somewhere.
He leisurely lounges around the edges of it, watching sharply for any movement. There's so many smells- but he's pinpointing on a specific one, a combination of Charles and something else that makes his mouth water.
It reminds him of their octopus intruder, the way the tentacle had burst in his mouth, chewy flesh under his teeth.
He takes another inhale, drifting down closer to the seafloor. He doesn't know much about squids, but he's pretty sure they like to hide in the sand.
There's a few moments where he doesn't see anything, and then he locks eyes with a familiar green shade, staring right back at him.
Charles' pupils are huge, fearful and wide as he looks at Max.
It's not terribly dissimilar to how Max had felt when he was first yanked off the beach, terrified and feeling distinctly like prey.
He winks at Charles, before swimming a few feet back.
He's not actually going to take a bite out of Charles- even if the idea makes his mouth water, his brain is also screaming at him not to do it. Seeing the look in Charles' eyes when he'd realized Max had seen him- that's satisfying enough on its own.
He opens his mouth, intending to speak, but all that comes out is a low warble. Charles carefully unearths from under the sand, but he moves painstakingly slow to the edge of the kelp forest, ready to bolt again at any moment.
Max rolls his eyes, following his nose to backtrack the scents back into the cave system they'd come out of. He wants to talk to Charles about this.
It's a good thing the tail feels like second nature, because if Max was dead in the water on top of everything else, he might've genuinely taken a chunk out of Charles.
He makes his way back into the first cave he'd woken up in, settling with his head above water.
It takes a few more minutes for Charles to slink in, staying tight to the walls as he eyes Max.
Max sighs.
"I think I am weaker now than I was before, I'm not sure what has you so freaked out."
Charles makes a weird squeaking noise, still watching Max intently, practically pasted against the opposite wall.
"You are- uh, you are a shark, Max."
Huh.
Max looks back down at the tail- not his tail, but the tail-
Nope. Still not real.
He furrows his eyebrows, head jerking back up to meet Charles' eyes as he remembers.
"Charles, the egg-"
Charles winces, worrying at his fingers.
"You absorbed it."
"I what?"
Max's voice goes high and hysterical, one hand pressing to the flat of his stomach.
"You needed the extra nutrients and support, and the turning process is much longer than the actual turn, so really,"
Charles is looking apologetically at him.
"They most likely did not even fertilize."
Max's head is spinning. He has a tail. He doesn't have eggs. He doesn't-
"I'm not doing this."
Charles tilts his head to side.
"I'm not sure...?"
Max throws his arms out, tail splashing unhappily.
"This, the fucking- the fish thing, the egg thing, everything. I want to go back."
"Max, you can't."
The words trip in Max's brain, rattle over everything else because he hates it and it's true.
His entire life has been people dictating what he can and can't do, and now that's extended to his body, his entire being-
He launches forward at Charles. He isn't sure what he wants, just knows he's upset and angry and it's Charles' fault.
"Shit-"
Charles is wrestling him below the water, and Max is snapping at him, gulping in mouthfuls of water as he thrashes.
There are tentacles sliding around him, and he swears he sees Charles mouth sorry at him before Max is being yanked into place, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder, deeper than Charles has ever bitten before.
He shouts, air bubbles moving towards the surface as the water tints red around them, blood- Max's blood- starting to surround them.
The tentacles around him are squeezing and sliding, and Max hates how it has him relaxing in their grip, hips twitching.
Having sex is not going to make him any less angry, even as he feels Charles lapping at the bite mark he's left behind, and a small tentacle is curling around Max's neck.
Something presses between Max's legs, a weird sensation with the tail, sending lightning bolts of pleasure through him- it feels like Charles is pressing on his prostate, but there's not even anything inside of him.
He jerks in the tentacles grip, eyes rolling back in his head as Charles does it again, and again, and then there's a tentacle sliding inside of him, and Max is moaning, spasming as it pushes deeper.
It's nothing like getting fucked- everything is so much, and he's already losing himself to it, tentacles coiled around his skin as Charles fucks a tentacle smoothly into him.
Max- he's upset, it isn't fair that this is working. Charles makes it hard to stay mad at him, sealing his mouth over the pinpricks in Max's skin, tentacles tight around him.
Max's mouth drops open, head dropping limply as Charles presses further into him, and he feels cored open with it, rearranged in the truest sense of the word.
He almost doesn't recognize the swelling sensation at first, but he definitely feels the pressure inside of him, and he fights back, teeth snapping in Charles' direction.
