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formulas-bitch · 1 month

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Forbidden Love Pierre Gasly x Leclerc/reader

4.8k words

warnings: charles being a dick sort of

On the morning of June 17th, a day that would change his life forever, Pierre Gasly woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. The sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow across his bed, and he could smell the freshly baked bread from the bakery down the street. He stretched lazily, enjoying the feeling of being completely unencumbered by the weight of responsibility that had been pressing down on him for so long. Little did he know that this carefree morning was about to be interrupted by the arrival of a woman who would turn his world upside down.

As Pierre made his way to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast, he heard a knock at the door. He crossed the room, still in his bathrobe, and opened it to find a beautiful woman standing on his doorstep. She had long, flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to capture his attention instantly. She introduced herself as Madeleine Leclerc, the older sister of his best friend, Charles. As they talked, Pierre couldn't help but feel a strange connection with her. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and he found himself smiling and laughing at her jokes.

After a while, Pierre invited Madeleine inside to have some coffee. They sat in the living room, sipping their cups and continuing their chat. As they talked, Pierre noticed how intelligent and interesting Madeleine was. She had a way with words that made everything she said seem profound and meaningful. He also noticed her striking resemblance to her brother, which only made her more attractive to him.

As the morning wore on, Pierre began to realize that he had feelings for Madeleine that went beyond friendship. He found himself becoming more and more infatuated with her, and couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with her. He knew that pursuing a relationship with her would be complicated, given their familial connection, but he couldn't shake the desire that burned within him.

Madeleine seemed to sense his feelings, and their conversation became more intimate as the day progressed. They discussed their shared passions, their dreams for the future, and the things that made them happy. Pierre felt a deep connection with her, and for the first time in a long time, he felt truly alive. but the only thing stopping him from persuading his feeling for Madeleine was Charles.

As the afternoon sun streamed through the window, Pierre found himself lost in thought about what he should do. He knew that pursuing a relationship with Madeleine would mean potentially hurting his best friend, and that weighed heavily on his heart. He didn't want to lose either of them, but he couldn't deny the intense desire he felt for her. He decided that he would wait, bide his time, and see how things unfolded.

The next few months passed by in a blur of work, social engagements, and quiet reflection. Pierre tried not to think about Madeleine too much, but her image seemed to seep into every corner of his life. He couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way about him.

One day, out of the blue, Madeleine called him to ask if he would like to join her and a group of friends for a weekend getaway at her family's cabin in the woods. Pierre hesitated for a moment, torn between his feelings for her and his fear of hurting Charles. In the end, he decided that it might be best to confront his emotions head-on.

The weekend was filled with laughter, hiking, and late-night conversations around the fire. As they sat together under the stars, Pierre couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for Madeleine. He knew that she was now in a relationship with someone else, and that he had to respect her choice. But the feeling he had for her was too strong to ignore.

As the weekend came to an end, they all said their goodbyes and promised to keep in touch. Pierre found himself unable to concentrate on anything other than Madeleine for the next few weeks. He would daydream about their time together at the cabin, wishing things could be different. Finally, he decided that he needed to talk to her. He needed to know where she stood and if there was any hope for them.

He texted her, asking if they could meet for coffee, and she agreed. They arranged to meet at a cozy little café near her workplace. As Pierre waited for her, he felt a mixture of anticipation and dread in his stomach. When she finally arrived, he couldn't help but notice the way she walked, the way she smiled, the way she moved. It was then that he knew he had to say something.

They ordered their drinks and found a quiet corner to sit in. The air was thick with tension, and Pierre couldn't help but feel that their relationship had changed since the weekend at the cabin. "Madeleine," he began, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with curiosity. "Of course, Pierre. You know you can always talk to me."

Pierre took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I just wanted to say that I've been thinking about our time together at the cabin, and…well, I can't help but feel that something has changed between us." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I care about you very much, Madeleine. More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And I want to be with you."

Madeleine listened carefully, her expression growing more serious with each word he spoke. Finally, she leaned in closer and placed her hand on his arm. "Pierre, I appreciate your honesty. You know how much I value our friendship, but I'm in a relationship now. With someone else. I can't just ignore that."

He nodded, understanding her words but unable to hide the disappointment in his eyes. "I know, I just…I didn't want to lose you. I couldn't help how I felt."

Madeleine leaned back in her chair, her expression softening. "I appreciate that, Pierre. It means a lot to me to know that you care so much. But I need you to understand that I can't be with you the way you want me to be. I love my boyfriend, and we're trying to work through this. I want to keep our friendship, though. I don't want to lose you, too."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Pierre wasn't sure how to respond. He knew he should respect her decision, but the pain in his heart was almost unbearable. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Okay, Madeleine. I'll try to respect your wishes. But I just want you to know that I'll always be here for you, if you need me."

Their conversation drifted to safer topics after that, and Pierre did his best to act as if nothing had changed. But every time he looked at her, he could see the spark that had once been there, dimmed by the weight of their situation. They continued to meet for coffee, and sometimes they would even share a laugh or two, but the connection they'd shared at the cabin seemed to be gone forever.

As the weeks turned into months, Pierre tried to move on with his life. He threw himself into his work, spending long hours at the gym , hoping that the distraction would help ease the ache in his chest. He dated other women, but none of them compared to Madeleine. He knew that she was the one who had gotten away, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever find someone like her again.

One day, out of the blue, Madeleine invited him over for dinner. Her relationship with her boyfriend had ended, and she wanted to catch up with him. Pierre couldn't believe his luck. He accepted the invitation without hesitation, eager to see her again.

As they sat down to dinner, Pierre couldn't help but notice the way Madeleine seemed different. She was more confident, more sure of herself. He wondered if it was because she was no longer in that relationship, or if something else had changed.

The conversation flowed easily between them, and Pierre felt a sense of joy he hadn't experienced in months. It was as if they had never skipped a beat. As they ate and drank, their laughter filled the room, and Pierre found himself wishing that this moment could last forever.

Later in the evening, when the dishes had been cleared away, Madeleine leaned back in her chair, her eyes meeting Pierre's. "I just want to say thank you," she began. "For being there for me when I needed it most. You were always so understanding and supportive, and I appreciate that more than you know."

Pierre felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. "Of course, Madeleine. That's what friends are for. I'm just glad I could be there for you."

Their conversation continued into the night, touching on everything from their favorite movies to their childhood memories. As the hours passed, Pierre couldn't help but feel a sense of longing growing inside him. He wanted more than friendship with Madeleine. He wanted to be the one who made her laugh, who made her happy.

Finally, the moment he had been waiting for all night arrived. Madeleine let out a soft sigh and leaned back in her chair, her eyes locked on his. "Pierre," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I've been meaning to talk to you about something." as she was about to speak, a ringing of a phone interrupts them . The ringtone is an old, familiar tune from their childhood. Pierre recognizes it instantly. It's her brother's phone call. He always calls her on this number. The excitement and anticipation in Madeleine's eyes vanish as quickly as they appeared, replaced by a look of apprehension and dread.

"I'm sorry," she says apologetically, "I should take this." She quickly excuses herself from the table and hurries into the other room, closing the door behind her.

Pierre listens to the muffled sound of her voice on the other end of the line, his heart sinking with each word. He can't help but feel a stab of jealousy as she speaks to her brother, Charles, their childhood friend who had always been there for her. They had always been close, and it was clear that their bond was as strong as ever.

He tries to focus on his own conversation with Madeleine, but her words with Charles keep creeping into his mind. "I should get back to him," she says at one point, her tone distant and apologetic. Pierre knows that there's no point in pressing her about it; whatever Charles has to say, it's clearly important.

As the night wears on, Pierre can't help but feel a growing sense of unease. He wants to believe that Madeleine will eventually come back to him, that she'll choose him over her brother. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that their connection has been irreparably damaged. Their friendship, once so close and easy, now feels strained and fragile.

He decides to take a walk to clear his head, stepping out onto the quiet street. The cool night air does little to calm his nerves as he paces back and forth, lost in thought. He wonders if he should confront Madeleine about her conversation with Charles, or if it's better to give her space. The thought of losing her as a friend, or worse, as a potential romantic partner, is almost too much to bear.

As he stands there, uncertain of what to do, a car pulls up beside him. It's Madeleine, her eyes red from crying. She steps out of the backseat of the car and looks at him, her expression a mixture of sadness and guilt. "I'm sorry, Pierre," she says softly. "I need some time to myself right now. Can you just give me that?"

Pierre nods, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "Of course, Madeleine. I'm here if you need me." He tries to keep his voice steady, but he can't help the quiver that creeps in.

Madeleine takes a deep breath, wipes away a tear, and then says, "I just need some time to sort things out with him… with Charles." Her voice trails off, and she looks away, out the window. "I don't know what to do."

Pierre nods, understanding the weight of her words. He knows that Charles has always been there for her, and that their relationship runs deep. He doesn't want to interrupt her, but he also doesn't want to leave her alone. "I'm here if you want to talk about it," he offers gently. " and i know Charles is your brother and everything but …i want you to know that I care about you too. and if you need someone to lean on, I'm here. and i don't want you to be in a position where you would have to choose me or him. he's your brother and I'm just the brothers best friend."

Madeleine looks at him, her eyes full of emotion. "I know that, Pierre. And I appreciate it. More than you know." She takes a deep breath and composes herself before continuing. "Charles and I… we've been through a lot together. Our dad died when we were young, and he was always there for me. He took care of me, made sure I had a roof over my head and food on the table. I owe him everything."

She pauses, her voice wavering. "And now, with everything that's been going on… with you and me… it's just… I don't want to lose him. I don't want to lose either of you." Her voice cracks on the last word, and she fights back tears.

Pierre listens, nodding understandingly. He knows that their situation is complicated, and there aren't any easy answers. "I get that, Madeleine. I do. But I want you to know that I'm here for you too. No matter what happens with you and Charles, I'll always be your friend."

He reaches out, gently taking her hand in his. Her skin is cool and smooth against his, and for a moment they sit in silence, their hands intertwined. It's a small gesture, but it feels significant somehow. Madeleine looks up at him, her eyes searching his face for some sign of reassurance.

"I love you, you know that," Pierre says softly. "And I want what's best for you. Whatever you decide, I'll be here for you. You're not alone in this." He leans in, kissing her forehead before letting go of her hand.

Madeleine closes her eyes, taking in his words. A small, fragile smile appears on her lips. "Thank you, Pierre," she whispers. "That means more to me than you'll ever know." She looks at him for a moment longer, then takes a deep breath, composing herself. "I need to go home. I'll see you at the grand prix tomorrow, okay?"

Pierre nods, his heart heavy but determined. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow. And remember, no matter what happens, I'm here for you." He offers her a reassuring smile, trying to hide the pain he feels inside.

Madeleine returns the smile, a little more convincingly this time, and then opens the car door. As she steps in , she turns back to face Pierre one last time. "Thank you, Pierre. For everything." With a deep breath, she closes the door and is driven away, disappearing into the night.

Pierre watches her go, his heart heavy with a mix of love and concern. He knows that things between her and Charles are complicated, but he can't help feeling a sense of loss as he imagines the two of them growing further apart. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and then climbs back into his own car. As he pulls away from the curb, he can't help but wonder what the future holds for them all.

As Madeleine makes her was into her home, she finds the lights turn on and knows for sure that she turned them off before she left. as she makes her way deeper into the house she finds all three of brothers, Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo in her kitchen.

"Oh, hello Madeleine, we were just talking about you." Charles says as he looks at her. There's something in his voice that makes her uncomfortable.

