#piarles drabble

[pinkierre]

3x piarles drabbles - kitchen drama - late night healing - piano shenanigans

i'm on doctors orders to not do anything i feel like i HAVE to, but i felt like writing so i rode the high for half an hour and came out with three piarles drabbles (i didn't want to commit to a big thing), written based on this prompt list, and written for three of my beloveds who've helped me a lot these past two weeks <3 -

kitchen drama for @duquesademiel

“A funny story actually…” Charles murmurs as he’s staring at a wide eyed Pierre. Charles can admit to himself that, you know, maybe he fucked up a little. Especially since the flour isn’t just on him, it’s everywhere. None of the kitchen counters have been spared, nor any cabinets or even the sink. The floor is also littered with white powder. The only part of the kitchen that seemingly has been spared is the ceiling. 

“You have an explanation for why you made our kitchen explode?” Pierre seems to finally have gotten over his shock, his face morphing into amusement over anything. 

“Hey! Nothing actually broke. Except my self-asteem…” Charles objects as he looks down at the mess he’s made. Pierre is never going to let him live this down. He feels Pierre stepping into his personal space, to hands coming up to wipe the flour away from his eyes. 

“What did you even want to accomplish?” Pierre asks, his tone teasing but soft. His hands move to Charles’ shoulders, brushing off as much of the flour as he can. 

“I was going to bake you cookies, to say thank you for always being there for me.” Charles says, his tone indicating he clearly feels sorry for himself. In response, Pierre presses a soft kiss to his lips, before answering, “Buy them next time, yeah?” 

- late night healing for @yukierres

“Did you drink anything today?” Charles asks as he watches the shape of his boyfriend on the couch, illuminated only by the lights from the tv. It’s otherwise dark in their apartment. Charles had just woken up at 3am, the other side of the bed cold. 

They might’ve had a fight, but Charles didn’t think Pierre would actually stay out here instead of coming to sleep in their bed. 

Pierre’s face is almost entirely hidden by his hoodie, the only indication that he heard Charles is that there was some movement. He heads to the kitchen, filling up a glass with water before moving back into the living room. He sets the glass down on the coffee table and sits down in between the table and the couch, silently glancing at the other man. 

An arms escapes the bundle of clothes and blankets and grabs onto the glass, Pierre gulping it down in one go. He puts down the glass before the arm makes grabby hands at Charles. 

Hesitantly, Charles rises from the floor and lies down in front of Pierre, his arm wrapping around him and holding him by the waist. 

“Even when we’re fighting, it’s still you and me against the world, okay?” Charles whispers and Pierre’s arm tightens in response. They will be okay. 

- piano shenanigans for @vicsy

“Fine, I’ll play along.” Pierre says as he sits down next to Charles on the little piano bench that was clearly not meant to house two grown men. His left foot comes out to the side to support himself in not falling off the seat. His right side is pressed against Charles, wondering how he could still even play the piano with their shoulders and elbows squished together, but Charles doesn’t seem to care, so neither does Pierre. 

“Alright, all you have to do,” Charles starts as Pierre is very much distracted by the sudden movement of Charles’ hand right in front of his face. The stretched out digits are clearly showing of the veins in his hands and it’s driving Pierre crazy. “Is to put your left hand -give me your hand, damnit- and put it on these two keys.” Charles positions Pierre’s pinky and ring finger on the keys he wants them on. “Every when I count, you put them on the fourth and eight count. Got it? So every four beats.” 

“Yeah. I got it.” Pierre doesn’t mention his mind running a 100 miles a minute, though. 

“Alright, and 1 2 3 4.” Charles starts to count and as he gets to the fourth beat, Pierre ungracefully pushes on the keys. The horrid sound quickly gets drawn out by the beauty of what Charles is producing on the other side of the piano. Both of his hands are flowing across the keys. When Pierre loses his concentration, he feels Charles’ heel dig into his foot, followed by a stern “Pierre”. 

Eventually, Pierre loses himself into the rhythm and he can keep it going while he can focus on the cute little expressions that adorn Charles’ face. 

Yeah, he’ll play along. 

[alexanderossis]

Ooo! I would love you to write number 47 for Pierre/Charles please! Could it please be with Charles asking it to Pierre? 🥰🙈

I love your writing!!!

YEAH this tracks.

47: "Have you eaten today?" "Am I going to get in trouble if I say no?"

TW: Mentions of disordered eating

Charles eyes Pierre carefully over the lip of his coffee cup. His boyfriend is fiddling with something on his phone, tongue out in focus, hair damp from the recent shower.

Charles weighs what he wants to say in his head. Fighting with Pierre... it sucks. He loves Pierre so much, it physically pains him to see Pierre upset or angry. But he also loves him too much to not say what comes out of his mouth next.

"Have you eaten today?"

The phone in Pierre's hand clatters to the table. Charles bites his lip.

"Am I going to get in trouble if I say no?"

Charles sighs. Pierre runs a hand through his hair. It's a never-ending battle. Charles reaching out, Pierre snapping at him, Charles pulling away, Pierre giving in. A week goes by. It starts again. But Charles doesn't want this to be like the other times.

"It's not 'getting in trouble'," Charles tries to explain.

He feels Pierre recoiling into his shell, shame blanketing him. But it's not his fault, Charles wants to tell him. But-

"I have a meeting," Pierre snaps, picking up his phone and retreating to their second bedroom turned office.

Charles buries his face in his hands. He's done with having this fight every single time.

