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ichorai · 4 months ago

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ménage à trois.

pairing ; lestat de lioncourt x vampire!gn!reader x louis de pointe du lac

synopsis ; “you turned him,” you said to lestat with a disapproving frown. louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “you were always the selfish one, weren’t you? i could never have anything for myself.”

words ; 3.8k

themes ; angst, a bit of fluff, vampires, polyamory

warnings / includes ; super toxic throuple dynamics, blood/murder, covers the first two episodes of iwtv, reader is a writer, louis is infatuated <3 and lestat is well... lestat...

there will be a second part (claudia incoming)!

You met Lestat de Lioncourt in 1780—six years after he was turned, and three years after you. It was a wild and tumultuous affair the two of you shared. You and Lestat clashed just as much as you molded together. While he was possessive and greedy, you longed for freedom and space. Eventually, after many bloody rows, the two of you parted ways with reluctant, half-sincere promises of a distant reunion.

Louis de Pointe du Lac was yours before he was Lestat’s, as he oft forgot. By 1908, you were a regular patron of his establishment in New Orleans—though less for the sex and more for the stories. The women there were immeasurably fascinating. With enough liquor and sweet talking, they would answer each and every burning question you had. When Louis caught wind of one of his customers bringing pencils and parchment of all things to the bedrooms, he’d confronted you about it, curious as to what you were doing to the working girls—especially when they always came out flush-faced and giggling.

“I’m a writer,” you told him with a sweet smile. Close-lipped, hiding your fangs. “I hope you don’t mind. The women here have lovely tales to tell.”

Louis returned the grin after a second to overcome his surprise. “I’m sure they do. Why here, though?”

“Your establishment has the highest rates of colored women. Not many are willing to listen to what they have to say.” You fiddled with the buttons on your jacket, and tipped your head down into a nod. “I’d best be leaving. The night is late, and the sun will greet us soon.”

“Not a morning person?” Louis asked, falling into step with you as you made your way to your convertible.

A huff of a laugh fell past your lips. “You could say that, yes.”

From then on, Louis went out of his way to greet you like clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday you came, bright-eyed and pencil ready. Those days, Louis watched you come by nightfall and leave before morning dawned, always making sure to exchange pleasantries. One of the nights, you asked if he had any stories to tell you—though there was little talking or writing that night. It was hard to jot down what he was telling you with his head between your thighs.

You were, by no means, a possessive vampire. You liked to keep your options open and drift from place to place. But around a year and a half later, you heard of Lestat landing in New Orleans, sucking the furniture stores and libraries dry—and setting his eyes on Louis. Your Louis.

You and Louis were not lovers, and the same would apply to your and Lestat’s relationship. You would say you were far closer to being friends with the two than lovers. Though… the prospect of love was not a far away concept to you. Not when it came to Lestat and Louis.

“You turned him,” you said to Lestat with a disapproving frown. Louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. Lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that Louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “You were always the selfish one, weren’t you? I could never have anything for myself.”

“I’m sorry, did I spoil your little toy?” Lestat said, leering over you with a grin.

“He wasn’t a toy. He’s a friend.”

The blonde vampire’s hands reached out to caress over your face, soft and cold. “A friend that you fucked.”

“On occasion.” Your nose wrinkled. “You fucked him, too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. It would have surprised you if Lestat hadn’t fucked Louis.

“Don’t be jealous, my darling,” he said, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll fuck you, as well. You need only ask. It has been a long while, no?”

He kissed you then, tasting of sweet blood and sharp wine. As angry as you were with him, you didn’t push him away. With Lestat, it was hard to say no. That morning, you fell asleep in his coffin, limbs woven together. Come sunset, you were already gone.

It took you a few days to get around to forgiving Lestat. Louis made you softer—his inexperience to vampire life was ever so endearing to you. When you explained to Louis that you were also a vampire—one with a deep history with his maker, he stared at you with widened eyes.

“It’s no wonder I never saw you during the day,” he said, Lestat’s arm slung around his shoulder. “But why didn’t you kill any of my girls? How could you resist it?”

“Older vampires find it easier to resist temptation,” you told him with a dangerous, fanged smile. “Besides—I wanted their stories more than I wanted their blood. I can find food… elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Louis glanced between you and Lestat, the first thought vanishing from his mind just as quickly as it came. “Wait, were you two—did you… did he turn you, too?”

A bark of a laugh fell from your lips. “Oh, Louis, my dear, no. Lestat may have left hundreds and thousands of fledglings in his bloody wake but I am not one of them. My turning will be a story for another time,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis smiled and nodded as if he was in a daze. To his side, Lestat looked visibly annoyed. Whether he was jealous of you or Louis, you couldn’t tell.

Sharing is caring, you greedy whore, you said to him without moving your lips. Lestat only stared at you with those icy blue eyes and huffed out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, since the fledgling has already taken a liking to you, would you like to stay?” Lestat gestured around his decorated halls. “There is more than enough room here for three coffins.”

As always, saying no to Lestat was usually not an option.

“You could just say you’d like me here. Don’t have to be dragging Louis into it,” you told him, patting his chest with a mocking simper.

“Yes, yes, fine—I’d like you to stay, as well. I’ve missed you terribly.” Lestat moved closer to you as if he was going to kiss you, but you leaned away at the last moment and grinned at Louis.

“Louis, hon, how about we get a nice fire started and you tell me all about what mean ol’ Lestat did to you the first few hours of your turning? I love hearing about new vampire experiences. It’s been so long I can hardly remember mine.” You offered Louis your arm and gestured to the living room. The man looked to Lestat, almost as if asking for permission, but turned away just as quickly to take your arm.

Louis, in his hunger and youth, had impulsively killed an important man in town. Lestat had already angrily berated him enough whilst tossing the body into the cremator. You were more gentle with your approach, taking Louis’ hands and goading him to wash the blood off and change into a new set of clothes that weren’t soaked with his kill.

The amusing thought that you and Lestat were raising a child and parenting together briefly crossed your mind. But then again, the two of you had both fucked Louis before and were most definitely going to again in the future, so perhaps it wasn’t the best analogy.

“Here, put this on.” you handed Louis, stripped naked and scrubbed of the blood, a fresh button-down whilst Lestat was off cleaning up the mess Louis had made. “That was real dangerous what you did back there, you know. You’ll get detectives sniffing around and swarming you like ants to a honey pot. They don’t take kindly to black folk, neither.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging on the shirt. “I was hungry.”

“I know,” you parroted, though your tone was considerably softer. You placed your cold palm against Louis’ face and he leaned into it for a few silent moments. “Just be more careful next time, alright? Lestat and I have centuries of experience between us—you can trust us.”

Louis’ face contorted at the realization. “Sometimes I forget that this is gon’ be forever. That I won’t just wake up and you two will be gone. That I’ll be human again and my brother will still be around and my ma would still be asking me to come over to her house for dinner every Sunday.”

“Forever isn’t always a bad thing,” you said, voice soft and soothing. “It is daunting, yes, but you still live from day to day just as the mortals do. You’ll grow more comfortable in your skin with time, I promise.” You hesitated to say the next few sentences. “Lestat, as much as you admire his strength, is just as afraid as you sometimes. He’s afraid of being lonely. I confess, I have been afraid to be lonely more than once myself, but I have made peace with the fact that I will be alone sometimes. Immortal life makes it inevitable. My point is, though… you aren’t alone. Lestat is not as godly as you think he is.”

“And are you?” Louis asked.

“Do you think of me as godly?”

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Most of the time.”

“I’m still a person,” you reassured him. “Lost to time, perhaps, but a person nonetheless. And you are, too.”

Your words seemed to placate Louis, though only momentarily. He parted his mouth open to say more, but Lestat dramatically stormed in the room, expression still creased with anger. After decades upon decades of knowing him, you knew by now that he would get over it eventually—it wasn’t really that big of a deal. But Louis, quite shaken up by the kill and his maker furious with him, couldn’t shrug it off as easily as you. The two of them went to their respective coffins angrily.

Hours later, whilst you were writing up drafts of your most recent discussions with a few townspeople, you heard the two of them quietly exchange words of apology and plans for the future from their coffins. You smiled down to yourself. The romance between them was strong, you knew. You wondered if you ever had the same connection with Lestat. Or even Louis. You were growing quite fond of him. And you’d always been fond of Lestat, even though he irritated you to no end.

When Louis bought the most expensive, the biggest, and the brightest club in the district, he made sure to pay all the working girls and musicians twice what they earned before. The doors were now open to anyone, not just folks with light skin. And he even had a room especially booked for you—always decked with the finest pencils and pens and papers and books and the most heavenly chairs imaginable—Louis was a man who thought out your every need. It startled you to think that your fondness for him may be far greater than just fondness. How would Lestat feel about you falling in love with his fledgling? Louis was yours first. And before that, you and Lestat were also each other’s for a time.

With Louis still at the club entertaining guests, Lestat heard your thoughts as soon as you returned from your work—you didn’t bother hiding your mind from him, because he had ways of getting information out of you regardless.

“I don’t mind,” he said, greeting you as you changed out of your attire into more comfortable clothes for home. He hung by the doorway for a moment before slinking closer to you, running his hands up and down your bare skin. “We can share, my love. I don’t mind—not with you. And I’m sure Louis wouldn’t mind sharing you with me.”

“Rather presumptuous of you,” you replied.

“Not presumptuous if you’re thinking it,” Lestat said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then several more up your neck. “Don’t resist us. It can be the three of us together. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“There’s a reason I left you in the first place,” you whispered. “You are possessive and mean when you want to be.”

Lestat tilted your face so his lips hovered just an inch over yours. “That may be true… but you’ll stay for Louis.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you better than anyone undead or alive.

“I will.”

“Good,” he said, and then kissed you as if he was going to devour you whole.

Many moons later, you walked into one of the house’s many bedrooms, about to enquire if either of the vampires had seen your notebook lying around anywhere, when you saw Louis lying on the bed, tears of red slipping down his face. Lestat dabbed the blood away with a napkin.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a concerned tone, sitting down next to him on the mattress opposite Lestat.

“My nephew,” Louis practically spat out the words as if they had scorched his tongue. “I was so afraid I would… I could hear his heart—his tiny little heart—and I wanted to rip it out and eat it. I’m a monster.”

There was a moment of silence as you studied the young fledgling.

“If you’re a monster, what does that make me?” you whispered, leaning down to press your nose to the back of his ear. “You didn’t kill him, Louis.”

“No, but I could have.” Another bloody tear slipped down his eye and slotted against his nose bridge.

Whilst Lestat wiped his face again, he said, “You have to stop seeing them, Louis. They’ll grow fearful of you if they haven’t already.”

“No,” said Louis, voice hoarse and quiet. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s a rite of passage for all of us,” Lestat went on. “If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.” Knowing Lestat’s relationship with his mother, you found his words quite ironic. Louis didn’t need to know about that right now, though.

“My siblings spent many decades looking for me once I ‘disappeared’,” you told Louis. “It hurt to distance myself from them, but I was protecting them.”

Louis glanced up at you. Sitting with your back to the lit fireplace, there seemed to be an angelic glow framing you. “I didn’t know you have siblings.”

“Had,” you corrected. “They are long gone now, though many of their children’s children and further generations remain. They lived long and happy lives even after I left.”

“I ain’t never gonna have a family of my own, am I?” Louis lamented. “No sons, no daughters.”

It was silent for a moment when you and Lestat locked eyes. The blonde looked back down at his fledgling. “We’re your family, Louis.”

“You should just throw me in the incinerator,” said Louis. “Make another one.”

“What a waste that would be,” Lestat remarked.

You nodded. “And if he did, I would rip him apart limb from limb. You are not replaceable, Louis.”

“The both of us have been on this Earth for around two centuries and we can confidently report that you have no twin,” said Lestat. “No one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddening—”

Louis frowned. “Sound like trash to me—”

“—as loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as you’ve become. You’re a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. We’d have it no other way.” Lestat waited a second before nudging you to agree with him.

“Yes,” you jumped to say, perhaps a second late. “Louis, hon, I don’t want to force you not to see your family. You’re free to tell them the truth if you’d like. Let them see you as a monster, as a murderer—because they certainly won’t see you in the same way we do. I’m just saying… letting them go may be the less painful option.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. Though he said nothing, you knew that he knew you were right.

“Here’s an idea… let’s take a holiday,” ventured Lestat. “What about Rome?”

“Rome sounds lovely,” you said with an excited grin. It had been a handful of decades since you last stepped in Europe. Most of your recent years had you traveling much of North and South America.

“Rome? Rome, like, Italy?” Louis said, cracking an eye open to scrutinize his lovers.

“Would you prefer Rome, Wisconsin?” Lestat fired back, which made Louis sit up on the bed and shake his head.

“I can’t just pick up and go to Rome. I got a business to run!”

You snaked your arms around Louis from behind and pressed your nose into his neck. You could hear his thoughts of how nice you smelled and smiled against his skin. “I’m sure you have many trusted work buddies that can manage the Azalea for a few days.”

Louis and Lestat bickered some more about transporting the coffins after that, as if they were an old married couple. You only listened in amusement and kissed down Louis' jaw.

Finally, Lestat relented his plans of Rome and instead brandished tickets to another opera.

“I can spend a few days apart from the two of you to go to Rome myself,” you said, arching your back as if you were a cat and sprawling down on the mattress to watch Louis and Lestat upside down. “I can bring back souvenirs. The Italians have the most divine oil paints—”

“Don’t go,” Louis blurted, interrupting you. “Don’t—not yet.”

For a moment, you studied him with curious eyes. His thoughts were telling you he wasn’t sure if he could handle being left on his own with Lestat without you. Codependency was a common trait amongst vampire couples, you knew this, but that didn’t mean it was at all healthy. Nonetheless, you reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I won’t leave. But we do have to get out of the country at some point—it’s important to see more than America, Louis.”

