charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary : Charles dates a baddie and the internet takes it as him being the bottom in the relationship. If only they could see his reaction to those jokes... based on this anon !
warnings : smau + written plot, heavy SMUT !! p in v, degrading language, dom!charles, unprotected sex, a loooot of dirty talk, rough sex, fingering, some choking, +18 [minors dni]
liked by charles_leclerc, lando and 489k others
charles_leclerc #needthat liked by author
charles_leclerc mon coeur i'm on my knees
→ lando and he means that literally he's so pathetic
→ y/n pls pls tell me you took a pic
→ lando made a whole album😛 sending it your way rn
→ charles_leclerc | y/n come over and i'll recreate them
→ user95418 i'm crying he's down BAD😭😭
lilymhe gorg! liked by author
kikagomes absolute icon wow
user72637 one chance PLEASE just one chance
user81727 i love how obsessed he is with her
→ user92653 as he should!!
→ user14252 he really is pathetic for her🙂↕️🙂↕️
user93618 #needthat😭 charles is so real
user33794 and she's a harry fan??? can she get ANY more iconic
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 700k others
y/n: feed's turning very red lately
charles_leclerc you know what you're doing with that top liked by author
charles_leclerc delete it's not fair
→ y/n omg you're finally embracing your french identity
→ charles_leclerc i can do a few french things alright
charles_leclerc you make me look like a simp
→ pierregasly that's all you buddy😭👋🏻
user91634 how can someone be so pretty omfg
user13295 she really walks him like a dog liked by author
user17349 where's your top from??
→ user53440 not even she believes that
→ user11125 i'II NEVER fall for top charles propaganda
"No, bebé, I'm serious." Charles grumbled, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Can you stop laughing?"
This was actually outrageous.
Just in the last five minutes, he had already seen like ten tweets calling him a bottom with thousands of likes. Thousands. Were they kidding?
He rolled his eyes at the thought, taking a bite of his sandwich. They were having a light lunch when his girlfriend started laughing at the first post she saw when entering Twitter.
You shook your head, sitting on the kitchen isle, still chuckling about the whole thing. Because, God, you had to admit they were hilarious.
He huffed out a small, affectionate sigh, both annoyed and amused by your inability to stop laughing about the inside joke on the internet. While a part of him was irritated at being perceived as the submissive one in the relationship, he couldn't help but find your laughter endearing.
"It's not funny." He grumbled, his gaze narrow as he watched you giggle uncontrollably.
You took your phone, going back to read the first tweet you had found. "Dating that BADDIE??? Most bottom to ever bottom."
He facepalmed, groaning aloud as you pulled out your phone again, scrolling through the endless memes and jokes about him supposedly being a "total bottom".
"I'm not-" He started, his voice starting to rise in protest, his ego slightly bruised. "Fuck it, stop reading those."
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Seriously, how the hell did I get stuck with that label?" He muttered half to himself, half to you, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.
"This is why." You replied, showing him your phone screen.
It was a picture of him in his car, looking up at some Ferrari mechanic with what could honestly be perceived as pretty sub eyes.
He groaned aloud again, his jaw clenching as he saw the picture on your phone screen. He could immediately recognize it, a snapshot from a race weekend, captured in the garage.
And shit, you were right. In the picture, he was looking up at the mechanic... and he looked pretty damn submissive. He let out a frustrated huff as a blush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks.
"That's... not what it looks like." He protested weakly.
"Well I have like twenty pictures just like it." You replied. "But whatever you say buddy."
He groaned, the realization that you had not just one, but twenty similar pictures of him, looking submissive and... well, pretty damn bottom-y, nearly drove him mad.
He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching at the thought of the fans having so much material to use against him.
He leaned forward, giving you a half-hearted glare. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He accused, his voice laced with slight annoyance and embarrassment.
"Why would I? That would be cruel." You mocked him.
His eyes narrowed at your reply, the playful challenge in your tone sparking a familiar fire within him. He recognized that glint in your eyes, the little gleam that always appeared when you were being cheeky and challenging him.
Charles chuckled darkly, a smirk slowly forming on his face as his ego took over.
"Cruel, huh?" He repeated, his voice dropping to a low, almost dangerous tone. He pushed away his empty plate, his eyes not leaving you. "Come here."
You smiled, not moving from your place, still sitting on the kitchen isle. "Oh, they got to you, didn't they? You're upset."
His eyes darkened as you remained seated, refusing to move. You were being deliberately obtuse, and it both annoyed and excited him at the same time.
He clenched his jaw, trying to maintain his composure, his hands balling into fists on the table as he replied, his voice low and firm.
"Upset? Not really. But I definitely have something to prove now." He pushed himself away from the table, slowly standing up. "And I said get that pretty ass over here."
His smirk widened at your challenging tone.
He liked this... the way you were defying him, pushing his buttons, testing him. So he took a step towards you, his eyes burning with a mixture of irritation and desire.
His voice was deep and authoritative, laced with a hint of warning. "Or I'm going to bend you over this counter and show you exactly who the bottom is here."