Eventually, he follows the direction Pierre went, only to find his boyfriend slumped in the chair, chest heaving as he sobs.

"Pierre?" Charles hurries to his side, one arm wrapping around Pierre's shoulders.

Pierre tucks his head under Charles' chin and sniffs.

"What's going on, calamar?" Charles presses his lips into Pierre's hair.

"I'm- I'm so-" Pierre chokes on a sob.

"Hey," Charles tilts Pierre's head up slightly to meet his eyes, "let's breathe first, oui?"

Pierre doesn't meet his eyes, but Charles continues to hold him, urging Pierre to breathe.

"Cha," Pierre starts, taking another deep breath. "I'm not trying to be difficult."

"I know."

"No, it's-" Pierre shifts in his seat so he's looking up at Charles. "I can't- It's like-"

He sighs, not being able to find the words.

"P," Charles says quietly, "I'm not upset with you."

"You're not?"

"No!" Charles gives him a small smile, "I just want you to be okay."

Pierre scrubs a hand across his face and says nothing.

"Are you okay, Pierre?"

Pierre looks up to meet Charles' gaze, eyes impossibly blue. He doesn't want to say it. But it physically aches, this pain, the voices in his head, the hate... If it was anyone else, he wouldn't dare. He couldn't. But it's Charles. So he does.

"No."

Charles bites his lip and nods. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," Charles nods, "So we'll find a way to get you some help."

"We?"

Charles raises an eyebrow, "Uh, yes?"

Pierre shakes his head, thinking back to the last time he tried to get help for this, the neverending loneliness of healing yourself. "You don't have to do this with me. It's hard."

"So?" Charles shakes his shoulders gently, "that's never stopped us before."

Pierre opens his mouth to argue, but the look on Charles' face is more resolute than he's ever seen him look before.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Yeah this is pretty OOC, sorry! I'm still getting back into writing these guys again. Hope it's what you were looking for at least :)

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Piarles drabble

Charles hides the letters from Kathy - tucked underneath his textbooks and that box that is full of the tiny notebooks they carry around in their pockets. She says that she doesn’t mind it, but Charles knows that if the roles were reversed - if he had been the one to get one of those typewritten letters from some general - he wouldn’t want to see her read letters from her very alive future mate. 

He knows that it would break his heart and so he hides them underneath the textbooks and the box of tiny notebooks that are smeared in blood and morphing and neat scrawled notes of illness and disease and the last words of dying alphas. Those things hide the smell attached to the letters. 

Kathy knows they’re there, but she never says anything and they’re on opposite shifts in the hospital so she’s not in the room when Charles is heading to sleep, so she never sees the way Charles takes them out one by one to read the words scrawled there. 

Words that carry him through endless shifts. Words that carry him through nights in which he aches for Pierre. 

The one that arrived this week is older than the one that arrived two weeks before and it smells terrible. Like mud and rot and decay, but underneath it - if Charles holds it right to his nose - he can smell Pierre. Cedar and thyme and home. 

There is no poetry in this one and Charles knows that the dismal conditions Pierre writes about have improved because the letter dated after this has a much more cheery tone, but it still makes him ache to read Pierre write how desperately he wants to come home - how desperately he wishes to hold Charles tightly in the cottage that Charles’ papa built. 

It’s a common thing they hold onto. 

Charles pinned the drawing that Pierre had sent him his first month - the one he did from memory of the cottage against the coastline - above his bed. It’s a frequent feature in their letters because it’s the thing they hold onto. 

Pierre will come home. Pierre will come home and they will mate and they will live in the cottage by the seaside and there will be no war - no more war.

Kathy waves at Charles as they pass each other in the hall. Charles headed for their room, Kathy headed into her shift. She can’t see the letter tucked underneath Charles’ arm, but he feels a bit like a criminal knowing that it’s there - that he’s hiding it from her. 

But, this one was stark white. White and clean and there is no scent on it and Charles worries.

He worries because there’s a cottage that he cannot live in alone.

As soon as he’s shoved inside his room, he’s ripping it open, praying to a god that only Pierre believes in anymore that Pierre is not writing from a hospital 80 miles north of here where it’s been postmarked. 

Charles’ hands shake when he pulls the thin paper free - his eyes darting over the steady handwriting: R&R for ten days. Arrive middle of April. Using Alex’s place.

Middle of April. 

Middle of April.

Pierre is coming in four days and Charles squeezes his eyes shut so that his tears don’t spill down his cheeks. He can last four more days.

[singsweetmelodies]

Hello Katie 👋🏼👋🏼 :D

For the 50 romance prompts ask meme, I'll like to request for 44: soulmate AU: timers <3

but if possible... with a twist...? (you don't have to include a twist if it's too difficult to work it in!)

