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vettelsdarling · 11 months

Note

Ive seen alot of quote requests and I rly want a Leclerc x fem reader smut where they start out as enemies (example is like Ferrari and Mercedes or Ferrari and Redbull) pls and include these two quotes

“Youre so full of shit Ferrari boy”

“but you keep coming back”

Id be rly grateful if u could write this haha

Touch my rear wing, I dare you

➪I like the idea! Hope you enjoy what I came up with :)

➪(I’m assuming you mean Charles and not Arthur btw)

➪Also, this both follows and doesn't really follow a specific timeline. I’m just using my creative freedom for this. Some people are cut out of the story because of the reader insert!

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader

Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (both receiving), swearing

Word count: 5.6k+

Backstory

You had always loved racing. Your father was a retired Formula 1 driver and had always taught you and your brother the basics of it. You used to go watch him speed around for Ferrari, which shaped your dream to become just like him. Your brother and yourself were both determined to make it as great drivers. Your mother was a stay-at-home mom with a lot of time on her hands. Therefore, convincing her to take you and your brother karting was no big feat. Especially seeing as your father was a driver himself.

You rose through the ranks faster than your brother, despite having started later than him. Your mother was hesitant to let you race at first, but eventually allowed it. You were called a star and a prodigy. Seeing as you were the only girl there, it made sense. Especially because you hit every apex just right and your overtakes were near-perfect every time.

After karting, you moved further up the ranks, eventually being crowned regional champion in Formula 3 (regional) and moving on to Formula 3.

It was there you met him; Charles Leclerc. He was the only one who seemed to be faster than you. Not only that but the idea of it had gotten to his head. You never actually spoke to him, but you'd see a smirk creep up on his face once in a while after beating you. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off with the sole of your shoe. You weren't superstitious, but there was sure to be karma coming his way sooner or later.

Luckily that karma came in the form of one George Russel and one Alex Albon. The two of them were just as competitive as you and Charles, eventually making the four of you gain a lot of attraction in the media. You were great friends with George. He always showed a tremendous amount of sportsmanship towards you. One time, he even helped you by letting you pass him, having you win the race. All the whilst Charles was left in the dust. You relished in it.

When Formula 2 came around, you were stuck, yet again, with Charles. That was also when you had your first real interaction. He went up to you before the last race and struck up a rather puzzling conversation. Puzzling in the sense that you had no idea why he was talking to you, or why he even wanted to.

“Hey, you're not a bad driver, but I would suggest you try to maybe stop sulking. People notice.” Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.

“Maybe you should check up on that girlfriend of yours. I don't think she's into assholes. Maybe stop being one.” Even though you were in your own garage, you walked away. You couldn't stand being in his presence for a moment longer.

You were unlucky because Charles beat you and moved on to Formula 1 before you. You and he had been tied for the championship, but somehow he found his way around to beat you. It was then you realized you had to do something— anything to get into Formula 1.

Your luck seemed to only build after Charles left Formula 2, and you easily won the following championship, signing a deal with Alfa Romeo, which, to your surprise, was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

You'd somehow managed to place yourself in the same team as Charles, making him the only thing you couldn't destroy on the grid. You had to be a fair teammate to even be considered by your dream team, Red Bull. You'd seen Sebastian Vettel in his glory days, and you wanted the same for yourself. However, being in Formula 1 proved to be much harder than 2. You didn't really know what you had expected, because so many stars were competing for the championship.

It wasn't all that bad, though, because he never really said much and the two of you were somehow able to make it work. It was mainly due to the pressure of having to look good. You knew about the media and their swirling rumours. Many speculated that you were Charles’ side piece. It didn't matter to you, as long as you knew just how far from the truth that was.

After the 2018 season, you somehow managed to sign yourself with Red Bull for 2019, driving alongside Max Verstappen. He went on to become your best friend on the grid, as nobody really liked Red Bull and you had to stick together. Sebastian Vettel became a “father figure”, following the death of your father earlier in 2018. It hit you harder than any barrier had ever hit you, but you were able to get through it with the help of Vettel.

It was in 2019, that you finally started rising to the top and watching Charles start to lag behind. The feeling of watching him struggle was like a euphoric punch. Nothing made you happier. You and Max were a powerhouse of a team. He helped you, you helped him. He was more than happy with it, and so were you.

Everything led up to the 2022 season, where you started casually hooking up with none other than Charles Leclerc. It started at a party that Lando threw after the 2021 season had ended.

-Flashback-

You were dancing out on the floor. Your dress barely covered your assets and you'd had more shots than you could count on your fingers. Completely wasted. That's what you were. What made matters worse was that you continued to do increasingly risky things like doing a handstand, which almost made your dress pull down with gravity. Everyone seemed to cheer you on, as they were just as drunk as you, if not more. Well, all but one. Charles lurked in the corner of the room. He didn't drink. You weren't sure why, nor did you care. But his eyes had been on you all night. The increasingly provocative behaviours you exhibited fueled something carnal within himself. Something he wasn't so sure he could control. He hated you, but at the same time… he hated the thought of someone getting their hands on you. He couldn't understand his line of reasoning. He didn't even think he had one.

The line was crossed when you came down to do a split on the floor, which ripped your dress; putting your panties on full display. Nobody but Charles paid attention to the severity of the move, so he pushed through the crowd and picked you up like you were nothing. He wasn't in control anymore. His brain had just switched to auto-pilot. Nobody realized he took you. Nobody realized the two of you were gone.

The next morning, you found yourself in a fluffy white bed, which horrified you. Your sheets were deep green and silk. Nothing like the bed you were lying in. On top of that, your clothes were gone and you were lying in your underwear. Groggy, you pulled yourself up and realized you were alone. Next to you was a bedtable with a glass of orange juice with a pill next to it. There was a card too and it was addressed to you.

“I bet you had a nice time last night. I had to leave early for a meeting, but I left you some things for your hangover. Call me if you need anything and leave whenever you want to.

