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formula1blog · 8 days

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Traitor- CL16

Part 1- Traitor ( you are here)

Part 2- Take me back to the night we met

Part 3- Bust your windows out your car

Boyfriend Charles Leclerc x singer Fem!Reader

Summary: You found out that your boyfriend cheated on you and your friends help you pack up.

wc: 1200+

A/N: I am using Alex for the photos, but of course no hate to her.

F1Gossip

F1Gossip: Charles Leclerc spotted on a yacht with a mysterious woman. Are Charles and singer Y/N L/N, his 'current' girlfriend, broken up after five years of dating?

Cl16ferarri: Charles nooo

Y/NisBest: All Men do is lie

F1Ferarrifan: I can't defend you anymore Charles. WHYYYY

Y/n/Charles: They were suppose to get married.

-> clsuppermarcy: they were together for 5 years. How can that not mean anything to him???

Lovegossip: Maybe they just broke up. He didn't have to cheat.

User682: Home wrecker

LebeYN: I feel a new album coming

-> SingerF1: I hope so

HateYm: Finally, i hated her

-> Supportynalways: Fuck off

-------------

You couldn't believe it. When you opened up Twitter and saw that your boyfriend, now an ex-boyfriend, was trending you didn't expect it to be because of this. Charles had been spotted with a woman on a yacht. They were standing to close to each other, to close to be friends. Your gut feelings were confirmed when you saw the next photo. They were laying on a sunbed, this woman on top of Charles, making out. The next photo was Charles kissing her, it kept going.

You had felt sick to your stomach by the look of it. How could you be so stupid to let this happen. He had told you that he was going to a meeting with his team. Well this looked highly unprofessional and definitely a job for HR. Did those five years mean nothing to him?

You had gotten up from the couch to pack your bags. You were still in your apartment, in Charles apartment. You tried to get everything in your suitcases, not wanting to go back and see Charles. You know that if he asks to forgive him you wouldn't be able to resist him.

You heard your phone ringing and saw that it was Pierre. Not knowing if Pierre already knew and wanted to talk about that or if it was an emergency, you picked up. "Bonjour Pierre," you greeted through the phone. You placed the phone on the duvet so you could continue while speaking. "Salut, are you okay?" he asked right away. Was Pierre really asking you this, probably knowing what is going on. Being Charles' s best friend he should not be doing this.

Placing some clothes inside the suitcase you answered "Never been better," The answer was filled with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tears were now streaming down your face as you tried to keep your breathing steady. "I am going to get you with Kika. We will be there in 20 minutes, please don't leave." you heard a car start in the background and you couldn't believe what was happening. Even though you, Pierre and Kika were close, you were friends with them because of Charles. Charles had been the one to introduce you to his best friend, who later became one of your closest friends. "You don't have to. I can just take a cab to the airport, you don't have to ruin your time." you snicked.

You heard a voice in the background of the phone and before you knew it Kika's voice was filling the phone speaker. "Hello Honey, don't even try to resist. We will pick you up. You are in no state to be alone. We will get some take out and watch a movie. " you smile at her comment. You love her for this.

"Wouldn't it be weird for Pierre. I mean that jerk is his best friend." you heard a soft 'put it on speaker' before hearing the french mans voice again. "He is, but not right now. I don't tolerate cheating. I will not take his side on this." laughing you finally agree with their suggestion of picking you up. "Alright, I am still packing so you don't need to be so fast. I am trying to get five whole years into two suitcases. "

Everywhere you looked in the apartment it reminded you of Charles. He had asked you to move in after 1 year of dating and you had abruptly moved all your possessions into his apartment. It had become your home. You had filled it with furniture you found in stores. Your plants were in all the Corners and there was no way to take those all with you. Pictures of you and Charles were standing on your nightstand, his eyes looking right at you. Had you been so blind to see that it was all fake?

He hadn't even tried to call you after the gossip was all on the internet. You knew that he had seen it, that boy was always looking up his own name. He had to know what people were thinking of him. He had seen the pictures, seen the way people were thinking and he didn't even try to talk to you.