“With that, I concur,” Lestat chimed his agreement. Then, he seized both of your arms and began to drag you off the mattress until you laughed and twisted up to get onto your feet yourself. “Come, my darlings, I’ve had suits made for us.”

There was a methodology to going to the opera to keep eyes off of you. You would go in first, alone. Then Lestat, with Louis walking a pace behind him, masquerading as his valet. It was degrading, all three of you knew. But it was the early 1900s, and there was little more you could do without drawing attention from passersby.

Though the opera was a cheap affair, you were considerably entertained until the tenor entered the stage and began to sing all the wrong notes. To your ears, which were sharp, but not suited to the intricacies of musical notes, his singing was strangely off but still fine. To Lestat, however, he was not at all amused. His jaw muscles clenched and his fingers curled and uncurled over the sheet music he had brought. One glance his way and you already knew he had made his mind on who would be that evening’s supper.

Hours later, when Lestat had taken the young singer to your hotel room, you wondered if he was planning on simply fucking some sense into him before biting into his throat. Instead, Lestat sat down by the piano and played the notes, forcing the singer to sing. He pointed out each and every flaw, tone growing harsher with each mistake.

Louis watched the two with a nauseous stomach and an uneasy mind. You tried to pull him away to another room, tried to kiss him until he forgot about Lestat and his fixation on the poor man, but Louis’ mind was adrift.

“Louis, this is meant to be a vacation,” you reminded him, massaging your fingers over his tense shoulders.

“How can it be a vacation when he’s in the other room about to murder some guy for a note he sang offkey?” Louis asked, a tad too loudly for your preference.

“Lestat gets this way sometimes. You know this by now. He gets angry, he gets sucked in, he gets tunnel vision until something is done exactly how he wants it to be done. It doesn’t affect us, though, not really. Dinner is dinner, Louis.”

Louis crossed his arms. “You have animals for dinner most of the time. And you kill people who deserve it. Lestat, he just—that man could have a family, a whole life ahead of him!”

“The same could be said for the people I’ve killed,” you replied easily.

“No, no, it’s different!” he vehemently said. “You killed the rapists, the child-fiddlers, and even the slave-owners back when they were still around! Lestat, he—”

“I know,” you said, tone firm. “Louis, I know.”

“Do you, though?” Louis shook his head in incredulity at your nonchalance and walked back into the main room where Lestat had just struck the young tenor across his vocal cords, destroying them beyond repair. “Why do you do this, Lestat?”

The blonde licked the blood off his fingers. “Well, I like to do it. I enjoy it.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Louis. “You don’t have to humiliate him like that.”

In a burst of outrage, Lestat yelled, “Well, I don’t say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!”

You walked into the room at that, brows furrowed. “Will you two stop it? All this yelling and drama—this was meant to be a vacation!”

“How can it be a vacation when we haven’t even left this damned country?” Lestat bitterly replied. “I should have gone to Italy with you and left Louis here to scavenge through corpses until he rotted away.”

“You don’t mean that,” you angrily said, volume rising. “You’ve had decades to temper your anger issues, and yet you haven’t changed a single bit!”

Lestat raised his nose in defiance, picked up the tenor (who had crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap), and swiftly carried him to the couch where he would slowly drain him of his blood. Louis took to sitting and watching the dying man’s last thoughts. A part of you wondered why, if he was so horrified by Lestat's cruelty, did he bother to stay and watch—though you didn’t stick around to ask. Instead, you retired to the bedchambers without saying goodbye to either of them. Lestat left you a chalice of the singer’s blood by your coffin as an apology of sorts, but it was left untouched.

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viennakarma · 1 year ago

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Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”

You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.

You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.

Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.

One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.

“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”

You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.

And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.

You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.

“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.

So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.

“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.

Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.

You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.

The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.

When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.

You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.

But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.

You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.

“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.

“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.

“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.

“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.

“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”

“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”

“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.

“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”

You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.

“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.

“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.

“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”

“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.

“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.

"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.

Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.

Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.

You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.

You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.

Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.

“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”

You paused, your breath hitched.

“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”

You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.

The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.

“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”

You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.

When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.

Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.

“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.

Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.

The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.

Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.

The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.

One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.

“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”

“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.

Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.

“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”

“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.

“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.

Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt.

“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”

“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.

You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.

“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.

You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.

“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”

“Yes.”

Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.

You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.

“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.

“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.

You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.

“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”

“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”

You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.

The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.

“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.

“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.

“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”

“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”

Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.

The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.

You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.

The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

You all were wrong.

As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.

“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.

You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.

After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.

You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.

But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.

“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”

His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.

“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.

You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.

Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.

“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”

“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.

“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”

“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”

“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.

“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”

The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”

It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.

Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.

“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.

When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.

The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.

“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”

“Thank you for believing in me.”

“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.

You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.

“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”

That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.

As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.

When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.

You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.

That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.

It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.

You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.

You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.

But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.

“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.

Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.

“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.

“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”

Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.

“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.

“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”

The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.

“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.

“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.

“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”

You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.

“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.

You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.

“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.

“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.

“He just wants to apologize.”

“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.

During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.

When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.

“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.

“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.

“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”

“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”

“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.

You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.

Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.

“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.

“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.

“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.

“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.

“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.

“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.

“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.

“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.

“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”

“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”

“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”

“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”

“Shut up.”

“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”

“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.

The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.

“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.

It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.

Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.

You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.

“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.

You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.

“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”

The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.

“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.

He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.

“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.

You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.

Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.

None of you said a word.

When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.

The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.

When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #lestappen #Spotify

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doomedmoth · 7 months ago

Text

Better kind of best friend (part 2)

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n, slight dacryphilia

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...

Moth's prophecy💡 : Hi cryptids ! Thank you for being so supportive, here is the awaited part two with the arrival of Charles ! You can find part one here if you haven’t read it yet. For the sake of it being easier to read for everyone, the dialogues between Alex and Charles are written in English, even though they would speak French between them. We got some angst, we got some very light suggestive content, we got some manic episodes, and that should leave us with the tasty fucked up shit for the last (two lasts ?) chapters. Enjoy !

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

In a fraction of second, the room felt very cold. You suddenly took into account the breeze from the open window, and the uncomfortable scratch of the hair curlers against your scalp, itching to get off. The taste of red wine on your tongue started to feel like a thick paste, making it hard to breathe, and as you got up and away from Alexandra, your head spun, as if you had been hit by a ton of bricks. You needed some air.

“Wait !” Alexandra tried to hold your hand, bring you back down to the ground, but her fingers felt like fire against your skin, and not the enjoyable type. You tried to get away, so she rose up, closing the gap to you. “Please, listen to me… I’m sorry, I know I should have told you earlier…”

You could barely make out her voice with the sounds of the street below her apartment. And why was she looking at you like that, like a deer caught in headlights, like… Like she pitied you ? You felt sick.

“Yeah… Yeah, you should have.” You probably should have felt embarrassed yourself. Shameful you even tried something. But you quickly realized the sickness you felt was not due to shame or sadness, but anger. Two full months had passed, and not more than a day or two had gone by where you hadn’t been together. “Not once, in two months, did you think of mentioning it ?”

You heard yourself as if someone else was speaking. Thoughts swirling in your mind, replaying each of her words and action. Had you missed a hint somewhere ? Were you in the wrong here ? You could replay the movie a hundred times and still, you were sure you would find no flaw. All the nights she had fell asleep in your arms, all the kisses she had peppered your skin with, all the touches and the petnames, now you could see clearly how inappropriate they would have been for anyone with a boyfriend.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her breathing got heavier and tears started coming to her eyes, yet you had never felt so little pity towards someone. “I didn’t want it to change what we have, and it all got so confusing so quickly for me, I…”

“Because it wasn’t confusing for me ?” You raised your voice at her. You probably should not have, but she had just half-admitted to knowing her behavior had crossed some boundaries. “Please tell me you are in an open relationship. Please Alex… tell me you haven’t just lied to me.” You were pleading, begging. Don’t they say bargaining is one of the five stages of grief ? But her silence and shameful eyes gave you every answer you needed.

“I didn’t lie I… I just didn’t talk about it…”

“It’s the same fucking thing !” Definitely pushing her arms away from you, you started to gather your things from the floor of her living room. Thankfully, you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet, you thought, or the scene would have been even more embarrassing.

“I didn’t know what to do !” Tears now rolling down her pink cheeks, she was following you around, words tumbling down in a rush to get her point across. “It all happened so quickly and he’s not home and you… You’ve been everything to me, please trust me ! Y/N, please stop !” She tugged at your arm once more, and cupped your face between her hands. Still crying, she planted a soft kiss on your lips, trembling, but this time, you were the one who pulled away. “I’ve never felt this way for a girl before… I’ve never had feeling like this for another woman, or anyone truly and-“

“Oh no.” You immediately cut her off and took two steps back. “No, this is not happening.” Throwing your things in your bag in a hurry, you couldn’t even look at her anymore or else you were sure you would end up either giving in or spitting to her face. “I am not about to be your little uni experiment, your fucking distraction before you go back to the safety of a man’s arms.”

Putting your bag on your shoulder and throwing her curlers to the floor, you gave her one last look, filled with all the anger and disappointment you could muster. So that was it, then ? Fuck it, even crying she was pretty. She had fallen back down to her knees and for a second, you saw yourself laying above her, kissing her wet cheeks, brushing her hair. Maybe you could have her for a night, a few days, a parenthesis of happiness until the man returned. It could not last, but it could exist. Scraping the last bits of this relationship like the bottom of a candle, and you would keep the remnants of it in a secret part of your brain until the year ended. But you knew the pain would be too much. And it wasn’t why you came here in the first place.

“I know what I’m worth, Alex. And I’m worth more than that.”

“Ah cazzo per l’amor del cielo Y/N !” You hid yourself deeper under the cover of your bed as Chiara barged in your room. “Get out !” She pulled on the blanket, as you sighed and whined, too tired to fight. The ginger girl crouched next to you, eyes pleading. “Please make her leave, she’s been knocking on the door since we kicked her out and we can’t close, Marco forgot his keys.” She took one of your hand in hers to help you sit on the edge. “If you don’t, I honestly can’t promise she won’t come in during the night and I actually want to sleep for once. So please. Go.”

You nodded bashfully as she left the room, visibly annoyed. For two weeks now, all eight other students had had to deal with the awkward mood your friendship breakup had installed in the workshop. And that implied, unfortunately for your roommates, Alex coming in at unholy hours, begging to be heard. It was honestly a miracle no one had told you two to fuck off until now.

You pushed the curtains back as quietly as possible, peeking through the window at the entrance of the house. And indeed, there she was, banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and got up to put a coat over your pajamas. In your closet, not-so-well hidden, the scarf she had left you not long before it all went to shit… Your fingers brushed slightly over it, but you left it in place, and headed down the stairs. In the smallest living room, sipping tea and glancing at you, were your two German roommates. You mouthed a “sorry” at them, and opened the door, immediately pushing Alex away from it.

“Stop it before they call the cops on you.” You crossed your arms and took a good look at her. Fiddling with the worn-out sleeves of a sweater your recognized as yours, she looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, she was far from the walking ray of sunshine you had known. You sighed, and started walking towards the parking lot a bit further down the main path, where you knew she had probably parked. “Come. We’ve bothered them enough.”

She followed without making a sound, her head down. You recognized her car, and sat on the small low wall facing it. She tried to sit next to you, but when she felt you move away, decided to stay up. You looked at each other for a while, your silence only interrupted by a few night birds’ chirps and the waves down in the bay.

Two weeks had passed since what you called in your head “the accident”. And if you had trouble living with the aftermath, Alexandra was taking it even worse than you. In order to protect yourself and allow to maybe, one day, recover something good from it, you decided to keep your interactions strictly confined to the subject of the workshop. Considering your two roles had very little to share at this point of the project, it meant that you were pretty much free to ignore her without being too much of a bitch. And lord knew it would have been too hard to stay mad at her with extended contact. Even right now, as she raised her doe eyes at you, you could feel your confidence faltering.

When you were alone in your bed at night, cuddling the plushie she had won you at the funfair, that was when you questioned if you were doing the right thing. After all, she had not promised you anything. You had lived in fantasies, daydreams of a romance carefully crafted by your need for love. Maybe she was like that with all of her friends. Maybe you could go back to being friends.

But no. She had confessed to knowing. To lying. To having feelings too. There was no coming back from this. Only growth and lessons. And right now, this meant for you some space.

“Well, are you going to talk ?” She opened her mouth, then seemed to reconsider, and you groaned. “It’s already 10 and I’m freezing cold, if you got nothing to say I’m leaving.” You started to get up but she put her hands up.

“Wait ! Okay wait sorry, please stay…” You sat back down, closing your coat tighter. “Thank you. I… Okay hm. Putain. Bon.” She took an inspiration, and you knew this meant she was going to talk non stop until her mouth ran dry. “I’m sorry about everything that happened, from our meeting to tonight. I fucked up. I omitted things and I lied and I did everything I could to stay in your good graces because I grew so fond of you so quickly I didn’t know how to deal with it. I really thought we could be best friends and you know I’ve never been really good with girl friendships I told you about it and I admit I may have crossed the line a bit, once or twice but-“ You could not help but scoff. “What ?”

“Sorry, please do go on”

“No, what, tell me ?” She raised her hand to you, and you did not take it.

“Once or twice ? A bit ?” Her lips started trembling and you stopped her before she could start talking again. “Alex. Friends don’t do any of the shit we did. Friends probably don’t sleep almost naked together and cuddling ! God damn it, you hand-fed me pastries in my bed, and you think that’s a little over the line ?” You heard yourself screaming and tried to take a deep breath, but the freezing air only made your lungs hurt even more.