The twist being, for whatever reason, their countdown timers for each of them to the time they meet their soulmates doesn't match, so they think "we're not each other's soulmates. that's cool. (no it's not)" but it turns out that they're each other soulmates anyways. or they choose to be with each other in spite of not being each other's soulmates. idk. *nervous laughter*

hiiii charlotte 🥰 first off, i am SO sorry for the incredible delay with this answer!! i saw this prompt and i absolutely LOVED IT (and the twist!! 🙏 *chef's kiss*) but unfortunately i got struck with a horrible case of writer's block/work deadlines, and just couldn't get to it at all.

until yesterday: i decided to just open my inbox and see what came to me. no thinking, just following the vibe of a prompt and writing. and uh. this happened... not only did it get ridiculously long (oops?) but it also somehow became a mini "investigate montreal" fic?? so in that vein, i'm tagging @1016week and submitting a belated entry for Day 6 "Montreal"... ❤️

i love this one. hope you love it too!! 👀⌚

~

Charles' soulmate timer stops when he is seven years old, and he meets the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

He's been vibrating with excitement all weekend - not just because it's a karting cup, but because his soulmate timer has been ticking down to this day for months now. Well, not just months, not really. It's actually been his whole life, but Charles doesn't remember all of that. He only remembers the past few months, when the little numbers had been getting smaller and smaller, until there were only ten days left and Charles gasped when he realised that the day would fall on the same day as the Bridgestone Cup.

"Of course the girl I marry is going to like racing, too," he'd told Maman and Papa, confidingly. Not a lot about soulmates made much sense to him, but this did.

His Maman had tried to smile, and Charles had hugged her tight to let her know it was going to be okay. He would find his soulmate, and then everyone would be smiling, because that's what people do when you meet your soulmate.

(Later that night, when Charles had been too excited to sleep and he'd gone to the bathroom quickly, Charles had heard his parents having an argument in their room. The door was closed, so their voices were muffled, but Charles could still make out his Maman saying "I just don't think it's a good sign, to meet your soulmate so young!" But Papa had countered, "Many people do, and they have beautiful stories. You have to trust that our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow." And then there had been an icky noise, like kissing, and Charles had flushed the loo quickly and ran back to his room.)

Now, with the beautiful blue eyed boy standing in front of him, Charles thinks of Papa's words again. Our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow.

Charles thought it would be a girl who really liked karting, but this is even better. This is a boy who wins at karting, because he's holding a trophy in both hands and grinning like he couldn't be happier.

Of course Charles' perfect match would be someone who wins at karting. It's only right, because Charles also wins at karting.

Charles clears his throat. "Hi," he says shyly, and the blue-eyed boy jumps.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he says apologetically, and then he laughs. He has a nice laugh, Charles thinks - like he knows how to have fun. "You are a bit short," the blue-eyed boy adds, and hey.

"Hey," Charles protests. "I'm tall for my age. I'm seven."

"Well, I'm nine," the blue-eyed boy says, like that's the most impressive age in the world.

It is a bit impressive, but not very, because Lorenzo is much older than that. Still, it is a little scary - Charles is only seven. What if this blue-eyed boy doesn't like him because he's only seven? Older kids can be mean like that.

No, he is your perfect match, Charles reminds himself. This blue-eyed boy won't be mean to him, because that's not how perfect matches work.

Charles takes a deep breath, then he sticks out his hand. "I'm Charles," he says.

The blue-eyed boy takes his hand, and it feels... weird. A little bit like when you get shocked by static electricity.

Charles giggles, unable to stop himself, and the blue-eyed boy smiles, as though he likes that.

"Hello, Charles. I'm Pierre," he says, squeezing Charles' hand. His eyes widen a moment later. "Oh! You've met your soulmate?!"

Charles doesn't understand what he means. "Well, yeah," he says. "It's y-"

And then he notices it.

Pierre's soulmate timer, right there on his wrist, right above where Charles is gripping his hand - it's still ticking.

Now, Charles doesn't know a lot about soulmates yet, but he knows that that's not good. Not good at all.

"I, um," Charles stammers, and then he does the one thing Maman and Papa said you should never do to your soulmate. Charles lies.

"I met so many new people today. I don't remember who it was."

Pierre's face falls. "Oh," he says, and he sounds unbearably sad for Charles. "But..." He chews his lip, shaking his head with a deep frown.

Then, mid-shake, Pierre's expression changes to one of determination. "I will help you find them," he says, with the kind of confidence Charles can only dream of when he's not on the racetrack.

He tugs on Charles' hand - which he still hasn't let go of - and Charles is helpless to do anything but follow.

~

They don't find Charles' soulmate anywhere, of course, and then Charles has to go win his race - but Pierre makes him promise that they will find each other at the next French karting event, and Charles will tell him all about his soulmate.

Charles promises, even though the idea makes his stomach feel all funny. I shouldn't be lying to my soulmate, he thinks, guiltily.

But Pierre's soulmate timer didn't stop ticking, and... that's not how soulmates are supposed to work.

The moment he's in the car with his father after the race, heading back home, Charles asks him about it.

Papa is quiet for a long moment, then: "Are you sure there wasn't someone behind Pierre, Charles?" he asks, in his careful, kind way. "Someone who's timer stopped at the same time as yours?"

Charles thinks about it for a moment, but even the idea of that feels - wrong, somehow. Like going into a corner and knowing you braked too hard, and you're going to flip the kart.

He shakes his head decisively. "No," he says. "It's Pierre."

He hears rather than sees his father blow out a soft sigh. Charles catches his eye in the rearview mirror, feeling confused and a little shaky inside.

When Papa sighs like that, it's never good news - it's usually something about sponsorship, which is a word Charles is already coming to dread.

It doesn't make sense how this could be about sponsorship, though. It probably isn't.

Charles waits for his father to gather his thoughts, like he needs to do sometimes to make sure he says exactly what he means. (It's something Maman keeps telling him he should try doing as well, but he's not so good at that yet.)

"You know how even the greatest racing drivers make mistakes sometimes?" Papa asks.

Charles frowns, but he nods. "Yes?"