Madeleine glances around the kitchen, noticing that Arthur and Lorenzo are there as well. They all exchange awkward looks before she finally decides to speak up. "What were you talking about?" she asks, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

" oh just how you are going to be moving into my apartment since im not home most of the time and you did tell us you were looking for a new place to live. so i was thinking why not have my older sister move into my place since i have a spare bedroom and it will help you save money too" replied Charles happily.

Madeleine's heart sinks. She knew something was up when she saw them all here, but this… this feels like a betrayal. She takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "Charles, that's not funny. You can't just assume that I'd want to live with you, or that I need your help financially."

Her words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations. Charles' expression sours, and he glares at her. "I wasn't being funny, Madeleine. I'm serious. I think it's the best solution for everyone involved." "everyone" being Pierre is what Charles meant Madeleine thought

Arthur clears his throat uncomfortably. "Look, Madeleine, we're not trying to push you into anything. It's just that…well, we're worried about you. You've been working so hard, and we want to make sure you're okay. If you need us, we're here for you."

Madeleine feels a lump form in her throat. She knows they're not being malicious, but the situation still hurts. "I appreciate that, Arthur," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I can take care of myself. I don't want to live with Charles, and I don't need you to pay my rent. I just need some space."

Charles scoffs. "Well, we can't exactly let you live in that dumpy little apartment forever, can we? It's not like you're some charity case. You need to start thinking about your future."

Madeleine feels her temper flare. "My future? You mean the one where I work my butt off to support your extravagant lifestyle? The one where I live in the shadow of your success, never getting to make my own choices?"

She glares at each of them in turn, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "You know what? Fine. If that's how you all feel, then maybe it's time for a change. Maybe I should move out, find somewhere else to live. Maybe I should start focusing on me for a change.maybe what i need is to get away from you."

Madeleine storms out of the kitchen, leaving the three brothers looking at each other uncomfortably. She heads upstairs, slamming doors and throwing things in her room until she's too exhausted to move. She collapses onto her bed, sobbing into her pillow, feeling more alone than she ever has before.

Later that night, Charles finally works up the courage to call her. He apologizes profusely, admitting that he didn't mean to push her away and that he was just worried about her. He offers her the option to stay in his apartment, but promises to give her space and not interfere with her life. Madeleine listens, feeling a mixture of anger and guilt. She knows Charles means well, but she can't help but feel betrayed by her entire family.

She decides to take some time to herself and think things over. She spends the next few days avoiding everyone, going for long walks and spending time alone in her favorite cafes. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that she does need a change. Maybe it's time to move out of the city, find a new job, and start fresh somewhere new.

Madeleine finally returns Charles' call, thanking him for his apology but telling him that she needs some time apart from the family. She explains that she's considering making some major life changes and that she needs space to figure things out. Charles is understanding, but she can hear the disappointment in his voice. He promises to be there for her if she needs anything, and she knows that deep down, he means it.

As the days go by, Madeleine begins to feel a new sense of freedom. She starts packing up her things, slowly but surely preparing to leave the only home she's ever known. She thinks about the possibility of moving countrys , where she has family and friends who will support her. The idea of starting over is both terrifying and exhilarating, but she knows it's what she needs to do to find herself again.

One afternoon, as she's working on her laptop in a cozy corner of a local coffee shop, she feels a presence beside her. She looks up to see Charles, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Hey," he says tentatively. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Madeleine is taken aback. She hadn't expected him to come looking for her. "I'm doing okay," she says, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about what comes next."

Charles nods, leaning in closer. "Look, I know I've been a bit overbearing lately. I just want what's best for you. But if you need any help, any advice…I'm here for you."

Madeleine feels a pang of guilt. She knows Charles means well, but she also needs her space. "Thanks, Charles. That means a lot. But I think I need to do this on my own for a while."

Charles nods, understanding. "Of course. I just want you to know that you're not alone. You can always come to me if you need anything." He hesitates for a moment, then says, "And if you ever change your mind, about staying in the city or needing some help…just let me know."

Madeleine appreciates his words, but she's determined to make this decision on her own. She's been so caught up in pleasing everyone else that she's lost sight of what she truly wants. As she sips her coffee, she can't help but feel a sense of freedom and possibility.

The weeks go by, and Madeleine continues to make progress in her new life. She finds a job in the countryside, working at a small bakery that specializes in artisanal breads and pastries. The owners are a warm and welcoming couple who treat her like family from the start. The work is hard, but Madeleine finds herself loving every minute of it. She's surrounded by nature, breathing in the fresh air, and making connections with the locals.

as the days pass by not a moment goes by where Madeleine thought about Pierre and how he is doing.

The bakery owners, a kind and loving couple named Thomas and Emily, noticed her preoccupation and asked her if everything was alright. Madeleine confided in them about her past, her family and her love for Pierre. They listened patiently and with understanding, telling her that they too had gone through similar experiences in their lives. Emily shared with her a saying from their village, "The heart knows what it wants, and sometimes it takes leaving home to find it."

Madeleine found solace in their words and began to focus on her new life. She threw herself into her work at the bakery, learning the art of bread-making and pastry-making from Thomas and Emily. The small town embraced her with open arms, and soon she had made many friends and felt at home.

One day, as she was taking a break from her shift, she received a letter in the mail. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized Pierre's familiar handwriting on the envelope. With trembling hands, she opened it and began to read. Pierre apologized for his behavior and told her that he loved her and wanted to make things right between them. He asked for her forgiveness and invited her to visit him in the city, where they could talk and work things out together.

Madeleine was stunned. She felt a mixture of emotions: happiness, confusion, and fear. She didn't know what to make of Pierre's sudden change of heart. But she couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. She decided to give him a chance, at least to talk. She wrote back, accepting his invitation and making plans to visit him in the city.

As the day of her trip approached, Madeleine felt a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She had grown accustomed to her new life in the countryside and wasn't sure how she would adjust to being back in the city. But she also knew that she couldn't ignore the love she had for Pierre.

The train ride was long and lonely, and by the time she arrived at the station, Madeleine felt overwhelmed by the bustling crowds and the familiar sights and sounds of the city. She found Pierre waiting for her outside the station, looking nervous and eager. His smile was genuine and heartfelt, and it calmed her nerves a little.

They walked together through the city streets, making small talk as they caught up on each other's lives. Pierre seemed sincere in his efforts to explain his behavior and make amends. He took her to a cozy cafe where they could talk without interruption.

As they sipped their coffee, Madeleine found herself feeling a sense of peace and contentment. She couldn't help but wonder if this was the same feeling Pierre had felt when he left her all those months ago. She asked him about it, and he admitted that he had been struggling with his own feelings and the pressures of his family's expectations. He had thought that leaving her was the only way to find happiness.

Madeleine listened carefully, trying to understand his perspective. She told him about her own journey and how much she had grown to love her new life in the countryside. She explained that she couldn't just give up everything she had worked so hard for, but she also didn't want to lose him. They decided to take things slowly, to see where their feelings led them.

As they continued their conversation, they began to discover new things about each other. They shared stories and dreams, hopes and fears. The cafe around them faded into the background as they became lost in each other's words. It was clear that they still had a deep connection, despite all they had been through.

Madeleine found herself missing the simplicity of life in the countryside. The peacefulness, the fresh air, the close-knit community. She wondered if she could ever find that again, now that she had tasted it. Pierre seemed to understand her feelings and promised to visit her often, if she decided to return.

They continued their conversation for hours, lost in each other's company. As the sun began to set, they walked hand in hand through the bustling streets, admiring the city lights. They stopped at a small park where they sat on a bench, watching the people go by. Pierre took her hand in his and told her that he would do whatever it took to make her happy, even if it meant moving back to the countryside with her.

Madeleine was touched by his words and felt a renewed sense of hope. She knew that their relationship was far from perfect, but she also believed that they could make it work if they were both willing to put in the effort. She told him about her dream of opening her own bakery one day, and Pierre nodded, smiling. He promised to support her in any way he could.

As they continued to sit in the park, they talked about their future together. They discussed the possibility of finding a compromise, where they could live part-time in the city and part-time in the countryside. They imagined weekends spent in the country, enjoying the peace and quiet, and weekdays in the city, exploring the bustling streets and the endless opportunities.

as they sat there talking, Madeleine realized that didn't need Charles or anybody's opinion on who she loved or what she did, as long as she has Pierre by her side she is happy

#cl16 x reader #cl16 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly one shot #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pg10 #pg10 x reader #alpine f1 #piarles #formula 1 #Pierre gaslyx leclerc/reader

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thebearchives · 2 years

Text

daddy day care | PG10

PAIRING: dad!pierre gasly x mom!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SYNOPSIS: you and charlotte leave your children home with their fathers to go and enjoy a day out. what could possibly go wrong?

WARNINGS: fluff!!!, dad!piarles (need i say more?), piarles banter, kids being kids, french + translations

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

“are you sure?” you couldn’t hide the worry seeping out of your words, “i can cancel if you want, we could just spend a night in with the leclercs.”

pierre’s hands rubbed up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you, “mon coeur, we will be fine. you and charlotte have been planning this day out for weeks, you deserve to go out.”

to ease your apprehension, he couldn’t help but crack a joke, “i feel like i should be insulted you think i can’t handle being at home with anthoine.”

you let him pull you close, resting your forehead just under his collarbone. you couldn’t help but feel guilty, “it’s not like that, i promise. i’ve just never been away from him for this long.”

pierre squeezed you into a soft hug, “i know, ange. we’ll be fine, though. really.”

you felt small hands wrap around your leg, and a small voice called out from beneath you two, “maman! tenez-moi!” hold me!

you opened your eyes to see your mini blue-eyed devil staring up at you, hands tugging on your pants. you felt all your worries melt away, a smile replacing your earlier frown as you pulled away from pierre to pick him up.

“you’re getting to be quite the big boy, twannie, i don’t know if i can hold you anymore.” you teased the four year old in your arms. the younger boy looked rather confused, looking over at his father for some help.

“ta maman se fait vieille,” pierre couldn’t help but laugh when not one, but two hands swatted his chest, one significantly smaller than the other. your mommy is getting old.

anthoine wrapped his arms around your neck, a pout on his lips, “maman est petite! vous êtes vieux!” mommy is small! you are old!

you giggled at his words, and the shocked look on pierre’s face, planting a kiss on your son’s head, “merci, mon grand. et c'est jeune, pas petit.” thank you, big man. and it’s young, not small.

the boy in your arms basked in your affection, “maman est jeune!” mommy is young!

pierre tsked, hands reaching out to take his son out of your arms, “look at what you’ve done, y/n.”

“tu as passé trop de temps avec maman,” he frowned at anthoine, who giggled and tried to unfurrow his father’s eyebrows. you've been spending too much time with mommy.

“papa n'est pas vieux,” daddy is not old, pierre turned to you with a pout, “what are you telling him? i’m only a few months older than you!”

anthoine grabbed his father’s cheeks, turning pierre towards him, “papa! je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand.

before anthoine was born, pierre and yourself had decided that you would raise him up to be fluent in french, before integrating english into his day-to-day life when he began school. pierre had been the one to bring up the idea, and after four years of pierre blurting out the most inappropriate sentences in front of your unassuming son, you could easily tell why.

you smirked, “papa dit qu'il est beaucoup plus âgé que maman.” daddy said he's much older than mommy.

pierre rolled his eyes and grumbled, “i’ve had it with you. you need to leave so i can unbrainwash our child.”

anthoine’s pout intensified and you cooed. he was so much like pierre it was entirely unfair.

