all about max and charles

"Max? What's the matter chéri?" He asks, genuinely puzzled.

Most of the time Charles has to kiss Max to shut him up.

But now, the Omega doesn't seem to want to talk unless Charles prompts him.

"Nothing." His stubborn little mate replies, refusing to make eye contact.

Charles's grip on the steering wheel tightens.

He can't explain why he feels so...out of control. His entire body is tense, mind screaming at him to figure out why Max is behaving this way, why his Omega hasn't eagerly kissed him or held his hand or turned on the radio.

Everything feels wrong.

Completely and utterly wrong.

Without thinking, Charles pulls over on a quiet stretch of road, turns off the ignition, and turns to face Max.

Once he does, the Omega quickly turns his head to look out his passenger side window.

Charles stares at the back of his mate's head.

And the bubbling unease spills over like a newly corked bottle of champagne.

"Chéri. Max. Look at me." His voice deepens, becoming richer and heavier—Charles is so close to activating his Alpha Voice but he doesn't want to.

Not once in their entire relationship has Charles had to use his Alpha Voice. Well, he used it often when they were in bed together but—

That's a different story.

Instead, Charles waits—patience fraying with every second that goes by—until Max stiffly turns to face him.

And the Alpha sees his blue eyes are red and shiny and—

"You've been crying." The realization should not hurt.

The pain should not be so fierce.

And Charles should not feel like he needs to haul Max into his arms and protect him from the world.

But he does.

He reaches over, ready to wrap an arm around Max's waist and kiss his Omega until Max purred like a little V8 engine—

But the Dutchman shakes his head. "You don't have to bother with that, Charli—I mean, Charles. I'll get over it."

I'll get over it.

Since when the fuck has Max turned away Charles's kisses and cuddles? Since when has his sweet, clingy, needy little darling not thrown himself at his Alpha, basking in the proffered comfort and care?

What did Charles do?

Did he hurt Max? Did he say something, do something, that made the Omega feel like Charles didn't want him?

Or—

Charles's jaw tightens, his heart literally throbs in his chest.

Did Max find someone else? Another Alpha who might have enticed the Omega or swayed him with honeyed words?

Charles vows that if this is true, if there's another bastard out there trying to seduce his Omega away, Charles Leclerc will see to it that there aren't even enough body parts left for the DNA analysis.

With a half-anguished, half-furious growl, Charles throws open the driver's side door, storms out, and all but rips Max's passenger side door from its hinges.

He hauls the protesting Omega into his arms before pinning him against the side of the car, boxing Max in with his arms.

"I am your Alpha." Charles's left arm snakes around Max's waist, his large hand clasping his mate's hip so hard Max yelps out loud. "You are mine. Mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to adore. You will tell me whatever it is that's bothering you and I will fix it, mon chéri. Because we are each other's—and no one else's. No one else gets to have you or touch you or kiss you. You're mine."

Max's big blue eyes grow watery—but his scent (which had been suspiciously muted all day) begins to strengthen.

A burst of sweetness finally filling the air.

"You mean that?" He ducks his head, chin to his chest, and body still a little tense.

But Charles will not budge. "I'll stay here all night and tell you how much you mean to me. How you're in my bloodstream. How we're inseparable. You and I, mon chaton." He throws in the sweet, playful nickname that usually has Max burying his face in Charles's scent gland.

But this time, the Omega bites down on his bottom lip, a furrow between his brows.

Silence for a few moments. And then—

"You said you hated it when people called you Charlie. That it was an ugly, annoying nickname." Max's voice wobbles. "That you didn't like being called that."

Charles blinks at Max for a moment, suddenly wondering where he heard that and who told him such nonsense when—

An interview.

Filmed years ago, likely when Charles was not media trained and in his first season at Sauber.

An American ESPN interviewer had asked him about nicknames and Charles couldn't very well say his favorite nickname was Max, pink-cheeked beneath him, crying out schatje! Schatje please, fill me up—I've been so good—!

At that time, he hadn't realized just how much he'd come to...like Max.

And want Max.

To want him in a way that made all of the Dutchman's little quirks and habits seem...endearing.

