#gasly

[mythicalmaven]

Gotta Be You - Charles Leclerc (TWO)

Time for another chapter😊 Chapter three will be out soon too! & i promise you, some major interesting things will happen😏

masterlist | promptlist | previous chapter ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!gasly!reader ↳word count: 3,5K ↳warnings: tension, angst, friends to enemies to lovers, jealous!charles ↳side info: reader is Pierre's younger sister & Arthur Leclerc's childhood best friend ↳summary: In which you go on a shared holiday with both your best friend's (arthur) & your brother's (pierre) friend group, forced to be confronted with your former teenage crush Charles LeClerc yet again. The only problem is? You can't stand him nowadays, until you suddenly can.

You could carefully say that you'd managed to handle the first three days with Charles on the same floor as you. Survived was probably the best way to put it. You’d thought that your somewhat civil exchange on the balcony might pave the way for more neutral ground between you, but that illusion had quickly shattered. In fact, the tension seemed even worse now, and, if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely blameless for it.

Every interaction had become a test of wills, a clash between your determination not to fall into the Charming Prince Charles trap again and his maddening ability to push your buttons. You told yourself it was for the best—that if you didn’t keep your guard up, you might let old feelings resurface, feelings you were certain you’d buried long ago.

At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

This morning, you were trying to distract yourself from all of it, rifling through your suitcase for something to wear to the beach. You pulled out a black bikini bottom and a pair of shorts, slipping them on quickly. You paired it with a matching top, but as you tied the straps around your neck, you realized you couldn’t reach the ones at the back properly.

You sighed, glancing around the room for a solution before deciding to use the mirror in the shared bathroom. It was supposed to take all of ten seconds, and you didn’t bother locking the doors—your side or Charles’. After all, what were the odds of him walking in at just the wrong moment?

The mirror wasn’t much help. The angle was awkward, and no matter how you contorted your arms, you couldn’t get the strings to tie properly. Frustration bubbled up, and you huffed loudly, letting the straps fall to your sides. The fabric of the bikini top hung loosely, barely covering your chest as you pressed your elbows in to keep it in place.

You leaned against the counter, grabbing your phone from your shorts pocket to text Kika for help. Just as you hit send, you felt it—a shift in the air, a presence behind you.

The scent hit you first. That maddening mix of his cologne and something undeniably him. Your body tensed as you froze, and your phone slipped from your grasp, clattering onto the floor. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“What are you doing here?” you snapped, whipping your head over your shoulder. Your suspicion was confirmed: Charles stood leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk firmly in place.

“You left the door open,” he said, his voice infuriatingly calm. “And it sounded like you needed help.”

Your breath hitched as his eyes darted down, openly taking in the view of your exposed back. His gaze lingered on the curve of your shoulders, the bare expanse of your spine, before traveling lower. Heat rushed to your face as you straightened instinctively, clutching the fabric tighter against your chest.

“Charles, leave,” you said, your voice wavering despite your best efforts. “I don’t need your help.”

“Right,” he said, stepping into the bathroom anyway, his smirk deepening. “Because you were doing sooo well on your own..”

Your pulse quickened as he closed the distance between you, his movements slow, deliberate. You could see him in the mirror now, his expression equal parts amusement and something else—something that made your stomach flip.

“Charles, I mean it,” you tried again, but your voice came out softer than intended.

“Relax,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours briefly in the reflection. “I’m just tying a knot. Unless you’d prefer to flash everyone at the beach?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out. His hands brushed your hair aside, the gentle touch sending a shiver down your spine. He draped it over one shoulder, exposing more of your back to his view.

Charles hesitated for a moment, his hands hovering near your skin as if giving you a chance to protest. When you didn’t, he reached for the loose strings, his fingers grazing your sides lightly as he pulled them together.

Your breath caught at the contact, and you watched his every move in the mirror, unable to tear your eyes away. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as he tied the straps securely.

“There,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “All done.”

But he didn’t move away. His hands lingered, smoothing the straps into place, his fingertips brushing against your skin in a way that felt far more intimate than it should have.

