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softtdaisy · 7 months

Note

hey could you please do a one shot for pierre where he won’t admit that he is sick and still does race but is ill during the race and he says on radio that all he wants is you and then you comfort him

DESCRIPTION I Pierre might pretend is not sick, but sometimes you know your boyfriend more than he knows himself

PAIRING I Pierre Gasly × fem!reader

WORDS COUNT I 1,5k

A/N I It felt good to write about Pierre again?? I love that stupid boy with my whole heart. I changed the end a little i think so i hope you’ll love it babe 🤍

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

You knew a lot of things in life. The integrality of your favorite author’s bibliography, almost every line from your favorite sitcom and the entire calendar of the F1 season to follow your boyfriend.

But there was one thing you definitely knew by heart: your boyfriend. You could figure out every one of his little reactions and understand what he was thinking or going through. Whatever Pierre said, he was an open book for you.

Honestly, you didn’t even try to memorize everything, you just did. Or maybe you just had a very demonstrative boyfriend that was terrible at hiding his feelings.

“For the hundredth time, yes, I’m fine.” Pierre answered…coughing. Which made you frown and wondered when he was going to stop lying.

You tried to tell him that no, it might not be a good idea to bathe in the hotel’s pool last week after his podium. Sure he was happy and you wanted to celebrate just as much. But the temperature was low outside and in the pool. It was just a good way to get sick when he had a race this weekend too.

Needless to say Pierre was as stubborn as a mule. So he did go to the pool with his friends while you watched. You even took pictures. To remember that night. And to remind him how stupid it was when he would be sick.

“So we are totally going to ignore the fact you were super warm last night?” you asked, putting a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He was still warm but this idiot didn’t want to take anything.

“That’s because I was sleeping next to you, chérie.”

You laughed, not even bothering to remind him he didn’t need to flirt with you. After three years, it’s not like he needed to win you again. You were all his. Even when he was annoying like that. You just hit the same forehead you were gently checking a few seconds ago. To which Pierre reacted by grabbing your wrist to make you climb him. When he approached his face, and more precisely his lips from yours, you pushed him away.

“There is no way I’m kissing your sick mouth.”

“I’m not sick!”

“You totally are!”

Pierre rolled his eyes right when his phone rang. It was time to go to the circuit. There was no time for jokes anymore. The reality was there: your boyfriend was going to race because he refused to admit he felt bad. You sighed, letting him get up and take his stuff. There was nothing you could do. And even if you tried, it was too late.

“Let’s pretend that I’m sick. Which I’m not!” Pierre told you when you woke up this morning. “I’m institing on the not.”

“I got it, Gasly. Go On”.

“So let’s pretend I’m sick. The race is today, the team clearly doesn’t have the time to call a reserve driver to take my place. And I can’t let them have only one car today. It would be a mess. So even if I’m sick, which I’m not again, I can’t miss it.”

Sometimes you wondered if you were engaged to Pierre or to F1. Maybe a little bit of both.

Maybe it should have been a sign for Pierre that when the taxi drove you to the circuit, he turned white. You hold his hand, trying to comfort him even if, of course, he was absolutely not sick. He was just a driver with motion sickness. How logical.

As always, the craziness of the event took over everything once you put a foot on the circuit. Pierre got monopolized by the team to get ready, do some interviews and all that stuff. Meaning, you absolutely lost sight of your boyfriend. So you tried to think about anything else to stop worrying about his condition. You saw the other girlfriends and spent some time with them. And it worked for a good moment.

Even when you watched the parade together, you absolutely forgot about Pierre being sick in your hotel room earlier.

No, not sick. He wasn’t, that’s what he said.

So you sat in the Alpine motorhome, putting on your headphones to ear Pierre through the race. And it wasn’t after the first lap that you remember all the mess that had happened before.

When you saw him miss a corner. He managed to go back on the road naturally, so you assumed it was just a mistake.

And when it happened again, on the same lap, you understood it was more than that.

“Everything alright?” his engineer asked on the radio.

But Pierre didn’t answer.

You thought that maybe you had missed his answer in the mess of the race. Or maybe he didn’t take the time to answer because he was focused on the road.

But when it became obvious that something was wrong, you started to worry.

“Pierre, is everything alright?” he got asked once again.

“Sometimes I hate how everyone can hear our radio, you know. Other teams, the public… I wish I could have some private conversation with my team.” he told you one day.

“Why, you want to flirt with them?” you replied, laughing, which led to a night full of flirting and love making.

But now you understand why he wanted to have a private conversation.

“No.” Pierre simply replied and your heart just broke.

“Do you want to stop?” His engineer must have noticed how bad he felt because there was no world in which a team would ask its driver to stop driving.

“Is [y/n] there?”

Everyone looked at you. And oh boy you hated how suddenly the world was on your shoulder. You gave his engineer just one look. A look that held a question. To which he answered with a simple nod.

“Baby”. You couldn’t find any other words. What were you even supposed to say? Reassure him? Seeing him drive like that you were ready to stand in front of the car to stop him. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“You know what’s wrong.” and this absolutely didn’t sound bad at all.

You knew Pierre by heart. Every little reaction. Every tone in his voice. Every look.

So you knew what he was waiting for.

For your approval.

“Stop, please.” you asked him.

And then nothing. You just waited. Staring at the screen. Hoping he would listen to you. Hoping he won’t make a mistake. Praying for his safety.

“He’s stopping.” you heard his engineer say. For himself, for the team. And maybe to reassure you too.

You watched as he entered the pitlane. You followed the car carefully, waiting until he was parked to be sure he was safe for good. You’ve never been more scared for Pierre than at this precise moment.

Not even when he crashed in previous races. Accidents happened and he always managed to reassure you immediately. This time was different. You had a sick boyfriend stuck in a car and nothing could assure you that he would be fine. What if he gets unconscious before he can get out? What if it’s worse than you imagine?

You closed your eyes, just a few seconds, like you needed to get ready for what you were going to see. And thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as you imagine.

Pierre struggled to get out, like his legs couldn’t support the rest of his body. Some mechanics held him and helped walk inside. That’s when you took over. You immediately ran to him and took him in your arms. It probably didn’t even help him because you hugged him so hard you probably could have made him fall in reverse. But it didn’t matter. He was here.

And you could feel Pierre relief when he started to hug you back. He still had his helmet on so when he put his head on top of yours, it wasn’t comfortable for either of you. But when he grabbed your shirt and how fast his heart was beating was enough. He needed you. You were here.

“Too early to say I tried to warn you?” After all that mess, Pierre asked the team to avoid the media. And even if they technically disagree, they knew they didn’t have the choice. Pierre looked awfully sick. So they let the both of you leave the race before the end and go back to the hotel room so he could rest before you fly back home the following day.

So you were laying in bed, after you helped Pierre take a shower. If he wasn’t sick, you would melt for his soft look: his hair was messy and he was wearing one of his too big sweatshirts, looking like a big baby in your arms. You were massaging his forehead. This was why you laughed when he moved his head to look at you.

“Too early.” he groaned before cuddling against you. You pinched your lips to not laugh again and not insist on all the things he told you to keep racing. That man was stubborn as hell.

But damn, how annoying your life would be without him.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #Pierre Gasly fluff #Pierre Gasly x fem!reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #my writing

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httpsserene · 6 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟳: 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a cute little shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. witchcraft. familiars. cunnilngus. aphrodisiacs. inherent dubcon. vaginal sex. unsafe sex. sudden orgasm? desperation. coming inside. vague structure and explanation of magic. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: pierre gasly x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: need to know • doja cat

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: inspired by amortentia. what can i say at every fanfic writer's core, they’ve read an unhealthy amount of hp ff’s, i don’t make up the rules. we know pierre is a fiend, but uh, i do not even feel like i truly tapped into his true unhinged power with this. n joy, loves !!!