"Sometimes the universe is like that, too. Sometimes the universe makes a mistake, and stops the timers too soon," Papa explains.

Charles frowns. He hasn't heard about that before, but he guesses it makes sense. It's true what Papa said - not even Senna was a perfect driver who never made mistakes. It makes sense that the universe is the same.

"But this doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate, okay, Charles?" Papa says before Charles can spend too much time thinking about the whole thing. His voice is firmer than Charles was expecting, and he reaches up to tilt the rearview mirror to see Charles better.

"It doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate," he repeats, like he doesn't want Charles to ever doubt that. "It just means it's going to be a little harder to find them."

Charles frowns, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. Isn't the whole point of soulmate timers to make it easier to find your perfect match?

It's just his luck that his soulmate timer doesn't work properly.

"I understand," Charles says, though, because he can tell it's important to his father.

Papa nods, but he keeps watching Charles in the rearview mirror for the rest of the drive, like he sometimes does after a race where Charles crashed the kart badly and he needs to keep making sure that Charles is fine.

Of course Charles is fine. He doesn't think this is comparable to a bad race at all! It's a little annoying, yes, but it's not that bad. It's just a bit of extra work, isn't it?

Charles shrugs his shoulders, glancing quickly down at the stopped soulmate timer at his wrist.

Whatever. Racing is more important than soulmates, anyway.

~

Almost twenty years later, Charles still says that to himself almost every day, even if he doesn't believe it with nearly the same careless seven-year-old confidence anymore: racing is more important than soulmates.

It is, because it has to be.

The thing is this: his father's explanation to Charles' seven-year-old self had been true - if a little oversimplified, and painted with an overt layer of kindness.

The truth Charles knows now is that there are two reasons, two categories, for people whose timers stop when the other person's keeps running.

One is, like Papa had said all those years ago, a simple case of mistaken timing - cases where the universe or fate or whatever controls it all stopped one person's timer a little too soon, or the other's a little too late.

It's harder to find each other in those cases, but it's still quite possible.

And then there's the second category. The unrequiteds. People whose timers stopped at the right time - when they met the person who would be their perfect match - except that they are not that person's perfect match in return. It only goes one way.

It's rare, but it happens sometimes. No system is perfect, after all - not even a system of soulmates.

For years and years, Charles tried to convince himself that he fell into the first category. His soulmate timer simply stopped too early, by some cosmic accident - but it's okay, Charles insists to everyone who asks and to himself as well, because what it's done is given Charles more time to focus on his racing instead. He's not constantly glancing down at his wrist and wondering when his timer is going to stop ticking - he can just get on with the racing.

He'll find his soulmate eventually, but on his own terms. There's nothing bad about that, surely.

Charles believes that. Really he does.

Except.

Except, if it's true and Charles falls into the first category - the mistaken timing category - then it would mean Pierre isn't his soulmate.

Pierre, who kept the promise he'd made to a seven-year-old who wasn't even his soulmate (because, yes, he had found Charles at the very next French karting cup, and he'd asked to meet Charles' soulmate - and when Charles had to admit that he still hadn't found them, Pierre had hugged him and told him not to give up and that he would find his soulmate someday. Pierre had held Charles' hand and explained that his parents almost didn't find each other, but they did. So it might take Charles some time, but that was okay, because it had taken Pierre's parents some time too, but now they were happier than ever. He'd been so convincing, firm but kind and absolutely sure of himself, and he'd made Charles believe it. He also made Charles smile, genuinely and truly, when he promised he'd stick by Charles' side no matter what anyone else said or whispered about his stopped soulmate timer.)

Pierre, who kept that promise about sticking with Charles, too. Pierre who never stopped being kind, and loyal, and the best friend Charles could ask for, whether he was seven or thirteen or nineteen or twenty-six.

Honestly, how was Charles supposed to not fall hopelessly in love with him?

He tried to deny it. For years and years, Charles tried to deny it - I will find my soulmate someday and it will all make sense, he'd tried to convince himself - but the thing was, what made more sense than Pierre being his soulmate?

It was roundabout the time of Pierre's first win (when Charles was standing under the podium in Monza with an aching back but a heart soaring with joy for his best friend despite the disaster of his own race) that Charles resigned himself to the truth: Pierre is his soulmate.

He has to be. Isn't a soulmate meant to be your perfect match; the person who understands you better than anyone and makes you happier than any other person in the world?

There's nobody else who could make Charles as happy as Pierre does. Nobody, nobody. There's no point in even trying to deny it anymore.

Pierre is his soulmate. But he is not Pierre's.

And that's okay. It's okay.

It has to be.

~

It isn't okay, not really, but that's true of a lot of things in Charles' life, and he's learned how to deal with them. He can deal with this, too.

On the whole, Charles thinks he does a pretty good job of dealing with it. He gets to be Pierre's best friend, after all - isn't that just a different kind of soulmate? True, Charles might want more, but it isn't like he has nothing. He has Pierre, and he will have Pierre for the rest of their lives.

Not in the way he wants, but - at least he will have Pierre.

The one thing he tries never to think about is Pierre's actual soulmate. Because Pierre has one, he knows, and he will meet them at some point.

Charles doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to look at some soulmate of Pierre's, and smile at her, and not be hopelessly, heartbreakingly jealous.

(He will do it, though. He will learn to smile at Pierre's soulmate - for Pierre's sake. He'll do it for Pierre.)

