Summer Daze | J.M.

Right Timing | Charles Leclerc

Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx

this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!

Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)

Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.

11.1k words

Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world. 

He's your best friend.

Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book. 

She was his best friend. 

—

How it started:

A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.

“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”

And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.

He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.

But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.

Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.

It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.

Their friendship only bloomed from there…

After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.

When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.

Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.

He didn't catch you in time. 

Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.

Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.

Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years. 

Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.

Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.

You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2. 

Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.

Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?

You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually. 

“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.

Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.

You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend. 

Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.

And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.

Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.

And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.

This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.

You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.

“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.

You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.

“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”

“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway. 

“It's not that big of a deal-”

“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.

“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.

“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”

“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.

His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.

“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”

You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.

“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”

That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-

“She said let go mate.”

Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.

“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”

That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.

“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.

“Arthur-”

“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc. 

You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face. 

However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.

As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”

You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.

He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.

“Don't tell me you've lost-”

“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.

“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.

“Dont.”

“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.

After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.

“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.

He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.

You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.

On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car. 

It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.

The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.

Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.

The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.

He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,

“You're going to get a cold.”

You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.

“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.

“I'm okay.”

The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.

“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.

“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.” 

“Charlie…”

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.

Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.

“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.

“I know.” Charles whispered back.

“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.” 

Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible. 

“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.

Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh. 

“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”

After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.

“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.

“I know, I know.”

You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.

“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.

“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.

On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…

Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.

He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.

Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around. 

You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.

“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.

“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.

“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.

“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.

“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.

“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”

“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.

“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.

“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”

Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse. 

You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.

Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit. 

But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.

Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest. 

You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked. 

The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore. 

Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.

You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.

You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.

“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.

“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.

“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year. 

“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.

“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.

You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”

Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.

A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball. 

She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.

You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.

He really didn't want you. 

“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”

“You knew?”

Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.

You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.

“What about me? When will I be happy?”

You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.

That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. 

You needed to actually move on. 

So that's what you did.

And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.

Lando norris.

He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.

He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.

It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.

“y/n?”

“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.

“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?” 

“Yep.”

Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him. 

“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.

But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.

“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.

“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.

You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him. 

But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.

“y/n?” 

Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.

Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.

Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours. 

“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.

“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed. 

“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.

“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.

“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.

Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.

Charles hated him. 

Charles hated himself for his feelings.

He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words. 

It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?

He broke up with Charlotte a month later.

Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.

Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.

His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.

“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.

“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight. 

“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Maman.” Charles sighed.

“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.

“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.

“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”

Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.

“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”

“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.

“Do you love her?”

“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.

“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”

Charles nodded his head.

His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do. 

And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper. 

She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies. 

She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.

“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”

And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.

Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.

Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.

But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.

No call.

Not even a text.

He had fully let you slip from his grasp.

It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.

He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.

After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.

“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.

Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.

“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.

“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.

“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.

Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.

“They broke up, a while ago actually.”

Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.

“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.

“She's not even in the country charles.”

Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”

Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.

“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.

Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.

“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother. 

You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.

“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.

“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.

“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.

“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.

Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”

“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”

Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.

“Say it arthur.”

The flame was lit.

“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.

“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.

“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.

Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.

“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest. 

“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.

Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening. 

No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-

“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”

“Arthur-”

“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”

Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.

“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”

Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.

“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.

Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.

“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”

Charles felt awful.

Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.

It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.

He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend. 

It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.

He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.

He was an awful person, he thought.

When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.

He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”

“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”

“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.

“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.

“alot .” lorezono chucked.

“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.

“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word. 

“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”

“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.

“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”

You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.

You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.

You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.

Pick it up.

Pick it up.

You couldn't do it.

Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.

He had called you?

You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.

You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.

You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.

Ringing.

“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.

“Charles?”

You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.

“I'm sorry.”

He's sorry?

“Charles-”

“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”

“It's- it's okay.” 

You forgave him.

“It's not.”

There was a silence that lingered for a moment.

“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.

“I want to see you.”

More silence.

“Please, y/n.”

“Okay.”

More silence.

“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.

“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto. 

Soon.

“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.

“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”

“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him. 

Silence.

Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.

“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.

“I'll see you soon charlie.”

This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.

“y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I too late?’

“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.

Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?

But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.

You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.

Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.

You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.

You had missed this.

And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.

Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.

“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.

“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.

Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.

“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”

You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.

You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless. 

You felt vulnerable.

So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.

You were going to see him.

Your time was up.

You were ready.

You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.

Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.

“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.

“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.

“I think the time away did you good, no?”

“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.

“I dont think so.”

“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.

“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.

You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”

“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.

“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”

“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”

“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”

That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him

being the love of your life up yet.

You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.

When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.

You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.

The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.

You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.

You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you. 

“Hey.” he smiled.

“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.

“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”

“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.

“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.” 

Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”

You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.

“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”

You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.

“I'm happy for you landini.”

You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.

“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.

“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.

You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”

“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”

Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.

His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock. 

As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.

Charles.

He didn't seem too happy though.

He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.

There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively. 

He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.

“Charles, wait!”

And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.

“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.

You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.

“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”

“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.

“Charles?”

“yes!”

A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.

“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.

“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.

“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.

“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.

“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”

“y/n?!”

Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.

“Jorris, oh thank god!”

“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.

“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.

“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.

“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.

“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.

Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.

And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.

Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.

“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”

“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.

“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.

“That's not what I meant by sweet.”

Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.

You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.

You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.

Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.

“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.

“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.

“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.

Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.

“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.

Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.

If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.

He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.

He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.

“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.

“What?” he huffed.

“She waited.”

“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention. 

Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.

You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.

“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled. 

Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot. 

He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.

He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate. 

Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again. 

“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.

“I've always been yours…”

Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹

---

Pretty When You Cry

Tangerine x f!reader

cross-posted on ao3

summary: Tangerine has a tendency of dropping back into your life at the most unexpected times. An incredibly frustrating habit, considering your efforts to forget him after you woke up to find him gone the first time you slept with him. No matter how hard you try to let him go - and how hard he tries to avoid his own feelings - something always brings the two of you back to each other.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: canon-typical violence, no use of y/n, smut (minors DNI), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, excessive use of the word fuck, porn with a little plot

a/n: this started out as an idea I had been sitting on for a while, but I gave up fighting the itch in my brain to write for Tangerine. I may take the concept and expand on the story with a series, but for now enjoy some good ol' smut.

You step into the warm night air, the loud music of the club becoming muted by the walls. Your head spins as you lean against the brick. You’re burning up and the fresh air is a pleasant change from the thick, hot air inside. Sighing, you pull out a box of cigarettes and place one between your lips. You fumble with the lighter for a moment before you light the cigarette. You don’t usually smoke, but fuck you were feeling stressed. You’d finally agreed to go out with your coworker Carter, who’d been pestering you for a date for a while now. You thought it might be a good way to get your mind off of someone else. Unfortunately, you hadn’t expected him to bring you to a loud-ass club for a first date.

As you take a drag, the smoke swirls inside your lungs, making you feel light and dizzy. You tilt your head back against the wall and close your eyes as you exhale the musty cloud of smoke. You could feel the edge melting away from your nerves.

“Those things will kill you, ya know.” A familiar voice appears beside you.

“Fuck!” you jump, dropping the cigarette on the ground. You look up to see an even more familiar pair of eyes. Tangerine stands before you, arms crossed as he fixes you with a look that you don't recognize. He’s uncharacteristically dressed down tonight, wearing only dark gray slacks with a white button-up, the sleeves already rolled up. You try not to let your gaze linger on his tattooed arms. Why is he here? You were doing your absolute best to get him off your fucking mind, and yet here he is.

“What the fuck brings you here?” He slurs. The smell of alcohol on his breath is strong and it catches you by surprise. You’ve never really seen him drunk. Not like this, at least. 

“I could ask you the same fucking thing,” you shoot back. He has a lot of audacity to show up here. You would be shocked at his ability to track you down had you not known just who he was. He has his ways, not to mention an incredibly frustrating tendency to end up in the same places as you. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

“I don’t,” you reply flatly.

“Then what was that?” He points to the still-smoking cigarette you dropped.

“A distraction, maybe,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wall. “You’re drunk, Tan, drunker than me.”

Tangerine laughs and runs a hand through his slick curls. “What are you runnin’ from, love?” His demeanor softens and he turns to lean on the wall beside you. Even now you still feel so small under his gaze.

“Oh fuck off,” you groan back. He chuckles again and you feel agitation stir within you.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He really is drunker than you.

“Why do you have so many fucking questions?” you snap. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Got another?” He motions to the cigarette on the ground.

“What happened to ‘those things will kill you’,” you mock his words from earlier as you pull another from the box for him.