“I’m sorry ! I wish I could tell you I didn’t know but…” She was shaking, from stress or the cold, you did not know. Finally she raised her eyes, and you felt like she was going to be honest, with herself and you, for the first time in weeks. “But the truth is I knew. I knew there could be something more and I wanted it too. I… I think I still want it. But there’s-“

“There’s your boyfriend. Honestly Alex, with all due respect, fuck off. How can you tell me that straight in the eye ? I’m not some homewrecker, and to be completely honest with you” You got up and took a step forward, pushing your index finger against her shoulder. “Even if you guys broke up I wouldn’t want anything with you.” Wow. Nice lie. But at least it seemed to hurt her in all the right places. “You should have experimented back when you were single like everyone else. You played with my feelings, knowing them and knowing we had no chance at anything serious. I did not have a say in this !” At this point you were very thankful you were the only house around, because you were fully screaming. “All I wanted was to make some fucking friends Alex ! And no friend in their right mind would have done what you did to me. So please, if you have nothing more than empty apologies and more pain to offer… please leave.”

“I really like you.” She breathed out the words in a whisper, and it broke the last loose screw of your sanity.

“And I love you !” There. Out it was, your great love confession, blown away by the wind of the sea, destined to forever belong only to the cries of the seagulls. In the end, it wasn’t so hard to say. “But sometimes it’s not enough. Love isn’t enough.” Turning your back to her, you thought this was truly the end. Nothing was salvageable from that night. “Goodnight Alexandra.”

You almost ran back up the parking lot to the gate of the house, through the living room now empty, and up the stairs. You were about to enter your room, but went to the one to your left, Chiara’s. Her window was opened and she was sitting on the edge of it, smoking a joint. Of course, she had heard everything.

“Trouble in paradise ?”

“Fuck off.” You went next to her, taking the joint from her hands. From her seat, she had had a direct view of the whole scene, sound and light.

You took a drag, almost immediately coughing. The weed was disgusting, not half as good as the one you were used to, and Chiara gave you a look of approval, a kind of “it’s the only thing I could find”. Without knowing how or why, you broke down in tears.

When Charles finally hung up from his phone call with his manager, he raised his eyes to see that the taxi had already entered Monaco. The morning light was piercing through the clouds, shining on the wet pavement as to signal the end of the week-long downpour.

Finally home, he thought. He could not wait to be back at his apartment, and enjoy the rare two and a half weeks break before the last races of the year. The flight had been so long, his whole body was still sore from yesterday’s race, and still he was excited for the day to come. He would come home, and have Alexandra greeting him as usual, full of anecdotes and gossips to share. He would give her the gifts he had prepared, and then they would order from the Chinese restaurant they loved. Eat together, chill a bit, probably have sex. Then tomorrow they would go to his mom’s, take the opportunity to get a haircut, and maybe see some friends. He grinned at the perspective of a few days unplanned, going with the flow. Those were so rare nowadays.

The excitement made him tip the driver even more than usual, and he went up the stairs running, his bags almost scattering on the floor multiple times. But as he opened the door, still smiling, his excitement quickly faded. The apartment was completely empty, as if no one had been in it in weeks. He entered carefully, calling for Alexandra, but no answer. Every room still smelled of cleaning products, proof that except for the cleaning lady last Wednesday, it had been desert of any life.

Charles, starting to worry, tried calling his girlfriend multiple times, to no avail. So he threw all of his bags in the bedroom, changed his sweater, took his car keys and double of hers and decided to go check her own apartment. She was never in it, but maybe something had happened ? Thankfully, word hadn’t yet gone out that he was back, which means he was able to get his car out and through Monaco’s streets without any trouble.

The sight when he opened her door was even worse than at his own place. The usually immaculate apartment was in a mess, clothes everywhere on the floor, dishes piling up in the sink, and a good amount of paper bags from food orders scattered across the kitchen. In all of this, a few sobs could be heard.

“Alex ? Mon amour, where are you ?” Charles called out, voice cracking with concern as he navigated the mess in the apartment, searching for any sign of his girlfriend.

Finally, he found her curled up on the couch, hidden under a blanket, desperately sobbing and shaking as she held close a huge plushie he did not recognize. Charles rushed to her side, dropping to his knees next to the couch and wrapping his arms around her. She immediately pulled him in closer, drenching his sweater in tears.

“Hey, hey breathe love… what’s wrong, tell me what’s going on ?” He murmured and tried to hold her face to his, but she would always push back against his neck.

He finally managed to cup her cheeks and started to kiss her face, repeating again and again that she had to breathe. He honestly did not know what to do, he had never seen her so vulnerable, so… broken ? His heart shattered at the mere thought of what could have brought her to this point.

“I- I fucked up Charles…” Alexandra chocked out, her voice breaking in uncontrollable sobs. If she had managed to talk, she would now not let go of his arms, and Charles winced as she buried her nails in them.

“Baby tell me what happened, it can’t be that bad, it’s okay we’ll manage…”

Suddenly Alex’s eyes stayed fixated on Charles’, and her tears calmed down, along with her erratic breathing. She seemed to realize something, and started apologizing profusely. When she managed to talk again, Charles was completely lost as to what had happened.

“I’m sorry… it’s nothing, it’s just… It’s Y/N” Charles nodded. He was actually pretty excited to come back also for you, the mysterious new friend of Alex which she wouldn’t stop teasing him about. She supposedly wanted him to meet you, and Charles had been witness to so many attempts from Alex at making girl friends, he was glad she had finally managed. You seemed like a good person, from what he heard. “We… we got into an argument. We’re not friends anymore. It was my fault and it’s over.”

Charles’ brows furrowed as he helped Alex get out of the blanket. That was it ? Sure, you had seemed like an good friend to Alex, but she had lost a few friends along the way growing up, and none had ever provoked such an extreme reaction. He glanced around the room again, at the state of the whole apartment. But when his eyes landed back on Alexandra, he could feel the plea on her face to not dig much more.

Of course there was more to it. But what kind of friend’s argument would lead to someone completely breaking down like that ?

As Charles held his girlfriend to his chest, rubbing her back and slowly calming her down, he glanced at her phone, and decided he would probably get more directly from you.

Well shit, it was fancy. As you entered the restaurant in the most luxurious part of Monaco, you started to really regret your choice of clothing. Even the lady in charge of welcoming clients eyed you up and down before raising a brow, clearly not impressed.

“I have a reservation ? Well someone invited me, his name’s Charles ?” You could feel yourself blushing as she gauged you.

She then gestured for you to wait to the side as she left towards the back of the restaurant. When she came back, it was to tell you to follow her.

Hidden behind the bar, far from any windows, were a few booths, carefully covered with flower arrangements and ivy leaves curtains. In the one you followed the lady to, a man was sitting, probably around your age, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes. Some curls were falling down on his forehead, and when he raised his head and smiled at you, dimples immediately appeared. Of course he was cute. Of course she had to have a gorgeous boyfriend too.

“Y/N ! Am I pronouncing it right ?” He stood up and thanked the lady, then gestured you to sit in front of him. You nodded and sat back down with him. “So nice to finally meet you ! I’ve heard so much.”

You couldn’t say the same, unfortunately, and the chuckle that left your mouth couldn’t have been repressed even if you tried.

You thanked him, and as he gave you time to scan the menu, you could not prevent yourself from stealing glances. He was dressed pretty casually too, which made you feel better about your own outfit, but you got the same feeling from him as you did from Alexandra when you first met her. There was something rich about the man, luxurious, in the way he presented himself, smiled and talked. And god, the more you looked at him, the more you could tell why she had fallen in love with him. This was the kind of guy you only ever saw in magazines, too pretty to be true. You felt yourself getting dizzy, and put your attention back on the menu. You were probably tired and in need of caffeine, why else would you feel so weak ?

Yet you had no idea he was doing the exact same thing, going over every little detail of your face and posture in his head. He had heard from you, sure, but not as much as he told, and most importantly, he had never seen you, even in pictures. Nothing could have prepared him, honestly. There was something about you, he wasn’t sure if it was physically or in the way you held yourself, that made his heart flutter. Suddenly he felt a bit shy, and completely unable to stop peeking at you. But he quickly reminded himself of why he was here, and chased his thoughts as far away as possible.

“Thank you for coming, first of all.” You gave him a polite smile and thanked the waiter for your coffee. “I’ll be honest with you, especially on the matter of why Alex isn’t here.” There it was. You shifted in your seat, a bit uncomfortable. The closest exit was in sight, thankfully, in case he made a scene or started to threaten you. You had no idea what he knew, and it scared you a bit. “I… I came home two days ago. And Alex was…” He sour laughed, and started playing with his spoon. “A mess. I think it’s the best way to say it. I tried to make her talk but… only thing she gave away is that you two had an argument ? And that it was her fault. But I’ve never seen her like that before. I… I would like, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know what happened.”

Oh shit. So she hadn’t told him anything. Well of course, lie by omission seemed to be her thing. Were you really about to be the one to break the news to her boyfriend, who by the way seemed like a sweetheart, that her girlfriend had almost cheated ?

He gave you an encouraging smile, and you gripped your cup tighter. Why did they have to look so much alike. Everything about him was warm, kind, you could not hurt him even if you tried. What would it bring you, to do that ? Break them up ? And then what ? She was too out of it to do anything good with herself on her own. He seemed like a good person. And you were not a home wrecker. Sure, you didn’t work out. But maybe they could. You were the problem, she hadn’t fully cheated, she still had a chance at fixing up her couple. Who would you be to deny her.

“I don’t have much more to say honestly. We had a disagreement, one of which you can’t work through sometimes. It’s okay.” You gave a forced smile, and Charles was confident in that instant that there was more to it. This kind of painful conclusion, he knew them too well.

“Are you sure ? You seem upset.” You crossed your arms and he felt like he had maybe pushed too far.

“Yes. It’s been tough but I’ll get through it, and Alex will too. Maybe we’ll work it out, maybe we won’t, that’s our problem I’m afraid. Sorry you had to deal with the aftermath.”

You saw in his pinched lips, in the way his eyes scanned you, that he wanted to press further. But you wouldn’t be the truth bearer. You had done enough. Alex’s commitment to honesty would be his only way of finding out. And it seemed he realized it, because he nodded, and thanked you.

You thought you were done, but he shifted the conversation to lighter topics, your life in Monaco, how the workshop was going. He seemed really interested, and you realized you hadn’t made as much friends as you wished because of your closeness with Alex. So you gave in to the attention. And you realized you craved it, especially when it came from people who seemed a life away from you.

“What about you ? Out of state often, I understood ?”

“Why don’t you take a guess ?” He rested his face on his closed knuckles, and you closed the gap to him, faking analyzing his face. This made him chuckle, and his laugh tugged at your heart in ways you weren’t sure you liked.

“You don’t look like a business man.” He faked an offended face, then winked. Were all monegasques raised to be teases ? “Out often and comfortable with money ? We’re in a private booth where the staff seems to know you… I’d say an athlete maybe ?”

“Bingo !” He made his spoon ring on the rim of your cup, and sat back against his chair. There was a coolness in the way he moved and talked, something mesmerizing.

You thought he was collected. Truth is, thoughts raced through his brain at light speed and the more you talked, the less he listened. If there was something they had always agreed on was with Alexandra, it was that being in a relationship did not mean you found everyone but your partner disgusting suddenly. They were honest about their admiration for other’s looks and personalities, both convinced it was part of the human experience. And so he tried to persuade himself that this meeting was just that, another girl he just found pretty. And interesting. With a smooth voice. And nice fingers. Whose hair would probably look gorgeous laid out on his pillows. And fuck, he thought. That was not good. Not good at all.

Before he would start blushing again, mind filled with unholy pictures, he decided it was time to leave. You were a bit surprised at the abruptness of it, but agreed, you had things to do too. As you stood up, he looked a bit embarrassed.

“I know it might sound weird but… would you mind waiting a minute before leaving ? Giving me a head start.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and laughed. “Everything’s already paid for I’m not trying to scam you ! Just… I think it’s better for you if we don’t leave together.”

You furrowed your brows, not really understanding the request, but sat back down. You were too tired to fight about that.

“Thanks, you’re a dear. You have my number, let’s stay in touch !” And just like that, he was gone.

When you left the booth two minutes later, as requested, you heard a commotion right outside the restaurant. You quickly walked through the crowd gathering on the side of the terrace and started leaving when something caught your attention. A kid, screaming a name you had heard not so long ago.

You walked a bit further down the square and looked back to see Charles in the middle of the crowd, being photographed by paparazzis and families, signing autographs and struggling to get out. When he finally did manage, he entered a slick black car which looked like a million pounds, and left without even glancing back at the crowd.

“Charles… Monaco… Athlete…”You entered the words in Google, and found him immediately. A Formula 1 Driver. A fan favorite, it seemed. “Alex you bitch you could have warned me that he’s famous…”

Still, his request had got you out of a very sticky situation, and you were grateful you would not find yourself in newspapers tomorrow. So you switched to your text messages, and sent to Charles a thanks for the heads up.

Unknowingly to you, he sat in his parking lot for ten minutes before going back to his apartment, staring at his screen and blushing like a teenager.

Charles was tired. It had been more a week since his return, and Alexandra gave no signs of improvement, despite his tries. She would keep up the appearances in public, but made no effort at home, and avoided all friends or family gatherings he attended. And still, she would refuse to talk.

After he came back from having a drink with you, another one he did not tell Alexandra about, another one he had to sit out the excitement of in his car, another one that convinced him that you could be essential to making her feel better, because you made him feel good, he decided it was enough.

Alex was sitting on the couch, her plushie always glued to her, watching the cars go by. At least she had accepted to come back to his apartment. He brought her tea and took the plushie away from her, not without getting a whine in return.