But that's a bridge he will cross when they get there. He doesn't have to worry about it yet (or at least, that's what Charles keeps telling himself even as the months tick by, and he knows there aren't year figures left on Pierre's soulmate timer anymore. Just months now, and then... weeks.)

Charles isn't thinking about it. He's put it out of his mind completely - which is easy enough to do, thankfully, given everything that's been happening on-track this season.

That's probably why he accepts Pierre's invitation to dinner in Montreal without thinking twice about it. (Even if he had realised, though, Charles doesn't think he would have been able to say no, either. He would give Pierre everything, if he only asked.)

So they go to dinner in Montreal, and it's perfect, and wonderful, and laughter-filled, and all in all exactly what Charles needed to distract himself from the fact that he has yet another engine penalty, and the sinking feeling that the championship is beginning to slip out of his reach.

Pierre seems to realise it, because he's in even finer form than usual - teasing Charles and tickling his ribs playfully and making him laugh at every possible opportunity.

Even on the drive back to the hotel: they stop at a red light, and Pierre steals Charles' cap, and Charles is giggling and filming it while Pierre is giggling back, and he's pretty sure neither of them are thinking about it at all, until-

Until Pierre's face changes from laughter to something almost ashen. "Charles," he says, and for all the years Charles has known him, he's never once heard Pierre's voice like that. "My soulmate timer just stopped."

For a few seconds, the words don't even register in Charles' mind.

Then they do, and Charles can feel his heart drop. "What?" he breathes.

His hands shake, and he doesn't even register the fact that the light has gone green as he glances all around them, craning his neck to see if there's anyone behind the white Ferrari, or around to the side.

Just a few minutes ago, their car had been surrounded by fans on all sides, all jostling to try and get pictures of them. But now, somehow, they're all alone in the Montreal night.

(The irony of it all is not lost on him - is this how Pierre felt all those years ago, when he was trying to look for Charles' soulmate at a karting cup, but not finding anybody it could be?)

"Are you sure it stopped just now? And not earlier?" Charles asks, willing his voice not to shake.

"Yeah," Pierre whispers. He sounds... devastated.

"But," Charles says, and then he has to take a deep breath. "But there's no-one else here, Pierrot."

"I know," Pierre says, somehow even softer.

Charles' fingers clench reflexively around the steering wheel, and he's moving in blank autopilot as he puts the car into gear and starts driving forward again.

He doesn't even realise he's shaking his head until Pierre says softly, "Charles." There's something wounded about it.

Charles stops shaking his head and slams on the brakes instead, jerking the car into something he hopes is a parking space at the side of the road.

"I don't understand," he says, far more calmly than he feels. "You can't - I can't be your soulmate."

Okay, maybe he's not so calm after all. But he doesn't think... he doesn't think anyone would be calm, in this situation.

Pierre makes a sound that could almost be a laugh, except that it sounds too strangled. "Do you know," he says, "that I have spent half my life wondering if the soulmate system got something wrong in my case? Because if you're not my soulmate, then who is? Who could possibly..."

Pierre does laugh this time, shaking his head. "You know, I asked to go out with you tonight for a reason. I knew - I knew it would happen tonight, so I needed to..." He swallows. "I needed to see you, one last time. Before I wouldn't be allowed to love you anymore."

It jolts through Charles then, what Pierre is trying to say. "Pierre," he breathes, and now it's his turn to say his best friend's name in a way he doesn't think he's ever said it before.

But Pierre's not finished yet. "I thought I could have one last night with you," he says. "One last night, before I had to say goodbye to my feelings, and try to love someone else."

My feelings. Try to love someone else.

Charles Leclerc is a lot of things, but an idiot is not one of them. He knows what Pierre is saying. He's...

Pierre loves him too. All along, Pierre has loved him too.

Only, he never had the option of thinking we're soulmates, Charles realised, and his heart twists in his chest.

Because Charles, for all that he accepted his soulbond toward Pierre was unrequited - at least he'd had the option of them being soulmates. Yes, it was in a twisted way, but at least he'd had that.

Pierre didn't. And he still fell in love with Charles.

The thought hits him like a shell-shock, and it's enough that Charles can only sit there for a moment, staring blankly, as Pierre continues talking beside him.

"I meant for tonight to just be a quick dinner together, something fun but normal for us," Pierre is saying, wringing his hands. "But I lost track of time. I always lose time when I'm talking to you, Charlito, I could talk to you forever - but the point is, I forgot to tell you I need to go back. I forgot that I was meant to meet my fucking soulmate tonight, because I was spending time with you, and - "

He takes a deep breath, and then he laughs again, leaning forward to drop his head into his hands. "I felt it happen, you know? I knew exactly when my soulmate timer stopped, because I could feel it, and it's - it was when I put that fucking cap on my head, Charles."

The cap that he's still wearing. Charles' 16 Ferrari cap.

Charles' hands shake as he reaches out to touch it, just the brim. "Your soulmate timer stopped when you put my cap on," he says, because a part of him still can't believe that this is real, that he's not living in some kind of heartbreakingly wonderful dream.

Pierre straightens up so fast that Charles is left with his fingers dangling awkwardly in mid-air. "Yes," he says, suddenly looking wild, "but this doesn't have to change anything, Charlito, I promise. I will still help you find your soulmate, and I will - I'll learn how to live with an unrequited bond, it's -"

"No!" Charles interrupts, half-throwing himself across the car to catch hold of Pierre's hands. "No, no, no, no. No more unrequited bonds, Pierrot."

