#Pierre Gasly x poc!oc

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {1}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Summary: Brianna Vowles grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with her father and Uncle Otmar in Formula One, until she went to college. Suddenly her life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, she graduated with her engineering degree and had decided to use her VIP pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, domestic violence survivor, lots of drama and fluff, this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || under construction

The air was thick with the fumes of high octane fuel and the smoke from burnt rubber tyres. The high keening of the engines reached deafening levels as the race cars left the pits and took to the track. Flags of all colours waved from the stands in support of the drivers from a dozen nations.

It was an absolute assault on the senses.

I couldn’t believe it had been five years since I last submerged myself in the chaotic atmosphere, but there had been more important things to worry about and I had been to the off-track events now and again to keep in touch. 

Fresh off from graduating with my degree, I was ready to take some time out and have a bit of fun before starting my next adventure. Though the job I had lined up wouldn’t wait forever, they had given me the summer to enjoy. And enjoy it I would, I deserved it.

These weekends used to be what I lived for. Uncle Otmar would set me up with my own chair and headset along the pit wall of his team while my dad worked behind the scenes in the FIA. The team was my family and the paddock was a home away from home. 

Sometimes I regretted leaving and going to college but I had been envious of the other young adults having a normal life. Then I realised that no matter how hard those years had been I was given the greatest gift that I wouldn’t change for the world, she was worth the pain and suffering I endured. 

I grinned at my daughter perched on my hip but she was too absorbed in the action around us to see. The tiny pair of earmuffs looked huge on her but the roar of the engines was too loud to go without the safety gear and I couldn’t wait to reach the pits and get my own set. 

“Bri!” Kelly called out as I was passing the door to Red Bull and I barely had time to greet her before she was pulling Adelaide from my arms. “Look how big you are getting, belíssimo,” she cooed as Addie clapped excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t really planned on it,” I answered as I gave her a kiss on the cheek and hugged her daughter Penelope. “Coming back though, I really missed this.”

“Good, then you’ll keep coming and I can get my smooches from this gorgeous wee girl. Yes, you’ll be a Red Bull girl won’t you?”

“Otmar won’t get you any Christmas presents if he hears that.” Adelaide has no idea what either of us were talking about but at two years old she was just happy to get all the attention. “Speaking of, I should hurry up and find where he is.”

“I can look after Addie,” Kelly offered, unwilling to hand her back just yet. “Then you can catch up without a distraction.”

“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting to be a burden.

“Can she play with my dolls, please?” Penelope begged and Kelly nodded with a smile that eased my concern.

I tucked a long strand of hair behind Penelope’s ear and said, “Of course she can.”

My steps away were slow and I looked back twice after saying goodbye to Addie but, aside from a short wave, her attention was on Penelope and the Barbie doll she was offering. If anything changed Kelly had my number and she would be able to find Alpine’s pit stop easy enough. 

“Brianna, there you are.” Otmar’s voice was barely audible over the noise in the pit lane but I found his hand waving from where he sat at the Control Centre along the pit wall.

It had only been a few weeks since I last saw my uncle, though it was a loose term when we were not related by blood. Otmar was my father’s best friend and a constant in my life until I left for college. The two had grown up together, practically like brothers, and I had been raised with Otmar’s kids - homeschooled on the road during race season. 

When I reached him, Otmar spared a quick second to give me a hug before handing me a headset with a welcoming smile. “Where’s little Addie?”

“With Kelly. It’s a cleverly disguised strategy to distract Red Bull from the race.”

Otmar laughed heartily and shook his head at the fib but he also knew if Addie was around him while he was trying to watch the qualifiers she would definitely distract him so maybe it was a smart move. 

“How are we looking?” Otmar asked as I glanced over the readings on the screen in front of him and listened to the drivers give commentary on the drive.

“Looks promising,” I said with a pat on his shoulder, proud of the work he had done with the team since joining them, “but you know how Monaco is.” 

“It’s all about the starting position,” he finished with a serious nod before giving all his attention to the lap times.

Otmar had always been a man of few words when I was younger, but when he spoke it was always well thought out and meaningful. That did not apply when he was in his seat at the pit wall. Curses tumbled from his mouth with each lap and I realised how sheltered he and my father had kept me from this side of the sport. Hearing each swear word just made me smile wider.

The heat of Monaco was beginning to get to me when Otmar’s Alpine drivers finally made it through qualifying without any major incidents and respectable starting places of 5th and 9th in the grid for race day. If they could hold those positions and get points then the team would be in a good place for the Constructors Championship. 

“Come, come,” Otmar said as he took off his headset and tossed it on his chair. “When was the last time you came to a race?”

I pursed my lips as I thought back through the years. “You were still with Force India, maybe 5 years ago?”

“Ah, so you won’t have met my drivers.” He grinned as he led the way into the workshop and through to the cooldown rooms that lay beyond, accepting handshakes and congratulations along the way. “5th place, well done, good spirit out there,” he bolstered excitedly as he reached a man still kitted out in his riding suit and clapped him on the back. The man turned around and I saw the embroidered name Pierre on his suit but I had seen his pictures like the other drivers on posters around the paddock. 

Pierre grinned at his boss and shook his hand before the pair of stunning green eyes turned to me with a hint of confusion. All of the other people in the workshop were wearing Alpine uniforms or jumpsuits like the pit crew but I stood out in a floral day dress better suited for the warm weather on the Mediterranean coastline.

“Pierre, this is my niece, Brianna, she will be with us for the weekend,” Otmar introduced. “So give her a good show.”

Pierre blinked a little stunned at the news but nodded and held his hand out with a polite, “It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know he had a niece.” 

His French accent rolled beautifully off his tongue and his palm was hot in my hand from the gloves he had worn on the track as I shook it. “He doesn’t,” I corrected with a smile. “He grew up with my dad and spent so long at my Nan’s house she pretty much adopted him as her own.”

He smiled at the statement before wincing and rubbing his jawline. Concern washed over me as he looked pained and I stepped closer out of reflex, my motherly instincts kicking in. “Are you alright?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he dismissed with a blatant lie before repeating it to Otmar. 

“If you’re sure,” Otmar double checked with a pointed look. “Okay, go see Kim for your warm down then meet us in the den for debriefing. Bri, come meet Esteban.”

I waved to Pierre as I was led away to the other driver in a matching jumpsuit but his had been half opened and was tied loosely around his waist. This driver was far more reserved as Otmar introduced me and I could see he was too wrapped up in replaying the laps in his head to converse properly but his lower starting place compared to his teammate was weighing heavily on him. 

Seeing the lacklustre effort the young man was putting in, Otmar sighed and clapped him on the back before giving him the same instructions as Pierre and sending him on his way. Once he was out of ear shot, Otmar leaned in closer and murmured, “We are working on rebuilding his confidence but I have high hopes for him this season.”

“He’s still on track for points, if he can just get out of his own head I think he’ll make you proud.” Otmar clapped his hands to get the attention of the others scattered around the room and called them into the den which was just a large room full of chairs where the engineers and pit crew could discuss where improvements could be made before tomorrow's race. “Just a little more of your time today folks, then we can go and rest before the team dinner tonight.”

A lot of the teams went their separate ways after leaving the pits, going back to their private motorhomes or hotels and getting an early night but Otmar believed that a team was a family and that extended to mealtime being a shared event. It was an odd belief to hold in such a competitive sport but it made me respect him all the more for trying to build trust and loyalty into the team instead of just the will to win. 

“May I sit here?” Pierre asked politely as he appeared in a skintight shirt and jeans, his hair still damp from the quick shower he took. 

I gestured to the empty seat, though there were plenty of other ones around the room including one on the other side of Otmar. “Be my guest.”

All through the debrief I couldn’t help but notice Pierre shifting beside me, constantly rubbing at the stubble that shadowed his jaw and wincing. I couldn’t concentrate on the information that was being shared knowing he was in pain and everyone else failed to see it. 

Finally when the room began to empty I placed a hand on his arm before he could follow and leant closer since he obviously didn’t want anyone to know. “You should talk to the medic,” I whispered into his ear.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he assured me as he turned to face me, the citrus scent of his body wash filling my lungs. 

“Fine, if you won’t talk to them then talk to me.” I gave him the same look I give my daughter when she has been caught red handed and he looked away as it worked its magic.

“My, er, the big teeth at the back?”

“Wisdom?” I offered, with a grimace as I remembered the pain of having them removed.

“Yeah, wisdom teeth, they are coming through. Guess I am finally getting wise.”

“Better late than never,” I teased as I opened my handbag and rifled through the pockets before triumphantly pulling out a small blue tube. “Here, try this.”

“Bonjela?” he read before flipping it over and seeing it was for teething babies and cocking his eyebrow at me.

“It works for adults too, just rub some on your gums and it will numb them for a while. It’s a miracle worker, trust me. I have a-” I was cut off by a familiar voice calling out for me and turned to see Kelly weaving through the Alpine crew with her Red Bull hat standing out. 

“Mama!” Addie broke away from Kelly and rushed forward. 

“Sorry,” Kelly apologised. “She was missing you.”

“It’s alright,” I said with a smile as I bent down to catch Addie’s flailing arms. “Addie, say thank you to Ti-Ti for looking after you.”

Adelaide turned to Kelly and thanked her the best she could for a two year old and waved to Penelope before they headed back to the Red Bill garage where Max was waiting.

“Who is this little princess?” Pierre asked as he knelt down beside me to Addie’s height. 

“This is my daughter, Adelaide. Addie, this is mummy’s new friend, Pierre.” 

“Hi Pear,” she copied and he laughed at the attempt before looking around like he was expecting someone else. It wasn’t uncommon.

“He’s not in the picture,” I said quietly while Adelaide told a convoluted story about the Barbie doll and Penelope. Pierre’s encouraging smile for Adelaide to continue her story wavered when he looked across at me with his eyebrows pinched. “It’s a long story and not a pretty one.”

He sighed with understanding and placed a light hand on my knee. “You can talk to me if you ever need,” he offered before waving the blue tube in his hand. “I owe you.”

The heat of his hand was like fire on my skin and I let it fall from my knee as I stood up and stepped back. A fog had filled my head and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say as I stood staring at him. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried dating since Adelaide was born but I could never get past the point of physical touch. Not after Erik. He had tainted me. 

I would have been frozen in that state all afternoon if Otmar hadn’t come to see Addie. His arrival shocked me out of the moment and released the breath I had been holding, trying to slow the rapid beating in my chest. 

“Sorry,” I muttered when I finally dared a glance at Pierre who chewed on his bottom lip, those striking green eyes full of concern. I had to break away from them and regain my composure so I turned to Otmar instead. “I’m gonna go take Addie to the hotel for a nap, but I’ll come find you later for dinner.”

Otmar pouted playfully as he handed Addie over from the cuddle they were having and said he would send a car to pick us up at 5pm. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and struggled to say goodbye to Pierre without my cheeks catching fire while I relived the embarrassing moment over in my head. 

“Bye Otty,” Addie called out over my shoulder. “Bye Pear!”

Pierre’s reply was instant and I almost stumbled as he spoke in his native tongue, “Au revoir, princesse.”

Click here for chapter two.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames || PG10

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Brianna Vowles (Original Female Character) Summary: I grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with my dad and Uncle Otmar following Formula One, until I went to college. Suddenly my life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, I graduated my engineering degree and had decided to use my paddock pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, smut, domestic violence, medical events Current Word Count: 66.3k Chapters: Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10 || Ch.11 || Ch.12 || Ch.13 || Ch.14 || Ch.15 || Ch.16 || Ch.17 || Ch.18 || Ch.19 || Ch.20 || Ch.21 || Ch.22 || Ch.23 || Ch.24 || Ch.25 || Ch.26 || Ch.27 || Ch.28 || Ch.29 || Ch.30 || Epilogue 1/2 || Epilogue 2/2

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running From The Flames {Epilogue 1/2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: parenting - that should be a warning lmao, sexual themes

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Epilogue 2/2

There was only one word to describe my life and that word was: chaotic. That being said, I still wouldn’t change it for the world.

The family calendar on the fridge was completely full and colour coded so we could all see where we were needed on any given day. Even so, I still lost track of my husband or our kids at least once a week. 

“Sydney, honey, have you seen your father?” I asked the spitting image of Pierre who was in the race simulator. He was always in the machine, practising for his upcoming debut into Formula 4 now that he had turned 15 and could move up from karting. 

“Picking up Addie from the airport.” He barely looked away from the triplet of screens in front of him as he answered with all the attitude of a teenage boy being interrupted in life. “It’s on the fridge.”

I looked at the calendar and realised I was looking at the completely wrong day. “Shit.”

“Ha,” he laughed loudly as he navigated the virtual track of the Red Bull Ring. “You forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” I said as I scanned over the correct day and saw I had a board meeting to prepare for tomorrow. “I just thought it was Tuesday today.”

“Whatever you say, maman. You can tell me I’m your favourite, I won’t say anything.”

“I don’t have a favourite, I love you all equally. Now, can you finish that game and go do your homework? You still need to pack your bag for the weekend too.”

Addie was coming home from London for the week, taking a little break from her own busy schedule, to watch Sydney’s first race with us in Austria. 

It had been difficult to let her leave home at 18 but she had worked hard to get a place in the Arsenal Women’s Under 21 team. I had left home at the same age and Pierre had left even earlier, so we were hardly the exemplary figures to deny her. All we could do was make sure she stayed safe and she knew she could call either of us 24/7 if she needed help. It was also never that long between visits, making plenty of stopovers in England as we travelled. 

The travelling for work was tiresome but so far we had yet to miss a football match on Saturday or a karting race on Sunday. It did help being our own bosses so Pierre and I could manage our schedule around the kids. He had been running Strauss Fashion for the better part of the last ten years, after Granny finally retired properly, while I had been the Chief Technical Officer at Alpine, which Grandpa had purchased. 

When Harry passed away three years ago I found myself suddenly thrust into the ownership of the team and though there were plenty of offers to sell it, I decided to take the leap of faith and see where the journey would take me. I hadn’t looked back and so far we had two Constructors' Championship wins with our seasoned pilots, Gabriele Minì and Oliver Bearman.

We had come so far, it was hard to believe until I saw the wisps of grey hairs among the dark strands. 

“Maman!” I was pulled from my reminiscence and looked at my watch to realise how quickly the afternoon had gotten away from me as Clare bounded through the front door and leapt into my arms. “Maman, look!”

Clare had been a wonderful surprise that completed our family two years ago. After Sydney’s unexpected and frightening early arrival Pierre had been reluctant to try for another child, though he had always wanted three. I thought maybe he would change his mind after the terrifying memory faded with time but then a few years passed, we both got caught up in work, and after that it seemed too hard to imagine returning to sleepless nights with a newborn. 

But, the universe had other plans for us. What I thought was a long-enduring hangover, after celebrating the rebranding of Alpine into Gasly Racing, actually turned out to be morning sickness. Those final weeks before her birth were stressful enough to send Pierre to his doctor for a vasectomy but thankfully her arrival went exactly to plan and he could breathe calmly once again. 

“Hello my Clare-bear, wow, you have another bracelet.” You quirked an eyebrow at Charles as he arrived with Clare’s backpack on his shoulder and her spare carseat under his arm. “Uncle Charles has absolutely spoiled you.”

“Of course. A princess deserves it,” he stated proudly as he placed her belongings down and nodded his head to the simulator. “Is he all ready for the big day?”

“He is, I’m not sure I am,” I admitted as I put Clare down and she immediately went to interrupt Sydney by climbing onto his lap mid-race. If it was anyone else they would have received an earful but he just paused the game and listened as she told him all about her day at Uncle Charles’ house. “God help me when he gets to Formula One, I think I’ll have to revert the car back to a slower predecessor for my own sanity.”

Charles laughed but I wasn’t completely joking. The cars were so much faster than they were when he and PIerre raced. Though the safety features improved along with the technology that made them rockets on wheels it was still difficult to imagine putting my little boy inside one and sending it off. 

“You could keep him as a reserve driver,” Charles offered before shaking his head at the thought and taking a seat at the kitchen island. “But he’s stubborn like his father, he’d just find another team to race for.”

“No way, I can at least trust my own team to keep him safe. Same goes for Marc.”

Charles chuckled at the mention of his son who at 8 years old he was already a junior karting champion. “He said someone called him Il Predestinato after his race last weekend.”

“Yikes, I’m sure they meant it in a good way.”

The front door opened again and Addie blew in with all the gusto of a tornado, whipping around the rooms to greet everyone before she was up the stairs to her old room. Entering a little more sedately was my husband, his arms laden with more suitcases than anyone needed for a week away, especially when she still had a wardrobe full of clothes upstairs. 

“You are lucky you only have sons,” Pierre said to Charles as he kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t work out enough anymore to be carrying this shit.” 

He dropped the suitcases in front of the elevator and hit the call button rather than carrying them up the stairs before pushing them inside as the door opened. After a few bad winters, where not even the central heating could keep the aches of my bones at bay, Pierre had made the call for the elevator to be installed and it had been a godsend in moments like this when heavy items needed to make it to the floors above.

Sticking his head up the staircase he called out, “Addie, your entire life and everything but the kitchen sink is heading your way.”

“Thanks, dad!”

“What was that about?” I asked after he joined us in the kitchen while the coffee machine churned out our usual drinks. “I thought she outgrew the ‘I’m too cool to hangout with my parents’ phase.”

Pierre's lips pressed together and he took a seat next to Charles, picking up Clare who had left Sydney to return to his practice. “Elias.”

“Vettel?” Charles asked, his eyebrows lifting when Pierre nodded and pushed his mug away so Clare couldn’t reach the hot liquid.

“They have been out on a few dates, apparently. I’ll have to ask Davis about it, assuming he went with them, it’s not like it’s his job or anything. Did you know that?”

I shook my head at the news, cradling my mug in my hands as I leaned against the bench and wondered if she had ditched her bodyguard once again. “He’s a sweet boy from what I remember, much like his father.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t care who his dad is,” Pierre grumbled before repeating, “You are so lucky you only have sons, mate. Teenage girls are stressful.”