– Charles”

You were beyond shocked. You were at a loss for words. Had you really slept with Charles? Charles Leclerc? The one person you hated on the grid? You could barely believe the two of you had a friendly interaction, let alone slept together. You quickly chugged the juice with the pill and got out of bed. You couldn't find your dress anywhere, so you decided to go find Charles’ closet. Everything was too big for you, but after some digging, you found a shirt and a pair of pants that you were able to adjust to your own size. You didn't care about your messy hair. You just had to get out of that house. When trying to remember what had happened the night before, you only added to the already existing headache. The conclusion then was; you slept with Charles after getting drunk and you would never ever tell a soul or do it again.

You debated whether to ask Max to come and get you, or call an Uber. You knew Max would pick you up and not ask questions… well if it didn’t involve Charles. You ended up paying for an Uber to not let the secret spill. Max was a trusted friend but you didn’t even want him to know. Vettel would likely just give you any advice a dad usually would, which was why you decided not to bother him either. Besides, everyone would probably be too hungover to care about anyone and anything but their bowel movements.

“Miss, where to?” Asked the driver. You told him the address and he started driving. Unlike other Ubers you’d taken before, this guy was chatty. He told you about his dog, a golden retriever that he named Lila. He talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had to be careful not to accidentally tune his talking out like white noise.

After a while, you were finally dropped off and you were left alone to soak in the painful false memory of sleeping with Charles.

- End of flashback-

*Still not present. First race of the 2022 season

You walked around your car, gliding your hand around it, feeling the smooth metal against your gloves. That’s when your peace was disturbed by a voice you hated all too much.

“Are you ready for 22?” You turned your head to see Charles with a smug look on his face. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the day you walked out of his apartment. It was simply too embarrassing for you.

“Don’t talk to me. Go bother someone else,” you huffed. Max was talking to Horner in the back of the garage. You had nobody to save you from having to talk to Charles.

“After the night we had? I don’t think so,” he said whilst walking closer and almost touching your rear wing.

“Touch my rear wing, I dare you.” The two of you shared a brief look after you said that. Charles then took the liberty of walking closer to you.

“You know what? I have a bet. If I win this race, you come home with me. I just want to talk, okay? If you win… you can ignore me and treat me like trash. Deal?” You contemplated for a while but realized it was in his favour.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want to go with you and I certainly don’t want the Bahrain curse looming over my head. What kind of deal is this?” You spat. He only seemed to be amused by that.

“Slipped my mind. Okay, then let’s do it like this; whoever places the highest— wins.” You immediately shook his hand harshly and started prepping for the race.

You ended up in P2 with Charles taking the risk of the Bahrain curse. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he would risk the championship just to sit and talk with you. It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t want to talk about that night. Why would he want to? It wasn’t like the outcome ended in a pregnancy. There was nothing to talk about.

After the race, an interviewer came up to you after having talked to Charles.

“—And hello, P2! You were amazing out there! Even avoiding pole position! How do you feel?” You felt like you’d lost everything. It was miserable. You hated losing in races, but you certainly also hated losing bets.

“I mean, I feel great! I was able to stay on top; and to me, it still feels like a 1-2 for Red Bull.” You lied straight through your teeth. It was a strike of sheer luck that you were born with such an amazing PR ability.

“Charles said that you might be upset for placing behind him, care to comment?” You looked at the interviewer with a puzzled look on your face.

“Uhhh, I’m not sure what that’s about. Maybe he doesn’t know about the Bahrain curse?” You chuckled and quickly tried to make your way away from her. She waved and you waved back with a short smile.

Upon arriving at the Red Bull motorhome, you saw Max sitting on a couch with Kelly. He looked satisfied with the win for Red Bull.

“Hey, congrats on P2. Max was telling me about it,” said Kelly. You never really liked Kelly all that much, but she was nice to Max so you didn’t bother her. Penelope, her daughter, was cute and you’d sometimes offer to babysit her for them.

“Yeah, it was a nice race.” You grabbed a juice box from the fridge and let yourself slump down in a chair.

“Why do you look so defeated? This is basically a 1-2 for us.” Max and Kelly made sure to look concerned. You didn’t want to talk about it, nor did you want to think about it. You had to meet up with Charles anyway, so you decided to give a short and vague response, before leaving,

“I guess I’m just tired. I have to go now, actually.”

You waited by Charles’ car, knowing that the paparazzi were taking pictures of you doing so. You tried your best to remain anonymous though, wearing a thick hoodie with no print along with a cap, sunglasses, and a mask. Your hair was tucked inside the hood of the hoodie. Nobody could really tell who you were, but they’d certainly speculate.

“You look like a serial killer; waiting by my car with that outfit,” said a voice coming up behind you. You saw the many fans screaming and the paparazzi wanting statements. Charles ignored them and opened the door for you. Still not wanting to actually converse with him, you decided to sit in the backseat instead. The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes, sighed, shut the shotgun seat door and got in himself. You were not going to sit next to him. You knew that only bad things would come of it.

“So, I’m your taxi driver now? Why didn’t you just get in when I opened the door for you?” He sounded a bit pissy and it was in all honesty pretty entertaining to sit and ignore.

“Hmm. Okay. So you’re only talking when it’s absolutely necessary?” You ignored him yet again. It was a mystery how the drunk version of you got to talking with him— even going as far as sleeping with him. Ever since that night, you’d had dreams about it. You believed they were fragments of memories coming back to you. It was haunting to relive. All those dreams about him; about Charles, they were just like any adult movie you’d seen before. It was embarrassingly detailed.

Luckily, the awkward car ride was short. The two of you arrived at his hotel and quickly got inside. The fact that the two of you were going to be alone in his suite was daunting to you.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get you something to drink.” You took off your sunglasses, cap, and mask, and sat by the table in the room. Charles served your drinks before sitting across from you. It was like a fever dream; being in a hotel suite with your one true rival.