“You might not smoke, love,” He says in a low voice as he places the cigarette between his lips, “but you know that isn’t the case for me.” He dips down slightly so you can light it for him, something you’ve done many times before. The close proximity of his face to yours sets off alarms in your brain. As you flick the lighter, his eyes shift up to yours and his cerulean gaze bores into you, making your skin prickle as you stand under his large frame. When the cigarette is finally lit, he straightens back up to lean on the wall. You watch as he takes a long drag before taking the cigarette between his ring-clad fingers and exhaling the smoke. Silence fills the space between you, only the sound of the music thumping inside can be heard. After a moment, you push yourself off of the wall and turn to walk back inside, trying not to stumble as you make your way to the door.

 “Where are you going?” you feel his large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back towards him.

“Well, you made me drop my cigarette, Tangerine. I don’t have any reason to be out here now,” you tell him, refusing to look at him. “Carter is probably wondering where I am anyway.”

“Don’t.” The tone of his voice causes you to falter. It’s unfamiliar, something you can't place. Not quite demanding, but not quite begging. 

“I’m just going inside,” you huff and pull your wrist from his grip. Just as you turn to walk away again, his arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest. You reach for his biceps to steady yourself. “Tan. You’re drunk,” you whispered.

“So are you.” His voice is raspy in your ear. You hesitate for a moment as you search his face. You couldn’t do this again, but god damn was it difficult to pull yourself away. Ultimately, you follow your better judgment as your hands come up to his chest and gently push him from you. He stays silent, watching as you turn back towards the door and head inside. The blaring music takes over once again as you push through the bodies and to the bar. Tangerine’s words echo in your mind as you take a seat. You sigh.

“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Double vodka cran.” He nods and busies himself with your drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Tangerine’s voice comes from behind you. You roll your eyes.

“You think you can go five minutes without questioning my decisions?” you retort. Tangerine chuckles again, taking the seat next to you. “I’m trying to fucking enjoy myself.” He doesn’t reply, instead ordering himself a drink when the bartender brings yours over.

“Hey!” Oh fuck. You hear Carter’s voice and look up to see him getting up from a table and heading in your direction. Running into Tangerine on your little smoke break has caused you to nearly forget that you even came here with him and you feel a bit guilty as he approaches the bar. “I thought I’d lost you for a moment th-” He stops when he notices Tangerine. “Is he bothering you?”

“No, we were just talking. I know him. It’s fine.” you wave your hand dismissively and take a sip of your drink, feeling the alcohol burn your throat.

“Yeah I know you do, he’s the fuckin’ asshole from the party.” Of course he remembers, Tangerine wasn’t even supposed to be there that night. He and Lemon had barged back into your life again, asking you to help sneak them into some fancy party that your job was catering for. You’d dressed them up as waiters and gotten them inside to do god knows what. Carter was none the wiser, assuming they were simply extra hands hired for the event. Until, of course, Tangerine’s inability to keep his mouth shut nearly started a fight with Carter. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Carter says, putting a hand on your back. The gesture sends icicles up your spine and you fight the urge to recoil under his touch.

“What? No, I said it was fine.” You look up at him, furrowing your brow a bit.

“And I said let’s go, don’t make this difficult.” He says harshly. What the fuck.

“Excuse me?” you set your drink down.

“She doesn’t want to go,” By now Tangerine is standing up and putting himself between the two of you. Carter scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking your wrist in his hand.

“Fuck off,” he hisses at Tangerine. You try to snatch your wrist back, but his grip is stronger than you expected.

“I don’t have to go anywhere with you!” You’re raising your voice now. You can feel Tangerine’s anger brewing without even looking at him. He’s practicing excellent restraint right now, but you know him well enough to feel the anger rolling off of him. 

“Listen,” Carter starts, “I’m not going to sit here and let you whore around with every dude at this bar.” Before you can even fully register what he said, Tangerine’s fist is colliding with his jaw, knocking him back.

You stand up, your barstool falling over as you back away from the two men. Carter puts a hand to his jaw, looking up angrily at Tangerine before rushing forward and slamming him against the bar. Tangerine’s arm hits the drinks and sends them to shatter on the floor.

Carter draws back and punches Tangerine in the face, his other hand holding onto Tangerine’s collar. Tangerine grabs Carter’s shoulders, slamming his forehead into the other man’s nose. The sudden impact causes Carter to stumble back and Tangerine takes the opportunity to shift their position so that he’s the one holding Carter against the bar. His knuckles are white as he grips Carter’s shirt, his curls breaking loose from their slicked-back position and falling in his face as he rears back and punches him again. He punches him a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth…

“Tangerine! Stop, that’s enough!” you yell. By now people had noticed the fight. Two men quickly approach the three of you. Shit. One of them reaches Tangerine, who was now on his seventh punch, and pulls him off of Carter. The other one grabs Carter off the bar, his face bruised and bloody. You follow them as they drag the angry, panting men to the door.

“God dammit!” Carter yells as he recovers from being thrown outside. He lunges for Tangerine, who’s already prepared to catch Carter’s weight. He pivots them around, pinning Carter against the brick, his forearm pressing into his neck.

“Unless you’re not particularly fond of havin’ your arms attached to the rest of ya, I’d fuck right off if I were you,” he threatens in a low voice. He holds him there silently for a moment more, eyes wide and burning, waiting for a chance to make good on his threat. Carter finally nods, shoving Tangerine off of him and gathering himself up. 

“He’s fuckin’ crazy,” he says looking at you. “Fuck both of you.” He throws his hands up as he backs away for a moment, then turns to leave.

Tangerine watches him round the corner, waiting until he’s completely out of sight before turning back to you. 

You aren’t even sure how to process what just happened and you fight the tears threatening to well up in your eyes because you’re drunk and this isn’t how your night was supposed to go. 

“Are you alright, love?” Tangerine asks, hands grabbing your face gently. His thumb strokes over your cheekbone as he searches your eyes and gives you a slight once-over. You close your eyes and nod. “Let’s get out of here.” He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him as he leads you off toward his car without a glance back.

“I’m not mad,” you break the silence as you sit in the passenger seat of his car. He clenches his fists around the thin steering wheel, sobered by the fight and rush of adrenaline.

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with sayin’ some shit like that to you,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.

“I know,” you say softly. 

“Why’d you even agree to go out with that prick anyway?” 

“I’d never heard him say anything like that before. He’s always so nice at work, or at least he seemed like it. He’d been interested for a while, but I kept brushing him off. I don’t know, it didn’t seem smart to go out with my coworker.” You know that part is a lie and you’re not sure if Tangerine sees through it because he doesn’t respond. “I finally just agreed because…” you pause, not wanting to tell him that the reason you agreed to go out with Carter was because you would have done anything to get Tangerine out of your brain, “it doesn’t matter.”

He looks over at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Well darling, you have absolutely awful taste in men,” he finally says in a playful tone that makes you laugh for the first time tonight.

“Do you think you could stop at a gas station? I need a drink or something,” You feel the fog beginning to clear from your head and you really don’t want to face the impending headache.

“Yeah, of course. Could use a pack of smokes anyway, rather than bummin’ ‘em off of you,” He says as he searches for a place to stop.

The hum of the engine comes to an abrupt stop and Tangerine pulls the keys from the ignition. He looks over at you. “You comin’?” He asks. You nod and give him a small smile before he exits the vehicle. Neon lights dance across the damp pavement and draw your attention to the flickering sign above the convenience store as you step out. You're surprised at the number of people at the store at such a late hour, and the way they lean against their cars and eye Tangerine suspiciously gives you an unsettled feeling. He looks rather disheveled and it doesn’t help that his knuckles are bloody and busted. You look like a mess as well you’re sure and there’s a bruise forming on your arm where Carter grabbed you. The jingle of a tiny bell snaps you out of your thoughts and you see that Tangerine is holding the door for you. You mumble a low “sorry” and he continues inside. The cool air hits you as you follow him quietly.

You head for the drinks in the back and swing open the cooler door. The chill air feels good on your flushed face and you take it in for a moment, taking a deep breath in your attempt to gather yourself. You settle on some flavored water. Closing the door, you make your way through the fluorescently lit aisles, back to Tangerine’s side. Your head is still swimming from the drinks but you can feel sobriety reaching through. You stand silently beside him in line until you hear someone clear their throat behind you. When you turn to look, a man is looking Tangerine up and down with a suspicious look. You know he’s noticed the bruise on your arm and the way your makeup has started to run.

“Are you good?” He asks quietly, trying not to draw Tangerine’s attention. He hears him anyway, but before he can open his mouth with a snarky reply, you answer.