“Alex, we need to talk.” She gave him her usual sad puppy eyes, but this time, Charles was decided to not let her manipulate him. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll be here no matter what. But you have to tell me what happened. It can’t go on like that.” Finally she sighed and sat straighter on the couch, trading her sad eyes for the stone cold face she wore when he wasn’t around.

“Yeah you’re right.” She let out a shaky breath, betraying her anxiousness, then took Charles’ hands in hers. Finally, they would maybe be able to move on. Finally he might get back his lover. “I… I lied to you. About Y/N.” Obviously, thought Charles, and though he did not want to admit it, he had a small idea of why. She planted her eyes in his, and holding his hand tighter, finally said the truth out loud. “I never told Y/N about you. I never even told her I had a boyfriend. I should have been honest from the beginning, but it got confusing very quickly, and I didn’t want to ruin… I’d say our friendship but I know it was more than that.”

He knew it. It pained him to admit it, but he had had a feeling, and his instinct rarely lied. Now the only thing left was to find out how much had happened. Unable to speak up, he nodded to encourage her to keep going.

“I was scared of losing her and losing you. I told you about her because I thought if you two met, it would just be me and my two favorites people and everything would be great. I didn’t think further than that. But… but I knew she had feelings and I liked it, I liked having someone so… devoted to me.” That didn’t surprise him. Alex had always had a praise kink, worshipping her might be the fastest way to her heart. “And I guess I ended up falling for her too.”

As Alexandra’s voice became shakier, he knew he was touching the main subject. It was already a lot, he needed to process, but he needed the full picture for it.

“Mon coeur, I need you to be completely honest. Did something happen between you two ?” He saw her hesitating for a moment, before nodding, her gaze fixed on their hands still holding.

“Yes.” She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We kissed… I pulled away but I didn’t want to.”

Charles finally pulled his hands away from hers and got up. He felt hurt. Betrayed. Used. He had been kept in the dark both by his own girlfriend and you, truly the butt of the joke. Yet he felt empty of any anger. He looked at the little decorations in the living room. They would be so easy to smash. Probably satisfying. Yet when he brushed his fingers against it, he only managed to push them back in their exact place, all perfectly symmetrical. Strangely, it brought him more comfort than punching something.

“Are you not going to say anything ?” Her voice was still shaky, he could feel she tried very hard not to cry. And the only thing he wanted was for her to break down so he could hold her as close as possible and kiss her tears.

“What does this mean for us ?” He turned back to her, and she tried to hold his gaze.

“I don’t know… I’m in love with you. I know you probably want to tell me to fuck off but I need to say the truth. This has taken nothing from us, from what I feel for you. If anything, I’m finally feeling better now that you’re back. But I can’t deny that I had never thought about… about me, and another girl, like I did with her. I’ve never felt this way, it was like my heart was so full it could explode. I don’t know what I wanted from it Charlie, I… Nothing good could have happened, I fucked up, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you.” Finally, she lost it. Tears streaming down her face, she looked exhausted. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I can’t loose you I’ll do anything but I can’t live without you Charlie…”

Charles sat next to her and she threw herself in his arms, sobbing. He could not tell her. What would he even say ? “No worries baby, I can’t even manage to get angry at you for almost cheating because I think daily of fucking the friend you had a homoerotic codependent friendship with ?”. Or maybe “I wish I could focus on reassuring you that I’m still in love with you but telling you you’re pretty when you cry is not a compliment my mom taught me ?”. In the end, he opted for kissing the top of her head and softly stroking her back.

“Okay Alex okay… calm down… We’re gonna manage…” He gave her hand a squeeze, and drying some tears with a finger, kissed her cheek. “We’ll get through this together.”

Unfortunately for Charles, Alexandra’s moods swings came back full force, and soon enough she was back to shaking in his arms, this time from despair, hands clenched into fists on her knees.

“Why… why are you so calm about this ?” She demanded, voice trembling and brows furrowed. “I’ve just confessed to kissing someone and you act like it’s no big deal !”

Charles knew all of this, knew he should be angry, and he barely stopped himself from chuckling when he looked at the little statues he wanted to smash against the floor earlier. But he felt a strange sense of understanding and compassion which only made him calmer the more he let in his own fucked up thoughts.

“It’s not that I’m not upset, mon coeur.” Charles said softly, choosing his words carefully. “I just think maybe now’s not the right time to talk about this. You’re clearly exhausted and you’ve already been very honest with me. You need to rest. And I need to process some things.”

She agreed, her shaking slowing down once more, and he finally convinced her to have a shower and get to bed. She did so without arguing more, and Charles went on his balcony, completely worn out. When he opened his phone, he was greeted with a message that made his heart jump once more.

“Thx again for the evening, it was so fun ! Hope you got home safely, xoxo”

Looking at the light of his bedroom that just turned on, he chose not to answer. The rollercoaster had been enough for today, he needed a rest too.

Though he had struggled, Charles had managed to convince Alexandra he had no intent of breaking up with her, and even that going with him to the second to last race would do her good. The weather was still good in Qatar, she could see the girls, get spoiled and pampered. He knew it would take time to get her back, and maybe she would never be exactly the same. But he wouldn’t stop trying.

On your side, you had been forced to retreat to your bedroom with your computer as none of your roommates seemed to enjoy having the race on the living room main screen at 6 in the morning. You did not care much yourself, Charles had tried to explain some basic things to you before he left but none of it was familiar for someone like you who didn’t even have her driving licence. Still, supporting friends, right ? It felt weird to call him a friend. Just as it had felt weird for Alex. You groaned, thinking that each time, you had been the problem. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else in the whole country ?

When your eyes laid back on the screen, you got reminded why. Because in his fireproof suit, sweating and winking at the camera, you had to scratch your brain with a knife to even think back of any men with as much charisma. Because his skin was soft and his hair smelt good, you knew it and you wouldn’t dare to say how. Because seeing behind him in the interview the girl you still were in love with did not diminish your attraction in the slightest. If anything, you almost threw your computer to the ground when the thought of what they looked like together kissing came to your mind.

When you came out of the bathroom, a few hours later, your phone was ringing. You answered with a smile to the man whose voice was filled with both exhaustion and excitement.

“Hey Charles ! Nice race out there !”

“Did you manage to follow everything ?”

“I did not remember shit of what you told me !” You laughed, and heard him do the same. “But you finished third ! That’s good in any sport, right ?”

“Yeah, good enough we’ll say, could have done better though.” You pictured him as he spoke, hands scratching the nape of his neck, a little smirk making his dimples appear. “Thank you for watching. I appreciate it.”

He sat on the side of his hotel bed, smiling like a child. He didn’t even know why he called you. He had plenty of people around to congratulate him. Yet it was always nice to know someone far thought of him.

“Charles…” Your voice was suddenly tinged with concern. You had seen the polite smiles and waves to the press. But you knew her, and you knew it had not gotten better. And you were done being the big girl, you needed to know. “Is Alex ok ? I’ve seen her on TV and she looks… well you know. Still not herself.”

He got back up and walked to the window, thinking of what to say. Though you had kept in touch since your first meeting, he hadn’t told you of Alex’s confession. Maybe it was time.

“Yeah… It’s been rough for her, hm… Y/N I’ve been made aware of some things and… now’s not the right time, but when we’re back in Monaco, with Alex, I think… I think we should have a talk, the three of us.”

Your heart jumped at the suggestion, guilt eating you out. So he knew. You looked at the stairs, echoes of your roommates’ laughter coming from downstairs. Yeah, you really needed some new friends, before you were about to loose another one.

“I- I’ll be there.” Charles thanked you and ended the call, promising to keep you updated. As he turned around, his own guilt trip was waiting for him in the form of Alexandra, who had just entered the room.

He braced himself for an argument. The new information of him talking to her… whatever you were for her, would surely trigger confusion, and anger. She would tell him that he was not better than her. She would probably put the blame on you. Would she try to hit him ? Mind drifting completely elsewhere, he thought it would be fun to see her try, before punching himself mentally to focus. But when she finally spoke, nothing could have prepared him.

“It’s not fair.” Her voice was breaking but she wasn’t crying, fists clenched. “It’s not fair that she’s not talking to me ! Why won’t she talk to me anymore !” She wasn’t upset because he had been talking to you. She was jealous your attention had been shifted to someone else. And as she paced around the room, Charles sat on the bed, thinking that the manic episode was about to start. “I miss her. I need her.” She came close to him and the way she held his shoulders and forced him to look her in the eye both scared and excited him. “And if my only way of getting her back is you, you best believe I’m taking my chances.”

As the day went on and Charles witnessed the evolution of his girlfriend’s almost-psychotic episode, he thought that maybe some of her ideas weren’t so bad. In the end, he wasn’t the only one who had been a little too obsessed with you recently. What if the way out of this for them, as a couple, was simply to give in ?

So he confessed to everything. Listened. Gave his opinion. Kissed every centimeter of skin he could and agreed with every idea she moaned out loud as she bounced up on him. And when she fell asleep in his arms, smiling, Charles thought that the price to pay for a ray of sunshine wasn’t so bad.

Something had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but you felt as if you were nothing more than an antelope being hunted in one of those wildlife documentaries you used to watch as a child.

Why had you even dressed up ? The dress wasn’t comfortable and way too light for December, your hair was tied too tight, but at least the staff didn’t look down on you this time. When Charles said you looked gorgeous, you thought it was not so bad, and sat straighter.

It was your first time seeing the two of them together somewhere else than on pictures. They were dressed to the nines, and matching perfectly, from the black velvety outfits to the silver of their jewelry. It seemed Alex had finally managed to sleep, because she looked as good as the first day, as good as the hot summer nights, as good as the time you kissed her. Charles was keeping his hand on her thigh, and everytime he squeezed her, you felt like you were about to faint.

You tried to be cautious. Ordering alcohol to calm your nerves had probably not been the best idea, because at some point you weren’t able to remember if their voice had always been this sultry or if you were already tipsy.

They had apologized, both of them. Alex in great details, and this time you let her talk. To be honest, you were tired. It had been long enough. You missed your friend. When she said out loud every thought that ran through your head, your last arguments all flew away. Had the two of you not suffered enough ? Had Charles not been a great meeting ? There was so much more she wanted to share with you, and you only managed to whisper littles “yes”. She would be better, she said. She promised. The best of best friends.

And so when she touched your hand, you did not retreat. And when the both of them asked you what you thought, all red smiles and white canines, you barely managed to breath out.

“Yes, sure… let’s try being friends again.”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @seoulie101 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3

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ghouldump · 4 months ago

Note

more loustat x chill/unbothered/oblivious fem reader PLEASE!!

maybe she's like been a part of their relationship for a while, and she like the fledgling of some other vampire, her and her maker were like chill and totally platonic he dipped at some point before she met loustat, and she like the sane one between them and unfortunately gets ignored/left out unfortunately

something like the scene from season 1 where Louis swims across the Mississippi river to get to Lestat, and like reader is there too cause she went w Louis and loustat being there dramatic selves while she's just like trying to talk it out like adults, and then it spirals into argument about her wanting to visit her maker because Lestat, and tbh Louis too, is petty like that

Also your iwtv fics are my life line omg!!🎀

L'amour De Ma Vie | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

I love this idea, I hope you don't mind me changing it a little bit 🩷

“Louis, Y/n, you’re both soaking wet,” Lestat sat up from the bed.

Glancing at Louis, you could tell he was seconds away from slapping the smirk from Lestat’s face. The woman, Antoinette, wrapped one of the many sheets around her body, awkwardly staring at the two of you.

“Leave,” he told her, and just like that, she was up, running out of the bedroom.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you, and we…found you,” you answered. Louis remained silent, staring at Lestat, his mind all over the place from his companion's betrayal.

You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you didn't. Your maker, Lucius, lives a polyamorous lifestyle. From the moment he turned you, becoming his daughter, you saw the plethora of women and men come and go. Eternity was too long for him to stay with one person, he'd jokingly say, leaving a trail of broken hearts.

“You put your lover on the song, and expect us to come running back to you,” Louis screamed at him.

“I wanted a clear voice, to get the-

“I don’t give a fuck,” Louis interrupted.

“Louis, we agreed that we would just talk it out,” you told him, watching as he was fuming, but he ignored your words.

“You two swam to Mississippi to find me,” Lestat kept the same expression, eyeing the both of you lustfully.

“I swim faster than I drive,” Louis said, his fangs coming out.

“We don’t have to fight like this, we can find a middle ground-

“No, why are you acting unbothered by him stepping out on both of us?” Louis asked.

“I’m not, polyamory isn’t a deal breaker for me, so I feel like-

“He cheated Y/n, whatever bullshit you were exposed to by your maker, doesn’t apply in this relationship,” he told you, catching you off guard.

“That isn’t what I’m saying, we came here because of the song but also because we’ve agreed to make things work”

“So why are you acting like you’re on his side?”

“Louis, what are you talking about? Just because I’m not as angry as you, doesn’t mean I am against you, Lucius has always said anger is-

“Do you always have to bring him up?” Lestat asked a slight frown in place.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius, are you with us, or Lucius?” He raised his voice. Furrowing your eyebrows, you were extremely confused, about how the conversation went from Lestat’s infidelity to your relationship with your maker.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing,” you said, backing away.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Louis shook his head, mentally criticizing himself for his choice of words.

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, before leaving, due to your small age difference in your makers, you were faster than Louis, going back home.

You hated this feeling, this emotion, how your mind made you think of things that never bothered you too much before, but now did. From the moment you joined their companionship, you were constantly unintentionally excluded. Even in public, you cringed at times you were assumed to be nothing more than a friend of the two.

Entering the home you had grown to love, you went upstairs, packing some clothing in a bag. You were thankful that Claudia was out hunting, knowing your departure wouldn’t be so smooth if she’d been home. Leaving the bedroom, the family portrait caught your eye, making you pout.