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

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the shop has been open for fifty-five minutes and it’s already been overwhelmed by desperate humans. valentine’s day is tomorrow; and every naive soul is scrambling to get a love charm or potion. the problem with that is: there’s no magic spell or potion able to mirror true love. however, nobody coming into the shop appreciates that answer.

after the third time a customer hysterically screamed at you for saying there’s no such thing as a ‘love spell,’ you made a slight tweak to the doorbell. now, every time the door opens a bass-boosted audio of you screaming, “LOVE POTIONS, CHARMS, OR SPELLS DO NOT EXIST” echoed through the shop. unfortunately, that message did not seem to help. you had to change the way you welcomed customers when they stepped up to the counter.

“good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm, which makes the subject pay more attention to you for twelve hours. this charm doesn’t affect their emotions, you still have to make them attracted to you with your, hopefully, natural charm. are you interested in one, they’re buy-one-get-one free for valentine’s day?”

your customer service grimace smile is stained across your lips as you parrot the same words to each customer. you’ve become an npc. the customers try to interrupt your spiel, but you act as if it’s a piece of unskippable dialogue. if they’re going to come here and harass you over their inability to rizz somebody up—they’re sure as hell going to listen when you speak. at this point, you’ve adopted the ‘it is what it is’ mentality. you’re selling a record number of hyper-fixation charms, you think you might run out of your entire supply hours before the store closes.

at first, you felt a little guilty about selling these charms to the desperate souls. all they want is true love and you can only offer a temporary fix. but after you’ve been screamed at countless times for telling these non-magiques that you can’t supply them with what they’re asking for, the guilt quickly transforms to ‘idgaf.’ with a twitching eye, you kindly told the customers inside the store to wait just a few seconds while you adjusted the door’s charm.

you grab the outer doorknob with a hand covered in lapis powder, and imbue it with your aura to edit the current protection spell. thankfully, you remembered to meditate this morning, so casting comes easily. you breathe deeply, before releasing the handle and you make your way back towards the customers. and suddenly, the amount of people entering the shop decreases dramatically.

you have such a manic grin on your face that the customers inside the building stare at you in mild terror. one of the humans swallows their fear, and asks the question they’re all afraid to hear the answer to, “w-what did you do to the uh- to the d-door?”

the lights brighten around you as your grin grows larger, and you nonchalantly answer, “the door reads your intentions before you step inside. if a customer plans to come in and harass me over what is magically impossible, they get cursed.”

the humans gasp in fear, and you’re eyes widen in realization, “oh! no-no, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad! it’s just a floating rose that screams out ‘i have no rizz’ to every person they talk to for the next forty-eight hours. they’ve ruined their own valentine’s day with their terrible manners,” you state proudly.

the mass of customers inside thins out pretty quickly after that.

thankfully, the door charm seems to do the trick with keeping out unruly folks. you’re able to start working on requests from your usual customers—the barkeep needs her rune for a bottomless keg replenished, the butcher needs his new set of utensils charmed with sharpness, the baker’s assistant needs your help working on the heating charm for the warming-tables, and so on and so forth. you get a new vampire customer today, requesting a sunshade potion—they indulge in telling you that they’re planning to spend valentine’s day outside with their human partner as a surprise. you coo at the vampire adorably as you check them out, and you see their cheeks faintly tint with pink—they must have fed recently. this is why being open for valentine’s day is worth it to you; customers like this remind you that true love still exists.

you wish him luck with his surprise, and hand over the potion, which was made by your true love, pierre. who was supposed to be helping you in the shop about thirty minutes ago. he claimed to have to run out and get a few extra supplies to be able to fulfill all of his orders, but that he’d be back before the shop opened. when he shows his face, the true love between you two may not exist anymore. because you’re going to kill him for hanging you out to dry. you sigh, and make your way into the back storage closet to get a fresh box of dried peonies for the new batch of hyperfixation charms, when you hear the doorbell scream the warning message.

you call-out, “give me one moment and i’ll be right up to help you out! feel free to look around in the meantime!” you summon the box of peonies forward, and spell it to float after you as you make your way out.

turning the corner, you automatically begin your npc introduction, “good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm—oh, it’s just you—ohmygod—how did you pick up my door curse??”

pierre stares at you in a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, as the rose screams “I HAVE NO RIZZ,” at you. you can only laugh, and summon your phone to your hand to take a video. pierre laughs in reflex, still not sure what’s going on, and suddenly he’s being climbed over like a cat tree by your familiar.

“aha!” you exclaim. “i’ve been looking for you all day, ma’am. what pocket of the universe were you hiding in? you always disappear when the non-magiques come around instead of defending me, cat. what kind of familiar are you?”

pierre struggles to wrangle cat off of his head from where she’s fucking up the rose hanging over him. he side-eyes you heavily when he still sees you recording the whole interaction, and you put the phone down before you step over to get cat off of his head. “madame catalytic converter!” you yell with the force of your ancestors.

yes, you named your familiar catalytic converter, cat for short. it makes perfect sense, she improves your efficiency and decreases the chance for any harmful side-effects when you do magic; just like the car part. pierre says that’s why she never listens to you, for giving her a terrible name. when you asked him what he would’ve named her, he said, “probably, escargot, or something.” you said that’s probably why she hates him more.

you remove the curse from pierre with a quick touch of your hand to his forehead, and the rose poofs away. madame catalytic converter, hops away quickly, uninterested in either of you again, and struts away to sit on top of the box of peonies you brought up. you narrow your eyes at your familiar, “oh—so you’re not even going to explain yourself? where were you?”

cat stares at you dead in the eyes, before she looks away and starts licking her calico fur clean, dismissing you. you scoff, rolling your eyes, and turn to pierre, “and where were you, monsieur?” you ask, poking a finger to his chest.

pierre presses a kisses to your cheek in greeting, and raises the one bag he has in his hand as part of his answer, “i told you i was running errands, remember?”

you purse your lips at him, and he smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to try and pull you in for a kiss. you smack your teeth disapprovingly, gripping his jaw with your hand, and holding him back, “yeah, you told me you were getting extra supplies. plural. and, that you’d be back in time to open the shop.”

pierre avoids your eyes, chuckling anxiously.

“i’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but, you’ve only come back with one item, and it’s well past the time the shop opened,” you pause, letting pierre simmer, “explain yourself.”

“okaysoilied,” pierre rushes out, and you hum in shock sarcastically, gesturing for him to continue, “but—but! mon amour, i’ve come back with something that could potentially level up my potion making skills!”

you stare at him unamused, “oh ok—well, show me, what is this wonderful thing?”

pierre shifts on his feet, and you are suddenly afraid to know what he’s bought. if his confidence is faltering, you know whatever’s in that bag cannot be good.

“so, you remember how people were saying the potion shop a few towns over has actual love potions,” pierre starts eagerly, you nod in resignation, already knowing where this is going, “i bought one! well, two actually. i tried to bug the potion maker into telling me what he put in it, but he was so shifty about it. which is completely understandable, if i made a new potion as great as this, i wouldn’t tell anybody my secrets either.”

“okay, pierre,” you sigh, rubbing a hand across your face, disappointed, “why did you buy two of them?”

“oh,” pierre begins, his usual ludicrous smirk returning to his expression, “one for me to study, and one for me to take! the best way to see if it works is to test it out myself.”

you tug his hand off your waist, and step away from him, pointing at him in vindication, “that’s why my curse worked on you! you’re harassing me with this goddamn love-potion shit—you snake, we both know it’s not real!”

pierre groans, following after you as you storm back to the front counter, the peony box floating over as well, cat yowling at the sudden movement.

“oh, come on, mon amour,” pierre pleads, brandishing the love potion at you, “where is your hunger for magical breakthroughs? aren’t you curious to learn how it works?”