“Ah, but I have two boys who think it is funny to have a competition to see who can fart the loudest,” Charles said as he took a sip of his drink.

“I mean, that’s kind of funny,” Pierre said with a smirk.

Charles sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Not when one always pushes too hard to win.”

The sip I was taking went the wrong way and I spluttered as Pierre laughed, “It’s all shits and giggles, until someone giggles and shits.”

“To think my poor mother went through this too. Drives me insane, mate. Bet you’ve never had to worry about that?”

“Thankfully, no,” I answered after recovering from choking on coffee. “But it also wasn’t bad enough to stop you from having another.”

“And on that note, I should get going. Mia won’t let me back in the house if I don’t pick up her favourite carbonara on the way home.” He smiled as he thought of his wife’s pregnancy cravings. It was the same one she had when she was carrying Marc and Antonio so it came as no surprise at the gender reveal when the backyard was splattered with blue confetti. “Thank you for letting me borrow Clare.”

“Any time,” Pierre chuckled as he clapped his friend on the back. Charles had been busy reinstalling all the baby gates and safety locks in his home, despite the baby boy not even being born yet, and wanted a toddler to help test his craftsmanship. “I won’t complain about a little free babysitting.”

Charles placed his empty mug in the sink and before kissing the top of Clare’s thick wavy hair. “Bye petite chérie, I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Bye Uncle Charles,” she said with a wave, but it sounded more like Unk Cha and made him laugh as he approached the simulator.

I saw Sydney pause the race and Charles crouched down beside him, sharing a few quiet words of encouragement for the upcoming debut race. I couldn’t help feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many supportive people and my smile grew as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. 

I turned to meet his lips over my shoulder and the magnetism that attracted us was still evident even after 17 years. Of course, like any relationship, there had been times when stress led to arguments and I would find him hours later in a spare bed, wide awake because he couldn’t sleep without me beside him. Those fights never lasted long enough to even remember what they were about and forgiveness came easy.

I turned in my husband’s arms and draped mine around his neck to admire him. Pierre was truly like a fine wine. Age had made him even more handsome and the small wrinkles at the corners of his lips and eyes were a testament to a life that was full of smiles and laughter. 

“Addie said she’ll watch the kids tonight,” Pierre whispered in my ear as he gently swayed to the melodic tune of his voice and I hummed with contentment. “And I got us a table at L'Ambroisie. You’ve been working so hard I thought we could do with a night away, just the two of us.”

“You think I don’t know your game, baby,” I whispered back, all too aware Charles was still chatting with Sydney and imparting some real world advice. “Wine and dine, pretty words, a hotel room. There’s only one thing you want.”

His lips curled into a smile against my cheek. “You know me too well.”

“You would actually get a full night’s sleep if you put your foot down.”

Pierre looked over at Clare who had helped herself to a banana from the fruit bowl and as if sensing she had been caught she looked up with an innocent smile. “How can I tell her no when she looks like that?”

“Mhmm, and that’s why she keeps climbing into our bed. You are a big softy.”

His smirk was flirty and fun as his arms tightened around me, pulling our bodies flush together. His breath was hot on my neck as he hid his face in the curtain of my hair. “Not tonight, ma femme. Tonight you will see just how hard I can be.”

Pierre backed up with a smirk but not before he sucked at the sensitive skin above my racing pulse. He knew exactly what he was doing and the smugness showed as he whistled a little tune on his way to help Clare peel the banana.

Shaking my head, I made my way to the stairs and said goodbye to Charles with the message to remind Mia that our plans for a spa day had been booked - but that didn’t mean he could slack off from the ankle massages he was giving her each night. He gave an amused salut but I didn’t see it as I pressed the button for the elevator. He was well used to the reminders by now, it wasn’t his first rodeo.

Knowing my evening plans had changed I went to my office and shut the door to silence the music drifting down the hall from Addie’s room. As CEO of Gasly Racing there was an endless stream of paperwork to be checked and signed, especially with the new expansion plan for the factory about to break ground. On top of that were the invites to attend fundraisers or speeches to prepare for the various charities I was ambassador for such as Women's Refuge.

When I finally emerged with my inbox up to date I could hear the laughter of all my children from where they lounged in front of the tv and the sound never ceased to make me smile. I had missed the sound since Addie moved out because it was rare to have all five of us here at the same time and I was reluctant to leave even for just one night when it came time to pack an overnight bag.

“We are allowed one night away, mon amour,” Pierre said as he stepped into the master bedroom to see me hesitating to step inside the wardrobe. “You and me, no interruptions.”

I relaxed into his embrace and sighed as he brushed my hair over one shoulder before kissing my collar. “And what were you planning that was so important it couldn’t be interrupted?”

His chuckle sent a shiver of delight down my spine and his fingers trailed down my ribs to the hem of my shirt before they slipped underneath the material to caress the soft skin over my stomach. I had to take a shaky breath when his thumbs caught the waistband of my skirt and I held it as I waited for them to hook underneath.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear and my lips parted in anticipation of his dirty words. “To sleep.”

“Huh?” I blinked twice, peeking over my shoulder to see his green eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“To sleep. Why, what were you thinking?” He tried to look innocent but when he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and his hand slipped down beneath my skirt he let the truth show. “Did you want me to tell you how I am dying for a taste of you? How I can’t wait to have these sexy legs wrapped around me when I make love to you tonight? I don’t need to tell you, baby, I’ll show you.”

I knew he could feel how damp my panties were for him from the smirk on his face and I almost whimpered when he withdrew his hand from where I needed it. “Now pack your bag, and make it quick, I’m absolutely ravenous.”

I bit my lip at the depth of his tone and knew exactly what it was he was dying to taste. I didn’t even look at what I was packing, tossing the first items that touched my hands before he stopped me and grabbed one dress instead. 

“This one,” he said as he held a colourful sundress that I rarely wore anymore, a soft smile warming his eyes. “It’s my favourite.”

Click here for the final chapter. 🥺

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running From The Flames {Epilogue 2/2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: none but it’s the end 😭

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Pierre had gone on the first airport run just after sunrise to pick up his parents before going back a few hours later to get mine.

“Thank you, my love,” I said as I stole a fleeting kiss from him while I tried to make breakfast for Clare and dodge a half-asleep Addie as she made a protein shake. “Did you not sleep well, sweetheart?”

She had her own hotel room but since Sydney was the one with the blender she had sauntered across the hall barefoot with the tub of powder and grumbled a good morning to us.

“She was on the phone to her boyfriend all night,” Sydney teased before catching the apple she tossed at him with the quick reflexes he got from his father. He was still laughing as he took a bite of it. “Yum, thanks, sis.”

I placed the bowl of cereal at the table for Clare and pushed her chair in before putting the kettle on for a round of tea for their grandparents. “So Elias? He’s a sweet kid.”

“Not a kid,” Addie corrected before the blender roared to life and I waited for it to turn silent again.

“Fair enough, he’s a nice young man - like his father. Have you two been hanging out for long?”

Addie rolled her eyes as she poured the shake into a bottle. “No one says ‘hang out’ anymore. We have been on a few dates and yeah, he’s nice, but it’s just a bit of fun.”

I winced at the word and looked around to see if Pierre had left the room yet and thankfully he had. “Don’t let your father hear that. Just make sure you’re being careful okay, sweetheart?”

“She means, make sure Elias wraps it before he taps it!” Sydney yelled from the living room.

An irritated growl rumbled from his sister as she slammed her bottle on the bench. “Shut up, Sloth!”

“Ma!”

“Addie, please don’t call him that,” I sighed as the recurring argument began, simultaneously with the headache that always joined it. “Syd, focus on getting ready. We need to leave soon.”

It was a miracle everyone made it to the race track on time on Sunday. It may have been simpler to herd bulls than it was to coordinate everyone that had travelled across the world to witness Sydney's first F4 race.

It was only after leaving the hotel that the nerves finally hit me. I had no more distractions of getting everyone organised and suddenly I was young again as I remembered the worry of watching Pierre race. But this was much worse.

Pierre found me in the corporate boxes above the pit lane. Few people were there yet, but it would be full by the afternoon when the F1 race began.

“Relax,” Pierre soothed as he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. His warm lips softly brushed my cheek and I felt some of the tension leave my body. “He’s smart like his mother, he’s not reckless like I was.”

“God, I hope Clare still wants to be a chef when she grows up. I don’t think I could handle going through this again.”

Pierre laughed softly and started to lead me back inside where the stairs to the garage were. “Be brave just a little longer.”

There were more people in the garage there to support Sydney than there were mechanics and I felt emotion swell in my chest when Sydney walked in with his race suit on and helmet in hand. Clare was clapping wildly from Uncle Charles’ shoulders and Addie broke out in a grin as she recorded the moment.

“Go fast, Flash,” Addie said seriously, and he didn’t even complain about the sloth reference as he nodded and returned her hug. “But drive safe.”

“Will do,” he promised before he turned to Pierre and I. My arms started to open and he dove into the hug as Pierre’s arms came around us both. “I can do this, right?” he whispered.

“Of course you can. You can do anything you put your mind to, honey,” I assured him as his father kissed his head and echoed the sentiment.

“We will be proud of you no matter what, mon fils. It doesn’t matter where you finish, just enjoy the moment.”

I watched how his sincere words eased our son's mind and Sydney stepped back with a nod, even managing a small nervous smile. My arm curled around Pierre’s waist as we watched Sydney climb into the cockpit and pull his helmet on. “Have fun,” I said after pulling my headset on. “We love you.”

I could almost see his cheeks turn pink from beneath his visor but he managed to mumble a reply. “Love you too.”

“Bri,” Pierre groaned, “mon ange, my ribs.”

“Shit, sorry, love,” I apologised as I eased my grip on him. “I’m okay, I’m okay. I can do this.”

“You just have to watch,” Pierre laughed.

“Just you wait,” I warned with a laugh of my own. “You say that like it’s easy, but you’ve never been on this side of the fence.”

Pierre fell silent as the single seater car left the garage and followed the other drivers around the track to stop at the starting grid. The formation lap speed already had my heart pumping hard but as that finished I knew it would be a whole lot faster in a few short seconds.

Five red lights set the mark.

Pierre’s hand slipped into mine.

Four red lights.

His fingers trembled before squeezing tight.

Three red lights.

I chanced a glance at my husband and saw his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. “I’m scared,” he whispered.

Two red lights.

I reached for the gold chain only to remember it was around Sydney’s neck. The gold pendant with the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe had brought me plenty of luck over the years and I prayed it did the same for Sydney too.

One red light.

Dropping my hand back to Pierre’s, I squeezed him back. “He’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Lights out and away we go.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {30}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, c-section/surgery

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Of all the plans we had in place for the birth none of them prepared me for how quickly the time would come. One moment we were in the ambulance, the sirens blaring as it left the circuit and raced through the city to the Women’s Hospital that was preparing for us. 

The drive seemed to take a lot longer than it really was as waves of pain lacerated my abdomen with every contraction. Yuki had quickly climbed into the front seat when Amber started to lift my skirt up but I was past the point of caring who saw me naked as long as I got good news. Pierre wasn’t though as he thanked Yuki for the privacy when he passed by him.

“I’d say you’re around 7cm dilated. And there weren’t any signs of labour earlier?”

I shook my head as Pierre bit his lip waiting for an answer. “I’ve had a sore back for weeks. It didn’t seem any worse than usual this morning and then I was distracted by the race. I should have paid more attention.”

“Hey, don’t think that,” Pierre said softly before his hand was squeezed tightly with another contraction. “How far away are we?”

“We’re here,” Yuki answered as the van turned into the complex and I finally felt a little of the fear dissipate as we came to a stop and the back doors were opened.

The world blurred as I was wheeled through the hospital to the surgical ward and then Pierre’s hand was suddenly torn from mine. With every second we continued down the hall his raised voice was fading and he asked Yuki for help telling the staff he needed to be with me. 

“I’m coming, Bri, I promise!” 

“Amber, what’s happening?” My voice was broken and she held me still as I tried to look for Pierre.

“They are getting Pierre changed into scrubs so he can come into the theatre,” she assured me and I breathed a sigh of relief. “He’ll be there in a minute.”

I wished I could understand what the doctors were saying but without Yuki I was clueless to what they were deciding about my baby and it left my palms sweating. I could do nothing but entrust our lives to them as we passed another set of doors and suddenly I was in an operating room. I might have been in a different continent but these rooms looked the same all over the globe.

Pierre’s POV

“I need to get in there,” I all but shouted as I pointed to the doors my wife had disappeared behind. “That’s my baby, I need to be there!”

Yuki’s head snapped back and forth between me and the nurse as he copied my actions and translated my frustrations. “You have to follow her and get changed. You can’t go in like that. It’s unsanitary for the baby.”

I looked down at myself, feeling the damp sweat from the race soaking my overalls and knew my hair was just as bad. “Okay, let’s go, hurry, please.”

“And you have to sign some forms.”

“Fuck, yes, whatever it is, I’ll sign it dammit.”

Too many pages, it never seemed to end, and I couldn’t concentrate on any of the words. Paperwork wasn’t my forte, that was all Bri, and she was the one that was more organised to handle this sort of thing. But she was waiting for me, relying on me to finish this so the surgery could begin so I rushed to fill out her details and sign my name as the authority.

My patience wore thin as I flipped the page and saw I needed to pretty much repeat it all over again and the pen threatened to crack in my grip. The pen only just survived the last signature before I thrust the documents into the nurse’s waiting hands.

A pair of scrubs were handed back in exchange and the nurse pointed to a bathroom, and I didn’t need Yuki to help with that instruction, I was already unzipping my overalls as I ran across the hall. I had never changed faster in my life as I stripped my fireproofs off and pulled on the pale blue scrubs, only sparing ten precious seconds to wash my face in the basin before abandoning my gear as I left the room.

“Now?” I asked, stepping towards the doors to the operating theatre as Yuki came out of the other bathroom in a set of his own scrubs. “Can I see my wife?”

“…my wife,” Pierre’s voice reached through the doors before they were pushed open and he stepped inside, the shape of Yuki waiting on the other side. “Come on.”

“I’m not good with blood,” Yuki started to respond before falling silent at the pleading look on Pierre’s face and following him in. He immediately started speaking to a nurse who had been hovering around my head. “They’re going to give you something for the pain.”

“Fuck the pain, just find out if our baby is okay,” I growled through gritted teeth as each contraction seemed to roll into the next. The surprise on Yuki’s face passed quickly as he heard a rare swear word come from my lips before he asked the question, pointing to my stomach before they rolled me onto my side.

“Stay still,” Yuki warned as he closed his eyes, wincing as the needle hit my spine and a cool flush spread quickly down my legs, the pain receding with it.

“I love you,” Pierre said as he took a seat on the stool beside my head and wiped away the tears that stained my cheeks. “You’re doing well, mon ange. I love you so much.”

“I’m scared.”

He swallowed and chewed his lip as he watched how quickly the staff rushed to organise themselves. “Me too.”

A thin paper curtain was lifted between us and my world focused solely on Pierre as we desperately waited for the cries we needed to hear. Each minute seemed endless as I held Pierre’s hands and he pressed his forehead to mine, whispering prayers and encouragement until I felt the pressure in my abdomen release.

My eyes widened in panic as I remembered Adelaide announcing her arrival almost instantly but as the seconds of silence ticked by dread froze the air in my lungs. Suddenly it came, a soft sound that broke the stillness in the room and grew to a warbling cry and I could breathe again.

“A boy,” Yuki smiled and laughed with relief as he gripped Pierre’s shoulder.  

“Sydney, mon fils,” Pierre whispered in amazement as he kissed away the tears that had fallen and sat up as the nurse brought our son around. “You did it, my love.” 

The beautiful image before me blurred as tears of joy welled in my eyes at the sight of seeing Pierre hold his son for the first time. I had seen him stand on podiums and receive trophies, spraying champagne into the air, but the pride he radiated the moment he saw Sydney’s face could never compare. 

“He’s perfect.” Tears glistened on his skin as he stroked the tip of his finger over Sydney’s delicate cheek before bringing him closer so I could him too.

He already had tufts of pale brown hair on his head like Pierre did as a child and full pink lips that quivered with little cries. “Hi, sweet boy,” I cooed as Pierre helped him into my arms, avoiding the IV and monitoring cords that criss crossed over me. “He’s so little.”

I wished I could hold him longer and memorise every inch of his face but he was born weeks earlier than he was meant to and the nurse smiled sadly as she took him back. My own selfish want to hold him could wait until he had been checked over by the people trained to care for premature babies. 

“They are going to take him to the special care suite to keep an eye on him,” Yuki said after listening to the nurse’s instructions then looked at Pierre. “She said you can go with him.”

“I’ll be fine. Go,” I urged him when he looked between us. “You too, Yuki, we owe you.”

“Yeah?” he asked with a grin. “Do you have a middle name yet?”

“Not happening, Yuki-San, come one,” Pierre said with an amused shake of his head before stopping only to kiss me once more. “I’ll see you soon, je t’aime.”

“Love you too, both of you.”

“Careful, mon fille, we have to support his head,” Pierre instructed Addie as she sat on his lap and together they held her baby brother. “Good girl, and see that tube, we have to make sure it doesn’t get pulled.”

Dad had arrived with Addie not long after I had been moved into the same suite as Sydney and there was apparently an entire waiting room filled with our friends that had cut short their post-race celebrations to wait on news of us. The big cheer they gave when Pierre went out to tell them we had a small but healthy boy had made me smile as I cradled him to my chest whispering how loved he was. 

“What’s it for?” Addie asked as she kept her hands away from the tube that disappeared into Sydney’s nose.

“To help him grow big and strong because he was in such a rush to meet us.”

A knock sounded at the door before it quietly opened and Charles peeked into the room. “Pierre said you might want some sushi,” he said as he held up the bag stacked with containers of every combination.