Pierre starts to shake his head, but then he stops in the middle of the movement. "What do you mean," he asks, very carefully, "no more?"

And suddenly, Charles feels giddy, of all things. "I mean, your timer didn't stop when mine did. So for years, I have thought that we can't be soulmates, or at least that you couldn't be my soulmate. But now your timer stopped when you put on my cap, so -"

"Stop, stop, stop," Pierre says, squeezing Charles' hands tightly. "What do you mean, my timer didn't stop when yours did?"

"Oh," Charles says, and then he winces, the weight of the only real lie he's ever told his best friend (the only real lie he's ever told his soulmate) settling onto his shoulders with uncomfortable heaviness. "Um. Well. Do you remember when we met, and you thought I already met my soulmate?"

"No," Pierre breathes, but it's not the kind of no that says "no I don't remember." This no is more like "no way."

"Yeah," Charles says, and he can't help but look down at his own wrist, where the soulmate timer has been stopped for years and years. "My timer stopped the moment I met you, Pierrot."

"You..."

Pierre doesn't look like he knows how to finish that sentence, but Charles understands him anyway. "How was I supposed to tell you? I was seven, Pierre, and your timer didn't stop. I thought it was a mistake for years."

"But?" Pierre asks, like he can tell there was a but.

Charles beams at him. "But, I realised that there was nobody else who could be my perfect match. So I thought you were my soulmate after all, but it was unrequited."

"Never," Pierre says with a fierceness Charles doesn't expect. "Charles, never. If I knew... if I thought I had even half a chance, I would have been with you anyway."

Charles tries to laugh, but it comes out all breathless. "No you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would," Pierre argues, and his voice is heartbreakingly sincere. "I don't care. I would have chosen you."

Charles hears a punched-out noise, and it takes him a moment to realise it came from him. The next moment, he's unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing awkwardly over to sit on Pierre's lap.

It's not quite comfortable, because for all its luxury, the white Ferrari does not have a lot of leg space - but Charles doesn't think either of them give a single fuck, in this moment.

"I love you," he tells Pierre, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I've always loved you, but I never would have stood between you and your soulmate."

"Funny," Pierre says, his hands coming up to grip Charles' hips, "because that's exactly what stopped me from kissing you senseless."

"Well," Charles says, and if he grinds down just a little on Pierre's lap, he'll swear to everyone who asks that it was accidental. "It doesn't have to stop us anymore."

"Never again," Pierre agrees, tightening his grip on Charles' hips. "Never."

"So kiss me senseless, please," Charles whispers, and then he adds "soulmate," and that's what does it. Pierre surges up and kisses him, wild and desperate and more than a little clumsy, but without question the best kiss Charles has ever had. His own cap digs into his forehead a little, but Charles can't even bring himself to care about that - they owe too much to this cap now, honestly.

Maybe the universe does know what it's doing after all, Charles thinks. Maybe the universe just wanted to write a good story for them. A story that goes like this:

Charles' soulmate timer stopped when he was seven years old, and he met the boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Almost twenty years later, Pierre's soulmate timer stopped in a white Ferrari in Montreal, and Charles finally got to kiss the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen, the man who is his best friend and his soulmate.

The odds of it working out this way have to be... a million to one, probably, or maybe even less.

But then again, what are the odds that two boys who met at a French karting cup and became friends with a shared dream would both make it to Formula 1?

Maybe the answer is just that Pierre and Charles have always liked beating the odds.

~

(50 Romance Prompts Ask Meme) <- not currently taking more prompts, sorry!

[starlightiing]

Here is a masterlist of things for those NOT on AO3.

Mostly everything goes on to AO3 anyway, but sometimes I don't get the drabbles up right away. Some of these are also snippets from memes and such as well.

My AO3, for everything else: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forthediehards/works

All my unlisted fics can be found under the cut, categorized by pairing:

Yukierre:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/751678798735507456/yukierre?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752298898385682433/yukierre-please?source=share

Galex:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/748688139515838464/i-heard-galex-stardew-valley-au?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752277073763139584/with-galex?source=share

Landoscar:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752457171746308097/with-landoscar-d-d?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/748555914328604672/idk-what-cardiophilia-is-really-likefully-i?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/750943980505759744/out-of-context-wip-tagged-by-chilling-seavey?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/751733613852229632/landoscah?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752081406026547200/landoscar-for-the-kissing-thing-absolutely?source=share

Pierresteban:

https://starlightiing.tumblr.com/post/751995224562204672/apparently-im-having-a-morning-thinking-about

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/758534316496207872/not-a-fic-just-a-blurb-pierresteban-and?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/750858095819898880?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752098676365819904/may-i-have-a-random-wip-snippet?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/757087780592664576/can-you-feel-my-heart-beating-pierresteban?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/754375892440137728/car-crash-hearts-pierresteban-12?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/754985068189089792/you-almost-died-pierresteban?source=share

Lestappen:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752098119849787392?source=share

Geochal:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752099245915553792?source=share

Gewis:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/752373764692606976/with-gewis-pretty-please?source=share

Este/Mick/Pierre:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/753549441434353664/i-was-inspired-by-my-own-anger-towards-someone?source=share

Nyck/Pierre:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/753645450593189888/everything-ends-m-pierre-gasly-nyck-de?source=share

Piarles:

https://www.tumblr.com/starlightiing/756116250827079680/sail-away-with-me-piarles-pg10-cl16?source=share

[effervescentdragon]

IN LOVE with your piarles boarding school AU, their dynamic is thee best and the whole concept & writing is perfect!! <33

If you ever wanna write another drabble about this universe...well. I'd be more than happy to read it!!!

this one has a sort of prequel. happy bday @radiocheck this one reminded me of you for some reason? so i just hope you like it ❤️

"Have you ever skipped class, Your Majesty?"