“Yeah, I am now,” you say softly, leaning a bit closer to Tangerine as you shift your gaze up to him and offer a smile. He feels a swell of pride in his chest at your words, thankful that you beat him to speaking, since he would’ve just told the guy to fuck off and mind his business.

The two of you reach the front of the line and Tangerine takes your water from you, placing it on the counter. You observe the way he moves as he talks to the cashier, his gold pendant glinting against his chest almost obscenely, the way his muscles shift under his buttoned shirt as he reaches into his pocket for his wallet, how the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles and -

“You coming, love?” He asks you, pocketing a pack of Marlboro Reds and handing you your water as he reaches for the door handle. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you say and follow him out, hoping you don't appear as flustered as you feel. You don't see the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. You are once again greeted by the humid air but you don’t mind. There’s a lack of words between the two of you after what happened tonight and you can’t seem to tell if it’s good or bad. It frustrates you that you struggle so much to read him. What’s even more frustrating than that is how much it seems to get under your skin that you can’t. Since when did you care about trying to read people? Since you ended up in sketchy gas stations at almost four in the morning with a contract killer, you remind yourself.

“You’re being awfully quiet, darling.” Tangerine’s words catch you off guard as he starts the car again.

“I just… don’t have anything to say,” you shrug, watching him fumble with the radio. It’s true. You were desperate to get your mind off of him, but the night took an unexpected turn and now you're here. With him. He doesn’t say anything, instead opting to switch off the radio and turn around to back out of the parking space.

The city lights pass by in blurry gleams of color. There is truly no calm here, you think as life still bustles about despite the time of night. Your mind wanders back to Tangerine. The way he found his way to you still tonight. You know that none of it would have happened if he hadn't shown up, but you're glad nonetheless. Carter wasn't someone you wanted around, and truthfully you were never interested in him. You know, that despite being unwilling to actually admit it to yourself, a part of you hoped Tangerine would be jealous. You also know that given the circumstances, whatever it was you felt for Tangerine, wasn't realistic. It was stupid and you knew it. 

“Shit,” Tangerine’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look away from the window, "missed the bloody exit." The green of the exit sign illuminates his face as you pass under it, almost taunting him.

“Maybe you should pay more attention when you're driving,” you tease. He looks at you but doesn’t speak. It’s quiet the rest of the way back to your apartment. 

Tangerine pulls into a parking spot and turns off the car. You begin to thank him for the ride, expecting him to simply drop you off, but he gets out and heads towards the stairs.

“Walking me to the door? How sweet,” you say teasingly as you step out of the car.

“Jus' wanna make sure you're safe,” he mutters, looking past you. You only nod, understanding what he doesn't say. 

When you unlock the door, you stand quietly for a moment, not sure if he intends to leave or come inside. He looks at you with an unreadable expression before speaking.

“I guess I should be off then, I’m sure Lemon’s probably wonderin’ where the fuck I am right now.” You feel a twinge of disappointment but you nod, knowing it's best if he leaves.

“Thank you, for, well, you know. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s always a pleasure havin’ the opportunity to rough some bastard up a bit,” he jests.

“Of course it is. Goodnight Tangerine, thanks for getting me home.” You smile and shut the door the moment he turns to walk away, not wanting to watch him leave for another time.

You stand there with your hands on the door for a minute, your mind reeling with the events of the night as a flood of emotion hits you. First, a wave of affection for Tangerine, the way he leapt to your defense without a second thought. A pang of sadness follows, knowing you have fallen for a man with walls so high you’d never manage to scale them, a dangerously unhinged man that fell out of the fucking sky and right into your life. Then finally, anger washes over you. Anger for showing up tonight, when you just wanted to move on. Anger for leaving you to wake up alone after you fucked him, for making you fall in love with him all while knowing he’d keep you an arm’s length away. Anger that despite all of this, he just keeps showing back up in your life. In your heated frenzy, you reach for the door handle, hoping to catch him before he drives away, fully prepared to tell him off. You swing the door open but are taken completely by surprise to see Tangerine standing on the other side. He seems surprised too, not expecting you to fling open the door while he stood there still. 

“You been standing there like a fucking dickhead this entire time?” You ask, crossing your arms. He gives you a defeated look.

“Couldn’t bring myself to fuckin’ knock. Couldn’t bring myself to just fuckin’ walk away either.” You watch him for a moment before deciding he’s being sincere and step aside to usher him in.

“Why’d you even fucking show up tonight, Tan?” You demand, closing the door behind him. He exhales deeply, his back still to you. 

“I had no intention of showin’ up. I knew you were out with that tosser and the fuckin’ bottle got the best of me, darling. Next thing I know I’m gettin’ in the fuckin’ car because I couldn’t stand to think about you with that prick for one more fuckin’ second.” He finally turns to face you. His raw honesty is something new to you, usually, you’re left trying to piece what little bit he gives you together like some fucked up emotional jigsaw. 

“I should’ve never agreed to go out with him,” you admit, meeting his eyes. “I just,” you draw in a breath, “I couldn’t get you off of my goddamn mind. I thought if I went out with him, then it’d take my mind off of you.” Tangerine’s lips press into a thin line, the crease between his brows deepening as they knit together.

“And,” you say, taking a step forward, “there was a part of me that thought maybe,” you swallow thickly, embarrassment creeping up on you, “that maybe you’d be jealous, even.”

“Oh you’re playing a very dangerous game, sweetheart,” Tangerine murmurs, his demeanor shifting. “You’d be smart to move on, forget me and find someone perfectly ordinary bloke instead.” You stare up at him as he moves in closer to you. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, you’d rather nearly get your coworker killed to try and fuckin’ get at me.” There’s a sinister edge to his voice that sends a shiver up your spine and you wonder if you should’ve even admitted that to him.

He grabs your chin with one hand and looks at you through half-lidded eyes. Your pulse quickens, but your anger hasn’t completely dissipated. 

“You’re the one who fuckin’ left in the middle of the night after you fucked me,” you spit back. His grip tightens and you swear you see the end of his mustache twitch.

“I did you a fuckin’ favor,” he hisses and lets you go. “You’ve got no business gettin’ tangled up with some fucked up bastard like me.” 

“So why do you keep showing back up? Why haven’t you fucked off for good then? You said I’m stubborn but you won’t let me move on.” You’re starting to raise your voice now, your emotions running hot. Everything you’ve felt since he walked into the little cafe you work at on that ordinary fucking Wednesday afternoon is now bubbling up to the surface. You turn from him, walking away toward the living area of your apartment but he catches your wrist, gently. 

“Because it turns out I just can’t get you the fuck off my mind either, love.” Your stomach is in knots, somehow both fluttering and sinking at the same time. “And maybe the thought of some fuckin’ arsehole takin’ you home ate me the fuck up.” You stare at him, feeling weak under his burning stare. Emotion flashes across his face and he looks down in contemplation.

“I fuckin’ love you, alright?” He chokes out. You step closer to him again to close the distance. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That you’ve fucked right with my head? Got me showin’ up to clubs off my fuckin’ face because the thought of anyone else havin’ ya makes me wanna put a bullet right through their skull.”

Your mouth is on his the second he stops speaking. His surprise fades quickly as his lips start to move against yours and you take him in. He tastes like vodka and cigarettes. He drops your wrist and wraps his arm around your waist. Your thoughts are consumed by him as you feel his tongue glide across your lower lip. Without a second thought, you let him in and your hands reach up to tangle in his curls. You run your tongue along the back of his teeth and he groans into your mouth. You wince slightly when he pulls away and trails his lips down your jaw.

“You make me fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He says between kisses.

“Show me,” you say breathlessly, biting back a moan when he nips the skin of your neck. 

He doesn’t waste a second backing you up to the couch. You collapse onto the cushiony fabric below the moment you feel it hit the back of your calves, pulling Tangerine down with you. He’s still leaving marks along your neck so you grab his face and redirect him to kiss you again, his mustache tickling your nose. Your hand ghosts over the bulge in his trousers and his hips buck into the palm of your hand. The sound he makes is so pretty it sends a flood of arousal straight between your legs.

He pulls away again and looks at you, lips wet and glistening. His hand reaches the waistband of your pants and he meets your gaze in search of approval. You give him his answer by grinding your hips against his hand.