“pierre, babe, it doesn’t work! that’s why i don’t care! and, why would it work on you? we’re already a true love’s match. we’re soul-tied!”

“so, there’s no harm in me taking it,” pierre claims, like he’s found a loophole.

“pierre, you shouldn’t,” you warn him. the potions master deflates at your words, and you sigh at the sight of his point. you take a few steps to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss, and your aura swells with pierre’s love passing to you.

“if you do end up taking it, which you probably will anyways, at least take the time to properly study it. you don’t know if they’re any weird side effects,” pierre perks up, his blue-green eyes losing their saddened look immediately. he happily presses a few more kisses to your lips, and pulls away before pressing a kiss to your hand.

“i will! i’m going to go to the back now and start studying it—“

“uhm, no you are not! you still have to help me run this store, sir! i have plenty of things for you to do. starting with cleaning our cauldrons!”

pierre groans in disgust and whines like a child, “mon amour! please, you know i hate doing that. you can do it with a snap of your fingers, why do i have to do it with manual labor?”

you arch a sharp brow at him, and gently remind him of his behavior, “you shouldn’t have lied to me then, hm?” pierre sulks, and moves towards the back to get started on cleaning the cauldrons.

“don’t look so sad—i could’ve had you collecting the eyes of spiders!”

pierre cringes when he accidentally slams the drawer of his desk closed, pausing cautiously to listen for any movement in the house. it’s late, and you’ve gone to bed hours ago; he’s stayed up trying to identify what exactly this so-called love potion is made out of, and what order of processes it was created with. the frenchman is certain that there are at least seven ingredients in the brew: mature peonies, smashed pearls, crushed dates, powdered rose thorns, rose water, and a potion base of moonstone and lapis. it’s odd, because to pierre the potion smells like warmed vanilla, shea butter, a dash of espresso, and a brush of peppermint—but with every extraction he makes from the potion, there’s no sign of those ingredients. in addition to that mystery, he can tell that this potion took a few weeks to prepare and that it needed constant stirring. he can figure out when ingredients were added to the potion based on how much affect the cooking and heat had on them; the dates and pearls were first, followed by the rose thorns, and it seems like the peonies were added last—he just can’t figure out how they were integrated in the brew. were they added in batches, all at once, did they need changes in stirring motion, etc..

putting aside all the unknowns, there is one thing that pierre is sure of: none of the ingredient combinations in this potion would cause any harmful side effects. the powdered rose thorns and crushed pearls are a rare sight in potions but, they create the base of hyperfixation charms and he hasn’t heard of any reports of strange or harmful reactions from these two ingredients. so, the only responsible option for the potions master is to drink the concoction and see if it lives up to be the ‘true love’ potion everyone is claiming it to be.

pierre knocks the draft back quickly and hums pleasantly at the taste, a curious eyebrow raised at how it doesn’t mirror the scent at all. the flavor is sweet and tangy, with a lingering dash of saltiness—it’s delicious. he finds himself wishing he didn’t waste the first potion with experiments so he could taste it again.

the potions master rocks back and forth on his feet impatiently, he expected the brew to take immediate effect, alas, he feels nothing. pierre shrugs, the potion may take longer to kick in if it’s replicating one of the strongest emotions. he leaves his study and makes his way to the bedroom, and right before he enters the bedroom, he stumbles over cat. your familiar looks at him reproachfully, before she pauses and comes over to sniff at pierre. in the dark, he can see the calico’s eyes shrink into pupils and suddenly she hisses up at him, before she apparates into thin air. pierre scratches at his scalp in a confused manner; cat hissing at him and then disappearing, is not out of the ordinary (it reminds him of the you first brought him home and he tried to charm her with a laser pointer—the familiar stared at pierre like he disparaged her family name), he doesn’t know if that was a reaction just because of him, or if it was a reaction to the potion.

he continues with his usual nightly routine before he joins you in bed, dressed in a pair of old sweatpants alone. you pout in your sleep, pierre can feel your aura calling to him, unhappy that he’s not curled up against you. he tucks you into his chest when he settled comfortably on his back. he feels your magic calm, the air relaxing when the force of your influence fades.

the potions master tries to stay up for as long as he can to see if he notices an effect from the brew, but deflates when he doesn’t feel any changes. he knows the chances of this potion working was slim to none, however, he kind of hoped it at least had some effect on him. pierre’s eyes flutter shut as he drifts to sleep, and his last conscious thought is that you were probably right, the potion may not have an effect on true love’s matches.

you squirm awake. it’s boiling hot under the sheets and it shouldn’t be, you placed a cooling charm on the bed. as the fog of sleep unfortunately fades from your mind, you notice that the heat is radiating from pierre. turning around in worry and slight annoyance, you check in on your boyfriend, and the annoyance disappears when you examine his state.

he’s still asleep, but he’s drenched in sweat. his brow is furrowed in what must be pain, and his body squirms across the bed in discomfort. you press a hand to his forehead and hiss at the burning heat from his skin. you groan, already knowing what happened to your dumb potions master—he should be stripped of his title after this. he was working on the damn potion before you went to bed, and he fucking drank it, ignoring your warning, and now, he’s suffering the consequences. you take the same hand that was on his head, and bring it to his shoulder to gently shake him awake. pierre, on the other hand, awakens dramatically, jackknifing upright like you’ve poured water all over him.

the man pants desperately, chest heaving with his stuttering breaths, tongue swiping at his upper lip to clear the sweat gathering there, his teal irises swallowed by enlarged pupils, and his hair is matted and curling against his forehead from the mixture of sweat and heat. his eyes are glazed over, you can tell he’s not quite aware of what’s going on—that’s probably thanks to the incredible fever he’s running—but there’s a hidden glint to them that you can’t puzzle out.

“oh, pierre,” you lean forward, hands coming to grasp at the sides of his face, steadying him, “you fucked around and found out, didn’t you? there’s no chance you’re capable of telling me the antidote to this, it seems. maybe a spell can alleviate the effects briefly enough…”. as you ramble on, mostly to yourself, you fail to see the look in pierre’s eyes change. the hidden intentions you weren’t able to make out are as clear as day now. the haze over his stare is still present, but the confusion has disappeared. only hunger remains.

you startle when pierre’s trembling hands grasp at your waist. you quirk a brow at him in question, but don’t receive an answer, a verbal one at least. you’re suddenly knocked flat on your back and pierre bodily shoves himself between your legs, hovering over you. and the intense look in his eyes is made aware to you; you’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt this ravenous. you press your eyelids closed and whimper under your breath at your revelation: the ‘true love’ potion is a fucking aphrosodiac.

pierre is so hot. he feels his body shivering dramatically as he holds himself on his hands above you. his muscles weaken from the strain of the fever, and he collapses on top of you. his head lands in the valley of your neck, and he moans at the cooling feeling of your brown skin against his face—he needs more of it, he needs you naked. reinvigorated, pierre attempts to wrangle your clothes off, but he’s unable to do much with his shaky limbs. he begins to anger when your sleep shirt fails to disappear, and tries to rip it down the center. you force his hands away, and tug the shirt up and away before tossing it aside, leaving you in just panties. his anger dissipates, and he presses his body against yours again, and a choked groan escapes him at the relief your naked torso gives him, he goes boneless.

the relief lasts for less than a minute, before he starts squirming desperately again—he needs to be closer to you. he suckles marks into your neck, moaning lewdly when he feels your hand tangle in his hair, pulling at it firmly. he fights your grasp, unsatisfied with his unfinished claim on your neck and chest, but he submits when he notices you’re guiding him to your lips.