“I know you might not want to talk about what happened four months ago… but I think we should,” Charles began. You dreaded the atmosphere. It felt heavy. Too heavy.

“Look, I have dreams about what happened and I just— I don’t really know what to say,” you shot in before he could say anything else.

“You remember? I didn’t think you would. You were so drunk, you know?”

“I remember alright. I’ve dreamt about that night so many times now, I think I’m going to go crazy soon.” You buried your face in your hands whilst sighing.

“Yeah… I think I would be embarrassed too…” you looked up in confusion.

“Embarrassed…? I know we’re not exactly mates, but embarrassing?” At the very least, he could’ve tried to be more sympathetic. You’d been extremely drunk that night.

“Yeah, you were so loud. I got complaints from my neighbours.” Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. He wasn’t talking about your body. He was talking about your moaning. You weren’t sure how you’d recover from that one.

“Shit… but you were technically also a part of it. You’re making it sound like it’s all me.” You scowled at him.

“How was I a part of that?”

“Well, for starters, you’re the one who fucked me. I told you. I keep dreaming that… so much of it… I want to throw up.” It was probably a bad idea to have admitted that, but you didn’t want to lose the dispute.

“Fucked? You think we fucked?” He sounded genuinely surprised. His face also matched the tone of his voice, with his eyes wide open.

“Yeah, against the headboard… as I remember it, we went at it hard. On top of that, I was drunk… so can you blame me for being loud?” His shocked face suddenly melted into a smirk and his signature smug face after rubbing a victory in yours.

“So you’re telling me… you’ve dreamt about me taking you against the headboard in my apartment? Going at it hard?” Was he toying with you? You couldn’t tell.

“You know… that’s not what happened. You were so drunk I had to take you to my apartment. You were yelling and crying the entire time for some reason. I had to change you out of your dress because you threw up on it and you also threw up on the floor. You passed out minutes after you did so…” when you came to that realization, you were beyond embarrassed. The most embarrassing thing was the dreams that you admitted to having. Dreams that weren’t actual memories, but just your imagination. Did you want to fuck him? Was that it? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it,

“If I’m correct… you were having wet dreams about… me?” You didn’t answer him. You simply got up from your seat and made your way to the front door. You had to leave. However, before you could open it, Charles pinned you to it, trapping you between his arms.

“What are you doing, Leclerc?” You looked at him with doe eyes. His breathing was ragged and you could tell he had some bad intentions.

“I have a new deal to make. For the rest of the calendar, let’s have it this way: whoever places highest wins.” He took a moment to breathe and stare into your eyes somewhat intensely.

“What about the winner?” You asked. The air felt hot and heavy. A knee was pushed between your legs.

“The winner…” he hesitated,

“The winner decides whether to fuck or not.” You gulped at his words and saw the look in his eyes.

“Deal.” The rest was history.

*Present time

It was the last race of the season and you were more than happy to finally take a well-deserved break. You had placed podium plenty of times and won against Leclerc more times than you could remember. The arrangement the two of you had set up was flawed, however. You both knew it was a bad excuse to hook up with each other, as neither of you ever chose to not fuck.

“Fuck, we need to bring this one home. If you win this, you’re the champion! First ever female champion and it’s for our team! Go out there and drive like your life depends on it, yeah?” Horner’s pep talks always got you into your racing mindset. He was the only person besides Max who was really able to lift your spirits like that.

“I’ll be there to fend off anyone threatening your pole,” said Max, who was getting ready to step in. You smiled and went in for a tight hug,

“Thanks, Max. Let’s bring it home for Red Bull!” The two of you got into your positions with your cars. The lineup was in your favour, as you’d placed pole in the qualifying session. Max was in P4, but you knew he’d have no problem working his way right behind you.

As soon as the race started, you sped off. It was smooth, and you worked most apexes just right. The radio sounded and told you that Max was right behind you, which put your mind at ease. You had nothing to be worried about as long as Max was on defense.

“So uh, Max just took out Sainz along with himself. It’s all up to you now. Leclerc is a little under half a second behind you. Your heart sank. Not just because of Max’s sacrifice, but also because Leclerc was behind you. He had the power to snatch the championship from you and graciously hand it over to another driver. You couldn’t have that happen. You simply couldn’t. You didn’t want to let Horner down, and you couldn’t bear to live with letting Max down after his takedown.

“Fuck, okay. I’ll fend him off as much as possible. We’re in the homestretch anyway, right?”

“Yes, just 5 more laps to go.” You gave it your all. You saw red. Everything was just about winning and keeping the Ferrari car behind you.

In the end, you won, but you actually couldn’t understand how. Even though you gave it your all, you did have tiny lapses of moments where Leclerc could’ve snuck in and gone for the win… but for some reason, he didn’t.

You were met with tight hugs and huge roars from fans. Max immediately lifted you up into the air and brought Christian over to do a group hug. Your interview was breezy and you felt like you’d won at life. All throughout listening to your national anthem and spraying champagne on your fellow drivers, you couldn’t help but think about Charles and why in the world he let you win.

You met up with Charles after everything. You decided to go straight to the Ferrari motorhome. There he was. In all his glory. He was scrolling through his phone, presumably checking his emails and his socials.

“Hey, uh, Charles… could we talk for a minute?” You asked. The look he gave you when he noticed was unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. He followed you outside and to a more secluded area where you were sure nobody would be able to hear you.

“You let me win,” you began.

“I didn’t. All I did was—“

“Shut up, okay? I know you did. I just… I want to know why,” you sighed and put a hand on your hip.

“I think you deserved the win. That’s all,” he smiled and crossed his arms.

“You’re so full of shit, Ferrari boy,” you spat and looked away. There wasn’t much around you, but a brick wall and a fence. Nobody would be able to spot you with Charles. The last thing you wanted was for the media to think the two of you were fraternizing.