“You’re eager, darling,” he says as he slips his hand below the elastic, “but I’m taking my time with you.” He runs a ringed finger through your folds. “Fuckin’ hell you’re already so wet for me baby.” You bite your lip and lift your hips in an attempt to remove your pants. He swats your hands away and pulls them down for you, followed by your panties, tossing them both aside. He sits back on the couch, drinking in the sight of you. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous thing you are,” he swears as he returns his attention to your cunt, gliding his fingers through your slick and gathering the wetness on them. His thumb rubs a tight circle around your clit and you instinctively try to press your thighs together. He grabs one of your thighs with his free hand and forces them apart, holding them in place with his forearm. His ring and middle fingers plunge into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. 

“Ah- Fuck, Tan-” You whimper as he curls his fingers inside of you, feeling the pleasure beginning to pool inside of you. He lowers himself so that he’s kneeling on the floor in front of the couch. He bites at the inside of your thigh, working his way down to your soaked heat as his fingers still pump deliciously in and out of you.

“You look so fuckin’ divine with my fingers inside you, love, need to taste you,” he mutters against your skin. Your hand flies to tangle in his curls when you feel his breath against your exposed cunt. He licks a single, flat-tongued stripe up your entrance stopping to swirl his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers are still working your pussy and you tighten your grip in his hair. He grunts when you tug on his curls, the vibration sending a shiver through you and causing you to buck your hips in response. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds them apart still, fighting against your efforts to squeeze them shut. 

You feel your orgasm building up, chasing the sensation as you fuck yourself on his thick fingers. 

“Feels so good baby, gonna cum,” you manage between breaths, his fingers repeatedly pressing into your g-spot. He hums against your clit and the coil snaps. Your orgasm washes over you and you feel your walls spasm and tighten around his fingers. He doesn’t relent, still sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit, his fingers working you through the orgasm until you’re twitching from overstimulation. 

He pulls away, lips still glistening as he sits back and brings his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices off of them. You watch him, mesmerized at the sight. Then, he moves back to the couch, caging you underneath him as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He watches you through lidded eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, tasting the metal of his rings.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he pants, removing his fingers. His pupils are blown and his hair is a tousled mess of curls, he looks so goddamn beautiful that it sends a sudden wave of affection through you, causing you to reach up to touch his cheek. He leans into your touch, dipping back down to catch your lips. His tongue slips back into your mouth and you feel his cock press against your thigh. You grind your hips up, reaching for his belt at the same time.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whisper as you break the kiss. He curses and pulls away to finish the job for you, discarding his belt and kicking off his trousers. He works at the buttons of his shirt languidly before shrugging it off and tossing it aside as well. You take the chance to pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor as Tangerine looks back up at you. He’s left in his briefs, his cock straining against the fabric as he moves to you once again. You reach for the elastic, freeing his cock and wrapping your fingers around him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you pump the velvety skin. 

“Thought you wanted me inside, darlin’,” he grunts as your hands glide over him. 

“Yes, need you.” You lean back onto the couch cushions, your legs spread. He kicks off his briefs and hovers over you, propping himself up on one elbow, the other hand taking his cock to line up with your entrance. He drops his head down to your ear, a growl vibrating through his chest as he bottoms out inside of you. The mild sting of him stretching you sends a surge of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, missed how you felt around my cock, love,” he huffs out. 

“So good, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back. The feeling of being filled by him is almost overwhelming. It doesn’t take long for him to find a steady pace, dragging his cock along your slick walls. You hook your legs around his waist and pull him to you. He growls when you dig your heels into his back, needing to feel him deeper. 

His rhythm picks up and he sinks back down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You gasp as he nips the sensitive skin, then swirls his tongue around it soothingly. Your hand finds purchase once more in his hair, the other clawing at his back as he splits you open on his cock, sinking into you repeatedly. He releases your nipple and licks a stripe between your breasts. 

“Tangerine,” you cry out his name when the blunt head of his cock hits your g-spot. “Fuck right there.”

“Look at you, my little fuckin’ cock-drunk slut,” he groans between thrusts. Suddenly you feel something cold hitting you in the face and you see his pendant dangling in front of you. It slaps obscenely against your cheek with every rut of his hips. You tilt your chin up, looking at Tangerine through your lashes as you take the gold charm between your teeth with a gentle tug on the chain. The gesture alone is enough to send him into a frenzy and he reaches a brutal pace, pistoning into you as he chases his own orgasm.

“You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?” He rasps, “I’m close.” He adds, reaching between the two of you to massage your clit. You choke back a moan, writhing beneath him. You manage to nod and he hits your g-spot again. Your back arches up from the cushions, your chest pressed to his. 

“That’s it, pretty, come on my cock. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me.” His words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you blindingly. Your pussy clenches around his length and his name spills from your lips like a prayer as your walls flutter around him. His hips still rut into you at an unrelenting pace through your orgasm. 

You feel his cock twitch and know he’s not far behind you.

“Want you to cum inside me,” you breathe. His head snaps up to look at you, eyes wide and pupils blown with pleasure.

“Bloody hell,” he pants, “you’re fuckin’ filthy. Wantin’ me to fill you up, love.” His hips falter. “Anything you want. Anything for you.” He thrusts again, reaching even deeper this time. His mouth finds your shoulder and he bites down hard as he cums. You feel his cock twitching, painting your insides with his cum.

He collapses onto your chest after he empties himself, panting heavy breaths. You feel his heart hammering in his chest against your own. You lay in silence, your mind reeling as your breaths echo inside the room. After a moment he peels himself away from you, his gaze devotional as he takes in the state of you. Breath ragged, your chest heaving as his cum leaks from you.

“Why don’t we move to the bed, yeah?” He says, getting up and slipping his briefs back on. You hum in agreement, feeling completely blissed out. He disappears into the bathroom and you sit up, spotting his discarded shirt laying across the coffee table. You reach for it, pulling it over your shoulders and buttoning it halfway before heading into your bedroom.

Tangerine returns from the bathroom, coming into your room and stopping when he sees you sitting in his shirt. You smile at him from the bed, still feeling a bit like a tingly pile of jello. Affection blooms in his chest, a feeling that terrifies him each time it creeps up. He knows you deserve better than this, his entire lifestyle posing a risk to you. He really should just fuck off for good.

You watch Tangerine move to the bed, scooting over to him as he flops down beside you. He turns his head to look at you, and you take his hand, kissing his busted knuckles.

“You know, I didn’t tell you earlier,” you start. “I mean, you probably already knew.” He looks at you quizzically. “That I love you, too,” you finish.

“Yeah, I know, love.” He smiles, closing his eyes and pulling you to him.

Excessive amounts of sweat on your body wake you up but a weight on your torso stops you from sitting up. You look down, just able to make out Tangerine’s head on your stomach and his arm draped across your body. You feel a wave of relief to find that he’s still here with you. It’s barely light outside but you can’t go back to sleep so you slide out from under Tangerine’s grip. He stirs slightly, grabs a pillow, and rolls onto his stomach with his brow furrowed and curls flying wildly about. You’re still soaked in sweat from the heat of Tangerine’s body pressed up against you all night and your hair is a filthy mess so you decide to take a shower.

You start the water and peek out of the bathroom to make sure he’s still asleep. You’re relieved to see he hasn’t moved so you close the door and step into the small shower. The hot water erases the grimy feeling of sweat and oil but you’re annoyed as thoughts from the previous night creep into your mind. You should probably be angry but you’re only slightly annoyed, which comes as no surprise. How can you be angry thinking about how he kissed his way down your body, how his teeth grazed the skin of your neck as he sank his cock into you, your name pouring from his lips as he spilled into you. Then you remember what he said before.

He loved you. You didn’t even know if he meant it. He didn’t leave this time, so that had to mean something, right? You couldn’t have expected the night to turn out the way it did, but it was certainly full of surprises.

You stay in the shower until the water runs cold and forces you out. You wrap a towel around yourself and exit the bathroom. When you step back into your room, Tangerine is nowhere to be found, and your heart plummets. But before you can dwell on it too much, you hear a loud noise in the kitchen. Startled, you quickly head to investigate.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” Tangerine greets you, standing at the stove with a frying pan in his hand. “How do you like your eggs?” The scene before you feels very domestic. His pants hang low on his hips, and he is very noticeably without a shirt. The sight of him in your kitchen, with messy curls and a dumb grin spreading across his face, makes your stomach flip.

You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your own face. Maybe, just maybe, he meant it after all.

Shout out to everyone who is just so tired So so exhausted So very very tired so very fatigued so sleepy and tired So

the best writer on earth said this about me 🥹

HI 🥹

just wanted to pop in to give a MAJOR shoutout to @shewantsvengeance because she literally corrected ALL OF MY FRENCH for me 😭😭😭 idk what i did to deserve her.

ANGELLLLL!!!!