And sweet.

Like his habit of calling Charles "Charlie" while grinning at him with a smile that made his entire face scrunch up.

He has no idea when that sight became as precious to him as a podium win but—

Charles cups Max's jaw, thumb stroking his cheek, as he looks his Omega in the eye. "That was a stupid answer I gave for an interview, but it doesn't mean it's not true."

Max's face crumples, shoulders slumping with heartbreak but Charles shakes his head, pressing a quick kiss to Max's temple to recapture his love's Omega' sattention.

"I do dislike it when people call me Charlie. But I love it when you call me that, chéri."

Hope—sanguine and soft—fills those ocean blue eyes. "You do, schatje?"

"I do. I want to keep being your Charlie."

Max throws his arms around him, mouth suddenly eager for kisses, and Charles stumbles back half a step before hoisting Max up. The Omega wraps his legs around Charles's hips, soft purrs filling the summer air.

"My Charlie." He sighs happily. "All mine."

Yours.

The word appears in Charles's mind briefly—for less than half a second—but the very fact it appeared at all....

In his attempt to find success outside of F1, Logan had unintentionally pushed Oscar away as he agrees to all of Brooks Brothers PR demands. He’s excited and a little scared to say no because this is the biggest opportunity he’s ever gotten and he’s terrified to lose it.

(Some part of Logan also knows his time in F1 is limited—he knows this. And he just wants to make a name for himself before his career fades and fizzles out…he wants to be someone that Oscar can be proud of. Someone who can stand by his Alpha’s side and not embarrass him…someone who might be worthy of one of F1’s brightest new talents.)

But all this is subconscious—Logan hasn’t voiced any of it and instead, all Oscar gets is Logan cancelling dates, avoiding FaceTime, and telling the Alpha he won’t be home because of another show.

Another photoshoot.

Another party with people Oscar’s never met.

He tries to remain positive, to shut out the outside noise that’s hissing at him from all sides—that Logan’s happy to be away from Oscar, that he’s busy with new friends and new plans…

That Oscar has become someone from Logan’s past.

A memory—a relic.

The care packages he sends to Logan start to get returned more often than not because by the time the package arrives, Logan’s jetting off to another country.

The postcards Oscar sends (the same ones Logan used to love and kiss and keep in a scrapbook) are met with radio silence.

Everyone at McLaren avoids him, only speaking to Oscar when it's absolutely necessary. The Alpha's anguished, mournful scent is smothering—acrid and sour and so heavy with longing that it sends the team running in the opposite direction.

Lando tried to make a joke about it once or twice but the withering look he received from Oscar was enough to shut him up.

It isn't until Oscar accidentally drops his phone in the sink that he stares at the broken, wet screen and decides enough is enough. He needs to figure out some plan, coordinate some sort of schedule so he and Logan can make their relationship work. Oscar's always been pragmatic and sometimes, trying to come up with a rational solution hurts a lot less than ruminating on the fact your boyfriend may no longer want you.

So Oscar doesn't replace his phone.

Instead, he gets a work phone from McLaren and uses that instead. He can't distract himself—not now.

Not when Logan is on the line.

🧡💙🧡 💙🧡💙

Now the tables turn:

Logan doesn't realize it at first but when he wakes up for the second week in a row without a good morning text from Oscar, he realizes something is wrong.

He knows he hasn't been the most responsive boyfriend but the Omega just wanted to make sure everything with Brooks Brothers was locked down. That in case he was (inevitably) dropped from Williams, he'd have something to fall back on.

So that when Logan stood there behind the barriers, screaming Oscar's name as his Alpha (inevitably) won the championship, he wouldn't be embarrassed to claim Logan publicly.

He's kept every single postcard in a little scrapbook that he's hard since he and Oscar were kids. Logan had wanted to write back, to proudly post about how wonderful his boyfriend was but his new agent had told Logan he needed to be on the move.

Needed to save the "lovey dovey" stuff for later because right now, he needed to curate his feed and shape his image.

So Logan moved from country to country in between races, excited for the next brand deal but also feeling more hollow and empty than he's ever felt before.

