Sooooo could I please request a long one shot with Charles x reader I just really fell in love with this pic I mean look at him😍.. I want something by really angsty like maybe reader has made him jealous or he’s giving the reader the silent treatment I want angst and fluff and a happy ending please
A Dance of Jealousy
The club was alive with the pulse of music, the dance floor buzzing with energy as bodies swayed to the beat, flashing lights illuminating the faces of those who sought both pleasure and escape. But for you, the world seemed to fade away, your mind fixated on the sight in front of you—the sight of Vanessa, a woman you barely knew, sitting on Charles’s lap, laughing as if the two of them shared some intimate joke. The very sight of it churned something deep in your stomach, a feeling of jealousy mixed with something far more painful—rejection.
You thought you had a place in his life, even if that place wasn’t clearly defined. But in that moment, watching her cling to him in that bold, confident way, something shifted. The flicker of your heartache turned into a cold, gnawing emptiness. You couldn’t sit there, watch them, and do nothing. So, you left.
As you pushed your way through the crowd, heading to the dance floor, your heart hammered in your chest. The music throbbed in your ears, its rhythm steady and loud as if trying to drown out the bitterness seeping into your thoughts. You moved as though the music controlled your body, the deep, repetitive bass matching the pulse of your emotions as you danced harder and faster. The energy of the crowd around you was a temporary escape from the knot tightening in your chest, but then, Max appeared.
Maximilian VERSTAPPEN —a mafia leader with more power than most could ever dream of—had been making his interest in you known for weeks. He was smooth, charming, and manipulative in ways you couldn’t entirely ignore, even though you never let him get too close. But tonight, in your state of heightened emotions, you couldn’t find the strength to push him away.
Before you could protest, he was pulling you into a dance, his hands at your waist, guiding your movements as though he owned you. His touch was too familiar, too intimate, and you felt your body betray you as you let yourself go, your frustration manifesting in a frantic, almost reckless performance. Max’s eyes never left you, his grin widening as he felt your resistance crumble, but then, just when you thought it was enough, his hand slid lower, dangerously so, and his lips brushed against your ear.
Your stomach turned in protest. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t how you wanted to feel, yet the pressure of everything—the jealousy, the feeling of being replaced, of being dismissed—made it hard to resist. The touch of another man, the blatant disregard for your boundaries, was too much. The last straw was Max’s lips at your neck, a move that felt invasive, crossing a line you weren’t prepared to let anyone cross.
That was when Charles arrived.
His presence, like a thunderstorm rolling in on a clear day, swept over the dance floor. His eyes, dark and stormy, locked onto you. His jaw clenched, and in one fluid movement, he shoved Max aside. Max staggered back, confusion and shock in his eyes, but Charles didn’t even spare him another glance. All his focus was on you.
“I take my eyes off you for one second,” Charles’s voice was low, rough with anger. “And you fall into another man’s arms?”
You didn’t have the courage to respond. How could you? The anger in his voice matched the fury in your chest, but it was different—this was the anger of someone who claimed ownership, someone who wasn’t accustomed to being crossed. His gaze pierced you, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.
Charles’s hand was like iron as he gripped your arm, pulling you through the crowd without a word. You stumbled behind him, the weight of his fury settling heavily on your shoulders. People watched, some whispering, others frozen, unsure whether they should intervene.
You were too dazed to care, caught in the tight coil of your emotions. All you wanted was to escape, to find some corner of peace. But Charles wasn’t done. Not yet.
The ride to the car was a blur. He was silent, his jaw clenched as he led you to the backseat of his car with such intensity that you barely noticed the cold night air until you were seated inside. The door slammed shut, and then, the engine roared to life. You tried to speak, but no words came out.
Charles didn’t look at you. Not once. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. It felt like hours had passed, and yet not a word had been spoken. His silence was suffocating.
Was he mad at you? You knew he was. But the longer he stayed quiet, the harder it became to breathe. Silence was something you feared more than anything else. It felt like abandonment, like being invisible. Growing up, silence had always meant something was wrong—something was about to happen, something bad. A shift in the atmosphere, a tension in the air that signaled the worst.
