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#pierre gasly imagines
love-belle · 6 months
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i want sweet revenge and i want him again !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them ignoring their feelings and making the worst decisions.
or
for when they will always be your summer love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader
sequel - you were my summer love ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - posting this at 3am bc i have midterms from monday and it's very unlikely i'll post again this month 💔💔💔💔 i love u all so much thank u for reading <3
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liked by gracieabrams, charles_leclerc, conangray and 789,725 others
yourusername "get him back!" is finally out!!!! i wrote this song in my car after breaking down over the consequences of my own actions and getting yelled at by my twitter girlies <3 summer was fun i had fun we all had fun but the aftermath is not pretty so fuck them boys u all stay happy and thriving hydrated!!!! get ur sweet revenge and get him back!!!!! but fr pls tell his mom her son sucks ❤️
8,628 comments
username there's too much going on idk what to decipher first
username the caption omg 💀💀💀
username her captions never fail to blow me away like girl 90% of these things do not belong here 😭😭😭😭😭
username not her telling us to get our man back but also tell his mom that her son sucks
-> username top tier advice idc
username THE SONG'S A FUCKING BOP OMG
username those lyrics are so her and him coded like 💔💔💔💔💔
charles_leclerc don't call me weird
-> yourusername this is so unprovoked get out
-> username nah what the fuck is charles doing here 😭😭😭😭
-> username CHARLES????
username "bc everyone knew the guy was missing a screw" BABE LET HIM GO!!!!!!!!
username THE TEXT OH MY GOD
username i miss her and that dude ngl
-> username no bc they were so cute together 💔💔💔
-> username why do men ruin everything 😐😐😐😐😐
username "i can fix him" GIRL YOU ARE WORSE THAN HIM
-> yourusername UNCALLED FOR
username i fucking love her and her fans so much like the way we're all js best friends with her and she's sooooo in touch with her fans ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
-> yourusername not true u all js bully me
-> username bc u make stupid decisions
-> yourusername ://
username y/n having beef with 80% of her fans will never not be funny to me like wdym ur FANS bully u
-> yourusername i have proof and im not afraid to use it
-> username "proof" and it's literally just her being a dumbass and us having NORMAL reactions to it
-> yourusername FURTHER PROOF UR HONOUR
username so MUCH for summer LOVE and saying US cause u weren't mine to LOSEEEE
username this is sooo 2000s romcom coded idc
landonorris WEIRD??? ME???
-> yourusername GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS SECTION THIS ISN'T ABT Y'ALL
-> username what the fuck is doing on
-> username im so out of loop wtfff
username "i want sweet revenge and i want him again" unhinged behaviour fr
username every time we think she's healing she comes back and writes a song that's basically a BIG cry for help like girl pls we're getting tired 💔
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liked by pierregasly, formulaone44, lec1ercc and 79,728 others
paddock.club rumours have been swirling around pierre gasly and his anonymous girlfriend, who's affectionately called 'augustine' by his fans, and their alleged break-up for weeks now. the said rumours were confirmed as gasly was seen out in monaco and he certainly wasn't alone — or with just one consistent company. "this may confuse some people but they were very different from each other," sources close to the couple claimed. "after summer break ended, it felt like so did whatever they had going on." this comes as a shock as despite knowing almost nothing about augustine, fans adored her and they're devasted about the end of their summer love. click on the link in our bio for everything that we know about their relationship.
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pierregasly you're trippin'
9,638 comments
username NAH THE AUDACITY OF M*N SOMETIMES
username BROTHER IM STILL RECOVERING FROM THE AUGUSTINE REVEAL SLOW DOWN
username HELLO???????? HE'S SEEING SOMEONE???????
-> username "he said i was the only girl but that js wasn't the truth"
username the fact that he used HER lyrics for his caption like..........im SICK rn
username when 😭 i 😭 told 😭 him 😭 how 😭 he 😭 hurt 😭 me 😭 he 😭 told 😭 me 😭 i 😭 was 😭 trippin 😭
username im actually in shock rn like my jaw is on the FLOOR
landonorris caption 😬
username no bc im here thinking like she called his friends weird 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 that's why charles and lando were so offended in the comments 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username boy she's over there listening to summer love by one direction WHAT R U DOING
username that's not y/n in the last slide and im throwing up rn i need them BACK
username need this all to be a nightmare bc i cannot fucking do this anymore 💔💔💔💔
username it's on SIGHT when i see u on streets
username im so 💔💔💔💔💔
username y'all i feel bad for bullying y/n bc if i were her i too wouldn't move on from this man
-> username fr like we gave her sm shit for being in love with him and im like "girlypop same omg"
-> username real like i see what she saw
charles_leclerc nice choice for caption 👍 very strong words 👍
username here for charles and lando calling him out for the caption like yasss kings ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ do ur work ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username y/n needs to be more cunty rn bc this is so wtf
username L caption 🤣🤣🤣🤣🫵🫵🫵🫵
username im gonna miss their summer love era so much like we were FED ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username "and when he said something wrong he'd just fly me to france" WOW OKAYYYY
username something about his last post before this being all about augustine and their summer and now this one is basically shading her like 💔💔💔💔💔
username everyday we stray further away from good
username ripping my hair out why cant bitches be happy ffs
2K notes · View notes
heliads · 1 year
Text
You Agreed to This
Pierre Gasly has a reputation for flirting with anything that breathes. You have a reputation for being scarily focused on racing. When Charles, Lando, and Esteban get it into their heads to dare Pierre to get you to fall in love with him, the results can only be tragic.
a/n: i was frustrated when i couldn't find fics with this vague plotline like two months ago and then i remembered that i can simply make them myself. anyway this is my longest fic to date (6k+ words), enjoy!
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The whole affair started in the recesses of the Alpine motorhome, too far from prying eyes and chances to stop before it got bad. Miami is boiling hot as per usual, it gets to Pierre just like it always does. He’s trying to fend off the heat by hiding somewhere deep within his team’s complex, team jacket stripped off somewhere on a nearby sofa and fans cranked on high. 
It was just Pierre at the beginning, but drivers tend to flock together in times of heat related stress, and now there are four of them sprawled across floors and furniture in an attempt to alleviate their suffering. Charles found Pierre first, just like he usually does, then Lando followed after media duties were over, and Esteban was last, claiming that if this many rival drivers were there he had a right to die in his own motorhome too, god damn it.
Pierre has mixed thoughts on that. He has mixed thoughts on quite a lot, actually– the blistering temperatures are getting to him, swirling memories into fact into fiction. He’ll get his head in order when it comes time to race, but that won’t happen until tomorrow, once qualis are in order and they’ve all been shunted around for the grid lineup.
Across the room, Lando groans from the shadows of a functionally decorated armchair. “This is miserable.”
Pierre gives him a look. “Your complaining is miserable.” 
Undeterred, Lando keeps up his protests. “We should do something fun. Pierre, don’t you know like a thousand people here? Invite someone over.”
Pierre snorts. “I don’t know all of Miami, Lando. Go to sleep or something.”
Esteban chuckles. “Could have fooled me. Didn’t you tag, like, a hundred people in your latest Instagram story?”
Pierre turns his head to glare at his teammate. They’re still supposed to be friends as of three or so months of being racing partners, but apparently that association doesn’t go so far as requiring Esteban to defend him. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
Charles shakes his head, grinning. “It’s the truth, let him speak. You have connections.”
Lando flings a dramatic arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight pouring in through the windows. They’ve all been shut with the blinds pulled down, of course, but some warmth has a way of coming in regardless of what anyone wants. “Pierre’s just sociable like that. He could win over anybody. Or flirt with anybody.”
Pierre rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Norris.”
Charles arches a brow. “What would he be jealous of, your losing streak? I saw you strike out trying to talk up Margot Robbie last time we were in Monaco, don’t lie to me.”
“That was different,” Pierre protests, “she’se literally married, what did you expect?”
Charles coughs pointedly. “Yet you flirted with her anyway. Anyways, don’t argue. You can’t flirt with everybody. Not successfully, at least.”
Pierre leans forward cautiously. “What does that mean?”
Charles laughs. “There’s one person you could never charm in a thousand years.”
Pierre sighs, answers Charles’ unspoken question in time with his friend. “Y/N L/N?”
“Y/N L/N,” Charles confirms, and the other three drivers break into identical grins.
Pierre can accept defeat on that front. Y/N L/N is the only female driver on the grid at the moment, and anyone can tell why she made it despite the odds mere moments after meeting her. She’s crazy intense, more dedicated to racing than even Max or Lewis. Pierre wouldn’t be surprised if she could win a driver’s championship in the next year or two. Talk to her once and you’ll be stunned that she hasn’t done it yet.
Every time Pierre, or any other driver or spectator for that matter, has tried to chat her up, they always end up shut down faster than you can spin out on a slick track with the wrong tires. She doesn’t have time for any of them. The girl lives and breathes and dies for racing, she’s not going to let something like a boy get in her way.
This only makes Pierre more tempted to keep up with her, of course, but he learned a long time ago that was a lost cause. The only reason Y/N would ever look twice at him is if he was a place ahead of her during a race, and given her knack for overtakes, that doesn’t happen all that often.
Lando sits forward, and Pierre decides that he doesn’t like the gleam in the younger boy’s eyes. “Say, I’ve got a great idea to stave off boredom. Pierre, go date Y/N.”
Pierre almost chokes. “Are you insane? Just like that, go date her? How would that help you in any way?”
Lando spreads his hands. “If it would be so easy for you to flirt with anybody, how about you prove it? Surely Y/N isn’t so far out of your league. You’re both in the same line of work, at least you’ve got that going for you.”
Pierre opens his mouth to fight this. He may have a bit of a cocky streak, sure, but he’s a driver, who amongst them doesn’t? Just as he starts to get himself out of this, though, Esteban speaks up instead.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Pierre couldn’t even come close. None of us can.” Esteban says it like a fact, and that’s all it takes for Pierre to change his tune.
“You know what?” He says, feeling his adrenaline start to kick in, “Sure I can.”
Charles’ eyes widen. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious about girls,” Pierre says, causing a ripple of groans to cascade around the room, “This time I am, at least. I’ll win her over, no problem.”
Lando sits up. “If you’re really doing this, we’ve got to set some rules.”
“Such as?” Pierre dares him to continue.
Charles taps a thoughtful hand on his leg. “It has to be more than a one time thing. Just a single conversation could be a fluke or her feeling bad for you.”
Outraged, Pierre starts to fight that, but Lando picks up the thread of the conversation before he can cut it short. “That makes sense. We have to be sure that she’s actually in love with you. Like, get her to kiss you or something? And pics or it didn’t happen. We need proof.”
Pierre snickers, trying not to feel like control is slipping out of his hands with each passing second. “Anything else? Want me to name our firstborn child after you?”
That makes Esteban crack up. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think? We’ll settle for being named godfather. All three of us collectively.”
Pierre shakes his head incredulously. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Charles slaps him on the back. “You have to believe in yourself, Pierre. If you don’t, she’ll never fall for it.”
And so Pierre Gasly gets himself stuck in the con of a lifetime. Is it going to work? The odds are abysmal. Will he make it, though? Well, Pierre never likes to back down from a challenge. He’s not going to let this one get away from him so easily.
The sun is bright and the morning is tense in the paddock. You arrived early, earlier than most of the drivers, all so you could get a taste of what the track was like without anyone breathing down your neck. Some would call you a little too eager, others would say you’re plain stressed out and nothing more to it.
You’d give yourself a little more credit than that, though. You know exactly who you are and what you have to prove. The more time you give yourself to plan and acclimate, the less time there is for mistakes.
That isn’t to say that you ignore all the comments on your pre-race habits. You are well aware of your reputation, even proud of it. You wear it as a second skin, a racing suit, a livery specially designed to flaunt your own achievement. The whispers of those out and about in the world of motorsport follow you wherever you go, dogging your footsteps until you half expect to leave streams of words behind you instead of burned rubber.
That’s Y/N L/N. The one who only cares about the track? The one who lives and dies for racing? That’s the one. That’s the one.
There’s not much else to it. So what if you tend to be a little more intense than most? Being serious is the only method of survival available to you. You can be sweet and fun, play yourself off as the ditzy girl who only got in so her team could capitalize on brand deals, or you can be a woman without a feminine bone in her body, so far from girlish she chokes whenever she sees the color pink. Both are awful alternatives, so you choose the only one you can:  ignore every box they try to push you in until everyone else gives up. Let them whisper. At least they aren’t trying to change you anymore.
That’s how you’ve navigated the paddock up until now, the entirety of racing life as you know it. It’s worked out in your favor, or so you’d say, at least. You push yourself on and off track. You answer the unfair questions they throw at you. You solve the mysteries of why someone is taking an involvement in your affairs and come out on top of any possible rumors.
There are mysteries, though, and then there’s the latest one, which is why on Earth Pierre Gasly has taken to following you around the paddock. They all did, at the start; the drivers, the fans, the interviewers, even the team bosses, all staring at you like you were in a circus exhibition. A girl in motorsport? Couldn’t be. Yet it is. 
That’s mostly drifted off, though, the attention gone once they realized you weren’t interested in belonging to any of them. Most of them did it unintentionally, of course, and the few who got too close on purpose quickly learned they would get nothing from you. Pierre learned that himself, or so you thought. That doesn’t stop his attention from surging up again all of a sudden.
It’s been a solid few weeks of this behavior, and you’re still no closer to understanding it than you were at the start. If you were to put an initial date on this whole affair, you’d maybe say everything began back in Miami. All of a sudden, Pierre, who up until now had accepted that you weren’t interested in him even if he didn’t like that all too much, had decided to renew his affections once more. 
Where you had been content to walk briskly through the paddock by yourself, Pierre is suddenly a few feet behind you, always ready to offer a bottle of water when you need it or issue a joking comment when you seem in need of a laugh. He’s playing his cards carefully, always disappearing the moment you start to take his presence for granted, but why, you cannot tell. Everyone here has a motive. Surely Pierre Gasly has one as well.
You weren’t willing to trust him at first, ignoring him throughout the Miami race and all sessions at Imola. The only angle worth your while is your own, and maybe your constructor’s, too. Still, he stayed. That has to count for something.
And, when the end of a race finds you absolutely desolate after an engine failure, that starts to count a little more than it would have before. This race is early enough in the year that the DNF doesn’t have to sting too much, but all you can think about is how you just gave Max, Charles, and the rest of the title competitors the leg up they need to beat you out.
It’s not a good feeling, to say the least. You find some empty corner of the paddock where you can be alone and let your emptiness consume you. That was your plan, at least, but you’ve only been able to wallow in your own misery for about ten minutes or so before someone else joins you. The only other driver to fail to complete the necessary laps:  Pierre.
Pierre may not have had engine problems like you, but that doesn’t make him any luckier. George Russell spun wide on a turn and took out Pierre before righting himself again. George got off relatively easy for a crash, only needed to swap out some tires and his front wing, but Pierre took the brunt of it and ended up in the barriers. You heard him swearing, frustrated, on the radio after the race; the commentators loved that one, even if he didn’t.
That leaves both of you in the same undesirable position. Pierre arches a brow as he takes in the sight of you:  legs pulled up to your chest where you sit slumped against the wall, expression hopeless and all ambition gone for the moment.
“Mind if I join you?” He asks, “I’m trying to hide from Sky Sports.”
You gesture vaguely at the open floor next to you. “Feel free. I'm not too thrilled about hearing from them, either.”
Pierre collapses in an untidy heap of limbs by your side, pulling at the collar of his race suit so he can unzip it down to his waist, leaving only the long sleeved shirt clinging to his skin. “At least engine failure is something you can’t control. Everyone’s been all over me trying to get me to admit that I should have seen George coming.”
You wrinkle your brow. “That wasn’t your fault. He braked late, it was obvious.”
Pierre glances over at you, clearly fighting a laugh. “Obvious, huh?”
You look away, wondering why you feel embarrassed all of a sudden. You don’t lie when it comes to racing, why bother? Thanks to the vast supplies of driver cameras and radio clips, there’s no point in glossing over what everyone knows to be true. Still, Pierre has a way of making that feel like something you should think twice about, like maybe not all of your attitudes towards drivers and their habits are things you should speak freely on. Maybe some things can be kept just to yourself. Maybe some drivers are beginning to verge beyond mere functionality as competitors.
“Everyone saw it,” you justify, “bad timing, that’s all. Not something you could control no matter how much space you gave him.”
Pierre nods solemnly. “The engine wasn’t your fault either, by the way. There was nothing you could have done to make it work again. You can’t limp through a problem like that.”
You tilt your head back, staring up at the ceiling above you. “I tried, though.”
“I know,” Pierre says. They’re only two words, but for some reason they make you feel better than any of the minutes spent listening to your engineers’ speeches on how they would fix that issue by the next race.
Judging by the slight smile on Pierre’s face, he must know that too. When the seconds stretch into minutes and you never tell Pierre to go, that smile only deepens. The conversation leaves the race eventually, and you end up talking about silly things like movies you’d like to see or places you want to go but never have. You don’t know that you’ve ever spoken to another driver like this before. You don’t know that you could with anyone else.
You have to leave that corner eventually, called away by a team principal with apologies in order. Pierre departs around the same time, claiming that he can’t run from the interviewers forever. You steal one last glance at him over your shoulder as you go, and can’t help but notice the grin on his face. It’s broader than before, proud of something; what, you can’t tell. Despite the fact that both of you have failed out of the race, you still get the feeling that Pierre has won at something more than you today. 
Charles releases an Instagram post later that day of him, Pierre, and a few other drivers out at a club. You see it, and spend too much time wondering how long you have to wait after a photo is posted to like it so it’s not weird. What you don’t see is the conversation that happened later, how Pierre triumphantly told the rest that he was closer than they’d ever believe. You don’t see it, and the next time you see him, you stop to talk with a ready smile.
So it goes the next race, and the next one, and the next. Pierre is there. So are you. You end up finding him eventually; as time goes on, it’s not just Pierre seeking you out but the other way around, too. It’s even, both of you wanting each other just as often as the other. Eventually, you have to admit defeat to the voice in the back of your head telling you that you might have misread Pierre after all. Maybe he’s not just a horrific flirt. Maybe he can be a friend.
And, leaning over the railing of Pierre’s room in the Alpine motorhome so you can feel the gentle wind on your face while you stare out at the paddock, you think you would be alright if there was something more, too. You swore to yourself you’d never even think about another driver in that way, too scared of all your efforts to distinguish yourself from everyone’s expectations for female drivers being for naught, but it might be okay if it was Pierre. Pierre is different, nothing like the rest. It would be alright if it was him.
Pierre stands by your side, back straight and posture perfect as he surveys the mess of people milling about some floors below. “Nervous for the race?”
You tilt your head to the side, considering the question. “As much as anyone, I guess. I like this track, though. Should be good.”
Pierre nods, smiling at that. “And what about me? Am I going to be good, too?”
You roll your eyes. “You don’t need me to tell you that.” 
He doesn’t; this is one of Pierre’s best tracks. He should be up for a podium or at least high in the points if everything goes according to plan.
He just grins. “Indulge me.”
You give him a pointed stare, then head back into the room. “You’re an ass.”
Pierre follows. “You love me, though.”
A pause. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He asks, unable to disguise a slight shine of surprise from entering his eyes, like despite all the luck he’d had recently, Pierre still didn’t think he would get this far.
You lift your shoulder in a half-shrug, unwilling to commit to anything further. You feel as if you’re standing on a lake frozen over, aware that any wrong move could shatter the ice beneath your feet.
Pierre moves towards the door, and for one horrified moment you think he’s actually going to leave right then and there before you realize he’s closing it instead. He turns back once he’s sure no passersby can see you, and then he’s kissing you and you can’t worry about anything else. Not even the race. Not even the threat that this might send you spiraling until you’re so lost on him that you won’t be able to think straight for the rest of your life.
He leans back at last, smiling at you with the same smile you think you saw on a podium on Monza when he first won a race in F1. “We could have done that earlier,” he whispers, not daring to disturb the quiet victory of the room.
“We could have,” you answer him. Every driver hates losing time. This is no exception.
Your head is light with the most wonderful feeling, and then over Pierre’s shoulder you see something strange. He left the door open. Cracked halfway, even though this door is notorious for never staying open right. He would have had to try to keep it like this. He would have wanted it to be that way for a reason.
Pierre’s phone vibrates and he grimaces, murmuring something about having to talk to one of his engineers before slipping out of the room. He kisses you one last time before he leaves, a quiet touch pressed to your cheek. He takes great care to ensure that you do not see the message blinking up from his screen, and when he goes, you notice that he does not have to turn the knob, only pull open an already ajar door.
Something is wrong. The longer you stand there, alone in Pierre’s room, the more you start to think, and what you think about is not good at all. The timing of the text message. The look on his face when he left. Nothing is adding up.
Voices drift to you down the hall as you stand there wondering, Pierre’s among them. You walk slowly forward, unable to fight a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach like something is about to go very, very poorly. You usually trust your instincts. As it turns out, they won’t be wrong now.
Pierre is standing in a meeting room down the hall, talking in hushed voices to a few other drivers. As you draw closer, you recognize them. Charles, closest; Lando, eyes wide; Esteban, even, staring in disbelief. All three are telling Pierre replications of the same sentiment, which is that they cannot believe he actually managed to do it.
Get you to fall in love with him, they mean. Fulfill the dare, they explain. Like they all agreed a few months ago. Back in Miami, the three of them dared Pierre to get you to fall for him, and like the overconfident, thrill seeking diehard flirt that he is, Pierre agreed.
Worse:  he did it successfully. You know, you had been wondering if this was too good to be true. Looks like it was. All that time you were letting Pierre into your heart, and he was manipulating you into falling in love. How pathetic. How incredibly soul-destroying.
The four drivers look up when you shut the door to the meeting room behind you. Pierre is the first one to notice it’s you, and you don’t ever think you’ll forget the look on his face when he realizes that you know the truth. His entire expression contorts with horror and his hands rise by his sides, trying to force your heart to stay unbroken. Pity it’s too late for that.
“Y/N–” he begins, a little too loud, a little too desperate, “wait– it’s not what it sounds like–”
“Actually,” you say coolly, “I believe that it is. You three dared Pierre to get me to fall in love with him? That’s exactly what it is, right?”
It’s not a question. Charles, Lando, and Esteban have realized you’re here, too, and they wear similar shades of Pierre’s alarm. Charles opens his mouth to say something, perhaps to explain himself, but you cut him off.
“Don’t even try. I know what you did, I don’t want to hear your terrible reasoning for why you thought this was okay. I’m going to go back to my motorhome and we are never going to speak of this again. Don’t talk to me in the paddock. Don’t talk to me at all unless we’re in a media event and you have to. I never want to speak to any of you.”
Lando interrupts, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Y/N, don’t you think that’s a little extreme? It was just a prank, that’s all. Just a laugh.”
Pierre looks like he’s fighting back deep irritation at that. You just arch one brow. “Just a prank to humiliate me? You disgust me. All of you.”
You let that silence their arguments and leave the room. You think Pierre might have tried to follow you out, but Charles blocks him. You hear the Monegasque’s voice spilling out into the hall as you leave, telling Pierre not to try it. She obviously doesn’t want to see any of us anymore, mate. Best to leave it be.
You wish it was that easy for you. It takes everything in you to make it to your private room in your team’s motorhome and lock the door behind you before the tears finally come flooding out. You’d like nothing more than to fly home and spend the next several days and nights comatose in your bed, but, as if things weren’t bad as is, there’s still a race tomorrow, so you won’t be able to go anywhere for at least twenty-four hours.
The lights go out, the chequered flag waves some time later. You’re not entirely aware of what happened in that race, nor of how you were able to drag yourself out of your room and back to the starting grid, but you blink once and you’re on the podium, so evidently everything worked out. You watch the clips later, the commentators are all in shock. They haven’t seen you race so aggressively in years. It bordered on cruelty.
Pierre, by contrast, had his worst race in months. It seemed like he was hardly in charge at all, more like the car was controlling him. He wasn’t even in the points. No one can understand it. You refuse to think about it any longer.
Another race weekend comes and goes. The interviewers are confused– wasn’t it just last week that you seemed so much happier than you are now? You’re surly in press conferences, answering questions in a clipped and emotionless tone. They’d say you were totally checked out were it not for the fact that you’re still getting good results.
They don’t know everything, of course, but some of the more eagle-eyed reporters are starting to put the pieces together. What’s up with you and Pierre Gasly? Someone asks one day, Weren’t you two good friends recently?
We’re drivers, you reply, Aren’t we all used to pretending things are better than they are?
When you see Pierre after that press conference, he looks dizzy, totally unsteady on his own feet. You don’t meet his eyes. You’re not sure that it’s guilt, but it feels something like that anyway. Everything is wrong.
Pierre is asked about it later, of course, and he’s a little more candid than you were. He never names names, just says that things happen sometimes, things he wishes he could take back. Pierre has to take a moment to get himself together after that to answer the next question, a fantastic display of emotion. How charming of him to wear his heart on his sleeve when he’s just ripped yours out of your chest.
The pattern repeats the next few weeks. Pierre, Charles, Lando, and Esteban try to talk to you on multiple occasions, but you brush them off with nothing more than a well-placed glare and some good avoidance tactics. Even then, you should have known that your cold shoulder couldn’t last forever.
Of course it would be Charles who gets you at last– if there’s anyone on this entire damned grid who could get why you are the way you are, it would be him. Il Predestinato knows what it’s like to have the entire world expecting something of you, and he doesn’t lie easy because of it. Charles finds you late as the sun is setting and won’t let you avoid him forever, even though you try.
At last, you give up and stop making him chase you around the paddock. You’re sitting at a table outside your motorhome, shaded by a sunbleached umbrella and sipping at a bottle of ice water long since turned lukewarm.
“He regrets it, you know,” Charles says by way of introduction.
You refuse to raise your eyes from your intense study of the bottle’s printed plastic label. “He’s going to have to do a lot better than sending his best friend to talk for him, then.”
Charles scoffs. “Oh, come on. You know you haven’t let him get close enough for that.”
Your water bottle receives a very irate glare. “Wonder why that would be.”
Charles sighs. “We were wrong, we all know that. It was a stupid thing to suggest and even more stupid to keep it up that long.”
You look at him at last, anger gone and replaced by mere disappointment. From the way Charles shifts in his seat opposite you, you think that might be an even worse threat for him to face. “Then why did you keep it going? If you knew it was so wrong? Pierre was committed to your prank for weeks. Why didn’t any of you call it quits?”
“He didn’t want to,” Charles admits, “not because of the dare, because he liked being around you. Did you know he was mad at us the day you caught us? He didn’t want us anywhere near that room. Told me privately it’s because he wanted the first kiss for himself, not for anything related to the dare.”
That makes you go silent. The fan whirs overhead, pushing your thoughts around in slow circles somewhere above you. “That makes no sense.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” Charles grumbles, “Happened, though. Regardless of what he thought at the start, Pierre doesn’t want to hurt you. Not anymore.”
You turn towards him. “Is that supposed to make how he felt at the start okay somehow?”
Charles shakes his head. “No, but it makes the ending better, I think.”
He’s right. You lean back against your seat, contemplative. Charles takes this as his cue to leave. He pauses once before he’s out of range, then calls something else back to you. “He’ll kill me if he finds out I told you that, by the way.”
You can’t fight a laugh. “I won’t tell a soul you’re on my side.”
He smiles at that. You’ve missed him, you realize, him and the rest. You thought distance would save you from feeling quite so badly about all of this, but it just cut you off from your best support. Charles disappears into the crowd, a bright flare of red in a multitude of shifting shades, and for the first time since that treacherous discovery, you start to wonder what it would feel like to forgive.
Pierre is in an awful state. So Esteban has told him about a thousand and one times, at least, each utterance delivered with the same derisive snort. Pierre knows he’s supposed to bounce back from this, pretend it was all just a prank, but he’s known better for months now. It might have been a prank the first day, even the first week, but not after that.
Here is the problem:  Pierre, in all his cocky eagerness to show his friends up, failed to consider that Y/N might be able to charm him as well. He might have gone a little overboard in his attempts to make her fall in love with him, perhaps even to the point where he fell in love instead. He isn’t sure when he first realized he had feelings for her, but Pierre is more than certain it was before Y/N discovered she felt the same way.
What a ruin to his reputation. Pierre hadn’t minded, though, not when they were still on speaking terms. He liked the way they could talk for hours, how Y/N’s guard slipped when she started to trust him. She had a way of smiling when she was sure no one was about to stab her in the back. Pierre misses that. He’s sure he’ll never see it again.
Unable to stand Esteban’s dismissive attitude anymore, Pierre picks himself up from where he’d been wallowing in misery on the floor of the Alpine motorhome. He doesn’t know where he’s going yet, only that it needs to be somewhere without a single soul in sight. Still, when he passes aimlessly through the halls and almost runs into another driver, he supposes he should take it as a testament to his distracted mind that he doesn’t realize it’s Y/N until they’re already standing still and staring at each other.
Too late, Pierre remembers she hates him. His eyes drop to the floor and he mumbles an apology, ready to keep moving. She told him not to speak to her anymore; Pierre can hardly fault her for that, and he won’t use his presence as a weapon if that’s the one that will cut her the deepest.
He is surprised, then, when Y/N reaches out to stop him before he can get too much farther. Pierre looks at her hand locked around his, then back up at her.
“Wait,” she says, “I want to talk to you.”
“I thought that wasn’t happening anymore,” Pierre says. It occurs to him that it probably sounds cold, but she speaks before he can try to explain what he meant.
“Things have changed,” she says.
That’s enough to convince him to stay, if not for the feeling of her fingers still on his than anything else. He doesn’t miss the way her gaze keeps flitting from him to the occasional Alpine aide walking down the halls, and to save her, Pierre jerks his head towards a door down the hall.
“There’s an empty room to the left, we can talk there.”
A brief flash of relief crosses her face, and Y/N lets Pierre lead her over to the room. He leaves the door open to give her an easy escape, but she closes it after her anyway. No onlookers. Maybe that’s for the best.
Y/N sits down in one of the chairs, legs crossed, arms folded. She may be here with him after so long, but that doesn’t stop her from throwing up all her walls, even the physical ones. It hurts to remember how easy it had been to be with her that last day. Pierre plays those moments on repeat in his head– the balcony, the breeze, the words, the kiss. He can never stop the later scene from following, how her demeanor had changed when she realized the truth. He didn’t think he could hurt one person that badly. He was wrong.
She’s still silent, so Pierre assumes it’s on him to start talking. “I’m sorry,” he begins, “I know that’s not enough, but it’s true. I was stupid. I should have told you before–”
Regret clogs up his throat and he can’t choke out a single syllable more. Y/N looks suspicious. “Before the kiss?”
“Before anything,” Pierre clarifies, “when we were talking at the beginning. I never should have let it get so far. Doesn’t mean I minded when it did,” he remarks half to himself, “but I should have done it on my own terms.”
When he dares look up at Y/N again, he swears she seems slightly more open, but that could just be his wishful thinking. “Do you mean what you said in the interview?” She asks suddenly, “Do you wish you could take it back?”
“Yes,” Pierre says in a rush, “I want a do over. I want to do it right. I would have done all of it without ever talking to Lando or Esteban or Charles first. I would have done it for me.” His voice is quiet. “I would have loved you without making it a lie.”
Y/N’s eyes are wide, but she isn’t afraid or angry. “Second chances come around more often than you’d think,” she whispers.
“Even for me?” Pierre asks.
She nods once. “Even for you.”
They’re both on the podium that day. His race engineers can’t explain why Pierre’s luck has suddenly had this tremendous turnaround. He can. She can, too. Sometimes your heart likes getting in the way if it knows you’re doing something wrong. It’s a good thing, then, that he’s finally doing something right.
She’s waiting for him once the interviews are over. They’re both exhausted, half drunk on the champagne in the air and wholly pleased with themselves. The sun goes down, and Pierre is happy. It is just as easy as that.
f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy
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paddockbunny · 9 months
Note
B + Touch + Pierre Gasly
On Deck
Summary : When your boyfriend Pierre has a little time off he whisks you away to a gorgeous hotel…then surprises you further by helping you fulfil one of your dreams. Rating : 18+ Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader Word Count : 2,800 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, discussion of sex, intimate touching female, public sex Images : curated from Pintrest
List : List B. Prompt : Touch - our muses touching one another discreetly but intimately in a public setting.
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Dating Pierre had many perks. From brands sending you free clothes to being invited to events like fashion shows and tennis matches. But your favourite perk of all was the complimentary holidays and hotel stays he was consistently offered. And while he had to turn many of them down because he was working, on the odd occasions he did accept, you were always his favourite room mate. So this unexpected trip to Sardinia in between races could most definitely be classed as a perk.
The pair of you arrived on the Tuesday to beautiful warm sunshine and every single last drop of tension melted away in both of your bodies. The oranges that lined the driveway to the stunning five star resort filled the air with a beautiful citrus aroma that you could get drunk off and you grasped your boyfriend’s hand tighter when you saw the welcome glasses of champagne awaiting you at the hotel entrance. Pierre loved watching you reactions to experiences only he had been able to give you. He got off somewhat knowing he could impress and dazzle you more than any man that had come before him. It thrilled him to see your eyes widen in awe or excitement rushing around your body at these new adventures he could provide you with. He was glad it was him making these memories with you. And you in turn always made sure to thank him, diligently, thoroughly and exactly how he liked.
For three days the pair of you spent your time rotating between sunbathing, eating and fucking. Pierre was in his element in all three and you were more than happy to do whatever it was he felt like doing just because you were happy to be with him.
On Friday, you awoke to an empty bed. Pierre’s voice was muffled outside on the balcony. You took the opportunity of being alone in the huge, comfortable hotel bed to stretch out like a cat. As your muscles pulled and twisted you felt the burn from your inner thighs. Last night’s energetic sex clearly still reverberating through your body. The smirk crept upon your lips without realising it the memory of your legs up around Pierre’s shoulders as he fucked you hard and deep. You were in your own little world when he re-entered the room and you heard his low rumbling laughter.
“What are you thinking about?” “You.” Your response was quick and his cocky eyebrow raise was met with an equally as confident smirk as your eyes travelled down his body. He was stood next to the bed clad only in his black tight boxers that left little to the imagination and your mouth practically watered thinking about him being in your mouth. You rolled on to your stomach and pulled yourself up on to your knees before crawling to close the space between you. You were still completely naked, the hotel sheets disregarded behind you, and Pierre took full advantage of his view. He didn’t hide the fact his eyes were roaming all over your body. He knew that you knew he enjoyed when you were so completely exposed to him. You watched him checking out your boobs first before those azure blue orbs fell lower and settled to his favourite place, between your legs. Your hands slowly caressing up his chest and around his neck was what brought him out of being transfixed. But what snapped him back into reality was you guiding his hand to where his eyes had just been. Your insinuation of morning sex couldn’t be any more obvious.
What you thought would be met with eager willingness was instead met with a frustrated sounding growl from your boyfriend. “Fuck. I want too, I really, really want too but I’ve just organised a surprise, baby.” He sighed. So that was what he was doing out on the balcony. “A surprise?” Your eyebrows met in the middle quizzically. “What kind of surprise?” He knew you weren’t a huge fan of surprises and were more of a preparer type person. You liked knowing what you were going to do, where you were going, what you were going to wear. Pierre smiled. His fingers ghosted over your delicate folds - a reminder his hand was intact exactly where you had let it too only moments before - as he slowly nodded.
“I’m not going to tell you what we’re doing. You just need a bikini.” You almost didn’t hear his words because your brain was completely distracted by the shudder that passed through you from the action of his fingers. And just because he liked to play with you, he raised his fingers to his mouth. He enclosed his mouth around them, no doubt tasting your wet slick excitement on them, and moaned deeply because he knew exactly how pent up it got you when he teased you.
“Where are we going?” You asked Pierre (threatening to go in a huff) for the fourth and final time as you got into the chauffeur driven Mercedes parked right in front of the hotel lobby. He had been tight lipped when you tried to coax his plans out of him right after he told you you needed a bikini. You tried hard to get the answer from him and even used dirty tactics by holding up two different styles in front of him - the first option was an impossibly tiny thong that l barely covered anything at all; while the second was an extreme high cut that left little to the imagination, it didn’t surprise you when he went for the first option - and when that didn’t work you pouted, lowered your chin so your eyes were as big as they got when you were about to blow him, and asked again. Nothing. The last attempt was when you got in the elevator and tried to trick him into admitting his plans but he wiggled his finger back and forth and told you; “Patience is a virtue, doll”
So there you sat in the back of the car, pretending you were cool with not knowing the plans while Pierre’s hand ran up and down your bare thigh. He pretended like he wasn’t deliberately trying to torture you by pushing the white cotton hem of your dress further up your thigh with each stroke, but you had his number. You deliberately ignored him and gazed out of the window. His grip got harder to make you look at him but you continued freezing him out.
“If you don’t look at me I’ll make the rest of this journey very uncomfortable for you.” He had leaned across the car and purred the line straight into your ear. His body press harshly against your side but you couldn’t ignore the fact his hand had slid up to cup your clothed core. Your mouth dropped open but your head rolled back and your eyes went straight to his. “Good girl.” Was amused that he got what he wanted. Proud of himself even. He sat back - his hand retreating - and playfully shook his head. He knew you were being bratty because he hadn’t told you what was going on and was smug that he still held onto his secret.
The car ride lasted only a short while. Fifteen or so minutes and you had began to twig around 20 seconds ago when the car pulled into the marina. “Did you?” It had been a bit of a dream of yours to go on a yacht one day. A proper yacht, a big one. You had been on small sail boats, catamarans, gondola’s and the motorboats they have in Lake Como but never an actual yacht. “Is this a good surprise?” He bit his bottom lip awaiting your response. It was the best surprise. You couldn’t believe he remembered you talking about going on the types of vessels you were passing by. You didn’t think he paid attention to thought all the Below Deck references you dropped whenever you were near the sea. “The best!” You exclaimed while practically leaping across the car and squishing your lips on to his. Pierre was a romantic at heart. He had an animalistic raw sexual energy sure but deep down, he was the biggest, sweetest sentimental teddy bear.
You finally pulled off your little white dress when Cassandra (your chief stew) disappeared to make the pair of you some cocktails to enjoy on the main deck aft while you sunbathed. Pierre, clad in his now signature orange swim trunks, was already laying out on the sun deck. Every toned muscle on full display. He had been watching you as you removed the practically see through white dress and toss it aside. You watched him swallow and rolled his eyes at your teeny tiny bikini - the one he himself had chosen for you to wear. “I’m going to have a semi all day now I’ve seen you in that.” He groaned into your ear when he pulled you down to join him once you took his outstretched hand. “I know you will.” You winked and playfully but your lip “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that when you chose this one. I did give you a choice.” He laughed because he knew he had stitched himself up. “At least give me something to day dream about while I sunbathe, babe.” His eyes lowered to your equally as small bikini top. He was a butt guy through and through but Pierre couldn’t resist your perfectly proportioned boobs either. You glanced quickly around making sure none of the crew would catch you (or prying eyes from another boat) and pulled down the cups of the black bikini quickly. You counted to five before covering yourself back up again and Pierre burst out laughing out of his enjoyment at your little flash.
You felt little beads of sweat form on your chest as you baked in the hot Italian sun. The salty sea air served as a delicious fan to cool your scorching skin. Your head fell to the side and you took in the visage of your unbelievable boyfriend. His skin was glistening with sweat. The scattering of hair on his chest gleamed with it like they were minuscule little crystals. His cut abs were mere fodder for the v shaped guidelines that disappeared below the stretchy band of his swim shorts. Your mouth watered. How could it not? You had been hot for him all day. From the moment you woke up with the dull ache between your thighs - and sore adductors being a reminder of how good the sex really was. You let an unsteady breath escape your throat as you continued down and drunk in the rest of him. He had one leg propped up, his muscly tanned thighs on full display, and you felt the desperation for him kick in. Swiftly you glanced around again and checked the pair of you were alone. Naughtiness consumed you. You felt possessed by your urges.
Leaning over him you kissed his lips gently. He wasn’t sleeping but hadn’t been expecting your action. Even if it was a welcome one all the same. Your body stayed where it was as your finger danced along the waistband containing what you craved. “Baby….” You purred as you kissed the spot under his ear you knew he liked “there’s no one here, they’re all below deck.” You weren’t sure if that was entirely true but you had seen enough reality tv to know they would disappear pretty quickly if they happened to stumble upon anything. Pierre lowered his sunglasses before asking; “Is my good girl feeling a little risqué?” His mother tongue delighting in the pronunciation of the last word. You nodded and you saw all of the dirty thoughts rushing around Pierre’s brain all at once. “Do you think you can stay quiet?” His hand wrapped itself around your wrist - the one resting on his lower tummy while your fingers played with his happy trail - and guided it away. It collided with the mattress of the sun deck behind you and the pressure Pierre applied made it hard for you to move. His body rolled half way on top of yours. “Well?” He asked wanting a vocal confirmation “do you think you can stay quiet?” Normally Pierre wanted to pull every single loud pant, moan, gasp and sigh from you before he made you scream so now he wanted the opposite it was overwhelmingly thrilling. “I can try.” His eyes narrowed “I promise.”
Your word was enough for him. His hand left your wrist and instead came to the valley between your boobs. His fingers trailed down with delicate lightness. You knew better than to let your eyes follow the direction of his hand. He liked eye contact above all else so you kept staring straight back at him. Your mouth opened and you fought back the sigh that was about to leave it when his fingers dipped past the black neoprene fabric that clothed you. “How long have you been this wet?” He as good as hissed at you. “Since I woke up thinking about the way you fucked me last night.” A shaky yet pleased laugh left your boyfriends own parted lips. His forefinger slipped up and down your throbbing folds and you instinctively opened your legs wider for him. He spread the product of your excitement over sensitive creases before he settled on the bundle of nerves that he was by now, best friends with. You couldn’t help but inhale deeply as he made quick work of circling your responsive bud and drawing more and more quick breaths from you. In a normal, less public, setting you would by now be heavy breathing, moaning his name and gripping hold of whatever your hand could find.
“Pierre….” You whimpered quietly, in a broken, breathy tone that was completely carnal. He stepped up the pace and your hands went to his neck, needing to hold on to something as he worked you closer and closer to your high. “You’re so beautiful when you’re this close.” His words caressed your lips before his tongue delved in. He knew you were close (he always knew) when your hips raised up off the daybed underneath you. Desperately seeking more friction, more pressure from his fingers - which of course he gave you without hesitation. “Fuck, Pierre…” the smallest of pleas left you as his mouth swallowed your words.
And then you had to remind yourself to open your eyes for him as he made you climax, hard and sudden. Your body tensed as the high aroused your soul. Shockwave after shockwave came in unrelenting waves like the ocean below the yacht. Pierre kept going, his pace only slightly slowing, to make sure you rode every last inch of the orgasm he graced you with and only when your thighs stopped shaking did he dip his fingers down to the wetness his actions had produced. You saw the pride and smugness overtake him as he felt what he had done to you.
Then without a single shred of warning his hand left your bikini bottoms and the elastic material snapped back against your skin. “Can I get you both another drink?” Cassandra’s Italian laced voice came from behind us. “We’re fine, thank you” Pierre answers for the both of you. You stayed exactly where you were, clinging to him almost, as he did so. A heat spread up upon your cheeks and you realised you were holding your breath. “She’s gone.” He said quickly before erupting into laughter
“Oh my God!” You yelped and buried your face in his neck. There was no option that to feel instantly mortified. The girl couldn’t have been older than you nor Pierre and she had innocently approached you both after you had been doing something so utterly obscene. “Did she see us? I was quiet wasn’t I?” “Shhh….Mon Amour” he kisses you gently “don’t worry, I’ll just tip them a little extra.” He winked when he pulled back and playfully you hit him on his chest for being so typically well, Pierre, about things. “I’ll tip them EVEN MORE if I can fuck you right here on the deck.” You knew he wasn’t joking but you laughed none the less. “Ok” Your words caught his attention “but first, let’s take a dip…” his reply came swiftly; “Fine, as long as it’s the skinny type”
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maryleclerc · 7 months
Text
𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 - chapter 00.1: the confession!
pairing: driver!divorce!pierre gasly x princess!reader
summary: a confession by pierre made the whole france and f1 fan goes crazy
warning: use google translate, mention of divorce, poor english
chapter 00.1/3
requests: yes
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y/n.salvatore
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y/n.salvatore Good morning to all of my lovely people have an early shoot for my upcoming product so im gonna wish you all having a real good day *kiss kiss*
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pierregasly Morning to you too sunshine!
gusgusdepierre She sound like she’s having a really good dayyy huh
⤷ y/n.salvatore Well who doesn’t haha my beauty brand are out on 20th October so I am really excited for my first baby 🤌
honeymoon.sal @y/n.salvatore, you better watch Pierre latest interview
⤷ y/n.salvatore Thank u, I’m sure I’ll check his latest interview after my shoot finish!! 🤍
octopussycat Wait so you’re saying that you still havent watch it, are you active on Twitter or anywhere else cause I am sure it’s viral now all around the world
⤷ y/n.salvatore What do you mean viral, Pierre Gasly, F1 Driver… everything he do, every move he take it’s all gone viral.. it’s not that surprise i guess haha, btw don’t worry I’ll check it as soon as possible tho!!!
pierregasly
Liked by charles_leclerc and others
pierregasly Breakfast at Gasly
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everydaywithpierre Is Y/n there too?
gaslypierreeee Love you Pierre
y/ngaslymylover @pierregasly Did you tell Y/n about your feeling for her yet?
⤷ pierregasly Will, soon
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y/n.salvatore
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y/n.salvatore Me & my bf 💅 *p/s: bf = my bestfriend *
Comments on this post are limited
charles_leclerc 😏 Bestfriend? Oh okay
⤷ y/n.salvatore Jealous?
alexalbon Aww so romantic, aww so jealous of you Princess Y/n of Pierre Gasly
⤷ y/n.salvatore Aww I didn’t F1 driver get jealous so easily 😂
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hockeyshmockey · 1 year
Text
Insta AU
Pierre Gasly x Celeb!yn
In honor of testing and the first race weekend approaching 🫶🏻
ynln posted a story
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twitter
@ynismyname im sorry did anyone see our gals new post? A YT MAN?
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@ynfan21 no bc I want to know who it is so bad like cmon
instagram
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liked by pierregasly, ynbff, charlesleclerc, and 1,203,495 others
ynln ciao milan
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user1 girl WHo
ynfan there are a lot of f1 drivers here....
f1gossip pierre and charles liked? what is going on, in the house of commons?
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likedby f1gossip, ynln, and 894,230 others
pierregasly vacations always have to involve a boat
view 9,301 comments
user jesus aiwjf
f1wags this man is always thirstin
ynfan im sorry,,,,, is that ring?!?!?!?!
ynfan2 @ynfan​ this is suspicious...
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liked by ynlnfan, f1wags and 3,102 others
f1gossip sent in! yn ln was spotted in Bahrain weirdly enough as we head into the testing weekend. there have been murmurs that she and Pierre are an item, is this another piece of evidence?
view 254 comments
f1wags we personally would love to see her around the circuit
user just saying if he fumbles the bag on this one ......
ynfan omfg
twitter
ynfan now that people suspect pierre and yn together, we can really see they suck at being discreet lol
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ynfan1 yn was on her live last night and was in a hotel room and you could clearly hear someone fumbling around in the background ....
instagram
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liked by f1gossip, yn fan and 235,039 others
kyillman @ynln keeping it casual as she grabbed some food today at the track before heading back to the alpine garage this afternoon
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f1fangurl noooo she rlly got exposed by ky im dead
f1gossip do we think this is confirmation orrrr
ynfan this is so funny, they tried so hard
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liked by f1gossip, charlesleclerc, ynfan and 1,403,291 others
ynln views in bahrain
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ynfan not her sliding in the picture of mr mans as If we would swipe past!
f1gossip so we’re confirmed
charleslecelerc still wondering what magic he had to do to pull you
--danielricciardo truly... Is it the thirst traps?
pierregasly mon amour
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hey-kae · 1 year
Text
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Ⓢ : Smut
Ⓐ : Angst
Ⓕ : Fluff
For drabbles, search the following tags: #cl16 , #pg10 , #mv1 , #ln4 (coming soon)
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Part 1: 20 Minutes to Spare Ⓢ
Part 2: A Gift from the Ferrari Gods Ⓢ
Part 3: Red Payback Ⓢ
The Story of a Failed Friendship Ⓕ Ⓐ
Already so Perfect Ⓕ
Trust Me Ⓕ
Part 1: Secrets He’ll Keep Ⓐ
Part 2: Ne Quitte Pas Ⓐ Ⓕ
Driving Lessons Ⓕ Ⓢ
Plans Change Ⓢ
Home is... Series:
Part 1: Home is Perfect Stars Ⓕ Ⓢ
Part 2: Home is a Loving Family Ⓕ
Part 3: Home is Loving You Ⓕ
Part 4: Home is where the Heart is Ⓕ Ⓢ
Off track
Newfound Jealousy Ⓢ
Part 1: A Moment in Time (Based off August by Taylor Swift) Ⓐ
Part 2: Back to me (Based off This love (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift) Ⓐ Ⓕ
Caught Ⓕ
Part 1: Communications and Confessions Ⓕ
Part 2: Changes in Communications Ⓕ
Support System Ⓕ
Part 1: Mon Champion Ⓕ
Part 2: Rounds of Celebration Ⓢ
Hate & Love Ⓐ
Every Breath you Stole Ⓐ
What if...? Ⓐ
A kiss, a Cake, a Flight, and a Heart Attack Ⓕ
Would he care? Ⓐ
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Only Yours Ⓕ
Mini You Ⓕ
Beneath the Stars Ⓕ
Princess Treatment Ⓢ
Safe & Sound Ⓐ Ⓕ
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Summer Breaks Ⓐ
Seamless Transition Ⓕ Ⓐ
Got it Through Ⓢ
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Heart-shaped Everything Ⓕ
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Post-victory Ⓢ
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evstostuff · 7 months
Note
This is nasty as hell but imagine Pierre teasing shy driver!reader all the time, and the entire grid being on a TV show, Pierre and reader having sex like 5 minutes before airing, realising she's nasty af, her being plugged up and him watching her squirm throughout the entire show knowing that no one's suspects a thing.
IM SORRY HDKFLSK HIS LATEST POST IN HIS SUIT GOT ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY
Corrupt
Paring: Female Reserve Driver Reader x Pierre Gasly
Warning: 18+, language, sex toys ish, clit stimulation, female receiving, no sex, dirty talk, French pet name.
Word count: 1,368
Note: So this request has taken me forever I am so sorry!!! I hope you like it. I have switched it up a bit but its along the lines of you request.
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“Pierre…”
“Oui mon cherie” 
“What are these?” The silver balls chimed together as you let go to dangle them in front of Pierre’s face.
His sky blue eyes widened in embarrassment.
Pierre tried to grab them as you hid them behind your back. 
“Pierre come on tell me.” You whined, dodging the drivers grabby hands.
“Y/N no it’s nothing.” His cheeks were stained with a pink flush of embarrassment.
Raising your eyebrows you chuckled.
“Fine.” Pierre rubbed his hands over his face.
“They are simulation beads, they are meant to go inside you. I wanted to suggest we use them eventually.”
You were completely engrossed in the idea of Pierre wanting to explore with you. 
Running the beads through your fingers you clenched your thighs together, the thoughts of something new enhancing the lust you already had for Pierre.
“I wanna try them.” You whispered.
Pierre watched every part of you, completely fascinated with your existence. Your relationship was very casual, a needs must basis. From his first day at Alpine meeting you as their reserve driver, he always thought you were a beautiful person but something about the innocence you radiated whilst holding such a corrupt item made Pierre want to completely destroy you. 
He wanted to watch you squirm and whimper his name.
“Fuck it.” Before you knew it the Frenchman had you pinned against the dressing room wall with his lips moulded to yours.
His fingers twisted with yours, taking the beads out of your hands.
Your body sensitive to Pierre’s touch, reacted to every brief brush from his fingertips. 
A slight nip of your bottom lip had your hips bucking into Pierre’s strong figure, begging for some relief from the pent up lust coursing through your veins.
Pierre’s hand slipped down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks roughly causing you to moan into his mouth.
“Jump Y/N.” 
You jumped with the help of Pierre’s grip on you ass and wrapped your legs round his waist. Lips still locked together,  you laced your fingers through his hair and tugged at the ends, causing delicious grunts and moans to echo from the back of Pierre’s throat. 
Pierre wondered over to the dressing table and gently placed you down. His fingers ghosting over your thighs as he slowly kissed across your jawline and down to the most sensitive spot on your neck.
“Please do something Pierre.” You moaned.
His fingers ran over your core, the slight pressure sending pleasure throughout your body.
You pushed your hips forward hinting to Pierre you wanted more.
“Oh desperate for my fingers again like the little slut you are?”
All you could do was moan at Pierre’s degrading words.
“Answer me Y/N.” Pierre’s hand wandered around your neck and gripped tightly forcing you to hold the Frenchman’s eye contact.
“I need your fingers again Pierre, please. I need you.” You begged.
A deep growl came from Pierre, clearly turned on from how needy you were for him.
Without hesitation, Pierre dipped his two fingers into your panties and circled them around your clit. 
Pleasure coursed through your body. Pierre watched as you tilted your head back in pure ecstasy as he continued to play games with you. The pace he was swirling his fingers over your clit had you almost screaming, constantly changing from slow with more pressure to quick attacks building your orgasm up left you a complete mess.
“You going to be a good girl and cum for me?” Pierre whispered in your ear.
Your pussy clenched for him as you nodded you head franticly. 
“Cum for me mon cherie.”
On command you lost every last ounce of control you had. Your body jolted as the pleasure Pierre had given you took over your whole being. 
“Good girl” Pierre cooed as he placed his hand over your moan silencing the moans of his name.
He held you as you came down from your orgasm high.
“Fuck Y/N you came hard.” Pierre groaned.
Both of you looked down at the mess you had left on the dressing table, you arousal had soaked your panties and had leaked onto the surface leaving it glistening.
The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence as you caught your breathe and composed yourself.
“Y/N do you trust me to try something?” Pierre asked whilst fiddling with the simulation beads that were left on the side.
You gulped “Yes I trust you.”
“I want you to have these inside of you whilst we do this interview.” Pierre ran the beads over your bare thighs, making you shiver.
Pierre continued to tease you with the beads. He ran them over your clothed cunt.
“Take your panties off Y/N.” Pierre demanded.
You lifted your hips and slipped the drenched cotton down your things from them to drop down the rest of your legs to the floor.
“Good girl, now move forward and spread your legs.” Pierre’s eyes flicked down to your dripping cunt.
You did as you were told, moaning as the cold air hit your core.
The beads were dragged up your thigh and between your legs. The cold metal balls ran gently through your folds, gathering all of your arousal. Your hips bucked at the strange sensation.
“Need them nice and wet.” Pierre groaned as he held the balls up to the light.
“Hmm think they need to be wetter.” The Frenchman gathered his own spit and spat it out onto the balls in his hand.
“Wetter I think, come on mon cherie spit.” Pierre moved his hand just under your chin and gave you a little nod.
You let your spit coat the balls in his hand.
“Perfect.” You watched Pierre mix all the liquids together, lubricating the balls to make sure they were ready to go inside you.
Pierre knelt down, eye level with your cunt.
“Just relax Y/N, this will make you feel so good.” Pierre cooed as he licked up your inner thigh.
Shivers ran down your spine as you felt the cold metal near your entrance. Pierre slowly inserted the toy giving you time to adjust.
“Fuck, your pussy is taking it so well.” Pierre praise made your pussy clench.
A pornagraphic moan fell from your lips at the new sensation of the beads being fully inside you.
“I’ll be keeping those.” Pierre giggled as he picked your panties up from the floor and shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans.
You didn’t even have it in you to protest as you were dazed in a cloud of continuous pleasure as every movement resulted in a new wave of pleasure running through you.
“Five minutes till we are live Pierre.” Someone knocked on the dressing room door.
“Oui, I’ll be out in a second.”
Pierre helped you off the dressing table, resting his hands on your hips as he steadied you on your feet. He grabbed you Alpine team top and denim skirt from the floor.
You quickly popped your clothes on with small gasps of pleasure as every movement caused you to clench round the foreign object inside of you causing Pierre to smirk at you.
Both you and Pierre met Esteban at the side of the stage. 
“Hey Y/N, you excited for this interview?” Esteban wrapped his arm round your shoulder and pulled you into him.
You locked eyes with Pierre’s as they darkened with jealousy. The look he gave you was fair from a typical look of jealous, it was a promise of what he was going to do to you later for being so comfortable with Esteban touching you.
You squeezed your thighs together and a moan erupted from you. Quickly you tried to cover it with a cough.
“You okay Y/N?” Esteban patted your back to help with your fake cough.
You gave him a weak smile and nodded.
“Please welcome to the stage Esteban Ocon, Pierre Gasly and Y/N Y/L/N from the BWT Alpine Formula One Team.” The crow erupted with cheers.
Pierre grabbed your wrist just before you walked out “You are not going to be able to walk tomorrow after I am done with you mon cherie.”
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justspreadmythighs · 1 year
Note
You giving Pierre a "day of yes" as his birthday present. Everything he asks for, your answer is YES.🔥🥵😏🫣
CELEBRATING PIERRE'S 27TH BIRTHDAY WITH SPECIAL BIRTHDAY DF'S 07022023
1031 words, probably contain lots of mistakes like any other fic of mine.lol enjoy
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You giggle, the second he locks himself against the side of your throat, with his teeth grazing against the rosy-kissed skin before he alleviates the inflamed spot with a single brush of his tongue, causing the gathered group of friends to go wild at the view of him finally having the opportunity of celebration with his girlfriend. It's not a frequent sight.
He's drunk - it's his birthday weekend. A night out, the first out of many since the week barely started. Your heels nevertheless don't offer you enough composure to be able to hold his swaying silhouette straight, while he's pushing all of his body weight against you, the wall behind your back offering you support when you fist the front material of his already half unbuttoned white flannel shirt, trying to pull him away. He groans like a little boy, who just lost his treat when he's looking up at you with eyes so wild and full of ardent, you have to bite the side of your cheek for laughing. 
"Hey, cute boy." you chime at him, one of your hands letting the material of his shirt lose, so you can brush the fallen locks off his sweaty forehead. His eyebrows are scrunched up together in total disbelief as he looks down at you. You notice the change in his posture, as he towers over your body, both of his forearms sneaking over the rest on both sides of your head, completely enclosing you in, safely, and away from any prying eyes. 
His chest and the depth of its breath make it push back right against yours when he leans his head closer. Your body vibrates at the sight of him like this, all wild, avid, and yours - all yours. The unique smell of him in the air around you, with the hint of alcohol he's been drinking before you showed up, makes it hard for you to contain the temptation to grab a fine bite of him, just like he's been savoring you
You giggle, the second he locks himself against the side of your throat, his teeth grazing against the rosy-kissed skin before he alleviates the inflamed spot with a single brush of his tongue, making the gathered group go wild at the view of him finally having the opportunity of celebration with his girlfriend. It's not a frequent sight.
He's drunk - it's his birthday weekend. A night out, the first out of many since the week barely started. Your heels nevertheless don't offer you enough composure to be able to hold his swaying silhouette straight, while he's pushing all of his body weight against you, the wall behind your back offering you support when you fist the front material of his already half unbuttoned white flannel shirt, trying to pull him away. He groans like a little boy, who just lost his treat when he's looking up at you with eyes so wild and full of ardent, you have to bite the side of your cheek for laughing. 
"Hey, cute boy." you chime at him, one of your hands letting the material of his shirt lose, so you can brush the fallen locks off his sweaty forehead. His eyebrows are scrunched up together in total disbelief as he looks down at you. You notice the change in his posture, as he towers over your body, both of his forearms sneaking over the rest on both sides of your head, completely enclosing you in, safely, and away from any prying eyes. 
His chest and the depth of its breath make it push back right against yours when he leans his head closer. Your body vibrates at the sight of him like this, all wild, avid, and yours - all yours. The unique smell of him in the air around you, with the hint of alcohol he's been drinking before you showed up, makes it hard for you to contain the temptation to grab a fine bite of him, just like he's been savoring you for the past hours.
"Why you're not letting me play with my food?" You drop your face in your hands, completely abandoning the soft hold you had on him and scorching bright red at his tongue. The gruff baritone of his voice whenever he's intoxicated goes right past all of your barriers, when he speaks out like that, all nonchalant and free.
He staggers in his steps, even though he still has you caged by that wall. As his nose brushes against the side of your jaw, your hand goes back to holding him against you, for your own sake. "There's food at home," you indicate quietly, as you feel both thumbs skimming against the side of your face, as he plays with the free strands of your hair there. He shakes his head quietly before he puts his nose against yours. "You wanna leave?" he asks then.
Your arm brushes against the side of his hip there, the golden cross necklace seeking into your vision when he brings you down for a sudden crushing kiss. A winning smirk forms on his lips when he has you where he wanted. "Y-you." it's like you're speaking a foreign language at him when he's the one to laugh now. His grip on your waist kept you from bursting all over those walls.
"It's my birthday, and I'll get whatever I want, right?" he cocks his head to the side, eyes greedy and fanatical as you ponder how he still remembers your conversation from last week. The roughness of his French accent comes to light when he suddenly has to switch from his native language, to talk back with you.
"Whatever you want." you beam at him when his hands sleep under the material of your lengthy summer dress, fingers skimming by the side of your thigh, and you're close to thanking God for the high cut on the side.
"Want to go home with me?" you know it's not really a pondering question when you arrived on a quick surprise visit before his actual birthday starts, staying with him til you have to leave again, but it doesn't stop you from saying..
"Yes."
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valentinajadehill · 8 months
Text
pierre gasly masterlist
one time thing, two time thing ft charles part two link
just the three of us ft charles
concentration
i'm definitely one of a kind
always
lake como
party
extra workouts
room 301
2 am
for fun
please notice
let me help you ease the pain
bad idea ft charles
blurbs
merch
mercedes .
working out .
lunch
interruption .
kisses .
charles
cannes
liked by
baby fever
twins
surfing
yuki
cuddles
yuki's crush
car
pierre gaslyyyyy
caught
bahrain
unwell
sleepy voice
feelings
plane
morning after
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zl-main · 2 months
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The F1 Princessa: Post Tripod
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Hope you like this one! Thank you again for the birthday wishes!
Please don't forget to like, share, and comment!
The F1 Princessa: Post Tripod
By: ZL-Main/ZL-Sport
Word Count: 1341
Unedited
Requested
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©
DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPRODUCE, OR POST ANYWHERE ELSE
--------
Since the Tripod interview, people all over the internet took advantage of the footage, making memes of it, gifs, posters, mugs, t-shirts, anything to keep both the drivers and the media continuously laughing. Though Pierre found it funny, the only thing he didn’t find funny was the fact he had to explain the whole situation to Toto and Susie who kept hearing Nia refer to Pierre as Tripod. 
At first Toto and Susie weren’t aware of the interview Pierre had done with the Formula One YouTube Channel and were thoroughly confused. When the video was released they understood the sexual innuendo. They weren’t pleased to say the least; they understood the joke but the fact that Nia was so young and impressionable, made them concerned about her picking up inappropriate things. Which is understandable as a parent. Nia often repeated a lot of what she heard from the drivers and sometimes the engineers. Thus, why now, Yuki had to do a lot of self-censoring when he ever hung out with Nia. 
Many fans around the world knew of Pierre’s, let’s say ‘unique’ nickname and often would give him tripods when meeting fans in new cities. To the point the guy had a tripod for every day of the year. Unfortunately, due to the wide exposure of the video, Nia had made the decision to start calling Pierre tripod which horrified him and her parents while everyone else found it the funniest thing in the world. 
“Liebe (love), you cannot call your uncle that.” Toto says for the fifth time in the last ten minutes as he types away at his computer as Nia FaceTime’s her uncle on her father’s phone. 
“Tripod doesn’t mind. He said his name.” Nia responds looking up at her father as Pierre wishes the ground would just eat him up whole. 
“Mon Petit (My little one), you can’t call me that. I am Pear to you.” Pierre tried to reason and sound like a confident parent figure but quite honestly he was failing. Each time Nia brought up the name he wished the ground would swallow him up whole. Out of all the things she could have repeated from him, it had to be ‘tripod’. 
“Nia, it isn’t polite to disrespect your uncle like that.” Toto responded sternly, as he turned to look at his daughter who quite honestly looked quite cute. Nia was sitting on the floor wrapped up in a big blanket Lewis had bought her with her little teddy. Her hair was up in pigtails which showed off her facial features. Her little toothy grin always brought a smile to his face. 
“But uncle Danny says it and uncle Lanlan.” Nia responded, making Pierre facepalm. Of course those two would try to keep the joke going. They were always so unserious when it came to sexual innuendos and the more they teased and kept this nonsense joke going the longer it would manifest into a bad habit for the little girl. Pierre quite honestly worried that Toto and Susie would never let him around Nia again in fear he would bring out another sexual innuendo joke that she would hook onto. 
“Uncle Lanlan and Uncle Danny are teasing me and shouldn’t be saying it around you.” Pierre tried to explain, but Nia had placed the phone down and currently the French driver was staring at the ceiling resulting in him not quite knowing whether or not Nia was truly listening to a word he was saying. 
“Your uncles are troublemakers Nia, and you shouldn’t take after them.” Toto responds, shaking his head. 
“They should really be more careful.”Pierre says more to Toto than Nia. 
“You should have been more careful.” Toto responds slightly seriously but also in a joking way knowing the French driver didn’t mean for Nia to pick up the name. 
“Hopefully, she will forget about it in the next few days since we are all on break. Maybe if she doesn’t hear it for a while she might forget it.” Pierre reasons. Honestly, he was really hoping she would forget the name because he knew he might not live the nickname down from his peers but from his adopted little sister/niece, that was something he really didn’t want. 
“Here’s hoping.” Toto replied before the two said their goodbyes. 
The break was only a week and half which meant Nia got to spend some more time with her parents and her brother who was also off from school. The family was able to spend some quality time together, something they didn’t get to do very often. Usually only spending the summers and winter break together while the rest of the year everyone was busy with school and work. 
Both Susie and Toto valued these times and enjoyed watching their kids grow. They got to see what their children’s personalities were like since sometimes one saw one child more than the other or vice versa. For example, most of the time, Jack was with Susie jumping between Milan and Monaco whereas Nia was lucky enough to travel to some places with her father, though there were the periods she did stay with her mother. 
The break ended and it was time for everyone to get back to work, luckily most people were meeting back in England at the main headquarters in order to prepare and check the cars before shipping out to the next race. During the winter break, Pierre had avoided calling Nia, in fear she would still call him ‘Tripod’; but he wasn’t the only one that prevented the Frenchman and the young child from calling each other. Her parents wanted to make sure she wouldn’t call Pierre Tripod. Often holding photos up of Pierre that they found online to try and teach the young girl to call Pierre, Pear once again. It was back and forth, sometimes she would call Pierre tripod and other times she would call him pear. The real test would be when the two would see each other again would the three adults figure out whether or not their plan had worked. 
The drivers had gotten together in preparation for the next half of the year when the Frenchman and the little girl met again. Lewis had brought the little girl with him along with Jack who had complained about not being able to join the group regularly which the seven time world champion did not disagree with and brought the other young Wolff along as well. 
Walking into the restaurant, Pierre hadn’t seen the little girl. Quite frankly, everyone was getting freakishly tall and he really could only see the tops and back of peoples’ heads which meant he had yet laid eyes on the little girl. It wasn’t until a few drivers exclaimed Nia’s and Jack’s name for the Frenchman to freeze. He felt a little anxiety bubble up inside of him. Though he was excited to see the kids, he truly worried about his fate. If he was now going to be called Tripod, he could kiss his relationship with Nia goodbye, but if she called him Pear. Boy, he would be happy and relieved, meaning, another problem completed. Though he also knew Kika would be cross with him if Nia kept the name Tripod, probably even dump him for Nia. Nia was her child and she wasn’t going to let Pierre corrupt her little girl. 
“Pear?” A little voice called from behind Pierre, the Frenchman smiled before turning and looking down to see his little girl. She wore a little dress that he had bought her for Valentine's day. Why? Because he can and he will. Her hair was tied up into a little ponytail with a flower hair tie. She smiled up at him as he crouched down. 
“Hi there my mon petit.” Pierre says as he gives her a hug. “Did you miss me?” 
“I miss Pear.” Nia replied as he let a rumble laugh escape his lips before kissing her on her cheek. 
“I miss you too.” 
-------REQUESTS ARE OPEN ------
Tag List:
@shannon-jade-99
@omgsuperstarg
@laura-naruto-fan1998
@nikfigueiredo
@xckate4x-blog
@darleneslane
@eugene-emt-roe
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leclercdreams · 1 year
Note
hiii can i ask for some hurt/comfort with pierre?🥹 💗
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𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐦 ❘❘ 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘺
pairing: Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader
warnings: Hurting Pierre, some emotional breakdown scenes, angry reader, some swear words, all translations are from google translate, mentions of 2015 soft fluff to make our fav Frenchman feel better.
word count: 1.87K
a/n: I have not written imagines in ages so please be kind, I normally plan stories very carefully and write on Wattpad. I'm using the Japanese GP for this comfort piece.
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You had been with Pierre for the better part of five years, you had your hard days and your good days, the days you wanted to strangle him, but your love never faltered for the Frenchman.
The Japanese Grand Prix was one you had been waiting for all year, hearing how much Yuki loved his home, as well as Seb’s stories he had to share. You had been waiting and when the time came it had been raining heavily for the better part of the weekend there. Working for the Alpha Tauri marketing team meant that you traveled with them everywhere, it would be anyone’s dream.
You were sat in Pierre’s driver's room, the said driver pulling on his fireproofs and race suit letting it hang on his hips, a knock on the door brought you out of your daydream about your boyfriend just a few feet away bopping his head to the music playing through his earphones.
Standing from your spot you took a few steps to the door and pulled it open gaining Pierre’s attention. “Hey, Pyry, you here to steal him?” Hugging the man you smiled when he let out a chuckle and shook his head, “not yet, just thought we could do some preparation. It’s a tricky track.” Humming you wrapped your arms around Pierre who had walked over to you and kissed your temple.
“I’ll leave you two to it then, I need to go check on Charles, Japan doesn’t have happy memories for him.” Turning your head so the French driver could have your attention you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, following you when you pulled away he placed a few more kisses on your lips until you placed your hand on his chest. “I’ll be back before you get in the car mon amour.”
Saying goodbye you grabbed Pierre’s extra jacket, the one you already wearing not providing nearly enough warmth, greeting some of the staff as you set off to the Ferrari garage to find your best friend. It might sound ridiculously cliché, but Charles had been your best friend since the two of you were babies, if any Pierre was the one that came and just stuck around, something you both were thankful for.
“Y/N!” Spinning around you were met by Carlos who was making his way toward you with two steaming cups in his hands, “please tell me one of those is for me?” The desperate look on your face made the Spaniard cave and held on out to you making you sigh happily keeping it close to keep yourself warm. “Bless your soul, Carlitos. How are you doing? You ready for the race?”
Carlos sent you a smile and walked with you, knowing exactly where you are heading, Ferrari had gotten used to you wandering around, trusting you completely knowing you only wanted to see the Monégasque driver.
“Alright, I don’t think we will get much racing done, but I am excited to be in Japan.” Sending him a comforting smile the two of you stopped when he heard his name being called, excusing himself she gave him a quick hug before entering Charles’ driver's room. “ Éclair, hey, I just wanted to come to check on you.”
Charles turned around from pulling on his jacket and walked over to her, the tight hug he gave her made her almost spill the coffee, but luckily for both of you it was saved from your quick reflexes. “Hi.” It was such a simple word, but one you could hear so much emotion behind it.
You stayed with him for as long as you could, giving him motivation and words of comfort until you had to leave again, hugging him goodbye you made your way back to the Alpha Tauri garage as quickly as possible. Seeing Pierre standing close to his car you almost sprinted to him and hugged him tightly making his engineer stop talking.
The growing pit in your stomach was growing even more and worry started to settle in the pit of your stomach. You felt his arms wrap around you holding you close as possible before pulling away, “what’s wrong mon ange?” Shaking your head you breathed out and placed your hands on his cheeks looking into the sparkly blue eyes you loved so much.
“Be careful, please, just promise me you will be careful.” Staying silent for a few heartbeats he felt her grip tighten on him and he nodded confirming your request. Leaning down he placed a kiss on your lips, whispering those three words you’d never get tired of. “Je t'aime tellement mon amour.”
Pulling on his balaclava you stood next to Pyry while placing the headset on your head so you could hear Pierre over the radio, As much as you looked forward to Japan, you couldn’t help the bad feeling you had.
As if he could feel your stress and fear Pyry wrapped his arm around your shoulder making you relax slightly, your eyes not leaving the monitor once as you watched the cars line up after their formation lap. It was true what your father always said, the rush of watching motorsport was a strong feeling, and in the current moment you could throw up with how nervous you were.
One by one the red lights went on, chewing on your thumbnail slightly you crossed your arms after a bit and leaned into your close friend’s side. It was only the first lap when it happened, the start for Charles was great until Max regained the lead of two very good friends of yours. Your heart hammered in your ears as your eyes never left the monitor.
Gasps sounded out throughout the entire garage when Carlos went off track and hid the barrier, his car span slightly but thankfully from what could be seen and what was shown on the monitors confirmed he looked okay, your heart sank thinking about the Spaniard knowing he wouldn’t be able to finish the race.
Frowning you walked a bit closer to the monitor seeing some board stuck to Pierre’s car, but that wasn’t what made your blood run cold. It was when you heard his clear distressed voice over the team radio about a tractor on the track while the drivers were still on it. A full red flag was not set for them to come back into the pit and one glance at Pyry confirmed your suspicion and what Pierre said was in fact true. Walking over to one of the women from the social media teams you looked over her shoulder a small sad smile sent your way when she saw you.
Someone had caught the tractor on the track, in the horrid conditions they were in, not only when Pierre who was at the back passed by, but when Charles and Max, even Sebastian passed it. Despite the cold and wet conditions, you could feel your anger rising, clearly, the FIA had learned nothing from Jules’ accident.
This entire race was a big mess, and if you were completely honest you wished for them to call it off, it was dangerous, and seeing them Disrespect Jules’ memory the way they did made you even more emotional. The race that was set to start again had been once again suspended, Pierre was in the garage headset on and talking to someone while you helped some of the guys hand out warm drinks to the team.
It felt like hours that you waited and being informed that the FIA wanted to have a word with Pierre made you bite your tongue not wanting to get into any trouble, you wanted it to be over, and you knew that Pierre wanted it to be over too.
When the end of the race came it felt like you could breathe again, breathing out a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding, excusing yourself from the team you quickly made your way to the restroom to empty the contents of your stomach and then deciding to wait for Pierre in his driver’s room.
Bouncing your leg up and down while playing with your fingers and staring at the blank white wall you looked up when the door opened and saw your exhausted boyfriend. Flying up from the sofa you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed as tight as you could, feeling his arms go around you could also feel his shoulders start to shake.
Pulling away from him slightly you placed your hands on his cheeks wiping away the tears he had let out. It broke your heart seeing him like this, years you had known him, he had shared tears for dear friends that had been lost, but never after one of his own races.
“Shh, hey baby, shh it’s okay. Come here.” Pulling him with you to the sofa, you took a seat on the end and pulled him down with you. Wrapping your arms around him you let him get out the emotions he will have to put behind him when going out for his post-race interview, your fingers running through his hair helping him calm down as much as you could.
“How could they do that? Have they learned nothing about what happened to Jules? It’s so disrespectful to him and his family. I-I could have-” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Pierre Gasly.” Pushing him back you straddled his hips and weaved your fingers through his hair and making him look up at you.
“You are here, you are safe, and yes, what they did was totally unacceptable, they are disrespectful and they need to be checked. Right now I am just grateful you are here.”
Kissing his forehead you smiled and hugged him closer to your body again, feeling him relax made you feel somewhat pleased with yourself knowing you could calm him down. Your comfortable bubble was broken when the door opened revealing Pyry. “It’s time for the post-match interviews.”
Sighing you removed yourself from Pierre letting him stand up and pull on his jacket. Grabbing your hand you held onto his tightly as you followed him still quietly whispering into his ear, “after this when we leave, we can have all the Chinese you want and watch all your favourite films mon amour. If I have to fight Pyry myself I will.” Looking over your shoulder, you winked at the trainer who only shook his head with a smile, not even trying to protest.
Standing to the side next to some other drivers you had noticed him looking over to where you were the entire time even while talking and the glistening tears he refused to let out made your heart sink again. “Will he be alright?” Looking next to you making eye contact with Daniel and letting a small sad smile playing on your lips you shrugged and looked back at Pierre who was finishing up. “He will be, it’ll take a while, but he will be okay.”
When he finished his interview he left the press immediately and came to your side, his arm going around your waist his face resting in the crook of your neck.
“Can we go home now?” Waving to Daniel you turned around and wrapped your arms around him kissing his cheek. “Yeah, let’s go home, handsome.”
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Tag List: @ifancycharlesleclerc @luv4gasly @sebchalmaxiel @gaslysgirl @greykitkepa @pierregasiy
ps: please let me know if you want to be part of the tag list.
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love-belle · 9 months
Text
my entire universe !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they're all one big happy family.
or
for when you find everything you spent your life looking for. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hello!!! i absolutely loved writing this so much, dad!pierre so ❤️❤️❤️❤️ and he'd be such a girl dad likeeee !!! anyways, i hope u liked it!! thank you so much for reading, i think i'd be able to post another social media au by tonight but im not sure :/// i love you all so much <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 789,426 others
yourusername can't believe that im a MOTHER like i MADE that baby and the baby is real cute
7,267 comments
username BABY ADELAIDE
username addy's mom is y/n y/l/n and her dad is pierre gasly what's there to explain
username i love baby adelaide so much omg
danielricciardo missing miss addy ❤️❤️❤️
-> yourusername she misses her uncle danny ❤️
username i would die for baby adelaide
username y/n really is MOTHER
*liked by pierregasly*
lilymhe missing my best friend ❤️‍🩹
-> yourusername me or addy???
-> lilymhe yes.
username still in disbelief that y/n and pierre have a CHILD like they're actually PARENTS
username adelaide ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
lewishamilton roscoe misses his best friend 🤍
-> yourusername she misses HER best friend ❤️‍🩹
username i live for the grid basically adopting addy
charles_leclerc my fav god daughter ❤️
-> landonorris MY god daughter
-> danielricciardo actually no
-> maxverstappen1 move it's me
-> lewishamilton not really no
-> carlossainz55 it's me actually
-> yourusername i'll just stay out of this one 🔥🔥🔥
pierregasly we make cute babies
-> yourusername fuck yeah we do
pierregasly she takes after her maman
-> danielricciardo thank god
-> yourusername LMFAOOO
-> pierregasly you're now banned from our house.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 864,427 others
pierregasly nine months of the most important job ever ❤️
7,976 comments
username DAD!PIERRE
username IN LOVE WITH THEM OMG
username tearing up ngl
carlossainz55 my fav gasly and then it's pierre
-> pierregasly ok fuck u i guess
username ADELAIDE AND PIERRE 😭😭😭😭😭
-> username iconic duo
username he's such a girl dad i love him
lewishamilton can't believe it's been nine months already
-> pierregasly i know like time flies
username I LIVE FOR BABY ADELAIDE CONTENT
username i would go to war for baby addy im not even kidding
charles_leclerc she's growing up so fast
-> yourusername charles don't he'll start crying AGAIN
-> pierregasly she is 😭😭😭
username i feel like a proud mother omg
username the way we basically witnessed them getting together and now they're PARENTS like
-> username we went from them awkwardly flirting to them having baby together 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
-> username we've come so far ❤️‍🩹
yourusername my whole world ❤️
-> pierregasly we love you so much
yourusername the bad papa ever 🗣️🗣️🗣️
-> pierregasly 🤟😏
-> username HELP THE EMOJIS
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername the loves of my life ❤️
tagged pierregasly
7,246 comments
username IM GONNA CRY
username THIS FAMILY BRUH
username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username pierre in the first photo 🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤 i love my parents so much 🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
lilymhe ❤️❤️❤️
*liked by yourusername*
username BABY ADELAIDE IS ADORABLE LIKEEEE
username they're so family goals 🔥🔥🔥
username what do i gotta do to be adopted by them question mark
charles_leclerc maman misses her petite fille ( grand daughter )
-> yourusername bringing over addy asap she misses her grandmère ( grandmother )
username the fact that baby adelaide is literally the paddock's princess
-> username she has every single driver wrapped around her finger and she can't even talk
username i have only had baby addy for some time but if something happened to her i would kill everyone in this room then myself
username this family gives me so much serotonin ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
danielricciardo BABY GAAAAASSSLYYYYYY
*liked by yourusername*
username ok but we NEED to know who's her godfather
-> username REAL like it's such a mystery
landonorris stealing baby adelaide watch out
-> yourusername pierre is asleep rn but he would kick your ass
-> landonorris i 👏 don't 👏 care 👏
username god me when
username this is so domestic i love
username pierre is so babygirl in the first photo like
-> yourusername he's always so babygirl
-> yourusername im getting this comment framed btw
-> username HELP BABYGIRL
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pierregasly my whole universe ❤️
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boredmadamoiselle · 1 year
Text
I just don't like you anymore - Pt. 2
Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Reader, Max Verstappen x Reader
Synopsis: You and Pierre are best friends, but then something changes and it's not just about your feelings for him.
Warnings: Pierre being an asshole to the reader and maybe a little toxic too. Inspired by "One Day" movie. Smut. English isn't my first language, it probably contains some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.
Pt. 1
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Five years later 
As the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath. Before you had to go, you had asked for a moment to be alone and away from everything. Not because you were nervous or worse scared and ready to escape. Far from it, you were actually happier than ever. You just needed a few minutes before everything changed and some silence. Between appointments and things to do, the last few days had been crowded and busy, to say the least. 
After a few more breaths, you finally looked at your image in the mirror and smiled. The white dress fitted you perfectly. Here we are, you thought. As your eyes were getting shiny, you pushed back the tears. 
You remembered the day he asked you to marry him. Everything had fallen into place and you hadn’t hesitated for a second to say yes. And now you couldn't wait to say it one more time in front of everyone. Until death do you part. 
Someone knocked on the door stealing you from your memories. It was time, you thought. You smiled at your own reflection one last time and went to open the door. 
As you were walking down the aisle, you played on repeat in your mind all the moments that had led you to that day. Everything happens for a reason, you always thought. In fact, good or bad they were, you were grateful to each moment and wouldn't change anything in the world. After all, every single moment had brought you to the man who was waiting for you at the altar. You finally looked at him. Even though the room was full of people, he had eyes only for you. Only you and him existed, as it always had been. You smiled at him and mouthed the words "I love you". Just a few years ago you never imagined being with him and now here you are on the verge of spending your whole life with him. Life was strange and unexpected, yes, but still wonderful. 
As the officiator was talking, you took a moment to look out and see all the guests. The full grid was at your wedding, including him. He was sitting in the front rows with your son: two of the most important men in your life. That image filled your heart with joy. His gaze was on you, ready to take you away if you wanted to. "You still have time to change your mind. Just give me a nod and I'll get you out of here as fast as possible. You know I’m fast", he had whispered to you earlier. Although the idea made you grin, you perfectly knew he was as serious as you were sure of your choice. And he knew that too. 
You smiled at the driver to reassure him. With melancholy and a little regret, he did the same. It was time he let you go, even if it meant in someone else's arms, but with the knowledge that you had tried at least. Even though it didn't work out in the end, it was worth it.
You remembered everything you had gone through together one last time. 
Not everything goes your way, but everything happens for a reason, you thought again. And that was for sure your case. 
Now 
When you got to the hotel after your argument with Pierre, you didn't even notice. Your body was shaking with tears and Max picked you up.
Once in his room, Max helped you undress and put you to bed. You were still sobbing when you heard him lie down next to you, putting his arms around your hips. You didn't resist, you didn't want to. He was the anchor that kept you afloat and you feared that without him you would sink.
As his breathing became regular, you started to think about your evening, focusing especially on the last moments that had ended it. Although it had all happened so quickly, it just took a few minutes to put an end to a relationship of a lifetime. You knew for sure that what had happened between you and Pierre was a turning point in your relationship. You didn’t know what you would become, but you were sure you weren't going to be who you used to be. Probably not what you hoped for and not even what you were.
Pierre had said nothing and although you hadn’t given him the time to reply, he hadn’t even stopped or followed you. He had done nothing. And that told you enough.
A few minutes later, too tired and without realizing it, you fell asleep. 
When you woke up the next morning and turned on the other side, Max was still there to your surprise. You took a look at the alarm clock. It was already 10 o'clock and usually at that time, even after a race, he was already running or in the gym working out, but that day he had put aside his rigid daily routine and had stayed. Maybe he was just tired, you thought. Or maybe he had done for you because he didn’t want to let you alone. You were still grateful to him. Having him there with you made you feel more serene.
You smiled at the sight of him sleeping so peacefully. Despite everything, something good and unexpected was born from that situation with Pierre: your friendship with Max. 
Trying not to wake the driver up, you got off the bed and went directly to the bathroom to shower. While you were waiting for the water to heat up, you looked at your image in the mirror. With puffy eyes and mascara dripping underneath, you looked terrible. Not to mention the tiredness you felt, despite you had slept. It wasn’t just physical; you were tired mentally also. But nothing was stronger than the pain you were feeling. Even the boiling water from the shower didn't hurt you. 
By the time you got out of the bathroom, Max was already awake and packing for both of you. It was time to go home… But I didn't have one anymore, you thought. For you, home had always been Pierre. What was he for you now?, you wondered yourself. The only sure thing was that you couldn't go home, at least not now. You needed time and distance from him. 
Max looked at you as you walked up to help him to pack but he stopped you even before you could do anything. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this. Go get something to eat. I had breakfast brought”, he said. 
Realizing that he wouldn't accept a no as an answer, you smiled at him and followed his advice. 
Two hours later, you were sitting on Max’ jet waiting for it to take off.
While Max was talking to the pilot to finalize the last details, you checked your phone. You hadn't touched it since the other night and the battery was running out. Pierre had tried to contact you immediately after you had gone away. More and more times. There were lots lost calls and text messages from him. 
Please, Y/n, let’s talk? 
Can we talk?
Forgive me 
Please
I’m so sorry
At a certain point, during the night, he had stopped contacting you. You had received his last text message at 2am. Later he had texted you again but had immediately deleted the messages. Why?, you thought. What had he written to you that he immediately regretted?
After that there was nothing more, press silence. You had no time to ask yourself why or to reply him as Max sat in front of you and you put your phone away. You would have thought about what to do later, whether to answer him or not.
“We are going to take off. We will be home soon”, he said as he fastened his seat belt and you did the same. 
“I don't have a home to go back to anymore”, you bit your tongue as you realized you had said it aloud. 
Damn, you thought. The last thing you wanted was make him feel sorry for you.
“You could.”
His words took you by surprise and you immediately looked at him not knowing exactly what he meant.
Already looking at you, he cleared his throat. “Stay in Monaco with me. We could spend the summer break together. You could relax and clear your mind. It will do you good.”
With the holidays approaching, you knew Max was planning to spend some quality time with his mother and his sister Victoria in the French Riviera. He had mentioned it many times during the last weeks, but he never said anything about you coming too. In fact, he had never invited you and you didn't even expect it. After all, you were nothing but just friends. In addition to that, it would be embarrassing to spend time with his family, for both of you. They would have asked questions about you or worse they would have judged you. And there were already enough people doing it.
“Thank you, but you don't have to feel obliged to invite me. Also, I don't think I'd be good company and the last thing I want is to ruin your holidays, especially to your mom and sister.”
“Y/n, you won’t ruin anything. We don't even have to be together if you don't want to. You could stay in Monaco alone while I’m away, even if I prefer you would come with us. And…” 
You waited for him to continue. “I had already intended to invite you; in fact I should have done so long ago but I didn't know if you wanted the same. I’m sorry.”
Those words filled your heart with surprise and joy. In the previous weeks, you had feared the day you would have to part ways with Max. Although you had recently gotten close, the truth was that Max had already become an important person to you. And thinking him away from you, even if it was for a short time, it hurt you.
“So what do you say?”
Now it was up to you. Max had been clear about it: he wanted you with him. What about you? Did you want the same? Was it the right thing to do? You were confused about many things but you knew one thing: you didn't want to be alone and much less be away from Max. 
“Okay, I’ll stay.” And a big smile appeared on Max’ face. 
-
It had been a week since Hungary. After having spent a few days in Monaco, you were on a yacht in the Mediterranean with Max and his family. Although they didn’t know for sure what was going on between you and him, Sophie and Vittoria had accepted you right away, welcoming you and making you feel at ease. Sophie treated you like a daughter and with Victoria you were already very good friends. You loved spending time with them and playing with Max's grandchildren. Although it wasn't, you were feeling at home how you hadn't felt in a long time. And it was a good feeling.
Max had introduced you as a friend, but they weren't stupid and knew there was something more, especially after some shots of you two kissing in Hungary had been posted on the internet. 
The whole world knew now you were more than friends and the F1 fans went crazy when they saw the pictures, officially labelling you as Max Verstappen's new girlfriend and saying you were dating for sure. Initially, you had panicked not knowing what to say or how to behave, especially in front of his family. Most fans were apparently happy for you two and thought you were cute together; others instead had been less kind writing their comments, saying you had betrayed Pierre's loyalty going with his rival and that you were just a gold digger. 
You couldn’t deny that those comments had hurt you, even if you knew it wasn’t true. Max had not batted an eye instead; indeed, he had become even more affectionate with you in public. He held your hand when you were walking, hugged you or even kissed you, not caring about who could see you, including the paparazzi. 
“Who cares what others say? They know nothing about us. It's just you and me and that's all that matters”, he had told you reassuring you. 
He was right. But… what were we?, you couldn't help but think.
Everyone was right actually. There was certainly something between you: something had changed, and everything had become more intense in the last few days. You’ve met his family and you were spending day and night together. In fact, you almost looked like a couple. 
You also hadn't heard from Pierre since Hungary. No texts and phone calls. You had no idea where or how he was. And in the end you had decided not to write or call him. You had already said enough. It was up to him to do something.
You weren't deluded and didn't expect him to reciprocate your feelings, but you didn't even expect him to act like nothing happened. 
After all, you had told him you loved him. It must have meant something to him. Then you remembered you were talking about the same Pierre who had ignored you all those months. What were you surprised at?
You weren’t even sad anymore, at this point you were just disappointed. You had realized that was always you who made the effort. You had clearly told him you loved him, and he had done nothing. His silence was worth a thousand words. 
That was why you had stopped crying for him. Pierre no longer deserved your tears, your thoughts or even your heart. You wanted to save all this for someone who really deserved it and focus on yourself. And maybe you've already found it. 
After everything that had happened, you were supposed to be sad or desperate, but you weren’t anymore. Thanks to Max you didn’t have much time to think about Pierre and in the end, you were grateful to him for inviting you. 
Max had a positive effect on you. You were strangely happy and calm. There was no time for crying or long faces. That was Max’ superpower: when you were with him, he was able to make all your problems or thoughts go away. To make you forget Pierre. And even if it might have been wrong, it felt so good to be treated with respect and above all, be wanted by someone. 
As he was doing at that moment, with you pressed against the mattress and Max on top of you kissing all the way down your jaw to your neck and then collarbone. That alone was enough to drive you crazy and to make difficult for you to think about anything. 
Since you have been on board and despite you have risked being discovered on several occasions, Max took every opportunity to fuck you in every corner of the yacht. Even with his family a few meters from you, he had no shame to touch you inappropriately. You, on the other hand, didn't want to stop him. The risk of getting caught excited you and made you feel alive tha ever.
He was moving down, kissing your naked chest and making you gasp as you felt his tongue on your nipple, biting a little, sucking a little more, while his hand was massaging the other breast. 
Knowing his mother and sister was around, you were trying to keep yourself quiet but Max wasn’t making that easy for you, especially when you were starting to feel your own arousal become nigh unbearable. 
Without stopping kissing you, he slipped his hand inside your bikini and run his fingers over your pussy already wet. He pushed one finger inside of you. It slipped in so easily he quickly added one more that made their way in and out of you. As Max didn’t stop kissing your chest, your back arched a little and your fingers tugged on his hair. As soon his fingers made contact with your clit, you could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, but the feeling of his fingers inside you wasn’t enough, you needed more. 
“Max, I need you”, you breathed. “Please.” 
“I don’t understand, schatz. You already have me.” He continued pushing his fingers in and out of you. “What do you want exactly?”, he said teasing you. 
You locked your eyes with Max to find him already staring at you with a smirk on his face. Little bastard, you thought. But you loved when he called you like that. Schatz.
Max was a dominant type, so obviously he would have teased you until you were begging for him, even though you both wanted the same thing. If you weren’t craving his dick so badly right now, you would have slapped him and tried to resist him. But, as much as you hated it and because you had waited long enough, you didn’t argue. In the end, that was a game you were happy to lose. Sometimes. 
“I need you to fuck me, Max.” You never stopped looking at him. 
Satisfied with your answer, Max smiled at you.
“As you please.”
As he pulled his fingers out of you, you whimpered feeling the sudden emptiness. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips before kissing you hard. 
It didn't take long for you to remain completely naked. Max had still his costume on instead, so you wrapped one of your legs around him pulling him close to your body. You quickly tugged his swimsuit down to let his cock free. 
He aligned himself against your entrance, teasing your wet folds, and carefully thrusted into you, both of you moaning at the sensation of your bodies coming together.
Max gave you a second to adjust to him before he started rocking his hips.
He had your thighs wrapped around his waist and as his thrusts became harder and faster.
Your head rolled back into the pillows, you bit your lip until you couldn’t hold back anymore and let out a loud moan. That made Max groan and thrust deeper into you, hitting your g-spot. The room filled with the sound of hips slapping against yours with every thrust he made and the headboard bashing against the wall.
His fingers started drawing circles on your clit and your knuckles turned white as you tugged on the sheets at your sides. 
“Fuck - I don’t think I‘m going to last very long.” While you were a moaning mess, Max’ face was full of pleasure seeing you like that. 
You pulled him towards you in order to kiss him.
You were clenching around him as he continued thrusting his hips and rubbing your clit, your breathing getting shorter by the minute and moaning inside his mouth.
“Oh my God, Max....” Your orgasm came and Max came right after, filling you up with his cum. 
With him inside you, you felt like you were one thing. There were just him and you. 
A few minutes after, he pulled out and laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.
You stayed like that for a few minutes as you were both trying to catch your breath, your heart was beating fast and you could feel his cum dripping out of you. 
After a while, when he returned to breathe normally, Max got off the bed. You saw his naked silhouette disappearing into the bathroom and returning shortly after with a towel in his hand to clean you. 
Sitting on the bed, he gently rubbed the cloth over your legs before focusing on where you needed him most. You blushed. You had just fucked, yet that moment was ten times more intimate, feeling so exposed under his gaze and his delicate touch. 
There was no embarrassment or shame, it just felt unusual, especially since it was him. Max. He wasn't the affectionate type, yet he had been so carefully towards you, taking extraordinary care of you for the past few days. He had comforted and cheered you up, but at the same time he had left you space when you needed it. Even in those moments, though, you knew he was there for you if you needed him. 
Max had amazed you. He was able to go from being the aggressive F1 driver that everyone feared in the track to being sweet and kind to you. You, on the other hand, had gone from despising him to being his friend. Friends who kissed and fucked sometimes, sure, but still friends. But were you just that?, you thought. All this destabilized and left you confused.
“Wanna take a shower?”. You met Max’ gaze and grateful for taking you out of your thoughts, you nodded.  
Once in the shower, you were already ready for the second round and things escalated pretty fast.
After that, you went back to bed to rest. You were laying down in his arms when you slowly turned around to face him. His eyes were closed. You found yourself gently running your fingers across his face as you looked at him carefully. His facial features were relaxed and he seemed at peace, almost asleep. 
“It will do you good”, Max had said when he had proposed you stayed with him during the summer. And he was right. But it wasn't the place that made you feel good. It was him. He made you feel safe and loved.
Max slowly opened his eyes and looked at you. He pulled you closer until your foreheads were touching, and his lips were grazing yours until they collided. The kiss was loving and gentle, not like the one you had exchanged earlier. He was taking his time with you. There was no rush, just… love?, you thought.
We’re just friends, you thought. But friends shouldn’t know the way you taste. 
So what were you?
-
Pierre was scrolling his Instagram feed when some photos caught his attention. Although they were shot from behind and the quality wasn’t the best, he immediately recognized you. And Max. You were holding hands in the streets of Cannes. 
Those photos were yet another stab in the heart of the French driver. Since Hungary, something had changed in your relationship with Max. Since some pictures and videos of you kissing had been posted, you were less discreet and apparently no longer hiding. In fact, in the last few days you had often been seen kissing and hugging each other in public. The more time passed, the more you seemed officially a couple, Pierre had noticed. Maybe you were, he thought. And what was he doing to prevent this from happening? Nothing. He hadn't done anything months ago when everything had started between you and Max and he wasn't doing anything now, thus letting Max win, as on the track. But you were more important than racing, than... everything. However, he had not been able to prove it to you in the last period. He had ignored you and made you feel like you didn't matter.
Also, the fact you weren't on vacation alone didn't reassure him at all. You had met Max’ family and that could mean something, Pierre thought. Could things already be so serious between you two? You had confessed your feelings to him just a few days ago. 
As Pierre sat alone in his living room, feeling powerless and miserable, he read the text messages he had sent to you that night.
Please, Y/n, let’s talk? 
Can we talk?
Forgive me 
Please
I’m so sorry
I fucked it up
I don’t deserve you
The last two he had written after hours and immediately deleted. He had fucked everything up... once again. And the truth was he didn't deserve you. It was all true. But even so he hadn't enough courage to admit it because it would have meant making it real. Pierre hated himself for being such a coward but he was and the fact that he had never tried to contact you again proved it.
As he played on repeat in his mind the events of that night, he wondered what had happened if he had acted differently.
“Je t’aime, Pierre. Je t’aime tant” (I love you, Pierre. So much). He had tried to tell you the same for years but that was a race he had lost, you had preceded him. When you had finally told him the words he had so hoped to hear you say, Pierre had been unable to say anything. How stupid could I have been?, he thought. That was my chance and I wasted it. But the truth was that Pierre had had many chances before. 
Your words had paralyzed him as he processed them. Initially, he did not understand the true meaning behind your words. You were friends, so obviously you loved each other. So why did it sound so different at that moment? Only then he understood what you really meant. You loved him the same way he had secretly loved you all those years. How could I have been so blind?, he thought. When did it happen? Had you always been in love with him and he had never noticed anything? Pierre would have liked to laugh at the irony of the situation, while a lot of questions made their way into his mind. He wanted to ask you so many things but at that moment he only had to do one thing. Something he had wanted to do for a long time. 
But your next words had killed him inside before he could have done anything. 
“Tu ne me plais tout simplement plus” (I just don’t like you anymore). Your voice was raspy, broken and fragile, matching the way you looked. 
At the sound of those words the world collapsed on him. No, no, no… that can’t be, he thought, he wanted to say to you. He had just found you, yet he had immediately lost you. The weight of your words was crushing him. All the air seemingly had left his body.
Before Pierre could have said anything, you had ran away leaving him alone. And his heart shattered into a million pieces. 
Looking back on everything that had happened, he was the only one to blame. If only he had told you long ago that he felt the same for you, maybe things would have turned out differently. But when Pierre had understood he loved you many years ago and thinking that you didn't reciprocate his feelings, he had decided to keep them to himself. He thought it would have ruined your friendship and it was better to have you as his best friend than not to have you in his life.
But if he hadn't, if only years ago he had spoken, maybe you would have been with him now, between his arms. Instead, not only he hadn’t noticed anything, but he also had pushed you away into Max's arms with his attitude. He had hurt and let you down, something he promised himself he would never have done. I didn't really deserve you, Pierre thought and as the days passed he was more and more convinced of it.
What a fool he had been. He had only wasted his time chasing all those girls in hopes of making you jealous. And by doing that he had lost you, the only person who really counted for him. 
Everything he had done he had done for you because he wanted to make you proud, he wanted to be the best in your eyes. But then the success had overwhelmed him and at one point he had let himself be carried away by everything. In the end, that had taken him away from you. But without you, all those things – money, success and victories – meant nothing, if you weren't by his side to share them. He only wanted you, yet he had failed in everything.
Too busy with his thoughts, it took him a few seconds to realize his cell phone was ringing. Someone was calling him. He looked at his cellular to see who it was. Even though Pierre wasn’t in the mood to talk, he still accepted the videocall. He knew that if he hadn’t answered, whoever it was would have continued to insist. 
Charles’ face appeared on the screen of his phone.
“Hey, Charles”
“Hey, mate. Have you been on Instagram recently?”, Charles asked confirming Pierre’s theory. Charles must have seen the photos too and wanted to make sure of how his friend was. 
“Yeah, I saw the pictures.” Pierre got straight to the point. 
“So what are you doing still there?” 
“What do you mean?” Pierre knew what Charles meant but he pretended to be clueless anyway.
Charles rolled his eyes, already losing his patience. “Please, Pierre, let’s not fool ourselves. You know where she is so go and talk to her.” 
Pierre didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Since it all happened, he had thought over and over again to reach you, wherever you were. He was ready to leave at any moment and the suitcase packed in his room proved it. But how could he? Not after what he had done. Every time he was about to contact you, he felt ashamed and embarrassed. Not because he was afraid of ruining things further but because he had already done so.
“Honestly, I still don't understand why you haven't done this yet. What are you waiting for?”, Charles continued.  
Everyone, including you, was probably thinking he didn’t care about you and Pierre knew that acting like that was only making things worse. Also, the Monegasque was right, the longer he waited the more he risked losing you. But, after what he had done, Pierre thought it was already too late. For him. For you two.
“I fucked up, Charles”, Pierre simply said. That was the only sure thing.
“Yeah, I know, Pierre. Remember? I was there too.”
“No, Charles, you don’t understand. I…” 
Charles stopped him before he could have finished. “Yes, I do. What I don’t is why you aren't trying to fix things with her, why you aren’t with her now… You can still make things right with her. Or maybe that's not what you want?”
Of course, Pierre wanted to fix things with you. Ask for your forgiveness. It was just that he wasn't so sure he deserved it anymore. And if only Charles had known why, Pierre wasn't sure he would have continued to be on his side. In fact, Pierre hadn't even told Charles the truth, one of his closest friends. He was too ashamed. 
Pierre’s hands running through his hair in frustration. “Believe me, I wish I did, instead of…” 
“Instead of what?”, Charles asked, the voice had grown more serious and he was now visibly worried, as if he feared the worst.
Charles and Pierre had been friends since childhood, they raced together and therefore he knew his friend was hiding something from him, something that was consuming him. It was time to find out what it was. 
Pierre sighed, resigned. He felt dirty just thinking about it. But he needed to get rid of that burden. And if there was one person who could have helped him, that person was Charles. But to do so he had to confess his sins. 
As Charles was waiting for Pierre to talk, the French driver took a big breath and started to tell him what happened after they had parted ways that night. 
Charles had carefully listened to his friend and couldn't believe his ears. No, actually he could. Charles knew Pierre was good at messing everything up, especially with girls. As good as he was at making them fall in love with him, he was equally capable of breaking their hearts. But while many girls had been just temporary, you had always been his constant. And Charles strictly believed that you would have been the only girl Pierre would have never hurt. How wrong he was. 
Despite that and even if he was pissed off with him for what he had done, Charles knew how much Pierre loved you and especially after what you had told him – that you reciprocated his feelings too –, he couldn’t allow his friend to ruin everything even more. Charles still had to get Pierre to do something.
After what seemed like an eternity to Pierre's eyes, Charles finally spoke. “Okay, you really fucked it up this time, that’s true but I still think you can work things out. You certainly won't fix it by staying home crying. This isn't the time to give up, Pierre, rather it's time for you to finally do something, as you should have done many years ago. I'll tell you one last time: go and talk to her.”
“To tell her what? What I did?” Hands running through Pierre’s hair in frustration.
“To say that you love her too. Start with that at least and then you'll see. She must be thinking that you really don't care about her, Pierre. Is this what you really want?”, Charles asked.
The French driver shook his head. No, of course Pierre didn’t want that. He had obviously made a mess and couldn’t go back anymore, the only thing he could do was not to make things worse. Charles was right. He had to tell you what he really felt for you, at least. That was his last chance. Despite being with Max, you told him just a few days ago you loved him and your feelings couldn't have changed in such a short time. Maybe there was still hope for you two, Pierre thought. Your story could not have ended before it even began. And if it did, he would’ve at least tried to recover your friendship. That was the most important thing for him. Somehow, he had to win you back.
Looking at his friend, who was impatiently waiting, Pierre finally made up his mind and he had an idea.
“Charles?” 
“Hum?”
“I need you to do me a favor.” While Pierre told his friend about his plan, Pierre ran to his bedroom where the suitcase had been waiting for him for days and left the house as quickly as possible. 
He was coming to you. 
--------------------
Notes: Many things already happened in the first lines. Who is the reader going to marry? Who is the father of the child? Max or Pierre? What is going to happen between them? What is hiding Pierre from the reader? So many questions. What do you think? Let me know what you think.
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration. 
tags: @enjoymyloves , @ricsaigaslec , @shqwqrma
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paddockbunny · 1 year
Note
Your comments about Pierre have me wanting a Pierre oneshot from you!!!
The Moustache Test Drive
Summary: Pierre finally gave into you and grew in the moustache to his beard…but he wants you to “test drive” it to make sure it stays Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader Word Count : 1,793. Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult content, adult language, oral female receiving, slight fingering, slightly rough action 💞Authors Note : Seeing as Mr Gasly hasn’t given us any gif worthy clips of his delicious new addition (if he still indeed has it) then we’ll roll with this hot af one ✌🏼
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You buzzed with excitement. It wouldn’t be long till you were off the plane and back with your new boyfriend to celebrate the New Year. You had only properly been dating Pierre for the past three months and everything was still new and thrilling. And while you felt like you were in a fast paced, blissful haze you also felt strangely settled and content with him. All of your friends back home were right though when they told you not to get ahead of yourself and just take the moments as they came. You knew he had a bit of a history with short term relationships (and being a massive flirt) so knew to keep things at a nice steady pace instead of jumping head first into things. But none the less, as soon as the wheels of your plane touched down in Dubai you couldn’t contain yourself.
Pierre text you as soon as you were off the plane and heading toward the first class luggage reclaim area to get your luggage (as Pierre had booked your seat for you he spared no expense) to tell you that he was waiting for you in the arrivals hall. You were so eager to get through and get your hands on him. You had last seen him two weeks ago and yet you were addicted to him your fingers tingled for wanting to be on his skin.
While the lovely man from the airline pushed your multiple bags for you on a trolley you broke out into a gigantic smile when you saw him. Pierre was standing there waiting for you with a smile on his own face too. And then something just grasped hold of you and you broke into a slow sprint to get to him quicker. And when you reached him his arms engulfed you and you were lifted clean off your feet. “Fuck, I’ve missed you!” He sighed as he held your body to his. All you could think of was how it felt to be back in his energy and how strong his body felt around you. As Pierre lowered you back to your feet you needed his lips on yours, you craved it above all else. Your hand went to the back of his head and he got the hint but right as his lips touched yours something was different and you immediately pulled your head away to check. “Pierre!” You gasped and he looked at you with mocked confused as to why you had stalled. “What is that?” It came out of your mouth without even thinking but it wasn’t because you were appalled it was because it was amusing and you realised he had listened to your pleas. “Oh! This?” He tan his fingers over the newly formed hair filling the space between his upper lip and his nose. “I’m trying it out….my girlfriend begged me.” He did that signature Gasly smirk and cheeky tongue thing that drove you wild. “I didn’t beg you.” You playfully tried to correct him but he wasted no time putting his hand around your neck and pulling you back into him. “We can debate that later, just shut up and let me kiss you.” And so you did. And he did. And it was fucking perfect.
It didn’t take long till you were both back in Pierre’s suite. He stood watching as the hotel porters unloaded your luggage from the bellhop trolley in slight amazement and dumbfounded-ness. “Mon Amour, are you on vacation or moving in?” And you rolled your eyes. You had over packed - yes, that was true - but you wanted to look good for him and he hadn’t told you anything about what this Dubai trip would entail so you wanted to be prepared for every eventuality. You had enough bikinis to last the full two weeks and also plenty for activities outfits like sand-dunning and (god forbid) if he wanted to jump out of a plane and skydive. Glancing at the cases you figured at least you would always be dressed appropriately. After Pierre shook the palm of the porters hands - tipping them generously - they left the suite which finally left the pair of you alone, you immediately thought of the moustache again.
“So what made you give in?” Asking him playfully while removing your sweatshirt and catching a glimpse of the newly formed upper lip invader. He turned to you but didn’t comprehend what you were referring too till you rubbed your top lip. With an exhale and a joking eye roll he told you; “Well, this really beautiful but kind of annoying girl said I looked like a baby wolverine and I guess I want to be the full grown, wolverine that gets to do this….” The whole time he had been speaking he closed the space between the pair of you and without a shred of hesitation he grabbed you round the waist and shoved you forcefully - but in a super hot way that made a gasp leave your body - against the wall to the side of you. An agreeable “hmm” purred from way down deep inside your body as you adjusted to having your back flat against the cool, cold wall. From Pierre’s expression you knew the noise you had just made pleased him immensely.
“I think you need to take it for a test drive.” He hummed. His eyes flickering down to your lips before falling lower to where your chest was heaving in your sports crop. “What do you mean?” You sort of knew what he was hinting at - it was one of the main reasons you really wanted him to grow it in the first place - but you liked the feral side that came out in Pierre when you acted so innocent with him. Without one single moment of indecision Pierre grinned smugly before slowly getting on his knees before you. You tried to regain control of your breathing because it had become erratic as soon as Pierre’s fingers hooked under the waistband of your leggings and began to pull them down. He paused for a second to pull your trainers off and finished getting you out of the sage green tight Lycra. You whimpered his name when the slightly rough pads of his fingertips ran up and down your thighs but his eyes were on the prize and he was laser focused. Intently you watched him as he reached for your simple thin thong and just as he had done with your leggings he pulled it down your legs tantalisingly slowly. Pierre’s hand then firmly went to the backside of your thigh and your eyes left left him as he repositioned himself and put your leg over his shoulder, his mouth now tormentingly close to where you were desperate to feel him.
Pierre worked quickly. After fleetingly glimpsing up to you he ran his index and forefinger up and down your dampening folds before finally he stopped teasing and parted you. Pierre’s tongue then swiped over your sensitive bundle of nerves in one featherlight and slow, so painfully slow, stripe. You sighed as he continued driving you insane by taking his time with you. The tip of his tongue stroking up and down, up and down. The pressure wasn’t enough and you were sure you hadn’t breathed since Pierre began this torture so your shoved your hand through his hair to urge him to step it up a notch. Which he did. He took your hint and sealed his mouth around your now aching, pulsating clit and sucked strongly. The action made a full shiver rack through you and you it made a sound of sheer pleasure roll from the back of Pierre’s throat, as if he was devouring his favourite meal. You mentally thanked your body for its response because Pierre gripped hold of your butt and made sure you got all the strength of his tongue. Your breath caught in your throat as his name was teetering on the tip of your tongue but he surprised you by pulling away and looking at your pussy, glistening with a mixture of your wet arousal and his saliva. He clearly admired it for a moment before he delved back in and this time his tongue went lower and this time you felt the moustache graze against your sensitive little bundle. “Fuck!” You gasped, unable to hold it back anymore. You wanted him to know how good it was, how good he was, his good his tongue was. Your fingers tangled into his hair and pulled on it so he knew how badly you wanted more. Which he gladly gave you but all you could think of was the new sensation of his moustache. The slight prickly sting against your fleshy bud was a reminder of all the begging you did weeks ago to get Pierre to stop shaving his upper lip. It wasn't a selfish move - be truly looked better with it and it completed his beard - but fuck, as he was close to making you climax you mentally thanked yourself for being so relentless.
However, it was Pierre that was the relentless one now and he really stepped on the gas and accelerated all of the movements he was making. Short, longing licks were replaced by merciless lapping of his tongue and you had been so focused on the feel of the upper lip addition that you missed him adding his fingers into play. You had become a panting, quivering mess by the time your orgasm was hammering down on top of you and you were struggling to hold out. The attempt really was futile because Pierre hummed against you and his fingertips found the fleshy mound inside of you and grazed it repeatedly. And that was it. You were gone in seconds. You came so hard that the leg that was holding you up almost gave way. Your body vibrated as Pierre brought you to the edge and pushed you over it. You orgasmed so hard that you would testify to seeing stars in front of your eyes, they were clamped that tightly shut. And he lapped up all of the juicy mess that you made. He always praised you and claimed you were his favourite taste in the world and it was no different now. The only difference was when Pierre sat back on his knees and your leg fell from his shoulder you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the look of him. His moustache was glistening, coated in the product of your orgasm.
“Is it staying?” He was so arrogant in the way he asked you but in the come down of your high you shakily laughed
“It is absolutely staying.”
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maryleclerc · 7 months
Text
𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 — chapter: 00
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pairing: driver!pierre gasly x princess!reader
their relationship: both are friends with charles leclerc
request: yes
warning: poor english, use google translate, one-side love, social media au, smau!. if you don’t like this, you can pass 🫶 thank u!!
summary: will the young f1 driver of the alpine team win the princess of france heart with his kindness? will y/n realize the sincerity from the bottom of pierre's heart…
this is not a main chapter yet, i’ll post it soon
chapter: 0/3
y/n.salvatore (cre: handemiyy)
Princess Y/n Salvator of France
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pierregasly
Formula 1 driver for Alpine, divorce once, secretly have a crush on the Princess of France
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tierneysodegaard · 2 years
Text
Dirty Secrets - Pierre Gasly x reader - Part Three
Read Part Two here
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Pierre Gasly x female!reader
Summary: Summary: Being the golden girl of Mercedes was easy when your dad was Toto Wolff. You’d been his Personal Assistant for a while with no problems until Pierre Gasly started to sneak around with you. Toto would kill him if he found out he was sleeping around with his daughter. Let’s just hope you have a good concealer to hide those marks Pierre leaves on your neck every night.
Word Count: 4K
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of friends passing, religious talk (Christianity), cocky Pierre??? Smut 18+++ (wrap it before you tap it kids), swearing
You couldn’t quite believe he’d managed to find your address. If there was anyone who could find your address it would be Pierre. He was a cocky little shit who always seemed to get what he wanted and here he was getting exactly what he wanted, you. 
He didn’t take long to respond, no surprise there. 
Pierre: It suits you x
You: You haven’t seen it on me yet x
Pierre: Yet x
You: How did you find my address? X
Pierre: Being a driver has its perks x
You: Tell me Gasly x
Pierre: Told Lewis you’d left something of yours at mine and that you would need it back before you got home. Asked if I could have your address to send it and well, he evidently gave it to me x
You: Little shit x
Pierre: You would have complained if I’d given it to you in person x
You: True but I still have to hide it x
Pierre: It’s just underwear x
You: With your fucking name on it x
Pierre: So? X
You: So I’ll be killed if they find it x
Pierre: You are an adult you know x
You: I’m aware but it’s still the name of an F1 driver that happens to drive for a rival team x
Pierre: Makes things more exciting x
You: You’re not wrong there x
Pierre: Have you tried them on yet? X
You: Nope x
Your eyes went back to the box, the material was staring you straight in the face. You had to try them on. Sure it would boost Pierre’s ego when he saw you in them or even if he knew you were wearing them but it was so pretty not too besides, maybe you liked the idea of his name on your underwear. 