“twannie, papa est jaloux que tu sois le petit garçon de maman.” daddy is jealous that you're mommy's little boy.

anthoine gasped, turning around to wrap his arms around pierre’s neck, “c'est bon, papa! je t'aime aussi. je peux être le petit garçon de maman et de papa!” it’s okay, daddy! i love you, too. i can be both mommy and daddy's little boy!”

pierre’s expression was utterly soft, his eyes filled with adoration for the little boy in his arms, “te t'aime plus que tu ne le penses, mon petit coeur.” i love you more than you know, my little heart.

the beautiful moment was interrupted by the doorbell chiming.

anthoine gasped, kicking his legs as a sign to be let down, “juliette est là, papa!” juliette is here, daddy!

you followed the speedy four-year-old to the door, moving him aside to open the door. on your porch stood a pierre’s best friend, his wife, and a little girl. juliette leclerc.

said girl exclaimed loudly when she saw your son, “tony!”

“jules!”

the two met in the middle, arms wrapped around each other as greeting. your son pulled back first, intertwining his hand with juliette’s before tugging her further into the house.

“mon dieu, they’re like two peas in a pod,” charles shook his head at the two kids before giving you a smile and a hug, “nice to see you again, y/n.”

“likewise,” you returned the hug, “and don’t act like you and pierre aren’t the same.”

charlotte stepped inside the house, giving you a quick hug and greeting, “yeah, you two are just as bad, if not worse.”

“yeah, yeah. if it weren’t for us, you two wouldn’t be the best of friends either.” pierre came around, giving the couple a nice welcome, “come on in, guys.”

in the living room, the two four year olds had already pulled out all of anthoine’s blocks, building a large building.

“papa, look!” juliette had all but shrieked when she saw charles walk through the corridor, “regardez ici, c'est un podium!” look here, it’s a podium!

unlike pierre and yourself, the leclercs had decided to integrate some english into little juliette’s vocabulary, but with the amount of french-speakers in her life, she tended to only speak in french.

“wow, ça a l'air tellement vrai! est-ce que ma voiture va être sur le toit?" charles gasped to entertain both kids. wow, that looks so real! is my car going to be on the top?

anthoine shook his head, pointing at the alpha tauri car held in juliette’s hand, “non, tonton ferrari! c'est papa! il est le plus rapide de tous!” no, uncle ferrari! it’s daddy! he’s the fastest of them all!

initially, charles had been dubbed “tonton char”, until anthoine found out that his aunt was “tatie char” and felt that they both deserved to not have to share the same name. since then, charles became “tonton ferrari” and honestly, the monégasque couldn’t have been happier to be called as such.

“papa?” charles was flabbergasted, “mais, anthoine, tonton ferrari est tellement plus rapide! il conduit une ferrari!” but, anthoine, uncle ferrari is so much faster! he drives a ferrari!

“papa, tonton pierre is super fast! très rapide!” juliette took the car in her hands and pretended to drive it in the air, ultimately stopping at the top step of the podium.

charles gave pierre a dirty look, the frenchman smiling smugly, “you’ve brainwashed my daughter.”

“she’s just got good taste, charles.”

before the two adult children could start arguing, charlotte clapped her hands, “alright. so, y/n are you ready to go?”

you couldn’t stop your eyes from trailing to pierre, who nodded his head and threw a thumbs up. you took a deep breath before turning back to charlotte and gave her a curt nod, “yeah, i just need to go grab my bag and jacket from my room,” you smoothed out your outfit, “this is fine, right?”

“more than perfect. you’re the hottest mama!” she threw you a wink and you laughed when you heard pierre pipe up with a damn right, she is!

with your jacket on and bag over your shoulder, you kneeled down next to the two kids playing, calling anthoine over. on the other side, charlotte did the same with juliette.

you fixed anthoine’s shirt and hair, “maman s'en va, d’accord? je vais passer un peu de temps avec ta tatie char,” you gave him a soft smile. mommy is heading out, okay? i'm gonna go spend some time with your auntie char.

“vous partez?” his lips slipped into a pout, hands reaching out to play with the button of your jacket. you’re leaving?

“oui, mais tu seras ici avec papa, tonton ferrari et jules,” you lightly pulled his hands away and gave them a squeeze, “tu vas t'amuser comme un fou!” yes, but you will be here with daddy, uncle ferrari and jules…you will have so much fun!

“je peux vous appeler si vous me manquez?” can i call you if i miss you?

you couldn’t help the soft coo that escaped your lips, “bien sûr, tu peux m'appeler quand tu veux.” of course, you can call me whenever you want.

anthoine had always been rather attached to you, seeing as you two would spend a lot of time at home together while pierre would be out for his work. you and pierre had been working on his separation anxiety little by little, and he had gotten a lot better, but as pierre would softly smile and say, “anthoine loves his maman a lot, he wants to be with her all the time. just like papa.”

and so, with a kiss on the cheek from anthoine, and one on the lips from pierre, you were off, getting into the car with charlotte to enjoy a day out.

at home, pierre and charles gave each other a look.

“well, let’s hope this is easy.” charles sighed, heading straight to the gaslys kitchen, “did you by any chance stock up on those pudding cups that anthoine eats? they’re really good.”

“that anthoine eats?” pierre scoffed, following charles into the kitchen, “you singlehandedly finish every pack we buy. tony eats only like, one a week.”

charles stared at him expectantly and pierre sighed, “top left cupboard, next to the pantry.”

“you’re saying that this delicious, processed cup of sugar,” charles took a big bite of the pudding, “tony only eats once a week?”

pierre nodded, “sometimes, not even.”

charles gaped, and pierre groaned, “close your mouth, c'est nauséabond.” that’s nauseating.

“i’m sorry, how does anthoine exist without this?”

“same way juliette does,” pierre sat down next to charles.

“but that’s only because charlotte doesn’t let me buy anything for jules,” charles waved his empty spoon in the air, “something about organic and healthy food; no processed sugars, that sort of stuff.”

“who do you think told y/n about that stuff?” pierre smirked, “but y/n is less hard on the healthy eating than charlotte is. she says that we weren’t held on that strict of diets and we turned out fine.”

charles laughed, “her? sure. but you? you are anything but fine.”

pierre smacked charles’ head, “don’t forget that both jules and tony think i’m faster than you. i wonder why?”

charles’ face instantly dropped, “it’s all because of that day we left her over at yours. i can’t believe you would teach a kid lies like that.”

“oh, shut up,” pierre rolled his eyes, “it’s not a lie, i am better than you. who started in f1 first?”

it was charles’ turn to roll his eyes, “that’s because you’re old.”

“papa! maman says it’s not nice to talk about ages!” juliette walked into the kitchen with anthoine trailing behind her, tugging on her dress as if asking her to translate. she turned towards him, “mon papa a appelé ton papa vieux!” my daddy called your daddy old!

it was as if a lightbulb went on his head, “papa est vieux!” anthoine continued, “même maman le dit.” daddy is old!...even mommy said so.

charles laughed loudy, and the younger leclerc looking visibly confused. her mother had never prepared her for such a situation. next to the older leclerc, pierre visibly slumped, head coming down to rest against the cool counter.

“ta maman est très intelligente,” charles leaned over to ruffle the young gasly’s hair. your mommy is very smart.

anthoine smiled widely before turning to his dad, “papa, jules et moi avons faim.” jules and i are hungry.

juliette nodded hurriedly, “si affamés que nous pourrions mourir!” so hungry we could die!

charles pulled juliette up into his lap while pierre got out of his seat and placed anthoine on it instead, “nous ne voudrions pas ça maintenant, n'est-ce pas?” we wouldn't want that now, would we?

both kids shook their heads, giggling behind their tiny hands.

pierre searched through the kitchen, unsure what to feed the kids, “qu'est-ce que vous voulez manger?” what would you guys like to eat?

anthoine bounced in his seat, “spaghetti!”

“yeah! yummy spaghetti,” she turned to her father, “on peut avoir celui que tatie y/n a fait?” can we have the one auntie y/n made?

charles looked at pierre who pulled his phone out, “well, can we?”

pierre held up a finger, holding his phone up to his ear, “hey! hi, amour…no, no! everything is fine…well, you see the kids are hungry an-...no, i didn’t…but jules said she wants the spaghetti you make…then what do i do now?”

charles watched pierre in amusement, his everchanging facial expressions making him chuckle lightly.

“alright,” pierre put his phone back into his pocket, “je viens de parler à la maman de tony et elle a dit spaghetti pour le dîner, pas pour le déjeuner.” i just talked to tony's mama and she said spaghetti for dinner, not for lunch.

both kids slumped down in their seats and pierre opened the fridge, “alors, à la place, pourquoi pas des sandwiches?” so, instead, how about we have sandwiches?

“okay, can we play until you are done making the sandwiches?” jules asked, already moving to get off her father��s lap.

charles laughed, “okay, but come when we call you okay?”

anthoine copied his friend’s movements, nodding–though he didn’t understand a thing–before running off with the leclerc girl.

“he did not have a single clue what i just said,” charles threw away his pudding cup.

pierre nodded, “nope, but jules will probably explain it to him.”

“do you not forget that he can’t speak english sometimes?” charles grabbed two pieces of bread to make juliette’s sandwich.

“mm, occasionally,” pierre smiled, “but tony always has the cutest face and then goes ‘papa, je ne peux pas vous comprendre!’ and it’s the cutest thing ever. i hate to say it, but sometimes we do it on purpose because his pout is just so adorable.”

charles hummed, “anthoine’s gonna be the biggest heartthrob when he grows up.”

“i mean, he’s already got jules wrapped around his finger,” pierre elbowed charles.

“absolutely not.” charles stopped assembling the sandwich, “if anything, jules has him wrapped around her finger.”

“as if!”

the argument continued on for the rest of the sandwich making process…and the clean up process. by the time the ingredients had been put back, charles and pierre had just barely ceased their banter.

“anthoine! juliette! les sandwichs sont prêts!” the sandwiches are ready!

charles’ helped both kids with washing their hands. while pierre helped them get seated and put their sandwiches in front of them.

the two fathers sat down across from their kids, snacking on their own sandwiches while participating in the discourse between their children.

not long after, the kids had migrated to playing outside in the backyard. their plates had long since been abandoned, bread crusts and crumbs littering the colourful plastic. pierre had tried so hard to convince the two to eat the crusts but lost the battle.

the frenchman, alongside the monégasque, moved to the outside as well, monitoring their children as they went up and down the slide, and played with their cars. conversation flowed smoothly between the two, bouncing from one topic to the next.

after a few bathroom breaks and trips to the kitchen for some water, the youngest pair of best friends retired to anthoine’s room, bored of the sun and playground outside.

“they’re so energetic when they’re together.” pierre groaned, head tossed back in exhaustion.

“they’re four,” charles retorted, nearly in the same position as the frenchman, “i can’t help but feel bad for our mums. we were probably just as bad.”

“yeah, but we weren’t four. we were at least seven and higher,” pierre yawned.

“you were seven. i was six. you’re old,” charles laughed when pierre’s hand blindly tried to hit his arm.

“i’m sick of you and y/n calling me old. you’ve got my son doing it, too. what has the world come to?”

charles’ laughs grew louder as pierre complained, never not basking in his friend’s misery, “you’ll live…”

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” pierre huffed, “do not make another old joke. i will literally kick you out.”

before charles could get a word out, juliette came running back out, anthoine hot on her tail.

“papa! papa!” she grabbed her father’s arm and shook it hard.

charles winced, pulling his arm away from her hands and instead grasping her hands in his, “on ne secoue pas les gens comme ça, juli.” you don't shake people like that, juli.

she stopped, a pout on her face, “okay, but papa, guess what! devinez quoi!”

charles hummed, “je ne sais pas. pourquoi tu ne me le dis pas?” i don’t know. why don’t you tell me?

the girl shook her head, “no, vous devez deviner,” she turned to pierre, “tonton pierre! vouz devinez!” you have to guess…uncle pierre! you guess!

the frenchman made a show of thinking by rubbing his chin, “hmm, tu as mangé tout ton pain?” you ate all your bread?

anthoine giggled, “non! papa, c'était si mal!” that was so wrong!

pierre abruptly rose, grabbing anthoine and hoisting him into the air, shrieks of laughter erupting from him, “une mauvaise estimation? comment osez-vous!” a bad guess? how dare you!

juliette looked at charles expectantly. charles scratched his chin, stumped, “vous avez cassé quelque chose?” did you guys break something?

juliette stomped her small foot, “no! you guys are so bad at guessing.”

she moved towards anthoine, who had just been placed back on the ground, and pulled him in front of her dad, “anthoine a dit que nous aurons un mariage!” anthoine said we will have a wedding!

charles choked on his spit, and pierre’s eyebrows raised at his son.

anthoine nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “je vais épouser jules! tout comme toi et maman, et tonton et tatie!” i’m going to marry jules! just like you and mommy, and uncle and auntie.

“absolutely not,” charles reached over and pushed pierre’s shoulder, “pierre, get your heartbreaker of a son away from my daughter.”

“but papa!” jules frowned, having heard the refusal, “je l'aime et nous allons avoir beaucoup de bébés!” i love him and we’re going to have a lot of babies!

“merde,” charles felt like his heart was going to explode.

on his left, pierre’s face was turning red from how hard he was holding back laughter. he did not want either kid to think he was laughing at them.

charles chuckled awkwardly, “vous n'êtes pas un peu trop jeunes pour discuter de ça?” aren't you two a bit too young to be discussing this?

“l'amour, c'est l'amour!” anthoine pumped a fist up in the air, “c'est ce que dit maman.” love is love!...that’s what mommy says.

pierre couldn’t help it, the laughter bubbled out of his chest. charles sat next to him, slack-jawed, unable to believe that the gasly boy had proposed to his daughter so soon. he hadn’t even had the chance to tell her no dating until she was thirty.

with the way charles sat there unmoving, pierre decided to do some damage control, chuckles still escaping his lips, “et si on attendait que vos mamans soient rentrées et qu'on puisse en parler?” how about we wait until your moms are home and we can talk about this then?

both children nodded, running back into the house hand-in-hand.

charles placed his head in his hands, and pierre slapped his back, “mon ami, i think we’re going to share the same grandchildren in the future.”

“pierre, je vais devoir vous demander d'arrêter de parler.” i'm going to need you to stop speaking.

2K notes · View notes

lnlightning81 · 24 days

Text

Masterlist

Who I Write For

Taglist Form

Coming Soon

F1 Drivers

Pierre Gasly [PG10]

Lando Norris [LN4]

Max Verstappen [MV1]

Oscar Piastri [OP81]

Alexander Albon [AA23]

Other Drivers

Oliver Bearman [OB38]

Liam Lawson [LL30]

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f1letters · 1 year

Text

vigilante shit | pg10 x cl16

"you did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them"

summary: revenge is served cold and it tastes especially sweet when it involves his best friend

warning: angst, toxic relationship, toxic reader, revenge, suggestive language, swearing, no cheating (since they are not together), a little choking? (lol this took a turn)

pairing: pierre gasly x reader, charles leclerc x reader

word count: 3.4k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

french words used: mon ange = my angel; bébé = baby; ma chérie = my darling

we are officially back after last weekend! (please, let's NOT talk about it, I'm still in denial lol) 😂 I guess this story needs a shoutout to my toxic ex? thank you wherever you are in the world for the inspo! haha 😂 anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it as always!

masterlist

Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one'll be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

A cat eye sharp enough to kill a man was the first step necessary to a killing night.

Y/N made sure her siren eyes were on point as she got ready for the party that night. It wasn't the first drivers' party she attended since she had become a frequent presence in the paddock for the last few months. But, boy, was it a special one.

This was her time to seek revenge.

Toxic? Perhaps. But the Machiavellian side of her didn't care. Her eyes were seeing red.

And red was her theme: her bright cherry-red lips, her long silk red dress, and the luscious red heels at the end of her smooth legs, which showed through the slit of her skirt.

She looked like a walking Ferrari prize, ready to be picked up by the winner.

Playing with me was the worst thing you've ever done, Pierre. You'll see, she thought, leaving the house.

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately, I've been dressin' for revenge

It all started on an innocent, warm summer day when Y/N and a group of friends decided to take a boat on the gorgeous, fascinating Lake Como for some fun, swimming and sunbathing, while they were in the beautiful country of Italy.

Unknown to Y/N, in the same waters, another boat passed by hers, immediately catching the interest of all her friends. The young woman was completely distracted, tanning her back, when she began to hear flirty whispers and giggles coming from her group, swooning over some random guys.

Curious, the girl turned around until her eyes landed on the figures of two athletic, handsome men. God, it was unfair, couldn't she have both? A girl can dream.

She had always been a confident woman, but old-fashioned in a sense: she wasn't going to approach them. If they wanted to know her and her friends, they could address them. If not, their loss.

However... Life has a funny way of turning against you and when the group of friends was getting ready to leave the lake, their boat couldn't start. They tried and tried, but clearly none of them had the capacity to handle the situation. So they only had one option left: ask for help from the friendly, helpful guys on the next boat.

"Hey!" Y/N called out, in an attempt to get them to look. "Can you help us?"

"Hi! Is something wrong with your boat?" One of them, in blue shorts, questioned, curious.

"We can't start the engine. Can you help us?" She asked.

The two boys jumped out and swam to the girls' boat without hesitation. When they walked up the stairs, Y/N could almost hear her friends' jaws hitting the floor at the sight of their wet, muscled abs. But Y/N maintained his carefree demeanour, which only fascinated the two young men more.

The unreachable. The unknown. The treasure to be discovered. They lived for the adrenaline, for the adventure, for the challenge.

And she was a walking challenge.

"Thanks for your help. I'm Y/N." She introduced herself, extending her hand to greet them.

"Pierre." The boy in the orange shorts replied, half-closed eyes filled with interest.

"I'm Charles." The other replied, with a seductive smile plastered on his face.

How the girl would come to regret it when she thought back on that day. From that moment came the invitation for the young women to join the two drivers in their next GP in Emilia-Romagna, which they happily accepted.

And from there came more races, group dinners, parties, and much more. Everything got more complicated when what started as a group friendship ended up leading to a silent battle between the two friends for the confident girl's attention.

One of them, unfortunately, had to lose, and in this case, contrary to their races, Pierre came out victorious, much to Charles's unawareness. Although the Monegasque was an absolute Greek God on the outside and a sweetheart on the inside, Y/N couldn't help but initially let her tendency for complicated, toxic men lead her right to Pierre.

She fell for his charm right away. She didn't even have a chance to run. As soon as he made his first move on her when he pulled her into an empty room after a night of partying, he dominated the girl, body and soul, like he was poison burning right through the inside of her veins.

But like all poison, it's only a matter of time before you die without the antidote.

Secret nights, hidden moments, empty promises. He continued to feed off of what he wanted from her, while she sustained herself with the little crumbs left from the illusions she created in her own head.

He wasn't going to change, and she knew it. But it wasn't until she heard the words come out of his mouth that she realized really how she had been used all those months.

"I never wanted a serious relationship, mon ange," Pierre confessed, unconcerned with her feelings. "You knew from the start that this was just fun for the two of you."

"Fun for the two of you?" She echoed his words. "You've been saying for months that we're eventually going to be in a relationship. Don't lie now. Which one'll be your last lie?!"

She wasn't going to allow herself to cry in front of him. She kept her gaze directly on him, with a look that could kill.

"You know what? You're right." She replied, smiling at him through the pain she felt in her chest. The corners of her lips turned up, but her eyes didn't follow the gesture, leaving Pierre almost startled by the mixed signals. "Have a good life, Pierre. I'll see you around."

Oh, he was going to see her around...

If there was one thing Y/N liked better than a good boy toy, it was revenge.

And she was thirsty for some vigilante action.

I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately, I've been dressin' for revenge

She wasn't going to let herself be affected by a guy who didn't treat her as she deserved. That wasn't something that lined up with her strong, confident, determined personality.

Cry for him? Be heartbroken because of the shitty way she was treated by him? Why be sad when you can get even?

The perfect opportunity for payback just presented itself to her. Just like that: so tempting, so inviting, so alluring. In the form of a single text.

From: Charles Leclerc

hey! you're coming sunday night, right? need you at my victory party...

Y/N spent the whole time with her focus completely dedicated to Pierre when she had a caring, honest man in the palm of her hand... And she would be lying if she didn't say that the fact that he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous didn't help captivate her now that her heart was free.

However, part of her mind told her that, although she was attracted to Charles, it would be unfair to basically use him to provoke a reaction out of Pierre. The Monegasque didn't even dream of the affair his two friends had going on in the recent past. It was just wrong. After all, how could she do to him what the Frenchman had done to her?

With this, an internal debate was created within the young woman. There were two options: she could be the superior person and move on with her life without thinking about the past, or she could let her anger take over and play with fire a little.

Unfortunately for Pierre, Y/N was never very good at keeping the burning fire of revenge inside her, and she was determined to have a little fun with it.

She needed cold, hard proof, so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

That Sunday, Y/N walked into the club like she owned the place. The white lights reflected off her as if she were the mirror ball in the centre of the dance floor: all eyes were on her as she outshined the rest of the world.

Two pairs of eyes averted in unison as she approached the group of drivers, both believing she was there for them.

Pierre, closest to the stairs she was going up to the VIP area, was the first to approach the girl, with an inquisitive look.

"Mon ange, I didn't expect you to be here." He confessed, convinced that Y/N was there with the intent of getting him back.

What he didn't expect was that her siren eyes wouldn't even meet his. She was a woman on a mission, and her eyes were on only one person: his best friend.

Without saying a single word to him, Y/N made her way over to the handsome winner of the race, who had his mesmerizing blue eyes already fixed on his shiny red prize.

"Wow, bébé!" He whistled, giving her his hand and making her take a turn to show off her look. "I love the red, it suits you well. Was that all for me?" Charles, more confident than usual from a couple of drinks already consumed, flirted with the girl, his eyes admiring her from head to toe.

"How did you guess?" She replied, in the same tone. Y/N couldn't deny that Charles looked incredibly appetizing. His baby blue shirt was slightly open, exposing the man's defined chest, his hair was tousled and wild, and his eyes were brighter than ever.

"Just a lucky guess. The red Ferrari was a given, though." He chuckled as he pulled her closer to him. "You look so pretty tonight, Y/N. Not that you don't always look stunning, but tonight... Damn, you look fucking incredible, ma chérie."

Charles, focused only on the woman in front of him, didn't even notice how his best friend was glued to the shocking image of the Monegasque clinging to his ex-lover, but Y/N could feel Pierre's eyes burning into the back of her neck.

The young woman couldn't help but let out a satisfied grin. Pierre thought he could play with her without having to deal with the consequences, but he forgot that karma has a way of always biting someone back.

Y/N let her hand flow along the shirt of the driver in front of her until she reached his collar. She approached him seductively until her red inviting lips approached his ear.

Letting her mouth graze against Charles' warm neck, she began her plan. "Do you want to dance, champ?" She asked, with a suggestive tone to her voice.

"Lead the way. I'm all yours tonight." Charles responded and placed his hands on the girl's waist in response.

Enjoy the show, Pierre. It's just getting started.

And she looks so pretty

Drivin' in your Benz

Lately, she's been dressin' for revenge

As the pair moved towards the centre of the club, Y/N swaying his hips gently to the music and Charles with his hands all over the girl's body, Pierre's gaze moved with them.

The Frenchman's muscles tensed up, something that didn't go unnoticed by his teammate Yuki, who was standing right beside him.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Tsunoda asked, worried. "You look... I don't know, upset."

"Everything is fine," Gasly replied, though not at all convincingly. "Everything is perfectly fine." He continued, not understanding whether he was trying to convince the Japanese driver or himself.

He broke up with her, okay, he knew that. He would've understood if she showed up with some random guy trying to tease him. But his best friend, someone he's known for decades?

Y/N was taking things too far.

Pierre unfastened two buttons of his shirt, in an attempt to catch his breath, now dominated by rage. If your plan was to make me jealous to prove me wrong, you've done it, he thought to himself. Now that's enough.

Now for Y/N, revenge was just beginning.

"I think the winner deserves something special." The young woman put her arms around Charles' neck, letting her fingers flow through his brown hair and giving him a provocative smirk. "Don't you agree, Leclerc?"

"Well, he tried really hard to win the race." He joked back, speaking of himself in the third person. The driver's hands threatened to slide further and further down her back towards her bottom. "I think at the very least he deserves a dance with the prettiest girl in this club."

"Perhaps if the winner behaves well during the night, he can find out if his prize is red under the dress too." She teased him, licking her lips as she looked down at his flawless mouth. "Do you think he would like that?"

"Oh, for sure." He answered, getting his face closer to hers.

Y/N felt her heart beat faster and more euphorically, something that caught her off guard. This all started with intentions to punish Pierre for what he did to her, but without her relationship with the Frenchman clouding her mind, Y/N couldn't help but see Charles in a different light for the first time.

Of course, she always thought he was hot and she noticed his attempts to get close to her. But at that moment, the young woman was looking at him and her body seemed to react automatically to the Monegasque's presence, trying to reduce the physical distance between the two as much as possible.

She don't start shit, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately, she's been dressing for revenge

She let herself be carried away by the impulsiveness of the moment and, leaving her thirst for vengeance forgotten in the back of her head, Y/N pulled Charles towards her and let her cherry-red lips kiss his.

Leclerc instantly returned the kiss, with the same passion, the same determination, and the same hunger for each other.

At that moment, it was just her and him. It didn't matter the circumstances that led them there, but that there was indeed chemistry and desire for each other. She simply had enough of Pierre and his lies.

On the other hand, Pierre couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. The woman he used to call his between four walls. The man he called his brother. Kissing. Hands exploring their bodies. No shame, no concern for who saw them and the opinions of outsiders.

It was what Y/N wanted from me and I never gave it to her, he realised.

The couple broke the kiss and Charles ran his hand over the girl's forehead, pushing the loose hair behind her ear. Y/N giggled when she saw the image of the driver's lips now stained with her lipstick and tried to clean them by running her thumb lovingly over them.

Suddenly, she felt the side of her face burn and instantly she realized why: her ex's eyes were fixed on her. As soon as she turned her face towards him, their eyes met and she just imagined all the names he was calling her in his head. She gave him a smirk and turned back to Charles.

"I'm going to the bathroom and I'll be right back with you, okay?" She asked, knowing full well that Pierre was going to follow her.

"I'll meet Carlos and wait for you in the VIP area." He informed her, a hungry look on his face, giving her hand one last rub with his thumb. "But you better be back soon because I've been promised a prize that I can't wait to unravel."

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

Just as she predicted, Gasly followed as soon as he saw her heading towards the dark hallway to the bathrooms.

Along the way, and just when he thought his nightmare couldn't get any worse, the Frenchman bumped into Charles, who had a smile plastered to his face like a man who had just won the lottery. Pierre wanted nothing more than to punch that stupid smirk out of his face.

"Mate, I finally got the woman of my dreams." Leclerc innocently admitted, unaware that he was pulling his friend's strings.

Pierre simply walked away, bumping into Charles's shoulder, who was left behind confused by what had just happened.

As soon as he reached the hallway, Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He assumed she was in the ladies' room, so he leaned against the wall beside the door as he waited for her to exit.

A few minutes (which seemed like hours to the impatient man) passed before she got out. As soon as Pierre saw her figure, he grabbed her by the wrist and pushed her against the wall in an act of rage.

"Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Gasly spat out the words, hot-headed, leaning his body completely over the young woman's. "Are you fucking kidding me? Charles? Of all people."

"I'm sorry, but since when do I owe you an explanation? If I remember correctly, you and I are nothing." She spoke, mirroring the same angry tone.

"Shut the fuck up." Pierre gripped her wrist tighter, letting her know that her plan was working exactly as planned. "You crossed the line."

"I just thought the winner of the race deserved a worthy prize." She smirked until the driver placed his hand on her throat and squeezed lightly, making the smile soon disappear from her face.

While he was doin' lines and crossin' all of mine

Someone told his white-collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shit again

"You already got what you wanted. You had your fun, you got me fucked up." He confessed. "But that's enough. You're going to get out of here and go home immediately because I'm not about to take this shit."

Y/N laughed in his face. This man's audacity to try to boss her around after using her as his personal toy in his spare time.

The young woman was far from done with her plan. So, she gave him those puppy dog eyes he couldn't resist and he released her throat, his eyes softening at the image of her.

Y/N brought her face closer to his, half closing her eyes as their lips prepared to meet. Or so Pierre thought, who was caught off guard when the girl ducked her way towards his ear and whispered her last words.

"This is only the start. Enjoy my revenge like I'm going to enjoy my night."

I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

With that, the young woman left the dark hall without looking back and walked confidently towards the gorgeous man who was waiting for her.

Charles smiled behind the glass he was drinking from as soon as he laid eyes on the girl in red, getting a pat on the back from his friend Carlos.

"Ay, ay, ay, my friend. You are completely head over heels for her." Sainz teased and walked away from them, leaving the couple alone.

Leclerc grabbed the girl by the hip and pulled her towards him, placing a soft kiss on her red lips.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Y/N asked, winking at the boy.

"Hmm, tempting..." For the first time that night, Charles made the risky move of placing his free hand over the girl's ass. "What did you have in mind, bébé?"

Y/N started her night dressed for revenge not knowing that she would end up with her body burning for the Monegasque, but maybe Charles Leclerc was just the antidote she needed in her life as she tried to get back to her past self.

"What about some undressing?"

Lately, I've been dressin' for revenge

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holllandtrash · 11 months

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synopsis here | masterlist | word count: 6.3k | spotify playlist chapter 1 of sky's on fire [ an f1 love-triangle story ]

“People have already compared you to the likes of Lewis Hamilton…” “You’re set to finish third in the F2 series…” “How soon can you expect the call to move to F1…”

Red stood off to the side, watching Kingston chat to the podcast hosts sitting on the couch opposite of him. Kingston was relaxed, answering the questions that were thrown at him with ease. He had gone through hours and hours of media training, but on top of that, he was a natural in the spotlight.

Of course Red was proud of him. With this being his first year in F2, it was impossible to ignore the way he quickly rose through the ranks of the seasoned drivers. Kingston was on a mission, he wanted to be noticed, especially by those in Formula 1.

He was ending off the 2022 season with a high note. Only two races left, Monza this weekend and then Abu Dhabi in November. It was unlikely that her brother would be surpassed by any of the other drivers. There was enough of a gap that unless something drastic happened, Kingston Diaz would claim third place as his.

“Lewis Hamilton, huh?” Red teased, playfully shoving him with maybe a bit too much force but as his older sister, she had a right to mess with him. Kingston rolled his eyes in response, but she could tell that the compliment went right to his head, he just couldn’t let it show until they left the studio.

Which is why Red waited until they were outside to bring it up. Kingston no longer needed to put on the persona of a racing driver, no longer needed to uphold the standards he had given to himself when driver mode was on. Here, the two of them blended with other visitors and tourists. They could be themselves, Kingston could get excited over the idea that people in the motorsport world saw him as the next generation's Lewis Hamilton.

“He’s my idol,” Kingston admitted, as if this was something Red didn’t already know. “What if I get a spot in Formula 1 while he’s still racing? That would be-” he exhaled, that award winning smile appearing on his face said more than the rest of his sentence ever would.

“It’s possible,” she said, not letting herself think about it too much, at least not the same extent he was.

Red was familiar with Formula 1, she was raised on it thanks to her mother introducing it to her father when they started dating years ago. Hence why Kingston was now a driver. He would never go as far to say this career path was pushed on him, but if he took a step back he might come to the realisation that he was never really given any other choice.

But this path has worked for him, so there was no need to question it. And Red was happy enough to just be along for the ride when she could.

“2024,” Kingston nodded, clapping his hands together. “That’s the goal. Have an F1 seat for 2024.”

Red didn’t say anything in response. Her brother always dreamt big and it was better to just support him with a smile and a nod than to try and bring him back down to earth. She wasn’t necessarily a pessimist but she saw the world for how it was, and realistically speaking, Kingston getting offered a seat for the 2024 season was extremely unlikely, especially with a few teams already making drastic changes to their line up for next year.

She let him go off about the possibilities until they reached the car that was parked just down the street. Kingston smiled at the few people who were admiring the sleek McLaren GT and maybe he was a little arrogant when he pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors.

It’s on loan, Red wanted to yell and completely burst his bubble, but she climbed in the passenger seat without saying a word, letting her brother have his moment.

“I just have a few more media obligations at the paddock and then we’re free for the rest of the day,” he assured her as the car roared to life. Red didn’t have any plans anyway, she never did during race weekends. Her job was to be the supportive sister and that was a role she happily stepped into.

So she stood on the sideline again, a prominent smile on her face as she watched Kingston and his teammate participate in some sort of challenge that she didn’t really understand and by the looks of it, neither did the drivers.

Red was proud of her brother, truly. She loved watching him thrive and the excitement he carried on race weekends was contagious. That was why she tried to go to as many races as she could. It was impossible to worry about anything with Kingston’s smile lighting up the paddock, before and after each of his sessions, regardless of his standings.

He was carefree and optimistic. Two things that Red knew she was not. So the more time she spent around him the better it was for her own sake.

By the time they finished filming, Kingston said he wanted to quickly look at some of the footage, and no one ever said no to him, so Red told him that she’d just meet him outside the media building.

She walked out and noticed that during their time inside, the sun had started to set and was no longer beaming down on them with horrid heat. Red pulled the sunglasses off of her head and unzipped the bag that rested over her chest.

Multitasking was not something she excelled at and with the couple of steps she had to walk down, Red looked up from her bag to make sure she wouldn’t trip.

Red wished she was joking when she said that time slowed as two F1 drivers walked by her. While she attended as many of King’s races as she could, it was rare she ever interacted with anyone outside his team, let alone Formula 1 drivers.

Completely forgetting about the sunglasses she was fumbling to fit into the belt bag strapped over her shoulder, she spotted the drivers and that’s when her world stopped.

And Red didn’t believe in love at first sight, she had followed that path hopelessly once before and it only left her in heartbreak, but this was different.

She looked up and locked eyes with him and she knew that damage was done.

Because that’s what it was. An accident waiting to happen.

Red knew that nothing good was going to come from this chance encounter because her attention went directly to the driver with dark brown hair and green eyes, but it was the one with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that stopped walking so he could talk to her.

He was a man with a mission. His knew what he wanted since he spotted her walking out of the media building. The one in red, however, did a double take as he looked up at her, then at his phone and then snapped his head up once more when he saw the girl that was about to pass him. As if not believing that someone like her was truly in front of him, like she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

Red, this whole time, didn’t even think about the one who was actually giving her attention until he stopped walking and said something, his hand brushing over her arm to keep her from going any further as well.

“Hi,” he said, his lips curling upwards to show off a dangerous smile. “Sorry to stop you, but may I ask who you're here with?”

Red looked over her shoulder, expecting her brother to be behind her but he must not have followed immediately, probably still watching the footage.

“Kingston,” she answered, gesturing with her thumb to the doors of the media building. “Diaz, sorry. Kingston Diaz, The F2 driver. He’s my brother.”

He looked more optimistic when she said those words. My brother. She wasn’t there with a partner, which was why he felt confident enough to extend his hand and introduce himself.

“I’m Pierre,” his smile had yet to fade. The more Red stared at it, at him, the more she thought to herself that this man was going to be trouble.

But she shook his hand, ignoring the sirens and the flashing red lights going off in the back of her head. A choice that she would one day regret.

“Red,” she smiled back, eyes darting to his friend. She knew who Pierre was, he didn’t need to introduce himself, just like Charles Leclerc also didn’t need to introduce himself. And he probably wouldn’t have, had she kept her gaze on Pierre.

“Charles,” he waited until Pierre dropped her hand so he could shake it as well, maybe holding on a second longer than his friend did but no one was going to comment on that, even if they all noticed. “I’m sorry, your name is Red?”

This was a common question. Red wished she had the confidence and the charisma to make a joke about her parents name choosing skills. She wished she could say something witty, something that would make these two prestigious men standing before her crack a smile or laugh.

But Red went with the safe route. She wasn’t in Monza to make any sort of impression, she was there to support her brother.

“It’s my initials,” she clarified.

Charles asked before Pierre could and then ignored the sliver of annoyance in his friend's features, focusing on the girl in front of him instead, “So what is your name?”

“Well, Red,” she said again. “I’ve been called that my entire life, anything else would just sound foreign.” She swallowed, wondering why she was wasting time and not even answering his question properly. “Sorry, it’s River. But again, no one calls me that.”

“Red,” Pierre said with a nod, toying with the idea of what it would be like to hear himself say it more often. He didn’t hate it.

His line of sight darted downwards for a quick second, she caught it. The subtle way he checked her out. She didn’t hate that. While her initial attraction was for Charles, the Ferrari driver seemed to be stuck in his thoughts and the idea of making any sort of move took a backseat.

Pierre took advantage of his friend's hesitation.

“Well Charles sees enough red to last a lifetime, whereas I unfortunately don’t,” Pierre licked his lips as a faint chuckle passed through them. “Are you free tonight?”

Red, not used to the idea that someone with as high of a status as Pierre Gasly would be interested in her, actually looked over shoulder, expecting to see a much prettier, well-versed and confident girl behind her. But there was no one.

“You’re asking me out?” Maybe that wasn’t the best response, but it earned another laugh from the French driver. Charles chuckled as well, but his sounded a bit more forced.

“I am,” he was so poised, so sure of his response whereas Red was fumbling.

“Oh,” she nodded and then another, “Oh- I mean, yes. Yes, I’m free.”

“Perfect,” Pierre was pleased with her answer. “I assume you’re staying in Milan?”

“The Four Seasons,” she confirmed.

“Great. Meet me in the lobby at seven.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion. Pierre was telling her where to be at what time and Red, in that moment, admired the confidence. She didn’t see it as a telling sign that this would be a recurring theme. She simply nodded, still in awe and confusion as the two of them turned around and kept walking.

Red waited a second before making a move anywhere and because the soles of her shoes were seemingly frozen to the ground as she processed what just happened, she caught the way Charles turned over his shoulder, wanting to take one last quick look at the girl that Pierre was taking out on a date because he couldn’t find his words fast enough.

By the time Kingston did leave the media building, he noticed the way his sister was seemingly starstruck.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I might as well have,” Red shook her head. The last few minutes didn’t feel real. If someone told her she dreamt it, she would believe them. “I got asked out.”

Kingston snorted, wondering how that could have happened in the short amount of time he was stuck inside, “By who?”

She looked down the paddock but the two drivers were already long gone. A sharp inhale was all she could provide at first when she looked at Kingston, trying to guess how he would respond to the idea of her going out with a driver.

“Pierre Gasly.”

His reaction was not one she could have anticipated. It was evident with his expression alone that he didn’t believe her and when he continued walking down the paddock, Red walked at his side, explaining what had happened in the last couple of minutes to the best of her ability.

It wasn’t until they climbed into the car did it finally click for Kingston that she was being honest. AlphaTauri driver, soon to be Alpine driver, Pierre Gasly was in fact taking his sister out on a date.

Being a few years younger than Red, Kingston wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have an opinion, if he was allowed to take on the protective brother role. The uncertainty behind whether or not Red would even listen was what convinced him to keep his mouth shut at the end of it.

But he had heard things about the French driver. Rumours, gossip really, that he wasn’t someone who lasted long in relationships. His name was attached to the words infidelity and dishonesty, but if Kingston had heard such things, surely his sister must have as well.

And Red was an adult. She could make her own choices. Kingston knew she was smart, maybe a little naive and had some hopeless romantic tendencies, but he hoped that after a few years, she had learned from her previous relationships.

She didn’t talk about her partner from highschool, but at this point it had been almost seven years. While being cheated on was something that would always haunt her, no matter how old she got, she had moved on from the toxicity of her first boyfriend.

And then there was ‘the phase’ as Kingston called it. The time in her life where she would be with any guy who showed her a fraction of attention. She treated them far better than any of them ever treated her, but Red was at a point in her life where she didn’t know how to thrive in being alone. She was dependent on male figures, usually older.

Once, Kingston called her out on it, using the term ‘daddy issues’ and he didn’t use it loosely either. Growing up in the same household, Kingston had seen the lack of attention she received from their father, he saw the disconnect, he saw how hard she worked for his approval and praise.

When she got older, instead of trying to find reconciliation with their father, she moved on to searching for what was missing in partners. Kingston pointed out that a lot of the men she was with were the same as their dad. Mirroring Arlos’ emotionally unavailable and toxic traits. It shouldn’t have come to a surprise when Red brushed the idea off, she had done the same with her dad for years. Never wanting to accept that her issues were so deeply rooted in her childhood and were now affecting the way she sought out partners.

There was only ever one boyfriend of hers that Kingston approved of. He was also the only one who ever met their parents as Red knew he was one to show off, one to be proud of. He treated her right and it was heartbreaking for nearly everyone in her life when they called it off.

But it was the long distance that proved to be too challenging to overcome. If he was in Europe that would be one thing, but with Red living in London and Mason’s career being based out of LA, it wasn’t destined to last.

She had been single since then, trying to grow in this new chapter she found herself in and spending most of 2021 and up until now, all of 2022 by herself. It was good for her, everyone agreed.

Ultimately, that’s why Kingston kept quiet, muttering a reminder to ‘be careful, is all’ when she said that she was going to go on the date with Pierre. He trusted she could take care of herself, that she had learned the lessons required to find happiness with someone, someone that wouldn’t drain her. The rumours about him were just that, rumours. He had no idea what Pierre was actually like in a relationship and he had faith in his sister that if things become difficult, she would leave. Having Mason as a reminder of what a healthy relationship looked like, Kingston wasn’t as worried about Red as he would have been years ago.

Red chose a black dress for her date, nothing scandalous but it was form fitting and off the shoulder. The gold necklace she wore matched her earrings and rings and stood out beautifully against her tanned skin. Her hair took a bit more effort and when the Milan heat proved to be pointless to fight against, she opted for pulling her hair back into a high ponytail.

She could have headed down to the lobby of the hotel when she finished getting ready ten minutes to seven, but she waited, not wanting to seem too eager. Of course, with her luck, everyone seemed to be needing the elevator when she pressed the button and Red didn’t end up stepping foot onto the main floor until a little after the designated time.

Unsure where to look for her date, she just headed towards the front of the hotel. She glanced towards the couches, the doors and then finally looked at the bar that seemed to be quite full for a Wednesday evening.

She didn’t see Pierre, but she did see Charles.

Any other given evening, Red would not have gone up to him to start a conversation. She didn’t know the Monegasque driver, they exchanged only a few words in the paddock and he was not the one she was going on a date with.

But he spotted her and with an inviting smile, waved her over to the bar top. Red hesitated, naturally, glancing over her shoulder to see if Pierre was nearby but again, he wasn’t in sight. So she crossed the lobby of the hotel and stepped into the connected restaurant, greeting Charles with a smile of her own. He straightened up instead of leaning against the bar top.

“Pierre got a phone call not even twenty seconds ago,” Charles explained, doing his best to keep his eyes up even though all he wanted was to admire the way she looked in the dress. “He just stepped out to answer it, I can assure you, you weren’t stood up.”

Red laughed, “Honestly the thought didn’t cross my mind, but thank you for clarifying.” She looked around, not feeling awkward but definitely feeling a little out of place. Her comfort zone was F2 drivers, and even then she didn’t know many of them. When her eyes landed back on Charles, they both opened their mouths to say something and then simultaneously shut them.

Charles dipped his head, “You first.”

“Oh I was just curious as to what you were doing here, is all,” she said. “Are you staying in this hotel?”

“Ah, no,” Charles admitted. “Meeting a friend who’s staying here. It was convenient, honestly, that Pierre was also coming by. We just took the same car.”

“You two are- you’re friends, right?” Red asked and then felt the heat rise up to her cheeks. “I mean, I know you’re both drivers but you two are actually friends outside the races, right? Or was that just a bullshit article I read on twitter?”

He glanced down at the drink resting on the bar top and chuckled, “No, no we are friends. We grew up racing together.”

Red wasn’t sure if that information made this scenario easier or harder. She knew she was going on a date with Pierre, so the fact that she felt a pull of attraction towards Charles, his lifelong friend, was not ideal. Red did her best to ignore it, even taking a step back to create a bigger gap between them. Because that was the respectful thing to do, right?

She should have been thankful when Charles’ eyes darted behind her. Red turned as well, seeing that it was Pierre who caught his attention.

He looked nice, a pair of black slacks and a white linen shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease what laid beneath the material. The sleeves were rolled up his elbows and he adjusted the black watch on his wrist as he smiled at Red and Charles.

“You look beautiful,” Pierre greeted her, hand going to her back. “Sorry, I had to take a call. I promise I usually have much better time management.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” she said, taking in his sharp features. Pierre was devilishly handsome, there was no denying that. If he wasn’t smiling or talking, his lips fell into a natural smirk, drawing her in like he had a secret to tell.

Pierre patted his friend’s arm, “Thanks for keeping her company. Are you ready to go?” He nodded his head towards the front of the hotel.

Red stepped away from the bar and closer to Pierre as he told her he made reservations at Sadler, a restaurant she was unfamiliar with as she had only ever spent a handful of days in Milan over the course of the last few years and eating at a Michelin-star restaurant was never on her list of things to do.

As Pierre was in the middle of telling Red that it was a short walk away from the hotel she halted and quickly turned back around, remembering that Charles also had a thought that he didn’t get to share. She pointed a finger at him, “You were trying to say something earlier before I asked why you were at the hotel-”

Charles waved it off, glancing at Pierre. “It’s nothing, I was just-” another look at Pierre, this time with caution. “I was just going to say you look lovely, is all.”

“Oh,” she felt the flutter in her chest, something she didn’t feel when Pierre complimented her. Again, she didn’t dwell on it. “Thank you and, uhm-” Pierre was waiting. “Have a good night.”

Pierre confirmed that she was alright walking in heels for a few minutes, offering to order a car if she preferred, but Red wasn’t one to complain and the restaurant wasn’t far, only a block up and over.

She couldn’t remember the last time she went on a date so the only word to describe her for the first few minutes after sitting down at the table was awkward. Whereas Pierre’s aura was nothing but cool and confident.

“Tell me about yourself,” Pierre said after the waiter had come by and poured them both a glass of wine. Red wasn’t a huge drinker, but she happily took a sip of the drink before answering. It didn’t ease her nerves instantly, but maybe by the time she finished the glass she’d be comfortable.

That was a loaded question though, one that Red didn’t even know how to start answering. The people she met usually cared about her brother and his career. Red was used to the spotlight being on him, even if he was nowhere around.

Now that she was given the opportunity to talk freely about herself, prompted by Pierre fucking Gasly, Red blanked.

Pierre noticed the hesitation, he could see the gears grinding behind her eyes as she tried to think of what to say. He found amusement in that and chuckled, changing the topic.

“Okay, what if you just tell me where you’re from.”

That she could do, “Birmingham,” she answered, feeling her cheeks flush. “But I moved to London after I finished highschool and I’ve been there since.”

“And what do you do there?”

She grimaced, “This is going to sound really pretentious, but I’m a model.”

“I don’t think it’s pretentious,” Pierre assured her. “I think it’s fitting though, you are beautiful. I’d buy whatever you’re selling.”

“No but I’m probably the worst model,” Red laughed before taking another sip of her drink. “I’m so painfully awkward in front of the camera and I don’t get booked for half of the jobs my agent sends me to. I’ll show up to the set and the director takes one look at me and sends me home,” she laughed again and Pierre joined in, both of them happy to find a little humour in her dilemmas.

“Why don’t you switch career paths then?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows atop the table and clasping his hands together. The eye contact he held intimated her, but she knew it was impolite to keep looking away.

“Well I don’t hate it, I just wish I was better at it,” Red told him, fingers twirling around the stem of her wine glass. “I think because Kingston is a natural in front of the cameras and talking to the media, people assume I’m the same way but I’m very…I don’t know, not as confident as I’d like to be, I guess.”

Pierre could have asked something about her brother, she had practically opened the door for him to, but he seemed to gloss right over the mention of Kingston, instead asking another question about her job which led into a discussion about travelling and by the time their entrees came, Red was telling Pierre that if she could move to Spain, she would.

They talked about the languages they spoke, Red had him beat. Pierre knew three, she knew four. She said she’d teach him Spanish and if he taught her Italian, Pierre agreed to that deal.

He spoke about Formula 1, but not for very long. Red was surrounded by motorsport just by following Kingston and as interested as she was to learn about Pierre, there was more to him than just his career.

Red enjoyed talking to him. Once she got past the stage of not knowing what to say, conversation between them flowed naturally. He was a good listener, he asked follow up questions to learn more, he had an interest in what she had to say and the stories she shared.

But there was no spark.

Even though he made her laugh, even though he made her feel comfortable, even though he truly seemed to care to get to know her, Red didn’t feel that overwhelming urge to see him again.

She wanted to like him, but this wasn’t something she could force. This also wasn’t something she was going to continue on the off chance she’d feel something down the road nor was it fair to be with him solely because of his name and status.

Which is why, at the end of their evening, which was a delightful evening, Red turned down the invitation to go home with him. They stood outside the doors of the restaurant, the sun had set at this point and she used the light coming from the street lamps and nearby establishments to make out the solemn expression Pierre wore.

He wasn’t offended that she had said no, that she would rather go back to her hotel room alone instead of spending the night with him. He also didn’t try to pressure her into changing her answer, only told her that he was still going to walk her back to the Four Seasons. He could take the rejection, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let her walk back alone.

By the time they made it to the front foyer of the hotel, Pierre reached for her hand to keep her from going through the double doors. His eyes searched her face, trying to find the answer to what had happened this evening.

“Did I do something?” Pierre asked her.

She let out a breath of a laugh, “No, Pierre, you were a total gentleman all night.”

“Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

“So would it be wildly inappropriate if I asked you out on a second date?” His mischievous grin made a return.

Red knew she should have said no. If she didn’t feel a deep enough connection with him after sharing a table for two hours, and splitting a dessert, there was a strong chance she wouldn’t feel anything after the second date either.

But saying ‘no’ was something she struggled with. Even just turning down his offer to go home with him gave her a wave of anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to get on someone's bad side and that included Pierre even if she never planned on seeing him again.

Except there was something about his piercing blue eyes and bright features that made it challenging to turn down twice. Was she a pushover? Maybe, but that was a conversation she chose not to have with herself right now. Instead, she forced herself to look at in a way that painted Pierre as persistent instead of herself as spineless.

“Okay,” she said. “One more date,” as if she was giving the ultimatum here when the reality was, Red would much rather see someone else happy even if it meant putting herself in an uncomfortable position.

She told herself that it really would be one more date, but she didn’t expect that it would grow consistently harder to keep saying no to Pierre.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek to end the night after they exchanged numbers. Pierre assured her he’d call before the weekend ended, or if they were lucky they would run into each other in the paddock again. It was unlikely, but certainly possible.

Red didn’t know how to feel by the time she walked inside the hotel. The idea of having another glass of wine popped in her head, but she typically wasn’t someone who drank to relax and now would just be a horrible time to start.

She glanced towards the bar, not surprised to see it had died down since she had stepped in earlier. But she was surprised to see that there was one man who seemingly hadn’t moved an inch, still sitting at the bar at the same spot as hours prior.

Maybe it was the few glasses of wine she did have, but the confidence she was lacking earlier made a shocking appearance and she found herself walking towards a one Charles Leclerc. He didn’t notice her, not until she sat down on the empty stool next to him. At that point, she was impossible to not notice.

Charles looked up, both of them wearing smiles. While hers was more smug, his was reminiscent of a young childs’ who had just been caught eating cookies before dinner and tried to play it off innocently.

“Don’t tell me you got stood up?” She teased, thinking about earlier when he was the one who assured her that her date was nearby.

“No, no, he left only minutes ago actually, I was just-” he looked at his nearly empty whisky glass, “-just finishing up my drink and I’ll head out.”

“Who?” Red asked, as if she had any idea the type of friends Charles had. The only reason she asked was because the leather seat she was on was cold against the back of her legs and that wouldn’t be the case if someone was just sitting here. Nor were there any water marks or signs that a second glass had been placed on the bar top.

The likelihood of Charles sitting alone at a bar for a few hours was low, but she was still curious about what he got up to tonight.

“A friend from my karting days,” Charles answered, folding his arms over the surface of the bar as his eyes met hers again. “He lives in Milan, so we try to meet up when I’m here.”

Red’s eyebrows furrowed together as she gestured with her chin to the lobby of the hotel, “Earlier you said he was staying here.”

“He is!” Charles exclaimed. “Sorry, I meant he lives in Italy. He’s staying at this hotel this weekend.”

She wanted to believe him, this would be a strange thing to lie about.

But Red reminded herself that she and Charles were still strangers. If he was in fact lying about meeting a friend and was instead on a date with someone, which was her guess, it would be unlikely he would jump at the chance to tell her, probably wanting to keep the potential relationship private as most of his life was in the public eye.

“How was your date?” Charles asked, spinning the conversation around on her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way her jaw tensed before her gaze landed on the row of bottles that lined the shelf behind the bar. Eye contact was not her thing.

“Yeah, it was good,” Red told him, knowing that he was friends with Pierre. Nothing she said was safe, or at least that’s what she assumed.

“Just good?” Charles further questioned, spinning the glass between his fingers.

“Pierre’s nice,” Red added with a head nod, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that as opposed to telling Charles what he already knew. “I had a fun time, we’ll see how the second date goes I guess.”

“Second date?” he repeated, not intending for the surprise to be so evident in his tone. He cleared his throat, “He already lined up a second date?”

Red nodded, her line of sight darted from the bar to the gold rings she wore on her fingers, spinning the one on her thumb out of habit. She struggled sitting still, Charles realised. In the back of his head he wondered if Pierre had noticed it too.

Charles leaned in closer to her, “This may not be my place to say anything, but you don’t seem to be too pleased about a second date.”

Was it that obvious? Red planted a smile on her face and looked up from her hands, ignoring the way Charles was staring through her like he was trying to read her mind.

“I’m just tired, is all. I haven’t really let myself think about the next date yet,” that was believable, she told herself. It had to be.

Charles turned his wrist to look at the time on his watch and nodded. He then gestured towards the hotel, “I’m about to head out too, but I can walk you to the elevator, if you’d like.”

Red nodded, finding his offer to be harmless enough. Charles finished the rest of his drink before tossing a few bills on the counter and thanking the bartender with a wave and a smile.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as they crossed the floor to leave the restaurant and enter the lobby. It wasn’t quiet, but it was certainly more lively during the day as there were a handful of team members from all series’ who stayed at this hotel.

“So you’ll be at the paddock all weekend?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, I’ll fly home Sunday though. I’m not staying for the F1 race.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t get passes for it. I only have them for the support races.” she turned her head towards him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

The hotel lobby light was not ideal for anyone, but it made Red’s features much more prominent, whether she liked it or not. Charles didn’t know whether to look at her bold lashes or the freckles that couldn’t be covered with makeup or the way the corner of her lips turning upwards contrasted with the uncertainty in her eyes. Her smile was polite, it was warm, but it was also forced.

Charles was nearly about to offer her a pass to the paddock, lord knew he had a few of them lying around, perks of being a driver. But before he could say anything, the step up towards the elevators snuck up on them and Red stumbled to catch her balance as her heel caught on the platform.

He reached for her arm and his other hand hovered in front of her, ready to assist if needed but Red laughed it off and apologised, swearing that she usually wasn’t this clumsy, it was the heels.

His grip on her arm loosened and he trailed his fingers down to her wrist and then to her palm. Red’s hand gently rested on top of his as he helped her step up onto the platform. Charles’ pressed the elevator button for her and both of their arms fell back down to their sides.

He waited until the doors opened to wish her a goodnight. The idea of inviting her to the paddock on Sunday slipped his mind as he was now only thinking about what it would take to feel her hand in his again.

Red waved at the Monegasque driver, holding his stare until the steel doors shut between them. Only then did she feel safe enough to take a breath and lean against the wall, her gaze dropping to the hand that Charles held for only a moment.

She didn’t feel a spark with Pierre.

But Charles’ touch lit a fire under her skin.

can't wait to hear your thoughts ♡

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x oc #pierre gasly #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly x oc #f1 #f1 fic #pierre gasly fanfic #original character #holllandtrash #charles and pierre #cl16 #pg10 #skys on fire

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charlewiss · 2 years

Text

f1 drivers as taylor swift lyrics (1/?)

#charles leclerc #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #cl16 #pierre gasly #pg10 #ferrari #scuderia alphatauri #taylor swift references #evermore lyrics bot #piarles #charles + pierre #f1 drivers x taylor swift

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years

Note

Hey lovely!! Congratulations on your 500 followers!! I'm new to F1 but I've read all your fics and they're *chef's kiss* mwah 👌🏻👨🏻‍🍳

Could I request #25 and #36 from the smut prompt list with Charles please?? 🥰💕

i hope u don't mind.... but i turned this into a charles + pierre threesome bc of prompt 25. sorry for the wait bb

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

warnings: MINORS DNI. threesome (mmf), vaginal sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), spanking

you didn't know how you find yourself in this predicament, pressed up against the bathroom door in charles' hotel room. his lips are everywhere, wet and firm against your skin. hands are not shy, gripping and grabbing at your tits and ass. a moan bubbles from your throat at the contact.

“tell me how you like it.” charles demands between kisses, fingers fumbling with the hem of your dress. he makes quick work of pulling it over your thighs and hips. "how you want it, cherie."

his lips are on your neck, sucking and licking as he awaits your response. his hands grips your bare ass tightly. "god charles. please, anything you want please."

and that's how you end up on you hands and knees, charles pounding into you relentlessly. your ass cheeks are sore, probably red from how hard's smacked it. the sound of your moans and his balls slapping against you are obscene, downright pornographic. charles' hands grip your shoulders, pulling you against his chest as he continues to fuck you.

in the heat of it all, neither of you register the knock on the door connecting charles and pierre's room. you don't hear the soft taps, desperation for the both of you to keep it down. neither of you hear the knob jiggle or the door opening because pierre accidentally rested his full body weight on it.

"désolé." pierre stammers. the sound of his voice pulls the two of you out of your lustful bliss.

you moan softly at the feeling of charles' stiff unmoving cock inside of you. his grips on your biceps are tight, holding you still and upright, completely bare to pierre. your mind is hazy, too distracted by the pleasure you're feeling to give a shit.

"come join us."

your words catch both men off guard. charles looks over at his best friend, who is still standing by the door completely dumbstruck.

"are you sure?" charles mumbles, lips right by your ear.

you nod, circling your hips ever so slightly. you don't see the smirk on charles' face. he places a hand on the back of your head, roughly pushing your head down on the bed. he begins to move roughly, hips snapping against your backside.

“watch me until i say you can join in,” charles purrs, giving your ass another smack. "watch how i fuck her, and listen to how good i make her feel."

pierre is obedient, walking over to stand at the foot of the bed. he doesn't attempt to touch you, he just stands and watches his best friend fuck you. you stare up at him through your lashes, eyes trailing down his torso to his obvious hard-on in his black boxers.

"wanna touch him cherie? go on, show him how good you are."

you push your self up, holding your weight on one hand while the other tugs his boxers down. pierre's cock springs free, red and dripping with precum. you dont hesitate to pull his dick into your mouth, head bobbing up and down. you can feel pierre's hands in your hair, fingers trailing along your shoulder blades.

"so good." the frenchman praises.

you hum around his cock, jaw falling slack as you take more of him into your mouth. charles fucking you pushes and pulls you on pierre's dick for a few moments before pierre is gripping your hair and fucking your mouth. you feel the bubble growing in the pit of your stomach, begging to burst. charles can feel the way your pussy is clenching around him, and he groans loudly. his fingers are on your clit, rubbing shapes and letters until you're seeing stars. you've never had an orgasm hit you so hard. between charles fucking you, his fingers against your nerves, and pierre's cock down your throat, your mind is foggy and overdriven with pleasure.

pierre pulls back, thumb swiping against your lips and chin to collect the drool. "such a good girl."

your eyes are glossed over in pleasure, a moan slipping out of you as charles pulls out from behind you.

"think you can fuck her better than i did?" charles challenges.

"can you take one more, amour?" pierre asks, leaning down to get down to your eye level.

charles lips are on your shoulder, soft and gentle, as his hand kneads your ass. you nod up at pierre, and he smirks.

you were in for a long night.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

#lightsoutsainz 500 sleepover #this sleepover is closed #charles leclerc #pierre gasly #charles leclerc x you #pierre gasly x you #charles leclerc blurb #pierre gasly blurb #charles leclerc smut #pierre gasly smut #cl16 drabble #pg10 drabble

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royalskarsgard · 2 months

Text

REQUESTS OPEN:

I am currently obsessed with F1 and many drivers and dabbling in writing for them. If you want something written please send it in!! This blog needs to be revived and I’m dying to write. Pretty much no restrictions!

Drivers

Charles Leclerc

Lando Norris

Carlos Sainz

Max Verstappen

Pierre Gasly

More to come!!!

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #pierre gasly x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #cl16 x reader #cs55 x reader #ln4 x reader #mv1 x reader #pg10 x reader #charles leclerc #lando norris #carlos sainz imagine #f1 preference

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vamossainz55 · 1 year

Text

The 12 Days of FicMas by VamosSainz55

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Hi everybody! I am happy to say that this Christmas I will be posting the 12 days of FicMas. I have had this idea for a while now and I am excited to finally share it.

To celebrate and get everybody in the Christmas spirit (and as an official thank you for 500 followers <3), I have decided to throw a mini FicMas Fest this December.

Inspired by the 12 Days of Christmas, I will be writing 12 drabbles/one-shots based off of 12 Christmas songs.

*delayed*

They will be released every other day starting from the 2nd of December up until the 24th of December (christmas eve). The song line-up will be revealed as we go, along with the driver pairing.

There will be a mix of fluff, angst, smut, christmas cliches, so there is enough variety for everybody.

Drivers that will be included: Carlos Sainz Jr., Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, Daniel Ricciardo & Mick Schumacher

I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed coming up with this.

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated to spread the word around <3.

Merry (early) Christmas! <3

playing next: Day 1 of FicMas - santa tell me by ariana grande release date: 2nd December @ 18:00 GMT soon

next ->

want to be added to my taglist? let me know below! <3 (if you are in my f1 taglist you will be tagged by default)

ps. special shoutout to @lightsoutsainz for being an angel and talking through this idea with me <3.

f1 taglist: @sgkophie @troybolton-14 @panicforspec @storysf1ferrari @cosmicleclerc @writing-about-current-obsessions @thesurielships @micksmidnights

#12 days of ficmas #vamossainz55 #vamossainz55 day 0 #carlos sainz x reader #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #mick schumacher x reader #cs55 #pg10 #dr3 #cl16 #ms47 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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maplesyrupsainz · 5 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙i told my friends u were the one | 2023 grid˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pt2

pairing: 2023 f1 grid x nepo baby y/n prost reader (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: nepo baby spoiled girl :) this is part 2!!!

summary: in which everyone's favourite nepo baby has to share her time between all the f1 garages

a/n: second part:)) any guesses on who she could be dating💌

request!!!!: I would love a smau with reader who’s a nepo baby but is everyone’s fave nepo because she’s just living life aesthetically and the grid loves her and she’s hinting at a soft launch (idrc with which driver)

my masterlist

part 1 • part 2 • part 3 •

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, carlossainz55, and 683,193 others

yourusername i guess the race season started

view all 8,193 comments

user1 this post screams my bf is f1 driver lance stroll

carlossainz55 ferrari garage missed you this weekend

yourusername i was preoccupied 😔

lance_stroll better luck next time

landonorris not fair y/n ur supposed to share ur time between all of us

yourusername i'll do better next week i promise

charles_leclerc you better

user2 got so many conflicting feelings

user3 ikr so many mixed messages likee

user4 as a y/n lover this race season is gonna be so fun

yourbff

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 19,283 others

yourbff life following my best friend around the world

view all 4,183 comments

user5 IS THAT LANCE AND Y/N

user6 URMMM

user7 well

yourusername i love u so much im soo lucky 🍀

yourbff i love u

user8 i feel changed by this post

landonorris are u avoiding me y/bff/n

user9 he's always in everyone's business for no reason

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 702,928 others

landonorris slay

tagged: yourusername

view all 4,183 comments

user14 the caption

yourusername slayyy 🧡

danielricciardo of course ur behind all of the slaying

yourusername what's ur problem

oscarpiastri you slayed lando!

user15 why is everyone saying slay😭😭

user16 yet another spanner in the works

user17 LOL didnt lando confirm that they're just friends

charles_leclerc y/n orange doesnt suit you

yourusername will keep that in mind thanks

landonorris shutup charles

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 291,283 others

landonorris get over it

oscarpiastri you can ignore him & talk to me 😊

mclaren he's in trouble for this

yourusername oops

scuderiaferrari this would never happen at our garage

yourusername thank u ferrari ❤️

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 849,293 others

yourusername on race days we wear red ❤️‍🔥

view all 13,293 comments

user18 why is the most exciting part of race weekend seeing what teams garage y/n picks to hang out at

user19 no fr why is it so funny

scuderiaferrari and the crowd goes wild!

charles_leclerc looks much better ❤️

yourusername thanks i feel honoured fr

oscarpiastri anti slay😕

landonorris 😔😔

yourusername you had your chance !!

user20 not y/n bringing slay into the grid vocabulary

pierregasly we wanna join the competition y/n

yourusername of course you can contact my secretary and we'll be in touch 😊

lance_stroll im her secretary

yourusername no you arent

yourusername posted a story

liked by lance_stroll, pierregasly, and 362,193 others

landonorris hard launch when

user21 WHO IS HEEE

user22 whoever he is is the luckiest man alive i fear

user23 i wont rest until we get a hard launch

user24 could it be a ferrari driver considering she was there today😭😭

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 793,193 others

yourusername alpine was the most fun so far because it has kika

view all 5,283 comments

francisca.cgomes had the best time giggling with you.. come back soon

yourusername i'll be back as long as you are there😻

pierregasly okay? that's my gf can you relax

yourusername shut up pooerre

user25 POOERRE😭😭😭

estebanocon i love y/n!

yourusername i love estie bestie!

estebanocon 🤔

user26 im so obsessed with y/n being all over the grid every race weekend

user27 i love her so bad

user28 y/n prost u will always be famous

lance_stroll come back i miss you

yourusername aww you sweet sweet boy

user29 wait.. i love them

lance_stroll posted a story

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 548,023 others

user30 URM HELLOOO Y/N

alex_albon FREE HER

lilymhe we want her

maxverstappen1 you are hogging her

lance_stroll you snooze you lose

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, and 892,193 others

yourusername & here's to my real friends!!!!

view all 18,345 comments

landonorris ?? what the hell y/n

yourusername the last pic is me when the weekend ends & i have to leave williams garage

lilymhe you r so obsessed with us not even a pic of urself on this one

yourusername i would just distract from the pure slay vibes

logansargeant 💀 stop saying slay

yourusername no.

user34 lol y/n loves williams so much

user35 & when williams merch sales increase because of this post then what?

liked by yourusername and williamsracing

williamsracing we love you y/n! keep slaying

alex_albon not you too 💀

yourusername 😊😊😊

maxverstappen1 the order you have chosen to visit each team garage in is alarming

yourusername aww is maxie angy coz he wins everything but bitches??😕

danielricciardo HAHAHA

maxverstappen1 nevermind you are no longer welcome at red bull

user36 💀 poor max getting bullied

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, redbullracing, and 972,191 others

yourusername i remember this garage being much more fun when daniel ricciardo was around ...

view all 26,283 comments

user37 is she allowed to say that...

user38 one thing about y/n is she will always say whatever she wants

maxverstappen1 i respect the honest review i will do better next time

yourusername aww dont worry max emilian i had the best weekend 😊

kellypiquet ❤️❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

danielricciardo i just laughed out loud at this

danielricciardo this is such an unprovoked comment

yourusername omg yay it worked i got your attention

danielricciardo you need therapy

landonorris i've been saying this!

user39 daniel ricciardo stans rise

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, lilymhe, and 842,194 others

yourusername u were my daisy 🌼

view all 8,183 comments

user40 omg she's insanely beautiful

lilymhe please y/n give me one chance

yourusername one? i got a million for you

alex_albon ?

lilymhe why are you trying to ruin a special moment between two girls

charles_leclerc wow

danielricciardo wya y/n?

yourusername ur mum's house

landonorris are you from tennessee

yourusername dont you say another word

oscarpiastri slay 🧡

user41 🤔

yourbff how has ur side profile sent half the grid running away blushing

lance_stroll it's not just the side profile i fear

yourusername female gaze vs male gaze..

yourbff omg im living in hell

THE END 🤍

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