"It's actually Your Royal Highness," Charles says out of habit. He flinches immediately and blushes even faster, and that seems to be enough for Pierre to bend over in a fit of laughter.

"That's what I thought," he remarks after he's calmed down. Charles is still mortified, but Pierre doesn't seem to be laughing at him in a mean way. Lolo always said that Charles is too trusting, but Charles doesn't think he's wrong about Pierre.

"I haven't had the opportunity," Charles manages to finally say. It's enough for Pierre to grin and grab his hand.

"Well, you're about to," Pierre says and starts dragging him down the hall. His hand is warm in Charles'. It feels nice.

"First time for everything, I guess," he mutters, and Pierre's laughter echoes in the empty passage they duck into.

-

"Have you ever smoked a cigarette, Your Majesty?"

"It's Your Royal Highness," Charles says irritably, because he doesn't understand the translation he just did for coursework and it's making him extremely annoyed.

Pierre sits across from him and pulls the notebook towards himself. Charles thinks aboit protesting, but he's already received a warning from the librarian the last time he was here with Pierre, so he decides it's not worth it.

"It should be present here," Pierre says after a moment, pushing the notebook back and showing Charles a line. "It's 'I love you like I live the sea and the stars reflecting in it on a calm midnight'", he says, and his eyes are wonderfully blue when they meet Charles', and his smile is kind and knowing. "Otherwise it's correct."

Charles fiddles with the paper's edge. "Thank you. I've never smoked a cigarette."

Pierre's grin is as familiar as it is treasured by Charles.

"I think you'll think better after a hit of nicotine."

Charles narrows his eyes.

"I think you're a bad influence on me, M. Gasly," he says, but he still grabs Pierre's hand when offered and allows himself to be dragged out of the library.

-

"Have you ever kissed a boy, Your Royal Highness?"

"It's actually..." Charles starts to say, a habit formed by months of questions leading to first times, but he trails off.

They are laying on the roof terrace and the stars above them are almost too bright. Pierre's arm is touching his, and Charles can smell citrus on the air. He doesn't think there's anywhere he'd rather be right now, or ever.

The silence streches, and Charles tries not to let his voice shake as he says "No".

"Do you want to?" Pierre asks after a moment that streches into eternity.

Charles' heart is beating too loud for him to hear himself say "Yes."

When Pierre leans over him and puts his palm on Charles' cheek gently, his eyes shine brighter than the stars.

[1016week]

10 Days Till 1016 Week!

Hello and happy October, fellow Piarlies! ❤️💙 We mods have been getting more and more excited for this event with each day that passes, and we hope that you have too! We can't WAIT to see what creations you all come up with 😍🥳

For those of you who really want to join in the fun but aren't sure if you'll have the time to create something substantial: just a gentle reminder that you can create any medium of content whatsoever, length or size or word count irregardless! The point of this event is to spread the Piarles joy as far as we can, not to tire people out. 💙

So when we say "any kind of content," we really do mean any kind of content. Whatever you have the time and capacity to share with us, we're thrilled to have in the event! ❤️

This could include...

Moodboards (see here and here for some Piarles moodboard inspiration!) 🖼

Playlists (or even just a pretty post telling us why a certain song reminds you of Piarles + one of the themes) 🎶

Your headcanons for how Piarles would act in a certain situation 👀🕺

Drabbles/mini fics/5 sentence fics/bullet point fics ✍️

Preparatory sketches/rough sketches/ work-in-progress drawings 🎨

Gifsets (or even a single GIF of a Piarles moment you love) 🎥

Piarles-themed web weaving (see here and here for inspiration!) 💌

... And anything else you can think of & share!

We are looking to spread the Piarles joy as far as possible. We hope that you'll join us, and we can't wait to get this event kicked off with you all <333 10 days to go: the countdown begins now! ❤️💙

[lovelylotusf1]

Lovely_Lotus Fic Masterlist

My AO3

Last updated on: 27 August 2024

Tumblr links link to posts where I made moodboards for the accompanying fic.

My writing on AO3:

Landoscar

From crashes to kisses - Lando & Oscar have to try ice skating as a marketing challenge. (T)

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Love through the hook - Crochet is Oscar's secret hobby and he sneaks handmade animals into Lando's rooms. (T)

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The Pet Name Challenge - Offended by Charles and Max not believing that Lando can be a good boyfriend, Lando decides Oscar has to be his fake boyfriend for a month. Oscar reluctantly agrees. (T)

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Is it the sun or are you making it hot out here? - Lando and Oscar play beach volleyball while flirting with each other. A lot. (T)

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Sick day (please stay) - Lando is sick, Oscar cares for him. (G)

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Carcar

Open mouth, on my knees (for you) - Oscar asks Carlos for help: to train him out of his gag reflex for Lando (E)

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Cut open your heart - Carlos fucks Oscar and has some violent thoughts about it (E - read the tags!)