I grinned at my husband, amazed that he had remembered his promise with everything else that had been going on around us and waved Charles into the room. “You’re an angel,” I said as he placed the food on the bedside table and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“He’s going to be a heartbreaker,” Charles gushed as he sat on the arm of the chair beside Pierre and gently shook Sydney’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mini Gasly. I’m Charles, and I’m going to be your favourite uncle.”

“But you’re my favourite uncle,” Addie said with a frown as she looked up at him slightly offended.

“I can be both of your favourites, don’t worry,” Charles reassured her with a smile. “Have you had a family photo yet?”

“No, I look terrible,” I answered before Pierre could. I had taken plenty of photos of him with Sydney and of Addie with them but I didn’t want to have my own taken until I could at least have a shower.

Pierre shook his head. “You look beautiful.”

“I have an idea,” Charles offered as he stood up and pulled his phone out. “Mum has a picture of when Arthur was born and it’s just our hands layered from biggest to smallest. You could try that?”

Sydney’s hand looked so small in Addie’s but the picture Charles took was a beautiful memory to keep. When we got home we planned to get an actual photographer to take some professional portraits but at the moment we didn’t know when we would be able to fly back to France. It wasn’t exactly a quick trip and Sydney didn’t even have a birth certificate let alone a passport to fly with, plus the neonatal paediatricians wanted to monitor him for at least a few days until he put on some weight. 

There were still so many unknown variables that meant we could’ve ended up staying in Suzuka for a while, and Pierre hadn’t even mentioned his plans for the race in Qatar. But those were all problems for tomorrow, because right now I had my family together and that meant everything to me.

Click here for the first half of the epilogue.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {29}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, smut, labour

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I woke to soft kisses on my shoulder and Pierre’s hand catching the foot that kicked wildly. Dawn had already broken and he should have been getting ready for race day but I was thankful to have him all to myself for a few minutes before I had to share him with the world.

“I was having a good dream,” I murmured as I snuggled back against his chest and the warmth his bare skin offered.

“Yeah? What made it good?” he asked between the kisses that inched their way up my neck.

He gently sucked the sweet spot below my ear and my breath left my lungs with a soft moan. “You.”

“What was I doing?” he whispered in my ear, his fingertips travelling slowly down my waist and over my hip leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I rolled over to face him and he pulled my leg over his hip, the thin material between us needing only a small adjustment to make my dream spill into the real world. Unfortunately one of us had to be responsible and it fell on me as I brushed his wild hair back from his face. “Things you're not allowed to do on race day.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat at the reminder and he pulled me closer, grinding his hard length over my soaked panties. “If I have to be horny all day, so can you.”

All thoughts of being responsible were erased when he rolled his hips again to tease me. It wasn’t really my fault with how erratic these hormones made me, one moment I could be crying because I couldn’t find a matching sock in the washing pile and the next I was climbing on Pierre’s lap with a burning need to be filled. 

“You vowed to satisfy me every day for the rest of our lives,” I said as I hooked my leg around him to stop him from rolling away to get out of bed.

“Cherish, love and obey,” he chuckled. “I’m not sure the priest would’ve let me say satisfy.”

“Then obey your wife, and make love to me,” I muttered against his lips before I captured them and felt his hand reach between us, pulling my panties aside.

“You are a terrible influence,” he smirked, his fingers dragging slowly through my folds and feeling just how wet I was for him.

“The worst,” I sighed softly as he prepared my body for him, but I was more than ready to take him. “Please, Pierre, I need you. You can take your time with me tomorrow.”

The sun was out, the Suzuka circuit was in its optimal condition and Pierre was having an amazing race. It couldn’t have been more exciting with big challenges going on with every lap as I sat on the wall beside Otmar, my headset connected to the team comms. 

“Go baby, go,” I whispered to the muted microphone as he hit the DRS zone fractions behind Fernando. Pierre swung out of the slipstream and with the drag reduction open he was flying past the Aston Martin. I leapt from the chair with a scream as he pulled into fourth position and turned into the speed trap corner perfectly while Otmar punched the air with a grin. 

“Great work, Pierre, keep that up, you’ve got your wife jumping out her seat,” Otmar praised before he turned to me but I was busy staring at my dress, or more importantly, the small puddle of water dripping at my feet. “Oh, shit.”

“What? What is it?” Pierre asked in a hurry.

“Don’t!” I hissed at my godfather when he opened his mouth. “There’s only 4 laps left. Please, don’t tell him.”

“Nothing, just spilled my drink in the excitement,” Otmar answered and I could see he wasn’t happy with the lie before he muted his microphone. “We need to get you off the wall now and to the hospital.”

“It’s too early…what do I do?” My voice broke as his arm hooked into mine and he looked down the pits to see if any teams were preparing a stop.

“Don’t think about that right now, you’ll be in good hands.” After he was satisfied it was clear, he walked me across the asphalt and caught the eyes of the paramedics who usually checked the crew if someone got injured.

“Get her in an ambulance now,” Otmar ordered them as he grabbed my bag from the pile of belongings on Pierre’s shelf. “I’ll call Damien so he can bring Addie and Pierre.”

A huge cheer filled the garage and I spun around to see the screens replaying another overtake. Pierre was in third place with two laps to go, just ahead of Charles, but he was still too far from the Red Bull cars to catch unless there was a flag. There was no way I could stop him now, not when he was going to find himself on a podium.

The tight sensations I had felt on and off since arriving at the paddock were no longer just uncomfortable but becoming painful. These were not harmless braxton hicks contractions anymore and more water was running down my legs with each one. That was when the panic set in.

“Talk me through what’s happening, Bri.” Amber said as she opened her medical kit and pulled out the blood pressure cuffs. Ever since my pregnancy was announced they had been kept up to date with my progress for this very situation and I had thought it was silly at the time, now I would have to thank Otmar for indulging Pierre’s request.

“My waters have broken and I’m guessing that the back ache I’ve had all day isn’t actually a back ache.” I hunched over as another wave of pain clenched the entire span of my stomach and a low groan escaped my gritted teeth. “Fuck, that hurts.”

“BP is a little high but that’s expected when in pain. Sounds like baby is definitely coming a little early so I’m going to call one of the standby ambulances to come and get us alright.”

My hands trembled as I held my stomach protectively and watched her make the call through her walkie talkie. “I’m only 34 weeks.”

“Japan has some of the best medical care in the world, they are equipped to handle this,” she assured me as she received a reply that the ambulance was coming down the pitlane.

Pierre’s POV

“Tires struggled on this lap,” I commented to my engineer as I checked my mirrors to see Charles’ red car falling further behind. “Hello?”

I had pushed the medium tires more than I should have but I had the pace to get ahead of Charles so I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity while it was in my grasp. Instead I would just have to be more conscious on the corners with the grip getting worse.

I rounded the last corner before hitting the home straight and spared a glance to the pit wall in case the comms had gone down and the team put a sign out. What I saw instead made my heart skip a beat.

“Why is there an ambulance? Hello? Can you hear me?” Each second of silence that passed left my palms sweaty and my attention torn between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The comms crackled to life in my ear and my engineer finally answered. “Just manage the tires the best you can for the final lap.”

“The ambulance,” I repeated as my eyes darted around the track searching for any flags being waved but the stewards held nothing. “Why is it in the pit lane?”

“Focus on the race, babe.” The relief my wife’s voice brought was fleeting as it didn’t hold the same warmth and the tone was clipped like when she was distracted, or in pain.

“Box, box, I’m coming in,” I rushed as I hit the button on my console to confirm I was returning to the pits at the end of the lap.

“You can’t finish in the pit!” Bri argued before she groaned in pain and my mind was set as I pushed the limits of the tires to get back to her even sooner.

“Try stop me,” I muttered.

Determination set in as clusters of marbles were thrown from my tires on every corner, blue flags waving as I passed Logan's car and then Oscar’s next. There was no elation when Karel let me know I set a new sector record or that I was closing in on Danny. There was nothing but the need to get to my family.

I could see the chequered flag waving, the finish line up ahead and the crowd on their feet. I hated to disappoint the fans, but my family would always come first. It was them who would still be standing by my side when I no longer raced, not the fans, of that I had no illusion.

I pulled into the pits, ignoring the speed limit, and found the teams had created a path that usually would have been swamped by the media. A path that led all the way to the ambulance waiting outside my garage.

The wheels locked with how hard I came to a stop and I barely registered cutting the power before I was tearing the console from the steering column and jumping to the asphalt.

I was no stranger to adrenaline but the fear that cut through me was unlike anything I had ever experienced when I saw Bri on the stretcher, her brows pinched in pain and her hands cradling her stomach. The thought of something bad happening to either of them caused a chill to creep into my body.

They had to be alright, or I would never be able to alright again.

“Give me your helmet and go,” Otmar ordered as stood at the door to the ambulance. 

“Adelaide?”

“Damien’s with her and they’ll find you at the hospital.” Otmar frowned and pressed the headset closer to his ear before looking down the pit to the entrance where Charles was pulling in. “What? All of them?”

I didn’t wait to find out what was happening as I climbed the steps into the ambulance and grabbed my wife’s hand. “Le bébé?” My throat seemed to close at the question and I tried to keep my mind busy as I waited for an answer but then I saw the skirt of those floral sundresses she loved so much. The bright material was dark with the liquid soaking it.

“I don’t know.” Tears welled in her eyes at the whispered admission and I took the seat beside her, pressing my lips to her forehead so she didn’t see the ones that filled mine too.

“It’s okay, shh, it’s alright, amore,” I murmured weakly as I looked at the team medic and prayed I wasn’t lying.

“BP is still rising but the baby's heartbeat is steady so they are stable for transport,” Amber said as she watched the readings on the monitor. “Shiroko Women’s are preparing a theatre for our arrival. They’re in good hands, Pierre.”

Her words gave me a glimmer of hope that I clung to. I needed that to be true for my own sanity.

Amber got up to close the back of the van after relaying the information to a translator who passed it onto the hospital and the air left my lungs as I saw the line of cars down the pit lane, the Williams and McLaren I had overtaken on the last lap just pulling in at the very back. 

“FIA can’t DNF 18 drivers,” Bri said as she saw the same thing and squeezed my hand tightly. “They’ll be forced to use the pit entry as the final positions. They’re making sure you get your podium.”

“I don’t need it,” I said as I leaned back in the seat to see the driver putting the van in gear. “I need you and our baby safe.”

A loud bang sounded on the back door just as we started to roll forward and I shouted to the driver to stop at the familiar voice calling out. 

“Let him in,” Bri begged Amber, though the space was already limited.

Amber opened the door quickly and Yuki stood panting from the full out sprint he had made along the pit lane to reach us. “I thought you might need a translator,” he said as he scratched his head and looked me dead in the eye. “Your japanese is fucking shit.”

The small chuff of laughter from Bri lightened the burden in my chest and I glanced at our entwined fingers resting on her stomach before looking back at my friend. “I could use all the help I can get.”

Click here for chapter thirty.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {27}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, wedding bells are ringing. F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Australia 2024

“Hey Christian,” I greeted nervously as I sat in the master bedroom of our hotel suite, hoping Pierre was too busy playing with Addie in her room to overhear the phone call. “I was wondering if you remember making me a certain promise some 15 years ago?”

The Red Bull principal chuckled. “That depends, I don’t have a spare seat.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” I rushed to clarify. “Pierre is very happy at Alpine. I was wondering if you could put me in touch with one of the Red Bull artistic pilots. I know I’m hoping for a miracle but it’s for a top secret mission on Saturday after the wedding.”

“Colour me intrigued. I’ll make some calls and see who’s available at such short notice.”

I thanked him before bidding farewell and sending out a prayer that Christian could help because I hadn’t been able to get this idea out of my head for two days. Knowing there was nothing else to be done until Christian called back, I focused on the paperwork in front of me. Mum had sent through the documents for Addie’s new birth certificate and I slipped it into the folder with our marriage certificate that the celebrant needed on the big day. 

It was like the stars had aligned and everything I thought I would never have was coming into fruition. Just thinking about how far I had come and how happy I was brought tears to my eyes and I swiped them away before they could fall on the important paperwork.

“Mon ange?” I looked up from the bed and found Pierre crossing the room, concern written on his face. “What’s wrong?”

I held my hand out reaching for him, the sapphire engagement ring glinting under the chandelier, and he quickly took it as he climbed onto the bed. 

“Nothing’s wrong,“ I promised with a sniffle. “I love you so much and you make me so happy.”

“Then why are you crying?” he asked softly, catching a stray tear with his thumb. 

“Because I’m happy.”

“I’m confused,” he admitted as wrapped me in his arms. “That’s twice this week I’ve found you in tears.”

“I know, baby. It’s just the closer we get to the wedding I find myself thinking about us and how much things have changed. You have made my life infinitely better, and Addie’s too.” Another wave of emotion washed over me and more tears spilled down my cheeks. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“Three days,” he said with a growing smile. “It seems so close yet so far.”

I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day as I stood at the edge of the rooftop garden and looked at the city sprawling below. The sun was beginning its descent and the thousands of twinkling fairy lights came to life as a pair of arms curled around my waist and Pierre’s trimmed beard tickled my neck and he kissed my racing pulse.

“What’s on your mind, Mrs Gasly?”

I smiled at the name and turned in his arms so I could kiss my husband and tasted the subtle notes of the champagne he had used as a toast during our speeches. 

“How perfect this moment is,” I answered as I draped my arms around his neck and we gently swayed to the music playing at the other end of the roof. “I needed a moment to make sure it was real.”

I could still feel the weight of the fountain pen in my hand, remember the strokes of the nib across the papers and the sight of my signature next to his. Husband and wife, mother and father. They were the two most important documents I had ever signed and I had trouble pushing away the memory of the marriage and birth certificate because they had made me unbelievably happy.

“There they are,” Pierre said with a chuckle as he wiped away the tears that snaked down my cheek. “I wondered when they would show.”

A small laugh bubbled up and it had been surprising that I had been able to make it through our vows without crying. I had been blinking furiously, not willing to have anything blur the memory of Pierre standing in front of me, his steady hand holding my trembling one as he slipped the wedding band onto my finger.

“Thank you,” I mouthed as my voice failed me. 

“You can thank me with another dance, darling wife,” he said when he was satisfied no more stray tears were going to escape and he offered his elbow. “I am never going to get tired of calling you my wife.”

I looped my arm in his and we turned our backs to the city lights. “And I am never going to get tired of hearing it, dear husband.”

“Adelaide Mirabella Gasly, no running.”

“You’re not meant to smile when you growl her,” Granny chided softly as she zipped your departing dress up, her head tilting slightly as it caught slightly at the small of your back before gliding up.

“I can’t help it,” I huffed, still unable to stop smiling at her new surname. “I didn’t know it was possible to feel this happy. It’s like I need to scream it to the world or I’m going to explode.”

“Remember this feeling, sweetie,” Granny said as she patted my cheek. “Marriage isn’t easy and it won’t always be happy chappy. Remember this feeling, so you know what you are fighting for when it gets hard.”

I took her hands in mine, giving them a small squeeze. “Not exactly the advice I thought I would get on my wedding day.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Take it from someone who has been married four times, it may not give you butterflies but it is practical.”

“I think the fact you have been married four times means I shouldn’t take your advice, Granny.”

She pinched my cheek at the comment before stepping away with a laugh. “You’re 100% right, I’m older but certainly not wiser. Now go enjoy your honeymoon - may it be your one and only.”

I wrapped Addie in my arms after finally catching her running through the living room with Pierre hot on her tail, her wedding cake sugar high well and truly setting in. “I love you, baby girl. We will see you in two sleeps, okay?”

“I want to come,” she grumbled for the millionth time as I put her back on the ground, her bottom lip quivering.

“We will go on a family trip after the race,” Pierre promised as he knelt down at her height. “Anywhere you want, just the three of us.”

He held out his pinky and she wrapped hers around it. “Where’s Sydney?”

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest as I looked at Pierre. “Where did you hear that?”

“It was on the tv,” she said with a shrug. “There was a zoo.”

“Oh, it’s a city a few hours away from here. Do you want to go there?”

She nodded happily and Pierre promised to take her to the zoo, so long as she promised to behave for her grandparents who would be looking after her while we went away for a short honeymoon.

Everyone was still on the rooftop bar, dancing and singing to the music Danny Ricciardo was playing after talking the DJ into letting him have a go. They would likely keep partying for hours yet but me and Pierre would continue with our own celebration at a luxury villa on a private beach out of the city. I could already hear the helicopter coming in to land on the helipad across from the reception area.

A cheer rose from the crowd as they formed two lines and tossed handfuls of rose petals and rice over us, the grains slipping down my cleavage for Pierre to find later. We had already thanked our friends and family before leaving to get changed but I still stopped to squeeze my mum's hand and then dads as we made our way along. 

The helicopter whipped Pierre’s hair around but mine was pinned down tight and my giggle was lost to the wind as he unsuccessfully tried to hold it down before helping me step up into it. We surged into the air and the pilot tilted the chopper so we could see our guests waving goodbye before we disappeared into the night, our first night as husband and wife.

“Ready, Mrs Gasly?” Pierre asked over the headset as he took my hand, his thumb running along the wedding band he had placed on my finger.

“Siempre, Mr Gasly.”

Media Day in Melbourne

We hadn’t even taken five steps into the paddock after scanning our passes when our presence was announced.

“Paaaapi Chuuuulllooooo!” Daniel shouted across the paddock, drawing the attention of the reporters who he had been chatting to about racing on his home track again. “And Mrs Papi Chulo.”

“No, Danny, hard no,” I said with a cringe. “Keep the perverted names to Peirre only, please.”

He pouted playfully before going back to his interview and I left Pierre to sign a few hats, taking Addie’s hand and making our way to Alpine’s hospitality. All along the way friends and strangers alike gave us their well wishes for a long and happy marriage as they admired the pair of rings on my finger.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for Pierre to catch up since he had a busy day with interviews booked between the two free practice times. He reached me with the assistance of a quick jog just as Addie spotted Otmar and had darted off after him and a big smirk was plastered on his face.

“So, no Mrs Papi Chulo,” he confirmed with a laugh when I slapped his ribs lightly. “I was just checking.”