You couldn’t stop your eyes from flicking up to his in the mirror. For a moment, the air between you felt charged, thick with something unspoken. His gaze was heavy, his usual confidence tempered by something quieter, more vulnerable.

“You’re staring,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

“So are you,” he countered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Before either of you could say another word, a loud cough broke the tension.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You turned sharply to find Kika standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a knowing grin on her face "N-No, Charles was just leaving" you stuttered.

Charles carefully smiled, the smirk every so small, but yet still noticeable, clearly enjoyed by your flustered reaction.

Kika held up her phone in your direction, obviously referring to your text "Got your text, but looks like someone beat me to it,” she teased, glancing pointedly at Charles’ hands still hovering near your waist. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Kika, wait!” you called, but she was already walking away, her laughter echoing down the hall.

You started to follow her, but Charles caught your wrist, his touch firm but not forceful. You glanced up at him, confused, only to follow his gaze to the floor where your phone still lay forgotten.

“You forgot your phone,” he said, releasing you.

You bent to grab it, muttering a quick “Thanks” before rushing out of the bathroom, your heart pounding as if you’d just run a marathon.

The moment you caught up to Kika, you opened your mouth to speak, but the Portuguese girl was quicker, holding up a hand to stop you as a smirk spread across her lips.

“Y/n, don’t even try to convince me that was nothing,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Shut up.”

Kika laughed lightly, tilting her head as if studying you. “Hmmm…” she hummed, her grin growing.

Her teasing was relentless, and as you tried to suppress the heat creeping into your cheeks, you gave her a playful shove. “Oh, stop it, will you?”

Kika stumbled slightly, laughing even harder. “I’m just saying, it’s interesting timing. Very interesting…”

You opened your mouth to respond but were interrupted by Arthur, who had just stepped out of his room. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the two of you, his curiosity clearly piqued.

“You seem awfully cheery,” he remarked, his gaze flicking between you and Kika.

Kika’s smirk deepened as she turned to Arthur, her voice laced with mischief. “Did you know that your brother just had his hands—”

“Oh my god, no,” you interjected quickly, cutting her off mid-sentence. You reached out, clapping a hand over her mouth to stop the words from spilling out. “Don’t even go there.”

Kika mumbled something against your hand, laughing, and you gave her a mock glare before letting go. She grinned wickedly, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

Arthur, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, his interest now fully piqued. “His hands were?”

You groaned, exasperated, throwing your hands in the air. “She’s acting as if I voluntarily let that happen. Ew. Absolutely not.”

Arthur’s confusion turned to amusement as he folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, so what did happen?”

You sighed dramatically. “Nothing major. I couldn’t tie my bikini top, and Charles just—”

“Had his hands on your back,” Kika interjected, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Tied my top!” you corrected quickly, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “That’s it. That’s all he did. Don’t get your hopes up, okay? I still hate him.”

Arthur chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “Sure you do. Sounds like a riveting story, though. Keep going.”

“Arthur,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face "You two are acting like this is something massive.."

Kika wasn’t letting up, either. “You two being in the same room and not trying to kill each other? That is massive.”

“Oh, please.” You gave her another playful shove, but her laughter only grew.

Arthur tilted his head, his grin widening. “To be fair, it does sound like progress.”

“It’s not progress!” you snapped, though the laughter bubbling in your chest betrayed your indignation. “It’s called tolerating someone for a split second.”

Kika leaned closer to Arthur, mock-whispering, “She’s in denial.”

You groaned again, throwing your hands up as they both burst into laughter. “You two are impossible.”

Arthur straightened, a teasing smirk still plastered on his face. “Hey, at least now we know Charles can be useful for something.”

Kika snorted, leaning against the wall for support as she laughed. “You mean tying knots and causing chaos?”

You shook your head, exasperated but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, we’re done here. Both of you—out of my business.”

Arthur raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But for the record, I still think this is hilarious.”

Kika grinned, looping her arm through yours as you both started down the stairs. “I’m just saying, if you guys don’t kill each other by the end of this trip, I’m calling it a win.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Thur” you muttered, though the laughter in your voice betrayed you "Still got a month to go"

As the three of you made your way downstairs, the teasing faded into lighter banter, but the lingering heat in your cheeks and the memory of Charles’ hands on your back stayed with you. You hated how your mind kept returning to that moment, to the way his touch had felt far more intimate than it should have been.

