What if aside from the additional softness in his chest, Charles starts experiencing other changes? Like suddenly Max is taller than him, what do you mean Charles now reaches his shoulder? And why are his rings loose on his fingers? Do they look....dainty? And his shoes, why does he need to buy three sizes less than his usual size?
Max notices these changes and his inner alpha is howling in excitement, but keeps quiet about it, he doesn't want Charles to stop it from happening (I just know that aside from his dark thoughts Max has a size kink).
The height difference? Oh no Schat, maybe it's your imagination. The rings? Oh Charlie, maybe you just lost some weight.
But when Charles' hips widen, God, there's no denying it any longer. Especially when Charles asks him: "Maxie, why won't my jeans go beyond my knees?" 🥺
Hi @vanevafu 🔥
Link to the accidental bitching AU here
🥵 This!! Ohhh my lord this is so precious because as these changes take place Charles doesn’t know what’s going but as each day passes, he feels like a missing puzzle piece is finally slotting into place. He keeps purring like a little V8 engine and he can’t keep his hands off of Max—always needing his Alpha’s touch, his cuddles and kisses and attention. It gets to the point where Charles comes home (he’s pretty much moved into Max’s penthouse) and immediately changes into his Alpha’s clothes, drenching himself in the fresh, cozy scent of sea salt, lemongrass, and cedar wood.
And Max? Our Dutch Alpha who knows exactly what’s going on and can’t believe his precious Charlie is literally morphing into a perfect little Omega for him to mate and pup up? Max is going out of his mind with desire, lust, and love. He’s trailing after Charles like a hopeless, devoted fool, complete with the heart eyes and absolute willingness to gaslight his baby because yes, this is a Dark!Max AU and he will not do anything to jeopardize the blessing he shall soon receive 🥰
And the day Charles comes to him with teary eyes, dressed only a pair of silk panties (Max bought him everything they had in stock at La Perla after the younger Alpha confessed he’d always wanted to wear some of those pretty silk-and-lace confections but was worried they’d look silly on him 😭) and Max’s oversized shirt, holding out his jeans and crying that he can’t button them and he doesn’t know what’s happening because he hasn’t changed his diet or exercise routine…?
Max’s eyes darken. He immediately walks up to the doe-eyed beauty and, without hesitation, lifts up the shirt that’s now hanging loosely off of Charles’s smaller, more petite frame. Those slim thighs, narrow hips, and tapered waist that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a GQ model has now been replaced with perfect hourglass curves. Charles’s thighs are lush and full, his hips rounded and perfect for carrying pups, and that slim waist now curves out to give a soft hourglass figure while also allowing some extra softness to remain on Charles’s belly.
His entire body is priming itself to be selected as Max’s mate.
And while Charles gets embarrassed (trying to turn away and tug down his shirt), Max lets out a desperate, low groan of desire that startles the Ferrari driver so much he freezes. Max doesn’t hesitate—his hands (large and strong, covered with callouses on his palm and scars between his fingers) greedily grope at Charles’s full hips and soft belly. The way he reverently maps out the other Alpha’s changing body gets Max so turned on that Charles can see—in real time—the way Max’s cock hardens, getting thicker and thicker until it looks almost painful pressed against the zipper of his jeans.
“Schatje,” Max growls, pulling Charles flush against him, almost grinding against the shorter man’s hip, “fuck, Charlie, you look so good. My pretty boy, verdomme—I just want to eat you up.”
Charles whimpers. His body feels hot all over with the way Max is touching him and—and—
His burns with shame when he feels it. Wetness, soaking through his panties.
Did he…did he just pee himself? “M-Maxie, I need to change and go to the bathroom I—”
But Charles never gets the change to finish his sentence because Max suddenly spins him around so Charles’s back is to him. One rough hand moves to tug down the Alpha’s silk panties before the Red Bull driver stuns Charles by falling to his knees.