He doesn't want another clutch, that's not how they solve problems-
It's not until he starts trying to utilize his legs- or his tail, whatever it is now- that he realizes Charles is struggling, tentacles slipping against the rough skin of Max's lower body.
Max lunges forward again, eyes narrowed, but he's unfamiliar with the water, with the tail, and there's still tentacles inside of him, coiling up tight, and he gasps, lightning shock through his system at the abrupt fullness.
Charles takes advantage of his distraction, tentacles tightening enough to hurt, twisting forward and pressing him against the wall- Max freezes as he feels sharp teeth rest gently across the front of his throat.
He's completely still, some animalistic part of him realizing Charles is perfectly poised to rip his throat out. They're both tense, neither of them moving, before Max feels the tentacle inside of him uncoil, and he moans- the undoing is almost as bad, the sudden change in him.
He still doesn't dare move, even as he feels the pressure build up again, but- it's harder for Max to find the anger now. Charles won, so he's in charge. Max knows that's not how it's supposed to work, but he can't find his righteous anger about it, eyes rolling back as he twitches in the tentacles grip, fingers uselessly clenching into his palms as Charles deposits the clutch.
In the spirit of Mer-May please could we have some more tentacle au?
this is not the only tentacle verse request, so I don't feel bad that it's short— there'll be more substance to the other one. 600 words (the length I naively used to think was typical), max POV. if you haven't read the tentacle verse before, go check it out on the masterlist and then come back <3 obviously, explicit.
pairings: charles leclerc/max verstappen
relevant heads up: tentacles, aphrodisiacs, max shaming, breeding kink, mind break, everything is consensual! but the conversation max and charles have about limits and all that happens offscreen.
"What do you mean, you're sick?"
Charles scowls at him from the other end of the couch, pathetically blowing his nose into a tissue.
"I mean, I am sick. Exactly what I just said."
Max furrows his brows, shifting.
"But it's breeding season."
Charles rolls his eyes heavenward before glaring at him.
"And I am sick. Which means I cannot give you any eggs right now."
"But..."
Charles takes a deep breath, blowing it all out in an annoyed sigh.
"You are impossible, did you know that? Impossible. If we go to the private cove, and I fuck you so stupid you forget about the damn eggs, will you let me recover?"
Max perks up, heat simmering in his gut.
"Yes, I promise, I will let you rest, I will—"
------
"Charles— Charles, too much, I can't—"
Max cuts off with a loud wail as another tentacles shoves inside of him, stretching him further than he thought was possible, eyes rolled back into his head. He can't take anymore, there's no room.
He opens his mouth to try and tell Charles, only for another tentacle to worm its way down his throat, stretching it wide open as he gags, eyes wide.
"Mmph—!"
Charles coos, human hand brushing at his face gently.
"You asked for this, don't pretend like you don't want it. You were incessant, don't you remember? All 'Charles, when is breeding season?' 'Charles, when are you going to feel better?' 'Charles, when can I have eggs?'"
Max sobs as the tentacles flex inside of him, pleasure tipping into pain as a smaller one curls around his cock.
"Well, here you go. It's breeding season, and you're fucking crying for it."
His eyes widen in panic as the tentacles inside of him slowly pull out, dragging against his walls. He tries to shake his head, but Charles has him held down, and the tentacle in his mouth prevents him from doing anything besides moan helplessly.
He shakes as he feels them drag out near completely, eyes squeezing back shut in anticipation as the grip on his thighs tighten—
Max screams when they slam back into him, coring him in out in an instant, uncaring of how he's sobbing. He's nothing more than a warm, wet fuck to Charles right now, reduced down only to what he can provide.
He's choking on his own spit, gagging around the tentacle in his mouth as Charles presses his fingers against his stomach.
"You're such a good brooder, taking all of me like this... I wish you could see yourself."
His palm presses flat into Max's abdomen, and he writhes, caught between the pressure and pain, overwhelmed by the sensation of the tentacle dragging rhythmically against his prostate.
The tentacles are moving in a slow, grinding pattern, and Max only realizes as the pressure inside him worsens what's happening.
Normally, Charles drops eggs, and then fertilizes them. But without the eggs...
Max struggles against his hold, trying to get away from the inescapable filling sensation pressing up against his skin. Charles grips him tighter, pulling him back onto the tentacles.
"You asked me for this, Max. Begged me for it, so you're going to take it, yes? You are doing such a good job already— you'll be too cum drunk to do anything besides sleep."