“That’s a no from me,” I confirmed with a droll stare that turned to a smirk as I bit my lip. I stepped closer and rose to my tiptoes so I could whisper in his ear since there were always microphones nearby in the paddock. “But you can call me mamacita.”

Pierre caught my hips and stopped me from the quick retreat I had been planning. “Uh-uh, where do you think you’re going, mamacita?”

I smirked as I recognised the look in his eyes and pressed your body flush to his. “To get you an ice bath, dear husband. It feels like you might need one.”

“Dieu me donne la force,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers slipping as I stepped away.

“You are going to be late, Mr Gasly,” I said as I pointed to the countdown for the first free practice. “And you still need to get dressed out of those tight clothes.”

He bit his lip and I knew it was to hold back a witty remark but I was right, he was late and as soon as free practice was over then it was straight into the media frenzy. “I’ll get you back for this, Mrs Gasly,” he warned with a smirk before taking off into a jog again.

“I look forward to it!”

The crowd for Pierre’s media time slot was busier than usual, with dozens of signs of support waving about for him - or at least the nickname Danny had popularised. Still, I loved seeing them all there cheering for my husband as I waited on the stage with today’s reporter, Lydia. As usual, Pierre was running a little late and skidded to a stop on the stage at seeing me on the red lounge suite set up.

“Here he is!” Lydia gushed, earning a cheer and round of applause. “Come, come, take a seat and get comfortable. Today is special because we have a fun little game that your wife has put together.” Pierre looked giddy when Lydia said ‘wife’ and he looked my way as I bounced my knees nervously. “Have you seen your wedding photos yet?”

Pierre grinned as he picked up his microphone. “Yes, we received a few teasers this week and, wow, they are amazing.”

“I have a few here today, but I’m told these ones you haven’t seen yet.” A quiet ‘ohhh’ rose from the crowd. “Your task is to figure out just how many Gasly’s are in each photo.”

Pierre’s brows pinched in confusion as the first photo was shown and he looked over the rim of his sunglasses at the image. 

The Palais Theatre had made a beautiful backdrop for some black and white images and in the picture Pierre had curled his arm around my waist, cradling me back into an elegant dip. Little did he know that out in the sea of seats his brothers had been hidden and they stepped out into the aisle to mimic the move with Phillipe dipping Paul. They were both grinning like fools and it was a miracle that they had kept quiet before hiding once again.

A burst of laughter erupted from Pierre as he looked into the crowd and spotted his brothers with the rest of our families. “I’m actually lost for words,” he admitted as he shook his head. “I don’t think they even dipped their wives at their weddings.”

“So how many Gasly’s are there in the photo?” Lydia prompted and he scanned it again to see if anyone else was hiding.

“Four,” he answered confidently before the next photo appeared.

This time it was one from under the starting lights on the grid. After we had taken a few pictures with just the two of us, Addie had joined us and she sat on Pierre’s shoulders while reaching for the five red lights above. It was then that Pascale and Jean-Jacques had stood up from where they were hiding on the bridge that spanned the grid width, both copying Addie’s excited pose.

“Five,” he said with a chuckle after scanning the picture twice to make sure there weren't any more hidden and turning to me. “How did you manage this?” 

“With difficulty,” I admitted, getting more anxious by the second. 

“Halfway there,” Lydia cheered and the second to last photo appeared.

 It was down on the lakefront of Albert Park and we were facing each other, smiling brightly as the sun shimmered on the water's surface. While we were so focused on each other, a few faces had peered out from where they were hidden behind the trees in the park and two bystanders sitting on a park bench reading the local newspaper folded them up.

Another burst of laughter erupted from Pierre as he pointed out his mother and father as well as Adelaide and two of her cousins in the trees, then his brothers on the park bench. “Nine.”

The photo changed and my stomach did a little flip as his brows pinched together again. At first glance it looked the same as the last photo, all the extra Gasly’s still in the park. But something had changed.

The photographer had done so well to distract Pierre long enough for the surprise to be completed and Pierre had complained at how long the ‘perfect’ photo had taken. Now he saw the final image and he wasn’t the only one to be surprised.

“What the?” he exhaled as he saw the writing in the sky and pulled his sunglasses down to get a closer look. 

Christian had pulled through and his friends at Red Bull Air Racing had been happy to help make my idea come to life without even knowing the meaning behind it. To anyone else the word neatly scrawled across the blue Mebourne sky would probably cause confusion but to Pierre it meant everything. 

Sydney

I had been biting my lip as he stared at the word, the crowd silent as they waited for an explanation. “Now how many Gasly’s are in the photo?”

“Ten,” he rasped, his throat thick with emotion as he licked his lips and reached over to me, his hand coming to rest low on my stomach. “Tu es enceinte?”

“Yeah,” I whispered as I placed my hand over his. “We’re having a baby.”

Click here for chapter twenty eight.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {20}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC

Warnings: 18+ only, smut - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

“Just in here,” I said as I pointed Pierre to the driveway that led to mum and dad’s estate and turned the music down. “Thank god, I don’t think I could have listened to any more Disney songs. You do know you can say no to her, right?”

Pierre smirked into the rearview mirror as he looked at Addie nodding along to How Far I’ll Go from Moana. “I know, but why would I?”

“She has you so wrapped around her little finger.”

He parked my car in front of the house and before he even turned off the engine my mum was rushing out with a big grin on her face. “My babies,” she gasped as she threw the back door open and saw Addie reaching out for her. “Look how you have grown, chiquita. I missed you so much.”

We spent the afternoon enjoying the warm weather in the pool and it was nice to have a moment alone with Pierre while Addie splashed with mum and dad in the shallows. Mum had given us an update on what Trent had wanted for the settlement and he had been quieter than usual after hearing the conditions.

“You’re far too pretty to pout so much,” I teased as I climbed on his back and wrapped my legs around him, the warm water gently lapping around us. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He pulled me around his body and so I was facing him before taking a seat in front of one of the jets. “An exposé?”

“You saw the questions, there’s nothing really substantial to them.” I shrugged and picked up the gold cross that rested against his chest so my hands were busy. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of an interview either but if it meant my freedom to travel with Pierre then I would do it. “I would have rather it been done sooner so I could go to Paris with you but having it primetime on a Sunday night is another strategy of his I’m sure.”

“If I didn’t have to go you know I’d be there with you.” Pierre sighed but there was no escaping the testing that he needed to do with his car before they left for Canada. It was being rebuilt from the chassis up after the crash but once it was ready he would need to run it in so the fine tuning and adjustments could be made. “The brakes had better be fixed this time.”

“I’ll be having a word with them if they aren’t. If not, I apparently have a good right hook.”

Pierre tipped his head back with a laugh. “You can’t joke about that, at least not today.”

“It only cost me $250k and an hour long interview.” I wrinkled my nose up. “I have to joke about it or I’ll probably cry.”

“No, no crying, unless they are happy tears. Anything else breaks my heart.”

“I can’t promise that when you’re going away,” I admitted as I curled into him and tucked my head in the crook of his neck. “It’s going to be strange sleeping without you, and lonely, and cold. You’re like the perfect hot water bottle.”

He brushed a kiss over my forehead before resting his cheek on my head. “Four nights, mon amour, four long nights and then we will be together in Montreal and you can put your cold feet on me again. And, we have tonight.”

“In my parents house,” I groaned under my breath. “Bloody cock blocks.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if your dad made us sleep in different rooms,” Pierre joked.

I chuckled at the thought. “Then slept in the hallway with his shotgun.”

“Wait, he has a shotgun?”

I burst out laughing at the look on his face and found the loud noise had drawn my parents' attention. “Dad, I think Pierre wants to go clay shooting with you.”

“Oh no, sir, it’s alright. I’m more into golf than, uh, shooting,” he said nervously.

“Golf, huh, what’s your handicap?”

“16.”

Dad grinned and I knew what he was thinking. “Bri’s 16, I’m 11. We’ll have to have a round next time you’re here.”

“That could get messy, you get a bit competitive.” Pierre and dad both looked at me a little offended but I had been mostly talking to dad. After thinking about it, both men were very competitive by nature and I could see them trying to outdo the other. “Yeah, it’s probably a good thing you aren’t going shooting.”

Dad smirked at the comment. “Probably. Though I know a great lawyer if there is an accident.”

“Dad,” I gasped as splashed water his way, making him splutter and choke as he struggled to stop laughing.

“It was a joke, darling,” he said when he finally recovered enough to talk. “I wouldn’t have invited him over if I didn’t like him.”

“Technically that was mum.”

“Because she’s better at organising things than me, but I thought about it.” Dad looked at Pierre. “Trust me, son, the best lesson I can teach you on how to live a long happy life with a woman is this - just smile and let her do what she wants.”

“It does work wonders,” mum concurred as she swam up to dad with Addie on her back. “30 years of marriage and counting.”

“That sounds too simple,” Pierre commented but I was still staring at dad, wondering if I had ever heard him call a boyfriend of mine ‘son’ before.

Dad laughed and tapped the side of his head. “You still have to master mind reading to know what she actually wants and not what she says. Don’t fall for those traps.”

“On that note,” I announced as I swam towards the stairs. “I’m going to get dressed and start on dinner because despite my father’s sage advice - food is actually the key to keeping me happy.”

Pierre quickly caught up to me with a streamlined freestyle that flexed his biceps with each stroke and offered to help. Addie wasn’t ready to get out and pouted to her grandparents until they were manipulated into staying in the pool longer. It worked out rather well as I closed my bedroom door and tugged at the bows that held my bikini together.

“They are going to be there for a while.” I smirked as the material fell away and Pierre’s tongue rolled over his lips at the sight. “Don’t make me wait until Montreal.”

He turned and locked the door before kicking his swimming trunks off and picking me up. My legs locked around him like they had in the pool but now there was nothing between us and I moaned as his hard length teased my entrance.

“Make me yours, Pierre,” I begged as he laid me on the bed, his wet hair dripping across my skin as he kissed his way down my body. “Mark me.”

He grazed his teeth over the sensitive spot along my inner thigh and I shuddered beneath him when he sealed his lips over the skin and sucked. His tongue lapped at the mark he had left and my core clenched in response to the primal growl he made when he pulled back and saw the large purple circle that remained.

“Fuck, you are so sexy,” he praised as he admired the mark a moment longer. Needing me as much as I needed him, he curled two fingers into my aching cunt and sighed happily when he felt how wet and ready I was for him. “On your knees, ma chérie.”

I obeyed without hesitation and wrapped my hand around his cock so I could feel every inch of him as he slowly filled me. I wasn’t going to be able to silence the sounds that were building and I reached blindly for my pillow before burying my face in it.

“You feel fucking amazing,” Pierre whispered as he pulled me away from the pillow so my back was pressed to his chest and his hand snaked around my body to teased my clit in time to each thrust.

“Don’t stop, Pierre, please, don’t stop,” I whimpered as I bit my lip trying to keep quiet. My hands gripped his forearms, my nails marking his skin as my entire body tensed before my orgasm crashed over me in undulating waves that left stars dancing across my vision.

“We’re not finished yet, mon trésor,” Pierre chuckled in my ear before kissing my racing pulse and guiding me back onto my hands. “You might want to bite that pillow again.”

–

When we emerged freshly showered and satisfied, the others were still in the pool so we went to the kitchen and I grabbed a bag of masa harina to make fresh tortillas. Pierre set up a top 40 playlist on Spotify knowing I liked to listen to music while I cooked and then took charge of chopping up the vegetables I tossed his way.

“Nice reflexes, Gasly,” I praised when he caught everything, even the odd shaped apple cucumber that was covered in little prickles.

“Is this thing edible?” he asked as he wiped his hand free of the prickles.

“I’m too invested in your life to try to poison you, babe.”

He put the knife down and leaned closer to whisper, “can you tell that to Damien before he tries to shoot me?”

I opened my mouth to apologise and explain my dads sick sense of humour when I saw his lips twitch with a suppressed smile before he laughed.

“He needs to act his age, honestly. During the off-season he and Otmar get into so much trouble together. You don’t have to worry about him anyhow, his aim is terrible because he refused to wear the glasses he was prescribed.”

“That makes me feel much better.”

“And he likes you too much, he even called you son.”

“I wasn’t sure if I misheard that. His accent is very strong sometimes.”

I cocked an eyebrow up and waved a floury finger at him as I couldn’t help but tease him. “Look who’s talking.”

“Ah, but you love my accent.”

“I do,” I sighed longingly. “I could listen to you talking all day. Unless it’s with Charles, that just gives me a headache.”

Pierre laughed as he reached for his phone. “Should I call him again?”

“No, please,” I whined. “I speak French, he speaks French. I speak Italian, he speaks Italian. But for some reason I can never understand him, I don’t understand how you do either. It’s like a mashup of both languages and then some English thrown in for good measure too.”

He put his phone down again and turned to me with a smile. “That’s because you learned the language in schoolbooks. It’s far more formal and structured compared to street talk but you’ll pick it up when you’re living in Paris and hearing it everyday.”

The dough was kneaded and ready as I pushed the bowl away and wiped the flour off my hands. “About that…” I shifted on my feet as I looked out the kitchen window to the huge herb garden mum tended to. “I realised I’m being pretty hypocritical. I’m happy to pay Trent off because I don’t want to be apart from you. But then I’m supposed to start work and go from being with you almost 24/7 to just on weekends?”

“We promised we would make it work,” Pierre said nervously as he wondered where I was heading with this conversation.

“And we will,” I assured him as I took his hand. “What I’m saying is that I don’t want to be apart from you when I don’t have to be, especially after seeing that crash. It was a real wake up call that our time isn’t guaranteed.”

Pierre pulled me into his arms and I fisted the back of his shirt like if I could hold on tight then enough this moment would never end.

“Financially, I don’t need the job, I have a trust fund that I’ve never touched but that was mostly from pride and wanting to be independent. The job I had lined up was really only to get some hands-on experience but my long term goal has always been to design and build F1 cars.”

Pierre searched my eyes for a hint of a lie and his lips parted with a deep breath of relief when he realised what I was saying. “You’re not taking the job.”

“No, I can’t even stomach being away from you tomorrow night,” I admitted. “Silly season is coming up and it’s not just you drivers who change seats. I’ll keep an eye out for any jobs around the paddock that use my degree and work my way up that way. As long as I get to climb into bed with you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”

The ground disappeared as Pierre swept me up and spun me around with a grin. “I didn’t know how I was going to cope without seeing you and Addie everyday.”

I knew the suffering of missing Pierre would have been just as hard on Addie since she had come to love him too. She was thriving more than ever with having such a kind and supportive male role model, it would have been cruel to suddenly half that quality time they spend together.

“I hope we never have to find out.”

Click here for chapter twenty one.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {11}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral (both receiving) - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || under construction

My body was on fire with need when Pierre laid me down on his bed, leaving me there for a moment to kick his jeans off into the corner of the room and close the door. He moved tantalisingly slowly as he stalked his way back and I sat up, rising onto my knees to meet him in the middle of the bed. 

His eyes trailed over my body and I had never felt more beautiful and seen, until he reached my thighs where my shorts had bunched up. 

The flames were smothered with a metaphorical bucket of cold water and I pulled the material back into place as I looked away from him.

“Hey,” Pierre said softly as he climbed the bed and knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his and drawing them away from my shorts. “You don’t need to hide anything from me, mon ange.”

I still couldn’t look him in the eyes, “They’re hideous.”

“No, they are a part of you and every part of you is beautiful. Let me see all of you.” His fingers brushed the hem of my camisole and I swallowed as I closed my eyes and nodded.

The air kissed my skin as he pulled my singlet over my head and I heard the sharp intake of his breath. “Beautiful,” he whispered with wonder and my eyes fluttered open to see the sincerity on his face. 

His arms cradled me as we fell back against the sheets, words of affirmation tumbling from his lips between the kisses he left across my body. Wherever he touched goosebumps and heat followed but when his tongue lashed across my nipple I saw stars and a needy whine filled the air. 

The sound spurred him on and sealed his mouth over my breast, sucking and teasing one before moving to the other. I was squirming beneath him with an ache in my core and I thought I would combust if he didn’t touch me there. 

“Please, Pierre,” I mewled as I locked my legs around his waist and rolled my hips trying to ease the need with the friction his body could offer. 

“Patience, ma cherie.” 

A throaty groan of impatience escaped me and he chuckled as he unhooked my legs and kissed a line down from the valley of my breast to my navel. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my shorts and he paused as he looked up at me from beneath his lashes, giving me time to change my mind but I was ready to go all in and placed my hands over his pushing the material down with him as I laid myself bare.

Shock, horror and anger flitted across his face as he saw up close the damage I had been subjected to. I could hardly breathe as his trembling fingers reached out and traced the scars ever so softly, like he was afraid his touch would hurt me. 

“You don’t have to be gentle,” I whispered, the light touch almost ticklish. 

His eyes held a depth of emotion that made me pause and he held that contact with me as he softly kissed the ruined skin. “You deserve gentle.”

I fell back amongst the pillows when his kiss turned hungry once again and I spread my legs to give him the access we both desired. 

The heat of his breath was almost enough to make me come but then his tongue ran through my folds and found my clit and I swore as my back arched off the bed. My heart threatened to beat out of my chest and all I could hear was the pulsing of the blood rushing around my head. 

“Oh god, Pierre,” I moaned, lacing my fingers in his hair as he brought me to the edge of bliss.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling so good, not even the toys I had bought could elicit a response like this and I felt like I was floating away from my body. 

My body shuddered beneath his ministrations and when he curled two fingers into me, I was lost. My mind was free for the first time in years, completely empty of all thoughts except for the man in front of me who was licking my release from his fingers.

My legs barely worked but I was determined to have a taste of my own and Pierre let me push him back into the pillows. “My turn.”

He looked delicious as he laid across the cream-coloured bedspread, the colour deepening his golden tan from hours spent outdoors. I couldn’t even coax myself to believe it was some trick of my mind or a dream because my imagination could never have created this perfect image before me. 