You heard a knock on the door and screamed that the door was open. Not even ten seconds later Kika was by your side and took you into a hug. "I am so sorry honey. Men are truely awful." you couldn't help but let tears stream down your face as your wrapped your arms around the Portuguese woman. "Don't let your boyfriend hear that." you joked and

"I am not here to judge, only to carry your stuff out of here. I have an extra box for your books."He held up a big carton box, two more laying next to him "I don't know if everything fits if you need more stuff in these, but at least more than those suitcases. " Pierre walked towards the bookshelf which was mostly filled with your books. You have always adored reading, but because of your singing career you didn't have much time for it. "Just tell me which one are you favorites and I put them all in and move them to my car. We do need to hurry a bit because I know that Charles is on a flight back."

Of course that man was coming back home. That is why she wanted to leave so fast as she could to do everything to avoid that jerk. "If you can grab all the limited edition and hardcover ones first that would be great. For the rest just fill them with what space is left. I am really thankful for your help." Pierre shrugs his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal. He started to place all the books carefully into the boxes. Kika had walked to your bathroom to get your make up and skin care products.

After ten more minutes of packing up and checking if you had all the important stuff, you three left the apartment and walked towards Pierre's car with the suitcases. Kika went to sit next to you in the back and Pierre behind the wheel. "What do you want to eat?" the model asked. You didn't really mind so long it wasn't ice cream. Charles had taken a lot of his own brand home but his trainer didn't let him eat it, so you had been trying to get rid of all those tubs by eating them. "I just want some sloppy, salty McDonalds fries. And maybe a burger."

Pierre had put it on the radio and started to drive to the main road. "McDonalds it is."

Part 2

#charles leclerc 16 #charles lecrelc #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #pierre gasly #kika gomes #charles leclerc

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eryiss · 3 years

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Ship: Freed x Laxus [Fraxus]

Rating: Teen

Alternate Links: Fanfiction, Archive of our Own

Request: Something based off the official Rockband Raijinshuu art.

Summary: Being a rockstar, Laxus had to endure far too many chat shows. Usually he would grin and bear it, let the pointlessness of it roll off his back, but not this time. He was alone, forced to keep his budding relationship with Freed secret, and done with it. Fucking done with it all! But he had a way to fix it, and all it would take was a little courage.

Notes: This was a request by @fuckyeahfraxus. Just a warning, it has a bit of homophobia near the end, but nothing too vicious. I hope you enjoy it.

The Life Of A Song

Fuck chat shows. Fuck their hosts. Fuck their producers. Fuck their directors. Fuck their too-hot lighting, their stupid uncomfortable sofas, their tiny changing room's, their cramped green rooms with too many camera, their always cheering audiences and their utter lack of anything interesting or unique. Fuck the whole damn thing.

But Laxus' opinions on the matter weren't important. What did matter was that he smiled, laughed, told anecdotes and sat in a way that showed off his thighs and crotch just enough so that his Twitter stans - what a shitty word - made him trend once it was over.

Still, fuck chat shows.

This particular show, Late With Jase, was one of the worst. The host was young, overly enthusiastic, and his name was Jason rather than Jase which pissed Laxus off more than it should. He'd somehow dragged an audience of Netflix only watchers back to mainstream, with a mix of meme crap that Laxus cringed at, and celebrity gossip that would make a tabloid envious. But the ratings were skyrocketing, celebrities who went there usually got a boost in sales of their latest projects, and Laxus' manager had insisted he take his turn.

It would have been fine, were he not alone. If Ever, Bix and Freed were with him, they could take the responsibility and he could fade into the background. They had been a band for years, and that was how they always dealt with interviews. But they weren't there, because according to their management, Laxus was the moneymaker and all they needed.

"So Laxus," Jason turned in his chair to look at him. "Let's talk about Thunderstruck. What a success that's been? You must be thrilled.”

"It's doing well, yeah," Laxus nodded. He wanted to cringe at his words.

"It's doing more than well. You can hardly escape it," Jason laughed, and the crowd laughed with him. Laxus chuckled, even though he didn't find it funny. "But this is the first song that you've written, isn't it? And it's one of the most popular you've had. Must feel good."

"Well, it wasn't just me," Laxus swallowed slightly. "Everything we make is collaborative. Freed worked with the lyrics a lot, and Ever composed it."

"They're your bass player and electric guitar player, right?"