But for now, you shook it off, determined not to let them—or Charles—get to you. Not again.

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The sun hung high over the sparkling blue ocean, casting a golden glow over the beach. Waves crashed rhythmically, blending with the sound of laughter from your friends. The sand felt warm under your feet as you adjusted your stance, eyes locked on the volleyball soaring through the air.

With a leap, you smacked the ball cleanly over the net, landing the perfect shot. Arthur groaned dramatically, while Inès burst into giggles as they missed the return. Arthur wiped sweat from his brow and looked at Inès with mock defeat. "Honestly, I didn’t expect us to be this horrible at this game," he admitted with a chuckle.

You laughed, adjusting your ponytail. "You’re good at other things, Thur. Let me win at least one thing!" you teased.

Before you could serve again, Dennis appeared by your side, grinning wide. His sun-bleached hair was damp from the ocean, and his smile carried an air of mischief. "You’re better at this than I expected," he admitted, his voice teasing. "But… I think you could use a little pro-level trick."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. "Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me I suck at beach volleyball?"

Dennis laughed, his shoulders shaking. "No, no! You’re honestly good at it," he promised, placing a hand lightly on your arm. His touch was casual but lingering just enough to seem… something else. "I just know a trick that’ll make it even funnier when we destroy those two."

"Hey!" Inès protested from across the net, pointing at you both. "That’s not fair! This feels like cheating!” she accused, her hands on her hips, a laugh leaving her lips.

Dennis raised a brow, unfazed. “How is teaching cheating?”

“You’re practically glued to her!” Inès shot back with mock indignation, though she was clearly fighting back laughter.

Arthur crossed his arms, smirking. "Getting cozy there, Hauger?" he called out, emphasizing Dennis’s last name with playful sarcasm.

Dennis turned his head slowly, fixing Arthur with a mock-threatening glare. “Jealous, Arthur? Want me to teach you too?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, laughing. “We’re playing beach volleyball, not filming a rom-com!”

Your laugh burst out, light and easy. You nudged Dennis with your elbow. “Alright, coach, show me this magical trick before Arthur starts drafting a movie script.”

Dennis smirked but quickly turned serious. "Okay, watch carefully.” he positioned himself behind you, gently placing his hands on your waist. "It’s all about balance and angle," he explained, sliding his hands down to adjust your stance, his fingers brushing your hips. "You’ve got great posture... perfect for this."

You smirked, shooting him a knowing look. "Smooth way of complimenting me, Dennis."

He grinned unapologetically. "What can I say? I'm observant, can’t blame me for stating facts. Also... you smell like coconut sunscreen—kind of unfair when I’m trying to concentrate."

Before you could respond, a flicker of movement caught your eye. Charles was stood off to the side, making his way over to one of the loungers, casually watching, though his jaw seemed a bit tighter than usual.

“Hold your arms like this when you jump," he instructed, adjusting the angle of your hands. “When you hit the ball, let your wrist snap like this…” His hand covered yours briefly, guiding the motion.

His voice dropped slightly, almost teasing. “And try not to get distracted by how good I smell while I’m being incredibly helpful.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin. “I thought I was the one who smelled like coconut sunscreen.”

Dennis leaned just a little closer. "Fair point—you do smell pretty good," he admitted with a smirk.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Charles, now sprawled out on a sunbed, his gaze fixed on the two of you, obvious even through his sunglasses. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw still seemed noticeably tense.

Dennis chuckled softly, lowering his voice. “Pretty sure Charles is sending me daggers right now.”

You snorted. “Trust me, he’s probably thinking of killing me, not you.”

"You're oblivious, girl" he joked back at you.

You rolled your eyes at Dennis and sighed "Oh shut it, before I use my perfect posture to slam the ball into you" you huffed out with a laugh, playfully pushing his shoulder.

Dennis grinned but stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Focusing, you adjusted your stance, trying to copy exactly what Dennis teached you. As the ball came sailing over the net, you bent your knees, jumped, and snapped your wrist just like he’d shown you.