the meeting of your lips is messy, he can’t manage to find any of his usual finesse. he pants into your mouth in between sloppy, wet kisses, if you can even call them that. his tongue fights against yours, and his hips buck forward at the feeling, which reminds him of the fact that he still has sweatpants on and you have on panties. pierre jerks away, resisting the urge to continue kissing you when you whine out for him so prettily, chest arching upwards, nipples perky and egging him to bite, the bruises on your neck blossoming with reds and purples—he shakes his head erratically, and focuses enough to tug his sweatpants off; he’s never been so happy that he’s not wearing underwear. the skin contact must have done him well, because his hands aren’t shaking anymore as they grasp at your panties. he may not have torn apart your shirt, but the cotton undergarment doesn’t stand a chance, he rips through it like water.

the sound of your shriek at his actions is muted in his ears, and he barely registers the feeling of you shoving at his shoulder in irritation. pierre can only see your pussy. a broken whimper escapes him as he stares; his eyes tunnel to your throbbing hooded clit, the way your entrances tightens and relaxes, like you’re taunting him to fill you up, and you’re soaked for him, lips shining with your wetness—he should just get a brief taste, before he fucks you. he lays between your legs, hands coming around to grip at your thighs to firmly hold you against his mouth, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before.

the potions master vaguely hears a pleasure-filled scream burst from your chest as he broadly strokes of his tongue against your vulva to collect any wetness you’ve spilled. he muffles his moan into your pussy at the taste, and shifts downward to prod his tongue inside of you to coax more of your juices out. he feels your hips try to buck him off of you, and he growls into you, tightening his grip on your thighs to allow you no escape. you leak steadily into his mouth, even as you try to run from the constant barrage of his lips, tongue, and teeth. pierre’s brow furrows with the effort he puts into eating you out—your taste is addicting. it’s a mouthwatering combination of sweet and tangy, with lingering saltiness. he has a small lapse of deja-vu at your flavor, but it’s quickly dismissed at the drag of his cock against the bed.

pierre whimpers into you at the pleasure flaring behind his eyelids, as he begins to hump against the bed. he switches from forcing his tongue inside of you and moves his attention to your clit, suckling and twirling his tongue on the button. it sounds like he’s making out with your cunt. your thighs to clamp shut around his head, your hand scrambles to tug at his hair and hold him exactly where you want him, and you start rubbing your pussy against him. fuck, how did he not realize how hard he is. pierre sobs into your pussy overwhelmed, he wants to keep eating you out, and the friction of his cock against the bed feels so good. he knows being inside of you would be better.

the frenchman breaks free from the grasp of your legs, and scrambles back upwards, not giving you time to register the change in position before he breaches your entrance. when the head of his cock pops inside of you, he throws his head back and moans erotically at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. he starts to burn hotter. pierre struggles to hold-off from thrusting into you in one smooth motion—he’s usually cautious when he fucks into you for the first time because he’s well aware of his size and how you struggle to take it all in one sitting. he whimpers hotly, and picks his head up to look at you—and all sense of waiting for you to adjust leaves him head. a line of drool has slid down your cheek, your eyes have rolled back in pleasure, and the sounds of your squeals of pleasure from just the tip of his cock break his restraint.

the man drives his cock deep inside of you in one smooth thrust, and he shudders on top of you, humming in satisfaction at the pulsing grasp of your cunt. pierre feels how he forced the air out of your lungs, your corresponding scream still rattling in his eardrums, but he can’t help how he grinds his cock into you, one, two, three times. he groans out, and starts making proper thrusts into you—he needs to fuck you properly. one of your hands sneaks between your joined bodies and presses at his navel in a weak attempt to halt his movements. pierre knocks it out of the way, before he brings both of his hands to tighten on your waist and starts fucking you with a purpose. it’s selfish and dirty; in a way pierre usually isn’t. he uses himself as a tool to make you cum first all of the time, but you can tell tonight, this is all about him—your orgasm is just a byproduct. he gathers you up in his arms, making sure there’s no gap of air in between you, and starts pumping his hips into you deeply, not pulling out of you any more than a few centimeters.

it’s feels so pleasurable that it could be torture. he’s applying pressure against that spongy spot on your walls so consistently, that you’re legs have already started shaking. he’s fucking you up the bed with the force of his thrust, and he’s conscious enough to place a hand on the headboard to make sure he doesn’t shove you up to hit your head. pierre’s making these sweet, whiny, whimpers, that he attempts to muffle into your neck as he feels himself start pulsating inside of you, dancing along the edge. he feels your nails claw into his back, and it’s like his senses are suddenly returned to full strength from where they were clogged with fuzz. he can hear you try and moan out for him, but his thrusts are so powerful that you keep choking on your words.

he catches the ending of your warning, “pierre-oh—m’ gonna cum! oh, fuck!”

the clenching of your orgasm pushes him into his own, and it’s the most intense crash of pleasure he’s ever felt. his vision whites out and it feels painful in a way only too much pleasure can give. his whole body shakes through each wave of pleasure, and he feels lightheaded at the feeling. pierre can’t even do anything more than jerk his hips forward to pump through the aftershocks, he falls limp on top of you, pinning you under him. his skin feels raw and blown open, and there’s a ringing noise in his ears. he whimpers against your neck, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and then he’s pretty sure he faints for a few minutes.

when he comes back to the present, you’re humming underneath him, hands rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion. pierre brokenly moans against your throat, oversensitive. you shush him, and scratch at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes but won’t admit to. his breaths slowly even out against your skin, and in a croaky voice he starts talking, “the potion—it smelled like the shea butter of your lotion, the vanilla and coffee of your perfume, and the peppermint of your aura.”

you pause in your motions, and softly ask, “really?”

pierre shifts, hissing at the jostling of his cock still inside of you, and settles again, raising his head up to make lazy eye contact with you, “yeah,” he whispers quietly, before carefully pulling out of you and falling onto his stomach next to you.

you nuzzle up to his side and press kisses against his shoulder, before you offhandedly mention that his fever’s gone down. pierre’s fighting the call of sleep, and mumbles something into the pillow that you can’t make out, and he turns his head to the side so you can hear him, “i dunno how, mon amour, but it tasted like you too.”

you stare at him with wide eyes, neither of you are aware of an aphrodisiac of this caliber. pierre falls asleep, and you close your eyes in a quick prayer—this potion better have run its course, you won’t survive another round of that.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

vettel reincarnate * fem!driver

after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.

this is SOOO heavily inspired by @sebscore and also @thepersonnamedsam (i was doing some research how to start and came across theirs too) and i'm lOVING IT!!

i wanted there to be a twist that didn't make it seem like it's an outright copy, so there it is! do feel free to send in requests here or questions!!

if there are too many similarities and/or copies, do drop me a message to let me know so i can address them </3

do take note that these are written in no particular order, just based on requests and scenarios sent in or that i come up with!

about fem!driver

get to know her -> a short summary on fem!driver

meet the yln's -> meet femdriver and her siblings

pre-formula 1

2023: the rookie season

2024: the sophomore year

2025: fall from grace

2026:

2027: championship contender

2028: the time is now

a day in the life

radio

smau specials

the yearly recaps: special dts editions

misc

the schumacher problem

extras

asks

in another life | fem!driver au x logan sargeant

the vault

#sebastian vettel x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #george russell x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #charles leclerc x reader #alex albon x reader #liam lawson x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #pierre gasly x reader

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love-belle · 11 months

Text

my works !!!