Claudia sat on the sofa, while you, stood next to Louis and Lestat, who leaned against the sofa. You had been hesitant to take the photos, but they all insisted. As the photographer went to snap the photo, Lestat glanced at you.

“Come closer,” he said, pulling you between him and Louis.

His hand on your waist, while Louis held your hand, you all looked like a happy family.

Wiping the tear from your eye, you thought of how despite the occasional exclusion, they did so much more that made you overlook the habit. Maybe you could just get away for a little while, before coming back home.

Glamouring your way from state to state, for well over 24 hours, before you arrived in Los Angeles. Lucius fit into the bright city where stars and beauty resided. As you drained the shipment driver, you felt your blood pumping, an adrenaline rush of excitement coursing through your veins. Lifting from the man, you looked around, sensing the familiar presence near.

“I knew it was you I was sensing,” you heard, smiling brightly, you climbed out of the truck, running into Lucius' arms. His expensive scent filled your nose, as you wiped your mouth.

“What are you wearing, my love, is this what they wear down in New Orleans?” he asked, staring at your outfit. Beige trousers, along with a light pink blouse, he shook his head in disapproval. He considered himself to have impeccable taste in clothing, but he also was old-fashioned in some ways.

“I couldn't have traveled practically in a dress,” you said.

“I am more than glad that you are here, but why so sudden? I mean, no letter or postcard”

“I just wanted to get away from home for a while”

“Those two aren't treating you right? They are easily replaceable, what have I always told you, an eternity is-

“too long to be stuck with the same person, and I should always explore my taste, I know, and Louis and Lestat are fine, I just wanted to get away, I was hoping I could stay with you, for some time, if that's alright”

“Of course, you are always welcome,” he said, walking you to his car.

He didn't live too far away, in an expensive neighborhood, his villa home, the most extravagant. Stepping out, you immediately noticed the woman, peaking from the window.

“You have company?”

“Yes, Sonya, she wants to be an actor”

“You said that weirdly, is she special, maybe a potential companion?” you asked him, grinning.

“She has very sweet blood and an equally cute face, so I keep her around”

“You were just talking about me being with the same people-

“My love, this is different, she has grown on me, yes, but I think we both know I’ll eventually crave something new,” he smirked, as he wrapped his arm around you, leading you into the house.

“Shameless,” you laughed.

“It's true, and the best part of all, when the sex is wonderful they always come running back, come on, I have an extra coffin, you can sleep in”

“I went all the way to Metairie, and nothing, what about you?” Louis announced, walking back into the house. Pacing the floor, while Lestat sat at the piano, staring off into space.

“Why is he back here, I thought we weren’t talking to him right now? And where’s Y/n?” Claudia asked.

“Not now Clau-

“She’s gone, she took some clothes and left,” Lestat finally spoke.

“She can’t be too far, we can still find her and-

“I’ve been all over Mississippi, searching, nothing, not a trace, I can’t think of where she could be and I’m not her m-” Stopping in his speech, he put his head down, clenching his jaw. His leg shook lightly, trying to contain his anger.

“What is it?” Louis asked as he and Claudia stared confusedly at him.

“She’s with her maker,” he managed to get out.

His eyes reddened as he grew angrier, Lestat couldn’t help that he was inherently jealous, unrighteously possessive, especially towards those he loved, and that was very few. You were the most relaxed, forgiving vampire he'd ever met. Extremely oblivious and doting, you'd brag to whoever would listen about how great he was.

While he and Louis held all of the attention, he could hear you bragging to some mortal how well-dressed Louis was, or how Lestat was the greatest musician to grace your ears. You would go on and on, stroking their egos, willingly accepting and loving their baggage Claudia, you were a precious gem, adored by them both.

Your personality was much calmer than theirs, while they regularly clashed, you'd be bringing up calming methods, or ignoring them, chatting with Claudia.

“You have the power over your anger, Lucius was once a cruel angry vampire until he realized it was pointless, if the situation can be fixed, then do it, but if not, leave it in the past,” you'd quote.

Lucius, Lestat hated the man greatly, despite never coming across him before. Suppose his hate began from the respect you held for the man. He was around the same age as Lestat, from Italy, and was very handsome, he'd heard you say before.

He wished he could undo time so that he could become your maker. His blood in your veins, your heart in sync with his own, his fully, bound by more than your vow of companionship. While Louis only hated the man for the weird lifestyle habits he passed along to you, Lestat loathed the idea of another being nearly as perfect as he was to you.

“Lucius speaks French too, although he's more fluent in Italian”

“Lucius is also into fashion, he used to dress me all the time”

“Lucius was once a part of an opera, but he ended up causing a bit of drama because he slept with nearly everyone who worked there”

“Lucius…”

Lestat sat frozen seething at the thought of the man. He wanted nothing more than to kill him for making his way into your heart, he couldn't care less about the kind of relationship you'd shared with him.

“Uncle Les,” Claudia called out, exchanging a look with Louis.

“We can still get her to come home, he has sent her mail before,” looking around, he sent to the pile of mail, looking through and seeing the ripped-open envelope.

“Los Angeles, she's in Los Angeles, we can find her,” Louis approached Lestat, showing him the mail.

“She's gone, she's gone back to him and left us,” Lestat mumbled to himself, already crying.

“Hey, we’re gonna find her and she'll hear out, she’ll come back home,” Louis told Lestat, also trying to convince himself, as tears dropped from his eyes.

“I’m going to bed,” Lestat sulked.

“So you can cry all night? Do you want Y/n to come back or not, I sure as hell got used to some peace around here, we have the address, we can easily find a way out there, stop being so dramatic,” Claudia screamed at him.

“I preferred her quiet,” he said, sniffling.

“We can get her back home, you know how she is, she'll want to talk it out before we're back on the road”

“The insufferable therapy sessions,” he chimed in, as he wiped his eyes.

“Exactly, we can start planning right now,” Louis said, his companion nodded in agreement.

“How much do I need to pack?” Claudia asked.

“What makes you think you could come?” Lestat asked her, crossing his legs.

“Because I care about Y/n too”

“We won't be gone for long Claudia, we're just trying to get her to come back home,” Louis said to her, watching as she stepped away.

“If Y/n was here, she would not be okay with you just leaving me here,” she said, stomping upstairs.

“Where should we start?”

“Why don’t you turn Sonya? It’s so obvious that you care about her?” You asked Lucius as you danced to the classical record, in the considerably large living room. Wearing the custom gown he'd gifted you, both of your mouths were covered in blood from the guest of the orgy he'd hosted.

It had been nearly a week of spending time with him, and you were enjoying every moment of the easygoing, carefree life.

“None of this music is as good as it once was, going to see Paganini, I had never heard an instrument played so beautifully,” he shook his head, ignoring your question.

“Lucius,” you called his name knowingly, forcing him to look at you.

“I can't turn her, I…I love her,” he admitted, dipping you.

“If you love her, you'd turn her, and you both can have eternity together,” you told him, but he smiled, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“If I love her, then I'll let her live, have children of her own, and pass on as a pretty little elderly woman,” he said.

“Very noble of you,” you joked.

“I guess, but I’ll hold on until that time comes, I have another two years, and she’ll be twenty-seven”

“Aw, Lucius, are you sure you don't want me to do it?” you asked, as he continued to dance.

“Love looks different for everyone, my love, you, of all people, understand that,” he chuckled.

“I guess you're right”

“I suppose that is why your lovers are about to burst into my home,” he said with a smile, as he held you close.

“Yeah, probably, wait, wh-

Just then, the front door burst open, Lestat and Louis storming it, although, they had different targets, rushing over. Louis stood in front of you, pulling you away, into his arms, already pleading that you forgive him for how he spoke and his recent habit of exclusion.

While Lestat instantly had Lucius against the wall, his hand to his throat. Your maker only laughed, you truly learned well, both of these men wrapped completely around your finger, and you didn't even realize it.

“Lestat, don't,” you told him, hearing his chaotic thoughts, he wanted Lucius dead.

“You leave without a word, in the middle of the night. Countless arguments, and the moment he comes up, you up and leave me, leave us,” he screamed.

“We can talk about it, but I need you to let him go, I don't want to see you two fighting, so please, just release him,” you said, exhaling a breath of air, as he let go, growling at Lucius, who nonchalantly walked to you.

“You've done so well, my love, they're like your two little dogs,” he laughed, turning off the music.

“Lucius,” you warned lightly, as he pulled you close to whisper into your ear.

“I’ll give you a bit of privacy, I presume you won't be here when am back, I want you to reach out more often, it has been fun since you've been back home”

“I will,” you nodded.

“Wonderful, I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as he went outside, flying into the air in an instant.

“What are you two doing here?” you asked them, wiping your mouth.

“What are we doing here? Did you forget that you have companions, or did you not care?” Lestat asked angrily.

“You up and left, you didn't even leave a note,” Louis said.

“Did you not care when you were in Mississippi, did you care when you brought up upbringing as if it was an insult?” the words shut them up, the guilt evident, in their eyes.

“Do you love him more, you went back to your maker because you want him more, we haven't been enough for you,” Lestat spoke.

“I'm sorry for what I said to you, I was angry and I misdirected my anger and I didn't mean to do that, especially to you,” Louis apologized.

“Apologizing is pointless, you love him more than any of us, I just need to hear you say it, perhaps that will give me the closure I need, say Lestat, I never loved you-

Bursting out laughing, you covered your mouth, waving your hand apologetically at the two.

“I'm sorry, but you two are drama queens,” you laughed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn't even take all of my clothes, or my coffin if I was leaving, I would be taking that because it’s custom,” you told them.

“Why didn't you say that in a letter?” Louis asked you.

“Because I thought about leaving for good, but then I considered how much I love you both, yes, I am oftentimes left out, but when I'm not, I feel like I'm on top of the world, and as you said, we have gotten into countless of arguments, why would I just because you brought up Lucius?”

“You're always bringing him up, comparing-

“I’m not comparing the two of you, you have a few things in common, it has only been a handful of times, but you only like the attention on you, you get so jealous at the thought of me talking about another man,” you laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous, and he's not nearly as good-looking as me,” he said.

“See, I never compared your looks, I know who looks better, Lucius doesn't come close”

“You too, Louis, jealous, worried that I wouldn't think that our relationship is enough and I’d go back to Lucius to practice his lifestyle, it's cute really, you both came scrambling out here, to win me back, I am touched and a few other things,” you continued as they approached you.

Immediately, Lestat was kissing your lips, holding you close, scared to let you slip away. Pushing away from him, you pulled Louis near, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Lestat stood behind you, kissing your neck, and tearing the dress.

“Where’s Claudia?” you asked through your moans, as each article of clothing was peeled away. Stopping, the two slowly stared at each other, before looking at you.

“She’s in New Orleans”

“You left her in New Orleans, by herself? We need to leave now, why would you do that?” you yelled, going to pack your things.

“Wait, can we finish what we started?” Louis asked his hand over the painfully stiff sensation between his legs.

“No, we need to get back to her”

“I hate when the brat is right”

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac x reader #louis x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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holylulusworld · 6 months ago

Text

Their girl

Summary: Your boss doesn’t even know your name. This doesn’t keep his guests from finding interest in you.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

Warnings: shy reader, tension, awkwardness, fluff, polyamory, love-struck mobsters

A/N: The sequel no one expected to get.

Catch up here: The nameless girl

True to their words, Steve and Bucky stood in front of your apartment the next evening.

They prepared everything for your date while you spent the better part of the day looking for a new job.

This couldn’t be real. And you believed they wanted to make fun of you by inviting you for dinner like one of the beautiful girls from the club.

“Hello doll,” Bucky lazily leaned in your door frame. He offered a bouquet of daisies to you and called you a pretty mouse.

“Sweet mouse,” Steve grinned and offered a single red rose to you, “you look…stunning.” They both looked dashing in their expensive suits, and polished shoes.

“I-sorry. I’m not ready yet and…” you nervously babbled. Still, in your oversized Peanuts shirt and sweatpants, you looked ridiculous next to them. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Why?” Bucky furrowed his brows. He looked a little hurt at your words. “Why’d you think we would not keep our word and come here to court you.”

“I,” you dropped your gaze, afraid you angered the two of them. “Men like you don’t usually pay attention to someone like me. I’m shy, meek, and a grey mouse in contrast to the dancers at the club.”

“Doll,” Bucky pushed the flowers in Steve’s hands so he could cup your face with both hands. “If we say we want to take you out,” he leaned closer to look you deep in the eyes. “We mean what we say. We want to take you out. Not one of the girls at the club nor anyone else.”

You sniffled and murmured an apology. It was strange to you that two men tried to get your attention. Life taught you that most men only like a pretty façade.

Many guys you met didn’t care if a girl was selfish, dumb, or had the worst character as long as they were pretty enough to get their attention.

“Y/N don’t apologize. I know we can be a bit overwhelming and intense,” Steve smirked when your eyes darted toward him. “Buck, tell her how much we like her.”

“Very much,” Bucky purred your name. He swiped his thumb over your lower lip only to groan deeply when you licked over his thumb and lightly sucked on it. “Fuck, Stevie. We got a dirty little mouse here.”

“Oh?” Steve watched you look at his friend like you were in a trance. “She’s such a cute surprise. Who would've thought we’d find our queen among all those boring girls.”

Bucky pecked your temple, making you sigh at the slightest touch of his lips. “We got lucky,” he said. “She’s one in a million.”

Steve chuckled at his friend’s eagerness. “How about we invite you for dinner at our home, Y/N. You can wear your cute shirt and sweatpants. We can have a sleepover and have dinner at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“We also got a job offer for you, doll,” Bucky whispered against your temple. “We got a free position in our organization.”

“Buck, that was a surprise!” Steve tutted but smirked when your eyes lit up. Losing your job at Clint’s club got you into trouble. Your landlord wants his money on time, not weeks or months later. “What do you say, doll? Do you want to come with us?”