Max. Eye level with Charles’s soft, jiggly 🍑
“Max—! Chéri, please I…I think I—” He doesn’t know how to say it, how to tell his Alpha that Charles has just wet himself but Max’s big hands are gripping his hips, almost prying Charles’s ass open so Max can see his pretty little hole—
And that’s when the Alpha lets out a growl that reverberates throughout the room. “So wet, you’re so fucking wet for me, Charlie.” He pants, mouthing at Charles’s ass, so very close to where all the wetness is. “Taste so good, fuck—”
“Max what are you…?”
He feels Max shudder, feels the way the Dutchman’s fingers press against his hips so tightly Charles lets out a yelp. “You’re dripping slick, schat.” There’s something dangerous in Max’s voice now, something dark and heavy and possessive. “My Charles,” his tongue licks a dribble of slick running down the round curve of Charles’s plump little ass, “my Omega.”
Hi Nina! I'm glad to see you wrote about the sugar baby au again! But there's some I must know. In one the previous parts you said Max kept coming back to Charles' University to watch him from afar. What did he see during these visits?
Hi @vanevafu 💛
Sugar Baby AU Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
(Part 2 is where Max confesses he returned to Nice every week just to catch a glimpse of Charles 🥲)
Laughter
Max returns to Nice the week after his obligatory visit. His pilot is surprised. His PA is bewildered. And most of his inner circle ask if he's feeling alright. Max Verstappen is a creature of habit, he is efficient and precise, never wasting a day in his life when his business empire could be expanded, when the stocks could still rise, when his profit margin could get even higher.
He take a conference call on his private jet and then asks his PA to block out the rest of his day.
Max returns to the same sidewalk near the Côte d'Azur University, to the exact same location as the day his world turned upside down, and eyes searching for emerald green eyes, soft brown hair, and a scowl that reminded Max of a disgruntled kitten.
He searches the bookstores and cafes, the little mom and pop restaurants and tiny clothing boutiques that might sell a certain lemon print dress that Max can't get out of his head. He doesn't care that he looks out of place and strange in his bespoke Brioni suit and Rolex watch. The sun is bright and shining, sweat beads down the back of Max's collar, but he refuses to leave this sidewalk. Not if it means missing—
And that's when he hears it.
Laughter, right across the street.
He'd recognize that voice anywhere—those sharp few words, spoken in a Monegasque accent, etched into his memory.
There, standing across the street and holding an iced matcha latte, is the brunet angel who run straight into Max and refused to apologize. He's browsing the outdoor displays from the small bookshop, giggling with someone Max couldn't care less about. Max walks closer, remaining hidden in the shadows of the next stop over.
He hears his voice, melodic and sweet, and then hears the other person call him—
Charles.
Kiss
Max returns the very next week—doesn't even care that it's raining cats and dogs in Nice, that the sky is an ominous gray and the cobblestone streets are soaked through.
This time, Max waits inside the matcha shop that Charles visited last time. He'd seen the logo on the cup and discovered the location not long after.
Max had watched Charles all afternoon and then asked the bookseller which books the brunet purchased.
F. Scott Fitzgerald. The Beautiful and Damned.
Max smiles. He picked up the exact same copy and read it on his flight back to Amsterdam, wondering if Charles was a literature student or if he simply enjoyed the world of excess, decadence, and the rise and fall of the Jazz Age.
Unlike the first time, Max only waits 40 minutes before the overhead bell rings. Max slides further into the back corner, observing as Charles, his beautiful boy in his red rain coat and galoshes, walks inside and shakes out his umbrella.
The barista greets him by name and adds in Leclerc!
Max watches the way Charles leans over the counter and gives the pretty brunette Omega a kiss on both cheeks. "Charlotte! When does your shift end? I was thinking we could study together before Professor Léaud's exam?" He speaks in rapid French, dimples on both cheeks as he smile sand listens to his friend.
Max isn't fluent, but he can pick up the general gist.
He and the girl—Charlotte—are architectural students at the Côte d'Azur University, both from Monaco, and both love a little bakery called Val d'Argenton.
Max watches the way Charles is playful and teasing with Charlotte, how he sits near the counter so they can continue to chat. And when the hour is up, he kisses Charlotte on both cheeks again before they walk out, arm in arm.
Max remains there for another moment.
He has never wanted anyone as badly as he wants Charles Leclerc.