↳ ❝ [ formula one ] ¡! ❞

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ f1 drivers x reader ·˚ ༘

shoutout to my ex

how you get the girl

'cause summers go so fast

the ghost you dressed up as sure knows how to haunt

lo mein kayamat tak hua tera

the greatest films of all time

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ charles leclerc ·˚ ༘

it's golden like daylight

you can hear it in the silence

you are in love

you're my best friend

this is what it feels like

yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool

modern day romeo and juliet

i'd like to hang out with you for my whole life

always, evermore, even after and still

all of the girls you loved before

ishq wala love

sometimes all i think about is you

i'd never walk cornelia street again

you're the best in my life and i lost you

you got me thinking nonsense

they don't know about us

we caught that holiday glee

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ daniel ricciardo ·˚ ༘

the love of our lives

used to love you

i loved you so hard for a time

and i know i'll pay for it

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ carlos sainz ·˚ ༘

about damn time

boyfriend

no comment

mi corazón mi alma mi amor

always you

i love u forever

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ lewis hamilton ·˚ ༘

paper rings

king of my heart

single thread of gold

we could've had it all

'cause summers go so fast

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ lando norris ·˚ ༘

my boyfriend's boyfriend

us and our cats

this is how you fall in love

you are my sunshine

my sunshine

take a look at my girlfriend

tujhe kitna chahne lage

light as a feather

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ max verstappen ·˚ ༘

you're losing me

i hope i never lose you

u dumbfuck i adore u

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ pierre gasly ·˚ ༘

loved you three summers

my entire universe

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ fernando alonso ·˚ ༘

por siempre, mi amor

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ toto wolff ·˚ ༘

power couple

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ sebastian vettel ·˚ ༘

laundry and taxes

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ mick schumacher ·˚ ༘

maahi ve

↳ ❝ [ formula two ] ¡! ❞

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ollie bearman ·˚ ༘

you are my favourite everything

... more !!!

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charlesf1leclerc · 8 months

Note

I have no ideas but i love to support writers so here we are

Charles with reader that speaks italian and french fluently, but they're not her first languages. and he didn't know that. So he's Very pleasantly surprised when he hears her talking with the ferrari people in italian. And then with his mom in french and he's all heart eyes for her😌

Summary- you learn French in order to make a great first impression on Charles family and Charles is over the moon about it

Warnings- poorly edited , badly translated French, mention of marriage

Authors note- I hope that this is ok and to your liking

It was a sunny evening in Monaco you and Charles where on your way over to his mums house for a family dinner. You were quite nervous was you had never met his mum before, you had met his brothers around the paddock and at races but you had yet to meet his mum and your really wanted to make a good impression. You ha doit your nicest dress on and tried to look as classy as possible not wanting to look tacky around the mother of the love of your life. You also had another little trick up your sleeve you had been learning a little bit of French so you could interact with the family in their native language, Charles hadn’t known you had been learning the language and you couldn’t wait to see his face when he found out , you just hoped tou wouldn’t miss pronounce anything cause that would ruin your prefect first impression.

“ here we are “ Charles spoke up

“ it’s really nice, this where you grew up” you inquired

“ yep this is where little Charles lived”

“ aww it’s so cute”

Charles came around and grabbed your hand as you walked up to the door. He could obviously feel your sweaty palms and he turned to face you before ringing the bell.

“ it’s gonna be ok Cherie, she’s gonna love you, how could she not”

“ yeah it’s just meeting your mum is a big deal I just want to make a good impression”

“ and you will “ he says pulling you into him kissing your temple before ringing the doorbell.

After a few minutes the door finally opened. “Bonjour”

“ bonjour mama” Charles spoke leaning in to kiss his mum on both of her cheeks.

“ et vous devez être o/n” ( and you must be y/n) she spoke turning to you

“Oh mum y/n dosent speak French “ Charles spoke this was your moment

“ c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer Mme Leclerc” ( it’s so nice to meet you Mrs Leclerc )

Charles turned to you stunned at the fact you had just spoken such fluent French, he didn’t know you knew how to speak any other language other then English and he wasn’t gonna lie this made him fall in love with you even more.

“ oh tu parles français “ ( oh you do speak French ) she looked humorously at Charles.

“ juste quelques petites choses alors peut-être ne comptez pas sur mon français pour toute la nuit” ( just a few things so maybe don’t rely on my French for the whole night ) you laughed

“ well anyone nice to meet you dear, come in come let’s go settle inside and get to know each-other.

you and Charles followed her inside. Charles stopped you by grabbing your arm . You turned around to face him.

“ since when could speak French” he looked at you

“ since a couple weeks ago, I learnt some specially for today although I only know a few things I thought I might need to say “ you laughed rocking back on your heels

“ marry me “ he stared at you

You burst out laughing

“ what”

“ I mean I’m just so in love with you right now , you went to all that just for my family”

“ I mena i love you and I will do whatever for your family to love me”

He pulled you in to kiss your lips

“ your perfect for me” he looked lovingly in your eyes still holding your cheek.

“ you guys ok” Pascale shouted

“ coming mama” Charles linked his hand with yours as you walked further into the house. It’s safe to say the rest of your French knowledge paid of that night

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sebscore · 1 year

Text

GOSSIP GRID

pairings: pierre gasly x driver!reader / charles leclerc x driver!reader / yuki tsunoda x driver!reader

warnings: mention of sex and the whole piastri x alpine drama.

author’s note: this idea was dropped in my inbox, so thank you to the person that submitted it! I hope you like it!

• • • • • • •

“Oh my god, Gasly! You’re never gonna believe this- oh, hey Yuki. Charles.” Y/N found them in front of the Alpha Tauri hospitality.

They greeted her back. “Hi, Y/N!” “What’s going on?” Yuki simply giving her a small wave.

“I just found out about something, but you can’t tell anyone!” The young woman unsubtle looked around them, scanning if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation.

Charles, Yuki and Pierre’s face immediately turned serious at her words, taking a step closer to her.

“Allegedly, Alpine are going to announce Oscar Piastri as their new driver for the next season over the summer break.” Y/N whispered to them.

Charles furrowed his eyebrows and Yuki glanced at an unimpressed Pierre. “That’s it?”

“That’s it?” She mockingly copied him, “of course that’s not it, you bimbo.”

“The problem is that apparently McLaren want to sign him for the next season and Oscar is actually considering it.” She continued, looking at their reactions as she finished the whispers she had heard.

The three of them looked at her wide-eyed, not believing what they were hearing. “That can’t be true.” The Monegasques said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, and McLaren already have their two drivers for the next season, that wouldn’t make any sense.” Pierre concluded, finding it weird that McLaren would drop one of their drivers for a rookie.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, simply chorusing what she heard from her “sources”. “That’s that I was told.”

“Yeah, but you believe anything if it’s any form of drama.” Pierre argued.

“That’s not true.”

“Y/N, remember when that rumour went around that you were pregnant? You literally believed that even thought you hadn’t had sex in months.” Charles added, pleading Pierre’s case that the woman was gullible.

She gasped as Charles’ words left his mouth, making the Japanese man next to her chuckle. “Hey! There was that girl on Dr. Phil that said she was pregnant by Jesus, you never know what can happen!” She defended herself, even though there was some truth to the drivers’ claims.

“But I am serious about this! You’ll see when that announcement is made that I’m right.” Y/N smirked, pointing her finger at herself and walking away.

“The girl's crazy.”

“She’s gonna get herself in trouble one day.”

“[BREAKING] Oscar Piastri drives for Alpine in 2023!”

“Oscar Piastri denies he will be driving for Alpine next year!”

“Piastri allegedly to sign contract with McLaren to succes Daniel Ricciardo!”

The headlines sounded, the summer break being bombarded by F1 drama.

The two French speaking men who had condemned their female friend for believing anything and everyone, were absolutely shocked that every single thing she had told them was actually true.

As soon as Oscar had send out his tweet, claiming that he wasn’t going to drive for Alpine, Pierre called her.

“Okay, how the fuck did you actually figure that out?”

Y/N loudly laughed, like a super villain would do. “Oh, now you believe me, Gasly? What were you saying a few weeks ago again? That I was gullible?”

“Alright, alright… I was wrong, I’m sorry.” He apologized. “But just- how?”