And now, in the suffocating silence of the car, you were left to stew in your own thoughts, each one darker than the last.
You didn’t realize it then, but your childhood had left a mark. You had grown up in a household where arguments were common, but what truly haunted you was the silence that followed. The long stretches of nothingness that felt like a punishment. No words, no reassurance. Just the suffocating stillness before everything fell apart.
You had always feared being ignored. It made you feel small, invisible, like you were nothing. It had made you strive for approval from others, trying desperately to avoid the loneliness that followed silence like a shadow.
But now, with Charles beside you, ignoring you with such intensity, the weight of that childhood fear crushed you. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry at you? You could feel the tears welling up, a sharp knot in your throat that you couldn’t swallow down.
And then, he accelerated. The car surged forward, the tires screeching as Charles drove faster and faster, the city lights blurring past you in a haze of fear. You gripped the seat, your heart racing, the anxiety gnawing at you. You couldn’t breathe. The speed, the silence, the tension—it all felt like too much.
“Charles, please,” you gasped, trying to steady yourself. “Slow down.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even glance at you. It only made the fear build higher, until your breath became shallow, and your hands started shaking. The silence between you two was deafening, suffocating.
And then, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You broke. Tears started streaming down your face, hot and desperate, your chest heaving with each sob. “Please… I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I didn’t mean to…”
Finally, Charles’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, his eyes darkening with a mix of guilt and anger. He swerved the car off the main road and onto a deserted street, the engine growling in the silence as he slammed the brakes, the car screeching to a halt.
The tension in the car snapped, and for the first time, Charles turned his gaze to you—really looked at you. His eyes softened, the anger receding, but the hurt lingered.
“Don’t cry,” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly. His rough hands reached for you, cupping your face gently, brushing the tears from your cheeks. His touch was surprisingly tender, like he was trying to pull you back from the edge. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
“I’m scared of being ignored,” you whispered through your sobs, your voice trembling. “Of being invisible. It reminds me of… of my childhood. The silence. When people stopped talking to me, I felt like I was nothing.”
Charles’s expression softened with understanding. His thumb brushed over your skin again, his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know it hurt you like that.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the rawness of his emotion evident in every word. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
You felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. You had never expected Charles to be so open, so vulnerable. It was as if the storm had passed and the silence between you no longer felt like an accusation.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back, reaching for his hand, pulling it to your chest. “I’m not leaving you, Charles. I just… I didn’t know you’d be so mad. I didn’t know I meant so much to you.”
Charles stared at you, his face etched with a blend of frustration and longing. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, rubbing his thumb across your hand in slow, deliberate motions. “I’m jealous, okay? Of Max. Of anyone who dares to touch you. You’re mine, and I’ve been too damn stupid to admit it.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. The intensity of his confession hit you in waves, and suddenly, everything you’d feared seemed to dissolve. He wasn’t angry at you—he was angry because he cared so damn much.
“Charles…” you whispered, the words thick in your throat. “I’m yours, too.”
The car’s engine purred quietly now, the sharp screech of tires and the rush of speed replaced by a lingering tension in the air. The night’s events still felt like a storm, too raw, too overwhelming, but in the silence that surrounded you both now, something had shifted. It wasn’t just the apology—it was more than that. Charles had peeled back a layer of his guarded exterior, something you had never seen before.
The car’s engine idled in the silence, the world outside completely still. It felt like time had stopped. You and Charles were left in the aftermath of the storm, the tension still hanging between you like a thick fog.
But it wasn’t just anger that had brought you here. It was the fear—the kind of fear you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried to swallow it down. Fear of being ignored, of feeling invisible again. It had haunted you your whole life, and it was the one thing that made your chest tighten the most.
Charles, sensing the depth of your emotions, softened slightly, though his features were still tight with tension. He looked at you, his jaw still clenched, but now, his gaze was filled with something else—understanding. Slowly, he reached over, his rough hand brushing against yours.
“I’m not going to ignore you,” he said, his voice low and sincere, his eyes never leaving yours.