Sweet
Val d'Argenton is a tiny bakery near the bookshop and matcha cafe that Max sneaks into one evening. He's been in back to back investor meetings all day and only managed to jet over to Nice 30 minutes ago. He's dressed in a Celine trench coat, Loro Piana suit, and a Rolex Datyona "Le Mans" wristwatch. The most inconspicuous in his collection.
He wonders what kind of jewelry Charles likes—big, splashy pink diamonds from Lorraine Schwartz? Refined but eye catching diamonds from Harry Winston? The intricate gold designs from Buccellati? Electric emeralds and panther settings from Bulgari? Max would buy them all—jewels from each collection—if it meant pleasing Charles.
Would the Omega be willing to come to Max, dressed in nothing but diamond body chains, and lay down on the silk sheets with slick trickling down his thighs and tease the Alpha with breathless sighs, teasing whispers of "taste me, Alpha?"
Or would Charles be shy? Nervous and hesitant, biting his bottom lip to calm his nerves. His sun kissed skin setting off the diamonds perfectly, making the young Omega shimmer the way Aphrodite might have when bathed in starlight and pearls.
But those daydreams halt once the omega that's consumed his every waking thought steps in. Tired. In an old, crewneck sweatshirt and yoga pants, backpack across one shoulder. Purple bruises under his eyes—exhausted from exam season. He orders an espresso and a slice of tiramisu.
Max smiles.
Charles has a sweet tooth.
(Basically: Max stalks and observes Charles—his habits, his likes and dislikes, the way he giggles or frowns. He's just so completely enamored that he can't stop himself. Just seeing the Omega makes his day and the second he learns Charles has joined a sugar baby site? Max ensures he will be Charles first, only, and last client 💓)
It's been quite a while since I wrote (lol) but don't worry I've been faithfully reading all of your posts! Because alas I can't live without them~
Ninaaaa please I need to know what happened next in the fantasy abo AU! How did dancer Charles react after mighty King Max told him that he wanted him to be his bride?
I bet Charles was torn between disbelief and indignation, like " Of course I'll marry you my king 😊. Of course a noble like you will marry a dancer like me" while he tries to walk backwards out of the maze as subtly as he can.
Kinda like that forest scene in the sleeping beauty where Aurora is trying to put some distance between herself and the prince, but he can't help but want to get closer and hold her hand because he's absolutely smitten
Hi @vanevafu 🕊
Fantasy ABO: Part 1
Our gorgeous, elusive, alluring dancer is staring up at this intense but good-looking and seemingly fearsome Alpha warrior-king who's defied every convention and expectation he's come to know because—
What king throws away the chance to marry a duchess or princess or queen? Charles knows he's beautiful and talented and sought after by men and women alike but...the bride to a monarch? A future queen? Mother of a nation?
He bites down on his bottom lip.
Clearly, this blue-eyed, well-muscled, annoyingly attractive Alpha is crazy.
The Omega smiles up at him, pretty and sweet and so very charming. The kind of smile that allows Alphas to let him get away with any and every indiscretion.
But right as he opens his mouth, the Alpha king in front of him cups his cheek with his large, warm hand. Charles can feel the rough callouses of his palm—the result of decades of hard work, training and battling and fighting for every inch of the kingdom he now reigns over. "You do not believe me." He observes.
Charles blinks up at him.
So the king is shrewd. Shrewd and mindful and clearly not one of the pompous fools who Charles has swindled so easily in the past. "Can you blame me, your highness?" He asks lightly, even if his spine is now straighter, his body a little stiffer. "You have come to me with a very coveted offering—do you know how many Omegas would kill to become your bride?"
"I do not want anyone to kill for me. I want someone I can return to, someone soft and warm and lovely, just for me. Someone with a sharp tongue and emerald eyes who can move like water and sparkle beneath chandelier lights." The Alpha king gazes down at him, expression open and sincere.
His heart on his sleeve.
"I have spent much of my life in bloodshed, La Perla," he explains softly, "and I seek respite from all of it. I want someone I can return to who will build a home with me, who will take my hand and teach me there are still beautiful things left in this world. A queen who will counsel me, laugh with me, argue with me."