Max hangs limply in his grasp as the tentacles slowly start to withdraw, eyes unfocused and head fuzzy. He feels like he's floating away from his body, supported only by Charles.
He moans brokenly when Charles carefully brings him underwater, and Max dutifully inhales, gills fluttering to life.
Charles creates a divot in the sand before curling up in it, sulky as he tugs Max into his chest.
"Are you going to let me rest now? Fuck's sake, you better. I do not know what I'm supposed to do with you, seriously."
Max knows what he's supposed to do— he's supposed to keep him here, full of eggs year round, supposed to bring Max fat fish and let him writhe on his tentacles whenever he wants.
Max is a good brooder. Max deserves it.
He means to say all that, but all he can manage is a soft rasp of bubbles floating up to the surface, and Charles rolls his eyes fondly as his tentacles wrap around him further, settling them both comfortably.
Hiii Sunny! Maxiel and 32 for the ask game? (Hope you have a good day ❤️)
in the true nature of the tentacle verse this got longer than I meant it to. also, I'm not sure if the humor comes through as funny as it is in my head, but. please. it's funny. 1.7k words, alternating Max POV and Daniel POV.
heads up! this is the tentacle verse. nothing explicit but like. the verse as a whole is just. yeah.
Max is curled around the eggs, carefully cradled between his side and his tail. Charles is out hunting, even though Max is perfectly capable— and slightly better at it— because there's a runt in this brood, and he's been stressing about it.
Once they know what species it'll be, Max will be sure to get the aquarium set up for it. Charles still doesn't know about the aquarium, but Max thinks some secret keeping in their relationship is fair, considering he hadn't known about... pretty much anything, getting into it.
There's an uncomfortable twist in his chest, and Max shifts, flexing his nails against the sand underneath him, gills flaring. Nobody's stupid enough to come near the den— Max has made the consequences of that very clear.
It feels almost like a sneeze, and he wrinkles his nose, unsure about the mechanics of sneezing underwater—
------
He's dry.
Max's heart immediately picks up, eyes darting around the room frantically. He's not even sure—
He's on land. In a bed. His limbs don't feel right, and his hair is brushing against his forehead. He lifts a hand to push it out of the way, and the tanned skin staring back at him, the inked rose—
He screams.
------
Daniel's pretty fucking confident he hadn't taken anything weird in the last day or so. Definitely not anything strong enough for him to be having the dream he's having.
He's a mermaid. There's a bunch of little white squishy orbs in the curl of his tail, although it's not scaly or sparkly at all, which feels kind of unfair, honestly. He read somewhere that once you're aware of a lucid dream you can change it, but no amount of wishing makes the tail any cooler.
It reminds him of sharkskin. There's small brown spots all along the tail, traveling up his sides and across his arms, but it's weird.
He's pale.
More pale than he's been in his entire life. There are small, sturdy fins along his forearms, and his nails—
Daniel gets distracted looking at them, long and sharp, slightly hooked at the end. It's a weird dream for sure, especially when he feels up at his neck, the gentle fluttering of skin where water rushes in and out.
He'd never thought about the finer details of a mermaid before, so he's got to give props to his sleeping brain for creativity, although he's not so sure about the squishy things.
His first thought is that they're eggs, based on the small, sandy cradle he's wrapped around, but that doesn't seem right.
Daniel has zero aspirations of mermaid parenthood, even in his subconscious. That much he's confident about.
He tries flicking the tail slightly, finding it intuitive but difficult. There's a soft burble near a hole in the wall, and then something comes in.
Daniel screams.
------
Max probably looks like a crazy man, running outside barefoot, hoping with everything in him that this somehow hasn't happened.
He's Daniel.
He'd checked in all the ways that mattered— bathroom mirror, tattoo tour, phone unlocked with face ID, and helmet collection.
The driveway is hot against his feet. Normally it would burn, cause him to hop around and swear, but Daniel's been doing it his whole life, and the soles of his feet are tougher than Max's are.
He's in Australia.
With legs.
It's not like Daniel can magically turn into a fish or anything either, and Max grips his hands in his hair.
He's trying not to panic, it's just—
If Max is Daniel...
Well.
------
Daniel throws an egg at the intruder. There's plenty of fish bones around, he realizes a moment later, but the egg was nearby. It doesn't throw very well either, drifting through the water until a fucking tentacle wraps around it, carefully tucking it close to a lean chest.
Daniel picks up another egg in one hand, fishbone in the other, eyes narrowed.