Because his Oscie wasn't there.

Logan collected little souvenirs from every event and every trip with the intention of giving it them to his Alpha once he was back in Monaco but...

That just never happened.

And now, the Omega realizes with startling clarity, something was wrong with his Alpha.

Osc always texted Logan good morning.

No matter the country or the time zone.

Always.

Fear surges through the Omega as he tries to call Osc once, twice and—

No answer.

He tries to text him but he's met with radio silence.

Logan's heart rate picks up, he immediately goes to message Mae and ask if Oscar's back in Australia, if he's lost his phone, if—

Mae 🌸: Osc doesn't want to talk to you.

Logan stares at the single sentence his sweet Mae Flower has just texted him.

Cold.

Distant.

Dismissive.

Logan's eyes sting—his hand trembles as he texts back, as he tries to ask her what's wrong, is Oscar okay, Logan can fly back right now—

Mae 🌸: Don't pretend like you care.

Mae 🌸: You've hurt him enough.

And that's when the tears fall.

When the suppressed guilt floods through him like an avalanche. Fuck. He'd been selfish—he'd been so, so selfish hadn't he?

Not communicating with his Alpha?

Not trying to compromise or even tell Oscar what was going on?

Logan's behaved like a downright toxic boyfriend and now he's...he's...

Lost him.

The two words rattle through his skull until Logan swears he can't breathe.

Logan: I know I messed up, Mae. I've been horrible and neglectful and I treat and treasure Oscar the way he deserves.

Logan: But please, just tell me where he is. How I can contact him.

Logan: I need to apologize and make it up to him and tell Oscar he's the only one I've ever loved or needed or wanted.

Logan: Mae?

Logan: Mae, please. I'm sorry, this was my fault—I hurt Osc and I know I did but I'll make it up to him, I swear I'll make it up to him.

Mae 🌸: If you care about Oscar at all you'll get down on your knees and beg.

Logan: I will. I swear I will. Is he in Monaco? I'll fly there right now.

Mae 🌸: You want to make it up to him?

Logan: More than anything in the world.

Mae 🌸: More than your big, fancy modeling contracts Sargeant?

Logan: Every single brand could drop me right now and I wouldn't care. Oscar...he means more to me than any of that.

Logan: He's my heart, Mae.

Mae 🌸: If he means that much to you then figure out where he is.

Mae 🌸: And fix this train wreck you caused.

Logan: Thank you, Mae. Thank you. I promise, I'll make it up to him—I'll cherish Oscar and show him how much I love him every day. I will never, ever push him away again.

So not only do you have Max practically living between Charles's thighs every night (and morning...and afternoon...🤭) but he also takes the time to coordinate a big house party with Charles's family and closest childhood friends. He knows how difficult it is to gather everyone in a single location and even though the logistics of it nearly killed Max and his PA, they finally managed to wrangle everyone together at Max and Charles's penthouse.

Max ensured they were out all day: Shopping, sailing, visiting art galleries, and seeing a live theater performance. Charles was practically glowing with excitement when Max said he had one more surprise:

And opened the front door to Charles's loved ones gathered all in one place, yelling surprise!

Charles whipping around, tears in his eyes when Joris shouts out it was Max who planned everything.

He throws himself into his Alpha's arms, his scent so sweet and heavy Max can practically taste it on his tongue. Charles scenting him like crazy, kissing every inch of Max he can reach, but—

No purr.

Max clings to his Omega as tightly as he can. That's okay, he tells himself, he'll do better—Charles deserves the best. And Max wants to be the one who gives it to him.

There's the private, candle lit dinner at the Exotic Garden of Monaco. Victoria flew in to put together Charles's outfit and do his makeup in exchange for Max lending her the yacht for two weeks.

Charles (dressed in a stunning black Francesco Murano dress that was backless, high-necked in the front, and cut asymmetrically to show of Charles's toned and tanned legs) almost burst into tears because the Exotic Garden of Monaco was one of his papa's favorite places in the world. It'd been undergoing several renovations and hadn't been open to the public in years.

How did Max manage all this?