Charles feels his heart skip a beat when the king's thumb traces his bottom lip.
"I want to give you all the sweetest things in the world, La Perla. I want to make you love me."
"You said you would go to war for me." He tries his hardest not to nuzzle the rough palm pressed against his cheek.
"I will." The king does not hesitate. "I would never dare ask that you kill for me, but I will conquer nations for you, La Perla."
Oh. The dancer's breath catches. An electric current runs over him, he can feel the heat between his legs throb—can feel the way he's clenching down, as if desperate to keep the slick from leaking down his inner thigh but it's too late.
The bold sincerity, the unflinching request, the confident honesty—
It sets Charles alight with someone he hasn't felt in years. Desire.
Oh, he has been desired by others, yes, but true desire? The urge to grab onto another Alpha and wrap himself around them? To allow someone to see beyond the glitter and the clever sway of his hips? It is terrifying to consider.
But the warrior-king standing in front of him, so still and massive and drinking in Charles's every expression, still carries a sword on his hip.
A sword that he is willing to soak in blood, just for the honor of Charles's hand.
He lifts his own hand, so dainty and small and bronzed by the sun, to press against the Alpha's large chest. To feel his heartbeat.
"I am bound to this empire." He confesses, voice barely louder than a whisper. "They will not release me, your highness. They will not let me go."
"Then I will make them." The Alpha—his Alpha—replies simply.
As if it's the simplest truth in the world.
"I want you." His other arm snakes around Charles's tiny waist, encircling his body, dragging him close. "My beating heart is yours and I will not allow any other to come between us."
"Even if that 'other' is the Monegasque Empire?" He dares to ask.
But his Alpha is relentless. "I will fight all the empires on this earth for you, La Perla. And I will win."
"Charles."
His Alpha's brow furrows at the abrupt shift.
But the Omega is insistent. "My name is Charles, your highness. If I am to be your bride, then I command you call me by my name." He dimples up at him, hope threatening to burst out of his chest.
"Charles." He repeats, in that low, throaty voice with its harsh consonants and rocking horse cadence. "Mijn Charles." He exhales, pressing their foreheads together. "At last."
I came by, because I need to know. What happened with mechanic Charles and driver Max? What happened during or after his visit to the paddock?
Hi @vanevafu ⚙️
Driver Max x Mechanic Charles AU: Part 1, Part 2
During:
Ohhh our precious Charlie all bright-eyed and ecstatic to be sitting there, rubbing shoulders with some of the finest engineers and mechanics in the world and Max watching all this like a proud boyfriend, a huge smile on his face, unable to look away because nothing is more captivating than seeing Charles in his element 😍
Max purposely blocks time just for Pierre and Paul to sit down with Charles for coffee and chocolate Kouign-amanns while the Omega eagerly chats with them. Max sees Pierre and Paul's polite distance gradually melt away as the conversation continues—their eyes widening at the sheer knowledge Charles possesses and his ability to apply theory to practice.
When Charles gets up to get everyone water, Paul actually walks over to Max and asks him why the hell he didn't introduce Charles to RBR when Phil Turner was interviewing for prospective lead mechanics...?
But once Charles returns, Max is ready to sweep his brilliant Omega way for a very private lunch. He's learned some of Charles's food preferences during that one meeting they had and asked his private chef to prepare a spread that includes tortellini, prosciutto pizza, tiramisu, and some of the finest vanilla ice cream delivered straight from Ibiza.
Except.
Pierre and Paul will not stop yapping.
And Charles is so enthralled that he also can't stop yapping—leaving Max sitting there to the side, disgruntled and disappointed because he doesn't want to interrupt his crush's conversation.
He really doesn't.
But he's starting to get jealous.
Very, very jealous.
As if sensing the Alpha's growing discontent, the Monegasque mechanic suddenly turns to face Max, his eyes sparkling with happiness and a wide, dimpled smile on his angelic face.
Charles doesn't know what possesses him to speak to Max. Only that his inner Omega was crying out for him not to neglect the Alpha, that Max shouldn't be left out or ignored.