The thing uncurls, still holding the egg protectively, and Daniel reconsiders his drug theory as Charles chitters at him through the water.
It's definitely the other driver— the hair, the facial structure, the arms— but the waist down is what has Daniel tripping out, all coiling tentacles and a soft glow.
Charles chitters at him again, sounding annoyed. There's a huge fish wrapped in one of the tentacles, clearly dead.
Daniel isn't sure if his imagination is this vivid.
An irritated trill, and then tentacles are speeding towards him, snatching the egg, the fishbone, and Daniel.
The egg goes back in the clutch, the fishbone gets dropped in the sand, and Daniel gets pulled above water.
"What the fuck? Why did you try to throw an egg at me?"
Charles sounds pissed, and also extremely confused, which is really not helping Daniel's situation any.
"So it is an egg. Are you still a mermaid, if it's tentacles?"
His own voice startles him, low and raspy. There's no trace of his accent, tongue and lips wrapping around the words in a way Daniel doesn't recognize.
Scratch that. He recognizes it, just not on him.
He's staring at Charles, mouth open. The other man eyes him weirdly.
"What, is there blood on my face? Seriously Max, you are acting weird, why the fuck are you throwing the eggs?"
He swallows.
"...Charles?"
His voice is quieter. He's...
He's not so sure he's dreaming.
------
Max takes a private flight. It's 20 hours he'll never get back, but he's panicking. Charles, the eggs—
He sighs in relief that Daniel won't remember any of it once they get him out of the water. He's pretty sure.
Ten hours later he bolts awake in the cabin, blanket stuck to him with sweat.
The memory loss is only because of the secretions, which only happens when—
------
Daniel wheezes, neck crushed by the tentacle wrapped around his throat. His limbs are pinned down in a way he's only seen once on a porn video he definitely hadn't meant to click on, and Charles looks like he wants to kill him.
His fingers twitch weakly as Charles hisses at him, small pointy teeth poking out when he curls his lip.
"How?"
Daniel has a small fear of dogs, and he is rapidly developing a very large fear of the ocean. Specifically squids.
The tentacle around his throat relaxes enough for him to speak, black dots dancing at the edge of his vision.
"Charles, it's me, Daniel."
Charles' eyes widen, and the death grip on Daniel relaxes slightly.
"Ricciardo?"
Daniel nods.
Charles' eyes narrow again, leaning in close to his face.
"Prove it."
He's wracking his brain, trying to figure out how he could possibly—
Oh.
"Vegas, at the Aria—"
The tentacle squeezes tighter again, and Charles' face goes pink.
"Right, yes, I believe you."
He lets go of Daniel, who immediately tries to scramble back a few feet, rubbing at his wrists to try and get blood flow back.
"So I'm... not dreaming."
Charles makes a face, thinking. He shrugs.
"Not necessarily. Some dreams are very vivid, yes?"
Daniel isn't sure that's how that works.
"But if I'm not dreaming— how—"
Charles moves lightning quick, a tentacle constricting around his throat and squeezing, leaving Daniel gasping, clawing for air.
"Shhhhh Daniel. Just a dream. A weird, terrible dream."
His vision is spotty, lungs burning.
The last thing he sees is Charles watching him with furrowed brows.
------
Max hadn't thought this far ahead. He's standing barefoot on the beach, in Daniel's body, and the den is completely inaccessible to a normal person.
Which Daniel is.
Charles is underwater with the eggs, so he doesn't have his phone.
Max winces, tapping at Daniel's phone screen and pulling up the keypad.
It rings once, twice.
"This is Arthur."
"Hey, it's Max. Verstappen. It's complicated. I need you to swim me back down to the den? Within regular people air time?"
"Max? You don't sound... okay, whatever. Are you at the beach?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there in five."
Arthur eyes him with extreme suspicion as he makes his way down into the private cove, hands in his pockets.
"Ricciardo."
Max sighs.
"Not Daniel. Me, Max. We are, uh. Body swapped, I assume."
Arthur's eyes widen.
"Seriously?"
Max holds his arms out in a shrug, lazily spinning in a circle.
"If I could shift gills and swim back down to the den myself, trust me, I would."
Arthur grins at him, canines slightly too sharp.
"Don't worry, I will be gentle. I hear there is a very broody shark that lives down there and likes to eat nosey neighbors."
There it is. Max groans, pulling off his shirt and tucking it under some rocks.