“Look Pierre, when you’ve got a pretty face like mine, it’s not that hard to get information out of people.” She smirked over the phone.

The Frenchmen couldn’t help but give her credit, she knew how to get stuff done. “Well, I’m impressed, Y/N. I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“… if that’s your way to get me all like “oh no, Pierre, you’ve got a pretty face too” forget it!”

“I tried.”

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fics #formula 1 fic #f1!drivers x fem!driver #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc #pierre gasly x oc #yuki tsunoda x oc #charles leclerc x reader #pierre gasly x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader

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monzaaasharl · 4 months

Text

Who Do You Think You Are?

Pairings:: F1 drivers x Female driver! Reader, Christian Horner x Daughter! Reader, Geri Halliwell x Daughter! Reader

Summary:: Y/n Horner is officially announced as a 2024 f1 driver

Author note:: This is set during July 2023 just so the time frame makes sense

Masterlist

Here it was.

This is all she had ever worked for. And now she had it. Becoming a Formula One driver was all she ever dreamed of, and now that it became true she didn't know how to act.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, hell, everyone around her knew that. Especially her parents, Redbull Racing Team Principal Christian Horner and 90s Popstar Geri Halliwell. They knew better than anyone that Y/n becoming an F1 driver would spark controversy, but that's exactly why they didn't hold her back.

Y/n's parents wanted her to have everything she ever wanted. And if helping her with her journey into motorsports was what she wanted, they would do anything in their power to make it easier for her.

Contrary to popular belief her father wasn't as involved with her career as many people thought. I mean of course he gave her advice that the other drivers in F4, F3 and F2 wouldn't get, but they would just have to find it out for themselves. The main part Christian played in her motorsports career was being the person to introduce it to her, and get her her first ever go-kart.

They always tried to keep their father-daughter relationship away from the world of motorsport, because as Christian knew, and y/n would later find out, the media can destroy relationships with information that isn't even true.

Y/n practically grew up at the race track. She was always begging her mother to let her go karting after school and Geri almost always let her with the conditions that she had to do all her homework, and if it wasn't done she couldn't go until it was.

It was almost inevitable that Y/n became a driver, she was meeting new drivers every time she came to a race with her parents. And they could all tell that the way she spoke about karting and her dreams, she was going to go far.

The moment Y/n got off the phone with the Team Principal from Porsche she sprinted down the stairs of her childhood home, as she was staying with her parents at the time, and ran to find her parents.

"Spider in your room or something?" Her father teased, knowing her fear of spiders.

"Much better than that" Trying to hide the smile on her face, however it was growing bigger by the second.

"Go on then, what's happened?" Her mother asked her, confused by her behaviour.

"I'M GONNA BE A FORMULA ONE DRIVER FOR PORSCHE NEXT YEAR" She exclaimed at insane volume.

"Oh my goodness, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you" There were tears forming in Geri's eyes as she spoke. "Come here", she widened her arm's for Y/n.

"That's definitely not what I thought you were about to say", Christian joked, and joined in the group hug.

They all took a few moments to comprehend what was going on. As soon as they let go from their hug Christian spoke up.

"I'm sure you'll be good competition"

"I hope so", Y/n joked. "I'm so excited" She squealed, "but I'm also terrified"

Geri laughed at her statement, Y/n always had conflicting emotions. "I'm sure you'll be brilliant, my love" She reassured her daughter, "Who's your teammate going to be?"

"Mick Schumacher" She replied, "I mean, he's been in F1 before, what if he's much better than I am?"

"Nonsense", Christian answered, "They wouldn't have signed you if they didn't think you would good enough." He tried to soothe her worries, it always upset him when she would second guess herself, she was his baby girl, and he wanted whatever was best for her. "You're going to be fantastic, and I know that"

Y/n hugged her father tightly, she knew her parents would always be her biggest fans. "Thank you, Dad"

"So, how long have you been keeping your signing a secret?" He pondered.

"Since September last year...", She quietly admitted.

"That long?"

"Well, it wasn't certain until about 15 minutes ago" She admitted, "They want me to go sign the papers next week"

"My little girl is all grown up", Geri spoke up.

Herself and her father laughed and rolled their eyes.

After a few conversations, and a few more tears, mostly from Geri's eyes, but Y/n could've sworn she saw Christian's eyes become glossy at one point, Y/n went to her bedroom and decided to pack her suitcase, to go back to her own home and then to Germany to officially sign her contract.

It was now 6th July 2023 and Y/n was about to sign her contract.

"Are you ready, Miss?"

"I suppose so"

She didn't even have enough time to take in all her surroundings, the pen was in and out of her hand in seconds.

"You are officially a Formula One driver for Porsche now, congratulations" The team principal of the team said whilst they shared a handshake after her signing.

This was it.

It was now official.

This is Y/n Horner, and this was her story.

...Introducing Speedy Spice...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist::

@treehouse-mouse @champomiel @honkyscats

Please let me know if you would like to be added or taken off of the taglist by my comments, messages or asks.

Feel free to send requests.

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dancingwithreality · 10 months

Text

a dream p.g.10

gif not mine!

parings: pierre gasly x fem!reader ; friends to lovers

word count: 3.9k

summary: a drabble on pierre’s unrelenting feelings for you, what started as a childhood crush turned into full fledged love and it was eating him alive.

a/n: for context purposes, pierre isn’t with kika (duh) and the fia dropped those penalties 11pm in austria just so the scene makes sense. started writing this before silverstone so we’re going into our own little world with this. will make other parts if people like it enough

please do not take my work! enjoy and interact!

AUSTRIA WAS OVER, finally, and the weekend proved to be more than eventful. For your best friend, the results were just what he needed. Ferrari made some additions to their car and Charles was finally to get back on the podium. Unfortunately for your other best friend it wasn’t perfect.

‘Tenth isn’t bad, you’re still in points,’ you remind Pierre as you perfect your makeup and touch up your hair in the mirror.

‘A point,’ he stresses. ‘One singular point, I’m still 15 points behind Esteban,’ he slouches further into the arm chair he’s occupying. His hair is a mess from how many times his hands run through it, his white linen shirt only getting more wrinkled and he decompresses in your hotel room.

Walking past him to your suitcase, you reach for the only pair of heels you brought, and slip them on. The thin white straps perfectly matched the white silk dress you decided on. ‘There will be more races, the gap will close. Besides, tonight we can get drunk and celebrate Charles, forget about your sour mood until the morning.’ You stand up and walk over to him, hands reached out. He placed his hands in yours and allowed you to pull him up begrudgingly.

Standing at now an almost equal height, you mess with his hair to try and make him look more presentable. Pierre keeps that far off look in his eyes while he stares down at you. There’s something behind his eyes you cant quite place but you chop it up to being unpleased with todays results.

‘You look more presentable now, lets go,’ you grab your purse and keep one hand wrapped around his while you exit the hotel room. You meet up with Charles in the elevator and give him another congratulatory hug before making your way to whatever club everyone wanted to go to tonight.

•••

Drinks were flowing, moral was taking multiple hits, and you were out of your mind drunk dancing with Lando off the side of the dance floor. It was roughly midnight now, and someone had gotten the memo of the twelve penalties given out and told everyone. You can’t remember exactly who got the information, but it spread quickly throughout the group. As formally mentioned, Lando was having the night of his life. He benefitted from all of it and moved up to fourth so he decided he was going out in style tonight.

Poor Esteban was at the corner of the bar slowly nursing his drink while he was grieving the news. Lewis had left to facetime Roscoe, thinking it could make him feel better. Carlos, already in an off mood since breaking it off with Isa, was singing some of the most depressing Spanish songs you’d heard, his back against the booth while Charles watched over him.