It's ridiculous. So stupidly ridiculous because Charles doesn't owe Max anything—this whole meeting was Max's repayment to him after the Alpha accidentally insulted Charles.
But the brunet looks over at the Red Bull driver—at Max—who's now staring at him with an expression that's so...soft. Almost sweet. Charles reaches out one hand, half-hoping Max will leave because the emotions swirling inside of him are decidedly uncomfortable but—
The 4-time world champion jumps (quite literally jumps) out of his seat and hurriedly rushes over to Charles, quickly enveloping the Monegasque's small, rough hand in his own larger one.
For a moment, the two of them look at one another—blue eyes meeting green—and Charles feels the rest of the world fade away for just a moment.
Behind him, Pierre clears his throat and Charles quickly turns back around (still holding hands with Max) and hurriedly says something about getting a driver's opinion on the inverted airfoil wings.
He's flustered, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
But the most startling thing that Pierre and Paul notice? The sight of their star driver standing there, like a dedicated guard dog, staring at the young mechanic with hearts in his eyes.
After:
After Pierre and Paul are (mercifully) called away by GP, Max happily leads Charles to his trailer.
A usually sterile space that's been transformed into an intimate and beautifully decorated dining space complete with pristine linen tablecloths and freshly cut roses.
He glances down at Charles to see that the mechanic's eyes have widened with surprise before the smallest little smile appears on his lips. "Well," the huffs, "I hope your PA gets a raise for all this."
"You wound me, kleintje, you don't think I did this myself?" Max feigns indignation.
Charles peers up at him, unimpressed. "I think we both know you're not the type of Alpha to focus on interior design and flower arrangements, Max Verstappen."
"True," he concedes, "but I am the type of Alpha who'll remember what you like and do my best to make sure you get it."
"You sound terribly bossy, Mr. Verstappen." His smile turns mischievous. "If I were to talk to your employees would they say you're a nightmare to work for?"
"Fuck, I hope not." Max chuckles. "Why? You thinking of joining Team Verstappen? I think you'd look stunning in navy. But then again, you look stunning in anything you wear."
Charles rolls his eyes. "Now you're just flattering me." He lets go of Max's hand to walk towards the gorgeously set table.
The Alpha tries not to whine at the loss of contact but something about Charles's tone catches him off guard.
"What do you mean I'm just flattering you?"
"Max. Be serious." He tries to sound casual, one hand brushing over a vase of red roses. "I'm wearing old jeans and a t-shirt. Not exactly haute couture. I'm actually surprised you would walk beside me through the paddock. Don't you usually surround yourself with supermodels?"
"Those are Red Bull guests I'm forced to associate with. And don't try to change the subject." Max crosses his arms, expression serious.
Because...it almost sounds like Charles doesn't think he's beautiful.
"I'm not." The Omega tries to deflect. "Just saying that in the world of PR and media appearances matter and—"
"I think you're one of the loveliest people I've ever met Charles. You could wear a potato sack and steal my breath away." He walks closer.
Charles to back away but he's caught in between the dining table—
And Max.
"I know you don't believe me right now but...seeing you this morning, schat? Your hair all rumpled and your cheeks glowing with excitement? I realized right then and there that I don't want to look at anyone else except you."
The words are said a sort of aching tenderness that catches Charles completely off guard.
In that moment, it's not 4-time F1 world champion and millionaire athlete Max Verstappen standing in front of him.
It's just Max.
The handsome, goofy, wonderful man who appeared at Charles's auto shop one afternoon and decided to set the Omega's heart alight.
Oh, Charles blinks dazedly, oh he is in so much trouble.
Hi Nina! I sincerely hope that you are well and your days are filled with inner peace and well being ❤️
Today I had an idea and I wanted to share it with you. Remember how Charles complained about his noisy garage neighbors? Cof cof red bull. Well... What if it was on purpose?