The ball hit the far corner with precision, landing just inside the line.

Cheers erupted from your side of the net. Dennis whooped, grabbing your hands and spinning you around. “Yes! You nailed it!”

Arthur groaned, falling backward into the sand with theatrical defeat. “We’re doomed. This just got so much worse.”

While you were having fun, playing beach volleyball with the others, Charles had spend the entire time mocking, unable to enjoy the sun. He had been sprawled out on one of the loungers, had his sunglasses perched low on his nose. The sun beating down on him as if mocking his sour mood. The waves crashed gently on the shore nearby, a rhythmic backdrop to the laughter and chatter coming from the makeshift beach volleyball game a few feet away. He tried his best to appear disinterested, but his eyes betrayed him, constantly flicking back to the game where you were laughing and joking with Dennis, Inès, and Arthur.

The sound of your giggles carried over the beach, clear and light, grating against his nerves in a way he didn’t fully understand. He used to be the one who made you laugh like that. The one who knew exactly how to tease you until your face lit up with that same carefree joy. Now, the distance between you felt insurmountable, and it frustrated him to no end.

“When are you gonna stop acting like a complete douchebag with her?” Joris asked lazily from the lounger beside him, breaking through Charles’ brooding thoughts. He sipped his drink, his tone teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.

Charles rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the lounger. “She just gets on my nerves. Every time I see her, it’s like she’s trying to piss me off.”

Joris chuckled, swirling the ice in his glass. “Right. And you’re just an innocent victim here. Come on, Charles, she doesn’t get on your nerves—you let her get to you. There’s a difference.”

"It's not as if all those arguments are fake, she's honestly really making me angry loads of times" Charles huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s not exactly being nice to me either, you know.”

Joris raised an eyebrow. “I’m not saying she is. But this whole fake arrogance thing you’re doing? It’s not fooling anyone, except for her maybe”

“What the hell are you insinuating?” Charles muttered, his voice clipped.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Joris drawled, setting his drink down and turning to face Charles fully. “Maybe that even a blind man could see you’re in love with her?”

Charles froze for a second, then scoffed, the sound bitter. “I am not in love with her,” he said, though the lie tasted sour in his mouth. “She just knows exactly how to push my buttons, that’s all.”

“Right.” Joris snorted, leaning back on his lounger with a knowing grin. “And that’s why you’re glaring holes into Hauger right now.”

Charles’ jaw tightened instinctively, and his gaze snapped back to you. Dennis was behind you again, his arms loosely wrapped around yours as he helped you practice yet another volleyball technique. The proximity between the two of you was maddening—Dennis’ hands guiding yours, his voice close to your ear, and your laughter spilling out freely as if you didn’t have a care in the world.

Charles’ fingers clenched into the fabric of his lounger. “I don’t care who she cozies up to,” he said, his tone sharp and unconvincing.

Joris let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar, mate. That’s eating you alive, and we both know it.”

Charles didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the game as his thoughts churned. He watched the way you smiled at Dennis, the way you tossed your hair back in the sun, completely at ease. He hated how his chest tightened at the sight, jealousy twisting inside him like a knot.

“And even if I was…” Charles muttered finally, his voice softer, tinged with frustration. “What difference would it make? It’s not like I can do anything about it. She doesn’t feel that way about me anymore.” He hesitated before adding in a near whisper, “Not anymore.”

Joris’ teasing demeanor softened at his friend’s admission. “I’m not saying you should do anything about those feelings. But treating her the way you are now? That’s not working either. If anything, you’re just pushing her further away.”

Charles sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s easier this way,” he admitted, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “If she hates me, maybe I can get over her. I tried being friends with her before, and it didn’t work. I couldn’t stop feeling like this.”

Joris leaned forward, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “You can’t control how you feel, Charles. But throwing away your friendship because of it? That’s not the answer. You two had something great. Don’t let it go to waste just because you can’t sort out your feelings.”

Charles didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting back to you. You were now doubled over with laughter as Dennis tried—and failed—to demonstrate a trick shot, tripping over the volleyball in the process. The sight should’ve been funny, but it only made Charles’ chest ache.