Pierre’s mood hadn’t changed, he was still sulking but this time it was Charles’ problem. He watched you have fun with Lando, wishing it was one of those nights where your happiness rubbed off on him. Charles could almost smell the desperation flowing off of him as he watched you as well. He turned his head and faced Pierre, he knew that look.

Charles released a quick breath, ‘You know, we’ve known each other a long time, we’re getting too old for this mate,’ he took a quick sip of his drink and pointed his eyes at Pierre.

Pierre turned his head to face Charles, ‘Yeah..’ he didn’t know where Charles was going with this.

‘Some things can’t be bottled up forever, feelings, secrets..’ he pushed further.

‘Okay..?’ he still didn’t understand.

‘Secretly pinning over your friend you’re in love with, is kinda tiring,’ Charles sighed.

‘Look mate, I love you but not like that,’ Pierre scooted a few inches further from him.

‘Merde,’ Charles rubbed his face, ‘you love her.’

‘What? I’ve known her for years, she’s my best friend,’ he said with a little extra stress on the friend.

‘Ah, but you knew I was talking about her.’ Charles eyes dart over to you, still dancing with Lando. Your head was knocked back in laughter, he must of said something, because while you laughed Lando’s face was pink and he had a shy smile.

‘Charles,’ Pierre started but got quickly interrupted.

‘You can’t lie to me, I know you too well. I know what’s in your head.’ Charles wrapped his knuckles lightly over the side of Pierre’s head.

His hand was quickly shooed away. ‘ You’re not a guru mate, relax.’ The Frenchman reached for his drink again and took a lengthy sip. ‘She’s my best friend, I can’t lose her if it doesn’t work out. Things are perfect as they are.’

‘Are they? You’ve never held a solid relationship and follow her like a lost puppy. You’ll never know unless you actually make a move.’

‘And if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?’

‘She won’t. You know she’s not like that, she loves you too much.’ The two men shared a long look as Pierre let his gaze fall back to you, Charles let out a deep sigh went back to babysitting Carlos.

•••

Maybe two hours had passed and Pierre was dragging you back to the hotel. You all had a flight around midday, and he knew you would prefer if you weren’t drunk during it. You’d bid goodbye to both Charles and Carlos an hour ago when they left before you, Charles leaving with a pat on Pierre’s back and a silent look.

Now it was just the two of you, long time best friends walking back to your room. Your shoes had been long discarded as they only got harder to walk in. Pierre was holding them in his hands while you rested against his back. As soon as you’d left the club you begged him to carry you, the dancing had tired you out too much, you said.

Knowing how chivalrous he was, and how he could never say no when you looked at him like that, he let you hop on his back and he carried you to bed. From the street, to the lobby, to the elevator, and back up in your room, he absorbed the feeling of you. Your arms around his neck and your soft breath tickling him as you quietly sang all your favorite ABBA songs, the warmth of your chest on his back and the soft skin of your legs. He let himself dream, just this once, and dive into a world in his mind where you were his. Where touches like these happened freely and more occurring.

But that’s exactly what it was. A dream. That’s all he would let it be. If you put both on a scale, his intensely deep love for you would be outweighed by his desperate need to keep you as his friend. Regardless of how Charles’ words echoed through his mind he couldn’t act on it. He knew that reality well.

‘Chérie, I need you to open the door now,’ He readjusted his hold on you and leaned down a bit further so you could put your key card in. Your hair tickling his neck as you reached forward to open the door sent a shock wave through his system. Walking through the doorway he cleared his throat as he sets you down.

The feeling of your hands sliding down his back as you let go made the hairs on his neck stand up. It always got harder to focus when you were near, even so when you made any physical contact. Pierre sets your heels down next to your suitcase as you suddenly start stripping out of your dress and into your pajamas, getting ready for bed.

If his face wasn’t bright red before it was now, as he whipped right around to give you some privacy and try to maintain his dignity.

‘Thank you so much for carrying me back,’ you call out to him as you slip your dress off.

‘O-Of course chérie,’ he fidgets in place as he keeps his back turned.

Still inebriated you giggle at his stutter, ‘You’re such a good friend,’ his heart aches at the word. ‘Can’t believe you took care of little drunk me instead of finding some girl and taking care of her,’ you giggled suggestively and slipped a t-shirt (that may or may not be Pierre’s) on over your head.

‘And leave my favorite girl all alone? Never,’ He was glad you couldn’t see him at the moment. His face would’ve betrayed him if his voice didn’t already, leave you by yourself? Choose another girl over you? The idea was so foreign to him.

‘I’ve tamed the playboy! Quick, call the press!’ You laugh as you fall backwards on your bed, now fully clothed. He turned around and chuckled with you. Pierre crossed over to your side of the bed and goes to tuck you in. Seeing you nestle into the covers only made him adore you more.

When you’re settled in, he places a long kiss to your hairline, pulling away and pushing the strands out of your face, ‘Sweet dreams amour,’ he whispered so quiet not even a mouse could hear.

‘I love you Pear, never change,’ you mutter into your pillow.

All he can do is smile as he turns the lights off and leaves your room. As soon as it’s closed his head hits the door, ‘I love you more than you could imagine.’

He says it like a prayer in the night, to himself, for his ears only, but he has to say it.

•••

The jet was due to take off anytime soon, as it sat on the runway waiting for it’s last passenger.

‘You’re late,’ Charles tsks as you sit down next to Pierre and lean your head against the wall.

‘Calm your tits, you’ll make it in time for the next race.’ You groaned, adjusting your giant black sunglasses to filter out more light.

‘Rough night?’ Pierre asks as he tips the bill of your cap upwards, exposing more of your face.

‘I don’t want to drink ever again,’ you shuffled to lay your back against his side and kicked your feet up to the edge of the bench.

‘Where have I heard that before,’ Charles comments, at that you pull one of your slides off and throw it at him with surprising accuracy. ‘Ouch, okay miss grumpy I’ll leave you alone.’

He sticks his tongue out at you now that you can’t see him. The trip was going to long with you like this if you didn’t get some coffee in you to sober up. You knew this, and the boys knew it even more than you since having to deal with your hangovers for years.

So, adjusting your position against him you, Pierre holds your weight with one arm while holding his cup of coffee to your lips. ‘Here, have a sip.’ He angled the cup upwards and watched as you took a little more than a sip of his coffee.

‘Ugh, thanks Pierre. You’re always so sweet to me,’ you reach up and pat the side of his face before falling back into your comfortable position against him. ‘Unlike someone,’ you let your glasses fall down a little bit so Charles can see the look you send him.

‘Yeah well one of us isn’t in love with you,’ he muttered into his own coffee, not intending for anyone to hear.

‘You say something Cha?’ you piped up from your spot.

‘No he didn’t, he’s just being annoying because he can’t let anything be.’ Pierre wraps an arm around your resting frame and gives Charles a look that would definitely kill him if he and the Frenchman were in a more private space.

•••

Free practice is in a day and Pierre is restless. He runs through the track in his mind, memorizing the corners he could overtake and making a play-by-play of the best way he can preform. He also has an itch that's been begging to be scratched in a while. Being hopelessly in love with your best friend makes it really hard to have any kind of love life.

If he finds a girl he likes, which is rare, its either only for a night or he constantly compares her to you in his mind, and no one deserves that. With that in mind, it means most of his romantic adventures last for a night before he can feel guilty about being with someone else, even if he isn’t with you. Or he spends the nights alone.

But he still does it. He goes out every night, finds a girl, and goes back to her place. Bringing her back to his hotel room where you are so close, his hotel room that you spend most of your time in, it felt vile and disgraceful. He always goes back to her place, trying to have a good night without thinking of you. Closing his eyes and trying to erase you from his thoughts.