“—But you keep coming back,” he replied. You slowly turned your head, only to be shoved into the wall behind you. The brunette had both of your arms locked by his hands. There was no escape for you. You had to confront whatever the two of you had been running around doing for the past season.

“Tell me, why is it such a bad thing for us to just fuck and actually feel things for each other?” He whispered. You wanted to deny it. You wanted to deny everything. He was foul, he was rude, he was reckless, but he was yours… he’d always been yours. Ever since he broke up with Giatti, the two of you had an eerie air around each other. One that couldn’t be explained with your past. One that made your heart beat faster.

“You remember the dreams you had about Lando’s party? That was all you. You must’ve felt something for me to have dreamt something like that,” he continued. Oh gosh, the dreams. He just had to bring up the dreams. You knew, however, that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Your stomach would churn with butterflies whenever you thought back to your dreams.

“Screw just fucking. Why shouldn’t we date? Tell me why we can’t be with each other.” He looked directly into your eyes, desperately searching for an answer.

“I… I just can’t— I mean I… I hate you,” you said,

“I fucking hate you, Charles!” He started backing off, and you started cornering him against the fence behind him.

“I hate how you make me feel all of these things I’m not supposed to feel!” You calmed down, and once again, were shoved against the wall.

“Tell me all about how I make you feel. My place or yours?”

“Yours… my room is further than yours,” you said whilst avoiding eye contact.

Charles immediately took you to his hotel suite. It was right next to Hamilton’s. As soon as the door opened— you threw your arms around his neck and he told you to jump into his arms. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and the two of you made out feverishly. There was no time to bring it to the bedroom. The two of you were used to doing it in all sorts of places. The Ferrari driver placed you on a counter and you started stripping each other. He was impressed by your effort to wear matching lace underwear. Whenever you did so, you always claimed it was for yourself, but he liked to beg to differ.

“Fuck, tell me.” Charles was buried in your neck, you couldn’t make yourself answer.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he gasped before going in again.

“Good… you make me feel so good,” you sighed. His lips latched onto every part of your neck that made you feel like royalty.

“You know what I mean, baby. Tell me how I make you feel.” his demanding voice was enough to make you pant harder.

“You make my… My heart beat faster,” you moaned.

“—And?”

“I feel fuzzy around you.” He loved hearing your declarations of love, so much that he couldn't take the slow pace anymore.

In a flash, he grabbed you by the hips and helped you to the floor on your knees.

“God, you're divine. Can you be a good girl and suck?” you stared at him as you removed his boxers, letting his dick spring free. It twitched in appreciation for your touch. You traced your fingers against a particularly prominent vein and heard his sounds of pleasure. He groaned and bucked his hips, needing your mouth. You met his wishes; starting by licking from the bottom to the tip. When you wrapped your lips around him, he tangled his fingers in your hair and started bobbing your head on his cock. You couldn't take all of him, but he pressed on, making you gag.

“You take me so well,“ Charles sighed, throwing his head back. With the help of his hand in your hair, you went faster, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat with every bop of your head. He seethed through his teeth and after a few minutes, you could tell he was getting close. He was grunting like crazy and pulling your hair as if his life depended on it. God, when he looked at you— he almost came. Tears stained your face and your mascara was running.

“Fuck, baby, I can't hold it anymore,“ he moaned and rammed into your face a final time, releasing his cum down your throat. You swallowed everything. He was breathless and so were you, but even so— he still had more stamina left. Stamina that he needed to use up.

“I want to taste you.“ He sat you on the counter again, before roughly spreading your legs. His fingertips teased you, grazing your inner thighs; getting closer and closer to your cunt.

“Hurry, I need you,“ you sighed and grabbed his hair.

“Beg.“

“What?“

“I said to beg for it.“ The Ferrari driver had a lustful gaze and his eyes were filled with a certain need. The insatiable hunger for you.

“Please?”

“Not good enough.”

“Please, Charles.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please… Eat me out, Leclerc.”

“Good girl,” he said before diving in. With a thumb flicking your clit, he began sucking, his tongue messaged your folds in an unreal way. He slurped as if he hadn't eaten in days and you were his salvation.

“Oh fuck, Charles!” You couldn't help but squeeze his head between your thighs. With one hand, he clenched your thigh tightly, continuing to suck you for all you were worth.

Your moans and gasps motivated him to go faster and thrust his tongue deeper into you. Your vision was blurry with pleasure. He was too good, and you couldn't take it for much longer.

“I'm going to cum,” you half-screamed and pulled him closer. He pulled away for a quick second to get a word in,

“Cum on my tongue, baby. Give it to me,” his words mixed with the pleasure of his tongue pushed you over the edge, and you found yourself releasing all over his mouth. He licked you clean afterwards and cleaned his face with a kitchen towel.

Whilst he was walking back to you, you noticed his dick being fully erect again. How that was possible, was beyond you. Apparently, he saw you staring; because he chuckled before trapping you in a delicious kiss. You tasted a bit of yourself on his tongue. It was so erotic, you couldn't fathom it.

“You taste like heaven, babydoll,” Charles whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I'm going in. You're still on the pill, right?” He asked before doing anything. You nodded swiftly and bucked your hips desperately.

“Please, Charles.”

“Please what?“

“Please fuck me stupid, Charles” He was caught off-guard by your bold response. It flipped a switch in him that made him go rogue. You were immediately swept off the counter and bent over it instead. He pinned your hands above your head and rubbed your cunt before stroking himself a few times, and then entering slowly.

“Oh fuck, you're so tight.” You heard him groan. When he reached as far as he could with your current position, you arched your back to help him reach deeper. He rested to let you get used to him. You'd had sex more times than you could count, but somehow, you were always tight. This time wasn't any different.

After a few moments, you told him to move; which he did. He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip in. From there, he slammed into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched like a cat.

