I honestly just want to ask you, how do you feel about Charem(Charles harem)?

It is... admitedly a guilty pleasure of mine. I just feel like anyone and everyone would be dying to atleast have a taste of Charles, and reading them trip over themselves to please him is just amazing entertainment.

I love all your rants btw!! ❤️❤️

Charem!!

I joke about the charem, and I love it in theory because of course Charles deserves to worshipped and pleased, but I have to be in a particular mood to actually indulge in it. I’m honestly just too lestappen-pilled 💀

you know how the grid always talks about how charles is the prettiest driver?

well i was thinking of an abo version of that like imagine Charles as the omega princess of the all‑alpha paddock, soft, adored and covered in mating bites. He’s forever spoiled rotten, always being carried around or curled up in someone’s lap, treated like the prettiest angel and fawned over nonstop.

And uh for a little bit of spice, each time a driver wins a race, their pretty omega will always be waiting in their hotel room to celebrate.

Hi Anon 🤭

Another little Charem idea here ❤️

Paddock Princess Charles who's also the Grid Omega, spoiled and pampered and absolutely doted on by every single driver because truly, who could resist this adorable, tempestuous, angel-faced menace? 🥰 I imagine this harem situation as a Court of Versailles scenario where Charles has a maîtresse-en-titre (chief mistress) and then several other "mistresses" that he also adores and happily gets down on his knees for 💘

But because I am a Lestappie, I imagine Max gets the place of honor—being the one to bite down on Charles's official mating gland on his neck—while the others imprint their bite marks on his shoulders, chest, waist, lower belly, inner thighs, ass (🤭), and back. Charles always coming to the paddock with slick leaking down his inner thigh, legs a little shaky, but wearing a bright, beautiful smile with flushed cheeks and a rosy glow surrounding him 🥰

Imagine the drivers knowing they can use their Omega whenever they want so if they've had a particularly unproductive meeting with their engineers or a reporter asks one too many dumb questions, they know they can find their Omega, bend him over the nearest flat surface, and fuck into his pretty, wet pussy while Charles happily moans their name.

Our poor Omega doesn't even know his name or what he looks like behind his mask (they spent all night fucking with their masks on because it was hot as hell). He's whining and complaining and unable to think or sleep without the Alpha (and every time Charles tries to touch himself it just leads to frustration and tears because he can't ever make his orgasms feel as good as his mysterious Alpha did that one night 😭). So after spending days pouting and grouchy, Joris (who's kind of fed up) goes:

"Why don't you figure out who the Alphas at the ball were and sleep with each of them until you find your Prince Charming with the magic dick?"

And....

You know what? That's the best idea Charles has ever heard.

(Even though in this scenario Charles would be Princess Charming searching for his Cinderfella with the magic dick.)