"Well, a few donations and some meetings with the city planners helped." The Alpha admitted sheepishly. "And...maybe some paddock passes for the urban planner involved with the redesign."

Charles's big doe eyes grow bright and shiny as the realization sinks in.

His Maxie had spent his limited free time on calls with the city council, had likely coordinated with the various committees in charge of the renovations, and pushed to make this happen...

Just for Charles.

"Max...oh Max, mon amour, I don't know what I ever did to deserve you but this..." He has to take a breath, his heart feeling so full Charles swears it might just burst with love. "This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. For papa. Mon cœur...I love you. I love you so, so much." His Omega's voice wobbles at the end as he pulls Max close, muscles rippling beneath the moonlight, and proceeds to kiss his Alpha senseless before the first course even arrives.

(Max is in such a perfect state of bliss that he can't stop growling, his chest rumbling as low vibrations fill the air. Charles giggles happily in his arms, always eager to lean in and feel the vibrations against his skin. But still—no purring. Max is disappointed but not deterred. He'll just try again.)

On and on it goes—

Outdoor movie nights where they're cuddled close, chocolate fondue nearby, and the cats piled around them like curious little clouds. Charles hums the sweetest lullaby and falls asleep against Max.

But no purring is heard.

A joint latte art class for couples where Max and Charles end up getting steamed milk and syrup everywhere, the two laughing when Max's "cat" looks like a fluffy white blob and Charles's "heart" results in spilled coffee and an overturned bag of coffee beans.

They're red-faced with laughter, barely able to catch their breath when Max's original, one-of-a-kind Red Bull Latte tastes both sour and bitter at the same time.

Charles laughingly puts a piece of milk chocolate in Max's mouth, insisting he doesn't want to taste Red Bull while kissing Max—

And the scent of a happy, contented Omega is so strong that the other couples have to leave the room.

But still.

No purring.

This goes on for close to four months before Max decides to hit the pause button, regroup, and plan his next mode of attack.

It's a lazy Sunday morning—a non-race weekend—and he's been cuddling his Omega since they both woke up, sleepy eyed and still a little hazy...but automatically reaching for one another.

Max keeps a pitcher of water by the nightstand and pours Charles a glass. The Omega returns the favor and kisses Max's bicep as he drinks.

Charles leans against the headboard and opens his arms for the Alpha to snuggle into. Because sometimes, Charles wants to be the one to hold Max and spoil his boyfriend with cuddles.

"Don't you want breakfast, schatje?" Max asks.

Charles pouts. "No, just want you in my arms, mon cœur. Maybe just another half hour?"

And—

How can Max resist?

He easily falls into Charles's arms, resting his cheek against his boyfriend's toned chest. He leans over, pressing a soft kiss to his sternum when—

Purrs, soft and silky smooth fill Max's ears.

He shoots up, blue eyes wide with shock and delight as Charles blinks rapidly, unsure of what's happening—unsure if this is what purring is because he's never done it before but—

"Charlie!" Max whisper-shouts. "Charlie, you're purring!"

And he is. His purrs are like a little V8 engine, like the best sound in the universe.

"You did it Maxie." Charles blinks, still purring. Unwilling to stop, not when he can finally purr.

Not when his boyfriend—his amazing, loving, devoted boyfriend—loved Charles enough to want to keep trying.

"I didn't do anything, schat." He cups his cheek. "I don't think my efforts really yielded any results."

Carlos reaching out one hand and helping Logan onto the drivers parade bus.

George refilling Logan's water bottle and bringing him a blueberry smoothie as well, just in case the Omega gets hungry.

Esteban pivoting questions to Logan to make the Omega feel welcome and included in group discussions.

Liam clearing a path for Logan to walk down so he doesn't get mobbed by F1 fans and newscasters.

All of them working in tandem to get Logan's attention before slowly, one by one, the gifts start to arrive.

Oscar doesn't really notice until one day, after a grueling series of back to back meetings ends early (one of the sponsor's planes malfunctioned and the meeting got pushed back to tomorrow), he realizes with a sudden jolt he hasn't seen Logan in almost two weeks.

He fumbles with his phone to see dozens of messages from his Omega that Oscar had left on read or only responded with series of emojis. He's been so mind numbingly busy that he hadn't realized how much time had gone by...

And how long it's been since he took care of his Omega.

Scented him, looked after him, kissed him and held him through the night.

Fuck. Oscar literally feels like the worst boyfriend to ever walk the earth. He realizes that it's half past 10, Logan is likely asleep, and Oscar's going to make it up to him.

He'll drive up to Nice with brunch and blankets and Logan's favorite flowers—they'll talk things out, Oscar will apologize, and he'll take the rest of his meetings at Logan's apartment. Maybe even scent his boyfriend while his camera's turned off and sneak in a few kisses too.

He's got the pancakes, the blue-and-orange nesting materials that Logan left over at his apartment half a year ago, the bouquet of sunflowers and daffodils (Logan's always loved brightly colored flowers) when he gets to Logan's apartment—

Only to see him walking out with a smiling Carlos Sainz. The Ferrari driver has one hand pressed against Logan's waist, guiding him down the front steps, and Logan is talking animatedly, hands gesticulating, laughter filling the air.

Right as he raises his right hand to point at something, Oscar realizes something.

Something horrible.

Because the silver and sapphire bracelet he gave Logan back in 2022 is not there.

The bracelet that announced to the world that Logan Hunter Sargeant was off the market.

Taken.

Claimed.

Oscar stumbles back, the basket and nesting materials spilling to the floor as he slides down to the ground, back pressed against a nearby residential building.

He knew he hadn't been treating Logan the way he deserved to be treated, that he failed to make time and put in effort but...

He and Logan were good, weren't they?

They knew how busy they'd get and how it was their rookie season but things would get better...?

Fumbling blindly, Oscar pulls out his phone and texts Lando.

Oscar: What's Carlos doing with my Logan?

Lando: ????

Lando: mate, be serious

Oscar: I am being completely serious. I just saw them leaving Logan's apartment.

Lando: ok don't really think it's ur business tho??

Oscar: Logan is my intended. I'm courting him, what Carlos is doing is a violation of common decency.

Lando: ....hold on i need to call u

Oscar's phone rings and he doesn't hesitate to pick up.

"Explain to me what your ex-teammate is doing with my boyfriend. Because if this is some sort of mind game Sainz is playing, then I'll tell the FIA. I'll report it. Inserting yourself into an active courtship is a violation of the FIA regulations and—"

"Mate. Osc. You need to shut up for five minutes because right now, you sound insane."

"I sound insane?" Oscar is incredulous. "What are you—?"

"You ended your courtship with Logan weeks ago."

"I'm sorry?"

"Yeah." Lando sounds like he's shifting around in his seat. "You, like, really neglected him and stuff. Everyone knew it. They were just waiting until you pulled the plug."

"I didn't pull anything." Oscar feels like he's been thrown into the ocean during a thunderstorm.

Even his own voice sounds faint and half-there.

"Oh shit, Sargeant was the one who ended it?" Lando sounds amused and vaguely impressed. "Good for him. No offense Osc, you kind of treated him like shit."

"I didn't...didn't mean to. I was...I mean...this is Logan. My Logan."

"Yeah..." Lando trails off awkwardly. "Sorry about that but um, he's not really your anything anymore."

"I—"

"Hang on, can I call you back? I'm dog sitting Leo and Nino right now and they need to get fed. Good luck, mate!"

Lando hangs up.

Oscar drops his phone, not caring if it cracks or breaks.

Logan.

His Logan is gone.

The Omega bites back a smile. "Are you worried I'll run off with someone very famous, chéri?" He teases.

"Not particularly."

Charles frowns, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "Oh. Well, fine. That's...fine. Good night Mr. Verstappen—" He tries to make a dramatic exit but is stopped by Max.

His large, rough hand grips Charles's wrist and he easily spins the Omega back into his arms.

Sapphire eyes, mature features, laugh lines around the mouth. Charles hates how handsome Max is—handsome and rugged and everything he's ever wanted.

"You're under the assumption I'd let you run off at all." Max muses with a faint smirk.