“Fuck!” You couldn't help but scream out. The stretch was beyond amazing. He was doing you just right. With every moan and every call of his name, he gained more confidence. The confidence fed him the energy and stamina to go even faster and harder.

You were an utter mess. Your hair stuck to your forehead due to the amount of sweat that clung to it. You were seeing stars and it felt like you were choking. You repeatedly screamed out his name like a holy mantra. It was unreal.

“Scream my name louder, sugar. Let the entire hotel know who you belong to!” You obliged. Your screams got louder and his thrusts— wilder. You felt your legs going numb, so Charles lifted one and it helped him reach even deeper than before. His hips rutted directly against yours at that point. It was heaven on earth.

“Fuck, I'm so close!” You finally yelled.

“Cum with me, okay?”

You went at it like rabbits for a few more minutes before you felt your knot begin to undo itself. Leclerc’s thrusts became more and more sloppy. It didn't take long before you came all over his dick, which pushed him to fill you to the brim. The mixture of your essence and his dripped down your thighs. You couldn't move. You couldn't feel your legs.

“Let's take a shower and go take a rest.” He lifted you from the counter and swung you over his shoulder, walking into the shower. When he turned it on, you felt the hot drops of water rain down on your skin. He helped clean you, as you couldn't stand on your own.

“I'm sorry if I was too rough,” He said whilst scrubbing your back.

“No, I'm fine. This was amazing, Ferrari boy.” He chuckled at your nickname.

After showering, the two of you headed straight to his bed. You cuddled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs were entangled with his and his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you almost fully onto himself.

“Did you mean it? Do you really have feelings for me?” He asked, looking at the ceiling.

“Did you let me win?” You asked.

”... Yes, I did,” he replied sheepishly.

“Then you have your answer.” With that, you found it hard to stay awake for a second longer; passing out whilst hearing the sound of his heart beating to yours.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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dancingwithreality · 9 months

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an idea p.g.10 part.2

gif not mine!

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

word count: 4.68k

summary: feelings are springing up everywhere, and suddenly your friendship doesnt really feel like just a friendship anymore.

a/n: very poorly translated french please bear with me, yes i referenced a song because its currently (and constantly) playing in my mind. reader is french btw dont know if it was obvious with the whole childhood friends thing but just wanted to state it. not betaread so if theres any typos, english isnt my first language and i wrote this only at night so, good luck.

please do not take my work! enjoy and interact!

YOU STOOD IN FRONT of his door as he leaned against the frame, you didn't really know what to say right away, clearly not thinking enough before acting.

'Hey,' you started but completely lost all words, what were you doing here?

'Everything okay?' Pierre tilted his head to the right, looking at you inquisitively.

'Yeah, yeah! Just uh, tired.' You tried not to look at him too hard, lest you start bumbling like an idiot.

'Wanna come in for a nightcap?' he shifted his weight to expose more of the opening to his room, simply inviting you in.

'You sure?' If you were being honest with yourself, you didn't know if you wanted to go in or not.

'Wouldn't have opened the door if I didn't want you in, chérie,' normally, you would have laughed at his words 'want you in' but you didn't think it was appropriate in your predicament.

You walked in and wondered if he'd always called you that, and if his clothes were always that tight. You'd sat down on the edge of his bed, you still kept closely to yourself.

'Are you absolutely sure you're okay?' He sat down next to you, arms elbows resting on his knees while he kept his head turned to see you.

His gaze felt heavy, but it was still as soft as it normally was. Not pressuring you, not bored, not uninterested, but patient and understanding. It would be hard not spilling everything in your mind to him right there and then.

'Just worried about quali, that's all.' you lied. You hated lying to Pierre.

'Oh chérie,' He sat up and wrapped his arms around you in a comforting manor. 'Silverstone can be dangerous but I'll be okay, love.'

What was up with him and the pet names? But still, you sat there in his embrace and let yourself decompress. His arms were always so warm, like a bed bathed in soft sunlight and your body heat from the night before. Like it would be cold if you got out.

'Can- can we stay like this?' You didn't want to be cold.

'We can stay as long as you want,' his voice was soft in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

And you did stay, just like that, all night. That was, until Pierre's alarm rang and disrupted the calm. Somewhere along the night you'd ended up laying down still in his arms. Somewhere along the night, you'd ended up as tangled up in blankets as you were with him.

Your head was against his chest and on top of his arm. Just as his other arm was wrapped around your waist, so was yours around his, and you didn't know where his legs started and where yours ended.

With your hand that was previously clutching his shirt you reached to rub your eyes of the sleep keeping them closed. His breath was lightly fanning your face as your eyes grew wide and your face grew hot at the proximity. By some grace, he'd awoken just then, shifting his position and rubbing his legs on yours.

'Hm, morning.' He groaned in your ears, his voice low and husky.

'Good morning,' this time it was your voice that cracked making you inwardly wince at the sound. 'Gotta get ready for quali, yeah?' You cleared your throat and slipped right out from under his hold.

'Yeah,' he was looking at you a certain way and his gaze felt heavy. 'I'll stop by in 50 and we can head out?'

'Oh uh, no you can go ahead I'll catch up later.' You waved your hands and head around in a dismissing manor. Shit, what if he worries? Every time you could make it to a race, you and Pierre always went to every practice, qualifying, and race together. This change in behavior made you think he might worry but you hoped he wouldn't.

'Alright chérie, I'll see you then.' He smiled softly went off into his bathroom yelling, 'Lock the door on your way out!'

•••

While you were panicking in our own room, trying to act like a normal person and decide what to wear, Pierre was kicking himself in his room. Lock the door on your way out?? What was he, an idiot? Pierre always payed such close attention to you he could notice even the slightest of changes. And from the day before, every one of your actions was off, so long as it involved him.

As you could probably imagine, this made him freak out internally, Was he making you uncomfortable? Did he do something? Or worse, did you find out about his feelings and now you didn't know how to act around him? He stared at himself in the mirror as tried to calm himself down.