I took my time as he had, exploring the planes and dips of his muscles with my hands, feeling the soft curls of hair below his navel. I followed the line down to where they disappeared into the waistband of his Calvin Kleins and my breath caught at the sight of his erection straining against the material. 

He lifted his hips for me so I could free him and the last piece of clothing between us was thrown haphazardly to the floor with the rest. I nearly bit through my lip as his cock sprung free and I found it as mouth watering as the rest of him. 

God he was so hard, but the silken skin sliding smoothly in my palm felt so soft, my brain almost couldn’t comprehend everything I was feeling especially when he moaned deeply and urged me to stroke him more. 

My hand worked him slowly, teasing his pleasure until a bead of precum pooled at the tip and I dipped my head down to lap it up with my tongue. He tasted salty and sweet, with a hint of musk and shower gel too, and I hummed my approval before I wrapped my lips around him and took him in my mouth. 

Pierre’s hand bunched into my hair pulling the dark tresses away from my face and I rolled my eyes up to watch him watch me. Satisfaction was written on his face with glazed eyes and his lips parted with a moan as his hand tightened in my hair. His breathing quickened when I hollowed my cheeks and my nails dug into his thighs as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

The hand in my hair tugged against me, stopping my rhythm, and I swirled my tongue around his head, pressing it along the slit at the tip, before pulling away with a pout.

“Mon dieu,” he choked, teetering on the edge of his orgasm, “je veux te baiser.” (French: My god, I want to fuck you.) 

I wiped a hand across my swollen lips that were slick with my saliva. “Je veux te faire jouir.” (French: I want to make you cum.) 

“Then come here,” he growled as he sat up and pulled me across his lap. “Are you on birth control?”

I nodded and planted my hand on his chest as I felt him press at my entrance. “Are you clean?”

“Of course, it’s part of the medicals for the races.” I had known that piece of information but it had slipped my mind until he reminded me. “I can go buy condoms if you want?”

The thought of hitting pause at this moment was more than distasteful for me and I shook my head as I ran my hands down his chest and shifted my hips. We both moaned in sync as I impaled myself on his length, the fullness taking my breath away in the best way possible. 

“I need a moment,” I admitted when I bottomed out and I balanced on a delicate knife edge between pleasure and pain at the stretch of my body around him. 

His teeth bit his bottom lip and his fingers gripped my hips like he was struggling to control himself. “You’re so fucking tight.”

I slowly eased up and down as I adjusted to his size before moving faster, rolling my hips with his hands to guide me. 

Pierre sat up and we moved together, chest to chest, lips to lips. He was everywhere, surrounding me with his embrace. He was the very air I drew deep into my body, and I was greedy for more as I locked my legs around his waist and let him roll over to cage me beneath him completely. 

The switch in positions changed the angle and his cock dragged over that perfect spot inside me and had me begging for more with every thrust. Liquid fire spread through my belly then across my skin and my head fell back with a cry of ecstasy. 

“Please, don’t stop,” I pleaded as the heat spread and my toes curled before lightning struck. Every nerve ending exploded and stars danced around my vision as I came with his name on my lips. 

“Fuck,” Pierre moaned in my ear as he buried his face in my neck and shuddered as my quivering walls milked his own release that he had been holding back. “I can’t believe how good you feel.”

“Me too.” My voice was a little weak as our hearts crashed against our chests and we slowly regained our breath in each other’s arms. 

“Do you think you can get away with sleeping in here?” 

I thought about it for a moment, weighing the odds up before deciding Addie would probably sleep through the night and not even notice I wasn’t in bed with her. “I’m sure I’ll hear her if she does wake up. We might just need to open the door in case she tries to find me.”

Pierre kissed me with a smile before collapsing onto the bed beside me and lacing our fingers together, holding them over his chest, and I hooked my leg over his. We lay there in a comfortable silence while my limbs remembered how to work and we shared our body heat so we didn’t have to separate and get under the blankets. 

I reluctantly pulled away with a sigh as I felt his seed leaking from me and knew I needed to clean up before we could hop into bed. 

“Where are you going?” he asked with a pout as I left the warmth of his arms.

“To shower,” I replied as I made my way to his ensuite, stopping at the doorway to look back at him and wink, “you coming?”

Click here for chapter twelve.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {26}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

The last two hours were almost more nerve wracking than all of Pierre’s races combined and my knee bounced in the uncomfortable chair. The sterile surgical waiting room set me on edge, the smell of disinfectant reminding me of my own time spent on the ward. My cuticles hated me as I picked at them and I turned my phone upside down so I didn’t see it constantly lighting up with the text messages coming in asking for an update.

“Miss Vowles?” the administrator asked, disturbing the silence. “Mr Gasly is being moved to recovery, if you’ll follow me you can wait for him there.”

I rushed after her and her bright pink crocs with paw patrol pins that squeaked with every step on the vinyl floor. Addie would have loved the shoes and wanted her own pair so I was glad she was staying with Pascale. She had begged and pleaded to come, throwing herself to the ground with a mega tantrum that was rare for her, but she would have been bored waiting around the hospital and then probably been more upset seeing Pierre waking up from the operation.

The doors to the recovery room opened and my breath rushed out in relief as I saw Pierre on the gurney that was being rolled towards me. He was barely away, bleary eyes blinking slowly open and shut above his swollen cheeks as the orderly locked the wheels and left.

“Hey baby,” I murmured softly as I ran my fingers through his hair.

Green irises peeked out of his heavy eyelids and he looked around before they landed on me. “Where’s Sydney?” he slurred.

The nurse had warned me that he might be a little confused as the anaesthetic wore off but it was still a surprise. “Adelaide’s waiting at home with your mum.”

He tried to shake his head but ended up groaning in pain. “I know that, where’s our son?”

My heart skipped a beat and I didn’t know what to say since he obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. “That’s the drugs in your system, love. We don’t have a son.”

His brows pinched and his fingers reached for mine so I took his hand, careful to avoid the IV that was still there. He traced the engagement ring he had given me only a few days ago and the glazed look in his eyes started to clear. “We should,” he murmured. “Doesn’t have to be a son, another daughter would be amazing too.”

“I should be recording this so you can have a laugh when you sober up later,” I teased and kissed his forehead. “Would you really name your son Sydney?”

“Or Darwin, maybe Bathurst. Uh, Toowoomba?”

“That sounds like a knock-off robot-vacuum,” I said through the laughs that I tried to keep quiet so the nurses didn’t growl at us. “You will never be allowed to name any of our children.” 

“You said ‘children’, plural, I like the sound of that.” He shifted on the bed and patted the space he made so I could climb into his arms. I had to force myself not to stroke his face, such a habitual act that was difficult to break but I didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was. 

For months he had been avoiding this surgery so he could finish the season without  having to miss a race. The teething gel had worked enough that he made it to the end and Alpine had finished fourth in the Constructors Championship, something everyone had been absolutely thrilled about. Otmar was already talking about being on the podium for next season - now that he had the big cash injection from Granny to fund better technology on par with Red Bull, Astin Martin and Mercedes. 

Now that Peirre had all his wisdom teeth removed he would be able to concentrate on that dream even more.

I giggled quietly as Pierre drifted back off to sleep and a small line of dribble ran down his numb lips. I was careful to avoid his swollen jaw as I wiped it away for him, but not before I took a selfie with him first. He had more than enough embarrassing photos of me on his phone, it was about time I had one of my own. 

His power nap didn’t last long as a nurse came around to check on him and he woke up with a confused look on his face when he saw we weren’t in our bed at home. “Ow,” he grumbled as he buried his head in my neck and away from the bright lights. “Did you use your right hook on me?”

The information booklet that the surgeons had given him after his consultation before we left for Abu Dhabi had warned him that he would have tenderness for a couple of weeks and couldn’t do any vigorous exercise until the stitches were gone. That was the biggest reason he hadn’t had the troublesome teeth removed mid-season.

“No, I save my punches for assholes that deserve it,” I murmured as I stroked his back soothingly. 

“That’s my girl.”

“Do you want a drink? The nurse said when you pee then we can go home.”

He nodded more out of wanting to go home not because he was thirsty and I winced at the pained sound he made when trying to swallow. I took the cup away and used another napkin to dab the drops that clung to his lip as he tried to get comfortable again.

“I hate seeing you in pain,” I whispered, knowing the next week was going to be the hardest. 

“Then let me distract you,” he whispered back.

“Pierre,” I warned as his hand disappeared under the thin sheet. “Behave yourself.”

“I can never behave with you around.”

The telltale squeaks of the nurse's shoes approached and I pulled his hand back over my waist just as the curtain was pulled open. She didn’t look too impressed at both of us being in the bed still but it was a private hospital and we were paying more than enough to be granted the small comfort.

“How are you feeling, Mr Gasly?”

“Been better, but ready to get out of here.”

She nodded and pointed to the other side of the room. “Bathrooms are through that door. I’ll prepare your discharge papers.”

Not wanting to stay a minute longer, he grabbed the cup of water and chugged it down despite the ache each swallow made. “Ah, that tastes disgusting.”

I hopped off the bed so he could get up and he looked down at the hospital gown with distaste making me laugh. “You make it look good, I promise.”

His feet were unsteady as they touched the cold floor and I wrapped my arm around his waist when he started to sway. “Why is there a breeze at the back?”

I looked behind him and had to stifle a giggle as I closed the back of the gown that had come open to show off his ass. “Maybe they got your surgery mixed up and gave you a colonoscopy as well.”

“No, no. No more hanging out with my brothers,” he said as he shuffled along. “Phillipe said the same thing, that I would wake up with bottom surgery.”

“Oh, babe,” I burst out laughing, “that’s not what you think it is.”

His brows furrowed together. “Wait, what?”

“I’ll tell you later.” I opened the bathroom door and he froze as we crossed the threshold.

“You can wait outside,” he said quietly as he tried to step away but his legs were like jelly.

“Pierre, we are getting married, I held your head over a sick bowl when you had that tummy bug and I have brought you toilet paper when the roll ran out more times than I can count. I think I can handle seeing you pee.” I closed the door behind us as his face turned red. “Don’t be embarrassed. You are always taking care of me, it’s about time you let me take care of you.”

“Fine, but don’t look,” he ceded as you helped him stand up straight and turned your head away.

“Don’t worry about me, just focus so we can get out of here before Nurse Ratched comes back.”

Pierre managed a smile when we got home and Addie came running out of the house like she hadn’t just seen him that morning. 

“Careful, sweetie,” I warned as he picked her up and her arms automatically wrapped around his neck before she tried to kiss his cheek. “Daddy’s face is sore and he needs to rest.”

“I can share Mr Snuggly,” she offered before climbing down and taking his hand to lead him to the living room. She didn’t even let me touch her favourite teddy that she had snuggled with since she was a newborn. “He’ll make the ouchies go away.”

While they went and got comfortable on the couch for a very lazy week planned ahead, I grabbed the bag of pain medication the doctor had prescribed and caught Pascale up on how it all went.

“Can you believe he kept his teeth they pulled out?” I asked with a cringe that she mirrored, shaking her head at her son.

“As long as he doesn’t show me them, or hide them around the house like he did when he was a boy, then he can do as he pleases.” She closed the car for me and laughed at the incredulous look I gave her. “I love my sons but boys keep you on your toes. How is the wedding planning going? Pierre said you were looking at a spring wedding.”

“Winter just wouldn’t work unless I want to hobble down the aisle, and Pierre is too impatient to wait until summer.” I smiled at the thought of the many ideas we had talked about in the last week. If he had his way we would already be hitched but I wanted to wait until mum had time to process the adoption papers and we could both become Gasly’s at the same time. “We are actually looking at having it in Australia since there is a free weekend between the Jeddah and Melbourne race. But nothing is set in stone yet, we really should get a wedding planner to sort it all out.”

“Ask the girls in the group chat, I’m sure they have someone to recommend.”

It was no secret that the drivers had a WhatsApp chat group but few people knew about the one for the WAGs. “How do you know about that?”

Pascale laughed and waved her hand. “Back in my day we used the party line then email came along.”

“What's the party line?”

“Oh, don’t make me feel any older than I already feel. Just ask the girls.”

“Considering Kevin and Sergio are the only ones married I’m not sure how much help they will be.”

“Doesn’t stop them from dreaming, darling. I should get going but call me if you need anything and Pierre’s favourite soup is in the fridge.” I followed her inside and she grabbed her handbag off the side table in the living room before kissing Pierre on the head as she passed the back of the couch then rubbed Addie’s back where she was curled up into his side. “Bye, my sweet, I love you.”

“Love you too, grand-mére,” she replied, barely tearing her eyes away from the movie they had chosen.

“Bye, ma,” Pierre said with a sleepy wave before he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. 

I walked Pascale out to the security gate and kissed her cheek, offering once again to drive her home but the afternoon was serene and the walk home wasn’t far. Pierre was still awake, just, when I got back inside and I massaged his shoulders as I stood behind him. “Stay awake for a minute, you’re due some medication.”

I grabbed the bag of supplies from the pharmacy and tipped them onto the coffee table so I could see what was what. One box was an anti-inflammatory, another was a pain killer, there was a large bottle of mouth rinse and the last box was the refill for my birth control. Pierre leaned forward to check the labels since he could be randomly tested for drugs through the off season and didn’t want to take anything that could show up.

His fingers grabbed the smallest box and turned it over to see my name on it. He stared at it for a minute, idly tapping it against his leg. “It felt so real.”

“What did?” I asked as I cracked two painkillers out of the blister back and went to get him a bottle of water.

“Sydney,” he murmured as I put the pills in his hand and went to take the box back but his fingers closed tightly around it. “I can still remember how it felt holding him, I can still hear his cries. What if…” He bit his lip and looked up from the box that held him fixated, his eyes clear and bright. “What if you don’t take these?”

Click here for chapter twenty seven.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {7}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, kissing - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || under construction

It was nearly two hours later that the race began. I had used the free time while Pierre prepared further with his team to go to the food court set up in the middle of the paddock. Most of the media were hanging around the starting grid in the hopes to capture a quote or two from the drivers as they prepped so it was relatively peaceful to grab a bite to eat for Addie and I.

“Brianna Vowles, look who’s all grown up.” I looked up from wiping the mess off Addie’s face to find the owner of the deep german accent and grinned at the recently retired driver, Sebastian Vettel. “I remember when you used to run around the paddock stealing everyone’s merch.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree apparently, she’s getting a good collection,” I said with a nod towards Addie and he offered her a high five, commenting on how much she had grown as well. I hadn’t seen him since the 2022 Aston Martin pre-season dinner and Addie hadn’t even turned one. “I thought you would be spending your retirement out fishing or whatever pensioners do now.”

“Ouch, you wound me,” he joked as he clutched his chest with a laugh. “It’s hard to cut away completely, and it’s Monaco. What about you? You haven’t been to one of these in years.”

“I just graduated so this is my present to myself, and it’s Monaco.”

“Came for the race, stayed for the driver, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re as bad as those vultures. You aren’t a columnist for a gossip mag are you?” 

“Hell no. You grew up in the grid, it was alway going to happen. Ask Hamilton, and then tell him I said ‘I told you so’.” The 30 minute alert for the race beeped and Sebastian looked around the empty courtyard. “Better get back to the pit, it's bad luck to start a race without seeing your girl. Never know when it will be the last.”

“Well that's depressing,” I murmured with a frown, not having dwelled on the reality of racing. It was by no means a safe sport. 

“It’s the truth.” He shrugged and got up from the seat he had taken at our table. “We go into the races without regrets or the what if would eat us alive if something happened. It's harsh but that’s just how it is.”

I rose from the table and took Addie’s hand as his words echoed in my brain. “It was good to see you Sebastian, and thank you.”

“For what?”

“Reminding me of something I had forgotten.”

He was left confused but I had clarity and I needed to get to the grid before the race started.

The pit had changed completely from when I had left and now the garage was lined with chairs so the crew could sit and watch the action until they were needed when the driver boxed. That was where I left Addie, promising I would be back quick. There was a quiet calm all along the lane but that stopped when I stepped out to the wall and saw the masses all on the grid doing last minute prep to the car.

“Pierre!” I called out but he couldn’t hear me with his earplugs in, almost meditating alone while chaos surrounded him. Elbows were nudged and the call went down the crew until one tapped Pierre on the arm and pointed to where I was standing against the fence, fingers curled around the warm chain that stopped me from reaching him. 

He jogged across the asphalt with a smile until he was close enough that I could hear him over the noise of the crowd. “Mon ange, I was looking for you.” He bit his glove and tore it from his hand.

 “I’m here,” I said as he reached through the chain to cradle my face in his palm and I leaned into the touch, savouring it after Vettel’s words. “I don’t want to regret anything, Pierre.”

“I know, that’s why we are taking this slow.”

I shook my head and his lips pursed in confusion until I clarified, “I would regret wasting time that is not promised to us. I don’t want to regret that.”

“You mean…”

The alarm for the drivers to get in their cars started and I placed my hand over his. “Hurry up and kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he scaled the chain fence and pulled me into his arms. The air was electric as he kissed me and I was certain the pyrotechnics had accidentally set off the fireworks before the race ended as colour danced behind my closed eyes. 

I didn’t want it to end but Otmar was shouting for Pierre to get back over the fence and into his car. “Go show Monaco what Pierre Gasly can do,” I ordered as I pointed to his car. 

He grinned and stole one fleeting kiss before he climbed back over the fence and ran to his car, shoving his hand back in his glove along the way. 

–

“Oh my, what a spectacular performance from Gasly, moving into 4th position,” commentator Martin Brundle gushed on the tv behind me as Pierre made it past the pit exit before LeClerc could get back on the track. “Now this is a driver who has been very consistent this season, collecting points and keeping Alpine safely in 4th for the Constructors Championship ahead of Ferrari.” 

“Seven laps to go, pace is good,” Karel advised over the comms. 

“And Perez?” 

I could see the blue tail of the Red Bull car just ahead of Pierre but the cars were going so fast it wasn’t much more than a blur on the small cameras that were attached to the car. 