You see the RBR team is fed up seeing their golden boy pinning endlessly for the gorgeous Monegasque Omega and they have tried their best to encourage Max, but our boy is shy. Saying out loud that Charles is their driver in law? No problem, RBR PR Team got you with daily Lestappen posts. Encouragement from your closest friend on the grid/ race engineer? Don't worry, GP will tell you to go "get your man" on international TV. But Max just won't make a move.
The season is about to end and everyone is becoming restless, not even the champion is this stressing. Then, unexpectedly, look and behold they became garage neighbors with Ferrari. So the mechanics took one for the team and tried to serenade Charles without Max's knowledge. They will annoy Charles into coming to Max. They blasted any and every love song they knew.
Until Charles complained publicly and Max, absolutely flabbergasted, tried to talk his mechanics into keeping it down, but they finally got the pretty brunette's attention, they weren't going to stop now. So for one last time they basted the music as loud as they could until finally Charles couldn't take any longer and went to personally complain to their garage.
At the same time Max came out of his Motorhome to tell them off for bothering the Ferraris. Charles saw Max and chose to go to him directly to complain, but what do you know? There was some motor oil on the floor so Charles slipped and Max catched him! Straight out of a romcom! And what's even worse? Is that GP played "I just died in your arms tonight" to give them the goddamn final push because he is not going to accept this pinning any longer. If the mechanics are high fiving each other for spilling oil on the floor then nobody needs to know.
Sorry for the long rambling! Take care❤️
Hi @vanevafu 🪅
This is the cutest little romcom scenario ever!! The RBR mechanics playing matchmaker because they're sick and tired of seeing their boy Max pining from afar?? The most obvious, sappy, cheesy love song of all time being blasted at top volume?? Spilling motor oil so Charles literally falls into Max's arms?? Someone get those mechanics a raise and an all expenses paid trip to Bora Bora! This is sheer Billy Wilder romcom brilliance 🥰
Just imagine RBR Admin learning that Max has finally managed to ask Charles out on a date (really, it wasn't Max—his mechanics made a sign that said "WILL YOU, CHARLES LECLERC, GO ON A DATE WITH THIS IDIOT, MAX VERSTAPPEN?") and they need to share this news with the world because they have waited too damn long??
Except Max is such a blushy, shy mess that RBR Admin doesn't want to embarrass them so they decide to post a subtle photo:
[Image Description: Max, standing outside his garage, cheeks pink but a wide, beaming smile on his face. He's talking to someone—you can't really see them, just a sliver of their body. They have one familiar, tanned hand raised, gesturing towards Max. The photo is taken in profile, so you can't see where Max's other hand is...but it's 100% wrapped around the familiar brunet's waist.]
[Audio Playing: (I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight by Cutting Crew]
redbullracing It must've been something you said 🤭 Max is all smiles before FP1 today #KeepPushing 🦁❤️
And if they just kept it at that, nothing would've happened.
Except Max is on cloud 9 (because Charles said yes!! The most perfect and beautiful and funny and talented—oh my god Max, yes he agreed to date you can you please stop talking) and doesn't realize he's not on his private IG account.
So he comments:
maxverstappen1 Most gorgeous boy in the world crossing enemy lines to visit me 🥰
Hi Nina! 🎉🎉 on the 500 followers 🎉🎉 and thank you for keeping us so well fed this season with your fics and aus ❤️
Nina I have a question for you. We have seen how in almost every universe our gorgeous omega is sassy, sexy and confident and I ABSOLUTELY love it, but what would happen if Charles was really shy and introverted instead?
Like our baby boy knows he is gorgeous, he has been told so all his life, but he doesn't think he could be an object of desire for anyone, specially Max. It's like flirting hasn't really crossed his mind so he doesn't try. So he doesn't have any experience with relationships.
How would our durch alpha react? Would Max be all endeared and protective or will he be foaming at the mouth thinking about how he could be the first to woo and worship his body?
Thanks for reading and happy holidays Nina! May your holidays be full of joy and love 💕
Hi @vanevafu 🐥
Shy, introverted Charles who has a crush on Max but in this AU he's a bit of a wallflower and is too afraid to go up to the Dutch Lion and talk to him but Charles likes him so, so much 🥺 our precious Ferrari boy thinking there's so many other drivers Max could ask out and Charles isn't anywhere near experienced enough...he wouldn't know what to do on a date and all the kisses he's had before were horrible so what if he's the problem?