You flinched, your body trembling at the words, and a fresh wave of tears filled your eyes. You could feel the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “I don’t want to be ignored,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’ve felt invisible for so long… like I don’t matter. I just… I don’t want that with you, Charles. I don’t want to feel like I’m nothing.”
Charles’s eyes softened, and for the first time that night, you saw the vulnerability in him. The walls he had built around himself seemed to crack just a little. He reached up, cupping your face in his large hands, gently brushing away the tears that continued to fall.
“I didn’t realize it hurt you like that,” he murmured, his voice a soft contradiction to the fierce man you had known all this time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”
But then, something inside you broke. It was like all the pent-up emotions—years of insecurity and loneliness—came rushing out in a flood. You couldn’t stop yourself now. You needed him to understand.
“Growing up,” you began, your voice trembling, “it was always like that. The silence. The moments when everything stopped, and I was left alone in it. I would do something wrong, or I wouldn’t say the right thing, and then… nothing. No words. No love. Just cold silence.”
Charles’s expression hardened as he took in your words. “I didn’t know,” he said softly, his voice cracking with the weight of what you had just shared.
You let out a shaky breath, feeling the floodgates open as everything you had buried deep inside poured out. “It was always the silence that terrified me. The idea of not mattering enough to even be noticed. I thought… I thought that if I wasn’t perfect, if I wasn’t seen, then I didn’t exist. That no one would care. I’ve always been terrified of that.” Your voice broke, and the tears kept coming, but this time, they felt different. They felt like a release.
Charles didn’t say anything at first. He just held you, his arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you against his chest, as though he could shield you from the pain of your past. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his tone filled with regret. “I’ll never ignore you, not like that. You’re not invisible to me. You matter. You always have.”
You buried your face against his shirt, your fingers gripping the fabric as if you could anchor yourself to him. “Please… promise me you won’t ignore me. Promise me you won’t leave me alone like that.”
He pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes, his expression fierce, but there was tenderness in the way he held you. “I swear,” he said firmly. “I won’t ever let you feel like that again. Not with me. You’re not invisible, not to me.”
You exhaled, the weight of the fear lifting just a little. His words, his touch, his presence—it all reassured you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.
But then, something shifted in his gaze. A darkness settled over him as he looked at you, his jaw tight once more. “And Max,” he growled, the fury from earlier resurfacing in his eyes. “He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure of that.”
You flinched, instinctively pulling away from the intensity in his voice. “Charles… please don’t hurt him,” you whispered. “I just wanted to escape, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have danced with him.”
Charles’s face softened, but his grip on you didn’t loosen. “It’s not your fault. Max crossed a line, and he won’t get away with it. He made a mistake, thinking he could have you. And now he’s going to regret it.”
The possessiveness in his voice was clear, and although it sent a thrill through you, a part of you still felt uneasy about the extreme lengths he was willing to go to. But then you remembered—this was Charles. A man who had built his life on power and control. And no one, not even Max, would take what was his.
“You don’t need to do anything,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face gently. “I just want us to be okay. I want to feel like I belong… with you.”
Charles stared at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his lips parted, his voice thick with emotion. “You do belong with me,” he said quietly. “You’ve always belonged with me. And I’m not going to let anything take you away from me.”
The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt through you. You knew that Charles would do anything to keep you close, to protect you, but this—this was different. It was raw, real, and terrifying in its intensity. You had never expected this side of him.
But it felt right. It felt like you were finally seen. Finally understood.
As the silence settled again, this time it was different. There were no unspoken fears between you now. There was only understanding, and the promise of something more.
Charles let out a slow breath, his gaze softening as he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll make sure you never feel invisible again,” he said, his voice quiet but unwavering. “You’re mine. And no one—no one—will take you from me.”
In that moment, everything in you calmed. The storm had passed, and now, in his arms, you felt safe. You weren’t invisible anymore. You had a place. You had a home, and it was with Charles.
And as the car sat quietly in the night, you realized that you weren’t afraid anymore. Not of the silence, not of the fear, and not of the future. Because with him, you knew you were finally where you belonged.