"Let me? You think you can let me do anything, Max Verstappen?" Charles should sound indignant but instead, he's breathless, pupils dilated, and wrapping his arms around the Alpha's neck.

He sounds turned on and a little needy and Charles hates how Max knows it.

"I'll see you in 72 hours, schat."

"Don't hold your breath."

🎀🐣🎀 🎀🐣🎀 🎀🐣🎀

Lily Verstappen sobs her little heart out when she wakes up the next morning and her nanny greets her instead of Cha.

She runs out of the nursery, dodges several house staff, and bursts into her papa's office while still in the pink princess nightgown Cha bought her.

One look at his teary-eyed little angel and Max is on his feet, scooping Lily up, and kissing her soft cheeks, asking what's wrong, what happened, papa will make it all better.

"Want Cha!" Lily bawls, her tiny fists latching onto her papa's pristine white button-up. "Want Cha and brunch and kisses from my Cha and papa!"

"Oh mijn prinses, come here." His voice is so soft and gentle as he rubs his daughter's back with one hand. The patience and affection radiating off of him is worlds away from Max's former reputation in F1 and current reputation in the business world.

Mad Max is nowhere to be seen.

The Dutch Lion who's built an empire out of racing is not present.

Instead, the doting single father cuddles his only child closer. "I know you want Cha," he murmurs softly, "but you'll see him in a few days. Three days." He takes one of her small, chubby hands and taps her little fingertips. "See? One, two, three. Just three days, prinses. And our Cha will be back." He kisses the top of her messy blonde curls.

But his baby girl lets out a little whimper. A soft sniffle.

And when she looks up at him, trying to hold back tears as her bottom lip wobbles, Max feels his heart break.

"Prinses..."

"W-want Cha, papa." She hiccups tearfully. "Want Cha now." Lily hides her face against her father's chest, shoulders shaking as she sobs into her father's ruined dress shirt.

Max closes his eyes briefly.

There's nothing he wouldn't give Lily...especially if their interests align perfectly.

Angel girl, Max wants to chuckle, and a true Verstappen. Neither of us can stay away from our Cha, can we?

🎀🐣🎀 🎀🐣🎀 🎀🐣🎀

It's only through years of training, practice, and a strong burst of stubbornness that Charles doesn't recoil from the male model who's been assigned as his co-star in the campaign. He's forced to act sultry and seductive in front of the camera when all he wants to do is run back to his hotel and FaceTime his Alpha and their baby girl.

Not that Charles would ever admit that out loud. But the day has been so trying and difficult that he can't be bothered to pretend anymore—his head hurts, his feet ache, and his heart feels hollow.

He hasn't been able to reach Max for the past 12 hours. He's broken his own rule of never texting first and instead humbled himself to send voice messages, photos, and half a dozen voicemails asking Max if they were okay.

If something happened.

If Charles can still—

He hadn't been able to finish the last voicemail. His voice was shaky and he was lightheaded with anxiety and fear.

He never thought landing his dream campaign could be so miserable.

Right as he's getting ready to go through another wardrobe change, he smells it—

That dark, musky, oakwood and bourbon scent Charles would know anywhere.

He doesn't hesitate.

Without another word, Charles walks past the photographer, the on-set assistants, the lighting crew and assistant directors to come face to face with a slightly tired looking Max Verstappen.

Still dressed in his formal suit only this time, it's rumpled, stained with what looks like grape juice on the sleeve, but to Charles, it's the best sight in the entire world.

Especially when Max bends down and picks up a tiny blonde haired, blue eyed angel who eagerly kicks her tiny feet and yells out Cha! for every single member of the crew to hear.

He doesn't even realize he's running towards his family until he's collapsing into Max's chest, one arm around his Alpha's waist and the other around his little love.

"Cha! We came to visit!" Lily chrips out happily.

According to quite a few little birds, it appears that a Mr. George Russell was photographed entering one of Shanghai's VIP-only nightclubs late in the evening...with his shirt on. Not long after, a certain Danny Ric waltzed right in with a group of hotshot athletes by his side—including one Max Verstappen.

After all, aren't the most illict affairs made under the cover of night?

You know you love me, xoxo 💋

💫🌃🤫 💫🌃🤫 💫🌃🤫

mon lion 🦁: Charlie? Please pick up schatje

mon lion 🦁: Baby? Are you alright?

mon lion 🦁: Turn on your location, Charles.

mon lion 🦁: Please. I just need to make sure you're okay

mon lion 🦁: Fuck, GP just showed me the photos

mon lion🦁: I know how bad it looks but you have to believe me when I say nothing happened. Danny took us to the club to blow off some steam but I was ready to leave after an hour because it wasn't the same without you

mon lion 🦁: I was walking out of the club when I ran into Russell and spilled my g&t all over him. He got all upset about the shirt thing because I guess it was a gift from Albon

mon lion 🦁: He took it off and demanded I pay for dry cleaning

mon lion 🦁: I shoved him back and told him to get the fuck out of my way because I was flying back to Monaco to see you

mon lion 🦁: Danny, Lando, and Oscar then pulled us apart and I'm on my plane now

mon lion 🦁: Please baby

Me: you expect me to just believe there was nothing more going on? that he wouldn't want you? my handsome, talented max?

Me: how stupid do you think i am? everyone wants you but you are mine and i hate everyone you've ever kissed

Me: prove it

mon lion 🦁: Anything, I'll do anything you want Charlie

💫🌃🤫 💫🌃🤫 💫🌃🤫

[Video Description: Monaco nightclub. Neon lights, thumping bass, sleek black furniture and plenty of handsome men and gorgeous women swaying to the beat. But the most stunning of them all? Charles Leclerc, dressed in an iconic 2000s Julien Macdonald silver-and-diamond mini dress that sparkles and shimmers under the atmospheric lights. He twirls his hips, arms raised, eyes closed as he dances and moves to the beat, seemingly unconcerned with who's watching.]

gossipgridxoxo Heartbreak where? Certainly not here! Ferrari princess Charles Leclerc showed the world just how much fun he's having when, just a day after the #RusstappenLeak, the gorgeous Monegasque beauty sashayed to the nearest Monaco nightclub and proceeded to dance with princes, tycoons, and heirs to some of the greatest modern empires today.

But what's more scandalous than a solo night out while wearing one of the most #iconic outfits of the decade?

Knowing that Max Verstappen was on stream with Team Redline that same night, gushing about how much he's missed "his Charlie" and couldn't wait to see him again.

Is the Dutch Lion juggling two F1 drivers, or is he simply cheating on one with the other?

Whatever the case, it looks like CL16 just won this round.

You know you love me, xoxo 💋

💫🌃🤫 💫🌃🤫 💫🌃🤫

Me: miss me mon cœur?

Me: bet you do

Me: bet you miss me lots and lots and lostsss s sss

mon lion 🦁: I'm sorry for the late reply, just got off with the guys from Redline

mon lion 🦁: Charlie? Are you drunk? Do you need me to pick you up?

Me: bartendr said im so prettty . the prettiest!

mon lion 🦁: He's not exactly saying anything groundbreaking

mon lion 🦁: But you are drunk, I'm coming to pick you up

Me: no!

Me: still dancinggg

Me: but i have no one to danc ewith ☹️

mon lion 🦁: I'll dance with you all night long, but right now you need water, sleep, and Advil in the morning

mon lion 🦁: I'll be there in 5 minutes

Lewis and the pretty young blond frolicking around the beach?? Lewis hoisting him up in his arms and spinning him around?? Dinners at sunset on the deck of his yacht where anyone with a camera phone can snap a photo (or seven)?

And while Lewis and his boyfriend never made any formal red carpet appearances, the 7-time world champion was spotted spending millions on designer clothes for the petite blond who seemed determined to buy out the inventory of every boutique they entered.

And then, after two weeks of nonstop content, Lewis goes radio silent and the Nico Rosberg lookalike vanishes into thin air.

People (including Lewis's fans) think that it was just a fling, some kind of dizzying midlife crisis that involved spending a lot of money and trying to recapture his glory days with a certain 2016 world champion.

But then:

[Image Description: A photo of Lewis and Nico taken from a telescopic lens. They're on the balcony of Lewis's penthouse, the Alpha is sitting on a plush deck chair while Nico straddles him, thighs bracketing Lewis's hips. Nico has one hand raised, fingertip brushing Lewis's temple. Lewis has his head tilted up, hands pressed against Nico's naked lower back, as if ready to lean up and steal a kiss from his ex-teammate right then and there.]

gossipgridxoxo Spotted: Lewis Hamilton with another blond beauty—although this time, we can safely deduce his identity. After his whirlwind romance with a stunningly gorgeous Omega (who, in this author's opinion, bears a striking resemblance to 2011 Nico Rosberg), the 7-time world champion has decided that even after all this time, nothing compare's to the original.

You heard it here first: Lewis Hamilton, clutching Nico Rosberg against him, hands all over, ready to kiss and claim the Omega whose name he swore to never say out loud again.

Can this newfound liaison last? Or will Nico find himself as the (older) rebound while Lewis pines away for his young blond fling?

You know you love me, xoxo 💋

User1 Holy shit, is Lewis okay??

User2 Look, I usually mind my business, keep my side of the street clean, but @/lewishamilton needs a therapist because there are other Omegas that exist, you're not confined to Nico + Nico clones 😭😭

User3 ijbol at this pap pic bc lewis really said "don't talk to me unless ur a blonde omega w big tits + blue eyes + a penchant for designer clothes" 🤣

User4 I think Ferrari's broken Lewis if he's running back to his ex after all this time

User5 man I want to snark on you so bad but tbh I agree with this assessment @/User4

User4 🫡 Need to give credit to Leclerc for staying with the shit show that is Ferrari and somehow keeping his sanity intact (mostly) @/User5

User6 why is everyone being so cynical? i think it's really cute that there's such a thing as cosmic love & even after all this time, two people can find their way back to one another 💫🔮

User7 I don't think people are trying to be malicious but Lewis going all in with some 20 year old influencer screams midlife crisis. My personal opinion? That influencer dumped Lewis after getting all that free publicity and this sent Lewis into a tailspin so now he's chasing after his ex (Nico) to soothe his bruised ego @/User6

User6 i think that's a very cynical way of looking at things @/User7 maybe lewis realized (after dating the 20 yr old) that he actually has a deeper connection with nico and should focus on repairing that relationship instead of chasing after "influencers" he barely knows?

User8 Not reading all the other comments but judging from this one photo, LH and NR look really cute... just hope LH doesn't ditch NR for a "younger, prettier" model 😞

⏳⏳⏳ ⏳⏳⏳ ⏳⏳⏳

[Image Description: Posted on Lewis's official Instagram account. The 7-time F1 world champion dressed in a 3-piece black velvet tuxedo, embroidered with silver thread, and finished with a black velvet cape, proudly posing with a radiant Nico Rosberg. They're on the red carpet at the New York Met Gala and while Lewis is absurdly handsome, it's Nico who steals the show in an ethereal diaphanous white ballgown. The long sleeves almost touch the floor while the beaded pearl-and-diamond corset cinches in Nico's slim waist before flowing out in a sea of white chiffon. Detailed pearl beadwork covers the throat and neck, making Nico look like a moon princess. Atop his head he wears small diamond and platinum tiara that has a long, cascading veil that sparkles and glitters trailing behind him. The theme of the Met Gala? Cosmic Love.]

lewishamilton Thank you #AnnaWintour for the invitation to celebrate the Met Gala's recent exhibition of some truly trascendent pieces of art depicting True Love in all its forms.

And thank you to my @/nicorosberg for being the only masterpiece I ever want to see.

User1 .......I am so, so confused.......

User2 what's there to be confused about? @/User1

User1 I thought Lewis was mourning his relationship with that young blond Omega?? The Nico lookalike??

User3 idk man why have a lookalike when you have the real thing?

User2 do u think we'll ever learn who that young blond influencer was? he was really cute

User4 Somehow, I think that's one mystery we're never solving @/User2

nicorosberg Mein schatz @/lewishamilton ♥️ all mine!