"It was one neighbor, and they were a little more than nosey—"
------
Max's lungs are burning by the time Arthur hauls him up into the air pocket of the den. Charles whips around, startled.
He's leaning over— oh, that's weird, Max doesn't like that— Max. Or Daniel. Daniel-as-Max. There's a shredded piece of fish in his hand.
Arthur blinks, slowly sinking back underwater.
"I will... leave you with that. Have fun."
He disappears with a quiet splash, and Max looks back over at Charles.
Daniel-as-Max is unconscious, dark bruises around his throat. Max makes a face.
"What the fuck?"
Charles winces.
"He thinks it is a dream! If I just keep him unconscious all the time, he will still think it's a dream!"
"So you strangled me? And now, what, you're force feeding him?"
Charles tosses his arms up, glaring.
"I don't see you with any better ideas. And you have left me alone with the eggs! I do not know how to brood, Max, that is the entire point of having you!"
Max rolls his eyes, kicking his feet idly in the water.
"Deadbeat."
"Excuse me—"
------
Daniel wakes up with a hangover that will be going in his personal hall of fame. His bed is rumpled, sheets halfway on the floor.
It smells like saltwater.
There's a phantom pain in his throat, but no bruising when he gingerly touches his fingers to his neck, and he's not in the outfit he remembers wearing the other night—
Mermaid. Charles.
He shudders, grabbing his phone. It's dead next to him, and the breeze is blowing in through his open window, curtains dancing lightly.
He makes a mental note to never take whatever the hell he did last night again.
His phone goes on the charger, and his clothes go in the hamper, and it's only when his screen lights back up that he sees missed messages asking why he'd been spotted barefoot in Monaco.
He wishes he had an answer. Having to chalk something up to a complete rager is something he's getting too old for, but—
wondering about how out of depth charles (and his family) would be while taking care of sharkstappen...in a way they would know at least some stuff because he is their predator but on another hand it's a totally different species
when charles does the swim of shame to be like "...so he's a shark" arthur starts laughing and doesn't stop 😭
the whole family is like "oh! didn't know your tastes leaned that way!" and charles just does not hear the end of it.
so sometimes max is a little scary by accident (or sometimes on purpose to charles), and he's got some different dietary needs, and he leaves fish bones and shark teeth laying around, but he's still part of the family.
it also means people don't mess with their territory much- not only are they an old family, but nobody wants to tangle with an aggressive brooder lmao
I may or maynot just bingeread the entirety of the tentacleverse and sharkstappen and I AM OBSESSED
Max's aquarium has me on a chokehold like I cannot get over how Charles would have been COMPLETELY SHOCKED jaw dropped and in disbelief
I imagined his family also just straight up laughing and bullying Charles calling Max "the parent that cares" as a joke
max believes in taking care of ALL his kids. even the ones that are 100% just animals. which is all of them. they don't have a hybrid baby until much later by accident.
charles is completely baffled whenever he finds out about the aquarium because what. what do you mean max has been collecting them back up and raising them. WHY.
the leclerc's think it's funny because it's so against their nature, but they also see how it's entirely within max's, even before he was sharkstappen.
I keep thinking about sharkstappen. I’m a bit obsessed. When Max turns back human for the first time after and actually keeps his memories, that’s gotta be interesting for him figuring out how to act around Charles on land and while racing. Does he eat more calamari when he’s annoyed at Charles? And oh boy when he realizes he’s had a whole bunch of kids with Charles already and abandoned them…. Also trying out human sex with eachother for the first time will def be a different vibe from what they’re used to at this point. So much to think about haha
sharkstappen my beloved!! fun fact about the kids...
max actually goes behind charles back at one point, swims back to the initial cove in Italy, and track down their previous children. and then he swims back south and does it again. he repeats that process for all of their prior fish kids (who are all still alive because they are freakishly strong for their species- good job, max)
and then when he's human... he has a giant aquarium built. it's not in Monaco, because there's not a whole lot of room, but he gets a speciality facility designed, hires on the best possible people, and has all of his children taken care of. (kind of like a nanny, if you think about it.)
obviously charles doesn't know any of that until way later, which makes it kind of funny because he leaves each breeding season like "wow I hope they survive" and max is sneaking back into the territory and cradling their children to him so he can take them "home".
(that all changes the first time they accidentally have a hybrid kid but that is a whole other tangent)
yes he eats squid when he's pissed off. loudly. he'll order it on room service and charge it to charles' card. (or one particular instance where he orders it to charles' room.)