But Max will not be deterred. It's the holiday season—a time for miracles—and the Dutchman decides to go all in. He and Charles have slowly developed a bond over these last few years, a genuine friendship and connection that has Max's heart doing backflips and obsessively checking his phone every time he gets a notification, always hoping for a text from Charles.
Max walks right up to Charles's penthouse door, an enormous bouquet of poinsettias in his arms, and prays the Omega he wants actually wants Max back.
I can only imagine Charles's surprise, shock, and delight when he sees Max—he really though the Alpha would've flown to Belgium for winter break—but instead, the blond is standing right here, with flowers for Charles and oh! The Omega quickly invites him inside, rushing to get a vase for the flowers and then shyly asking if Max would like something to drink too? "That way it's not just the flowers that are hydrated."
And see—it's this kind of sweet, dorky humor from Charles that Max loves.
He can't help himself. The Red Bull driver was going to ease into it but after looking at those adorable dimples and feeling the soft touch of Charles's hands brushing against his own, the Alpha completely loses control.
"Charlie...god, Charles, I know I sound insane right now and—you can say no, you can always say no and this will never affect our friendship but...I like you so much Charles." Earnest blue eyes gaze into stunned emerald. "I think I've liked you since we were kids...since you pushed me into that puddle and then ran off before I could say anything to you. You were always so sweet. Sweet and competitive and so fucking pretty I didn't know what to do with myself. I kept telling everyone you were my rival but...Charles," Max takes one of Charles's smaller, more delicate hands in his own, "I would love to date you. To spend every day with you, to just be with you." He brings Charles's hand to his lips and presses the softest, sweetest kiss against his knuckles. "Charles Leclerc...will you go out with me?"
And Charles.
Oh our poor, sweet Omega baby 😭😭😭
He's speechless and overwhelmed and his heart feels impossibly full. Because how can it be possible? The Alpha he's liked since he was a teenager actually like him back?
"Max...do you really mean it?" He asks quietly. "You really want to date me?"
"Of course!" The words come out in a rush, as if Max couldn't stand the thought of Charles doubting for even one second the depth of the Alpha's affections for him.
"Oh." A furious blush begins to color the younger man's face, his head bowed low, staring at his sock-covered feet. "I...Max I've never...I mean, I don't have any experience with...dating. Or anything else." He confesses quietly.
The Alpha stills. "What do you mean, Charlie?"
"I um, I mean..." He peeks up through long dark lashes. "I've never...been with anyone. At all." He can't bring himself to say the word sex (just thinking it has Charles blushing all over) but he doesn't want to disappoint Max.
Doesn't want the Alpha to throw him aside because Charles is some naive, young virgin.
But instead of seeing disappointment in those strong, handsome features, Charles can only see...desire.
It's clear as day, raw and desperate and barely restrained.
Because little does Charles know just how greedy Max Emilian Verstappen really is. Little does Charles know how obsessive and insane Max has been about the Ferrari driver since he realized he loved him. Little does Charles know that the thought of being Charles's first (and last) has quite honestly melted the Alpha's brain and sent him to a higher plane of existence.
Nina I have to confess, never in my life had I ever thought about Loscar, but the way you write about them has me seriously reconsidering my life shipping choices.
May I ask what happened after Logan woke up to Oscar's confession and the sapphire ring? Please PLEASE tell me that Logan will make him beg and crawl. I've read your other Loscar stories and I've kinda developed a soft spot for Logan. I want him to be happy, find himself, build his self-confidence and maybe if Oscar has groveled enough and shown that he truly cares, maybe forgive him. Otherwise keep living your best life Logan! Don't stop saying Queen!! 👑💅
Hi @vanevafu and Loscar Anon! 💙🧡
Loscar Birthday Wish AU Part 1
You don't know how happy it makes me to know there are more Loscar fans out there!! Logan deserves all the love and care in the world and if Oscar keeps flopping this hard then he better be prepared for the consequences!! (Like...idk...might send a gorgeous British pop star Logan's way and see how Oscar likes it when he's no longer the focus of the Omega's affections 🤭)
(Just look at how precious Logan looks when he's smiling 🥹)
"I want you to marry me and be the mother of my pups and come to the paddock and I want to introduce you to everyone as Logan Sargeant-Piastri."