The smell of your lilac and gooseberry perfume lingered on his clothes, wafting up into his nose. How could someone and all things about them cloud his mind so much, yet bring such peace and calm?

When you said those five simple words, he swore his heart did backflips. All worry went out the window the second you wrapped your arms around him. How could he say no? The feeling of falling asleep with you and waking up with you so close made him feel so warm. Like the setting sun in an open field of flowers and tall grass.

He couldn't keep thinking about this, he had to get ready. The sweet smell on his shirt was too precious to lose so he folded the shirt carefully and placed it on his pillow. If the shirt didn't smell like you when he came back, at least his pillow would.

On the way to Silverstone one of your favorite songs started playing, and it was just another reminder of you. Maria by Blondie. Event the lyrics were fitting.

Oh how you find so many ways to plague his very being.

•••

You've been doing this for years, showing up to races and everything, so everyone was used to seeing you in the garage. Granted Alpine was surprised at first. You weren't family, you weren't dating Pierre, but normally friends stayed in hospitality. Though soon enough you were a welcomed presence and dearly missed when you weren't there.

You were sat next to Pyry anxiously watching qualifying. Pierre was doing well, Charles even better. Though you were probably just watching to watch. You'd lost yourself in your thoughts and were absolutely absent minded. The mind could be a tricky place when you're dealing with unknown feelings and sudden unknown territory. You were out of your field of expertise with Pierre now. What were you supposed to do?

'Hey?' Pyry knocked his shoulder on yours to get your attention.

'Sorry, what'd you say?' You shook your head and came back to the real world.

'You've been really distracted huh?' He tilted his head accusingly, 'You and Pierre.'

'I'm sorry?'

'Somethings going on with you two.'

'What is with everybody and being so preceptive?' You groaned and put your head in your hands. 'Is everyone a psychic or something?'

'No we have eyes.' He retorted. 'It's painfully obvious. He's never been more distracted, and you're usually his rock and you're a wreck.'

'Thank you so much, that's exactly what I want to hear.' You gave him a dead stare.

'Love is a messy thing. But it's not something you let pass you by, its probably the best opportunity you'll ever have. Especially one like yours and Pierre's,' he started tapping the side of his head. 'Trust me.'

Who knew a trainer could have such wisdom? You for sure didn't. 'That's.. actually really sweet. And smart.' You bumped Pyry's shoulder with yours. 'Thanks.'

'Yeah, I know,' he laughs and shrugs before crossing his arms and adjusting his posture.

The best opportunity you'll ever have.

•••

You'd been having a fun night with Pierre and Charles. They wanted to relax and prepare before Silverstone so you were all in your hotel room. You'd brought your neck massager with you and Charles was sitting with his arms in the handles and head leaned back. The boys were communicating back and forth, Cha giving Pierre advice for the (high) midfield and Pierre giving Cha his thoughts for making his way up to the podium.

You were leaning against Charles with your legs in Pierre's lap when they pulled you into the conversation. 'Chérie, what do you think?' Pierre asked, his hands tracing gently up and down your legs.

'Uh,' his touch was distracting. 'Honestly, I wasn't really paying attention much today.'

'Interesting,' Charles mumbled, earning an elbow to the stomach.

'By what?' Pierre turned his attention towards you but his hands didn't leave you.

'A thrilling conversation with Pyry.' You exhaled.

'On?' Charles dragged the word out and wiggled his eyebrows.

Here was when you noticed Pierre stopped. He was nearly frozen solid, hands mid-air. Why were you talking to Pyry? His trainer? And why was it thrilling? He cleared his throat, 'Uh, about what?'

'He was, helping me with a problem, unsolicited.'

Why was he helping you? What problem did you have? Why were you going to Pyry for it? Why didn't you tell him? Pierre's mind was running a mile a minute. Things were being so strange in your relationship he didn't know what was wrong. 'Did it, uh, help?'

His eyes met yours and there was something behind them he couldn't quite place. While a feeling of dread and worry was settling in his stomach, another was setting in yours.

One like yours and Pierre's, was running through your head. You did kind of already act like a couple. But you'd always been like that. Was there really a possibility of you two being more?

'Well obviously, if you didn't want whatever this thing is so badly, you wouldn't be looking for advice everywhere.' Charles spoke up, watching the tension rise between you two in different ways. He could see Pierre tense, and though it was a weird angle he could see the feelings right behind your eyes. The only question was if you'd notice it.

'Yeah..' You'd nearly whispered, a smile creeping its way onto your face. Yeah, maybe you did want it. So you reached over and rested your hand on Pierre's arm closest to you, thumb stroking his skin. 'You're gonna do great, I have no doubt.'

As if you were a beacon in the dark, you cleared his mind of any worried thoughts with a simple touch. His hands went back to your legs and that calm look back on his face. 'Thanks, mon amour.'

With a light blush on both of your faces, you fell into comfortable conversations. Sharing laughs, stress melting off all your shoulders.

Whatever they were talking about, you'd stopped listening. Right here in this moment you felt so content. What else could you want? Your best friend and the man who was taking over your heart. Peace and warmth spread over your body and you'd found yourself thinking. Dreaming, of a future with you and Pierre together across the couch from Charles. Pierre's arms around you and your body swallowed by his. Charles sat opposite you as the three of you laughed, the occasional tease at the new couple, and a domestic reality.

•••

Your biggest problem on race day was always what to wear. Two friends on teams with completely opposite color schemes how could you pick? So regularly you alternated. In Austria you wore a white tank with loose jeans, a Ferrari cap and matching windbreaker with matching New Balances.

This time, you decided to deck out in Alpine. You slipped on a pair of high waisted light washed jeans and went searching for your shirt. A few weeks ago you’d altered an Alpine polo, cropping it and cutting the sleeves off. The colors matched well with the dark blue paisley bandana and skillfully straightened hair. To top it off you had some retro Jordan 4s in a delicate pink. A light, clean, makeup look was all you could settle for as you checked your watch and saw the time pass by quicker than you’d thought.