“I know,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I just… I could’ve had my chance, and I wasted it.”

Joris sighed, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re not wrong. But sitting here wallowing about it isn’t helping anyone. And honestly? It’s stupid to waste everything you had—everything you could still have—over a crush. Treating her like this? It’s not just unfair to her—it’s unfair to you. You’re better than this, Charles.”

Charles closed his eyes, frustration and regret warring within him. “The problem is that it's not just a crush, Joris,” he muttered after a long pause. “It’s not something I can just turn off. I’m so in love with her… it hurts.”

Joris leaned back, giving him a moment of silence to collect himself. The sound of your laughter reached them again, and Charles opened his eyes, watching you as a sad smile played on his lips.

“Just don’t let your feelings destroy what you still have, my friend” Joris said softly. “Because if you keep going like this, you’ll lose her completely.”

Charles didn’t answer, but the weight of his friend’s words settled heavily on his shoulders. The truth was painful, but it was impossible to ignore.

previous | next

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taglist: @vroomvro0mferrari @fishyfishersticks @prttylight @tempo-rary-fix @suns3treading @a-beaverhausen @formula1fordisaster @janeh22 @leclercdream @sageskiesf1 @ch16les @emryb @vyctorya @asmoothoperator

[existence-is-overrated]

i don’t normally go here but someone get writing a pierresteban reunion fic about this weekend NOW

[andreine03]

Now this 🤌🏻

[nicovarrone]

i see the reference

[takaisayaka]

Happy “YUKIERRE” Time

[makeagif]

is this how golf is supposed to work?

[martaaairwin1994-blog]

My brand ❤️‍🩹

[isawthesainz]

scuderiaferrari Pour Anthoine, coming together to honour his memory ❤️

[sainznet]

PIERRE GASLY after quali | us gp '24

[81buttons]

Can we talk about the fact that Pierre likes almost all of Franco’s posts with Argentine fans and about the weekend recap in general, I know it’s not a big deal, but seeing drivers from my two nationalities getting closer 🥹 it really touches me.

[poscariastri]

i understand that without my agreement

[charlesslut16]

-its over-

summary : you break up with pierre...

PAIRING : pierre gasly x fem!reader

WARNINGS : angst, includes curse words

masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pierre, your boyfriend of 2 years would always put you last, his friends, racing and his girl best friend would always come first, and you had an enough of his behavior.

Today was the last straw, it was your birthday and all your friends and family were here celebrating it with you, but pierre. Your own boyfriend. He couldn't even bother to come to his own girlfriend's birthday.

You checked your phone, went on Instagram, because you got a message that he posted a story. You opened the story and saw him with his friends and his girl best friend at the club. 

"Happy fucking birthday to me" you laughed as you cried. Your tears running down your face, but you couldn't seem to stop.

Pierre and you shared an apartment, you grabbed your bags and started shoving your clothes in the bag. One after another. Until none of your clothes were in the closet.

You had absolutely enough of his shit.

You heard the door unlock, the keys jiggling and the door closing again. Not only that, but you realized he was here. 

"Fuck" you sighed because you were hoping to leave before he arrived. You could trow that in the bin.

"Shit!" you hear pierre curse in the living room, he probably saw all the birthday decorations in the living room and in the hall.

He bursts into the bedroom, looking at you. Then he looked at all the packed bags. "Mon coeur... I'm so, so fucking sorry."pierre slowly walked up to you, he tried to grab your hand, but you pulled it away.

"Don't 'Mon coeur' me. I'm done. I'm really done, this was the last straw. You say, as your voice cracks, and you started tearing up. Your tears now streaming down your face.

"You always put me last, you go hangout with your friends and your girl best friend for the whole week but when you hang out with me, it's not even for 5 minutes.

You wiped your tears. "I was hoping you'd change, but I was wrong. You forgot your own girlfriend's birthday." you scoffed, grabbing your bags and heading out.

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PIERRE POV : 

fuck, it's all my fault, all my fucking fault. She was so right about me putting her last, and everyone else. She was right that we didn't even talk for 5 minutes anymore.

I didn't know what to say, I tried to stop her, which was absolutely stupid because she had every right to leave, I watched the love of my life leave and it was all my fault.

"FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK!!" I screamed out, punching the wall multiple times, how could I be so fucking stupid? How? She did everything for me, she left her damn family for me and moved across the country for me.

I grabbed my phone and dialed her number, hoping she'd pick up, so we could talk this out. I know that sounds shitty, but I can't live without her. She is the light of my life.

"fuck..." it goes to voicemail, her beautiful voice telling to steak after the peep, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

"I'm so sorry, y/n" looking at the picture of us, by the bedside. The picture was taken on our 1-year anniversary. Her sitting on my lap while all our friends and family sat around us in the restaurant.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

It was now the next day, zero sleep, I cried all night, hoping she had come back, or she had forgotten something, but I got nothing. I tried to call her several times yesterday and in the night but no response.

Not a call. Not a text, nothing. She didn't post on her socials, where she would always post something going on in her life. Not even her family or friends posted something.

I called and texted, her coworkers, her friends, her best friend, her family. Everyone she knows, but no one heard from her. Not even her best friend.

I've tried every place. Our favorite place. The place where we first met. Her favorite restaurant, but she's gone. She really is. 

She must have really meant it when she said this was the last straw, I was immature, and now I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. Ever.

I gave up searching for her, I walked back into our shared apartment. Laying on our bed. Looking at photos of her on my phone, crying as I realize I lost her forever.

My phone pinged, and I looked up and saw a message from y/n. Instantly, I clicked on the message. I read it through and fell how my heart is breaking. I started crying again, while reading the message again and again.

"Stop looking for me. Let me go. It's over." that’s all it read. And it left my heart broken.

[nicovarrone]

💗

[fuzzylichu]

Hey!! Your blog says taking requests for any f1 driver and I’m not sure if that includes the 2023 grid but if so could I please request 1 and 10 from your prompt list with Logan Sargeant? Maybe like a “morning after” type thing?

If you don’t write for Logan feel free to choose someone else! + ofc change this however to your liking

Lots of love 💋

Sunshine

Pierre Gasly x reader

Hi tysm for the request :`D

I'm sorry it took so long

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Barely awake, you saw a figure. You couldn't tell who it was but he was at first but then saw the brown messy hair, realising it's your best friend Pierre. He was shirtless and you were for sure bare naked under the covers.

Did you two fuck?

Holy crap. You two definitely fucked. You tried to remember what happened last night but all you remember are little flashes in your head. Last thing you could remember, it was Pierre's birthday party. You two were taking shots with Charles and Yuki. Next thing you remember were flashes of when you two did it.

While you were figuring it out, he tossed and turned around. "Y/n?" He groaned in confusion. "good morning" he said as he rubbed his face.

"did we fuck?" You asked. "Probably" he answered calmly. You got up and sat on the bed. You could see yourself in the giant mirror hung on the wall; your hair was a mess and your neck was covered in hickeys and bites. "You really messed me up haven't you?" You laughed. "You look so fucking good right now" he blurted out. You raiseed your eyebrows at him as you turned red. "Thanks"

"I'm going to go make breakfast" he got up and put his shorts back on. "Pancakes sounds good for you?"

"mhm" you got up to find your clothes, which was just gone. Nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to borrow one of Pierre's. going into Pierre's closet, you were overwhelmed with clothes. Then one of them caught your eye. It was his blue alpha tauri sweater; you quickly put in on and head downstairs. You saw him in the kitchen and sneaked up on him. "Holy shit you scared me!" He jumped. "Smells really good, is it ready yet?"

"should be done by now"

You brought the plates to the table and sat down. As he also sat down he look at the sweater, "wait is that my sweater?"

"mhm" you hummed while eating the pancakes. He laughed at you as you devoured the pancakes. "You look so good in my sweater you're just.. so gorgeous." You could feel the butterflies in your stomach start going crazy. "Don't stare at me like that, " he chuckled.

"maybe we should fuck again, this time I'll make sure you remember."

[fwon1]

I can't believe gasly starts p3 and dns at lap 19. This could have been a huge race for him. Devastating.

[makeagif]

More of Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly during the F1 Las Vegas Grand Prix.