"I wouldn't call them mine," Laxus mumbled slightly.

There was a beat of awkward silence, and Laxus relished it just a little. Jason recovered quickly, which was annoying, and flashed a happy smile. Laxus would have preferred the man to stew in the uncomfortable silence, it would be a fitting response to him being dismissive of the band's contributions, but perhaps it was a childish way to think of things.

"Well we'll be hearing the song live at the end of the show," Jason continued, and Laxus' eyebrow twitched. The rest of the band were in the damn building and yet were being treated like shit. "But let's talk a bit about how you came to write it. Heavy rock and love songs have a troubled history, and you managed to make a hit out of it."

"Just lucky I guess," He shrugged. "Got good people around me too."

"Don't be so modest," Jason dismissed. Laxus wasn't being modest; luck was the dominant factor in successful music and without the band, Laxus would be fucked. "So, take us back. Where did the idea start."

"Well, hard to pinpoint I guess," Laxus murmured. "But, I suppose it was at the end of our last tour."

——

Performing live was indescribable. It was an assault on all his senses, in the very best way.

Everything was exhilarating. The feeling of vibrations on the stage, the cheers, roars and singing from the crowd, the sweat running down his back, the roar of his voice cutting through his throat as he sang. It all flowed through him, removing any sense of doubt or self consciousness he might have. On stage, before a stadium of fans, he was Laxus Fucking Dreyar. King, God and Dragon. Nothing was better.

They were on their last song of the set, a roaring anthem that the crowd could sing along to. It was thrilling to hear a song he'd worked on sung by thousands. Freed's words were being screamed at them, with the passion and love of their fan base. It was indescribable.

"We are The Thunder God's Tribe," Laxus yelled into the microphone as the instrumental began. The crowd roared in response.

Freed, Ever and Bix held the crowd's attention, and Laxus looked over the gathered mass of thousands. They were all there for them, because they loved them and wanted to experience them in person. A loud roar of appreciation cut through the stadium as Bickslow finished a drum solo that always brought the house down. How he managed to do that night after night while never screwing it up was beyond Laxus, but it was incredible.

Laxus sang the final verse, putting his whole heart into the performance. It was the last show of the tour, the last time they'd sing in front of a crowd like this for two years. He loved songwriting, but this was the best part of his work. The crowd, the music, the experience.

God he would miss this. This high. This buzz.

The lights died around them as the song ended, plunging them into darkness as the crowd roared their appreciation. The four of them could still see their fans as they cheered and yelled, and they took a few moments to appreciate it. He would miss this.

As they were taken from the stage, the adrenaline didn't waver. Laxus could run a marathon, deadlift any weight, swim any ocean in those moments. It was pure euphoria.

Evergreen trailed off to her dressing room first, scraping her nails down her bodyguard's chest before dragging him in with her. They were no longer pretending they were simply platonic anymore; Bickslow walking in on them must have removed any hope they could keep their relationship a secret. Good for them; Ever worked hard and deserved a big man to fill her bed.

Bix's groupies appeared out of nowhere, two men and a woman. They clung to the drummers bare chest instantly, and he cackled as he was dragged away for a night of depravity and booze. Laxus grinned; the party boy really had hit his stride this year.

Glancing at Freed, he saw the man looking equally amused.

A shared moment of eye contact sent a pulse of heat through Laxus. They stared at one another for a moment, and Laxus found his eyes crawling over Freed's shirtless torso without shame before he could stop it. Hard muscle and flexing abs were fully shown, and the heat in Laxus' face settled down lower. The rush of the performance was still running through him and he knew he wasn't in his right mind, but dammit Freed looked fucking hot in that moment. Tousled, sweating, shirtless; who could fucking resist that?

Laxus had always known Freed was hot. They spent hours upon hours together, it couldn't be missed. But he'd never thought too hard about it. You didn't fuck your badnmates. You didn't fuck your male bandmate.

And if he weren't coursing with adrenaline and dunk off of the cheers, he might have stopped.

With a stride, he surged forward and wrapped a hand around the back of Freed's neck. He pulled the man against him, pressing their lips together in a passionate, needy, energetic kiss. Freed dragged him back, pushing himself against the wall and taking Laxus with him. Hands were roaming over his chest, and Laxus groaned as they slid lower.