Dainty gold jewelry covered you from earrings to actual rings, but careful not to go overload with it. A white leather handbag was the cherry on top as you packed your stuff and made sure to head so you could try and make it on time.

Unfortunately you barely made it, the formation lap having already started. You watched Charles slide easily into fourth and Pierre a few places behind him in eighth. You crossed your fingers and got ready to pray they both made it up in positions.

As the lights flashed and the cars started you were given a headset and stood with Esteban’s girlfriend watching on a monitor. It’s lights out and away we go, you thought as the cars took off and Lando overtook Max on the first corner. You could already tell this race was going to be interesting.

•••

Lap five and Max took back his first place spot. Predictable but you would miss those four laps of bliss with Lando leading.

•••

Lap ten and they were calling in Esteban which didn’t bode well in the garage. Elena had gone with his to his drivers room hoping to bring him some comfort. You were alone chewing on your lip now, hoping this would be all that happens this race.

•••

Lap thirty-three and things had been going good. Charles overtime both McLaren’s as he sat in second place. They were both doing well as Lando sat in third and Oscar defended both of their positions from fourth.

But suddenly K Mag crashed. They brought the car in and called a red flag to make sure the track was safe to continue racing on.

•••

A lap later, thirty-four, and Pierre made contact with Lance. Your heart stopped and you held your breath. Cars were spinning out as he made contact with Carlos just after. You crossed your fingers and kept your eyes glued to the screen and you saw them call Pierre in to box. The damage to all nearby cars called for another red flag.

They were cleaning up the Vale chicane and you watched them asses Pierre’s car. The damage to the right-rear suspension wasn’t all too bad as they managed to keep him out.

You thanked whatever power was listening that he was still in this.

•••

Lap fifty-one and by some stroke of luck Pierre was in sixth, basically tailgating George in front of him.

He was coming up on turn three, onto a DRS zone and you prayed that he would overtake. And thanks to the same power listening before, he overtook George and made distance between them bigger. Cheers were spread throughout the Alpine garage at this little victory.

And at the end of lap fifty-two, the end of the race, as the last car crossed the finish line, Charles in second and Pierre in fifth you’d never heard a garage celebrate louder. Granted until you heard McLaren.

Cars went back to their respective garages as you waited for Pierre to come out. You all knew the chances of Pierre crossing that finish line were slim. Damage to the suspension normally means retirement and a depressed driver. Yet how he managed to pull across that line and keep it going was something you couldn’t believe. And manage to pull through into fifth in an Alpine? You meant no malice though, no offense, just honest thoughts.

He pulls into the pit lane parking just outside the garage and hands his steering wheel to the crew member nearest and jumps out and onto his car. He through his hands up and screams in victory. Those ten points would be his saving grace and push him further in his career.

Pierre runs into the garage and gets picked up by every pit crew team member and thrown around by everyone. There was a joy in the air that was contagious. Your two favorite boys both in the highest spirits had you going nuts.

As soon as they let him down you made eye contact with him. The grin on your face was so wide you knew it was gonna hurt tomorrow. He lit up immediately and somehow his smile only got wider. The two of you started running towards each other as you collided in a tight hug.

Your arms wrapped so tight around his neck and his so tight around your waist they wrapped around completely. Chests pressed against the other you’d never felt so warm, so happy, so comfortable. The sweat from his neck was rubbing off on yours but you didn’t care. You’d have to shower after getting back to your room but you didn’t care.

The pure joy that radiated off both you was more important. His long fingers curling into your waist and pressing on your skin sent you into hyperdrive. In one quick motion, Pierre picked you up and started to spin still wrapped in the embrace. You threw your head back in laughter and your giggles filled the room. Eventually he set you down, and you two laughed as you pulled away, his hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders.

‘You did it mon amour!’ you could barely think straight as your threw your head back into his shoulder and placed a quick kiss to his cheek.

‘I did it!’ He cheered and threw his fists up into the air, the whole garage cheered with him. Pierre started thanking everyone in the garage, shaking hands and hugging them all. He gathered everyone around and started thanking the whole team, addressing them as a whole in a sort of victory speech. Even though we didn’t get on the podium and only one of our drivers made it across the finish line you would’ve thought we got pole with a 1-2 finish.

You stood further in the back admiring him as he continued to give his makeshift speech. That radiant smile on his face and the passion in his voice made you swoon. Maybe you did like him. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe you were happy about it.

•••

When the boys wanted to go to the club, you were all for it. Lando wanted to celebrate his win, Pierre was on a high, and this race was just what Charles needed. You'd told them to go ahead without you and that you'd join them as soon as you were ready. You wanted to spend extra time getting dolled up because tonight was a special night.

You wore your best short skirt, a pale cream with an asymmetrical cut. You had on a long sleeve, sheer glittery pink shirt with a matching bikini style bra on underneath. You paired it with a small cream handbag and long laced up cream heels.

Your hair was styled in bouncy curls and your makeup done light but intense. If all things boded well tonight you would act on your newfound feelings. And if not, you'd blame it on the drink, even if you highly doubted it would end bad. After doing a once over in the mirror you dabbed some of your signature scent on with a light dose of the pheromone perfume everyone spoke so highly of.

So you called a cab and put on an extra coat of lip gloss to boost your confidence as you would need it tonight. Taking one of the deepest breaths you probably ever have, you put one foot in front of the other and walked into the club.

Head held high and heels clicking on the floor you walked over to the booths that had been reserved for the night. As soon as you sat you placed a drink order on the little screen at the table smiled to the two on your left.

'Hey boys,' You smiled wide and let out a little giggle at the end. 'Some of your best work out there today!'

Pierre was left stunned at the sight of you as soon as you walked in. Whenever you turned up, it didn't take long for his eyes to find you and when they did, wowza.

A simple look at you would melt him but when you looked at him? He would turn into a puddle, especially when you looked like that. It was like he fell in love with you for the second time.

'Who are you trying to impress?' Charles raised his eyebrows with a knowing smirk.

'No one,' you responded and for a second Pierre thought your eyes flew to his just before flying away. 'Anyway, tonight is about you guys and your stellar performance today!' As you finished your sentence the waiter walked up with your raspberry daiquiri and you thanked him as you took it.

One large sip later and you were all laughing and chatting. The three of you were sitting at the booth just talking and drinking for the most part, at least until the liquid courage was enough for you.

'That's it, i'm bored.' You set your now empty glass down and stood up smoothing out your skirt. 'Lets dance,' you stretched your hand out to Pierre and waited for him to grab it.

And hesitantly he did, though not before sending a glance to Charles. He was surprised at the force of your pull, dragging him towards whatever direction you wanted. 'Come on, amour!' You'd yelled over the music now using both hands to pull Pierre with you.

That was the second time you'd called him that today, and it made him flush red. You didn't know what you were doing to him and if it was cruel Pierre didn't care. You two had always been close. Closer than most normal friendships. From the pet names, to the physical touches, people would normally just assume you were dating anyway.

But you'd never called him amour, love. It was new and it was welcome and he would pay to hear it in your voice everyday. Pierre knew it was dangerous, dancing with you like this while thinking about you like that. With your bodies moving together and your faces nearly inches apart, it would take his whole willpower to stay away. To keep his hands off you.

Which contrary to his belief, it might've been just what you wanted. Begging him in your mind to just make a move, put his hands on your hips, drag you closer, stare into your eyes and push your hair behind your ear. So as soon as a waitress passed by you grabber her attention to ask for a few shots, hoping they would make at least one of you brave enough.

And as soon as the drinks got to you, you both took them, albeit Pierre was hesitant. But he still drank it and it definitely loosened you all up. Bodies got closer, hands nearly roaming the other, faces so close, it was a painful fate. The two of you so close yet so far. Whatever heavy gate kept kept you from crossing that line felt nearly impenetrable.

You cursed whatever twisted hands put you in this position. To give you these feelings for your lifelong best friend but forbid you from doing anything about it. You could think about it all later and just enjoy the moment, its all you're ever gonna get.

•••

Pierre got wasted. Something about the energy of the night made him go further than he normally does. Luckily, you didn't let yourself go and devoted your night to watching him.

So at roughly two you called it. He was nearly falling over so you huffed as you carried half his weight and dragged him to the hotel. 'You better be glad Hungary is in two weeks, you can sleep this off all you want,' You'd left the club maybe five minutes ago after begging Charles to pay your tabs, which he did.

It was hard to call a cab when you were focused on keeping Pierre on his feet. One hand was up, waving as you whistled trying to get ones attention and the other was around him. Luck was on your side once tonight, and that was when one pulled up before you toppled over. In a haste you opened the door and shoved him in. You climbed in after him and let the cab take you back to the hotel as you could rest your shoulder.

And as soon as you pulled up, payed the cabby, and shuffled out with Pierre hot on your tail, the struggle started again. Pulling him up to his room was a tough feat as he kept giggling and laughing about something. Combine that with whatever was making him stare at you and touch your face, with a look in his eyes you couldn't place, it was a miracle you got back in one piece.

'Okay ange, lets get you in bed.' You threw him onto his bed and let him laugh there as you grabbed his pajamas. This wasn't your first rodeo with drunk Pierre, so you had a routine when it same to changing him.

He nearly always wore the same linen shirts when he went out so you made quick work of that. Then it was the matter of getting him to undo his pants, so you could pull them off from the bottom of his feet. 'Come on Pierre, help me out here.' You were lightly tapping the side of his face and trying to get him to cooperate.

'You're pretty,' he said in-between giggles. 'I like you.'

'Yes that's all very nice, lets take your pants off now.' You ignored the heat in your ears.

'Woah! Take me to dinner first,' he really found that funny because he started combusting in laughter and moving around, clutching his stomach.

You finally managed to pull them off and slip on his sweats as he suddenly got very serious. It confused you for a moment when he leaned up on his arms and deadpanned. His muscles flexing and stretching as he held onto one of your arms and pulled you close. For a second, you were weak and let your eyes drop. The view of his chiseled and toned body with his sweatpants riding low enough for you to see the band of his boxers. The very moment felt sinful.

'Listen.' He said sternly but still clearly inebriated. 'Je vais t'épouser un jour.' [I'm gonna marry you.] His deep stare into your eyes felt so intense that if he wasn't very drunk, you would've given in at that moment, screw the friendship.

'Ask me when you're sober.' You laughed lightly to diffuse your own tension, face the color of a tomato, and used his leaned forward position as an advantage to slip his shirt on over his head. 'Up now.'

He listened and sat up, helping you to push his arms into the holes in the shirt. For the split second your hands were on his bare skin someone could have mistaken the moment for something very domestic. Even you would have, if you didn't know all you are is best friends.

'Alright! Time to get in bed,' you helped him get comfortable and made sure he was covered but not too hot. You got a feeling of deja vu in this moment, but chopped it up to the other times you've done this. 'Goodnight Pierre.' You smiled and pushed some of the hair off oh forehead.

'Goodnight mon trésor, je vous aime.' [i love you.] He smiled and dug further into the bed.

'Yeah, me too.' You gave him a soft smile he probably wasn't even paying attention to. You turned the lights off and before leaving his room you heard a quiet phrase.

'Je vais faire d'elle ma femme.' [I'm gonna make her my wife.]

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the back of his door. Something about alcohol always made Pierre more, intimate. Marriage was new though. Oh how cruel fate was.

fin.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #formula 1 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one #pg10 #ch16

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