#gasly

[existence-is-overrated]

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

[andreine03]

Now this 🤌🏻

[81buttons]

When you’re Franco-Argentine and you don’t know whether to celebrate or cry after today’s race 🇫🇷🇦🇷🥲

[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 ❤️

[lizlovesmedia]

PIERRE GASLY after quali | us gp '24

[joderpierre]

put me a chokehold respectfully

[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

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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.

[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."

[81buttons]

Proud of my boys; it was a surprise, but the best things are always the unexpected ones. It warms my heart to see them together and so happy 🥹

A made in France double podium 🇫🇷😭

[racinginchid3nt]

Happier Than Ever | Part One

Y/N x Pierre Gasly, Y/N Best Friend x Lance Stroll

Whirlwind romances with professional athletes certainly have their perks, or do they?

Inspired by Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish

Warnings: mentions of spa history

Previous | Next

Masterlist

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You had been an F1 fan for as long as you could remember. Growing up nearly every weekend had been dedicated to free practice, qualifying, and Grand Prix. Of course when you grow up in Spain, home of the great Fernando Alonso, it was hard to not watch. You had vivid memories of watching him win the drivers championship twice when you were in primary school. And after him came Carlos Sainz, now one of the Ferrari golden boys.

So when you got the chance to attend the Spanish Grand Prix for work last year, you had of course agreed. The tech company you worked for had partnerships in lots of sports, and fancy corporate tickets came with them. You knew going in that you might get to meet a driver or two, but you certainly didn’t expect what happened. A flirty conversation and the exchange of contact information that turned into a whirlwind romance with a certain French driver that changed your life in the blink of an eye.

It took only four months before he asked if you would stop working. You could move in with him, spending the year flying around the world to beautiful destinations. He would support you financially of course, aware you would need spending money. It had taken some convincing, having been working for nearly a decade. But when he wanted to he could be incredibly persuasive. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity he said.

And while you worried about the chance of everything crashing and burning, you hoped the experience would still be worth it. Plus, what if it all worked out? What a story to tell your future kids.

The thing with relationships like this though, was as quickly as they could come together, they could fall apart. Tensions ran high between the both of you, traveling wearing on you and constantly competing on him. The season had been rough for him, Alpine so different to Alpha Tauri.

That was how you found yourselves arguing in a hotel room in Hungary. A double DNF for Alpine meant missing important constructors championship points, but also meant that the gap between Pierre and Esteban was closer than either would like.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Pierre! Obviously I’m not happy you DNFed!”

“Noooo of course notttt. Because that would mean you would need to care!” He yelled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No you are! I don’t understand how you can’t admit that you’re wrong!”

“Because I’m not fucking in the wrong Pierre! I congratulated Charles. He raced well.”

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion with you. You’re so fucking obtuse sometimes.” He replied. Walking to the door he slammed it as he left.

Falling into the bed you wondered how this had become your routine. How the sweet man you fell in love with over video calls and what’s app messages could get so angry about such stupid things. It was just the adrenaline, you told yourself. He would be back in the morning, a bouquet of flowers and breakfast in his hands, apologizing profusely.

And when you woke the next morning you found that you were right.

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You had been raised to expect the royal treatment from your boyfriends. Your father made sure of that before he passed.

That was how you found yourself calling your best friend a few days later, asking her to come to the Belgian GP, Pierre’s treat. You knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the paddock passes. Formula One had been one of things the two of you bonded over in primary school. And as you grew up and went of to university together, spending your Sunday mornings hungover on the couch in your crappy student accommodations while you watched the races had become your routine.

It was her first time attending a race in person, and you were determined to make it the best possible experience. You brought her along to every day of the race weekend.

Sunday had come around quickly, and the excitement battled against the dread within you. It was raining, the track slick. Spa was notorious for rain, but when combined with the high speed turns and hills it made for an unsafe situation. Pierre had been silent that morning as he got around for the race.

You weren’t sure how to comfort him. How could you when you would never understand the pain that racing her year after year brought? He turned in on himself, seeking out the privacy of his drivers room to methodically follow his pre race routine. Giving him that privacy, you spent the morning with Y/N Best Friend. When the race started, you sent up a silent prayer that everything would be okay.

That was how you found yourself having a panic attack in the Alpine garage after the crash between Carlos and Oscar. As you hyperventilated into your best friends arms, she dragged you away from the garage and back to the nearly empty energy suite. You listened to the race commentary from the bathroom, having locked yourself in and unable to watch.

When the checkered flag flew and the race was declared finished, you took the first full breathe you had all day. He had made it. He was okay. Oscar and Carlos were okay. Charles was okay. Yuki was okay. Everyone was fine. Pulling yourself together and cleaning off your smeared mascara, you made your way out to Y/N Best Friend. She sat patiently on one of the couches, watching the podium on the nearby tv screen.

A text came through from Pierre, telling you that there would be extra media today and that he would meet you back at the hotel. Tonight marked the start of the summer break. As the two of you headed out to the car, you talked your best friend through the nights plans. A bunch of the drivers were going to a club in the city, the night to be filled with drinking and dancing.

The boys so rarely got to let loose during the season, so you knew tonight would be a fun one. And you also knew that Y/N Best Friend could use to let loose as well. You had teased her about the possibility of getting a good hookup in during the weekend. The drivers were all in incredible shape, so went the life of a professional athlete, and you knew she had been single for that past year since her and her ex broke up when he left Spain for a job opportunity after uni ended. Having left her alone these past few months, you knew your introverted best friend had rarely been out, and certainly hadn’t meant anyone.

As you looked back on that trip a little over a month later, on the events that came out of that night, you wondered how things could turn to shit so quickly.

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A/N: This first part is a short one. The story is a spin off to my other story, Id Probably Still Adore You. You do not need to read that one first for this one to make sense, but certain topics will be addressed in more depth in that one.

I’m not currently sure how frequently updates on this one will come out, as that one remains my primary piece right now.

[makeagif]

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

[martaaairwin1994-blog]

My other fav dúo ❤️‍🩹