I will slowly be making edits to all my works to fix my awful translations (I am awful at French lmaooo) and hopefully I will gain some motivation to start working on new pieces while I do that

can't get you outta my head - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends to lovers!) summary: in which you and charles are in the same friend group and find solace in one another OR you and charles fuck and can’t forget about it warnings: smut under the cut! oral (f-receiving!), outdoor sex, p in v, angst, pining, badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 5.4k! (lengthy) author’s note: IN HONOR OF HITTING 1,600 FOLLOWERS I AM POSTING THIS TODAY!!!! double-postings today!!! i wrote this SOOO fast so sorry if there’s any mistakes. loved writing it tho and i know i was going to make it more enemies originally but making him softer and cutesy just felt right for now. i can always do another one if you guys want!! just let me know what you think! love hearing from you guys!!! xoxo

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BENEATH THE BRILLIANT canopy of the sun’s golden embrace, you recline comfortably upon the plush cushions of the lounge chairs, creating a sanctuary of comfort amidst the vast expanse of sand. Around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and textures unfold: vibrant beach towels strewn around carelessly, the glistening ocean stretching endlessly before you, and the verdant palm trees swaying in rhythmic cadence against the bright blue sky.

The sound of the ocean’s embrace upon the sandy shoreline murmurs in the background, a subtle undercurrent beneath the symphony of voices of your friends that fills the air. Your gaze drifts towards a cluster of your friends cavorting in the embrace of the water. Their figures, silhouetted against the shimmering expanse of the ocean, exude a carefree vitality. Like playful spirits unleashed, they tumble and wrestle amidst the crash of the waves, their laughter echoing.

You smile softly listening to a few of the girl’s banter over last night’s drunken escapades, flipping a page of the cheap magazine you purchased earlier.

“Joris a pratiquement mange de la merde hier soir.” Joris practically ate shit last night. Your best friend, also Joris’s girlfriend, to the left of you says in between laughter, as you all careen over with a laugh. 

“Au moins, il va bien.” At least he’s fine. You say with a soft smile, turning another page of your magazine. “Can we talk about Antoine shooting a firecracker out of his ass?” The words spark an immediate eruption of laughter, tears threaten to fall from your eyes from the sheer hilarity of the memory.

“Qu’est-ce qui est si drôle?” What’s so funny?

You turn your head and find yourself locking eyes with a pair of captivating green. In that moment, your heart skips a small beat, and a soft smile graces your lips as you gaze warmly at him. “Making fun of Joris and Antoine, bien sûr.” Of course.

A smile plays at the corner of his pink lips, and you can’t help but envy their perfect hue. You can’t help but notice the subtle dimples that grace Charles’ cheeks as he smiles. Did he always have those? With a casual grace, he raises a hand to scratch the side of his stubble before reaching for a towel casually draped over your lounge chair. As he leans over, droplets of water cascade onto your warm skin, a gentle reminder of the ocean’s embrace. You steal a moment to admire the bronzed glow of his skin, the sunlight dancing upon the small beads of water that cling to his sculpted muscles with a tantalizing allure.

A peculiar aura envelops the relationship between you and Charles. You didn’t speak often, although you were in the same friend group, and have known each other for forever. However, in the recent weeks, a shift has occurred. Perhaps it’s the shared experience of a newfound singleness has drawn you closer together, prompting conversations to flow more freely than ever before.

A delicate blush creeps onto your cheeks, a fleeting flush of warmth that you hope goes unnoticed against the backdrop of your sun-kissed skin. You feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you as Charles’s fingers brush lightly against your shoulders while the grabs the towel, igniting a subtle spark between you two.

“Allons-nous au club ce soir?” Are we going to the club tonight? One of your guy friends asks, sinking onto a sandy towel with a groan as he collapses onto the soft grains. 

For a moment, maybe a few seconds, silence hangs in the air. As if each person is lost in contemplation, weighing the prospect of the evening’s plans. Then, in a synchronous chorus, a resounding chorus of “yes” erupts from the group, breaking the silence with unanimous enthusiasm.

You remain silent, immersed in the pages of a trash magazine, each turn revealing scandalous tales that undoubtedly blur the lines between fact and fiction. Charles watches you intently from his position in the beach chair across from you, though not directly opposite. Positioned slightly to the right, his gaze lingers on you with a subtle curiosity, his expression betraying a hint of contemplation as he observes you amidst the circle of friends. Always in your own world.

“Lovie, tu participes?” Are you in? Your best friend beside you seems to notice your lack of response. Her arms stretch across the gap between your chairs, and she gently squeezes your wrist, a silent gesture of reassurance and solidarity. 

Lovie. You don’t exactly know why you got that nickname, but it stuck. And it carried over to most of the friend group calling you that since childhood.

You lifted your head up, the sun beading down on you causing your eyes to slightly crinkle, as you gave her a look that said duh!

Your friends smile widens as she claps her hands together, her excitement palpable as she sits up from her previously relaxed position. Her enthusiasm is infectious, casting a warm glow over the group as they all eagerly cheer in happiness with her. “Mon dieu!” Thank God! It was a squeal of relief. “Maybe you’ll meet a sexy man and fall in love and have his babies so you can forget all about that loser.”

Your heart clenches at the mere mention of your ex. The smile on your lip’s falters just slightly, but you quickly regain composure, determined not to show a hint of sadness surface while on vacation with your friends. With a subtle effort, you smooth away the brief flicker of vulnerability, masking it beneath a façade of cheerful resilience. 

You roll your eyes, “Nous verrons.” We’ll see. Your tone carries a hint of mystery as you look back into your magazine, letting the conversation of your friends flow into a different direction.

-

“Es-tu sûre que tu devrais en prendre unautre?” Are you sure you should have another? Joris says into your ear, making sure you’re able to hear him over the pulse of the music, his arm slung over the back of the booth behind you. You lean into his body, a drunken smile pulled on your lips.

He harbored a slight concern for you. While you were his girlfriend’s best friend, your friendship dated back to childhood, long before his relationship with her, and he held you in high regard. His care for you ran deep, and ever since your break-up, he knows that you haven’t been the same.

“Arrête de t’inquiéter pour moi.” Stop worrying about me. You shove his shoulder gently, before pointing to your best friend on the dance floor. “Inquiéte-toi pour elle.” Worry about her.

You let out a soft laugh as you witness Joris’s eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his girlfriend standing on the stage. With a knowing smile, you begin to slide out of the booth with intent to make your way to the bar, sensing the need for a fresh drink to accompany the unfolding spectacle.

Before you can even slide out of the booth, a fresh drink—scratch that, a refill of your drink, is placed in front of you. Your gaze follows the masculine hand holding the glass, adorned with an expensive watch at the wrist, tracing its path up the arm until your gaze meets Charles’ intense stare. His eyes, dark and captivating, lock onto yours, already filled with questions and a silent understanding.

You slide back over, silently signaling him to sit beside you. As he eases into the spot beside you, the proximity of his body sends a shiver down your spin, the heat radiating from him igniting a primal longing within you. Your bare skin tingles with anticipation as his presence fills the air with an electric charge, a silent dance of desire playing out between you in the dimly lit confines of the booth.

In the midst of the pulsating club music, words between you two remained scarce. Yet, you both found solace in the quiet companionship that enveloped you both. The energy of the club swirled around you, but the warmth of each other’s presence, you felt a profound sense of ease settle, much like a comforting blanket.

-

It wasn’t unnoticeable to the rest of the friend group. In fact, it was very noticeable. The way you and Charles seemed to find a connection with one another, especially post break-ups. 

It’s not that you were never friends, you just were never as close. So it came as a slight surprise to a few of your friends as they picked up the little changes that were made.

Like when Charles refills your drinks for you. Or when he notices that there is coconut in your meal, which you’re very allergic to, and sends it back to the kitchen. 

Like when you remind him to put on sunscreen, knowing he tends to burn easily. Or when you find yourselves sitting out by the fire at night, long after everyone went to sleep, just talking about the most random things.

“The CGI in that movie was terrible!”

“It’s a classic! You can’t hate a classic!”

“That doesn’t make the CGI better!”

Or

“I’ll have you know I’m a culinary expert.”

“Charles, I’ve known you for forever. Don’t lie!”

“I’m an innovator! Who else could turn pasta into charcoal with such ease?”

No matter the topic at hand, you and Charles always found yourselves engulfed in laughter, the gentle sound filling the air with warmth and camaraderie.

-

You didn’t want sadness to cloud your vacation, but sometimes emotions have a way of washing over you like relentless waves. One of the evenings, while your friends made plans to dine out, you made the wise choice to stay in. Although you didn’t want to miss out, you felt that you were not in the right mindset to be out with everyone. Some protested your decision, expressing concern, but you assured them that you would be fine on your own and ready to party it up all day tomorrow.

Charles shot you a funny look as he slid his hands into one of his pockets, leaning casually against the kitchen archway. His white linen shirt, barely buttoned and snug against his muscles, accentuated his tan, making it seem even more vibrant against the stark contrast of the fabric. A single glance from him stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you as you perched on the bar-stool chair, clad in nothing but a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a well-worn t-shirt. It was your ex-boyfriend’s shirt, a garment you should have long discarded, but its comfort proved too irresistible to part with. Despite the pang of guilt that tugged at your conscience, you found solace in its familiar embrace, a reminder of the past you couldn’t quite let go of yet.

The villa you currently stayed in was beautiful. Its whitewashed walls and wrought-iron accents blended modern and luxury all in one. Inside, the warm glow of the setting sunbathed the spacious rooms, casting an ethereal orange hue over the abundance of white and wood-colored furniture. As the click of the front door echoed through the villa, the chatter of your friends faded into near silence as they departed for dinner, leaving you alone in complete silence.

-

You find yourself eventually nestled in the corner of the oversized couch, cocooned in the warmth of a fluffy blanket draped over your body. With the television remote in hand, you flip through the channels, searching for something to capture your interest. Nothing quite grabs your attention, until you stumble upon a cheesy rom-com you’ve seen hundreds of times.

Lost in a trance, you’re oblivious to the world around you, the gentle breeze whispering through the open windows. The creak of the front door opening barely registers, and it’s only when Charles’ silhouette materializes in the archway beside the TV that you snap back to reality. A soft smile tugs at the corners of Charles’ lips as he gazes upon you, nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. His heart skips a beat at the sight of you, at the sight of your eyes looking at him with such softness.

“Que fais-tu de retour?” What are you doing back?

He shrugs nonchalantly, pushing off from the wall’s archway and making his way toward you. With an easy grace, he plops down beside you, propping one leg up on another couch cushion and allowing his shoulder and head to half-lean against you.

You both settle in a comfortable silence, the sound of the movie filling the air around you with a comforting ambiance.

“Penses-tu jamais que tu le surpasseras?” Do you ever think you’ll get over him?

The words send your stomach into a frenzy of somersaults, and a tightness forms in your throat, making it difficult to swallow.

You don’t answer immediately, instead you stare ahead at the television, your fingers fumbling with the fabric of the blanket nervously.

“Je l’espère.” I hope so.

His eyes are solemn as you look at him. “Parfois,” Sometimes. He begins, straightening his posture so he can fully look at you. “I think I’ll never get over her.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and though they sting a bit, you understand. You share the same sentiment.

“Mais toi,” But you. His hand reaches to yours, the one fumbling with your thigh. His eyes dart between both of yours, like he’s struggling to formulate his next words. “You just,” He starts before squeezing your hand in his. “You just make my days feel easier.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s trying to say. “My pain, my heartache, just disappears whenever I’m with you.” Your voice is soft as you speak the words. The truth of them daunting.

“Sometimes I just wish I could turn my emotions off.” You say, unwrapping the blanket from your body, so that it only sits underneath you now. “Like I could just fuck someone and move on.”

Charles’ eyes widen slightly as the word ‘fuck’ slips past your lips. He nearly lets out an audible groan, his eyes tracing the contours of your collarbones peeking out from the oversized shirt that slips tantalizingly of your shoulder.

He licks his lips, swallowing a pronounced gulp, as his eyes trail back to your face.

“Yeah.” 

You could feel the tension in the air, like the both of you were considering fucking each other here and now. Charles couldn’t escape the thoughts of spreading you out on the cushions right here, spreading your legs and fucking you with his tongue.

As he locks eyes with you, you feel a flutter in your stomach, your thighs clenching involuntarily as his gaze lingers on your lips. You part your lips to speak, but before you can utter another word, a loud burst of commotion erupts through the front door. No doubt your drunken friends, clamoring for the fire pit.

-

You and Charles find yourselves in an awkward dance since then. Not too awkward, but the idea of you fucking each other escaped neither of your minds.

It was honestly twisted. The fact that Charles couldn’t stop picturing what you would look like beneath him, what your moans would sound like in his ear. He had fucked his fist twice to the though of you since he even heard the word ‘fuck’ slip past your lips on the couch the other night. It was honestly pathetic.

You couldn’t handle it either it seems. You found your eyes lingering on Charles way longer than necessary. The flex of his muscles as he enjoys a morning workout by the villa’s pool, the small smiles he gives you from across the room, and the small touches he gives as he walks by you has you driving yourself up a fucking wall.

So, when your friends decide to head out for a spa day, you and Charles hang back sitting across from one another a tad too far apart on the outdoor couch for it to be normal. It was as if you needed the space to stop from jumping each other’s bones.

The skimpy red bikini you wore did little to ease Charles’ thoughts. But he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the first time in weeks he isn’t thinking about his ex-girlfriend. No, he’s too engrossed in the idea of fucking you. Hearing your sweet little moans he just knows you would have. Feeling your smooth skin beneath the pads of his fingertips.

Charles could feel himself harden just by glancing at you lounging comfortably on the outdoor couch, the clouds covering the sun engulfing you guys in a moment of shade.

Across the couch from him, you tried to do everything but acknowledge Charles’ longing stare. But you couldn’t. Your body was all tense, in need of a release. 

“Charles, will you—”

Before you could even finish the sentence, Charles was standing over your figure on the couch. His hardened cock visibly noticeable in his short swimsuit. The muscles of his thighs flexed before you, as he visibly gulped at the vision of your breasts spilling out of the top.

“Assieds-toi droit.” Sit up. He murmurs softly, his voice carrying a gentle command as he shifts, prompting you to straighten your posture.

Was this really about to happen? You really hoped so.

It was as if Charles can see the desire in your eyes, answering the question of if you wanted this in his head almost instantly.

“Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” Can I kiss you? His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, tracing it as he licked his own.

You nodded your head before his lips pressed down onto yours, capturing them in a sweet embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly near your scalp as he deepened the kiss, igniting a surge of warmth and longing between you.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pressing it hotly against yours. He pulls away for a moment, still standing above your sitting figure, as he takes in your blown out pupils.

“Ça a un gout si doux.” Tastes so sweet. His hand remains in your hair, holding your head in place to look at him. His eyes stare at your sightly swollen lips, a clench of need forming in the pit of his stomach.

He falls to his knees before you on the couch, kneeling between your two legs, as his other hand presses against your chest, forcing you to lean back against the cushions of the couch. The sun peeped through the clouds momentarily, allowing you to drink in the sight of just how light his eyes were.

His thumb grazes your bikini cladded core, rubbing light circles in a teasing manner. The pressure of his thumb wasn’t enough, but it was everything you needed.

He looked at you from between your legs, a smirk on his face like he knew just how crazy he was driving you. It was an image you never wanted to forget. 

“Touch me.” You begged, a breathy moan leaving your lips as his thumb pressed harder onto your swollen clit. 

It was all he needed to hear before sliding your bikini bottoms to the side and shoving his tongue to where you needed him most. The cool air of the outdoors was a stark contrast to the heat you felt between your legs. 

He took his time with you, like he wanted to savor every sweet moan you gave him. His tongue flicked around your clit a few times, before wrapping his lips around it. Your hand slid into his brown locks, slightly lightened form the sun over vacation, and pulled as you rutted your hips against his face.

“Mm, that’s it,” He groaned into your cunt, his words vibrating against you, sending your hips into a faster frenzy. He slipped two fingers into you, lifting his head to watch as you lulled your head back against the cushion and took your hands from his head to your breasts. You stretched the bikini top slightly, until your breasts spilled over the tiny triangles, your nipples already hardened from the need that burned within you.

Charles slipped one hand up to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and pinching.

“M’god,” You half-shouted, biting your lip to prevent yourself for being too loud.

“Don’t deprive me from your sweet little moans, yeah?” He pulled his lips off your clit for a few seconds, giving you ample time to look at them glistening in you. You nearly came at the sight of it. 

He dropped his head back between your legs, flicking fast kitten licks to your clit, which had you careening forward with a cry of pleasure.

He sucked hard on your clit, eliciting loud mewls from you that were like a sweet melody to his ears. Charles could feel his cock straining against the tightness of his swim suit, he flexed his hips into the couch before him, in need of some sort of relief. 

He could feel you teetering on the edge of your orgasm, shoving his face deeper into you, his tongue slipping in and out of you at a fervent pace. It hit you hard. Your hips had a mind of their own, as they rode his face, the bony structure of his nose pressing against your clit sending you into a frenzy.

Charles replaced his tongue with his fingers and watched as you came down from your high. His fingers still working you over as he coaxed you through your orgasm, not letting up.

“I knew you would taste like heaven,” He smirks, finally removing his fingers, before slipping them into his mouth, and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

You groaned, your pupils blown out as you looked at him, your legs still spread and cunt fully exposed to him and the outside air. 

“Need more,” You practically begged.

“Need my cock, hm?” You nodded, wasted no time in answering. He pushed himself up from his knees, sitting beside you on the couch as he pushed his swimsuit down enough to free his cock. It was hot and heavy in your hands as you reached for it, precum already dripping from its tip.

You straddled his waist, raising up just enough for him to slip his cock into your already saturated core. Your hands grip the back of the couch behind Charles’ head, your fingers clenching it tightly as you take in each inch of him. His hands grip your waist, large fingers sprayed across as he guides your movements over his cock.

The squeeze of your cunt on his cock was better than Charles could ever imagine. The fact that he had to use his fist before you was honestly a punishment compared to this.

“Mon dieu,” My God. You groan as his cock stretches your walls. You waste no time in working yourself over his cock, the pleasure of it too good for you to do it slow. You chased that second orgasm as it teetered on the edge. You were already so close.

“That close already?” His smirk was permanent on his face as he flexed his hips up into you, hitting you deeper than before.

You nodded, soft mewls escaping your lips constantly. It was as if you couldn’t shut up now. His hands grip your hair tightly, pulling your head back to look up at the sky, as he pulls one of your hardened nipples in between his teeth.

You didn’t have time to tell him you were coming again, but the clench of your walls on his cock was enough of a warning for him. Your walls fluttered around him repeatedly, as his name fell softly from your lips followed with a string of curses.

As if he couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer, he lifted you up off him and placed you to the side, his hot cum spilling over his cock and stomach in stringy spurts. Your body was limp against the cushion, your bathing suit covering nothing.

Still hazy from your climax, you look from the blue cloudy sky to Charles beside you. His eyes were glossy as he smiled, like he was fully content.

“Merci,” Thank you. You said softly, an acknowledgment for him giving you what you mentioned the other night.

He nodded once, giving a small smile as if to say thank you back.

-

It’s been weeks since you and Charles fucked on the outdoor couch of the vacation villa. You haven’t seen each other much since, not that you expected it. You were thankful it helped you forget about your ex-boyfriend just a little bit more. Like you could bare the idea of meeting other men. Which you were.

You claimed that Charles was a one-time thing. Although it was probably the best sex you’ve ever had, you knew you couldn’t do it again. It was a mutual one-time thing.

So, when you found yourself pressed against the bathroom door of the five-star restaurant, your short little sundress bunched up at your waist, and Charles’ cock buried deep in your cunt, it was a little unexpected. Not completely.

It was hard and quick, nothing but a string of breathy moans between you two as he pressed your chest forward into the door. You both came quickly, your chest flushed red and his cheeks slightly pink as if he just performed a hard workout. 

“Who’s your date?” He asks, the words slip out fast, like he’s trying to act like he doesn’t care.

You furrow your eyebrow for a second, before looking at yourself in the mirror, Charles standing tall behind your figure. “Just met him last night,” You flattened your hair as much as you could to make it seem normal. “I’m trying to get back out there.”

Charles smiles at you, although it seems slightly pained. “Good. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t deserve you.” His words were kind, and it made you smile that he even bothered to say it. 

“I should get back,” You begin, turning to face him. His eyes look at your lips one last time, like he’s contemplating kissing you again. “I’ll see you next week at Joris’s, right?”

He gave you a small nod.

-

Charles Leclerc is a liar.

Well, a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you sexually. The way you feel around his cock. The way your breathy moans turn him on to no end. The way your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock. The taste of your cunt on his lips. 

He’s a liar if he says he doesn’t fuck his fist almost every night to the thought of you.

But he was also a liar when it comed to him saying he doesn’t think about you not sexually. The way you loved to read trashy magazines, the way you always fidgeted with the rings on your fingers when you were nervous, the way your eyes glowed whenever you laughed. 

So, when Joris mentions you and a new potential boyfriend, he can’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the idea. The clench of Charles’ jaw at the sight of you and this ‘potential boyfriend’ across the yard at baby shower, does not slip past Joris’s eyesight.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two?

Charles clutches the neck of the beer bottle in his fingers, bringing it to his lips, before straying his eyes from you to Joris beside him.

Charles’ eyes gleamed like he didn’t know how to answer this without admitting feelings he hasn’t even admitted to himself. He shook his head. No. Because there wasn’t.

“Vous étiez proches en vacances.” You guys were close on vacation.

It was just a statement, as if he wanted to see Charles’ reaction. Charles didn’t know if Joris was trying to insinuate anything, but Charles didn’t respond. Not as Joris’s girlfriend, your best friend, popped up behind you both, a tray of cupcakes in her hand.

You sat across the yard, deep in conversation with Theo, at one of the many heavily decorated picnic tables. The short purple sundress that adorned your body is a vision of effortless elegance. Delicate straps grace the shoulders, framing your breasts with a feminine charm. The skirt flows gently with every movement, swaying gracefully in the warm breeze.

You both knew it wasn’t anything serious, at least yet, but he had a way of making you smile, nonetheless. Despite only knowing each other for a few weeks and sharing a handful of dates, he made a point to take his time with you. He was considerate, never pressuring you into anything, especially after you had confided in him about your previous messy relationship one night.

“Tu es belle.” You’re beautiful. Theo whispered into your ear, his fingers toying with the fabric at the ends of your dress, resting right above your knees.

You blushed, your cheeks flaring a light shade of red, as you smiled into your lap. You lifted your head slightly, looking across the yard, where your eyes met with Charles. His eyes already watching you with such heat in his eyes it made your stomach do a somersault.

He felt an intense surge of resentment towards the guy who dared to lay his hands on you, his anger boiling as he watched him lean into whisper into your ear. Your cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson under his gaze, betraying the effect of his words.  What could he possibly be saying to you?

It was just his cock you were coming around last week. So, why is this fiery sense of jealousy threatening to consume him entirely?

It didn’t make sense. How could he feel such intense jealousy over someone he never even had a real relationship with? He never even felt this jealous over his ex-girlfriend.

It was just sex.

He told himself repeatedly. It was just sex. But it only made the burn in his chest only grow more.

-

You were a liar if you said that Charles Leclerc is never on your mind. You were a liar if you said that it was just sex.

Because, for some inexplicable reason, you can’t seem to get Charles Leclerc out of your mind. You remember how he made sure none of your dishes contained coconut, how he bought you those trashy magazines he knew you loved so much, and how he always made sure that you were smiling.

So, when Charles Leclerc stood silhouetted in the doorway of your front door, the moonlight casting a soft glow around him in the middle of the night, you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

You took note of his hair in disarray, as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times, and the soft grey sweats that hung loosely on his hips. The taut muscles of his arms peeked out against the seams of the black t-shirt he wore. 

“Je n’arrête pas de penser à toi.” I can’t stop thinking about you. He utters the words with a look of anguish etched on his face, each step carefully navigating around your figure as he stands in the foyer of your apartment, a space he’s been in countless times over the years. But never alone. Never without friends.

You close the door and turn to look at him, not realizing just how close he was to you. “It’s like you,” he begins but freezes, taking a step closer toward you. You take a step back, the tight tank top you wore did little to hide your hardened nipples from the cold air, and your back hit the front door. “It’s like you possess every thought I have. Every single thought. You. You. You.”

You sucked in a breath as you looked into his eyes, more darkened than normal, almost as if he was angry at you.

“Qu’est-ce que tu m’as fait?” What did you do to me? His fingers trail up your arm to your collarbones, a trail of goosebumps following in their wake.

You gulp audibly, your lips slightly parted from the feel of his fingertips on your skin for the first time in weeks. You struggle to find the words until Charles is pleading.

He laughs slightly sarcastic, like he can’t believe this is happening to him. “I even bought those trashy magazines that you like so much, a whole stack of them at my place, because I cannot get you out of my fucking head.”

“Dit moi, it’s not just me.” Tell me.

You would be a liar if you said it’s just him. Your hands trail up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing them in comfort as you stare into his eyes. His breaths getting heavier as your fingers trail his t-shirt classes skin, like he was yearning for it so much, like it burned him.

“It’s not just you.”