“No.”

“No?” Bucky backpaddled at your answer. He looked you up and down, wondering if he misheard. “Did you say no?”

You took a deep breath and gathered all the courage you could muster and looked Bucky straight in the eyes.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, Mr. Barnes,” you confidentially said, even though, your voice trembled, “but you are still strangers to me. I cannot go with you, to a place I don’t know. I’m shy, not crazy.”

“Aw, she’s even cuter than I thought,” Steve chuckled at your little outburst. “You’re right, Y/N. We will wait outside of your apartment for you to get ready like gentlemen. Please excuse our forwardness.”

“Steve and I will take you out for dinner and drive you back home. We can talk about the job offer on our way to the restaurant. Only if you want to, of course,” Bucky pouted and held out his hand. “Please don’t leave us hanging.”

“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself and closed the door behind you, exhaling deeply. Your knees shook, but you were also proud of yourself for standing up against Steve and Bucky.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, smirking for a second before they chuckled.

“She’s so cute when mad,” Bucky laughed. “God, it makes me wild imagining her squirming underneath me while I take her apart. She will whimper my name and beg me to fill her up and breed her. But not before I ate her sweet cunt.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a horny dog.”

“Says the man running around with a boner since he laid eyes on our sweet mouse,” Bucky bit back. “I hope you know I’ll have her first. She will melt in my arms.”

“I hope you know Y/N is not like the other girls you easily wrapped around your fingers.”

“I know,” the brunette smirked. “That’s what I like about her, Steve. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that things would be different with Y/N. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“Phew, you got it bad for her,” Steve whistled.

“You are no better,” Bucky snickered. “I know you want to make her ours. Do not deny it. You’re in too deep yourself.”

Both men waited patiently for you to join them outside of your apartment. They offered their arm to you, acting like gentlemen while guiding you toward their car.

The ride toward the restaurant was both, exciting and a little scary. You got into a car with two strangers promising to make you their queen.

Steve held the door to the restaurant open for you while Bucky guided you inside.

“You’ll love the restaurant,” Bucky said as he pulled the chair for you. “Did I already tell you that you look beautiful tonight, doll?”

“Thank you,” you stammered. You didn’t know if he meant what he said. Your sky-blue mini-dress was far from elegant. While all the other women at the restaurant looked like they came straight out of a fashion magazine, you felt underdressed. “It’s new…”

“I like that color on you,” Steve cupped your chin with one hand to tilt your head. “It’s cute and sweet.” You gasped feeling his lips press against the corner of your mouth. “Just like you.”

Bucky’s features darkened when you leaned into his friend’s touch.

“Shall we eat, doll?” He pulled a chair for you, making your heart flutter. “Steve was right, Y/N. You look beautiful in your dress. Did you buy it only for us?”

You giggled and dropped your gaze. “No,” you lied. “I bought it some weeks ago.”

“Aw, our doll believes she can lie to us, Buck,” Steve flashed you a stunning smile. “We know that you wanted to look pretty for us, Y/N. It’s not a bad thing you want to impress us. We did the same. Bucky spent two hours in his closet to find the perfect suit only to drive to town and buy a new one.”

“Steve did the same,” Bucky grabbed a chair and moved it closer to your seat. “He just likes to make everyone believe he looks good in everything without effort, including a potato sack.”

Steve grinned and ran one hand down his chest. “I’d rock that potato sack, Barnes. You know that.”

“I bet you would,” you murmured while eyeing Steve. He looked damn good in his suit and knew it. Men like him and Bucky always know how handsome they are. “You’re both very handsome.”

“Baby, you don’t have to stroke Steve’s ego,” Bucky moved his hand to your thigh to tickle your skin. “It’s already over the top. How about you stroke mine.”

“I think yours is over the top too,” you replied and gave him a tiny smirk before clearing your throat. “So…can we talk about the job now? You got me fired last night.”

“Straight to the point. I like it,” Steve grabbed the remaining chair and moved closer to yours too. He sat down only to place his hand on your other thigh. “We need someone to take care of our paperwork for our more legal business.”

“We need someone we can trust. Steve and I are rather bored when doing office work. You on the other hand have a lot of experience,” Bucky toyed with the hem of your dress while telling you more about the position you always dreamed of.

“How do you know about my work experience?”

“Baby doll, we are enchanted by you. This doesn’t mean we let a wolf in sheep’s clothing inside the inner circle of our business.” Steve pressed a soft kiss to your neck, making you sigh. “If you want the job, it’s yours.”

Bucky mirrored his partner. He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lips nipping at the soft skin. “Oh, and the best is. You can bang your bosses…”

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #mafia au #mobster!steve rogers #mobster!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes

580 notes · View notes

kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months ago

Note

STOP YOUR BSD HEADCANONS WERE SO GOOD

thoughts of sharing nikolai and fyodor? or dazai or even sigma, your choice 🙏🏽

Thank you kindly! 😌💕

I'll give some quick HCs for all four of them, if that works for you!

Fyodor

Sharing is a no-go unless it's with someone he trusts

He trusts you to be intimate with him, but strangers and enemies are off the table

So it would probably have to be someone he's worked with and trusts; someone like Nikolai, as an example

If you wanted to have a threesome with Nikolai, Fyodor would agree (and absolutely enjoy it 😏)

Dazai is... Kind of an exception in this case?

Fyo doesn't exactly trust the bandaged detective, but I think he'd agree to it just because it could be interesting

Nikolai

YES

Though he can be a bit picky sometimes, on who else can fuck him

But in general, the answer is probably yes 🤍

Have another person use Niko's mouth while you stroke him and bite his ears

Or DP the adorable jester~

Sigma

Sharing is probably not for him?

If this is a polyamory situation and there's intimacy involved, I don't think he'd mind at all. But random threesomes? Nope. No way.

Sigma is pretty shy and reserved during sexual situations. He's not about to let just anyone inside of him, touching his body, or even see him nude

Dazai

I'm conflicted on this

Because I think Dazai can be such a little slut, but he's also very insecure about his body (his scars, specifically)

He's also not about to let some stranger start touching him. Not even through the bandages

Now if we consider someone like Chuuya... 👀

Now Dazai is all excited and can't decide where he wants Chuuya to stick his cock first 🥴

618 notes · View notes

written-in-flowers · 2 months ago

Text

Here, Hyung?: Changbin x Male!Reader

Pairing: Changbin x Male!Reader | Side Pairing(s): Chan x Male!Reader, Changbin x Hyunjin, Minho x Jisung, Ot8 x Male!Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff, | AU: idolverse! idol!au

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Word Count: 7k

Summary: Changbin drags you to the gym with him after a recording session. What starts off as a normal work out between friends becomes something much more strenuous.

Tags: polyamory, public sex, shower sex, teasing, handjob, cockwarming, voyeurism exhibitionism, group sex, foursome, body worship, muscle worship, muscle kink, gym sex, biting, spanking, rimming, anal sex, anal fingering, creampie, finishing inside, cum eating/swallowing, subby!han, dom!chan, bigdick!changbin, top!changbin, bottom!reader,

Disclaimer: This work is completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Here's What You Missed on Newbie!

Next on Newbie!

***

“That was really great, YN, but I think for ‘come inside now’, try to get it to match Felix’s ‘Hey’. Like, his line is pretty fast, so you should match that speed. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright, awesome. Whenever you’re ready.”

You loved being in the studio. Working on music makes you feel more productive. You felt alive when you sang; when you sang, you could forget whatever bothered you in the moment. Adjusting your headphones, you shook out the slowness from your sleepiness and let the music play again. This would be your first album with Stray Kids. A repackage with your first single, ‘God’s Menu’, Chan, Changbin and Han felt some new songs featuring you will endear fans to you more. They also said it showed off your singing talents. You wanted to make them proud of you, especially Chan, who had so much faith in you.

“That was good,” Chan said, approving the newest take. “Let’s go to the next line.”

“I shout my lungs out, I don’t have time to hesitate.” You sang into the microphone, following the music playing through your headphones. Yet, you thought you felt your voice crack on the last word, and you shook your head. You heard the three producers giggling, and you couldn’t help laughing with them. “Can I do that one again?”

“Don’t you want to play it?” teased Chan through the booth speaker.

“No,” you answered, smiling and laughing. “Please, no.”

“You sure?” Han asked, purposefully cracking his voice to tease you.

“We shouldn’t subject ourselves to that,” you chuckled.

You sang the line again, this time hitting every note before the trio deemed it suitable to continue. “Very good job, YNnie,” said Chan through the speaker again. “I think we’re going to finish quickly today.”

“Can I do one more take of that one?”

“Why? It’s fine.”

“I think if I add a bit of huskiness, it’ll flow into the next line better. I’d like to try it and see how it sounds.”

“Alright, sure,” he said, “I’ll keep this one and we can record that one and see?”

“Yeah, cool.”

“Cool.”

You each decided the first recording was better than the second. Chan told you he wanted to give you larger parts in some songs to showcase your vocals. He always brought out the best in his members, not letting go of a line until it was perfect. You’d grown to trust Chan to make you sound as good as he possibly could. He also grew interested in the dozens of original songs you had backlogged in your laptop, and written in your notebooks in your room. He’d seen them when he found you writing in the cafeteria before dance practice, and asked. You normally hesitated when sharing your music; it felt like sharing a piece of your soul when you did, but you showed them to Chan.

Something about the leader knocked down your walls.

“YNnie,” Changbin stood up from the couch, fixing his hair. He’d come to the studio in his work out shirt and shorts, and you knew why. “Let’s go to the gym.”

“Do we have to, hyung?” you pouted, hoping your cuteness might persuade him otherwise. “We have so much work to do here.”

"Actually, you’re done for today, hyung,” Han said, smirking as his words pushed you further to the gym-route. “We’re doing the next song tomorrow.”

“Stop being a baby,” said Changbin. “Get your stuff together and we can find a way to make you like getting healthy.”

“I’m plenty healthy,” you mumbled, grabbing your duffle bag from beside the couch.

When you reached the door, Chan caught your attention. You wished he’d worn something else other than a tight black shirt and put a cap over his soft fluffy curls. Even if the other members surpassed all idols with natural beauty, Chan always caught your eye. You stood by the door when he came over to you, Han speaking with the other producers by the boards.

“Hey, if you’re not busy later,” he said, “I thought it’d be cool if we worked on some of your songs? I’d like to add the one you told me about to the repackage album.”

“‘The View’? Oh no, that one’s not ready yet. I don’t think it’ll go well with the vibe of the repackage anyways,” you said modestly. “It’s not even finished.”

“We can work on it together,” he insisted. “I’d like you to be part of the music production too. You have all that equipment in your room; it’s like your own little studio. Why not?”

“It’s just not good.”

“You need to start having more confidence, dude,” he grinned. “Your stuff is great. I mean it.”

Compliments from Chan never cease to make your heart flutter.

“So, we’ll do that and we can get some dinner together or whatever,” he said.

“Sounds good. I mean, I’m going to be beat since Changbin will likely ride me throughout the gym,” you said, “But that sounds good to me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell him to take it easy on you,” he winked. “See you later, bro.”

“Later.”

Working out with Changbin was not on your To-Do list for today. You’d originally planned to go to the practice room for a solo practice run after recording. But when Changbin texted you a photo of his gym outfit that morning, you knew you’d be elsewhere today.

“Hyung,” you whined behind him as you walked to the company gym downstairs.

“You’ll feel better when you’re done,” Changbin said, cutting off your complaint before it began. “It’s good for you to do something besides work. You’re turning to Bangchan-hyung. He does nothing but work until he’s burnt out and running on fumes.”

“I do other stuff besides work,” you scoffed.

“Hardly. I promise,” he said, “After today, you’ll like working out. This is my mission today.”

You walked in behind him to the company gym in your plain shirt and loose shorts, very unenthusiastic about this. You went to the gym to keep up your fitness for performances, and that was all. You learned after four months of being with Stray Kids that Changbin actually enjoyed working out at the gym. This should have been obvious given the guy’s muscled arms, chest and shoulders. The same muscles that had you weak in the knees the whole time.

Memories of the last time you’d gone to the gym with Changbin made you internally cringe. You did your best not to notice his shirt clinging to his torso and biceps that day. Every time he made the softest of grunts, instant images of him making those sounds with you came. You hated being so weak for them; you should be focusing on yourself, not whatever horny desires came to you. You’d debuted, but you still needed to keep improving and working. You couldn’t let Stray Kids distract you with their gorgeous faces, perfect bodies, chaotic energy and open sexuality. While you did slightly more comfortable being open with them, you couldn’t let it slip too much.

“Or we could go to your place?” you recommended to him, putting your personal belongings in the company locker room. “Play Playstation and forget about the gym completely?”

“Another time,” he smirked. “I need a new gym buddy, and it’s going to be you.”

“Why me?” you groaned, following him to the gym area. “I’m terrible at working out.”

“That’s why,” he said. “Is it wrong for a hyung to want his dongsaeng to be fit and healthy?”

“No, but…”

Changbin brought you over to a series of mats lined up in front of a mirror. His eyes swept over you for a moment, then he said, “Don’t worry, YNie. If you get hard again, I’ll take care of it for you.”

“I won’t.”

“Sure, you won’t. Come on, pervert-”

“-I’m not a pervert-” you answered, hiding your face from him.

“Warm up with me.”

You started with simple stretches before he led you in lunges and leg swings to get your legs moving. It became a joke in the group to call you ‘Pervert’ when nobody else was around. You supposed you’d earned it with everything you’d done during pre-debut. While you might act shy about it, you did not mind it so much when they said it with affectionate, teasing smiles.

“You actually do have a good body,” he said when you both laid on your elbows and toes to do high planks. “How often did you work out before?”

“Not that often. Once a week, I think? I did most of it through dancing anyway.”

“You should come more often, especially with me and Chan-hyung.”

“Chan-hyung comes here?”

“Of course he does,” he snorted. “Where did you think he worked out?”

“His dorm. Another gym,” you guessed out loud.

Working out alone with Chan. You didn’t mind Changbin at all, but any excuse to be alone with Chan sounded great to you. Not just because he said when he fucked you, he wanted you to himself either. You enjoyed being in his company. He carried this comforting aura about him that made you feel safe. You understood why the other members felt okay being open in front of him. While you did like being in the studio with him, it was places outside the company building you liked. He often took you out to a cafe around the corner for coffee or you went to parks where you sat and ate snacks together. You talked about everything from your lives before kpop to your families and to your mornings. The warm infatuation you felt around him blossomed into a much grander feeling. When you’d both gone out for drinks after a long practice day, you both stood at the bar’s outdoor area overlooking the Han river. The wind blowing in his black hair, the dim lanterns bringing a glow to his beige skin, you realized not a single soul measured up to him. Not even Jihwan, who once owned your heart. You thought about kissing him. You wished he’d kissed you.

“You like him, huh?” Changbin asked, standing with you from the mats.

“Who?”

“Chan,” he said, “You really like him.”

“Yeah, he’s a great guy.”

He laughed, “No, I mean, like-like him, YN.”

“Oh,” you laughed nervously, looking at yourself in the mirror to avoid meeting his eyes, “I mean, wha-what makes you say that?”

“The fact that you look at him with heart eyes whenever he’s not looking at you,” he smiled. “You’re always looking for excuses to hang out with him, and just him. I know these things.”

“I don’t have a-Wha-I just admire Chan and look up to him as our leader, that’s it.”

“Ha, yeah, you want to look up to him…from your knees.”

He laughed softly when you flicked his shoulder. He brought you over to the pull down machine, since Changbin insisted you should work on your biceps and back for a bit. He helped you grab onto the handle above you, then observed as you pulled it down gently with light weights.

“You know,” he smirked as he adjusted the back to keep you from leaning, “He likes you too.”

“What? No, he doesn’t. We’re just bros. That’s it.”

“Maybe to you,” he said, “But I know Chan. He likes spending time with you in and out of the studio. He picks you to be on his team in every SKZ Code game we play. He naturally sits next to you when we go out as a group; he always chooses to walk next to you. He loves the other members, of course, but he’s taken a special interest in you.”

“Yeah,” you finished your set with a grunt, “Because I’m still new and he wants to make sure I’m adjusting okay. That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me or anything.”

“I know when somebody is in love,” he grinned knowingly.

“Psh, please.”

“Because I was the same way with Hyunjin.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, no not when he was underage,” he said quickly. “I might’ve joked with him about it, but I wasn’t serious about it until about two years ago?” He took up the bench next, and you did your best not to take in the muscles. “We grew closer, and I suddenly got butterflies around him all the time. I liked teasing and joking with him. I found reasons to be next to him, to talk to him, to laugh with him.” He smiled softly to himself as he did his first set. “I thought we’d always be only friends because he was younger, and that’s how we started out. But then, during one studio session, he kisses me. Like, randomly kisses me. Then tells me he’s always had a crush on me, and hoped that all the times I flirted with him weren’t jokes.” He stopped pulling, then stood, “Then you guys started dating?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Maybe if you two stopped dancing around one another, you might actually get somewhere.”

“It’s not like that.”

When you went over to the pull up bars, Changbin let you get into position first. He placed both his hands on either side of your torso. He then pressed his lips close to your ear, “In that case, if things aren’t like that,” his hands went to your waist, “There are seven other members who’d love to take his place. I know Hyunjin and I would love you to join us.”

“Hyung,” you breathed, a special kind of warmth running down your body now, “We’re at the gym.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” he said, grabbing your arms to place on the bar above you.

Your hands above your head, Changbin had access to the rest of you. His hands slipped through the loose holes of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin. You didn’t know if you’d be able to pull yourself up with him right behind you. Yet, you started pulling yourself up at a steady pace. It made your muscles burn slightly from the strain of lifting your body. Changbin didn’t say anything as he held onto your hips, occasionally sliding into your shirt to brush your nipples. Your eyes kept darting around the gym for a sign of a single soul, but the early hour left the place deserted. As you did a few more pull ups, you trembled at the hands going further down your body. Soon, he held you by the curves of your ass as if using you as a weight.

“Changbin-hyung,” you giggled out of embarrassment when you finally let go of the bar. “Here?”

“There’s nobody around,” he whispered, arms going around your waist and face buried in your neck. Planting gentle kisses along your collarbone, he said, “We can mess around a little bit here. I do it with Hyunjin and Chan all the time.”

You gulped imagining Chan and Changbin in a similar position. Then, you gasped when the hands on your ass gently pulled down the back of your shorts. The sudden exposure left you flustered and not sure what to do. Tightness built up in your lower gut when Changbin pressed his groin to your bare ass, the smooth fabric of his shorts dragging up the crack.

“You should do a few squats,” he said, voice low and breathy as he grabbed one of your cheeks. “It’ll help with your thighs and keep this ass in perfect shape.”

“You think my ass is nice?” you replied.

“More than nice, trust me.”

He spat on his fingers and slipped them between your cheeks. A gasp left you when the two fingers brushed right to your entrance, and you might’ve folded right then. Still, you got into the proper upright position and began taking careful squats. It didn’t help that each brush put you right against Changbin’s wet fingers. Sometimes, he’d stop you just to tease. He started with slow circles around it, going up and over at times before returning to the torturous touch. It brought on a tickling sensation that hit your core multiple times. Your loins might’ve been on fire from how he so expertly teased you. Whenever you grew shaky, he’d give a soft laugh and slide his fingers down to your balls for a few delicate rubs.

“Changbin…” you whimpered when he did this. You completely forgot the burning in your legs due to the pleasure pulsating to the apex of your thighs. “That feels so good.”

“It makes you reconsider coming to the gym with me again, huh?” he teased, pushing his finger to your hole when you stopped squatting.“I don’t mind doing this with you any time.”

One arm around your waist, he slid his hand under your shirt to tease your nipple. You did nothing to push him away; it felt too good to stop him. You wished he’d do more.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’ll want to do it all the time.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he chuckled, pushing his finger in another knuckle. Your body contorted backwards to the finger probing your ass. His thumb brushed over your middle of your nipple, adding to the arousal in your lower belly. “The gym is the best place for it. There’s lots of places for me to work out both my muscles and pretty boys like you.” You whined when he withdrew his hand, unable to avoid the emptiness he left behind. An idea came to him as he brought your lips to his, “Come to the bench press with me. You need to work out your chest.”

The bench press proved to have nothing to really do with working on your pectorals. It served to let Changbin’s fingertips sail up and down your torso teasingly between sets. He’d added weights to either side for you when he saw the normal 20kg on each side was nothing to you. The only time he did not touch you was when you were lifting, since too much distraction might make you lose your grip. When he saw you struggle on the last set, your arms burning, he straddled you to help you lift it easily. You couldn’t help noticing the bump in his shorts, and how close it was to you. With the bar out of the way, he could easily pull it out and shove it down your throat. You bit your lower lip thinking about it.

“Pervert,” Changbin laughed, shaking his head. He grabbed himself through his shorts, showing the print underneath, “You’re practically drooling for it, aren’t you?”

“No,” you said unconvincingly. “It’s just in my eye line. That’s all.”

“Just like how your pretty lips are in my eye line, right?” he said, rubbing his cock through his shorts. He moved further up the bench until his crotch was inches from your face, “Or how they’re so close they could kiss my dick through my shorts.”

“Yes,” you sighed, mouth watering from the thick outline right in front of your face.

“Go on,” he encouraged, tugging on himself, “Give it a kiss or two, if you wa-oh wow…”

Hooking your arms around his thick thighs, you started kissing right where his ballsack sat. Changbin exhaled deeply when you began a soft trail across both balls, nuzzling them to take in his natural musk through his pants. You kissed up to his shaft, though the position only allowed you halfway. You used your hands to rub the tip steadily growing upwards. You saw his eyes grow heavy with lust, and his chest started heaving slightly from your touches. Your eyes remained locked on his as you licked where his balls might be, the fabric dragging on your tongue which curved to the shape.

“You pretend to be so innocent and shy,” he laughed, doing everything in his power not to grind on your face. “But, you’re just a naughty boy, aren’t you?” When you nodded, grabbing his dick through his shorts, he groaned, “A very kinky, naughty boy.”

“It’s not my fault you all make it so easy,” you giggled. “All I have to do,” you gently slipped his shorts past just the tip, “Is exist around you and you get hard.” You delicately traced the wrinkles underneath the hard head, going down each one until you went back up. “Like, be honest, hyung. You brought me here to fuck me, not work out with me.”

“I did bring you to work out,” he said, eyes closed, “But the fucking part crossed my mind too.”

“Bunch of horndogs,” you snorted, “Every single one of you.”

“Hey, what can we say? We’re young,” he snickered, “And have a lot of pent up feelings.”

“Yeah, sure.”

A trickle of precum spilled from the tip, and you eagerly licked it up with your fingers. Changbin let out shaky breaths as you continued teasing him, gripping the barbell on the rest in front of him. Someone could walk in right then. They could hide in the equipment, pull out their phone and film you driving Changbin crazy. Something about that scared and aroused you. The idea of someone watching you always made you rock hard, especially if they filmed it for later use. You hoped for a moment someone did walk in as you pulled down his pants another inch.

“Let me get on the bench for a few sets,” he said hurriedly. “You can cockwarm me while you watch.”

He lifted his pants up and you both dismounted the bench. You kept your hands in front of your crotch, dying from being so aroused in a public place. This would be the moment that Changbin takes you to the showers, where you both finish each other off. But, instead Changbin put on the weights of the barbell as if you’d hadn’t been teasing his cock seconds ago. You couldn’t imagine how many times he’s done this that he acts so nonchalant about it. You noticed the bulge forming in his shorts, and wondered how he is not dying from shame over it. Changbin laid right on the bench to then do the most scandalous thing.

He pulled out his full cock. You thought you might be in a porn video.

“Spit on it before you sit,” he suggested, stroking himself right underneath you. “I don’t want to hurt you too badly.”

You hadn’t seen Changbin up close on comeback night. Not particularly long, he was certainly thick. It made your cock pulse. Bending down, you drooled over the head. Seeing your spit travel down before he started spreading it over, you took hold of him yourself for several long strokes. You slid the head into your mouth, hearing Changbin give a soft groan, before straddling him on the bench. Changbin gripped the barbell, eyes focused on you pulling down your pants again and aligning him with your ass. You took deep breaths in anticipation of his width stretching you, then slid down. You let out quiet moans in every inch, your heart racing and stomach tightening as he slipped further inside you. When you finally impaled yourself on him, Changbin let out a low groan that tilted his head back.

“That’s so nice,” he moaned, pushing up into you gently a few times to hear you whine his name. “Your ass is squeezing me so tightly. I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate with you warming my dick up like this.”

“You-Y-You should try, hyung. You’v-You’ve barely worked out today,” you breathed deeply, hands on his ribcage as you fought the urge to ride him. His tip pushed right to your g-spot; you almost lost your mind when he rocked into you. “You’re not the only one who cares about his members’ health and bodies.”

He chuckled at your words, then steadied his hold on the barbell. You sat on his cock, your own throbbing on his stomach in your pants, as he lifted it up and down with ease. His muscles bulged in each angle, his chest and shoulders working themselves each time. You felt up his abdomen when he took a break, feeling to his chest and rubbing along the line between his pectorals. His muscle shirt created a thin barrier between your fingers and his nipples. This distracted him a moment, so he placed the barbell on the rest as his body twitched under you.

“YN…” he laughed, eyes closed.

“I just want to make sure you’re steady,” you said, feeling back down his body. “You have such nice muscles. I want to feel them while you fuck me.”

“In that case,” he took hold of the barbell again, “I should work them out a bit more for you.”

You continued rubbing up and down Changbin’s chest, his muscles moving underneath your hands. The temptation to start riding him came hard, and you found yourself squirming for him to move inside you. You thought he might give in with how you clenched around him, but Changbin maintained his workout. He continued pumping the barbell up and down, taking steady breaths, while still enjoying your hands and ass on him. The small worry that someone might come in and see you sitting on top of Changbin like this came to you again. Your ears kept trying to find the slightest sound of a footstep or door opening as you sat there. But, your burning arousal made it harder to care.

“Ugh!” Changbin grunted on the last lift, setting the bar back on the rest. He held onto your hips, keeping you in place as he started rocking himself to you. You thought you might lose it right there, his tip pressing deep inside you. “I think we’re done for today,” he groaned, “We can continue this workout in the shower?”

“Yes, please.”

You tried not whining too loudly as you forced yourself off him. Your cock tapped against your stomach now, which Changbin noticed right away. Even though you both pulled your pants back up, hands still sunk back into them as you kissed. You whimpered into Changbin’s mouth, tongue battling with his own while he fondled you gently. The touch sent you in a whirlwind. Your desire burned hot, bringing up a surge of excitement during your walk to the locker rooms nearby.

Changbin barely waited to start undressing you. Your back pressed to the cold steel lockers, you kicked off shoes and tore off socks before working on each other’s shirts and pants. Seeing him bare in front of you, cock stiff to his stomach, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling him all over. You kissed down his neck to his pecs, where you sucked the soft flesh until the spots turned purple. Changbin hissed, but did not discourage you. Your fingers went down his defined abdomen, almost counting each one before reaching the top of his erection. But, you then reached around to feel his strong back muscles. They flexed at your touch, and you moaned.

“You’re so strong, hyung,” you moaned, gripping his broad shoulders and locked yourself around his waist. He carried you to the shower stalls easily; he might have been carrying a lightweight box, in your opinion. “You’re so much bigger than me…It’s so hot,” you giggled.