Throwing off the clothes you had on you held the dainty material up to the light, smiling as it seemed to dance in your hand, eager to be worn. With caution, you stepped into the material. It clung to your body perfectly. Pierre had taste that’s for sure. The colour complimented you perfectly. The lace material was dotted with flowers in the Alphatauri colours, his name was carefully embroidered with a deep red colour, making it stand out against the lace. It was beautiful. The bra pushed your boobs up, not enough to be a push-up bra but enough to draw attention to them from the right eyes. 
You didn’t need to think twice about your next move. Waltzing over to the mirror you captured a photo of yourself in the stunning material and sent it to Pierre. 
Pierre: Jesus you’re trying to kill me x
Pierre: God you look so beautiful, promise me you’ll wear it when we’re back at work? X
You: We’ll see Gasly x
— 
When Pierre sent you that lingerie set you thought that would be the end of your conversation and that the pair of you would wait until the week you returned to the track to talk and get into one another's pants again but you were wrong. Pierre continued to text you throughout the weeks, asking how your day was and what your plans were. You found yourself smiling at his texts, something you were thankful that Toto didn’t pick up on. 
The next race was being held at the Red Bull Ring, you wouldn’t tell your Dad this but the track was pretty and decent for the straights. Something you needed Mercedes to thrive on if you wanted them to win. 
Since your little lie about Lewis, Toto kept you close and rather busy. Always getting him coffee and gathering his paperwork for meetings. He was clearly stressed about this race, Red Bull would evidently want to win considering it was the Red Bull Ring. 
“They’ll be fine.” You sat alongside your dad in the garage. The race was set to start, drivers were getting ready to get into their cars and start their formation lap. “You know they will.”
“I know.” Toto leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he huffed. “I just don’t want them to take any unnecessary risks, you know Verstappen will.”
“You can’t accuse him of things when it hasn’t happened yet, not to mention he's not the only one who’s taken unnecessary risks, both Lewis and Valtteri have done it before, more than once.”
“Defending Red Bull all of a sudden?” He arched his brows in confusion at you. “Why the sudden change?”
“Because we should stay neutral and even you know that.” You sent him a look. “If you get caught slating Red Bull you’ll be in the shit.”
He let out a light chuckle before turning the screen before him. “You’re learning.” 
“Doesn’t take a genius to work that out.” Winking you followed his actions and looked back at the screen before you both, putting your headset on as Lewis and Valtteri got into their cars. Your eyes glanced to the track outside and you caught the gaze of Pierre Gasly. He smirked your way as he walked to his car, not caring if anyone was looking at the two of you. 
Eventually, you tore your gaze away from him. You were yet to spend time with him, Toto had made you far too busy to even think about sleeping with him. He’d been texting you as much as he could, he even called you one night when you were in your hotel room, that way Toto or Susie couldn’t hear the French man on the other line. The thing that stuck out to you was that most calls didn’t turn sexual. He always just wanted to sit there and have a conversation with you whether it be about the race or just life in general. 
Maybe he didn’t just want to sleep with you. 
The race had started. Hamilton got a good start, pulling away from Verstappen as the two Ferrari's collided with one another breaking the rear wing of Vettel’s car, meaning both Ferrari's had to retire their cars. Your eyes kept flicking over to see where Pierre was, he wasn’t doing as well as you had hoped he would be. Hoping he got into the top ten so that your Dad would take notice of him, maybe it would ease the anger if he ever found out what the two of you were up to. 
In the sixty-sixth lap, Valtteri had to defend Max as best he could but Max wasn’t going to back down easily. The pair weren’t giving up and that pissed your Dad off. 
“Fucking prick just let him pass -”
“Bottas will overtake him on the straights, he has pace and if he does he just needs to keep it up until the end and that way he’ll get second.” You hit back. “They’re racing, calm down.” 
Susie let out a laugh at your words. “You can tell she’s your daughter, no one would dare tell you to calm down.” 
“He needs to learn.” You smiled back at her before turning to Toto. “They’ll be fine.” You kept a smile on your lips. “They know what they’re doing.” 
You were right. Bottas managed to hold off Max and secured second whilst Max secured third with Lewis taking P1. Meanwhile, Pierre had finished fifteenth, something you knew he wouldn’t be happy about and your facial expression mirrored that. 
“What’s wrong with you?” Toto asked, taking his headset off. 
“Nothing.”
“You look like someone just slapped you across the face.”
“A man of many compliments Dad, thank you.” You followed his actions and started to take off to the podium. “I’m fine.”
“You know if there is something on your mind you can tell me.” He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as he kissed the top of your head. 
“I know.” You smiled up at him as the pair of you walked together. 
You’d been left by your Mum not long after you’d been born which meant Toto was left to raise you whilst he tried to balance his career. You had grown up around cars, your home was basically the tracks so it really isn’t a surprise you wanted to go into Formula 1. You had albums full of photos of you and Toto on the tracks and photos of you celebrating your birthday with him and other engineers throughout the years. 
Being around just Toto for all of your life meant you and him were extremely close. He’d taught you everything you knew and not only was he your father but he was your best friend. Even when he married and had children he always put you first, he never wanted you to feel like you were pushed aside when he moved on with his life. He would always put you first, no matter what. So much so that he asked you to stay and complete some work in his office which took you longer than usual. 
A knock at the door grabbed your attention as you filled out some paperwork, presuming it was your Dad you allowed them to come in, only that it wasn’t Toto or any Mercedes worker at the matter, it was Pierre. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped at the sight of him, getting up and slamming the door shut so no one could see you both. 
“Came to see you obviously.” He spoke like it was evident. “I haven’t seen you all weekend.” 
“Dad has me slaving away over all this paperwork.” You huffed, throwing yourself down on his desk chair, gesturing to the piles of paper on the desk. “How did you know I was here?”
“Overheard Toto ask if you could finish things up, I stayed in the garage waiting to see if you’d finish rather fast and well, you didn’t, so I came to check up on you.”
“Who knew Pierre Gasly could be so sweet?” You mocked him before turning back to your work. 
“I do try darling.” He stalked over to you before pulling the chair away from the desk and standing between it. “I’m glad you liked your set too.”
“You have taste Gasly.”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
“Well done today.” 
“For what?” He arched his brow. 
“The race.”
“I was shit.” He huffed. “Fifteenth isn’t what I’m aiming for.”
“Better than not finishing.” 
He let out a small smile. “You have a point.” He looked down at you, his eyes scanning your body before going back to your eyes. “You look beautiful today although the shirt looks a bit shit.” He smirked at the sight of your Mercedes shirt. 
“I must admit yours feels nicer.” You smirked back at him. 
“You still have it?” 
“Of course,” Your smirk grew. “What else would I sleep in?” 
“So you’ve slept in my shirt every single day after I gave it to you?” 
“Well yeah, other than when I had to wash it which is a shame because it no longer smells like you.” 
“I’ll give you another whilst I wash and spray the other with my cologne.”
“At that point, I’ll have an entire collection.” 
“And would you complain?”
“Never.” As you spoke Pierre leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. He deepened it slightly but never in a lustful way. If anything it was a loving kiss that part of you longed to feel again. 
Pierre didn’t make any sexual advances toward you as you worked He just sat on the edge of the desk, watching as you worked and asking you questions about the photos of you in Toto’s office. 
“What about this one?” He pointed to a frame that included a photo of you holding Jack when he was born. 
“That was when Jack was born, Susie and Toto’s son.” You smiled warmly at the photo, something Pierre noticed. “He’s one of four.”
“Four?” 
“Hmm, altogether there are four of us, I’m the oldest and Toto had two children in his previous marriage and one with Susie.”
“Did you ever get on well with the other two?” 
“I did but not like Jack.” You smiled. “Jack is more like a sibling than the others, he always finds a way to annoy yet make me smile. He’s a good kid.”
“You seem close with him.” Pierre smiled as you spoke. 
“I am, Susie too but I think I’m too old to call her Mum.” The pair of you let out small laughs at your words. 
“I dunno she might appreciate it.” Pierre shrugged before turning to the next frame. “What about this one?” He pointed to a photo of you and Toto in fits of laughter at his wedding. You smiled back at the memory before speaking. 
“So when Toto married Susie she asked me to be her maid of honour but Toto wanted me to be his best man so I went to the wedding in a bridesmaid dress with a suit jacket over the top to give the signature best man look and then took it off throughout the night so I could still look like a bridesmaid that wasn’t stealing her father's jacket and in that photo, he told me it would be my wedding next and well, from the photo you can tell I didn’t believe him.” 
Pierre smiled alongside you as you finished. “That’s really cute.” He took a second to think. “You know Charles and I always used to argue who would be best man at Anthoine’s wedding.” You saw the sadness in his eyes as he mentioned his good friend. “We always said we’d see who won a Championship first and go from there, or flip a coin.” 
“He’d be so proud of you.” 
Pierre was thankful for your words, he always was ever since you found him crying outside the Red Bull garage that weekend. It was the worst weekend of his life yet he still managed to crack a smile in your presence, something he’d never forget. 
“I hope he would be.”
“I know he would be.” You took his hand into yours, swiping your thumb across the top. Pierre took his hand into yours and pulled it up to his lips, planting a kiss on the back. 
“Thank you.” 
“You don’t need to thank me Gasly.” 
“I do.” He paused as he kept his eyes on you. “That weekend was the worst weekend of my life and I felt so alone. I felt like I had no one. I prayed to God that he would help me and as I muttered that I felt someone wrap their arms around me, never thought God would send me a Mercedes girl.” 
“I have been told I can be an angel.” You smiled. 
“Well my angel, you certainly aren’t in the bedroom, more of a devil in there.” Pierre winked as a sudden knock at the door made the pair of you lose your grip on one another. 
“y/n?” It was Toto. 
“Shit!” You whisper yelled at Pierre as the French man jumped off of your Dad’s desk. “One second!” You called back, scanning the room for Pierre to hide somewhere. Your eyes landed on the tall cupboard which Toto used to store old papers and random things he had no place for. “Get in there -”
“How the fuck do you expect me to fit?” Pierre snapped back. 
“It’s tall enough!”
“There’s not enough room!”
“Then make room!” You shoved the driver into the cupboard, slamming the door shut before calling back out to Toto. “Come in!” 
“Are you okay?” He met your gaze, a confused look plastered across his face. 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Could have sworn I heard you talking to someone.” 
“Probably just me talking to myself about this work.” You sent him a reassuring smile. “Is there something you need?”
“It’s getting late, Susie and I are going to head to dinner in about half an hour if you want to join us?”
“Sure!” You answered a little too quickly and perhaps a little too enthusiastically, just wanting Toto to leave so you could let Pierre out of the cupboard. “I’ll umm… be ready soon, I’ve just gotta clean up these papers and I’ll come back to the hotel and meet you both.”
“Perfect.” He smiled. “Don’t be long.” 
“I won’t!” You called after him as he shut the door. As the door clicked Pierre fell from the cupboard in a fit of laughter as he lay on the floor, his leg still tangled within the shelves. “Pierre!” You yelled at him but your laughter took over. 
“You really stumble over your words when you get nervous.” He smiled up at you. “It’s cute.”
“Yeah well, maybe I wouldn’t stumble over my words if there wasn’t a French driver hiding in my Dad’s office.” You smiled as you held your hand out for him to take so you could help him up. Pierre smirked at the gesture, he grabbed your hand and pulled you down to the floor with him. You landed on his chest, surprised that he didn’t hurt himself at the force he pulled you down. 
“Thirty minutes…” He smirked. “That’s plenty of time…” 
“You’re really going to fuck me in my Dad’s office?” 
“I’d fuck you over one of the cars if I could.” 
“You could easily do that…”
“Oh yeah?” He leaned in closer, cupping your jaw as he spoke. “Maybe we should try it out one day.” With a smirk, you pushed him fully onto his back before straddling him. 
“If you’re brave enough for that Gasly.” You took off your shirt revealing the bra he’d bought you. 
“Fuck…” His hands ran up your sides, his fingers tracing the material. “You’re so gorgeous.” 
“I know.” Your confidence made Pierre smile as you leaned down and took your lips into his. Pierre kissed you with urgency, his hips bucking up into yours as his hands went to your hair, deepening the kiss. His bottom lip tugged yours, slipping his tongue inside as you moaned at his advances. You started to grind down onto him, only making him want you more. 
“Come on mon amour, we don’t have long…” Pierre pulled back and removed his shirt, discarding it alongside yours before helping you take off your jeans. Pierre thought he’d died and gone to heaven when he saw you were wearing the matching underwear, the underwear with his name on it. “You are going to be the death of me…”
You leaned in and started to tug on his ear before moving to kiss his jawline. “Well if you go to heaven I’m sure your angel will be there waiting to greet you and if you go to hell well… your devil will be there to welcome you too.” 
“You were made for me.” Pierre connected his lips back to yours as he sat up, wrapping his hands around your body. “Go sit on the desk.” You jumped off his lap before sliding onto the desk. Pierre discarded his trousers as he walked towards you, only in his boxers as he pushed everything off the desk. You watched as the papers and photos fell to the floor. 
“You know I have to clean that all up -”
“No, you won’t.” He kissed your lips. “You go to dinner and I’ll clean.”
“And if you get caught?”
“I won’t.” He started to kiss down your neck before speaking again. “My name looks so good on your skin.”
“Might have to get another set.” You teased him. “I have a few in mind…” 
“Surprise me next time.” He winked as he pulled your underwear aside. “Too pretty to fuck you without them on. His fingers started to tease your clit causing your head to fall back against the wall, letting out a small moan at his actions. “God, you’re so wet…”
“Hard not to be when you’re around.” 
Pierre smirked as he took off his boxers. Lining himself up he held your jaw in his hands so he could watch your eyes widen as he sunk himself into you. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling. “That’s my good girl… taking me so well…” 
“Fuck…” You whispered out. “Pierre please fuck me…” That was all he needed to continue, Pierre would normally start off slow, well he did last time but considering he didn’t have the entire night to fuck you he didn't waste any time. He slammed his hips into you, forcing you back into the wall. 
His hands went to your throat and hips, fucking you at a steady pace whilst he made you look at him. He loved looking straight at you whilst your mind started to fog as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept a fast pace as he moved his hand away from your throat and down to your clit, toying with it as he did before, only adding to your pleasure.
“My name looks so good on you.” He picked the pace up. “Such a dirty girl with my name on your skin knowing I drive for the rival team… not to mention you sleep in my clothes every night. God, I wish you were with me every night.” 
“You’d never sleep if I was with you.” You moaned out as you felt that familiar feeling build in your stomach. 
“A small price to pay to experience heaven every day.” He started to kiss up to your neck, biting down gently, making you jump every time his teeth met your skin which only encouraged him. 
“Don’t leave marks -”
“Why not?” He smiled against your skin. “I need the grid to know that you’re mine.” 
“I have to go to dinner soon -”
“And? Those waiters who hit on you might think twice when they see who you belong to.” Pierre bit down, the sudden pain made your hands run through his hair, tugging at the strands as you bucked your hips into him. The sensation made him hiss against your skin, you could tell he was close and you were too. 
“Pierre I’m close…”
“I know.” He whispered back, his head moving from your neck as he took in the fresh new mark on your neck, displayed for everyone to see since the other had healed. “You gonna cum all around me baby?”
“Yes Pierre fuck…” Your head fell back put Pierre threaded his hands through your hair pulling your face down to look at him. 
“Cum for me then.” He connected his lips with yours as you came around him, moaning as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer as he fucked you through your high. As you finished Pierre came, you could have sworn you’d cum again just at his light moans and the feeling of him finishing inside of you. 
He rested his head in the crook of your neck, still inside of you as your nails traced his back. “I want to go again…” He whispered. 
“You know I can’t.”
“I know.” He pulled out of you slowly as he straighten up, pushing your underwear back in place. “Wear them to dinner like that.”
“You’re too cocky Gasly.” 
He let out a light chuckle at your reply. “You’re still here so you must like it.”
“Only you can get away with it.” You pecked his lips before jumping off the desk and gathering your clothes. “As much as I’d like to fuck again I have to go.” You glanced at the clock. “I’m already late.” 
“Text me when you’re done?” 
“Needy are we Gasly?” You smirked as you got dressed. Pierre followed suit, getting dressed before walking over to you. He grabbed your hips and pulled them into his. 
“I’m the needy one? You moan my name like it’s the last thing you’ll ever say besides,” His hand moved your jaw closer to his. “You beg for it.” He kissed you before stepping back. “Every single time.” 
Taglist: @honeybadger03​ @unicornfairytail​
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Read Part Four here
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