"Wait," Laxus whispered, pulling apart. A string of spit hung between them, and Laxus felt a twisted form of delight at it.

"What?" Freed asked, and his husky voice ran down Laxus' spine.

"We better take it inside," Laxus murmured, and Freed grinned.

They snuck into the nearest changing room, locking the door behind them. It was only in the next morning, when Laxus' mind was focused on something other than mindless, unadulterated pleasure, that he began writing a song. That he felt the need to write in a way that he'd never felt before.

Because kissing Freed was music. A high unmatched by anything else, and one that Laxus would find himself addicted to.

——

"And how did it come about?" Jason probed. "You've never written before. Did you find your muse?"

He had. But Jason didn't get to know it. Not that their manager would let it happen.

"Well, you know how bands work. You tour, make an album, then tour with the album," Laxus shrugged, reaching for his glass of water. "Your mind goes into production mode, I guess. You see things a little different, put a little creative spin on the things happening around you. Something struck me and I started writing," He laughed, awkward. "Not that interesting, really."

Not the fake story he'd been told to say, anyway.

The audience didn't seem to care about how crap the anecdote actually was, and applauded his words for some reason. Jason forced out a laugh, as if his statement had been a self-deprecating joke rather than a simple fact. What he'd been told to say wasn't interesting.

"Well, maybe you weren't struck by some divine intervention, but whatever happened it certainly worked out well," Jason continued, and the small screen beside him showed the album cover. Laxus hated the cover, it was just him. Not the four of them. It should be the four of them, or none of them at all. "It shot to the top of the charts and seems like it'll be there for a long time. That must feel good."

"It's incredible," Laxus agreed, and it was.

"So talk us through the writing process," Jason promoted, grinning. "I can't imagine you hunched over a desk night after night?"

"Well, the first draft only took a couple hours, really," Laxus confessed, blushing a little. The lights would cover it, but it was still embarrassing. "But me and Freed spent a couple nights together, and it became what you've been hearing."

——

"You always this tried?" Laxus chuckled, placing a takeout cup of coffee beside Freed.

The bassist blinked slowly up at Laxus, removing his face from its resting place against his arm. He glanced towards the coffee he'd been given with a thankful smile. Laxus smiled a little as Freed sat up straight, running a hand through his loose hair and letting it flow over his shoulders. He had bags under his eyes and a yawn split open his lips.

Laxus found himself slightly transfixed by the sight of Freed picking up the coffee, bringing it to his lips and drinking it in large gulps. His throat bobbed, pale skin stretching and chords tightening.

"Better to be tired that not focused," Freed smirked a little as he placed his coffee down.

"I think me looking at you is exactly the kinds focus we need," He grinned, and Freed chuckled.

The two of them were writing alone. After a fair amount of hesitation, Laxus had shown Freed the draft lyrics he'd written, and Freed had instantly presented ideas on how to fine tune it. He hadn't been patronising - nor had he teased Laxus about the fact he'd written a damn love song about him - and instead decided to encourage and help him make it a hit. They'd spent three subsequent nights in their studio, completely alone, and Laxus was loving it.

He'd never written a song before. Words weren't his forte, at least not the writing of them, and he much preferred to show passion through performance. But hours of Freed and him in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other, was thrilling.

Laxus suspected any time alone with Freed would be thrilling now.

Walking behind Freed to get to his own seat, Laxus leant down and pressed a soft kiss atop his head. Freed made a small sound and leant back against his chair to get closer to Laxus. He chuckled, ruffling Freed's hair slightly as he sat beside him.

"You made any progress?" Laxus asked, stretching slightly. He didn't miss Freed's eyes roaming over his chest. "What were you saying about being distracted."

"Until you wear looser fitting clothes, you don't get to talk about me being distracted," Freed smirked.

"Maybe I'd agree to that if I didn't know how uncomfortable those jeans you're wearing are," Laxus smirked. "Flatters the ass but crushes the balls, right? Regretting it yet?"

Freed didn't answer, but blushed a little and Laxus cackled.

They quickly fell into step, working on the song again. They were focusing on the second verse, which Laxus had dubbed the catalyst chapter. It had initially been a torrent of ways to describe how explosive his kiss with Freed had been - though names were vague enough for nobody to know that. With Freed's help, it had turned into a well written lyrical explanation to the first flushes of a romance. The burning passion, the fire between the two people, the erotic rush that could ignite from a simple glance. Watching Freed write, Laxus had to hope he was writing about his own feelings for Laxus.

He also had to stop himself from jumping the man, because Freed knew how to write a hot song. A really hot song…

Taking his espresso and gulping it down, Laxus looked away from his lover. Perhaps if Freed were anyone else - if he weren't a guy, or if he weren't in the band - Laxus might have given in and kissed him. He wanted to, but couldn't,

Once they'd been signed, te band had been given a long speech about how you couldn't screw your bandmate by their manager, how it could ruin things and screw up the dynamic. When Laxus had discovered he was bi, and wanted to come out as such, multiple crisis meetings were held. Not only had Laxus not been allowed to speak about his sexuality, with the risk of his contract being terminated immediate held over him, but he'd also been forced to stage pictures with a woman so he looked to be dating.

There had been backlash even then. His fans were vicious to the poor model, many seemed angry at him for supposedly betraying them by dating someone, it was fucking insane, and Laxus hadn't known hot to take it, but it had scared him off relationships for years.

So, he couldn't date. Definitely couldn't date bandmates. Certainly couldn't date men.

And knowing that, he'd still come back to Freed. Slept with him after their tour, then in the hotel later that night, they'd even fumbled about in the tour bus to the airport when everyone else was sleeping. They'd been in dates - or as close to dates two famous men could get - and a week prior had sat down and talked. They didn't care about the rules, because their budding romance was too damn good.

Never let it be said Laxus kept things comfortable for himself.

"Stop that," Freed scolded.

"Stop what?" Laxus asked, looking from the song and towards Freed.

"Torturing yourself," Freed explained, taking Laxus' hand and stroking it. "It'll do you know good. Certainly not when we're trying trying to write a ballad about the two of us."

"Sorry," Laxus hunched.

"Don't be, I think about it too," Freed admitted, leaning towards Laxus and against him. "But drowning in what ifs and self doubt is hardly going to make things better. We might as well enjoy what we have while it's still between the two of us, and deal with the fallout should it present itself.”

"You're right," Laxus nodded, blinking himself back into focus. "Not sure I can write tonight, though. Not in the mood."

"You don't want to write sonnets about how much you want me? Should I be offended?" Freed smirked, and Laxus laughed. "Or perhaps should I see it as a challenge to refocus your attention."

A hand ran down Laxus' inner thigh, and his breath hitched slightly. "Really?"

"Well, the song needs to be finished eventually," Freed hummed a little. "The sooner the better, I'd say. So getting your mind back on me seems the only thing that makes sense,"

"Really," Laxus tried to make his voice sound seductive, but Freed's wandering hand made him crack slightly. "H-how d'you think you'd do that."

"Well, let's say that in five minutes you find yourself in the instrument store down the hall," Freed mused aloud. "And let's say you find me already there, and I happen to be kneeling there waiting for you. Well, we can hardly be blamed if we find ourselves distracted."

Laxus swallowed. "Here? You sure?”

"There's no one around," Freed shrugged far too nonchalantly, and then grinned a devilishly handsome grin. "And I must admit, making you come undone in here has been a fantasy of mine," His hand squeezed Laxus thigh, before he stood up, and all flirtation was gone. "I should find a guitar, we can hardly write without practice. Perhaps I'll see you in there."

And then he was gone, walking away with his ass hugged perfectly in his jeans. All doubts about his future with Freed disappeared, replaced by the uncomfortable tightness in his boxers.

He found himself grinning, and a few minutes later he found himself in the instrument room, panting and moaning.

——

"It was pretty normal," Laxus continued, not looking to Jason. "We wrote, we practiced, we rewrote."

"Keeping your secrets close to your chest, I see," Jason laughed. "Now, speaking of secrets, the rumours have been flying on Twitter about who this is written about."

"I hadn't heard about that," Laxus tried to dismiss the statement.

"I'm sure you haven't," Jason nodded almost patronisingly, clearly not believing him. It was fair, Laxus supposed. #WhoIsThunderstruck did trend for a week. "But you have to admit, a virgin songwriter making something so powerful on their first try, and in a song so distant from anything else you've ever made, does seem to suggest maybe you've found someone to inspire you."

"I'm around a lot of talented people," Laxus shrugged. "They know how to make a hit."

He was squirming now, and not because of Jason. Their manager was seating in the front row of the live audience, and a quick glance his way showed Laxus a glare. This was a topic he had to avoid, because his fans needed to think the song was about them. It was patronising, Laxus thought, but they'd found success with their manager for a reason.

"So," Jason continued. "Have you found yourself a special lady?"

And then something ridiculous happened. Laxus found himself furious.

Such a simple statement, so innocuous and normal for Laxus' life, had opened the floodgates for Laxus. Because why had he assumed it would be a woman? Why had he assumed he could ask a question like that? Why was Laxus in a position where he couldn't answer something so simple when he really fucking wanted to?

Every ridiculous injustice seemed to swarm over him at once. How was it fair he had to parade himself on shows like this, on his own despite how his band deserved as much love and respect as he did? How was it fair that he'd known he wanted to be with a man for five years, and he'd never allowed himself to indulge before Freed? How was it fair that he'd been forced to endure meeting after meeting about how 'stupid' he was being for hooking up with Freed? How was it fair that he couldn't go out for a fucking pizza with his boyfriend without starting a ridiculous internet scandal? It was all so bullshit.

"Nah," Laxus answered, leaning back in his chair. The anger gave way to confidence; every interview he'd been on edge, but not any more. "Not a girl."

"So nobody's tamed the dragon slayer then?"

"Not a girl," Laxus repeated. "A guy. I'm bi, and for the last couple months I've been dating Freed," There was silence, and Laxus grinned and turned to Jason. "Bet you wished you'd gotten him on stage with me now, huh?"

"You're…" Jason seemed at a loss for words.

"Screwing the bassist, yeah," Laxus laughed, exhilaration flooding through him. "Inevitable really. I've known I liked guys for five years, and there's a load of fan pages who talk about how hot Freed is, so it was bound to happen," He grinned, running a hand through his hair.

This felt so good. Fuck, he didn't know how much he needed to do this.

"So," Jason tried to recover. "Well, erm, we have r to go to break now. Maybe we'll talk about that when we get back, I really don't know."

The moment the cameras cut, people began approaching Laxus. His manager, his PR team, and most importantly, his band. Ever and Bix attempted to run interference on their management team, but the angry man and his cronies pushed through them with fury on their faces. Still, Freed met him first, and wordlessly grabbed Laxus by the collar and brought their lips together. It was more passionate and desperate than any of their kisses had been.

"I'm so proud of you," Freed whispered. "And we are definitely talking about how you know those fan sites exist."

"Who d'you think made 'em," Laxus grinned, and Freed laughed.

Their small, shared moment ended when a throaty cough cut through them. Their manager was looming over them, and Laxus met them with a cruel grin, knowing it was too late: that was the problem with live TV.

"Problem?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"What the hell were you thinking?" The manager snarled. "You just fucked all of us, do you understand that? How fucking selfish are you. You've ruined this album, you know that? You think your bandmates will forgive you?"

"Nothing to forgive," Bix said immediately.

"You're a dick for not letting him do it before," Evergreen agreed.

Their manager seemed to flounder for a moment, before narrowing his glare at Laxus again. "Do you think your fans will want to see that?" He growled again, voice getting louder now. "You think they'll still want you now they know that. Now they have to think about you being with… with him!" He motioned to Freed disparagingly. "They'll leave you. You've fucked yourselves, you know that."

Silence filled the soundstage, and their manager seethed. Laxus grinned, then looked past him towards the audience, half of whom had their phones pointed towards them.

"Since you're always talking about PR," Laxus smirked. "How d'you think you'll look once this hits Twitter?"

Their manager halted, then slowly turned. He turned sheet white, and it was brilliant.

"Oh, and in case you're worrying about your little threat to drop us if I came out, don't," Laxus smirked, though looked up to his band, who all nodded. "Yer fired, so fuck off."

#Fraxus #Freed Justine #laxus dreyar #freed x laxus #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Request #One Shot #fuckyeahfraxus #Word Count 3.8k

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