“Do you like that I’m wider?” he asked, turned on by your response. He put you to the wall as he turned on the shower in the nearest stall.

“I do,” you whimpered. Your cocks pressed together, you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on him. “I like being thrown around and manhandled by bigger guys.”

“I can definitely throw you around,” he smirked.

He set you down to turn on the shower, then immediately brought you underneath it. The gentle rainfall sprayed over the pair of you; streams slipped between you even in your kisses, falling down your bodies to the floor. Your hands found his pecs again, which you squeezed softly to hear him groan in your mouth. Being this close to him, getting to enjoy his body freely, felt liberating. For years, you felt scared to show even an ounce of interest in another man. The lingering nightmare that someone outside the company found out and your career would be ruined forever often came to you. Beomgyu’s hurtful words and fists became a harsh lesson in showing that who you truly were wasn’t allowed. He would’ve put you in the hospital if the manager hadn’t walked in on it. As Changbin’s hands gently caressed you, you thought of them being harsher and rougher with you. He could break you easily, like Beomgyu.

“What’s wrong?” Changbin’s voice pulled you away, though he simply switched to kissing your neck.

“This feels…good.”

“I know,” he smirked against your throat, leaving a soft bite and lick before moving back down. “It does for me too.”

“No, not just like that.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve never done this with a guy before,” you said, breathless as you felt his hands grab your ass. “I was always scared they might reject me or hurt me. I was always afraid of getting caught. I’ve kept who I was a secret for a long time. I know I still have to, but…”

“Not with us?” he finished your sentence, kissing the other side of your neck as he kneaded your bottom.

“Yeah.”

“Good, because you shouldn’t,” he slipped his hand down your front to your aching dick, “The only pain you’ll get with us is a few hard smacks to the ass, and lots of edging. Particularly with Chan and I,” he kissed you right as you moaned at his touch. “I love seeing the pretty ones wriggle,” he started stroking you slowly, “And whine while I keep them on the edge. Do you like that?”

“I’ve done it to myself,” you admitted, head falling back as more water continued spraying on you, “But not with another person.”

“Then we can do it another time. Time is pretty limited,” he said, thumb massaging your tip, “And I need to have you right now. Turn around, baby.”

You faced the wall, breath growing heavy with anticipation. Changbin crouched down and spread your ass cheeks apart. Water ran down your back to your bottom, where it slipped between your parted buttocks and over the tight hole. It teased the tight sensation in your balls; shooting up to your leaking tip. Changbin’s tongue created a different type of wetness that made you lean into the tiled wall. The tip of his tongue circled and flicked at it, while his hands continued squeezing your cheeks. You even gave a small yelp when he spanked one side, enjoying the small spark of pain and pleasure. Soon, he stood, and your fingers curled to your palms in fists. He did not shove himself into you immediately, though you felt his temptation clear.

“Relax,” he said softly in your ear, tip pressed to your entrance, “Relax for me, baby.”

You tried, but your body still jumped when he pushed the first inch inside you. It certainly stretched. He took a few careful pumps with the one inch before adding a second, then a third. Each time had you simultaneously wanting him to rail you and keeping it slow to make it last. Any moment, you knew, someone could walk in and hear your labored breathing and faint moans. Much like the times before, public sex made you eager for a hard orgasm. The moment Changbin fully filled you, you fell into a spiral of bliss.

“How’s that? It doesn’t hurt too much?” he asked with concern, keeping himself hilt deep to let your body adjust. “Do you want me to take it out?”

“No, no,” you said quickly, “Keep it in me. Fuck me, hyung. Please. I want it so bad.”

Changbin somehow kept a handle on his desires, because he kept the same careful speed. He gave small slaps to your ass, pinching and grabbing the tops of your cheeks to distract you. When he saw this only made you hornier, he kept doing it.

“I think our team might have a new butt,” he said, pushing deep into you as he brought you to his chest. “Yours is so nice. It’s all round and a little plump. It’s just enough to grab onto while I fuck your tight hole.”

His dirty talk only added to the pleasure wracking your body. You reached down to your cock, fiercely stroking to chase down your orgasm. Changbin did not stop you from pushing into his hips, clearly content with letting you use him. His own moans joined yours when you went faster.

“Just like that,” he said, smacking your ass again, “Fuck my dick like that. I want to cum in this nice ass of yours.”

“Yes, please, hyung,” you said, forehead against the tile floor as your body tensed. “Cum inside me. I want your cum dripping out of me, please.”

Suddenly, as if the fates hated you, the shower room door opened. Who the hell could be using the shower first? Changbin stopped right away, alert to the sound and stayed planted inside you. Your body shook against the wall, and you clawed at the grout between the tiles from frustration. Soft footsteps hit the tile floors, likely slippers, as they came further into the room. Panic slowly started setting in when a voice rang out.

“Changbin-hyung? Are you in here?”

Han. You recognized his voice right away, but the panic did not go away.

“Hannie?” Changbin asked, surprised.

“I came to work out. Hyunjin said you and YN might still be here,” he said. “Did he leave already? I didn’t see him outside.”

“No, he’s…He’s here.”

Han paused, then stifled a giggle. “Really? Here, hyung?”

“It just happened,” he said, kissing your neck and feeling safe enough to pull you into him. “He’s so pretty.”

“God, you’re such a slut,” he huffed. “I’ll tell Chan you guys are in here.”

Chan was here? Why did that turn you on more? Changbin and you resumed what you’d been doing, this time with him taking over jerking you off in time with his thrusts. You couldn’t hold back anymore. Your knees and legs started shaking as your orgasm approached. Changbin, sensing this, picked up the pace. The two of you thought Han went back outside before a rush of cold hit you from the shower door. Han stood in his usual gym clothes, smirking with his arm crossed. His eyes scanned down your naked bodies, then stopped where they met. Changbin stopped a second time, head resting on your shoulder, as he took deep breaths.

“Don’t you know not to open a shower door?” he asked, unable to keep himself from grinding into you. “We’re busy.”

“I wanted to watch,” he said. “I’ve never seen YN be the bottom.”

A second person then appeared, and you thought you might cum right then. Chan stood in a sleeveless shirt and shorts, his black curls back from his face. He said nothing as he took in the steamy scene before him. Your eyes met his and you didn’t know what to do except moan. Having the two men watch you made your entire body burn with desire. Your back arched, hands pressed flat on the wall, as you started meeting Changbin’s hips. None of you said anything. Han and Chan started stripping off their clothes, and the more they revealed, the hornier you became.

“God, you’re leaking all over the place, YN-hyung,” Han said in a low voice, taking hold of your dripping cock. He swiped a bit of precum with his thumb to taste it. “You do taste good. Too good.”

“Oh god…” was all you could say, mouth hanging open.

“I was telling him he’s our team’s new butt,” said Changbin, stuffing himself to the brim. “Don’t you think so, Chan-hyung? His ass is as nice as yours, and naturally too.”

“What does that mean?” Chan asked with a laugh, slapping Changbin’s backside.

“He doesn’t have to do squats for it,” Han said, who began kissing at your neck. “Can you fuck me, hyung?” he asked you in your ear, “Hyunjin and Felix always talk about your dick. I want to ride it too.”

“Did your owner say you could?” asked Chan playfully, pushing hair back from your face.

“Yes,” Han said defensively. “You can call and ask. YN’s part of the team now, so he said I could.”

“I don’t have to,” said Chan. “You’re the one he’s going to punish. Not me.”

“Can you both shut the fuck up so I can fuck YN?” Changbin snapped, stopping a third time and driving you insane.

“Are you having trouble concentrating, Binnie?” Chan teased, hand fondling Changbin’s ass. “I thought you’d be so into YN, you wouldn’t notice us right here next to you.”

“If you two would shut up for like two or three more minutes,” he said, his hips snapping into yours.

“Two or three minutes?” Chan smirked. “I’ve seen you last longer than that. You don’t want to leave our newest member wanting because you can’t hold it.”

“Fuck you,” he laughed through gritted teeth. “I’ve been horny all day, and then I have him looking so good in front of me…A slutty pretty boy who loves being fucked in public,” he gave your ass a few smacks, making you whimper and yelp in pleasure. “Isn’t that what you are, YN? A slut?” he yanked your head back and went faster, and you thought you might cum right then. When you did not answer, he slapped your ass again. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you cried at a few more spanks. “Yes, I am.”

The three members laughed, “Good,” said Han, going back to stroking your dick, “I’m a slut too. We can be sluts together.”

“And I love watching sluts get fucked,” Chan told you, pinching your nipple hard. “I love watching you get fucked,” he said in your ear, kissing the lobe before giving it a light tug with his teeth. “Let Changbin finish you off, cutie. I want to watch you cum the way you did last time.”

Changbin kept the same speed, driving you mad with pleasure as the other two continued touching you both. Your moans and groans ricocheting off the shower walls, none of you caring if you’d be overheard. Balls slapping, hips meeting and hands smacking asses, you’re sure you were a delicious sight for a nearby Bangchan and Han. The latter steadily worked your dick for you, squeezing the tip and rubbing his palm over it until the sensitivity made you tremble. Chan worked your balls, reaching far enough to fondle them in his hand. You knew at this rate you’d spray cum all over the wall and floor.

“You look so beautiful like this, YN-ie,” Changbing said so only you heard him, “All fucked out and desperate to cum. Be a good boy and cum for Channie-hyung. I know he’d like to see his precious boy cum all over himself.” He bottomed up into you, “I’ll be right behind you, baby. Go ahead and show them.”

Eventually, your nails dug into your palms and your body started trembling.

“There you go,” Chan said, “Go on. Cum for us. You can do it.”

“Shoot a big load for me,” said Han, licking up your neck as he moved his hand faster. “A nice thick, creamy one for me to lick off you.”

Your entire body came at the mercy of your orgasm. Your back arched, giving Changbin a new angle, and your back went back. Hot cum leaked out of your tip, down your head to Han’s fingers. This didn’t stop him at all. All three men assaulted you with pleasure that prolonged your orgasm until you became too sensitive to handle it. Even then, the barrage did not stop. Han crouched down and did as he’d said: he gingerly and lightly licked up your cock, swallowing the bits on his tongue. You shuddered each time he passed over the head, the most sensitive spot that made your mind blank.

“Trust me,” Chan said, “If you need a place to dump your load, Han’s your guy. He loves cum more than what should be allowed. I’m surprised we haven’t had to pump his stomach,” he chuckled softly, kissing your neck softly.

“It’s yummy,” Han said, not denying the fact at all. “I like when it twitches in my mouth and throat; it makes me so hard so fast.”

“Shut. Up,” grunted Changbin. “I’m-I-I’m alm-most there.”

Finally, a distinct heat filled your own insides. It sprayed over your walls, and soon leaked down to your balls. Changbin’s loud groans could’ve been heard anywhere, but he didn’t care as he gripped your ass hard and pounded out his orgasm. The two of you took deep breaths, slumping against one another under the shower. Changbin kept you in his hold, not as tight but he kept you close. Neither of you spoke, and you felt yourself riding a whole new high.

“How’d you feel, baby?” Changbin asked, kissing your cheek softly. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

“Ask me in a few hours,” you laughed, eyes closed as you basked in the glow.

The four of you laughed, and you and Changbin rinsed one another off before leaving the stall together. Any stress from before had pumped itself out of you, and you felt light as a feather. While Han and Chan stayed in the shower, likely about to work on one another, you and Changbin left for the locker room. You forced yourself to dry off, knowing you’ll be properly washing at home, because your body screamed for rest. When you sat down to pull on socks and shoes, Changbin sat on the bench in front of you.

“I told you he liked you,” said Changbin. “If he just wanted to screw you, he would’ve done it; not wait until it’s just you two to do it.”

“He probably didn’t want to be rushed,” Sitting down proved to be a bad idea, and you quickly pulled on both your shoes. “Some guys can’t perform under pressure,” you grinned over at him.

“It’s hard to concentrate with them talking so much,” he said, blushing and tapping your foot with his.

“But you were talking too, hyung,” you laughed, grabbing your bag and following him out of the gym.

“A bit of dirty talk isn’t a big deal, but I wanted to focus on getting you there,” he stopped by the door to plant a kiss on you. “I wanted you to cum as hard as you could, and I can’t do that if they’re yapping away.”

The both of you laughed, sharing another kiss, before leaving the locker room. You climbed into Changbin’s car when you reached it, and you thought you might fall asleep in the passenger seat. You each decided a good lunch was in order, so Changbin drove to a place he loved. While you waited for your food at a pick up spot, your phone buzzed.

‘You did great today,’ Chan’s message read. ‘In the studio and in the shower 😉 How’re you feeling?’

You squirmed from the butterflies in your stomach.

‘We’re getting food, so I’ll likely be out of order for the rest of the day lol’

‘I know Innie keeps ice packs in your freezer, so I recommend using those haha Changbin is big in lots of ways.’

“He’s texting you, isn’t he?” Changbin asked, a teasing grin on his face.

“He’s only checking on me.”

“Hmph, strange. He isn’t texting me to check on me.”

“You weren’t the bottom.”

“But I was there.”

‘I still want to go over that song you’ve been working on. You haven’t shown it to me.’

‘I told you it’s not ready.’

‘But, you said you’re stuck on it. I could help you get it right. I love your music.’

“He loves your music, huh?”

“Changbin-hyung!” you put your phone to your chest.

“He’s in love with you,” he said, picking up paper bags from the counter. “Just deal with it, and help me take this stuff to the car.”

No way. Bangchan isn’t in love with you.

He’s only being a good leader and friend.

***

A/N: Gym sex with Changbin was far too good to pass up, huh? lol I hope you guys liked this one! Feel free to comment/reblog to let me know what you think! <3

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