He doesn’t give you time to say much more, not until his lips are crashing down onto yours again. Like he couldn’t last one more second without your lips pressed to his.

---

this picture of rafe just got me pregnant, i feel the baby kicking

ughhhhh i need season 4 rafe sooooo bad 😫😫😫😫😫😫

'i could fix him' 'i could make him worse' well i could RAIL HIM !!!!!!!!!

lucifer - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: you purposely try to make Charles jealous at a party which ultimately leads to some dirty consequences Warnings: SMUT, bad writing, curse words, 18+, choking, slapping, spitting Word Count: 1,657 Author's Note: this was a request from an anon 'Charles jealous and possessive please' that I wanted to make halloween related. Feel free to send more requests!!! Also I apologize for how dirty this might be. I was in a moooood.

"You are so in for it tonight," your best friend spoke into your ear with a small laugh. "You look hot. Charles' palm will be twitching once he see's you."

It was funny. How irrational the both of you became when the mixture of alcohol and other people were involved. 

You and Charles were not a couple, and the mere thought of dating him was utterly inconceivable at most times. He exuded an air of insufferable arrogance that grated on your every nerve. His incessant self-assuredness and overconfidence were more than enough to drive you to the brink of frustration.

But, the sex. Oh boy, the sex. It was as if pushing each other’s buttons was your own secret form of foreplay.

Your outfit was minimal to say the least. An angel. The innocence of your appearance was almost complete, aside from the subtle hint of revealed skin that added a touch of allure. A tiny white dress graced your form, its delicate lace fabric clinging to your figure. Attached were a pair of feathered wings that extended from your back, imparting an air of ethereal elegance. Completing the ensemble, a fluffy white halo, nestled on your head by a dainty headband, bestowed an angelic aura to your attire.

It was an outfit that sent looks your way for sure. Looks that you didn’t care about. There was only one pair of eyes you truly wanted to capture. But you wouldn’t let it be known. There’s no fun in that, right?

Though the night was still relatively young, your friend’s apartment was already deemed a mess. Plastic red cups and glass bottles scattered across most surfaces. The ever-shifting multicolored lights transitioning from crimson to rich purples cast a unique and enchanting ambiance throughout the room. 

You felt your thighs press together as the mere memory of the rough fuck from a few weeks ago slips into your mind. It was a pestering memory that reminded you just how much his jealousy ate at him. You wanted it. You needed it. 

You could feel him before you saw him. The burning gaze of his eyes lingering on you as you leaned against a wall talking to another guy. A guy, whose name you don’t quite remember, was cute. His humor had you in stitches, keeping you fully engrossed in his presence. The music reverberating against the walls made it hard to hear, resulting in the need to stand closer to one another. From an outsider, his proximity appeared intimate. Almost too intimate for Charles to bare the sight of. 

You weren’t flirting at first. At least you weren’t until that memory popped into your head a few minutes ago. You were merely testing the waters, curious to gauge how long it would take for him to crack.

“Do you want another drink?” The guy, who might’ve been named Daniel, leaned in closer so you could hear him over the music. His lips nearly brushing against your ear as he raised his voice. 

That seemingly was the last straw. Because before you could even answer, you felt a presence slightly to the left behind you. There was no need to even turn your head; the identity was unmistakable. The firm grip of his hands on your waist, pulling your back to his front, left no doubt on who it was.

“I got it from here,” He was short with his words, so assertive. Leaving little to no room for Daniel, you think that’s his name, to argue. There was no space for Daniel, or whatever his name might be, to push back. You couldn’t see the expression Charles wore, but it must have been far from pleasant, judging by Daniel’s hasty retreat. 

You still hadn’t gotten the chance to look at him. Or his costume. He was already guiding you down the apartment hallway, weaving through the crowds of people, and pushed you into the nearest bathroom. You heard a quick sound of the lock on the door. Much like the rest of the apartment, the bathroom was decked out for the occasion. Instead of its typical white-yellow lighting, crimson hues filled the space, casting an eerie sensuous glow. 

“It seems I still have to remind you who you belong to,” his voice was a low sultry murmur as his lips grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. In front of the mirror by the sink, his towering figure dwarfed yours. Finally, your eyes locked with his in the reflection, the intensity of the moment palpable. 

The irony of his outfit threatened to draw an unintended moan from your lips. A devil – the symbolism was anything but planned, completely coincidental. It was as if some silent alarm was blaring, one that everyone else seemed to hear, except for the two of you who were right in the thick of it. The connection between you was undeniable, transcending mere physical attraction, and it was clear as day to all the observers. 

His hands were relentless, firmly gripping your ass and thighs until you were panting. His touch was so tantalizing that even the lightest brush of his fingers left you dripping and needy for more.

“I didn’t know you were here,” you lied through your teeth. Charles elicited a mockery of laughter, his lips brushing your skin, as he pressed you firmly against the cool granite countertop. Goosebumps arose on your skin from the contrasting temperatures. Your skin burned with an intense heat, in stark contrast of the cold granite countertops. 

“You were too busy acting like a fucking slut to notice.” He sneered as he lifted the ends of your dress above your waist, revealing that you had been bare underneath all along.

You smirked back at him through the mirror, “couldn’t have panty lines now, could I?” A sharp slap echoed off the walls of the tiny bathroom as his hand collided with the skin of your ass. You were soaked already. Full of anticipation. You both were so full of need; Charles couldn’t even wait to pull his pants all the way off. 

“Such a fucking tease,” were the last words he said before slamming his cock into your entrance. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips as a powerful and sudden thrust rocked through you, causing you to place your trembling hands on the countertop to steady yourself. 

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Fucking hell. You’re so fucking tight ma petite,” He sounded like he was in pain. “Squeezing my cock like the whore you are.” His hands gripped your hair as his hips snapped at a rapid pace into you.

“Who’s got you so hot and bothered tonight? Hm?” He starts. It seems as if you just can’t shut the fuck up tonight though. 

“Daniel.” You mutter the words with a smirk on your lips. Testing his patience, pushing the boundaries to see just how far you could go, a playful and daring challenge in the heat of the moment. 

He offered no words back. Just another hard slap to your skin. You shrieked from the burn of the slap, no doubt leaving your skin red. 

You gazed into the mirror, determined to etch this exact moment into your memory. One hand fisted your hair tightly as he pulled it back, the other groping your breast harshly. He continued to roll your nipples between his thumb and middle finger, pinching them just how you liked. The shadows of your feathered wings were visibly shaking with each thrust. It was so fucking hot to see.

“God, do you ever just shut the fuck up?” He muttered between each thrust. If it wasn’t for the loud music in the background, the whole apartment would’ve heard you. The room smelt of sweat as he worked into you harder. You could see his skin start to glisten under the red hues in the mirror. It was so erotic; you almost came right then and there.

"We all know its only my cock you want."

Charles was on the brink of insanity from the way you squeezed around him. Just relentlessly pounding into you that your hips will no doubt have bruises on them from the bathroom countertop.

With an intense, forceful pull on your hair, he tugged you upright, your back arching as your head tilted back, allowing you to gaze up at him, your eyes locking almost instantly.

“Please,” you begged. You were so close. Your pussy was growing sensitive with each thrust.

“Open,” He was so assertive. You surrendered. He spat directly into your mouth, and you swallowed without hesitation. His arm moved around, and his hand settled on the front of your neck, much like a piece of intimate jewelry. He applied just the right amount of pressure, sending you over the edge. 

“Look at you, hm?” Charles edged you on through your orgasm. “Such a fucking slut for my spit.” 

“Yes.” You couldn’t even deny it. You literally were. He pressed your face back down into the sink as he moved in quick pulses. It was as if each pump of his cock was claiming you.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You swore you blacked out. You barely acknowledged the feeling of him pulling out and spilling himself all over your backside, rubbing the tip of himself around your skin. His strength held you in place, leaving you panting against the cool of the granite. 

He quickly cleaned you up, pressing a light kiss to your ass before pulling your dress back down. He gave two small pats to your butt as you stood up and faced him.

His thumbs slowly pressed under your eyes, wiping the dried tears and smudged mascara from under them away. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered lightly as you leaned the full weight of your head in the palms of his hands.

You felt a tug on your heart as your stomach did somersaults. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be no strings. 

You were completely wiped out. Almost limp in his arms from being freshly fucked. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He zipped his pants back up while you tried to manage your hair back to a semi-decent look. 

“Yes.”

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soooo what do you guys think? please feel free to leave requests!!! I love new ideas xoxo

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im still young i still have time im still young i still have time im still young i still have time [lays on the floor wasting my time]