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Lestappen

Changing shape, yet remaining the same - Charles is a shapeshifter and has a big crush on Max. Max discovers both things at the same time + Platonic Piarles as the focus of the first third of the fic (T)

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Sunburnt - Charles and Max are on their honeymoon when Charles gets a sunburn on his back. Max can't fuck him so he decides to eat him out instead. (E)

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Sweet Kitten - Max and Charles try out pet play. (E)

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Eterni Rivali - The Pokémon AU following girl!Charles' career as a Pokémon Coordinator. (T)

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Piarles

Flowers on Main - Pierre likes to gift Charles flowers and they decide to have fun confusing the media. (G)

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Just Us - Queerplatonic Piarles (or QPiarles for short) (G)

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Galex

I'm begging you, call me that again - 5+1 times Alex calls George "Georgie" and George is a bit crazy about it. (E)

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A Light in the Dark - George having a rough time at the start of the 2025 season. (M)

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Maxiel

Am I Broken? (my dear, you couldn't be) - Max struggles with being aromantic & Daniel is there to help (T)

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Stuff I did on Tumblr:

Lestappen - Coding Rivals.exe AU

Poem - The Wall

Gax - Bubblegum (College AU drabble)

Landoscar - Waltz to the booming tick of the clock (angsty drabble about dancing together)

[talictries]

welcome to my tumblr page!

yoooooo,,,,

i am mainly an ao3 writer (currently f1 writer but have previously written a lot of skz) and this is just a little page for me to post my art and my drabbles / fic ideas!

ao3: talictriestowrite twt (skz, semi ia) : @talictries

my fics (so far): fathers and sons - long sewis kidfic ongoing thirty-three - angsty daniel mclaren oneshot perpetuity - angsty piarles moden-AU oneshot salvatore - pwp max/oscar post-japan gp oneshot one more - pwp lando/oscar - post qatar sprint oneshot the honey of humanity - highschool galex au ongoing nitwbtm (solar eclipse) - angsty loscar 23' oneshot anywhere i want (just not home) - angsty strollonso 23' oneshot deliverance - 24' markoscar fic al dente - 24' hungarian gp loscar magical realism power oneshot

my f1 art : here my drabbles/ fic ideas : here

my fathers and sons memes : here

my live race reactions : here

[river-ocean]

River, bestie, from the OTP questions, 57!!!!!! and if you wanted to illustrate it with a short drabble, listen, who am i to complain about it (of course about piarles)

sol you're literally my fic manager you shouldn't be encouraging the brain worms

57. Who is the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

They're terrible at grocery shopping. They always promise to make a list for the next time they go, but they never follow through with that promise. They go in with a vague idea of what they need, and constantly have to pull up emails from their trainers about what they're supposed to be eating.

Charles tries to make a plan when they walk in to the store. They get a shopping cart, and he puts on his best serious face and looks to Pierre.

"We will be efficient today, Pierre. We just need to get enough to get us through until Wednesday since we will be traveling anyway," he says to his boyfriend.

"Sure, Charlo. We'll be efficient," Pierre smirks. He knows this shopping trip is not going to be efficient, but he'll humor Charles.

"Should we start with produce?" Charles asks, and Pierre gestures for him to lead the way.

It seems like it's going well until they get to the apples. Charles squints at the tags on the apple kiosk, reading off the names to Pierre and debating the merit of the different varieties. Pierre just grabs a bag and picks out the ones that look the best. He's less concerned with the variety and more concerned with making sure they're not bruised. Charles walks off and starts looking at the bagged salads. There's probably a bag at the back of their fridge from the last trip here.

The next aisle is cereals and muesli and granola, and Charles is immediately overwhelmed. It's the same grocery store they always go to and nothing has changed but it's like he's stepping into a grocery store for the first time every time they come here. Pierre walks down the aisle and just grabs the things they normally get and tosses them in the cart.

Charles gets ambitious and decides they're going to have a steak dinner at some point this week.

"For what, Charles?" Pierre asks.

"To celebrate...making it to the halfway point of the season!" he decides.

Pierre would've agreed irrespective of Charles' reasoning.

But a steak dinner means they need to go back to the produce section to get the proper accompaniments for a steak dinner, and the cycle repeats itself until they have an assortment of produce that they'll have to get creative with to use up before Wednesday, dry goods that will thankfully be fine when they get back, and two steaks to celebrate making it to the halfway point of the season.

Charles complains about how many bags they have to carry and how heavy they are. Pierre thinks about all of the things he's going to have to cook before Wednesday.

They find the bagged salad at the back of their refrigerator when they're putting away this week's groceries.

[pinkierre]

piarles x tennis date drabble

“Wasn’t it supposed to just be you and me?“ Charles sighs as he’s still holding up his hands. He and Pierre just got done counting all the people who will be joining them to the Monaco Masters today. It’s pretty much everyone they’re close to. Parents. Brothers. Friends. Ex physical trainers.

This was supposed to be a date. Their date. Just Charles and Pierre. It of course couldn’t be a date the way other people would have a date, but they could pretend. Pretend they could reach over and hold hands. Pretend they could kiss between sets. Pretend they were normal. They could at least go outside and be together. Pierre grabs Charles’ hands with his own and brings them to his lips, kissing Charles’ knuckles softly. “Mon amour. It’ll still be you and me. It just… won’t look as conspicuous.” Pierre says softly. Charles knows Pierre is right. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. He knows Pierre is… careful. He is worried about being found out. He’s always been the one holding back. At first, he was even holding back to give himself to Charles. And even though they’re past that, he’s still holding back to the world. