charles leclerc imagines

05 | the middle of the night

You hear something thud in your room. You pick up the broom from the hallway and creep to your bedroom, slowly peeking through the door—

Only to find your boyfriend halfway through your window, dragging his left leg over the windowsill.

The light comes on with a flick. "Is there a reason you're crawling through my window?"

Charles shields his eyes, finally flopping to the floor, then fumbles about with the window until it's closed. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"What was your plan, exactly?"

"Well." He stands with his hands on his waist, beaming at you. "I'd take my clothes off, get into bed with you, and be there when you wake up."

"And you thought that wouldn't disturb me."

"It wouldn't. Because you love me."

His grin widens and you drop your pretence – yes, your boyfriend is a little dumb when he's drunk, but at least he's the kind to try to get into your bed when drunk and not someone else's.

"Charles, it's"—you check your phone—"the middle of the night."

He nods. "Bedtime, then."

Before you respond, he starts taking off his clothes, starting with the white polo he wore to the night out with the boys. He unbuttons it quickly, then looks at you—pauses—grins—and starts unbuttoning it slowly, keeping eye contact.

"You're adorable," you say, shaking your head. "Not happening, though."

Charles pouts. "Why?"

"You're drunk."

"And in love," he says, singing the "love". He closes the distance between you and pulls you in by your waste, tickling your neck with kisses. "You're the only thing I want tonight, baby."

"Charles."

"Mhm?"

The kisses continue, so you put your hands on his cheek, making him face you. You give him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll get you some water."

He kisses you back. "I need you, not water."

"Charles—"

"I can tell," he says. "I know you want me, too."

And you do—god, you do—because he keeps kissing you, brushing that sweet spot on your neck as his kisses threaten to trail lower, and because his hands are dropping lower, too, gripping you just right, and—

"Charles."

He takes a step back immediately, noting the lack of playfulness in your voice. "Okay."

You kiss him on the cheek. "Get in bed. I'll join you in a minute."

He nods and you can tell he's disappointed, but he'd never go against your wishes. There's a line between being playful, debating, maybe even considering his proposal – and the no that means a flat-out no, no considerations included. He never pushes when you don't want him to.

And, unfortunately, that just makes him want you more.

You fill up two glasses of water and take some aspirin from the medicine cabinet, some chocolates, too. Either of you could get peckish later, or in the morning, and you'd rather account for that in advance.

In your bedroom, as you approach it—gently, just in case—Charles is sprawled on top of the covers, with only boxers to hide his modesty. You chuckle and he startles, then beckons you to come over.

"I just want to cuddle," he says. "I promise."

You give him the glass and he downs it, then puts it on the nightstand on your side of the bed. The light's still on but it's a warm, gentle yellow, and you think about leaving it on for just a little longer.

"Y/N. Mon amour. Come here."

You kiss him as you join him on top of the covers. His arms close around you as if that's all they were made to do and you feel tension drift from your body. He smells like his most recent aftershave, and you inhale it as if it were a drug – even sweaty after a night out, he still smells like a god.

Charles kisses the top of your head.

"Charles," you say.

"Mhm?"

"You tired?"

"Not very." He kisses you again, snuggles you closer. "Why?"

"I'm think I'm too awake to fall back asleep."

His palm is flat on your side and his thumb moves side to side, and you hear him sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I can't believe you thought that getting in through the window wouldn't wake me."

He kisses you again. "You're a heavy sleeper, bebe."

"Not today. Not when you're out," you remind him.

"But I'm here now, and you're still not sleepy."

You hesitate for a moment—you can still hear the life outside your window, and the world is still wide awake, it seems—but then you push yourself up, kissing the corner of Charles's jaw.

"I can think of a way you could make up for it," you whisper.

His hands are on your waist in an instant and he's kissing you, no, devouring you, and you feel taste the alcohol on his lips and start to feel a little drunk, yourself, as his kisses outline your jaw and stick to your neck, a little too long, long enough that you'll have little bruises tomorrow, and—

He hits the spot and you moan his name.

"Mon amour." His hand's on your mouth and face above yours, pupils dilated and eyes wild. "We don't want to be too loud, do we?"

"No," you mutter through his hand.

"You want to go to sleep after this, right?"

"Yes."

He kisses the corner of your jaw like you did to him earlier and he's nibbling at your earlobe. "Then relax and enjoy."

His hands cup the bottom of your shorts, getting a handful off your ass. He squeezes it, just enough to draw out a moan, and his lips are on yours again, reminding you to keep quiet, you don't want the neighbours hearing, now, do you? You don't want them to know how hard I fuck you when I haven't seen you all day, when I've spent the last five hours thinking about coming here and taking you, all of you, mon amour.

You're not sure if he's saying this or if you're imagining it, but you're not even thinking about being quiet anymore because his head's between your thighs now, telling you how good you taste, and his fingers are pressing down on your lower belly and the neighbours will know how hard he fucks you, they already do.

After a while, he stops asking you to hold back, but he smacks your ass until it's red and you're writhing in pleasure because you're been a bad girl, and he's filling you up so well that you wonder how in hell you thought you'd be able to go without this tonight.

By the time he's done, you're exhausted and so is he, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought it possible, with his hand still tangled in your hair.

———

a/n: been a while! i'm back now, with hopefully some spicier content coming soon.