You finally got off the kitchen isle, walking slowly towards him.
"I was hoping you'd do that anyway." You whispered.
And that's when Charles snapped.
He captured your lips in a heated, almost possessive kiss the moment you were within reach. His hands immediately went to your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he poured all his frustration, ego, and dominance into that one passionate embrace.
"You think it's funny?" He murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your lips. "Making your boyfriend an internet joke?"
He didn't let you pull away to answer, one hand tangling into your hair to tilt your head back, deepening the kiss as he backed you up against the kitchen counter. His other hand gripped your waist tightly, pinning you to the marble edge.
"You're hilarious, vraiment." He muttered sarcastically against your mouth, his teeth grazing your lower lip. "Laughing at my expense."
He took your silence as an opportunity to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, marking your skin with hickies and love bites. His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you up and placing you onto the counter.
You let him move you, and he stepped between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs possessively as he kissed you again, this time with a punishing intensity. His tongue dominated yours, asserting his control and dominance over the situation.
One hand slid up to grab a handful of your hair while the other reached down to unbuckle his belt.
Within seconds, he had freed himself from his pants. Without warning or asking for permission, because fuck that, he was proving a point, he grabbed onto your panties and yanked them aside brutally, making you gasp.
He entered you in one swift, deep thrust that had you crying out. There was no gentle build-up, no teasing, just raw, dominant need. He set a brutal pace from the start, his hips snapping against yours with force that had you sliding back on the counter.
"You like making fun of me?" His hand on your hair tightened slightly, pulling your head back to expose your neck further. "Let's see how funny you find this."
Charles pounded into you relentlessly, each thrust deeper than the last, almost as if he was trying to fuck you into submission.
He didn't slow down for a second; instead, he drove into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing loudly through the kitchen.
You moaned, and he captured your cries with his mouth, kissing you roughly as he continued to fuck you as aggressively. His hand left your hair to grip your thigh, lifting it higher and spreading you wider for deeper access. The angle allowed him to hit that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back.
"Is it funny now?" He grunted out between thrusts.
A smug, dominant smirk tugged at the corner of his lips at your breathy denial. He slowed his pace slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts to target your g-spot with every snap of his hips. His grip on your thigh tightened enough to leave bruises.
"Charles..." You whined, moving your hips to get it faster.
"There it is." He hissed, picking up speed again to give you what you wanted. His thumb found your clit and rubbed circles around it aggressively, applying just the right amount of pressure. "Need it faster, baby?" He asked mockingly, his voice dripping with sweat and arrogance.
"That's it." He smirked at the desperation in your voice, at the way you were practically begging him now.
His thumb continued working your clit while he stayed buried deep inside you, stretching you out and watching your face with dark, satisfied eyes.
"You wanted to joke?" He gritted out, his breathing heavy. "Doesn't seem like such a joke when you're falling apart on my cock, does it?"
His smirk turned wicked, his eyes gleaming with mischief and dominance. He pulled out completely, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could protest, he spun you around, pressing your face down onto the cold kitchen counter.
Then, his hands gripped your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he lined himself back up with your entrance. But instead of pushing in, he teased you, rubbing his tip against your wet opening, sliding up to your clit and back down without giving you what you needed.
"You were so funny earlier, non?" He murmured mockingly against your ear, giving your tits another rough squeeze.
"No." You shook your head, whining and trying to get more friction. "N-no... I'm sorry."
"Mmm, you're not sounding so confident now." He whispered mockingly, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're just a moaning, needy mess on my counter, begging for my dick." He pushed his tip in slightly, just enough to tease you before pulling back out.
The sheer desperation in your whimpers made his cock throb, but he maintained control. He slapped your ass hard enough to sting, the sound echoing through the kitchen, and then immediately gave your breasts another rough squeeze.
"Say it, baby. 'I'm sorry, Charles, for making fun of you, please fuck me properly.'"
"I-I'm sorry..." You cried out, holding tightly onto the counter.
"Say the rest." He prompted cruelly, his hand delivering another sharp smack to your ass. He stayed pressed against your entrance, teasing you with just the tip while his hands continued to roughly grope your breasts.
"Admit you were wrong. Beg me to fuck you properly." He was torturing you on purpose, keeping only his tip inside you, refusing to give you the satisfaction you were crying out for.
"Words, chérie. Use your words."
"I was wrong, I was." You whined, nodding. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Charles, please..."
"Please what?" He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he stayed buried just at your entrance.
His hands pinched your nipples hard between his fingers, giving them a rough twist that made you cry out. "Tell me exactly what you want, baby. What you need. Use those pretty little words."
"Please fuck me, Charles."
"Good girl." He purred, finally pushing all the way back inside you in one savage, unforgiving thrust that had you screaming into the furniture. "That's it. That's my girl. Apologizing and begging so prettily."
You gasped loudly as he began to fuck you aggressively against the counter, the punishing strokes that made the dishes rattle and your breasts bounce heavily in his hands.
"Is this what you wanted? Me filling you up and fucking you like this?" He slammed into you hard enough to make the wood creak, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force. "Answer me, mon coeur. Is this what you needed to shut the fuck up?"
You whined again as he pushed your head against the counter.
"So fucking loud," he growled, pushing your face down harder against the cool marble. "No talking back now, huh? Too busy taking my dick to joke around now."
You held onto the furniture, rolling your eyes while letting out a loud moan.
"There it is." He smirked, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure despite his rough handling. He pounded into you even harder, making the counter shake. "You like it when I fuck you like a whore, don't you?"
You nodded, moaning again. You let him use you however he wanted, not refusing the rough treatment.
"Such a good girl when my dick is inside you, aren't you?" He grunted, his rhythm turning brutal and punishing. One hand left your hip to wrap around your throat, pulling your head up slightly while choking you just enough to make your vision blur. "No more smart mouth. Just screaming and taking my cock like a nice little girlfriend."
He drove into you deep, hitting that spot that made your legs shake violently, getting another yell out of you.
"Look at you." He rasped, his grip tightening on your throat just enough to restrict your airflow, sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins.
"Can't even form a sentence. Who's the bottom now, chérie?" He slammed into you hard, grinding his hips against your ass, forcing a broken cry from your lips. "Answer me."
"I-I am." You gasped out.
"That's it." He praised, finally releasing your throat and letting your head drop back down to the cool counter. His hands moved back to your breasts, giving them a possessive squeeze as he continued to mercilessly fuck you. "No backtalk when I'm using this pretty pussy."
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, echoing off the marble furniture, obscenely loud. He watched your hands scrambling uselessly against the stone for purchase, your body jerking forward with every brutal thrust.
"Look at this mess." He growled, leaning over your back, biting down hard on your shoulder blade. "So fucking wet for me."
You tightened, getting a hiss out of your boyfriend.
"Fuck!" His hips stuttering as your pussy clenched tightly around him. "That's it, do that again." He demanded, his voice low and commanding. He wrapped a hand around your hip, pulling you back roughly onto his cock as he snapped his hips forward. "Milk my dick, baby. Show me how sorry you are."
He could tell you were about to cum, and he definitely didn't want that so soon.
"Don't you dare." He warned instantly, noticing your breathing hitch and your body beginning to tremble. He slowed his pace, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in agonizingly deep, denying you the rhythm you needed. "Ask for permission, chérie. You know the rules." He slapped your ass hard, the stinging sensation a sharp reminder.
"Please." You whined. "I'm so close, please Charles..."
"Mmm, I know you are." He whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You're practically dripping down my balls. So fucking greedy." He began to move inside you again, short, sharp thrusts designed to drive you wild. "Tell me what you need."
"Faster..." You begged him, already breathless. "Just like that."
"Like this?" He growled, picking up the brutal pace again, pounding into that sweet spot without mercy. His hand snaked between your legs, two fingers pressing firmly against your clit in time with his thrusts. "Come on then, baby. Give me what I want."
It didn't take you more that five seconds after that to come, and so did Charles.
"Fuck!" He roared, his orgasm slamming into him like a freight train.
He came hard, his vision whiting out as he filled you with hot, thick ropes of cum, as his fingers kept circling your clit, drawing out your orgasm. His hips continued to jerk forward in spasms, emptying himself inside you completely.
You closed your eyes, resting against the counter, and he collapsed forward, his chest pressing against your back as he panted heavily.
His fingers gentled on your clit, slowing to soft circles as he caught his breath. After a moment, he carefully pulled out, watching as his cum began to drip down your thighs.
Charles pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder blade, contrasting sharply with the rough treatment from moments before. Then, he turned you around gently and leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing still ragged.
You gave him a soft kiss, and he hummed softly, parting his lips to deepen it gently. His hands moved to your hips, pulling them close as he pressed more kisses to your lips, your jaw, your neck... a stark contrast to the rough handling from earlier.
"Shh... baby... I got you..."
He noticed the way you winced slightly, his cum falling down between your thighs, and the red marks his hands had left on your hips. A small smirk played on his lips as he realized the extent of his rough treatment. "Looks like I made a mess of you, mon coeur."
"Shut up." You lazily smiled, pushing him away.
He chuckled softly, stepping back to give you some space. "I'm serious though." He said, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "You need a bath. Preferably with me."
You smiled when he picked you up. "You really are pathetic for me huh."
"Absolutely." He confirmed immediately, carrying you towards the bathroom. "I'm totally pathetic for you. Can't even go ten minutes without touching you or throwing you over my shoulder like a caveman." He set you down gently in the side of the bathtub and began to run the water.
"Good." You nodded, one hand moving to try the temperature of the water. "I like you pathetic."
"Oh, you do?" He raised an eyebrow, wrapping his arms around your waist as the tub filled. "You like that your hotshot F1 champion turns into a desperate needy mess every time you look at him?"
"I'm yours, chérie. Pathetically, completely yours."
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