As he walked back in shame to his hotel room, he could hear your laughter echoing from your door. Some cruel twist of fate always puts your hotel rooms close together and it makes him feel worse. Pierre couldn’t take the sick feeling he got when he realized what he just did and he jumps into the shower immediately. Scrubbing and scrubbing to get the feeling off of him. Using the hottest water possible to burn the feeling off his skin.

Pierre wraps a towel around his waist once he’s out and he sees a new message from you. You were inviting him over to watch a movie together when he was done and he just couldn’t say no. He slips his pajamas on and goes next door to yours.

He knows you’ll sit cuddled together on your bed while whatever movie you’ve picked plays on the tv. He knows you’ll end you falling asleep on his shoulder like you always do. He knows he’ll put the volume lower, so as to not wake you, and stay there with your death grip wrapped around him. He knows he’ll lay there dreaming of a life with you where it was like this every night.

He really has it bad, doesn’t he?

•••

The three of you were walking to the garages, laughing and chatting on your way. You usually got distracted while on the way so Pierre’s hand was softly holding your elbow while he pulled you out of the way of trees, other people, trash cans, just about anything you would run into.

This time, he hears someone progressively getting loader behind you. Out of curiosity Pierre turns around and sees someone running up but their head was turned. For whatever reason this person was in a rush they were positioned perfectly to barrel straight into you. With his super fast reflex his hands reached out to grab your waist and pull you into his chest, making sure you were safe.

‘Woah!’ you called out, surprised by the sudden movement shocked by the sudden proximity. Whoever it was that he saved you from blew past and yelled out a ‘Sorry!’. You’d all stopped walking and your hands were gripping the front of Pierre’s shirt. The way he was staring down at you and lightly laughing felt weird.

‘Alright, cherie?’ he pushed some hair out your face that was obstructing your view.

Were his eyes always this blue? Have you ever been this close to him before? Did he always smell like lemons and freshly washed linen? Were his hands always so warm on your skin? You could feel his fingertips on your hips and it made tingles shoot through you. You don’t remember his lips being that pink and soft looking. Actually, you don’t remember thinking about his lips before. You didn’t know why you were, still, thinking about his lips. Shaking yourself out of this daze, you cleared your throat and laughed.

‘Yeah I’m, uh, alright. Thanks,’ You smoothed down your shirt and readjusted your shorts around your waist. When you look back up Pierre looks a little unconvinced but laughs it off as he keeps walking. As he passes you Charles fall right into view, and he look he’s giving you is smug. ‘What?’ you ask him.

‘Nothing! Nothing at all,’ he shrugs and starts walking very slowly. ‘Someone got a little nervous for a second there.’ His shit-eating grin is wider than you’ve seen it before, and you’ve seen it a lot.

‘No I didn’t!’ you were getting defensive now, which normally means you’re hiding something or afraid to admit you’re wrong.

‘I dont know if I believe you,’ he says in a sing-song voice and you respond by shoving him. Now you’ve both stopped in your tracks and Charles was rubbing the side of his arm. ‘You’re the one who got lost in Pierre’s dreamy eyes in literal public.’

‘If you’re saying his eyes are dreamy I think we need to have another conversation, mate,’ Now you were just plain deflecting and you knew he could see right through it.

‘Actually, if my ears don’t deceive me, you just called his eyes dreamy.’ If his grin got any wider you’d swore it would split his face in half. You turned forward and watched Pierre chat with someone who stopped him to say hi. While watching him you get lost in thoughts that felt brand new.

Charles watched you watch Pierre and just raised his eyebrow and deadpanned. He could only shake his head and keep moving forward while pulling you behind him. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one with eyes in this friend group.

‘You guys coming or what?’ Pierre called from way ahead of you and waved his hand in a come here motion. You ran up to him and the second you got close enough he slotted you underneath his arm and kept chatting about as you two went over to the Alpine garage. Charles stood in his place and veered off to Ferrari as he watched you and Pierre from behind. You were slightly awkward now but trying to shake off whatever the weird feeling was plaguing you at the moment. Looks like Charles’ plan to get you two to admit your feelings for each other and get together didn’t need that much meddling from his part after all, fate was pushing you into his arms and oh, how Charles loved fate right now.

•••

You sat in hospitality while you waited for Pierre to finish his shower. You were scrolling on YouTube and found a video you wanted to watch, so you went to reach for your headphones when you realized they weren’t there. The only obvious place for you to have left them were in his room. Maybe you could just sneak in and grab them, and sneak out unnoticed.

You creeped into his room and kept your head down. He was humming quietly to himself and you found yourself smiling at it, before blinking and getting back to the mission. Hand wrapped around them you went to exit just as quietly but you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye. His frame seemed to glow from behind the shower curtain, why was there light in there anyway?

You stared at his wide shoulders and watched the muscles move as he washed his hair. You stood there mesmerized watching his back move as he kept showering. His waist tapered and got smaller as your eyes travelled down his back, but his frame stayed strong. Before your eyes started going further down you shut them quickly.

This time you rushed out of the room quickly and you sat with your back against the wall. You’d seen his back before. Plenty of times really. You’d know him since you were kids, you’d gone to the beach and gone swimming with him before. You swore you knew what he looked like. But you’d never seen him like that before, it felt different. You didn’t know what to even think anymore. From earlier this morning to now, you were confused.

Why did a Formula 1 driver even need those muscles? Doesn't it like, make him heavier and affect the drag or something? Since when did he have them anyway, 'Hey!' His voce dragged you out of your head. 'I'm almost ready, you got all your stuff?'

'Yeah, all good!' you gave a thumbs up even though he couldn't see you. Your head fell into your hands and you almost laughed in your own embarrassment. Nearly a second later Pierre opened the door and you fell backwards onto his chest.

'Woah there,' he laughed and held your shoulders, he leaned forward just ever so closer to your face. 'You're all over the place today, huh?'

'Apparently.' You shot back onto your own two feet trying to shake the feeling of his chest on your back out of your head. The entire walk to the car you were silent, just listening to Pierre voice his concerns and ideas about qualifying and the race. Then in the car you stayed silent as music flowed through the speakers and filled the silence.

What was wrong with you today? Why was this happening to you? Why can't you stop thinking about him and how his body felt against yours? His hands felt so large on your shoulders and his chest so solid when you leaned against it. And what was that this morning? You'd hugged Pierre before so why did it feel so different now. You'd felt him before, but this felt like you'd felt him. Your mind was racing the entire night so you texted Charles to see if you guys could talk once you got back.

And talk you did.

•••

'Hmm, yes,' Charles rubbed his chin after you just told him everything about earlier. 'I think I know what the problem is.'

'Okay?' You were really starting to question him after he sat in silence for five minutes.

‘You like him.’ He stated like it was so simple. He sat there with his arms crossed and that stupid look on his face.

You stared mouth agape, what drugs was he on. You? Like Pierre? Your best friend? No, no way, 'I highly doubt that Cha. It's probably just, pent up energy.'

'Then relieve it, maybe that'll being some clarity to the situation.'

'No! What are you on about? Mon dieu, Charles you're losing your mind.'

'If you knew what was actually wrong with you, why'd you come to me then?' Charles asked with his arms crossed.

'I think I just need to clear my head.' You got up and walked out, 'Thanks Cha, really.'

'You're welcome,' he mutters as you walk away. Why is he always being put in this position where he's stuck between two very stubborn people. 'Everybody asks Charles for help, but no one ever listens to Charles.' He slumps down and goes back to his book that was previously put down at your urgency.

•••

You'd been sat off the pools ledge, with your legs moving steadily. Why did things have to start changing? Why couldn't things stay the same? What were you supposed to do now?

It was getting late as you checked your watch so you decided to go back to your room. There were so many thoughts in your head you couldn't make a solid conclusion. You debated back and forth, to do or not to do. So there you stood, in front of the door, debating.

Before you get to decide, a familiar voice calls your name.

'Hi.'

fin

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