“0.7 seconds ahead.” 

Pierre was pushing the car into the turns, the slicks working to keep him on the track. He was so close to the podium he could taste it and I could barely stay in my seat as I watched the distance close before reaching the only straight where DRS could be activated. 

“Come on, come on,” I chanted to myself as I nervously bounced Addie on my knee.

“You are cleared for DRS.” 

The rear wing shifted as Pierre pressed the button on his steering console and he pulled out from the slip stream Perez had been providing. The car hurtled forward along the narrow straight and cheers erupted in the paddock as Pierre pulled in front, slowing down a little to take the corner he had reached.

“P3 for Gasly, 4 laps to go, and there is less than 5 seconds separating the leaders here with Hamilton and Verstappen ahead,” Martin laughed like it was a miracle. “We have not seen him driving like this since Monza 2020.” 

“Is Pear going to win?” Addie asked excitedly as she clapped her hands.

“He’s trying his best,” I said with a squeeze. “That’s what matters.”

I turned my attention to the lap times along the side of the screen and saw Pierre was only split seconds off beating the current fastest lap held by Max. That bonus point could be the difference between places in the championship and there were only two laps left of the race.

I grabbed the receiver my headset was plugged into and changed the channel before pulling the microphone down to my lips. 

“Pierre,” I called out, flinching when half a dozen heads turned towards me as they all heard me too. “Take Massenet left-of-centre. Trust me.” 

Otmar was on his feet waving a hand at me but I was too engrossed on the screen in front of me as Pierre approached the tight corner. “Okay,” he breathed and we all watched as he entered the corner blindly from the left, his hands holding the steering console steady as the centre of mass shifted and pulled him out the other side, just missing the outside wall. 

“And Gasly has shaved 2/10 of a second off his previous sector time. He has become one with his car, ladies and gentlemen, and I have the feeling this is the start of something great for Alpine.” 

I tuned out of the commentary as Pierre pushed the car hard to the very last turn and his crew ran out of the pit to climb the fence as the chequered flag fell. 

“Bri?” Pierre asked as he took a warm down lap and the cheers from his team quietened down an iota.

I smiled and nodded, forgetting that although I could see him he couldn’t see me. “I’m here, I’m just a little speechless.”

“Will you go to dinner with me?” 

Heads turned expectantly and I couldn’t hide the grin on my face as I nodded again. “She’s nodding,” Otmar confirmed before I could give him an answer and the team's laughs carried around the pit as we made our way to the track while the warm down lap came to an end, “and I’m happy to babysit.”

“Thanks, boss,” Pierre chuckled and parked beside the Red Bull car with Lewis’ Mercedes on the other side. 

Otmar kept Addie and I at his side so the overly excited teams didn’t push us against the metal barrier and the moment Pierre pulled his helmet from his head his eyes locked on mine. My face was going to be sore by morning if this smile didn’t stop but it was pain I would welcome seeing how ecstatic he was with his podium finish. 

The same couldn’t be said over at Red Bull as Max smashed his helmet onto the ground in a fit of anger before the news came across the headset I was still wearing.

“What happened?” Pierre asked since he wasn’t wearing his earpiece anymore but the shock on our faces was enough to know something had occurred.

“Max had to take evasive action when he passed Norris again in the last lap, all four wheels were off the track - it's a five second penalty,” I repeated, still reeling at the news as he stood there looking unphased. “You finish 4.7 seconds behind him, Pierre. You’re in second place!”

“No fucking way,” he gaped and Otmar pulled him forward into a hug to clap him on the back. “Second in Monaco, holy shit.” He pulled my necklace out from under his suit and kissed it before taking it off and hanging it back around mine, the metal hot from the body heat inside the suit. “I want to kiss you very much,” he whispered in my ear as he clasped the chain at my nape.

The media was already blinding us with their camera flashes, my fist still ached from punching Trent and I promised dad I would be more careful. But I couldn’t deny the magnetism that drew me to him and all my good intentions to go slow had been washed away in a flash flood thanks to Sebastian. 

His eyes flashed with surprise when I curled my arms around his neck but he reacted just as quickly wrapping his around my waist and dipping his face down to mine.

“It’s going to be hard to say we are just friends after this,” he said as he pulled back just enough to give me space to change my mind.

“We could never be just friends.” I rose on my tiptoes and captured his lips, fingers combing through his wet hair while cameras flashed all around us. 

We broke apart breathless to cheers from the team and he grinned back at them, shaking the hands he could reach. 

“Go on,” I said with a push so he could venture further away. “You deserve this, enjoy it.”

Click here for chapter eight.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Summary: Brianna Vowles grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with her father and Uncle Otmar in Formula One, until she went to college. Suddenly her life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, she graduated with her engineering degree and had decided to use her VIP pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, domestic violence survivor, lots of drama and fluff, this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || under construction

The moment Adelaide was asleep I opened my laptop and fired an email through to my psychologist. Considering how much she had earned from my family over the years, I wasn’t surprised to see a link for a zoom call come through within ten minutes. Ever since I escaped Erik’s clutches Dr Shirley Pascoe had been there to help me take back my control and unravel the tangled thoughts in my head so I could be the mother that Adelaide deserved. She was an innocent child and I would not hold her accountable for her father’s actions, even when it was hard. 

The zoom call connected and Dr Pascoe’s face appeared with the monotone grey walls of her office filling the background. I knew Addie wouldn’t be asleep for too long and didn’t want to waste the time we had on pleasantries so cut right to the chase. 

“I met someone today,” I started vaguely, feeling as if I were confessing to a priest and not my therapist. “He was nice and friendly but I completely froze up when he touched my knee.”

Shirley waited for me to continue or maybe the internet froze for a moment but finally she spoke with that irksome serene tone she had perfected. “And how were you feeling before he touched you? Was it a welcomed touch?”

“I…was comfortable.”

“That’s good, what about when he touched your knee?”

“It made me feel something I didn’t expect, something I haven’t felt since Erik - that’s when I kind of freaked out.”

Shirley wrote on her notepad like she did when I saw her in person, her grey bob cut swaying with the cursive writing. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” I huffed and picked at my freshing painted nails before sighing as she waited for the truth. “I felt like I could trust him, talk to him, you know? But I thought I could trust Erik too. What if I’m making another mistake or just have terrible instincts with men?”

“Your instincts saved your life,” she reminded me as she closed the notebook. “Unfortunately in life we all make mistakes, some not as insignificant as others, but we still learn from them. We have spent almost three years building tools to cope with the trauma you survived but a fundamental step is to trust in yourself and the work you have put in to get you to this point. Ask yourself this, would your day have been better or worse if you didn’t interact with this man?”

I frowned at the question thinking it was so obvious that of course it was better having talked to Pierre. He had made me smile, and Addie too. I even liked the warmth of his hand before my flight mode was triggered.

Then I realised that if I applied that question to other men I had spoken to in the last two years that answer did not have the same result. The surprise must have shown on my face because Shirley chuckled. “This progress is good, Brianna. I would like to schedule you in for an appointment when you come home and I would like an update on what you did with this realisation.”

I was still a little stunned but managed to agree to a time and date that I would be back in London and closed the laptop lid. A vibration in my pocket had me pulling out my phone and I opened it to find an unsaved number had texted me. My immediate reaction was to delete the message thinking it was spam but when I saw it had my name I opened it.

From Unknown: Hey Brianna, it’s Pierre. I just wanted to thank you for the Bonjela, you were right, it does work miracles.

To Pierre: Glad it helped. I can’t have the star of my favourite team worrying about anything except the car during the big race.

From Pierre: I’m also sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, it was not my intention. You think I’m the star? 

To Pierre: I’ve seen your stats, Gasly. Otmar may not play favourites with his drivers but the stats don’t lie. 

To Pierre: And I should be the one apologising. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I'm just skittish. It wasn’t your fault. 

From Pierre: My offer still stands if you want to talk.

I stared at the message and chewed on my bottom lip. My stomach was in knots and felt giddy from just a few texts, my thumbs shook as they hovered over the buttons waiting for the response to be typed. This was the step Dr Pascoe was talking about, trust in myself and my instinct. Instinct told me Pierre was a genuinely nice person and Uncle Otmar only signed respectable, loyal people to his team knowing having a good heart was worth more than just talent alone. 

Pierre had a good heart.

To Pierre: I’d like that.

The phone rang and I rushed to answer it before the ringtone woke Addie. “That was quick,” I said quietly, covering the microphone so my voice didn’t carry into the bedroom. “I didn’t realise you were so interested in hearing my drama.”

His soft laugh in my ear was relaxing and if I closed my eyes it felt like he was right beside me on the couch. “I didn’t want to give you time to change your mind. Have you?”

“Not yet,” I half joked.

“If you do, we can talk about the weather instead.”

“That would be a very boring conversation.”

“I don’t mind, I just like hearing your voice.”

In my head I could see the smile that he was talking through and my own curled up in response. “You are a charming man, Pierre Gasly.”

“Does that mean you’ll say yes if I ask to drive you to dinner tonight?” 

“Come and ask me yourself,” I dared, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. “Room 626, the Hermitage.”

“Already on my way.” 

I heard the phone shifting and what sounded like keys rattling before an engine roared to life and the hand holding my phone began to tremble in anticipation. “Dinner’s not for another two hours.”

“Then there is plenty of time to talk and get to know each other.”

“You might not want to take me to dinner by then, I mean, drive us to dinner, the team dinner.” I wanted to slap myself as I bumbled almost incoherently but Pierre just laughed.

“Sounds like another dare to me, and I love a challenge.”

It was my turn to laugh and the tension began to ease. “I have my own challenge now because I thought I had hours to get ready.”

I knew it wasn’t far from the paddock to the hotel but I was still surprised when only minutes later there was a knock on my door and I struggled to zip the back of my cocktail dress all the way to the top. Holding it tight over my breasts, I hid behind the door as I cracked it open and spun around the second Pierre was inside. “Can you please do me up?”

He brushed my long dark hair over my shoulder and goosebumps rose where his fingers touched my skin as he closed the zip. 

“Thank you,” I said as I turned to face him. “I was too rushed to think about that when I grabbed it from the closet.”

“You look beautiful.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tube of Bonjela but I closed his fingers back around it, still recovering from his compliment.

“Keep it, I have more in Addie’s bag.” He immediately started looking for her and appeared a little disappointed that she wasn’t around until I told him she was still napping. “Help yourself if you want a drink,” I offered as we passed the fully stocked wet bar, grabbing a bottle of water for myself before taking a seat on the outdoor couch that overlooked the race track in the road below. 

He took a seat beside me with a water of his own and his eyes followed the curve of the track as if he could see himself taking each of the turns. 

“This was the room dad always rented when I was a kid,” I broke the comfortable silence. “We would sit out here after practice sessions and he would tell me about each turn, how sharp the angle was, and how best to take them. I guess I’ll have to make a tradition of it when Addie gets older.”

“Tell me about that one,” he said as he leaned in and pointed towards the closest turn to the hotel, turn three.

“Massenet is best to be left-of-centre. It gives the best rotation going into it but most drivers take a bit of extra road preferring to see around the corner but if you trust the mass delay you can shave some time off and take it blindly.” The words were ingrained in my memory and it was surprisingly easy to recite the details you had heard dozens of times over the years. 

“Wow, I am impressed,” Pierre admitted wholeheartedly as he placed his hand over his chest. “You could be an engineer with information like that. Karel better watch out.”

“I am an engineer, just not that type. I just graduated last month as a mechanical engineer.”

Pierre grinned and nudged his shoulder into mine. “You are amazing. Doing that and raising a child, it’s unbelievable.”

I looked down at my water bottle, nervously picking at the label as my cheeks heated. “I finished two years behind my class.” 

“So? It’s just like out there.” He nodded his head to the paddock and the stands. “When something happens to the car you can either choose to retire it or try for plan b and push hard to finish the race. No one wants a DNF.”

A swell of emotion choked me as he pinned me with those gorgeous green eyes and the intensity of them showed me how much he believed his words. “Thank you,” I managed to say through the lump in my throat and I reached for his hand to give it a small squeeze when words failed me. 

I had done it. I had chosen to initiate the touch, something I hadn’t been able to do in years. It had been something reserved for the people I considered family and trusted with my life. But with Pierre there had been an indescribable connection the moment he had looked at me and I wasn’t going to deny myself the opportunity to explore where it could go.

I hadn’t realised how much I had missed it until he turned his hand over and my fingers drifted between his. “Is this alright?” he asked as his thumb drew small circles over my skin.

The spike of adrenaline began to fade and I nodded as it passed along with the fleeting feeling to take flight. I even went so far as to tuck my legs up under me and lean into his side, craving the warmth that came with being closer to him.

My head came to rest on his shoulder and we started out across the city that was the heart of Formula One. “This wasn’t what I had planned this weekend.”

Pierre agreed with a quiet reply, “I was supposed to be concentrating on the race.”

“You should still be concentrating on the race,” I pointed out, tilting my head back so I could check he was listening. 

“I was until you walked into the garage and took my breath away.” 

He ran his tongue across his lips as he stared at mine and I was equally torn between wishing he would kiss me and hoping he wouldn’t so I could have a moment to think clearly. He was consuming my thoughts too fast for me to even process them but he seemed to see that and broke away from the intense moment we shared. 

My hand tightened in his and he glanced down at our entwined fingers as I decided to share a little more, hoping he would understand my reluctance. “Addie’s father wasn’t a nice man.” 

I took a few deep breaths as I prepared myself to share details for the first time since the news had broken to the world what I had been subjected to. My eyes were fixed on the track and I didn’t dare look away from the familiar turns and straights as I recalled it all with a sense of detachment that kept me from reliving it. 

If my father wasn’t so high up in the FIA I would have just been another domestic violence survivor, but because of his position my situation had become a news bulletin. I became a recluse for months in the wake of the story, hiding from the world until they forgot about me. Just when I thought I was healing from the fractured bones and broken heart I found out I was pregnant. 

“I have spent the last two years completely focused on Addie and finishing my degree so I can finally leave London and move on with my life.” I had forgotten our hands were still joined until he lifted them to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the top of mine. “I don’t know what this is or where it’s going but I want to get to know you, Pierre.”

“Me too,” he said with a reassuring smile. “We can take it slow, I’m a patient man.”

Click here for chapter three.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {22}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

It was almost midnight local time when we landed in Montreal and Addie was fast asleep. I thought she was going to stay awake the entire flight the way she was bouncing on her seat with excitement, more than ready to see Pierre again.

For the first time, I was dreading it.

I had been awake for more than 30 hours, and I had spent every second of the flight dissecting every word we had exchanged on the short phone call. 

‘Are you alright?’ 

‘Fine.’ I lied. ‘You?’  

‘Don’t worry about me.’ 

‘I should have told you.’ 

‘We’ll talk about it later.’ The flight attendant had announced that cellphones needed to be turned off and Pierre had sighed. ‘Je t’aime.’ 

When was ‘later’? And what exactly did he want to talk about? My mind ran through all the possible answers to the questions and every scenario seemed to be more daunting than the last until the wheels touched down and my stomach lurched. 

Was the sigh one of sadness or pity or exhaustion? He said he loved me, that was a good sign. At least I hoped. 

I slung my handbag over my shoulder and picked up Addie, her head coming to rest on my shoulder as she remained asleep and I made my way out of the first class cabin. 

It felt like I was sleepwalking, my feet moving on their own accord and not through any conscious thought of my own. I’m surprised I didn’t flag the security as they asked me the standard questions when I showed my passport. 

“No, not here on business,” I replied in a daze.

“Anything to declare?”

I’m emotionally unstable and might just vomit all over your bench. “No, nothing.”

“Enjoy your stay, Miss Vowles.” He stamped the entry permit onto the next free pages of our passports before handing them back and waving me through to the arrivals lounge. 

Our flight had been full and arrived not long after Pierre’s was supposed to land, so there was still a large crowd despite the late hour. The sudden influx of noise stirred Addie and she lifted her head to look around at the families reuniting. Her eyes lingered on a girl a little older than her as she ran away from a woman and into the arms of a man, screaming ‘daddy’ excitedly. 

She had never really asked questions about her father and I wondered now what she was thinking as she stared at the three of them hugging each other tightly. 

Suddenly she started squirming in my arms and I grunted at the shift in weight as she kicked my suitcase from my other hand. I carefully lowered her to the ground before she moved in a way I couldn’t and was dropped but the moment her feet touched the universal grey vinyl flooring she took off.

“Addie!” I cried out as she disappeared into the crown and I rushed to chase her down.

I stumbled to a stop when I broke through the line of people and heard her squeal with joy as she was lifted into the air. 

“I missed you, princesse,” Pierre said with a grin after catching her and holding her tight. He looked up when Addie turned and pointed to me and the smile was lost as he took a slow step forward, concern replacing the joy his face had held. “Mon ange, you look…”

“Like shit?” I offered but he shook his head and opened his free arm instead of reaching for me. He had always been perceptive of me and it showed when he gave me the choice of his embrace, and I think he had a new understanding of why since seeing the interview. 

I stepped into his arms and wrapped mine around him and Addie. 

“You look tired, mon amour,” he murmured as he kissed my forehead. “Beautiful, but tired.”

“It’s been a rough few days,” I admitted as I looked up at him and saw dark bags under his eyes that hadn’t been visible on the many video calls he managed to make time for. “For the both of us.”

“The worst four days of my life,” he whispered before turning to Addie. “Have you been good for mama?”

Addie was frowning as she looked around the airport and it was like she hadn’t even heard Pierre. We followed her gaze and she was staring at the little girl she had seen before. It was only as they turned and left that Addie looked at Pierre, her head tilted to the side as she poked him in the cheek. “Daddy?”

My lips parted but no words came out as I looked at Pierre, his eyes fixed on Addie. I didn’t know what he was thinking as he kissed her forehead and closed his eyes and gently swayed us side to side. 

“You’re going to rock me to sleep, babe,” I said with a yawn as the days finally caught up with me.

