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formulapierre · 5 months

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If You Love Her | Pierre Gasly

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader

Prompt : Based off of the song 'If you love her' by Forest Blakk. You finally decide to give Pierre your everything and you get his everything in return, except the universe seems to have other plans.

Warnings: Life changing injuries; Any other language apart from English was done by google translate, apologies for anything incorrect x

Word Count: 5261

Song: If you love her - Forest Blakk

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it

“I'm ready to let you in,” You say, you had been guarding your heart for months now; scared, no, terrified of being betrayed again by someone who told you they loved you.

“Then let me in cherie,” He says with a smile as he gently cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you…” You say. He had said it a few weeks ago, assuring you there was no pressure for you to say it back. You had met through a mutual friend, that being your ex-boyfriend, who at one point in time had been Pierre’s best friend. Though after seeing everything He had done to you and seeing how damaged you were; both of you decided never to speak of him again.

“I love you too,” He says softly, bringing you in for a gentle kiss. “So much,” He adds, causing you to blush. You were then, and still are now, surprised that someone like him could love someone like you.

Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have

“You need to leave,” Pierre said calmly to the guy who had been pounding on the door to your apartment for the last ten minutes, adamant on talking to you.

“Mate, just let me talk to her,” He said, voice holding strong.

“She doesn’t want you here, and neither do I,” Pierre replies, looking over at your tear-stained face as you sit on the couch. “Cherie, go into our bedroom, you don’t need to hear any of this,” He says and you quickly follow his advice.

“Just go home, neither of us are opening the door for you. Y/N Is gone, she can’t hear you,” He tells your ex-boyfriend who was still adamant on seeing you.

“Ma-,” Your Ex goes to say before Pierre cuts him off.

“I’m not your ‘mate’ anymore. And I’m fed up now, I just want to go and make sure Y/N’s ok, so I’ll put this plainly for you. If you don’t leave in the next 30 seconds, I will call the police,” He said bluntly. There’s one last bang on the door before it all goes quiet. Pierre pulls up the security feed from the camera outside the door and sees your Ex begrudgingly walking back towards the elevators. He sighs in relief as the camera loses sight of him. Pierre quickly makes his way into your bedroom and finds you curled up underneath a mound of blankets.

“Hi cherie, it’s just me,” He says getting onto the bed next to you. You almost immediately turn over and cuddle into his chest. “What do you need?” He asks, wanting more than anything to take this feeling away

“I just need you to hold me,” You say as you cling to the shirt he was wearing, not wanting him to leave you.

“I can do that” He says with a smile as he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you.

She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets

Yourinstagram

Liked by PierreGasly and 391,683 others...

yourinstagram Life lately...

yourbestfriend People either want to be you, or be with you 🤩

PierreGasly Missing you Cherie <3

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Pierre had been gone for what felt like ages, in reality it had only been a few weeks and you had facetimed each other most nights. Falling asleep next to each other was something you had both become very accustomed to. You knew his flight arrived in the small hours of the morning into Malpensa Airport and he made you promise that you wouldn’t wait up for him. You had settled into bed slightly later than you normally would, opting for one of your favourite movies and eventually falling asleep.

You didn’t hear the front door to the apartment as he came in. Drop his suitcases and carry on by the door before heading straight for your bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and got undressed before slipping into bed next to you. You had fallen asleep facing his side of the bed, wanting to see him when he got back and luckily you did. As the bed dipped and he moved closer to you, you slowly woke up; arms instantly reaching out for him as he made himself comfortable.

“Missed you whilst you were away” You say as He wraps his arms around you.

“I missed you too Cherie,” He says, kissing the top of your head.

“Glad you’re finally home,” You add sleepily as you cuddle into him, resting your head on his chest as he pulls the sheets over you both.

“-and I’m not going anywhere,” He says as you fall back to sleep, just as quickly as you woke up.

She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV

It had been a fairly productive day on your part, you had mailed a letter to your Grandma, sent a package to your Aunt with birthday presents for your niece and nephew and gone grocery shopping. You were slightly surprised when you found the apartment unlocked; cursing at yourself as you had evidently forgotten to lock it. You turned the handle and pushed the door open with your foot as you had grocery bags in your hands.

“I can help,” Pierre says coming out of the kitchen and taking some of the bags from your hands,

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a pleasantly surprised smile on your face. He must have been back a while as the living room was now tidy and He was in the process of doing the kitchen. Music was playing in the background, though it wasn’t his music, it was yours…

“I took the day off,” He says as you put the bags down on the kitchen counter; He takes you into his arms and you both start to sway to the music. “I thought we could start the new season of that reality tv show you watch,” He adds, spinning you round. “Oh, and I picked up that album you’ve been listening to on vinyl,” He says as you both dance around the kitchen.

There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment

‘Good Morning, mon cherie, i woke up early this morning so have decided to get a quick gym session in before we leave; i won’t be too long and then i'll bring you breakfast in bed. Maman isn’t expecting us until 11 so we’ve got a couple hours before we need to catch our flight. I can’t wait for you to see what I got you.

I love you more than you’ll ever know , P x

Pierre certainly delivered on his promise as the next time you saw him He had breakfast in hand, both of your bags packed next to the closet door as He got back into bed. You spent an hour in bed together before you had to get up and get ready to go. You had been looking forward to Christmas with Pierre’s family for months, slightly disappointed that you weren’t going to see your family until the 27th.

She loves hеr whole family and all of her friends So if you'rе the one she lets in

The jet touched down at the airport in Paris, a rental car waiting for us on the tarmac as we grabbed our bags. The drive from here to Rouen was pretty good and didn’t take too long so before You knew it you were pulling into the driveway. You could already see everyones cars parked up and there looked to be a few more than usual but you just chalked it up to Pierre having a large family and maybe there were a few more cousins joining you this year.

Pascale had spotted you as you drove down the driveway so was already on the doorstep waiting for you. She wrapped her arms around you both, telling you how much she had missed you. Even though she had seen you a few weeks ago at the Abu Dhabi GP she acted like she hadn’t seen you in years.

You were quickly ushered inside and out of the cold, as you were hanging your coat up you thought you saw someone you recognised, you thought it was your Mum…you laughed to yourself knowing there was no way it could have been her…must have been Pierre’s other cousins that parked their cars outside. Everyone was sitting around the fireplace watching a movie whilst Pascale and Pierre’s sister in law cooked christmas dinner.

“Uncle P!” His niece shouted when she saw him. Scrambling to get up and run into his arms, the other children quickly followed, they didn’t forget about you either. Pierre’s youngest niece is almost being more excited to see you. Then you thought you saw her again…and your Dad sat next to each other on the far couch, smiling back at you.

“Mum? Dad?” You ask and your Mum quickly comes over to you. “What are you guys doing here?” You ask looking between them.

“Pierre called, said you were annoyed you wouldn’t be seeing us today and that you wished you could have a huge family christmas so He invited us. I hope that’s alright?” She asks and you quickly nod.

“That's more than alright,” You reply, pulling her in for another hug. Growing up with no siblings or cousins, Christmas was always very quiet so you loved the years you were at Pierre’s with his entire family.

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her

PierreGasly

Liked by AlpineF1 and 891,183 others...

PierreGasly Christmas dumpp

yourdad Thanks for having us!

yourinstagram You are literally the loml 😍

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“You’re incredible you know that,” You say as you drive back towards the airport. It had been a busy few days with His family and you were glad you were finally heading home. You had made some amazing memories and it would be a Christmas you’d never forget.

“I’m glad you liked it Cherie,” Pierre said, squeezing your thigh lightly as he rested his hand there.

“No-one's ever done anything as thoughtful as that before…it really means a lot to me,” You say honestly.

“They should have done, you deserve the world Y/N,” He replies and you lace your fingers into his.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

yourinstagram

📍 Bahrain International Circuit, Bahrain

Liked by PascaleGasly and 501,183 others...

yourinstagram Tell a friend, to tell a friend...WE'RE BACKKKK!!!!!!!!

Unknown1 Pierre and Y/N are my roman empire

Unknown2 We've been waiting far too long for this...

WaGsF1 The 'IT' couple are backk!

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“-fuck!” Pierre shouts as he pulls his helmet off, he crosses the garage not sparing you a glance. He had collided with Alonso on the first corner, suffering too much damage so they had to retire the car. Honestly, a rookie mistake. But any little thing always caused Pierre to spiral. You gave him a few moments to calm down before you left your seat and headed towards his driver's room. As you walked in his race suit was strewn over the couch, fireproofs on the floor and boxers by the bathroom door. The sound of the shower was the giveaway.

You picked up his clothes, putting them into the laundry bag in the corner. He came out a few moments later, towel wrapped around his waist.

“I don’t know why I bother anymore,” He says to you as he uses another towel to dry his hair. “I’m not fucking good enough, this is my 7th season, I should not be making stupid mistakes like that,” He adds, collapsing onto the couch next to you.

“You are good enough Pierre, they wouldn’t have signed you if they didn’t think so,” You remind him.

“There were so many other people that should have gotten the seat…Doohan, Pourchaire, Martins? They’d all be doing a better fucking job than I am,” He says and you lean back against the couch, your fingers moving to thread themselves between Pierre’s damp hair.

“It’s only the first race of the season…you’re not completely comfortable with the car yet. It’s fine Pierre, it happens. But you are good enough and you do deserve to be here,” You assure him.

Kiss her with passion as much as you can

You were sitting in the back of his garage, headset on as you listened to the engineer chatter, you had always been interested in that kind of thing so any opportunity you get to listen in, you always take. Pierre was also in on the conversation, standing with the group of engineers. They were wrapping up the conversation when He came over to you, pulling the headset down and letting it hang around your neck. His finger moved under your shin and he pulled you into a slow and loving kiss.

“What was that for?” You ask breathlessly a few moments after he pulled away.

“-because you’re beautiful” He replies and you blush. He presses a final kiss to your forehead before he starts to put in his ear plugs and pull his balaclava on. A wide smile on his face as he walks away from you.

And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over so she never forgets

The summer break could not have come soon enough, despite Pierre’s rocky start to the season He had managed to claw his way back, now sitting comfortably in 3rd in the drivers championship. To say it was his best season yet would be an understatement. But. All of that meant the pressure was on, and you were both starting to feel it. It was a unanimous decision that you needed a vacation and Bali was always a good idea. The flights had been booked only a few hours after the decision had been made, and ever since then you had been counting down the days.

“Are you sure this looks ok?” You ask Pierre as you get ready for a day at the beach. “You don’t think it's showing off a little bit too much?” You add as you look at yourself in the mirror. The dark green bikini you had chosen left very little to the imagination.

“Cherie you look stunning, you look beautiful in everything you wear” He assured you, coming up behind you and resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s Bali cherie, I guarantee there will be people wearing much less than you, right?” He asks, snaking his arms around your waist. “I think you look hot, and that’s all that matters,” He says as he starts to kiss your neck.

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in

yourinstagram

📍 Bali, Indonesia

Liked by Charles_leclerc and 418,386 others...

yourinstagram When in doubt, go to Bali

Unknown4 That bikini is certainly brave...

Unknown5 God I wish i was them...

Unknown6 That is much more of y/n then anyone needs to see

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“I told you I shouldn’t have worn it…have you seen the comments? Pierre, look at them,” You say to him as you hold your phone up

“They’re just jealous cherie, you looked stunning…besides, it doesn’t matter what they think does it?” He asks, taking your phone, it's quickly turned off and placed on the coffee table.

“No…” You answer as he sits down on the couch next to you

“Exactly, come here,” He says pulling you into his arms, he knew that the comments got to you sometimes, and that all he could do was reassure you that they don’t mean anything.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it

yourinstagram

📍 Singapore

Liked by yourbestfriend and 496,275 others...

yourinstagram Race day in the Lion city!

PierreGasly Doing this one for you mon amour <3

-- yourinstagram Good luck darling <3

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You felt like the word was standing still, time had slowed, your breath catching in your throat.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. Pierre had lost control, the power steering had gone and his brakes had failed. There was nothing you could do except watch as his car hurtled along the track, spinning as it hit the barrier, being flown up and into the air when it hit the curb at the wrong angle; finally coming to a stop in the tire barrier.

Where was he?

The car was a smoking wreck, why wasn’t he out by now? You could hear the faint sounds of his race engineer trying to contact him but everyone in the garage knew that would be a lost cause. Then, suddenly, almost as quickly as it had all started, there were flames. Bright, hot, burning flames exploding from the rear of the car. Your hand clutched over your mouth as you had tried to look away, Pierre’s trainer spotted you and tried to lead you away into his drivers room, but you just couldn't take your eyes off of the screen.

Why wasn’t he out?

The red flags flew the moment He had hit the barrier so half the crew were supposed to be more concerned with Esteban’s car but nobody was. They were all fixed in place, unable to move as their eyes were glued to the screens. Marshalls sprinted towards the burning wreck, fire extinguishers in hand as they started to spray down the car. You saw him. Or at least you thought they did. A hand. There it was again. Waving. One of the marshalls ran forwards, spraying the area around him. You could just about make out Pierre trying desperately to pull himself out of the cockpit. Eventually the marshalls had thrown their fire extinguishers down and went in, both of them physically pulling Pierre out.

The screens cut away.

You let Ben take you out of the garage towards a quieter area where you could try and compose yourself. “Charles is outside asking for you,” One of the media personnel said after knocking on the door. You wiped the tears from your eyes and headed out. As soon as he saw you, He quickly wrapped his arms around you and you broke down again.

She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

It had been three weeks of the same. Arriving at the hospital at 9am, just as visiting time started, leaving at 9pm, just as visiting time ended. And despite how much you hated it, you refused to be anywhere else. He had remained unconscious for the first couple of days, those had been the hardest. Not knowing if he was going to wake up, His crash had been measured at 132G, nobody expected him to. But he did.

“Y-,” He muttered, softly moving his head. “Y-,” He said again, this time catching your attention. You rushed to his side, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m right here Pierre, I’ve got you,” You say, tears rolling down your face as he faintly squeezed your hand. As you held his hand you called for the doctor, having been asked to if he woke up. They assessed him as you sat there, Pierre was very reactive to any movement you made; squeezing your hand as you shifted positions, begging you not to leave his side.

She'll love you If you love her like that

After three long weeks in a Singaporean hospital it was finally agreed that Pierre could be moved to a hospital in Paris, much closer to all of his family; you had spent another three weeks in there as Pierre underwent different operations on his legs. They had become trapped between different parts of carbon fibre and metal during the crash; the base of his spine also having been damaged. That was why He couldn’t get out.

The Hospital in Paris knew Pierre was itching to get out, that was evident to anyone that came to visit him. They released him pretty quickly and after six weeks in hospitals Pierre was finally free to go. Though he was nowhere near full health. He was in a wheelchair, unable to walk by himself. So one of the conditions of him being discharged was that you would find a place together in Paris, close to the hospital so He could attend all of his check-ups and rehab appointments.

By the second week Pierre was ready to give up. “Why are you still here?” He asked you one morning as you helped him get dressed. You knew he hated this, not being able to do things for himself.

“Because I love you,” You assured him as you handed him a shirt. Any ounce of independence he could have, you made sure to give him.

“There are many better men for you cherie, none of them need help getting dressed in the mornings. You don’t deserve this,” He said, and this wasn’t the first time He had shared this sentiment with you.

“But none of them are you, my love,” You reminded him. “I wouldn’t be doing this for anyone other than you,” You add as you put his feet through the legs of his trousers.

“T-thank you,” He says, voice faltering as you pull his trousers up his legs and over his ass.

“I’ve got you and I’ll always have you, I promise,” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips as you grab his wheelchair. Thankfully, that was the one thing He had gotten used to quickly, transferring himself in and out of the wheelchair, as that was probably the only thing you couldn’t have done.

She'll love you If you love her

He hated it, and you weren’t surprised. At the moment his sessions were only an hour long as He got tired and frustrated very quickly. You totally understood everything that was going on inside his mind. He had gone from being one of the fastest men alive to barely being able to take two steps without assistance.

Pierre had always said that He wanted you with him every step of the way, and when you promised that you would be, you really meant it. If that meant sitting in a chair on the far end of the room, so be it. He didn’t want you to help him, encourage him or anything. He hated showing you how weak he was. But you both knew He needed you there.

There were two long beams that he rested his arms onto as He tried to put one foot in front of the other. His physical therapist and rehab assistant had both assured Pierre that he had come on leaps and bounds since He first came through the door. Back then he was unable to stand up without help, but now he could get out of the wheelchair and lift himself up to hold the bars

She'll love you If you love her

You were sitting in the kitchen of your parisian apartment, working on your laptop as Pierre took a nap after his PT appointment. They always took everything out of him so the first thing He wanted to do was go to sleep. The apartment had been quiet for a few hours until you heard a crash from the bedroom. You instantly bolted from your seat and ran towards the sound; you found Pierre on the floor in the bathroom.

“-merde,” He swore as He tried to get back up. You went to help him but He pushed you away. “I don’t need your help,” He said through gritted teeth as he tried to stand back up.

“Just slow down and take a breath,” You said, repeating the words his physio had been telling him for months. He was always trying to do things at 100mph when he wasn’t capable. “Let me help you,” You say softly as you crouch down to him.

“I am so fucking fed up of slowing down,” He says and you nod, he had also been saying that for months.

“I know you are darling, but you’ll only hurt yourself more if you don’t,” You tell him as you offer your arm to him so he can stand back up. You knew why he had fallen, there was a slight lip on the doorframe to the bathroom that you had stubbed your toe on a few times, neither of you had noticed it when viewing the apartment and Pierre now had the tendency to drag his feet a little so it was bound to happen at some point.

She'll love you If you love her

Pierregasly

Liked by yourinstagram and 3,891,173 others...

PierreGasly The last 12 months have been tough. From being bed-bound to being able to take a few steps was a huge challenge; but we keep pushing forwards 👊

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The rest of the evening had been quiet, you cooked dinner for the both of you, Pierre silently taking his and eating in the study. That had been his one fault. He hated making mistakes; so tripping and falling like he did was a massive blow to his ego and dignity. He was already fast asleep by the time you went to bed, facing away from you so you just left him to it.

When you woke up you realised he wasn’t there, feeling his side of the bed you found a small yellow post-it note.

‘Don’t move, i want to surprise you and make up for yesterday

-P x

You did exactly what the note said and stayed in bed, picking up your phone and answering some messages you had gotten; about 15 minutes later the bedroom door opened, Pierre came in holding a plate and a mug. He carefully placed the mug down on the bedside table before passing you the plate that had fresh berries and pancakes on. “You didn’t have to,” You say, taking a bite and you instantly recognise that this was his own pancake recipe he used to make for you all the time.

“Yes I did,” He says, pinching a blueberry off of the side of the plate. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you, you were only trying to help,” He says with a regretful look on his face.

“You’re still entitled to your feelings Pierre,” You remind him and He nods.

“I know I am, but that shouldn’t be at your expense, I’m sorry,” He says and you pull him into a soft kiss.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it

The video starts to play, Pierre stands up from a chair across the room, walking towards the camera slowly, still slightly wobbly on his feet. “Hi Everybody, Pierre here. I know I’ve been very quiet on social media over the past eighteen months or so since the crash and that’s because I've really been focused on my recovery and the long process of learning to walk again. I wanted to tell you all what happened and that primarily, I’m ok. During the accident both my legs became trapped and I also shattered two of my lower vertebrae; that left me, for the first six months, totally paralysed from the waist down. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to my physio team who have done everything they can to get me into the position I'm in today,” He says before there is a short montage of photos showing Pierre in hospital, then in the first few stages of physiotherapy of him learning how to stand up by himself.

“I know that my journey is far from over, I’ve still got pins in my legs from where they were crushed, and only after they have been removed should I begin the road to full mobility. Whilst I've been recovering Formula One has been incredible in assisting with finding me the correct doctors to suit my injuries and keeping the door open to future plans. Y/N’s been quietly active on social media and has told me of quite a few tweets and comments about my possible return to racing and I want to clear things up. I hold absolutely nothing against Alpine, Formula One or the FIA about my accident, as it was exactly that. An accident, there was an investigation and there was nothing anybody could have done. However this does not mean I am ready or willing to return to racing; I have no plans to return to racing in the future, I feel I need to be investing more into my personal life, thanking those who have stood by me over the past two years. Y/N and I got engaged during that time so we are in the middle of wedding preparations and we could not be happier.” He continues before it cuts to more photos of the final stages of his PT and then the video of him proposing, He was still on crutches at the time and was unable to kneel but the sentiment was still there. “-And finally I want to thank all of you guys, my fans, all of your kind comments and messages are read and they really help me to get through those tough days. I probably won’t be very active on social media going forward so for now; thank you, and goodbye,” He says with a wide smile.

She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

yourinstagram and PierreGasly

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yourinstagram Mr and Mrs Gasly - 23/8/2026

PierreGasly Cant forget about Pedro! 🐶

-- yourinstagram Never!

a few years later...

“Pierre,” The interviewer started. “We are now 5 years on from your near-fatal accident, how are you doing?” She asks. The studio hadn’t changed since the last time he was filming here during his career in F1.

“I’m doing really well; I’m back to pretty much full mobility, a little stiff here and there but my wife says that's just because i’m getting old,” He says with a laugh, you roll your eyes from behind the camera.

“We all saw the photos that she posted a few weeks ago, updating your fans on your life at the moment. Tell me about that, you always hear the horror stories of partners leaving because they couldn’t cope. How much does it mean to you that She stayed?” She asked as you were slightly taken aback…that wasn’t one of the prepared questions.

“It means everything to me…there were times during my recovery where I would tell her to go, to leave me and that she didn’t deserve this. But she stayed, and I don’t think leaving was ever an option in her mind. I owe her everything and I will spend the rest of my life trying to show her how thankful I am.” Pierre answers honestly, not looking at the interviewer, but looking behind her at you as He spoke.

“I love you,” You mouth back, aware you weren’t allowed to talk out loud but he heard you, loud and clear.

“I mean you guys were the ‘it’ couple in the paddock before the accident…now i think the entire paddock is jealous of the love the both of you share, it really is beautiful to watch you two,” She tells you both.

“Have we got an extra chair?” He asks, looking over at the producers. One of the crew quickly moves a spare chair next to Pierre who stands up, holding out his hand to you. “Come join us…this is just as much your story as it is mine Cherie, I wouldn’t be here without you,” He reminds you as you cross the set to him. He presses a kiss to your forehead before you both take your seats.

finite

#f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc #formula one x reader #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fluff

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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!

masterlist

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

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #f1 pierre #f1 pierre imagines #f1 pierre x reader #f1 pierre oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot

2K notes · View notes

hey-kae · 1 year

Text

Ⓢ : Smut

Ⓐ : Angst

Ⓕ : Fluff

For drabbles, search the following tags: #cl16 , #pg10 , #mv1 , #ln4 (coming soon)

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? Ⓐ

Only Yours Ⓕ

Mini You Ⓕ

Beneath the Stars Ⓕ

Princess Treatment Ⓢ

Safe & Sound Ⓐ Ⓕ

Summer Breaks Ⓐ

Seamless Transition Ⓕ Ⓐ

Got it Through Ⓢ

Heart-shaped Everything Ⓕ

Post-victory Ⓢ

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sainzfilm · 1 year

Note

Going on vacation with pierre gasly for insta au

a/n: imagine being on a vacation…with the pierre gasly. absolutely a pipe dream i will simply just cry myself to sleep brb

taglist: @svechyaho @squderia @idkiwantchocolatee @koufaxx @melonunicornbby @myescapefromthislife @slut-era @pachiibatt @estevries @ambarlvstaylor @barzysreputation @uhhevie @mick2mercedes @dumbthotticusss @mehrmonga

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summer lovin’ - pierre gasly

instagram edit

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris, and 427,211 others

pierregasly late maldives dump with mon ange 🌴🌸

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landonorris guess yourusername is hopping along to the lando.jpg trend 😎

yourusername im so much better than daniel though

danielricciardo im certain all you’re going to post is pictures of lover boy 🤔

yukitsunoda0511 hope you had fun, pierre and Y/N!! 😊

pierregasly miss you, mate! lets go out for dinner soon 👊🏻

yukierrelover BEST FRIENDSHIP AND RELATIONSHIP ON THE PADDOCK

Liked by isahernaez, carlossainz55, and 213,483 others

yourusername film dump from the past week 🎞️📸 thank you for going on these adventures with me, lovey 💙

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danielricciardo and i stand correct 👍🏻 yn.jpg is going to be pierre through her eyes

yourusername block button looks so good right now 😋

landonorris already like a pro, Y/N 🤩

pierregasly here’s to many more adventures, baby 😘

gaslyupdates they’re so….cute im actually going to cry

pg10lovebot Y/N is literally my favorite wag now for giving us so much pierre content in one go

Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 573,372 others

pierregasly cruising through life with my girl. here’s to checking more off our list, yourusername ❤️‍🔥🗺️

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charles_leclerc so much ants over this post. happy for you, mate! 👊🏻

carlossainz55 let him be 😉 he’s in his lover boy era

landonorris no more yukierre 💔 the betrayal

yourusername yes because yuki is my best friend now, we play video games and eat sushi together

pierregasly excuse me? he was MY best friend first

yukierrelovebot we need yuki to comment who his best friend is now because this trio is the funniest thing ever

yukitsunoda0511 yourusername 😊👍🏻

pierregasly absolutely feeling the betrayal over here

danielricciardo we can be best friends, pierre 😘

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the-offside-rule · 11 months

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Pierre Gasly (Alpine) - In Secret

Requested: yes on wattpad

Prompt: Pierre and Y/n get married in secret

Warnings: no

Pierre and Y/n stood in a garden holding each others hands, reciting their vows to one another. When Pierre and Y/n initially got engaged, they didn't expect it to be such a spectacle. They didn't expect everyone to be making such a fuss out of it and trying to dig into it which threw them off the idea of getting married to be perfectly honest. It wasn't until Pierre had to leave for Bahrain that the pair had the idea; to get married in secret, no family, no friends, just them and the person who would be wedding them during the weekend of the Japanese Grand Prix. Pierre was completely in awe of the sight of youu in a wedding dress. He would have loved for everyone else to see but he knew what some fans would think or say.

The scene was perfect. A small cherry blossom tree and petals leading up. The two of you stood at the bottom of the trail of petals and let their fingers intertwine with another's. Pierre couldn't tear his eyes away from you. He got close to your ear which admittedly was quite startling because you didn't expect it. "You look beautiful in that dress." he whispered. You felt your smile grow even wider upon hearing him. "You don't look too bad yourself." you whispered back earning a light chuckle from your soon to be husband. The pair of you stood reciting your vowes, smiling like two idiots while doing so. Never in a million years did you think your wedding would be this perfect.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Pierre cupped your cheeks and lightly pulled you forward until your lips met intto a soft kiss for the first time as a married couple.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly imagine

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norrisreads · 1 year

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set fire to the rain, part one #PG10

PAIRING: pierre gasly x reader! , Charles LecLerc x reader!platonic

SUMMARY: your first love is hard to forget because it leaves an 'imprint' on the sensory areas of your brain

WARNINGS: angst, will continue a part 2 soon! Listen to the song as a background music to get the feels of it!

FC: roses_are_rosie

sometimes i wake up by the door, that heart you caught, must be waiting for you

There’s a saying that goes, “your first love is hard to forget because it leaves an 'imprint' on the sensory areas of your brain” and you’ve never believed it until you’ve experienced it.

you dated a man, that would do anything for you, that would suprise you breakfast in bed, made you feel like you’ve strike a lottery every single day, made you feel like your next could never beat this man.

But, the world is cruel because a few years later you’ve lost this man to someone who’s much worth than you are.

Even now, when we’re already over, i can’t help myself from looking for you

You’ve met through a mutual friend, some one who’s still close to you.

“I promise you y/n, you’ll like him! who knows you’re gonna finally fall in love and be in a long term relationship?” Charles was convincing you to date one of the drivers from the grid.

He was literally following every footsteps you’ve taken, usually you don’t mind his existence but here you are trying to focus on the notes placed in-front of you.

“Charles, if i wanted a relationship i would have been on hundreds and thousands of blind dates, i wouldn’t even be here right now! but im here, studying this” you sounded pissed while pointing to ur thick notes that was placed on top of the cafe table.

“Look, take a breath of fresh air, make yourself look pretty on date nights, do things you’ve never done before y/n! Live your life!” Charles was literally giving you the puppy eyes.

“Charles leclerc, i’m 4 years younger than you and i’ve an important examination that determine my career, but if doing this makes you shut the hell up, fine. Once and if this guy icks me, i’m not listening to you anymore!” You rolled your eyes jokingly, and heard charles pumping the air with a whispered ‘yes’

He snatched your mobile phone that you were holding on, and key-ed in number and letters and showed you the screen.

There on the screen was the name of your first love, pierre gasly.

Pierre Gasly, was a french man who took your breath away upon the first meeting. French wasn’t really the language you’re an expert in, even when your own best friend is monegasque. You’ve learn couple of words from charles but that’s it as both of you tend to mainly converse in english.

The whole date was not awkward at all, which comes to a surprise to you knowingly you’re a huge HUGE introvert with no social skills and from one date, to once in a few weeks dates to weekly dates and to finally being together.

In the first year of being together with pierre, nothing changed, everything was the same feeling as when you’ve met the first time. He would bring you around France whenever you’re on holidays, introducing you to his family and friends. What hits the spots is when he would bring you to places that he treasured the most.

The second year was when you’ve started to notice small changes, it started from him missing your weekly dates, not answering your calls with the excuse of him being too busy. You didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’re working while studying, your time for him wasn’t that much too, your routine while he was on season would be campus, work and sleep.

Whenever its off season, you’ll have routines where pierre and you would have picnics by the beach, pottery dates and more, but as days pass by you’ve realised how less time he has for you.

You knew something was wrong, but for someone who’s too in love, you refused to say anything until Charles spoke to you.

It was just a normal weekend, you’ve not plotted yourself a shift to your part time job, so you’ve decided to settle your school works at your own comfort of home until you heard a bell. You knew it wasn’t pierre and at this point, you had no faith in both you and pierre’s relationship.

“Hey, it’s been long” charles came in the house and hugged you.

“Yeah, sorry man, i’ve just been too busy, i’ve got to keep getting good grades for you to finally see me on the grid being a reporter” you smiled and led him to your kitchen, where most of your notes, laptop, books were.

“Sorry for the mess, was kinda in the zone” charles laughed, not minding one bit knowing how focused you are once you’ve start on your work.

“Pierre’s not homed?” Charles ask confusingly

“Pierre’s moved out, it’s only me charles” you refused to talk about pierre even-though you’re still in a relationship with him.

“When did it happened, why hasn’t pierre told me? What happened between you and him, y/n?”

“We lost the spark charles, i know he has his eyes on someone else charles” you knew, you knew how he looked at her whenever she was invited to the driver gatherings, you knew but you refused to believe even-though you knew how much prettier she was than you

“y/n, i’m so sorry. I didn’t know anything, i’ve never expected pierre to have done this, mon cherie. I’ve feel fault knowing I’ve introduced both of you to each other” charles stood in-front of you and engulfed you in a hug which led you to have a breakdown.

“It’s never your fault charles, this is why i’ve told you countless times i’m not interested in the dating zone. I’d rather stay home at weekends facing my bed and tv”

you laughed, but charles knew deep down his best friend was suffering silently, and this was what charles was scared off, losing two of his best-friends and having to choose a side.

“Charles, i know you’re thinking of choosing a side but you don’t have to, pierre and you were friends way before i’ve met you. We can still be friends charles, i do not mind at the fact you’re best mates with my ex charles. If anything, i’m happy that you’re willing to be friends with me, so don’t think too much charles, you’re just gonna overthink your small brain”

both of you laughed, but you were different, for some reason the tears couldn’t stop coming down.

“Did pierre asked for it?” Charles asked, not believing his best mate had just broken the heart of his other best friend.

You shook your head and pointed at yourself, “ i did. I think he had a grasp of the situation and didn’t fight back, but it’s alright. It’s an experience for my first love” you’ve shrugged, while cleaning the mess you’ve made

Both of you have decided to not talk about pierre anymore and continue on both of your days together, with charles making sure you’re going to sleep with peace.

Months passed by, you’ve finally scored your first reporter job on the grid and it was the Monaco GP.

You had Lissie mentoring you and guiding you through everything, you knew Lissie through Lando and you’re glad for this because with out this opportunity you’ve wouldn’t be here as a reporter.

“We’re going to scuderia alphatauri team, y/n do you want me to take over?” Lissie asked you for the second time.

You gave her a smile and shook your head “Lissie it’s fine, i will be okay, i promise you.”

Lissie knew your past with the certain team member of scuderia alphatauri team and safe to say she wasn’t really happy with the personality of his but you’ve assured her that he wasn’t really a bad guy, maybe just a right person wrong timing?

What you didn’t notice was charles and pierre conversing and pierre eyes mainly focusing on you.

“Charles, you’ve never told me y/n would be here?”

carlos came and joined the conversation asking charles about your presence on the grid.

Charles was confused, why would you be here? You had decline the paddock passes he gave to you and so he followed carlos directions and saw you there right in-front of the camera interviewing George Russell and charles heart has never felt so full seeing your dream had been accomplished

Charles ignored the conversation with pierre and carlos and walked straight to you and waited for the interview to end to hug you.

“Surprise charles, i’m here, this time being paid!” You hugged back and stepped back

“I am so so proud of you, thanks Lissie for giving her this opportunity!” Charles smiled and thanked Lissie knowing how much the opportunity meant to y/n.

Lissie laughed it off and mumbled a no worries to him.

“Will you be interviewing us? Carlos and I? When will that be?”

“She’s not going to Charles, i’m sorry you’ll be seeing my face instead” Lissie broke off the news to him and laughed

Charles rolled his eyes jokingly, “for once, i thought i could get away from you, Lissie”

While Lissie, Charles and you were conversing, pierre, yuki and carlos made their way to the three of you.

“Hey y/n, long time no see” yuki greeted you

“Oh please, we met last sunday at the japanese restaurant, stop lying yuki!”

You knew the air was intense with charles and Lissie being protective of you around pierre and carlos with yuki having zero ideas of the backstory of both you and pierre parting.

“Hello Pierre, Hello Carlos! Fancy seeing both of you here too” you smiled.

“Well i fancy seeing you here, seeing you with radios and scripts attached to you is something i need to get used to looking at” Carlos touched the radio that was attached to your hip

“I’m proud of you, y/n” the sentence that would’ve broken down y/n if she wasn’t right in-front of her friends

“ oh shut up carlos, watch out for me more often in the future gps, don’t fall for me! and thank you pierre, couldn’t have done it without Lissie’s help of course!” Refusing to have the conversation mainly focusing on you, you shifted it to Lissie

After all of the catching up session, you’ve interviewed scuderia alphatauri and you’re thankful that it wasn’t as awkward as you’ve thought it’ll be. Once it was wrapped up, you excused yourself and pack things that were needed to be packed with Lissie.

Things were going smoothly for you for the weekend, avoiding pierre and focusing yourself on the task that was given. Interviews with you was widely loved by fans knowing that you’ve already formed a relationship with 20 of the drivers way before.

Soon after, Lissie and you were separated, you’ll be in charge of games and Lissie does most of the talking interviews. You were being sent to different gps than Lissie, though it bugs you off not being with Lissie, you still couldn’t be more thankful.

You’re finally at the Miami GP, this time with Lissie. God really wasn’t on your side today because, if anyone could have been stucked in a lift with you it has to be kika.

The woman that pierre had his eyes on while being in a relationship with you.

Kika knew of your existence but it takes two hands to clap so you did not really put the 100% blame on her because at the end of the day, pierre’s to be blamed too.

“Love the grey dress on you, y/n! you look really good in it” this shocked you, because this was your ever first conversation with kika herself.

you coughed and thanked her while complementing her outfit too, not really your style but for the sake of being kind, why not…? right?

“I didn’t know about you and pierre” she continued, you were really pissed off at the fact why has no one come to rescue me and her.

you really did not want to have this conversation especially after it took you almost 7 months to fully moved on.

“No worries, old story. Pierre’s much happier with you,yes?” You told her off while taking a seat on the lift floor.

she sat beside you.

“He’s not over it yet y/n, at night when i can’t find him next to the bed with me, he’s in the kitchen scrolling through pictures of you both, i’ve caught him listening to the playlist both of you’ve made too. I don’t blame him y/n, i’m sorry for telling you.”

“Kika….” you were stunned, in the 7 months it took you multiple shifts, late night studying to get rid of pierre on your mind only for it to come back right here right now

“I know you’re much more happier now y/n, but pierre was much happy with you than with me. I’ve noticed during the interview you did with him and yuki, I think that was a sign, you know? He doesn’t call me cherie, because it reminded him of you”

“kika, this is too much for me, let’s just be silent yeah?”

All you ever wanna do right now, is to get back to your hotel room and cry your lungs out

5 mins later, you hear the elevator door open and ding, and there stood in-front of you was the man of honour himself.

“Hey love, you okay?” You thought he went to kika and that was what confirmed it for you until you realised he was in-front of you.

“Pierre….? Kika’s there” you sound confused and pointed to kika

a/n : that’s all!!!!!! i hope you like part one, will post part 2 ASAP! pictures are there too let yall imagine the outfits etc!

#pierre gasly angst #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fluff #pierre gasly oneshot #f1 x you #f1 fandom #f1 x y/n #f1 reader

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formuladoll · 2 years

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woman of my life — pierre gasly

[request] he never thought losing your little family was possible, not until that magazine cover.

masterlist — request a fic!

fallen autumn leaves colored the streets of central milan, peacefully resting on the sidewalk for your little girl to play with. the evening breeze announced the end of another day, a special one since you got to spend it with your daughter.

it was moments like this that reminded you of how she was the best thing to ever happen to you; walks around the city with amélie’s smile spread across her face and a small hand holding a strong grip around your fingers.

since the first time you held her against your chest in that solitary hospital bed, you swore to protect her from everything, and you weren’t breaking that promise over any lover.

dating pierre had been amazing for you, especially with how natural he had been about you being a young mom; he constantly reminded you that he was not afraid of loving a woman who wasn’t able to give him undivided attention. pierre had interacted a few times with amélie, but on each occasion, he connected with her in such a way that you couldn’t help the small tears running down your cheeks.

pierre insisted that she was a flawless reflection of her mother, said you both share a compassionate gaze accompanied by the biggest toothy smile. it wasn’t until a year into your relationship that you presented him to little amélie as your partner. she was over the moon, comparing you two to her favorite princess and prince. your heart fluttered with love seeing how content she was with him moving over with the two of you. suddenly, everything fell into place.

with your daughter knowing about your relationship, the both of you agreed it was more important than ever to protect her by keeping your love away from the public. pierre lived for formula one, but without a second thought, he would leave everything behind if it meant protecting you and amélie from the negativity the sport brought into the driver’s personal lives.

you were now walking with amélie towards her favorite gelateria, having promised to buy her a scoop of gianduia. “hurry up, mamma,” she insisted with excitement shining in her eyes, holding your hand while guiding you through the path she knew so well. you let out a small giggle at her, picking up the pace to keep up with her small but rapid steps.

“ma, pierre's in a magazine!” the little girl squealed as she dragged you closer to a kiosk on the way to your destination. it was indeed a picture of pierre, but he wasn’t by himself— it was the both of you in a football match a few days ago, seemingly arguing about the psg-juventus match while attending the game. he thought it would be a great idea to take you there since he supported the french team, while you rooted for its italian counterpart. you both had such a fun night but weren’t aware of the media outlets noticing your presence.

needless to say, a picture of you both in a compromising moment wouldn’t just make the front page of a magazine, it was intended to allure people into reading the article in which pictures of pierre hugging you and kissing your forehead were included. you felt exposed and forced by the media to share with the world your relationship— which wasn’t ideal considering amélie would be exposed to the public sphere too.

“what’s going on, mamma? is pierre angry?” the little girl now looking up at you while wrapping herself around your legs asked. you were speechless, never really prepared for this scenario. “of course not, amore mio. we were just having a conversation and someone took a picture of us, don’t worry about it,” you answered before picking her up and placing her on your hip. “come on, let’s go get you that gelato.”

intrusive thoughts on the many possible outcomes of your relationship becoming public knowledge invaded your mind, causing an anxious feeling to creep up your throat. as soon as you got to the store, amélie sat down with you at a table, eating her much-awaited sweet reward.

trying to keep calm to not worry your daughter, you dialed pierre’s number and waited for him to pick up. “pronto, mon amour. i was just about to call you, i’m on my way home,” he said, unaware of your current dilemma.

“amour, please come pick us up from the gelateria,” you pleaded in a tone that would make anyone think you were in serious trouble. “what’s wrong, chérie? you sound stressed, are you both safe?” he could hear you sigh. “talk to me.”

“there are pictures of us at the football game going around, they made the cover of most magazines.” pierre’s hands gripped the steering wheel as if the shock could make him crash. he thought of the many ways he would’ve smashed that damned paparazzi’s camera if he saw it happening. “putain. i’m so sorry, mon amour. this is all my fault, i shouldn’t have taken us.” he apologized while stumbling over his own words.

the desperate tone coming from him convinced you that he genuinely couldn’t lose you— the both of you. you knew he would do everything in his power to keep your daughter safe. “we will be alright. i know our love is stronger than this and, as long as amélie is safe, i won’t give up on us.”

you could hear your boyfriend’s rushed breathing on the other side of the line, emotion tainting his voice as he struggled to keep his composure. “mon amour, je t’adore. you are the woman of my life, i promise i’ll protect our family from this. i’m a few minutes away from you, save me some gelato.”

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly angst #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly drabble #pierre gasly oneshot #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfiction #f1blr

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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

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traditions | p. gasly

pairing: pierre gasly x reader word count: 1.1k words (thankfully) request: yep! by anon: “aaaa i love your works sm! can i request something child or pregnancy related with pierre? anything ngl i just have baby fever and the thought of pierre with kids makes me 🥰” prompt: making christmas treats ⎯ “stop eating all of the cookies!” from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: pregnancy, bickering, language maybe. a/n: day 3! i know this is short but i’ll try to make all of these this length. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

the holidays were right around the corner, and she liked having little rituals that she and pierre fulfilled every year. from decorating their shared apartment, to doing movie nights and gift-shopping. her favorite part was baking treats, an entire day of preparing different fillings for pies, dough for cookies, and pierre following his mother’s recipe for the perfect hot chocolate.

they’d been preparing for this day for a week, buying everything they needed and even more stuff that she’d started craving recently. she was four months pregnant with their first little baby. after being together for five years, they felt ready to expand their family and try getting pregnant.

she was sure that pierre was going to be a great father, seeing him with his nieces and nephews always made her baby fever go through the roofs. he was so good with kids, always willing to play and not afraid to look ridiculous as he let the kids dress him up in crazy costumes for their games. he was so caring and gentle, but at the same time not afraid to get his hands dirty as he followed the kids’ orders to whatever plan they had in mind.

the moment they’d found out they were pregnant pierre was over the moon. already searching for ways to baby-proof their apartment, looking for clothes and a crib and things to decorate little gasly’s room. she’d looked at him with teary eyes, if this was how he reacted just to the news… she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when the little one was actually born.

“is it ready?” she asked, watching pierre stirring the hot chocolate. she’d been craving it for so long, she could actually taste it in her mouth.

“just one more minte, mon coeur,” he turned to her, watching her nibbling on one of the sugar cookies, he grinned, “stop eating all of the cookies,” he chuckled, making her roll her eyes.

“it’s not me, it’s you son,” she said. a teasing look on her face. they’d decided to wait until the birth to find out the gender, but she had a feeling it was going to be a boy. pierre hoped for a girl.

“well then, my little ladies can have as many as they want,” he said smugly, making his belief clear. he turned off the stove, and turned to her, placing a hand to her cheek, the other one finding her waist. she smiled at the closeness, ever since she found out about the pregnancy she found herself constantly craving physical contact. not just intimately, but a simple touch was enough. he leaned in, pecking the side of her lip, getting some of the leftover sugar from her lips. “you taste sweet, amour,” pierre hummed, enjoying the way she was basically melting under his touch.

“we should… finish making the pasties, before i get distracted,”

“you’ve been insatiable this month,” he noted, ever since she finished her first trimester and the nausea was gone, every single cell in her body called for him.

“not my fault,” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek before reluctantly letting go of him.

as they waited for the hot chocolate to cool down a little, they took out a tray with nutella-filled pastries out of the oven, waiting for those to cool down as well.

“i’ll go set up the living room,” pierre announced, kissing the side of her forehead, “don’t eat these yet, please, you’ll get burned,”

“yeah, i know,” she said, even though her mouth was watering just at the sight of the golden pastries.

she took out two mugs from a cabinet, matching mr. and mrs. claus ones that she found at an antique store in paris a few days ago. she served the hot chocolate, watching the kitchen counter filled with all the different types of christmas desserts they’d made that day. she was proud of herself, that even though the pregnancy was taking a toll on her health, she still had the strength and spirits to keep the tradition going.

her eyes found the golden pastries. she knew they were going to be good. they looked absolutely perfect. she had to have one. she could still hear pierre scrolling through netflix trying to find a movie, she could have one and get away with it. she picked the perfect one, blowing on it before giving it a small bite.

the sound that came out of her… it was one that she only heard herself emitting when she was with pierre. it surprised her so much that she covered her mouth with a hand, trying to contain a chuckle, praying that pierre hadn’t heard her.

her eyes went up as she saw pierre walking in, a confused look on his face. so he had heard hear.

“i should’ve known,” he smirked, looking at the sweet dessert in her hand. “it’s that good?” he asked, approaching her. she nodded, laughing at the absurdity of it all. she lifted the chocolatey treat to his lips, waiting to see his reaction.

“it’s great, right?” she asked, pierre nodded, eyes widening a little.

“we really knocked it out of the park this year,”

“i think it’s our little lady tasting everything for the first time that makes it all feel better.”

“i agree. i think our baby boy is enjoying all of this,” she retorted.

“girl,” pierre said.

“boy.” she lifted an eyebrow.

“girl,” he took a step closer to her.

“boy.” she dared one look to the side, seeing an opportunity.

“girl,” he insisted, placing his hands on her waist, turning her so her back was against the counter.

perfect, she thought.

“boy.” she dipped her finger in the opened nutella jar, smearing it all over his face. she chuckled, watching his shocked expression.

“you did not,” he said, moving to grab the jar, but she was faster, holding the clean side of his face in one hand and started placing small kisses, cleaning a little bit of it.

“no, no, i’m sorry,” she laughed, grabbing a towel and cleaning his face. “i’m sorry, i can have my karma later, now i just want to watch a movie and eat as much of these as i can,” she said, placing a hand on her stomach without noticing. he noticed, and decided to please her.

“of course, amour, anything for my girls.” he said, turning around to grab their mugs, and walked out of the kitchen.

“it’s a boy!”

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bruuhky · 1 year

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•F1 Drivers x Mom!single 2.0

#f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #daniel ricciardo x ofc #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic

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httpsuniverse · 1 year

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DAISY, DAISY | pg10

PAIRING: pierre gasly x reader

DETAILS & WARNINGS: pregnancy, mentions miscarriages, birth

WC: 829

A/N: again, from baby reveal 📸! i plan on making little stories from that ig au, so here’s pierre’s version! ❤️ i also plan on making one for the other drivers (clement, dennis, felipe, marcus & pato) but like a different one, not specifically dad!au HAHAHA does that make sense? lol idk i’m rambling 😭 but anyway, enjoy!

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © newuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

pierre couldn’t believe it, it felt as if he was dreaming when they placed the baby in his arms. daisy anthoinette gasly was small in her father’s arms, the new father felt his heart skip a beat when the baby coos in his arms. she’s a perfect mix of the two of you; nose and lips from the ricciardo’s and the beautiful, captivating blue eyes from the gasly’s.

you share the intimate moment between the father and daughter. tears escaping your eyes as you watched your fiancé hold your baby for the first time. daisy anthoinette was a miracle you two have. after experiencing three miscarriages, you were on the brink of giving up your dreams of building a family with the love of your life. until one day in australia, after pierre went surfing with your brother, he saw you standing in the middle of the beach, waiting for him with pregnancy tests in hand.

“for real? mon amour, please tell me this is real…” he said, voice cracking as he held the two sticks in his own hands. you couldn’t speak, smiling and crying at the same time as you nod your head. pierre pulled you gently in his arms, planting a kiss on your temple. “baby, how do you feel?”

“i’m… i’m scared, p. i’m scared it’ll happen again.” you reply, referring to your previous miscarriages.

he never let go of you, letting you sob in his arms as he said: “baby, i know it’s scary but we’ll do everything we can to keep you two safe. i’m always here for you, if i have to quit racing just to take care of you two—i would.”

the nurses have left the three of you alone, congratulating you for a safe and successful delivery of your firstborn. pierre was in the zone as he stared at his daughter in awe, he couldn’t hear anything but her tiny coos. your pregnancy journey with daisy was hard, but thankfully his mother and your mum would help you most of the time because pierre was away most of the time.

waking up in the middle of the night with the most excruciating pain on your stomach was one of your biggest fears, but thankfully, pierre was right next to you and was able to assist you to the car. he returned to milan, just in time for daisy’s arrival. she wasn’t supposed to be born until after a few days, but the girl was so excited to welcome herself in the world and meet her parents.

“pierre, she’s going to be with us forever. stop staring and give me, your fiancée, some attention too!” you joked, causing pierre to laugh and avert his eyes from daisy to you.

“as much as i want to stare at her, i feel like i’m about to burst out crying any second now.” he chuckled, “mon amour—”

achoo! daisy sneezed, probably the cutest and smallest sneeze you’ve ever heard in your entire life and that brought a huge smile on pierre’s face. “i think i’m gonna cry, for real now” his voice cracked, “don’t tell daniel or charles though”

you smiled at him, “cry, pierre. she’s worth the tears.” you say, “and i’m definitely telling my brother and charles”

hours have passed and daisy was sleeping peacefully in the hospital baby crib, an hour for you and pierre alone. after you had pierre staring at daisy, he was now staring at you. you two have gone through ups and downs, yet here you are, staying stronger than ever—with daisy to join you in this journey together. “okay, now you have to stop staring at me” you chuckled, your hands found his cheek and the pads of your fingertip brush along his beard. “what’s on your mind, baby?”

he gives you a small smile, shaking his head lightly as he felt his cheeks heat. “nothing, just…” he sighs, “with daisy being here now, i remember the early days of our relationship… remember when we first moved in together?”

“daniel almost lost his shit when i told him i was moving with you in milan” you laugh, “our very first night together, you confessed that you feel safe in my arms and i told you that you were such a big baby.”

pierre nods his head, “now we do have a baby of our own… well, our miracle baby.” pierre leans over you, slowly connecting your lips together for a sweet kiss. a routine pierre and you have every night.

“we’re so in love, aren’t we?” you whispered, he gave you a nod.

pierre held your hand in his, squeezing it gently as he brought it in front of his lips before kissing the back. “thank you for giving me daisy. it wasn’t an easy pregnancy, but i’m glad we’ve conquered it together… you’ve conquered your fear, mon amour.”

you know hearts don’t break around here… daisy was now here to fill your hearts with joy and happiness.

yourusername and pierregasly

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and others

ynricciardo daisy is enjoying her stay in australia and in the arms of her grandparents 🌼🇦🇺 it feels so surreal to think that it’s been a year since we found out i was pregnant with our little flower and now she’s here 🥹❤️

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fan1 daisy looks so big now 🥺

ynricciardo ikr!! time goes by sooo fast, soon enough she’ll be walking around the paddock

pierregasly oh god i’m not ready for that

pierregasly but she’ll be the cutest baby there 🥹

danielricciardo the look on mum and dad’s faces! 😆

ynricciardo dad looks so happy, danny! wish you were here tho 🥹

pierregasly those balloons sure kept her entertained for a good amount of time 😄

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly oneshot #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fan fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

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formulapierre · 7 months

Text

I don't wanna leave just yet | Pierre Gasly

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Y/N!reader

Prompt : Based off of 'I don't wanna leave just yet' by Thomas Day. Where Pierre suddenly ends your relationship; claiming it was your fault and you have to deal with the fallout.

Warnings: Cheating. I also wrote this in a couple hours so please excuse any grammatical errors. Thanks x

Word Count: 1358

Song: I don't wanna leave just yet - Thomas Day

'The world goes up in flames so fast'

“Y/N,” Pierre says from the kitchen.

“What’s going on P?” You ask, still sitting on the couch. Pierre didn’t sound like himself which concerned you, in the whole almost three years you had been together he had called you by your first name probably a handful of times. You got up and went into the kitchen, knowing that was going to be an important conversation

“I need to be honest with you Y/N; I need to be honest with myself-” He starts to say before you cut him off.

‘What are you saying?” You ask him, very confused by the situation.

“We haven’t been working for a while…and I’ve-” He says pausing, evidently trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.

“-you’ve found someone else…” You say, finishing his sentence for him, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, clouding your vision.

“Yes,”

And all I want is all I had But it's too late to take it back

“We can fix this…I can fix this,” You say softly.

“No Y/N,” He says, almost pained.

“Please Pierre, there’s no way this is just it,” You argue, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“It is, I have found someone else. This isn’t just about me and you anymore…well it never was, was it?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“You’re still insecure about that?” You asks, lost for words that he was still hung up over it. “ I never slept with him, we both told you that. Stop making things up Pierre. There never was, is, or will be anything between Charles and I.” You argue; He had apparently seen proof of you and Charles leaving a party in Ibiza together.

“The photos Y/N!” He argues back.

“Are of some random girl, who also has blonde hair. Its not that fucking uncommon.” You reason for what felt like the millionth time. “So that's it? That's the reason you’re going to use? End three years of us because of some bullshit rumour?” You ask, the tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

And I can't ask of you to give away the last of you But, selfishly, I'm hoping that you stay

“Please don’t go,” You beg as he silently packed his bags.

“I can’t stay here, can I?” He asks bitterly, sticking to his guns.

“You have to believe me, those rumours are just that, rumours,” You say. “You trust me Pierre, there is no reason I’d lie to you. Fuck me, why would Charles lie to you? He is your oldest friend for Christ's sake?!”

“You tell me Y/N? Is it because you’re still seeing each other behind my back?” He asks and you just laugh.

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You ask incredulously

Let's lock all the doors and crawl in to bed Just another moment so I don't forget

You were sat, side by side in Pierre’s brand new Porsche; a gift He had bought himself when he signed his contract with Alpine. His hand resting on your thigh as you drove along the southern french coastline. The wind running through your hair as you sang the lyrics to your favourite songs.

As the song came to an end Pierre turned the volume down before looking over at you. Your large sunglasses and woven hat keeping the sun out of your face but bright red smile, smiling right back at him.

“Have I told you today how much I love you Cherie?” He asks sweetly, as soft blush covering your face.

“I don’t think you have,” You reply as he brings your hand up to his lips.

“Well we definitely need to change that,” He says, causing you to laugh softly. “I love you Y/N so much it hurts; it feels like I was made to love you. We are perfect for each other and nothing will ever come between us, because I love you,” He says honestly and jokingly; you both had found the notion of true love to be made up, but people around you had always commented on the fact you were perfect for eachother.

“Yeah right,” You reply teasingly.

“Cherie, it pains me that there may even be a little part of you that doesnt think what I said was true,” He says with a laugh as He comes to park at your next stop. A tiny village surrounded by vineyards, known for their white wine

'Cause it's gonna hurt, and I'm scared to death We have to go but I don't wanna leave just yet

How couldn’t he believe you?

You had even gotten Charles to speak to him about it; Pierre barely listened to him as He spoke. Neither of you making much difference. That had been a few months ago, you had thought you had moved past it considering you hadn’t actually seen charles since the supposed event. But apparently not.

How were you going to be ok without him? He had been your lifeline, your rock for nearly three years. And how could he throw that all away over rumour?

Of all people to not be affected by rumour, you would have thought it was him. His job and the places he worked were full of speculation, gossip and rumour. There were constant rumours about the latest supermodel He had bedded, but you didn’t let that get to you. Why was the other way around any different?

You were lost.

The truth is written on the walls But we'll lay here and watch them fall

You lay in bed, staring at the framed photos on the walls.

You and Pierre in Rouen,

You and Pierre at the beach in Monaco with Charles and Charlotte,

Christmas last year that you spent with your family,

The selfie you took on your anniversary date,

The road trip you took around the UK when you first got together, wanting to show him all your favourite places.

The photo Esteban had taken of the two of you kissing in the back of Pierre’s garage only a few months ago.

You thought about taking them down so you didn’t have to look at them, not wanting to face what was reality for so long. You cried, remembering each memory associated with each photo, how much it hurt that he wasn’t here, and wasn’t going to walk through the bedroom door and scoop you up into his arms; telling you everything was going to be ok.

And please forgive me for holding on I'm tryna take it in before you're gone

He had forgotten it when he had packed all his stuff up. A linen shirt. Something so basic, but so important at the same time. That was his signature outfit. The one he wore on your yearly Lake Como trip, or when you go to France to see his family, or when he was just lounging around the apartment. You were surprised when He messaged, you knew for a fact He had a handful of other shirts just like it.

But this would be it; you held it close to you. Inhaling the, now, feint smell of his cologne for what would be the last time before you heard your doorbell ring. You folded the shirt, setting it down before answering the door.

“Hey Pierre,” You said opening it to reveal him standing on the other side.

“Just let me have my shirt Y/N, I don’t want this to be any longer than it has to be,” He says and you have to stifle your emotions, just nodding and grabbing the shirt from the table.

“Here,” You say, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” He says quietly before turning away and heading down the hallway. You watched as he walked away from you for the last time.

'Cause it's gonna hurt, and I'm scared to death We have to go but I don't wanna leave just yet

His clothes were gone,

His toothbrush was gone,

The photos were gone,

His smell was gone,

He was gone.

And you? You were lost.

A/N : I might do a few more of these purely text based fics as they are much quicker to write than my Instagram fics and shorter; though I will continue to do them I just want to be posting more regularly for you all. -E x

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shaarlslec · 2 years

Text

catch me if you can

part 2 and part 3 here lovelies;

pairing: pierre gasly x driver!reader

words: 4800 ish

warnings: swearing, car crashes, enemies to lovers type of a thingy, lots of teasing, both pierre and reader being pricks

masterlist

a/n: honestly this is a redemption fic for pierre for my charles fic (here) and i hope you will enjoy itttttt (def gonna have more parts if you guys like it)

You were the driver to take Pierre’s seat at Red Bull back in 2019 during your very second season in F1. Two years had passed since then and Pierre remains still bitter about Red Bull’s decision and portrays you as the scapegoat. Your cars crash on the track for the first time and everything in between the two of you manages to somehow accentuate more of the hard feelings you carried for each other – whatever those were.

When Pierre got demounted from Red Bull after a not so successful season you got the seat as their second driver after a fantastic last season in F2 where you won the championship far detached from the other drivers and one rookie season with Toro Rosso where you managed to finish in points for most of the races and not creating problems in the rest of them. You were the first female to win in F2, and Red Bull were one of the teams that had been hunting you for a long time. They needed a chance to get a hold of you even closer than a satellite team, and Pierre offered them the chance to empty the spot after not being fit of the role given. You accepted right away when the contract was put on the table and had Red Bull Racing written in bold font all over. You would have been crazy not to say yes when one of the biggest teams wanted you to drive their fastest car alongside Verstappen. They took a huge risk of putting you into Red Bull after only one season at Toro Rosso and you knew that every single mistake you made in the car costed more than before – a lot more.

Worrying about keeping your seat at Red Bull and win as many races as you can as was your upmost priority since you first tried the dark blue racing suit, nothing else mattered more than that. You knew Pierre was angry with you, you knew that he used your face in the back of his mind to feed his hunger more than ever. And yet, you could not get distracted by that. None of your heroes won championships caring about the other divers. You should not have too.

When you first got the seat Pierre has not said a word to you for a couple of months, you would rarely meet at races outside the racing cars and exchange short glares that said nothing but anger and envy. Pierre knew that it was not your fault for him being replaced at Red Bull and yet the emotion when he saw you all dressed up in the blue gear that was once promised to him could not be contained – and you could not blame him. You tried at a couple of parties or meetings to make things up with him, but you were always welcomed by the cold words coming from the Frenchman.

Your conversations with Pierre were unintentionally hilarious by being always surprisingly sarcastic. You were both passive-aggressive with each other without even knowing it or acknowledge that you barely could stand being in the same room. And yet, your teams wanted you to get along. Scandals in motorsport were never welcomed, especially when two teams had such a connection as Red Bull and Alpha Tauri, therefore your PR manager always urged you to look good in front of the cameras when Pierre was around. The last time you tried to be as well-mannered as possible with him for the eyes of the press was Monza in 2020 when you went to congratulate him for the win after being begged by your manager to do so.

“Oh, are you lost sweetheart? The Red Bull one is up in the front.” Pierre said when you tried to get close to him in the front of Alpha Tauri garage after their celebration pictures, putting up a high wall for you not to cross right from the start.

You huffed, that was Pierre. Correction, that was Pierre with you. Always sarcastic, always with the guard up. You frowned, you never managed to get how everybody else on the gird found Pierre a genuinely good guy when the Frenchman acted like a coming-of-age little boy mad at the world around him for not giving him what he thought he deserved to get. Another thing that you could not explain to yourself was why you found him so much more attractive when Pierre behaved like a prick. There was something about the way Pierre looked away from your face when you spoke that simply drove you crazy amongst all the other things the man was doing to make you crazy: tensed muscles, clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and that thick French accent that you could not get away from your head. You deeply sighed after the huff as if it helped you to regain your conscious and be present in the moment eyeing him.

“Excuse me?” You baffled replied, “I am here to just say congrats.” You explained as you crossed your arms at your chest, “And please do not ever call me sweetheart ever again, it sounds wrong coming from your filthy mouth.” You added, “They made me do it.” You almost whispered for your PR manage to not hear you standing meters away from you, “So, congrats. Amazing drive.” You spoke standing still, not daring to make yet another step toward the man.

You were never close; you were never friends. And yet, you would have lied not to admit that what Pierre did in Monza was fantastic. An excellent driver winning a fantastic race. You just wanted to say your greetings and leave him be to satisfy the team’s orders, and now you were aggravated by him in ways no one aggravated you on the gird.

Pierre’s eyes sighed rolled as he was the one to take two steps towards you, “For the sake of the articles, let’s say I believe you.” The driver spoke, stretching his arm to meet yours for a shake.

“You are a tough one to break, aren’t you?” You spoke as you shook the man’s hand knowing that they were taking pictures of you two, “I am not lying when I say that it was an excellent drive today and I truly want to congratulate you for it.” You spoke, faking a smile for the pictures but somehow not faking it for Pierre, “I really want us to try and be friends Pierre.” You added from a genuine place standing in all your vulnerability in front of the man who seemed to truly hate you at that time, “I am tired already of this meaningless competition between the two of us.”

Pierre chuckled as well, watching the journalist behind your shoulder as they were approaching to hear your little conversation better.

“Let’s give them a show since you came all over here to say hello, shall we?” Pierre spoke then, focusing now all his attention on you and only you as the man tightening his grip around yours and pulled you in for a hug taking you by surprise.

Your eyes widened as Pierre’s grip tightened around you. From the outside it looked like nothing more than a friendly hug behind rivals, and yet it was nothing but a threat for both of you.

“I do not want your pity.” Pierre whispered as he leaned over your ear once your head felt on the man’s chest, “I am coming after your seat, Y/N.” Pierre then spoke, as the tip of his lips slightly rubbed against your ear in the process, “I am here to race, not to make friends.”

“What makes you think that I will let the seat go as easy as you did before, Pierre?” You sarcastically inquired and broke the hug quicker than Pierre would have expected, “Also, the last thing I feel about you is pity.” You assured him after throwing a cheeky wink towards the man’s direction to catch Pierre’s full focus on you for the first time that day, “Thank you for the hug, I have to shower twice now.” You spoke as you turned your back on Pierre with a little smug on your face.

What you were not aware of as you left was the fact that your little smirk was very much like Pierre’s watching you go. You decided to not put up with Pierre’s ego after that day, as you knew it was too much for you to handle and the only thing you would manage to do was to heat up the things between the two of you until one of you busted. If Pierre wanted you two to just race, then so be it.

You gave up to even greet him when passing by and people started to notice. Not just teammates or team principals, but journalists and could write about it. The tension between the two of you was always present during the press conferences or interviews and you took the decision to spice it up every single time when given the opportunity. If Pierre did not want to be your friend again, you let him to be the enemy he so much desired.

“You are quite fitting for the second seat at Red Bull, a place that was hardly filled by other men on the grid. Are you afraid that they can try to steal it back from you?” One journalist asked you as he took the opportunity of you being seated between Pierre and Max at one of the post-race conferences.

You huffed, slightly rolling your eyes as your mouth opened to speak before glaring at Pierre, “No, why would I be scared of someone who can barely make it to the points?” You mockingly inquired as you arched one of your brows, “I will be frightened when that happens, but who knows when that will be.” You spoke, watching’s Pierre’s jaw clench with the corner of your eye.

“Anything to add to that Pierre?” The journalist bluntly asked, and all room now focused on the Alpha Tauri driver.

Pierre denied with a nod, “No, not really. I like a challenge when I see one.” He then replied, glaring at you for more than enough for your body to weirdly react to the man’s stare with sparkles of shivers down to your spine.

Your cockily answer motivated Pierre for the rest of that season, but you were not going to let him take away what was yours – especially in your first seasons as a Red Bull racing woman. You finished way ahead of him in the championships, and that only got Pierre even more anger and you got your two-year contract extension with Red Bull. You were doing a pretty good job for your first two seasons. You finished in the first six or eight in all your races, except for three DNFs. You helped the team to gather a significant number of points for the constructors’ championship and even got four podiums in your first year and two wins in the second season helping you only to get hungrier for more – but so did Gasly.

When drivers are too hungry for the win no matter in which shape of form that win comes it can cause friction. Your battle with Pierre was taken outside the track during the first two years and then he got more competitive, and you got more aware of him being competitive towards you on the track as well as outside of it.

It first started at the beginning of the 2021 season when Pierre openly declared that you behaved like a prick after you called him “fucking moron” when you two accidentally collided in one of the races where you out lapped him. Pierre braked too early, and you went in too fast. Your front wing touched the Alpha Tauri’s back and you both went out of the race in no time. You were known as being the calm and composed driver of Red Bull balancing Max, and yet no one on the grid maddened you as much as Pierre Gasly always had managed to do and everyone watching was pretty much aware of that fact. You could not help yourself not to swear on the team radio after your car spun through the gravel and ended up in the panel costing you a perfect P2 after your teammate in Austria.

“Are you ok?” Your racing engineer asked you immediately, “Y/N, please tell us that you are ok.”

You shook your head to freshen up from the dizziness caused by the collision, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shouted right away completely ignoring the engineer inquire, “Yes, I am fine. I will get out of the car now.” You spoke after seconds of just heavily breathing into the hamlet, “What a fucking moron.” You swore again as you got out of the car, thinking that the radio was now cut but very much echoed on live television, “What a fucking moron!” You repeated as you watched Alpha Tauri’s car slowing down and Pierre hitting the steering wheel.

You watched Pierre getting out of his car as well meters across you on the other side of the track. The Frenchmen lost control of the car milliseconds after you. You both kept your helmets on, but you could sense the man’s aggravated glare on you even through the visors, and you only hopped that he was able to feel yours as well. You went back to the garage and replayed the footage after the marshals made sure that you were indeed fine and drove you to your destination.

It was not for the first time that you two touched during a race, but it was for the first time when the crash evolved in DNFs. You knew that you had to be the bigger person and speak to him about this, because all your “meetings” on the track felt personal, filled with anger and hatred and you cannot allow a crash like today to ever happen again and especially not with a midfield car whose driver is actively hunting for your seat. But then again, why should you be the one who makes the first step and try to patch up the things between you and Pierre? You took a breath in; you knew that you could not show any weakness in this sport especially since you were one of the few females on the grid. You huffed watching Pierre getting taken away by one of the marshals as well, you could not let your guard down in front of a man in this sport. You had to keep your guard up as you always did when they asked you about Pierre, not giving them the opportunity to see you silent.

When the interviews happened after a very much glorious podium with Max, Lewis and Charles in the first three positions you managed to keep your nerves in check and said nothing about the incident but congratulate your teammate for getting more points for the team and putting an even bigger gap in the driver championship where your name was now on the forth position after allowing Charles to surpass you due to your DNF. And yet, the Sky Sports interviewer was more than edger to get a scoop of your feelings towards the one you collided with.

“Beautiful race for you today up until you touched with Gasly, can we get your thoughts on that? You called him a ‘moron’ right?”

You cleaned your throat twice before answering, you knew what they wanted for you and you were not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing you agonize over lost points or let them interpretate even more your words over the radio, you had to keep your calm and composed imagine while still being a little bitter over it, “No thoughts on that really,” You lied as you faked a smile, “It was a racing incident, the only thing that I regret is that if I would have paid more attention maybe we would not touch, and yet I was greedy for that podium and wanted to catch Max.” You spoke with that fake smile still lingering on your face, “I am sorry for costing the team points today.” You gently added, “And yes, I called Pierre a ‘moron’ after the accident because I was mad at what happened, and I was caught in the moment not being aware of the radio still on.” You explained before quickly waved goodbye trying to avoid as much as you can follow-up questions about the crash, “I will not apologize for saying what I believe he is.” You ended in a harsh tone, letting everybody know that it was not a silly mistake taken at anger for you.

You spent the rest of the day answering the questions regarding Gasly in the same way not wanting to stir a scandal between the two teams and to give everybody the scoop they wanted and yet letting a few cocky things be heard about your relationship with Pierre Gasly, but also Pierre made sure to expose his feelings towards you and the crash loud and clear.

“She is behaving like a prick ever since she joined Red Bull two seasons ago, what you saw on track represents exactly what happens when a spoiled brat takes the wheel of a fast car.” Pierre declared during his interview shocking everyone who listened to the Alpha Tauri driver’s words, “There is no apology from my side to what happened today.” The driver spoke with a clenched jaw.

Pierre was as bad as you at hiding his feelings on your relationship, and the hatred he felt towards you might have been years of hating Red Bull but having you as the scapegoat for his agitated feelings. You watched Pierre’s interview back into your motorhome with both of your arms at your chest and a very amused tiny smile sprung on your face. You could see through the TV screen that Pierre was infuriated from the way his forehead was slightly frowned while being covered in tiny bubbles of sweat and by Pierre’s constantly bitten fully rose lips out of spite of anger for you. You would have lied if you said that you were not enjoying it at all. You somehow enjoyed having this kind of an effect on the man, but you were not very much aware of what kind of an effect Pierre had on you too. You listened to him calling you a “prick” and “spoiled brat” and you could only pay attention to the thick French accent that honestly made your knees weak when heard in person. You were too caught in your little war to have time for yourself to admit that you found him hot – annoyingly hot.

“Do you think that you would have done a better job than her in the Red Bull seat as a man?” The interviewer bluntly asked, making Pierre’s frown even deeper.

Your eyes widened in shock of a such misogynistic question and so did Pierre’s on the screen. The facial expressions of the French driver hardened as he wanted to figure out a somewhat professional way.

“You do realize that her being a spectacular woman has nothing to do with what happened today, right? I could have crashed with Max and your question would have been totally different than what you just asked.” Pierre answered as he even leaned more towards the interviewer in a not so friendly way of approaching, “I thought stupid inquiries like this were long gone from interviews.” Pierre almost threatened the interviewer before leaving without saying goodbye.

Oh, Pierre called you spectacular woman. Yes, of course. You were also a ‘prick’ and ‘a spoiled brat’ but at least you were spectacular. Something about the man who publicly claimed to dislike you taking your side moments after made you appreciate him more – and by appreciate you meant find him even hotter. You changed into more comfortable clothes as the rest of the interviews unfolded before your eyes on the TV without any sight of Pierre in the background anymore.

The debrief of the race was about to start and you knew that although you will be celebrating Max’s win, you will also be talking about your crash with Pierre and about ways to solve this little on-going never-ending dispute between you and the French driver. Fuck, you will be obligated to solve it now in between the two of you. You sighed as you approached the door thinking about what you will say or do in the following races outside and inside the tracks.

Once you opened the door your eyes were immediately locked on a white half undressed racing suit with dark blueprints on it and a very much familiar bull on a somewhatat familiar chest. You lifted your glare and met the Frenchman’s ocean-eyes on yours eating you whole.

“Go back in, we need to talk.” Pierre spoke, blocking the side of the door with one of his hands as he was waiting for you to follow the exact order.

Your eyebrow arched, “Oh, you came to say sorry?” You inquired, leaning on the said blocked door just to harden Pierre’s job on holding it for you.

“They made me.” Pierre smirked, leaning towards you just as he did back in Monza, “Let’s go back in, please.” The man now pleaded and yet not dropping the sarcastic tone of his voice.

You cave in once you saw people from both of your teams watching your moves, you knew that they had to solve everything before it turns into a scandal. Red Bull and Alpha Tauri does not know how to tame their drivers? What is going on at the Red Bull HQs? You rolled your eyes and invited Pierre in with a side eye. Pierre obeyed, closed the door behind him and said nothing but scanning the tiny room with a look.

“I apologies for my bad-manners, I usually take girls on dates before inviting myself in their homes.” Pierre said as he leaned on the now closed doors, “But something tells me that you are not the type of girl to date drivers. Too dangerous of a job, right?”

You rolled your eyes. Again. This dude made you roll your eyes twice in the last ten minutes, “Oh yes, especially when you crush with idiots on track.” You replied, taking a seat on the tiny two people sofa you had on one of the corners, “Care to explain to me what we are doing now?” You spoke, adopting the same defensive pose that you were so used to adopt in front of him already.

Pierre’s chest lifted in a sigh, “PR managers met before we did, and they came up with this extraordinary plan of me coming to you to apologies for what happened on the track.”

You nodded, “Perfect.” You spoke as you crossed your legs in front of him completing forgetting that you were now not wearing your racing gear but a dress, “Go on, apologize then.” You spoke, cupping your head in one of your rested arms on your knee, “I will be listening.”

Pierre took one look at you before giggling, “Oh no, no.” He explained, making one step towards you as he was swinging one of his palms in the air to go nonchalantly with his negations, “I am so not going to apologize to you, we just need to be seen locked in the same room for a couple of minutes and that will be it. You will say that we made up, and I will confirm your words.” He spoke, taking a seat right next to you to take a better look at what was lying right in front of him. You, in a dress, suspiciously looking at him while annoyingly pouting your lips. Damn, you were in the process of breaking all tough Pierre without even knowing it. Who would have guessed? Pierre Gasly’s kryptonite was an annoyed woman in a simple dress.

“You think there is nothing you should apologize for? You were in my way!” You spoke, feeling the heat in between the two of you going right to your throbbing temples, “I could have finished second if it was not for you to block my way.”

Pierre’s hand rested next to your head while he leaned back in the couch hearing you speak, “We both can play this game, Y/N. I could have finished in the points if it was not for you to hit my back.”

You took a short breath in, resisting the urge not to punch him in the face by biting your tongue and softly clicking it to the bridge of your mouth, “I out lapped you Pierre, I know this does not sit well with you right now but finishing on the podium is way different than finishing in points.” You spoke, slightly touching the man’s right thigh to let him know that you were both sarcastic and emphatic with your words.

Pierre hand went on yours right before you wanted to place it back on your lap, the man’s fingers pressed against yours on his thigh as if he never wanted you to leave it untouched ever again, “See? This is exactly why I said that you behave like a prick since you got to Red Bull, you seem to have forgotten how important points are for a midfield team such as Alpha.”

You gulped as your hand got stuck, Pierre seemed to not even acknowledge your clasped hands, “I have not.” You firmly spoke not wanting to prove him that you were getting intimidated by a mere touch that you have firstly started, “We just have different priorities, that is all.” You added, getting your hand from Pierre’s as soon as he let go. Pierre caught you now, your act of acting all rough was shattered. Your cheeks were red, even rosier that they were that day when you hugged. Pierre giggled in that silly manner that he uses to flirt with girls. And yet, you were not some random girls he met at a pub during summer break, and you had to remind him that.

“Ok now that we settled absolutely nothing between the two of us, you should leave and go back.” You spoke, clasping both of your hands back into your lap and titling your head towards the motorhome’s door, “Do you want me to help you find the exit?” You mockingly smiled and adopting an even more passive-aggressive tone than before with Pierre.

“You really cannot be in the same room as me for more than five minutes?” Pierre replied with the same tone, “We barely talked, they will not believe that we patched things up so soon.”

“It sounds to me that you want to be locked up in the room with me more than I want you to leave.” You proudly replied thinking that you came up with such a brilliant comeback only to be put in your place right away.

“It is not my cheeks that are burning, Y/N.” Pierre spoke, pointing at your still heated up face.

“It is just hot in here.” You lied, picking up the top of your dress to fan yourself as a demonstration.

Pierre laughed, “What about now?” He then spoke as he slowly leaned even closer to you with one of his palms slightly covering your bare ankle, “Still hot?”

You were taken aback, and yet you wanted to show Pierre that he was completely wrong, “No, nothing.” You lied, “Just the fact that this room is too small for two people.” You spoke not moving an inch.

Pierre’s smug widened as the man’s hand moved from your ankle up caressing your leg with tenderness, and finding a spot to rest in between your knees, “You are competitive even now, Y/N?”

You chuckled, taking Pierre’s hand into yours just to move it closer in between your legs, “I have always been competitive, Pierre.” You justified as your dress went up on your thighs with Pierre’s fingers faintly grabbing into your skin in between them as if he was afraid to continue or maybe just a little bit too intimated by your hasting him in doing so, “You are just adding to it.” You spoke as you removed the man’s hand from between your legs to lift from your seat on the couch.

“You just started a dangerous game.” Pierre hardly spoke as the man’s breath was cut short by the sight of your almost uncovered thighs and the feverishness of what laid in between your legs.

“You were the one to tell everybody that you like a challenge when you see one.” You spoke as you leaned on the locked door now, “Prove it, then.”

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly oneshot #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fic:cmiyc #this is so stupid but i somehow like it so i will post it #pierre gasly #alpha tauri #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #pierre gasly x you

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hey-kae · 2 years

Text

Mini You

Pairing: Dad!Pierre Gasly x female reader

Request: hello! i’m back with another request. this one is based on a tiktok i saw: pierre and the reader (they don’t necessarily have to be married) have a son (he would be like 2 years old) and pierre planned a boys day with charles and of course he brings his son with him so the reader has the idea to dress their son exactly like pierre is gonna dress and when their done she’s like “let’s go show daddy!”. just pure fluff, really!

Warnings: -

Sidenote: I’m super bad at picking out names but the child is called Théo. I hope that’s not too bad! Also, Pierre and reader are married here just because who wouldn’t want to get to call Pierre their husband?🫠 Hope you like it!!

Pierre having time off meant he would be trying to fit his little family into every activity he agrees to that would involve him leaving the house or shifting his attention elsewhere, especially his son who he was extremely attached to. Théo, who had recently turned two, was the spitting image of his father minus his lips and hair that turned out looking like yours. His eyes however, were identical to Pierre’s, the same shade of crystal blue that you found yourself adoring more and more as the years passed.

That morning, you woke up alone in bed to a loud clatter resonating through the house but originating in the kitchen. The noise wasn’t unexpected since Pierre was home on a break but the sound of pans and spoons with the laughter of your husband and the small giggles of your son was concerning.

Make no mistake, Pierre was amazing with Théo. In fact, he was so good with him, it surprised you at first. He fell so naturally into the role of a dad the second he heard his son’s first cry, tears welling up in his joyful eyes as he cradled his then new born in his arms, whispering to him soft words like “Ma vie est la tienne maintenant, petit ange.” My life is yours now, little angel. and “Je vais te protéger, toi et ta maman, jusqu'à mon dernier souffle.” I’m gonna protect you and your mom until my dying breath.

However, him with Théo in the kitchen always ended with a mess.

Yawning, you pulled yourself out of the comfortable bed and strolled lazily towards the kitchen, eyes still sleepy and brain still half asleep. Once you reached the open door, your sight landed on Pierre, shirtless and only dressed in loose shorts, facing Théo who was sat up on the counter, giggling as his father tickled his stomach. You stood still and watched them for a moment, trying hard to ignore the pile of plates and bowls stacked up beside them right by a batch of burnt pancakes.

It was rather admirable how much these two enjoyed each other’s company, how entertaining they found each other despite how young Théo still was. Their interactions were most definitely your favorite things to ever watch as they seemed to prove how good of a job you had done when you fell in love with Pierre and decided that he was the one person you wanted to call your lifelong partner, your husband and the father of your children.

“The food looks good.” You broke your silence a few seconds later, smiling and crossing your arms in front of your chest while leaning against the doorframe.

“Maman!” Mom! Théo squealed, clapping his little hands together in excitement. Pierre helped him off the counter and watched him run towards you with a smile on his face.

“Bonjour, mon ange.” You replied, mirroring his excitement and leaning down to pick him up, placing a kiss on his cheek while crossing the distance towards your husband.

“Et bonjour à toi aussi, Chef Pierre.” And good morning to you too, Chef Pierre.

With a huge grin on his face, Pierre leaned towards you and quickly pecked your lips while Théo giggled, entertaining himself with your hair.

“Je crois pas qu’on pourrait manger ça.” I don’t think we’ll he able to eat this. He cringed, gesturing towards the pancakes.

“Ah, vraiment? Je ne l’aurais jamais deviné si tu ma pas dis!” Oh, really? I wouldn’t never guessed it if you didn’t tell me! You teased as you took in the kitchen’s disastrous state.

Pierre was quick to take notice of your dreading gaze.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll do the cleaning.” He smiled at you assuringly, “But then I’ll need you to dress Théo and prepare his things ‘cause i want to take him out with me today.” He said, turned around and immediately started loading the dishwasher.

You put Théo down on the floor since he had begun to complain about being held and went to help Pierre.

“Hm, where are you taking him?” You curiously asked.

“I would’ve invited you but it’s kind of a boys day. I haven’t seen the guys in a while and Charles is in town right now so… yeah. Unless you stick on a fake mustache, you can’t really go.” He grinned, his eyes still repeatedly drifting off the check on his son who was now sat on the floor, playing with a miniature F1 car and making car sounds as he pushed it around on the floor. You and Pierre took him to the paddock only once before deciding that he was still far too young for that environment but even a while later, Théo still imitated the sound of the cars while playing.

Much to Pierre’s amusement, Théo refused to play with the Alpha Tauri car, always picking out ones that had bright colors instead. His favorites seemed to be the McLaren and the Ferrari, both gifted to him, one from Charles and the other from Lando, each of them obvious from who. Pierre would try to sneak the Alpha Tauri one into Théo’s hands but it would end up getting chucked away seconds later, leaving you laughing while your husband watched your son in frustration.

“Bah, je sais que ce n’est pas la meilleure voiture mais papa est le pilote de celle-ci.” Well, I know it's not the best car but dad is the driver of it. He would try to explain to his son, repeatedly pointing to the white and navy car, only to get ignored by Théo.

“How do you know he wouldn’t be bored halfway through the day? He might start bugging you.” You asked Pierre, wanting him to fully enjoy his day with his friends.

“He wants to go.” He shrugged. “N’est-ce pas, Théo? Tu veux partir avec papa, mon petit homme? Tu veux que tu passe la journée avec papa et ses amis?” Isn’t that right, Théo? You wanna go with dad, my little man? You wanna spend the day with dad and his friends? He picked him up, tickling his stomach and smiling as Théo giggled and clapped his hands.

You watched them with a soft smile of adoration, deep down knowing that Pierre would end up taking Théo with him no matter what.

“Oui! Partire avec papa!” Théo beamed with an adorable smile on his small face.

“Alors, dit a maman qu’elle doit t’habiller, mon ange.” So, tell mommy that she has to dress you, my angel. Pierre let him go and he ran towards you, clasping his small fingers around your hand and dragging you to his room.

You flashed Pierre a quick grin and walked by Théo’s little figure, you attention constantly on his steps, making sure he wouldn’t stumble or trip until you reached his room.

As you picked him up and sat him on the chair by his bed, you realized the mess from the kitchen had gone further than what you had noticed. The back part of Théo’s hair had traces of flour and he smelled like burned pancakes.

“My god, Pierre.” You expressed your annoyance. Your son couldn’t speak english yet, you and Pierre having decided to stick with french for now to avoid confusing him, but he smiled widely at the mention of his father’s name.

“Papa!” He beamed.

“Oui, mon petit. Papa. I’m gonna kill him.” You said with a big smile, caressing your son’s blushed cheeks with love before carrying him to the bathroom to clean him up.

Ten minutes later, Théo had clean hair and smelled fresh again. Now, you only had to decide what to dress him in. That’s when you realized you had no clue where they were going, therefore you had no idea what type of outfit would be best.

Making sure Théo was safely sat on his bed, you left the room to question Pierre about his plans. First, you checked the kitchen but found it empty and decently clean now. Smiling, you made your way to yours and Pierre’s bedroom. The door was slightly opened so you went in instantly.

Pierre was stood in front of the mirror, now dressed in white shorts and a baby blue shirt along with his blue and white jordans, fixing his hair and putting on perfume.

It almost immediately resurfaced in your mind that Théo had almost identical clothes so instead of asking Pierre about what should you dress Théo in, you decided to just imitate his outfit.

You pretended you needed your phone to check the time when your husband took notice of your presence in the room, his eyes following your movements while a small smile played on his face.

“You look good.” You complimented him, wrapping your arms around him for a few seconds, giving him a kiss slightly longer than the one you exchanged in the kitchen in presence of your young son.

“Merci, chérie.” He smiled once you pulled away, squeezing you closer to him before you let go, making your way back out of the room.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. You heard him say once you were in the hallway.

Smiling as you walked, you replied with a teasing “Je sais” I know and waiting to hear his reaction, a small laugh, before you said the words back.

“Je t’aime aussi.” I love you too.

Walking into Théo’s room, you found him still sat quietly on the bed, entertaining himself with a bunch of toys by his side.

“Tu veux t’habiller comme papa?” You wanna dress like dad? Je smiled at him as you pulled his closet open.

“Comme papa!” Like dad! He was clearly excited, moving to get off the bed.

You rushed to his side, helping him off and letting him join you by the wardrobe as you pulled out his white shorts and put them on him, his adorable blue eyes watching your every movement as you did.

Then you started searching for Théo’s shirt that matched Pierre’s, grinning as you found that it’s color was basically identical to his father’s.

“Pierre vas être si content quand il te verra habillé comme lui, petit ange.” Pierre is gonna be so happy when he sees you dressed like him, little angel. You started imagining your husband’s reaction to the outfit, your heart already swelling just from thinking about it.

Following that, you pulled out the tiny looking Nike box, fishing out the shoes identical to Pierre’s from inside it.

The memories of when Pierre came home from a trip with the small jordans with him made their way back to your mind. Théo had repeatedly pointed out that his shoes matched his fathers, making both of you and Pierre laugh at how adorable the small Nikes looked on his feet.

The outfit was completed after you managed to put the shoes on Théo’s feet, him complaining a bit about having to ditch being barefoot. Luckily, with a bit of sweet-talking, it all worked out.

You took a step back, smiling widely at how adorable your son looked then quickly packed him a change pf clothes along with a few essentials in a small bag Pierre would have to keep in his car just in case things got messy.

“Allez-y, on va montrer papa maintenant!” Come on, we’re gonna show dad now! You clasped his little hand with his and he walked beside you with the biggest, most adorable smile on his face.

Once you two reached the living room, before you were in Pierre’s line of view, you spoke up to warn him so Théo’s outfit would stay a surprise.

“Pierre, ferme les yeux. Théo a une surprise pour toi.” Pierre, close your eyes. Théo has a surprise for you.

The little guy beside you giggled, his hand over his smiling mouth as you waited a few seconds before appearing in the door with him.

You gave Théo a small pat on the shoulder, gesturing for him to go to Pierre. With a small chuckle, he eagerly ran to his father, climbing quickly onto his lap and poking his cheek.

“Regarde!” He beamed, both of you waiting for Pierre to open his eyes now.

As soon as Pierre caught a glimpse of Théo, a wide smile appeared on his face. He got up and placed Théo on the ground, crouching down in front of him with heart eyes that made your heart feel like it was gonna burst out of your chest.

“T’es très beau, mon ange et tu t’es habillé comme moi? Maman vas être si jalouse maintenant! Que va-t-on faire?” You are so handsome, my angel and you’re dressed like me? Mom is gonna be so jealous now! What are we gonna do? Pierre grinned with a love packed expression, his eyes glistening as he looked at his son.

Théo, clearly more than happy being the center of his father’s attention, giggled and wrapped his small hands around Pierre’s neck.

“Je t’aime, mon petit amour.” I love you, my little love. Pierre spoke into the hug, his eyes closing as his arms wrapped around his young son, his heart nearly bursting with love for the small family the two of you had created.

“Je t’aime, papa!” Théo was quick to reply while his father picked him up and sat him on the couch before heading your way.

“Thank you so much for this, chérie. I am so lucky to have you and Théo. I love you beyond words.” He brought you to his chest and kissed your temples.

Nothing compared to being in Pierre’s arms. The feelings of serenity and safety his hugs provided you were to die for. It was yet another reason as to why you were so thankful for his presence in your life and for the fact that he was the father of your child, knowing that Théo would grow up always feeling safe by his side and in his presence.

“I love you too, i love you so much.” You said back, smiling into his chest before pulling away since he probably should get going.

Your gaze drifted back to Théo who was watching with a smile, his expression and facial features looking too much like Pierre’s.

“He’s a mini you, i swear!” You chuckled, “Kinda not fair ‘cause i’m the one who carried him for 9 months but whatever.” You childishly but jokingly complained, Pierre chuckling at your remark.

“Next one will look like you. Hopefully, at least.” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully, moving a bit to retrieve Théo’s things that you prepared.

“This has everything you might need.” You handed him the bag, “If he starts bugging you about leaving, just give me a call and i’ll pick him up.”

Pierre nodded, pulling the bag over his shoulder and picking Théo up, heading to the front door.

“Have fun!” You told Pierre, continuing in french so Théo would understand, “Au revoir, mes amours!” See you later, my loves! You blew them a kiss, your son quickly returning it as Pierre waved goodbye to you before disappearing out the door.

When the front door clicked shut and silence reigned over the house, you fell back against the couch, planning out your day in your head. You were eager for some quiet and relaxation as that seemed almost impossible with Pierre and Théo around, together forming quite the chaotic duo around the house.

Though you were so grateful for some alone time, it was undeniable that you’d miss their presence throughout the day.

#pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly oneshots #pierre gasly drabble #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly imagine #f1 fic #f1 oneshots #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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