Logan stares in disbelief. He can't believe the words that are coming out of the Aussie's mouth—the sheer brazen audacity is just so quintessentially Oscar. Never prone to lurid bouts of emotion but always confident in himself—the kind of quiet confidence Logan had always admired and respected.
Except right now.
Right now, the American was torn between throwing him out or grabbing Oscar by the collar and kissing him the way he's always wanted to, since the day he realized he was in love with his best friend.
"You really think those words will make this better?" He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't even bother to look at Oscar. Instead, his gaze is fixed on his bedsheets and rumpled remains of his nest.
If he looks at the Alpha now, he might give in.
"No." Oscar's voice is low and steady. Respectful in a way Logan wasn't accustomed to. Not after all the neglect the McLaren driver had thrown his way. "I know words don't mean anything unless they're backed up by action and so far, I've made a horrible botch of everything. I know I have." He dares to move closer—Logan can smell that sea salt and eucalyptus scent growing stronger. "But I want you to know those are the only truths I know. Logan, please—will you look at me?"
He shakes his head—his one small mark of defiance.
But Oscar doesn't ask again. Instead, Logan feels one rough, calloused hand brushing against his forearm. "I messed up, I got caught up in shit that doesn't matter and deluded myself into thinking it was okay. That I could make it up to you later. That...that I could somehow fix everything because I won a few races and thought I was invincible." He gives a self-deprecating chuckle. "See what happens when I don't have you by my side? I turn into a big-headed idiot."
"You were always big-headed, but you only became an idiot when you got into Formula One." Logan mutters quietly. It's meant to a biting comment—something to throw in Oscar's face—but the Alpha only lets out a soft, surprised laugh.
"Yeah baby," his fingers close around Logan's forearm, "I am an idiot. But I'm an idiot who's in love with you."
Logan doesn't say anything.
"Will...will you let me court you, Logan? Properly?"
He bites his lip, blue eyes shimmering with tears even as he does his best to beat back the crippling hope that threatens to consume him. It's always been like this—Logan's heart has been tied to Oscar's since the day the American realized yes, he is mine, I love him and I want him and he is my Alpha.
Slowly, he lifts his head and allows Oscar to see him in the light of day.
He looks thin and pale, his cheeks are hollow, eyes red-rimmed from crying. Blond hair mussed and slightly oily from days of hiding away in his nest. Oscar can see the bones of décolletage—they'd always been prominent due to Logan's slender frame but now the bones are stretched against pale skin, like the Omega had been starving himself.
But even like this, even hollowed out and tearstained, Oscar's heart still skips a beat. Ocean eyes, straight nose, pale pink lips.
Logan.
Still his Logan, even after everything Oscar's done—the wreck he's made and the mistakes that cut the Alpha to his core.
Oscar dares to move closer, stomach pressed against the side of his bed, still on his knees (he won't leave until Logan throws him out). Carefully, he lifts one hand, eyes watching Logan's face—at the slightest sign of discomfort, Oscar will stop. He'll retreat back to the foot of the bed and wait until Logan speaks to him again.
Instead, the American Omega allows Oscar's hand to gently cup his cheek and the warmth—the tender familiarity—seeps into Oscar's bones, welcoming him home.
"You can try." The words leave Logan's lips in a soft sigh as the American closes his eyes. "You can try, Oscie. But I'm not making any promises."
🦅🐨🦅🐨
I imagine afterwards, Oscar absolutely lavishes Logan with gifts, praise, time, and attention. He pretty much stays at the Sargeant Estate for the rest of winter break, doting on Logan and doing his best to prove himself as a worthy Alpha.
The task is made easier as Logan's parents are on holiday in Hawaii while Logan's older brother is handling business in Boca Raton. It's just Logan and Oscar—and the Alpha intends to make every last second count.