Pierre chuckled and let me go so he could take my suitcase for me. “Come on then, love, the driver’s out front waiting for us. Wait, is that my hoodie?”

His eyes trailed over my body properly for the first time and I bit my lip as I gave him a twirl so he could see the GAS 10 print on the back. “You have so many, I figured you wouldn’t notice if one went missing.”

“It looks good on you, really good,” he said with a wink and a charming smile. “It’ll look even better on the floor.”

The shadow of doubt in my mind wasted away and I felt the tightness in my shoulders and back ease as I realised that while things had changed for me, our relationship was still the same. He was still my flirty and funny and sweet Pierre.

“With pick up lines like that it’s hard to believe you were single when we met,” I teased. 

“I must be a masochist because I missed your sass too.”

“English is a difficult language, it’s pronounced ass.”

Addie lifted her head off Pierre's shoulder and pointed at me. “Mama, naughty word.”

“Yes, mama is being very naughty,” Pierre agreed with a smirk on his face that promised I would pay for the comments later in the best way imaginable. 

Addie was asleep by the time we reached the hotel and Pierre carried her up to our suite, tucking her into bed with a kiss on her forehead while I watched the tender moment from the doorway. I could see why she asked if he was her dad. He treated her the same way she observed fathers treating their daughters and I had seen that lightbulb moment at the airport.

I just didn’t know how Pierre felt about it.

“She missed you a lot,” I said softly as he turned out the light and closed the food behind him.

He took my hand and led me away from our bedroom and into the lounge instead. “I missed her too.” I looked back longingly at the bed I could see down the hall and Pierre chuckled at the pout on my lips. “I know you’re tired, love, but we need to talk.”

I stumbled over the edge of the rug and Pierre stabilised me but I couldn’t find my voice to thank him as those thoughts I thought had been banished came rushing back. ‘We need to talk,’ was usually followed by something bad, and I had spent seven hours on a flight imagining every outcome.

“Hey, hey, you zoned out on me,” Pierre soothed as he cupped my cheeks and guided me back to his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, this can wait until you’ve rested.”

“No,” I rushed, covering his hands with mine to stop him pulling away. “I won’t be able to sleep until I hear what you have to say.” 

He pulled me down on the couch beside him and draped his arm over my shoulders. It should have been cosy but he was upset as he absentmindedly rubbed at his beard and stared at our reflections on the dark tv in front of us. “What you did today, I can’t imagine how hard that was and I hate that I wasn’t there for you.” He turned to look at me with tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. And I am so fucking proud of you, Bri.”

“What?” I couldn’t have been more stunned at the direction of the conversation and my overthinking had led me down a rabbit hole that couldn’t be further from where Pierre was heading.

“I’m so proud of you, mon amour,” he repeated as he took my limp hand and kissed my knuckles. “I saw how hard it was for you to repeat what happened but you didn’t see the comments that were blowing up. In just a few minutes you changed a lot of people's lives.”

“What do you mean?”

He shifted around so he could pull his phone out from his back pocket and unlocked the device. As soon as I saw his finger going for the Instagram app I started to pull away with a shake of my head. I hadn’t reinstalled the app since reading the cruel comments in Barcelona and I knew I would only be more sensitive to what people had to say about me now. “I’m not ready…”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, ever. I just want to show you that you’re not alone, that your story helped other people.” His finger hovered over the icon as he gave me a moment to absorb his words. “May I?”

I didn’t trust my voice but I trusted him and gave a small nod. 

His profile picture was ringed to show he had shared a story and he clicked on the image. Immediately I saw dozens of tiny lines across the top of all the pictures that he had shared, the first one showing on the screen. 

Each one told a story similar to mine.

Some stories came from celebrities and the times that reporters invaded their privacy or their friends and family’s privacy. They talked about the harassment that bordered on obsession until they no longer felt safe in their own homes.

But those weren’t the stories that stole the breath from my lungs and brought tears to my eyes. 

It was the one from the unassuming young woman who I could have walked past on campus and never known it. It was the one from the middle aged woman with wisps of grey streaks in her hair. It was the one from a man around Pierre’s age that had the same fluffy hair poking out from under his cap.

They all told me the same thing. They all told me that I was wrong.

I had said I didn’t want the world to know my shame. They told me I had nothing to be ashamed about. They said that what happened to me, and to them, was not a reflection on who we were and the real shame was that we were made to feel like it was our fault. 

I remembered that internalised guilt and blame. I remembered wearing long sleeve shirts in the summer heat to hide the bruises of his grip, but I had stayed out too late with my friends and I should have known better. So I slowly lost touch with those friends, isolating myself further from all the support that could have helped me. 

My vision blurred until I couldn’t see the next story and a sob broke the silent night.

Pierre tossed his phone onto the coffee table and pulled me onto his lap as my hands locked onto the thick fabric of his hoodie. The sobs wracked my body and he held on to me as tightly as I held on to him, letting the feeling of shame wash away with the tears that fell.

“Thank you, Pierre,” I whispered with my cracked and broken voice. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied weakly, the disappointment in himself palpable.

I leaned back so I could look him in the eyes as I brushed his hair back. “You stayed, when any sane person would have left.”

“Always,” he promised sincerely before his lip curved up. “Shows how crazy I am for you.”

His smile cracked into a grin when I snorted at the line and rolled my eyes. “You’re a doofus.”

“But you love me.”

“I do, Pierre, I really do.”

“I love you too.” He started to lean in for a kiss but I planted my hand on his chest to stop him. 

“Before you distract me, we need to talk about something else.”

It was his turn to look apprehensive as he leaned back. “Okay…”

“Daddy?”

His eyebrow shot up in question. “You want to call me daddy?”

“Oh god, no, maybe papi chulo,” I wheezed as I clutched my stomach and laughed. “Addie called you daddy.”

His smile returned. “I know.”

“So…you’re okay with that?” 

“I’ve always wanted kids, and I don’t care that she’s not biologically mine, I want to watch her grow up and take her to football training or ballet or whatever she wants to do. I love Addie, and when I think about the future I can’t picture it without you and her in it. So yes, of course I am okay with that, if it’s alright with you.” His eyebrows pinched together as he thought perhaps he had overstepped. “Is it alright with you?”

“Gah, now you’ve done it,” I sniffled. “Bloody happy tears.”

“Happy tears I can handle,” he chuckled as he wiped them away, his thumbs brushing over the dark bags that hung under my eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, mon amour.”

I draped my arms around his neck and curled into him. “I’m too lazy to move, I’ll just sleep right here.”

Pierre’s hands cupped my backside to support my weight as he stood up and I wrapped my legs around his waist with a yawn. I didn’t even feel him lay me in bed. My body and my soul knew it was home in Pierre’s arms and I could finally sink into sleep without my demon’s breathing down my neck. 

He had chased them all away. 

Click here for chapter twenty three.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {12}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, media being the usual pain in the ass - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || under construction

Barcelona was as beautiful as I remembered and the weather was stunning when Pierre returned to the pit after finishing the second free practice session. Tensions were high between him and Esteban when we entered the Alpine space but Pierre gave me a kiss and told me not to worry. That was like asking me not to breathe.

I would always worry about the people I cared for. 

“Mama, I’m hungry.”

“Okay, sweetheart, just wait here a second and then we’ll go out.”

Pierre was just climbing out of his seat and in a heated discussion with the technicians about the car's braking when I reached him. “No, it’s not good, I’m telling you.”

He wasn’t even looking my way but his arm opened for me before I reached him and I stepped into the hug to hear the technician apologise and promise to double check the data again. 

“I’m going to take Addie to lunch, there’s a place I haven’t been to in years, they do amazing Caribbean food. Do you want me to bring you anything?” 

He shook his head and brushed his hair back out of his eyes when it flopped over his face. “I would love some, but I don’t think it fits into the pre-race nutrition plan.” He pulled me closer so no one could overhear us. “There’s nothing to stop me from tasting it on your tongue when you get back though.”

“You are a dirty man, Gasly. You look so sweet but some of the things that come out of your mouth…” 

“You love it.” His smirk was hidden by the curtain of my hair but I knew it was there nonetheless and I couldn’t deny it. He knew how his words affected me when we were in the throes of passion.

I rose on my tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips as I answered, “You know I do. I’ll come find you when I get back.”

“Okay, be safe.”

I found Addie drawing on a copy of the race schedule Otmar had given her and promised her we would drop it in the driver’s room for Pierre on the way out. It may have looked like a bunch of scribbles to me but she had an entire story that went along with it to somehow put it into context. Even if he didn’t understand the picture he would still be happy to receive the gift.

The walk to the restaurant wasn’t far but an old ache began in my bad hip along the way and Addie had to slow her pace so I could keep up. 

“Mama, hurry up!” she said, tugging my hand. 

“I can’t, sweetheart.”

“Get hurt?” she asked inquisitively as she watched my slight limp.

“A long time ago.”

She frowned with concern and slowed down. “Need besos?”

I chuckled at her kindness and stopped so I could kiss the top of her head.

“Not me, you, mama.”

“But it worked, I’m feeling much better now.”

She grinned at the news that wasn’t quite true. I was feeling better but my hip wasn’t. Thankfully we had reached the restaurant that looked unusually busy.

“Crap,” I muttered to myself thinking the queue would be huge but the group of people milling about were there for another reason.

“Bri,” Lewis called out over the crowd and their heads turned my way. “Can you please let my friend through?” 

They parted for him like Moses and the Red Sea and felt their stares burning a hole in my back as we walked into the restaurant. Addie rushed to his side first and he picked her up to pop her on his hip so he could keep signing items with one hand. The perks of being an uncle to his own nieces and nephews meant he was totally at ease carrying the extra weight around. 

“Still coming here,” I noted when I was safely inside and he had thanked the crowd for their support and apologised that he didn’t have time to sign more autographs. “Shouldn’t you be at the practice session?”

“Came straight here from it. The gearbox was acting up so we boxed it before the practice timed out and I was starving.”

My walking had obviously slowed us down more than I thought if he had got here as quick as he did. I only hoped I got back before Pierre was off to the next pre-race weekend event the PR team had planned.

“Do you still have the pepperpot or have you expanded your palate?” I asked, knowing the answer already as we walked up to the counter to order. 

“I like what I like,” he said with a laugh.

“Can I please get one vegetable pepperpot, one chicken with rice and one fried sweet plantains?” I ordered for us while Lewis took Addie to the drinks fridge and grabbed two waters and a juice box. 

The older gentleman who owned the restaurant rang up the cash register and looked at me for a moment before his eyes widened. “I recognise you now,” he spoke in the local dialect with a wide grin. “It’s been a while since you last came here with Mr Hamilton, we missed your pretty face.”

“Thank you.” I blushed at the compliment and handed over more than enough cash to cover the food. “I am long overdue for your delicious food and I promise I won’t be away so long next time.” 

“Good, good, it’s sad to see Mr Hamilton eat here alone each year.”

I took the change and dropped it into the tip jar beside the counter and sat down at the table Addie had chosen. 

“What’s this you’re wearing now?” Lewis asked her, tapping the Alpine hat she had hung on the back of her chair. 

“Pee-year gave it to me,” she said with a grin.

“Correction, you stole it from him,” I pointed out to Lewis’ amusement. “He didn’t even get half a carrot for it.”

Lewis pierced the straw into the juice box and held it just out of her reach. “How about you wear a Mercedes hat and I’ll give you this?”

“Resorting to bribery?” I teased but it didn’t work anyway as Addie shook her head adamantly and grabbed her hat with a stern, “I like this one.”

“She must really like Gasly if she’ll sacrifice her juice box for his hat,” Lewis commented. “What about you?”

“Oh, I would definitely sacrifice a juice box for his hat too.”

He laughed and sat back in his chair to stretch his long legs out under the table. “I’ve been in F1 for seventeen years now, known you since you were a pimply teen running round the paddock.”

“I didn’t have pimples!”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Tell that to my ego.”

“Okay, you were the only teen in the world who never had pimples, is that better?”

“I appreciate the lie.” 

He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “Are you two serious or is this just a summer thing? I’m only asking because it’s great having you back and it would suck if you left again. No one else eats anything remotely hot aside from you.”

The platters of food arrived at that moment and the aroma of spices that filled the air was mouthwatering. Addie didn’t even wait for me to dish up some food on a plate for her before she grabbed a slice of crispy plantain and yelped when it was hot. 

“That’s for dessert, but only if you eat some of this first,” I said as I wiped the grease from her fingers and handed over a small plate of chicken and rice. 

When I finally settled in with my own food dished up I found Lewis still waiting for an answer and I reluctantly put my fork back down. “Why is everyone so interested in my love life?”

“So it’s love huh?” he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes and stuffed a forkful of food into my mouth so I didn’t have to entertain him with an answer. The silence was all he needed though and he stabbed at the chunky cut vegetable on his plate with a quiet laugh. “I'm happy for you, Bri.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Me too,” Addie chimed in before looking longingly at Lewis’ food until he pushed his plate closer so she could get a spoonful. 

Lewis ate faster than us, constantly checking his watch before he sighed and said, “sorry ladies, I have to get back for this panel.”

“Go,” I waved him off, “she’ll still be eating for another 20 minutes at this rate.”

He swiped a sweet plantain from the plate and I couldn’t help ribbing him for the deep fried treat, “Are you allowed that much sugar and fat, Sir?”

He grinned and popped it in his mouth as he shook his head. “I won’t tell if you don’t. I’ll see you two round the paddock, stay out of trouble.”

I pretended to zip my lips before remarking to his receding figure, “I never go looking for it, it just finds me.”

His deep laugh echoed back before he disappeared out the door and the few people that had hung around the restaurant soon went with him. 

My leg was aching more with the pain radiating from my hip when we started on our own way back so we took it slow and window shopped along the way. 

“Pretty necklace,” Addie gushed as she pressed her nose to the display window of a jewellery store. “So shiny.”

I looked over at the diamond pendant she was eying up and shook my head before a gold chain in the next display caught my eye. “Come on my little magpie,” I said as I walked to the door and was greeted by a middle aged woman. “Can I have a look at the cross necklace?”

She was happy to unlock the display and bring out the piece, an 18k gold crucifix on a long figaro chain. I draped it over my hand and took a closer look at the detailing on the piece before holding it up to Addie. “Do you think this will suit Pierre?” I was already going to buy the item but I was glad she gave an eager nod. “I’ll take this please, and can it be gift wrapped?”

“Certainly, it won’t be a moment,” the saleswoman said as she took the necklace behind the counter and started packaging it up. While waiting, I felt my phone vibrate and saw dad had sent me three messages in quick succession.

From Dad: I love you my darling daughter but when you’re in the paddock there are always fires to be put out. From Dad: Where are you? From Dad: Brianna Valentina Vowles To Dad: 🏃🏽‍♀️🔥🔥🔥 From Dad: What the hell is that meant to be? To Dad: That’s me, running from the flames. What’s happened? From Dad: Image attached

The picture loaded and I rolled my eyes as I saw it was taken by one of Lewis’ fans while we were in the restaurant. Lewis was holding Addie while we spoke and the caption implied I was making my way ‘round the paddock in more ways than one.

From Dad: There’s no doubt they will bring this up in the interview about to start. From Dad: <link to live feed>

I opened the link and it showed an F1 interview panel with half of the drivers, the other half in the wings of the stage waiting for their turn next as was usual with so many people to interview and never enough time. 

“Excuse me,” the saleswoman said quietly as she presented the gift wrapped box and opened her hand towards the eftpos machine. I barely spared her a glance as I quickly swiped my card and paid for the jewellery while keeping one eye on my phone screen. “Thank you, have a lovely day.”

“You too,” I said distractedly as I shoved the box into my handbag and took Addie’s hand to rush back to the paddock. 

Most of the guys were on their phones until their attention was pulled away as the interviews got started but the camera kept panning back to Pierre and Lewis who were sitting beside each other. They were talking too low for the stage microphone to pick up but Lewis shook his head at whatever Pierre said and the tension that had been brimming eased. 

“Lewis,” the male interviewer drew his attention away from Pierre and a microphone was handed over to him, “Good to see you, you’re looking well.”

“Thanks man, you too.”

“I know you guys take your pre-race diets pretty seriously in the lead up to make sure the weight in the car is optimum. I guess that’s why it was surprising to hear that you stepped out of the paddock for a date with Brianna Vowles who, for those of you who haven’t been following this, has been romantically linked to Pierre Gasly just last week.” The camera zoomed in on Lewis and Pierre as the crowd waited for a response.

Lewis held the microphone away and whispered to Pierre before replying. “Romantically linked? Is that what you call it?” He shared a laugh with Pierre and tilted the microphone over to him. “What do you have to say about that?”

“I mean it’s a little old-fashioned for me,” he said with a chuckle. “I call her my girlfriend.”

“I know I’m probably going to get an earful from the team about going to Jerk Hut but if you tried their food you’d know it’s worth a slap on the wrist,” Lewis joked and pointed knowingly to a loud cheer that went up in one corner of the crowd. “They know it too. And getting to catch up with Bri was a bonus. Ask anyone in F1 who’s been here for more than half a decade and they’ll have a story to tell about her, all good ones I assure you.

“So, Pierre,” Lewis paused as he clapped his fellow driver on the shoulder, “you should know there’s a lot of us who consider her like a little sister, and I don’t need to tell you what happens if you break her heart.”

Pierre crossed his finger over his heart and promised in front of thousands of fans, “no heartbreaking here.”

We had just reached the Paddock Pass entrance and I scanned my card before stepping into one of the many tents set up for shade so I could quickly text my dad and we could both rest our legs after the fast pace Addie had set trying to get back to see Pierre and Poppa Otty.

To Dad: Put the fire extinguisher away, old man, they had it under control. From Dad: Ok, he’s more mature than I gave him credit for. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Pierre too. To Dad: It’s team dinner tonight, why don’t you come with us? From Dad: I’ll give Otmar a call now.

I closed the chat with dad and opened the one with Pierre.

To Pierre: Where are you? From Pierre: Just finished the panel, heading back to the pit now. Did you see the interview? Where are you? To Pierre: I did. I’m sorry you got blindsided by that but I got a gift for you. I’m five minutes away. From Pierre: I don’t need gifts when I have you. To Pierre: Keep saying sweet things like that and I’ll give you something else too babe. From Pierre: Merde. Now I need another ice bath.

I snorted aloud and pulled my cap down lower over my face as a few people turned to the sound. If only they knew how dirty my boyfriend could be, then they would be flushing too.

Click here for chapter thirteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {3}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Summary: Brianna Vowles grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with her father and Uncle Otmar in Formula One, until she went to college. Suddenly her life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, she graduated with her engineering degree and had decided to use her VIP pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, domestic violence survivor, lots of drama and fluff, this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || under construction

Adelaide walked sleepily from the bedroom until she saw Pierre, then she rushed across the room and barrelled into his legs. “Hi Pear!”

“Bonjour, princesse,” he greeted as he picked her up.

She was quick to steal the blue and white Alpine hat from his head and flopped it over hers until it swamped her dark curls to hang over her eyes with a giggle.

“You’ll be lucky if you ever get that back now,” I warned as I went to the kitchen and cut up some fruit for her. She had quite a collection of memorabilia from when we visited Kelly and Max but her favourite was a Mercedes cap she bribed from Lewis with a half eaten raw carrot when we went to Brackley for the day because my dad had a meeting and it had been months since we last saw him in person.

“You can have that one, I have lots of them,” Pierre said as he straightened the hat and met me at the table so Addie could sit and eat.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

She shoved a handful of mango into her mouth but it didn’t stop her from turning to Pierre and saying, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a suppressed laugh.

Addie picked up a slice of apple and offered it to Pierre, pouting when he politely declined. “Share, please,” she said as she lifted it closer to his lips. She laughed triumphantly as she guilt tripped him into eating the piece and I shook my head with a laugh. “Don’t like apples.”

“But they are good for you,” I reminded her as I walked past and bent over the back of Pierre’s seat so I could whisper, “She played you like a violin.”

“I happen to like apples, so it was a win-win,” he replied with a cheeky grin and shared a high five with Addie. “Don’t eat too much, we are going out to a special dinner and I know there will be lots of desserts.”

Addie pushed the plate away and scrambled away from the table to go back to the bedroom. Pierre looked a little confused by the abrupt departure but just as quick as she left she came back with her suitcase dragging behind her.

“We aren’t going to dinner right now, sweetheart,” I said when she unzipped the bag and started rifling through the clothes until she found a purple dress covered with butterflies.

She held the dress up to her and twirled around the room, the colour making her ice blue eyes pop brightly. “Can I wear this?”

“Yes, but find a jacket for when it gets colder.” She wasn’t impressed with the idea of a jacket and instead ran off to the room to get dressed.

“She’s very independent,” Pierre commented as I took a seat beside him at the table.

I snorted a laugh thinking he didn’t know the half of it before covering my mouth at the unladylike sound. “Oh god,” I mumbled as I covered my face but Pierre just grinned when he pulled my hands away.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he chuckled, “it’s cute.”

“Just pretend you never heard it,” I begged and he draped an arm over the back of my chair with an innocent look on his face.

“Heard what?”

I sighed gratefully and sent him a smile as the flames on my cheeks receded. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to go for a drive before we head to the boat?” he asked after checking the time on his phone.

“Boat?” I questioned, looking down at the thin material of the dress I wore. “The team dinner is on a boat?”

“It’s a big one,” he confirmed, thinking I was worried it was going to be a small dinghy. I completely forgot about getting changed into something warmer when Addie came running back into the room, barely missing the doorframe in her haste.

“Look at me!” She held the skirts of the dress out as she spun around and looked like a little princess except that she was still wearing Pierre’s hat.

“Very pretty, but maybe the hat can stay behind,” I tried to suggest but she planted her hands on her head to stop me from taking it away and darted out of my reach. “Okay, fine, Poppa will like it anyhow.”

I grabbed my handbag and checked I had the essentials for the night before convincing Addie to use the toilet. Her carseat was already waiting beside the door where I had left it after the taxi ride from the airport and Pierre picked it up easily while I was helping her get her shoes on.

“I think that is everything,” I stated as I grabbed the room keycard and slipped it into my wallet. “Probably a bit more than you are used to?”

“Not really, Ocon doesn’t travel light either. Did you all carry this in by yourself?”

“Dad sent some poor intern over from FIA, but normally I manage on my own. You just get used to it, you know.”

He fell quiet as we walked to the elevator and Addie took a hand of us both, suddenly dropping her weight to swing between us. Pierre had quicker reactions than I did and caught her weight before she could hit the carpet, sparing us both from hearing her tears that would have undoubtedly come from grazing her knees.

The reprimand faded as she grinned at Pierre and I didn’t want to taint the moment of joy when I remembered how I used to do the same to my parents when I was younger. This was the first time that she got to experience that and I wasn’t going to take that away from her.

“Again!” she demanded as she stopped walking before running forward and swinging. This time I was prepared and we swung her higher before she was safely back on the ground.

My arm was aching by the time we reached the elevator and I was grateful for the reprieve as it went down to the basement where Pierre had parked. I hadn’t even thought to ask what he drove and if it was even suitable for a child car seat but I was pleasantly surprised to see it was a practical Audi Q8.

“For a second I was worried it was going to be a 2 seater,” I admitted when he unlocked the luxurious SUV. “Is it terrible of me to assume that you would only own a Ferrari or McLaren?”

Pierre’s head tipped back with a laugh that echoed across the car park. “Absolutely, if it wasn’t true,” he said with a wink. “Can’t show my face in Monaco in a rival car, so I came in the Audi.”

He opened the back door and placed the car seat inside before scratching his beard. “Uh, how’s this work?”

I showed him how to anchor it in place while he joked that it was more technical than his racing harness, only for him to find the next battle was even harder.

“No, Addie, stop playing, put your arms in,” I said as we wrangled her into the car seat and tried to keep her still long enough to buckle the harness around her. Finally we were triumphant and I climbed into the front seat as Pierre walked around to the drivers side.

It was impossible to look away when Pierre made even just something as casual as walking look good. He could easily have been a model if he didn’t get into formula racing, especially when he ran his hand through his hair and sent a smile my way. It was impossible to resist his charm and it wasn’t even intentional on his part - he was just so likeable.

“East or west?” he asked as he started the car and put it into drive. I supposed even professional drivers wanted the simplicity of an automatic car sometimes.

It had been a while since I drove around Monaco. Most visits had been spent at the FIA track headquarters while dad got ready for the big race, I never came here purely for leisure so I had no idea what was in either direction. “Surprise me.”

“Woah, no pressure or anything,” he joked before pulling out of the parking garage and heading east. He drove along the coastline and I marvelled out the window at the sheer amount of super yachts on the shimmering water.

“That's a bit ostentatious, I can see the Red Bull boat from here,” I commented as the black and red hull stood out among the rest. “Oh, and there’s Lewis’ one. You’ll have one out there soon too.”

His eyes darted across the car to quickly peek at me before he turned back to the road. “You think so?”

“If it’s what you want, I think you can make it happen.” I reminisced on the words of encouragement I had received throughout my formative years. “You’re only limited by your own determination.”

“Otmar?”

A grin parted my lips and I nodded. “Did he give you the same speech too?”

“Every time I get in the car.”

“How about ‘be patient and the opportunity will come’?”

Pierre laughed at the quote. “It’s a favourite of mine.”

“Damn, here I was thinking I was special.”

My playful pout earned another smile and he reached across the console to take my hand. “I know I may have just met you, but I think you’re pretty special.”

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, their flutterings making me giddy as I giggled, a sound I didn’t know I could make. “Are all French guys this cheesy? What a pick up line, and with the accent - 10/10.”

He dropped a lopsided grin and looked at me as we waited at a red traffic light. “Tu t’appelles Google? Parce que je trouve en toi tout ce que je recherche.” (French: Is your name Google? Because I find in you everything that I’m looking for.)

I burst out laughing and shook my head. “Do you just have these filed away in that brain of yours?”

His eyebrows almost disappeared beneath the waves of hair hanging down. “You understand?”

“Of course!” I gasped with mock offence. “It's practically an unwritten rule in F1 to learn the holy trinity: Italian, French and Spanish.”

“Tu lo capisci?” (Italian: You understand this?)

“Sí, y vas a probar mi español también?” (Italian: Yes, Spanish: and are you going to test my Spanish too?)

“Was that Spanish?” he asked as wove between the traffic and parked in front of a small waterfront playground. “I have no idea what you said but it sounded good.”

“I should hope so. My mother is Mexican and she would probably disown me if I wasn’t fluent.” Pierre looked a little stunned at the news and I laughed as I waved a hand over my body. “I wouldn’t be able to maintain a year round tan in England without her wonderful genes. Thankfully, Addie seems to have got them too, except for her eyes.”

They were the only feature of her father that I could see in her, the ice blue coming from Erik’s nordic heritage while mine were a russet brown. Everything else she had inherited from me, from her dark brown wavy hair to her olive skin. A small part of me was grateful I didn’t see more of him in her, a thought that made me immediately feel terrible because she could look exactly like him and it shouldn’t matter. She was not her father.

Addie was kind and sweet, and she would be raised to know that love didn’t come with stipulations and threats. If it did, then it wasn’t love.

“I thought maybe you got spray tans, like those women on Love Island,” he teased and I punched him on his arm only to feel the hard muscle hiding under his shirt.

“No hitting!” Addie shouted from the back seat and I dipped my head to hide my smile.

“You’re right, baby, that was naughty,” I conceded and unbuckled my belt so we could go explore the playground.

She wasn’t satisfied as she frowned and pointed to Pierre’s arm. “Kiss better.”

Pierre clutched his arm and began to wail about the pain dramatically. “It hurts so bad, I don’t know if I can race tomorrow.”

“Don’t quit your day job for acting,” I warned as I leant over the console and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the stubble of his short beard tickling my lips.

“She was convinced,” he pointed out with a wink to Addie who was clapping in the back. “Wanna go to the park, princesse?”

There was no way a two year old was going to deny the chance to run around after having a nap and being confined to a hotel room. She was so excited she could hardly keep still long enough to free her from the car seat before sprinting ahead of us and straight to the swings.

Click here for chapter four.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {25}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I was going crazy. I had to be.

Pierre had disappeared first, then Granny had excused herself with Matthew before Grandad skipped along after with a feeble excuse of wanting to get to know her new husband and make sure he was treating her well. Then Otmar said he needed to find Esteban but he had walked off in the opposite direction to where you could see his dark head of hair two tables over.

As I sat alone at the table, wondering what had happened to everyone, I looked around for a familiar face but instead I heard a giggle that I knew well. I spun around at the sound and froze as I found everyone that had gone missing and then some.

Pierre stood in front of all of our family that had flown in for the final race, Addie grinning from his arms.

Everyone was dressed in to the nines and they looked like they belonged on the red carpet they would have walked to enter the event. I had never seen my mum in a ball gown but she looked absolutely gorgeous, just like Pierre’s mother, the two women linking their arms together as they smiled at me.

My eyes were drawn back to Pierre as he stepped forward and carried Addie with him, her excitement making her clap her hands. My heart started beating erratically with each step and I rose to my feet to meet him face to face.

“Pierre…” I whispered as he kissed Addie’s temple and placed her feet on the ground.

“I have spent hours planning what to say, but when I look at you, I can barely remember how to breathe. I thought my life had purpose until the day you and Addie walked into my garage. You turned my world upside down and I will forever be grateful for finding the parts of me that were missing.” Pierre gracefully dropped to one knee and took Addie’s hand. “You make me want to be the best version of myself, to be a father that makes his little girl proud…and a husband that spends every day showing his wife she is loved. I can’t do that without you, Bri. Will you marry me?”

I knew then why Granny had insisted on waterproof makeup as I tried to blink away the tears so nothing would blur the image of Addie handing Pierre a small white box. Pierre thanked her sweetly before peering up at me, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears while his fingers trembled as they opened the box.

I wasn’t the only one that gasped as the three gemstones caught the lights. It was a beautiful ring; a large sapphire set between two diamonds that sparkled like the many shorelines we had walked hand in hand.

I had no words but I didn’t need them. He knew me better than I knew myself and his smile widened as my bottom lip trembled and I nodded as more tears fell. My hand shook more than his as he slipped the ring onto my finger and kissed it before standing up, scooping Addie up with him. His arm curled around my waist and my feet were swept off the floor as he spun around to the cheers of our families and friends.

Our kiss held the hint of salt from our tears that united on our cheeks until Addie pushed her hand between us and we pulled away with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you hid this from me.”

Pierre rested his forehead against mine and sighed. “I never want to do anything like this again, I felt ill trying to keep this a surprise.”

“Well, that’s a good start,” I teased, “it would raise a red flag if you wanted to propose again.”

He chuckled and dipped his lips to my ears. “That’s not what I meant.”

I pulled away with a smile and waved my mum over. “I’ve actually got my own surprise. I was going to wait until tomorrow but since everyone is here…Mum?”

“Right here, honey,” she said as she pulled the folded papers out of her clutch. “Been carrying these around all day just in case.”

Pierre wet his dry lips with his tongue as he wondered what she was handing me. I let him take Addie’s weight as I used both hands to unfold the documents that had been six months in the making.

The crowd around us had grown substantially and most of the drivers were amongst our families with their principals as well. Everyone here knew my story, they knew my history, and they had been there to support Pierre and I with the aftermath of it becoming public news.

“To everyone here you are already Addie’s dad,” I said as I straightened out the kinks in the pages, “and there is no one I know that is a more patient, caring man deserving of the title than you.”

Addie smooshed Pierre’s cheeks together and grinned at him, his own smile widening in response as she cooed, “My daddy.”

“That’s right, ma fille.”

I handed him the papers and he took them with one hand.

“You’ve already promised her that she can take the Gasly name when she turns eighteen but what if I said she didn’t have to wait?”

“How?” he asked with astonishment as he shifted Addie to his hip so he could flip through the papers, pausing at the page where four signatures were already inked, penned beside yesterday's date.

“I know a good lawyer,” I said with a grateful smile to my mum.

I had feared the day Erik was released from prison and tried to get back into my life through Addie. After quite a bit of digging, mum had found out Erik and Trent were only working together for the money they knew would come by blackmailing my family. Erik never wanted a relationship with Addie, and I had never been more relieved. He had happily signed away his parental rights with his lawyer and a witness and I had accepted it with mine.

“What is that?” Jean-Jacques asked when a tear slipped over Pierre’s lashes.

Pierre smiled at his dad. “The best gift ever. Does anyone have a pen?”

Lewis was ready with one that he carried around to sign autographs with and he grinned as he saw the letterhead of the document when he handed it over. “Congratulations, man.”

Without Erik being able to interfere it was going to be a relatively simple process for Pierre to adopt Addie like he had once wished when we were out one night and saw a shooting star. It had seemed like a far-fetched idea at the time but I couldn’t shake the image of hope on his face as he talked about being a family in every sense of the word, a family that would one day grow.

Charles pushed forward and peeked over Pierre’s shoulder as he signed the forms that would begin the process and he gasped. “Adoption Order? No way! That’s like the best news of the night, ah, well, equally best news, of course, since I’m going to finally be your best man. So when is the wedding?”

“Bro, we just got engaged,” Pierre laughed as he handed the signed papers over to my mum to take care of and pulled me back into his arms.

“Yeah, but you made a ten year plan the second you met her.” Charles looked around the drivers and pointed to Daniel. “We even held a little funeral for you at the Monaco afterparty, didn’t we?”

Daniel tipped his head back with a roaring laugh that was contagious. “Another bachelor gone but not forgotten.”

“Haha, really funny,” Pierre said with a roll of his eyes but he couldn’t contain his own laughter. “I’ll remember this when you assholes finally settle down.”

“Daddy, that’s a naughty word,” Addie tutted, encouraging another round of laughs from his colleagues.

“I’m sorry, but they deserve it.” Pierre looked around the gathering and saw even the investors had joined the crowd. “Now, I think I have rubbed enough elbows for the evening that no one will protest if I go and celebrate with my family.”

Pierre laced his fingers with mine, lifting my hand to admire the ring that fit perfectly upon it with a beaming smile. His nose grazed along my jawline, his lips softly trailing until he reached my ear and whispered, “You have made me the happiest man, my beautiful fiancée.”

“I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to keep you that way.” I tugged on the bowtie he hated to wear and unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt so he could relax a little bit in the formal attire. “It’s a shame we aren’t in Vegas anymore.”

“My mum would probably kill me if we eloped.”

I giggled and nodded, knowing my own wouldn’t be happy with the idea either. “And my mum would probably get her off the charges. So a big wedding?”

“Go big or go home.”

“Alright, alright, enough whispering sweet nothings among lovers,” Charles teased as he approached. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“Oh, sorry, Leclerc, Alpine family only,” Otmar chimed in as he swiped his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Unless you’re looking for a new team next season?”

I rolled my eyes and nudged the crestfallen Ferrari driver. “Tonight’s an exception, right Uncle?”

Otmar narrowed his eyes at the term I hardly used once I grew older. “She’s playing dirty. Fine, you can come but I know it’s only because you hate these events as much as Pierre.”

“I’m not going to deny that,” Charles said with a grin to his friend.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Frederic reminded his driver before making his way back to Ferrari’s table, a final piece of advice cast over his shoulder with a wave. “You can drink as much as you want tomorrow night.”

I turned to Pierre. “Why didn’t you wait until tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to hold onto it another day?” he asked with a cheeky grin as he reached for my ring and I pulled it back.

“No, I was just curious.”

His smile faded as he turned thoughtful. “Because we never know what will happen out there and I knew I would regret missing this moment if I didn’t.”

He saw how his words affected me and passed Addie over to Charles so he could pull me fully into his arms. “I wish I could promise you everything will be okay.”

“I prefer your honesty,” I replied softly as my lips hovered over his. “No regrets.”

Click here for chapter twenty six.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover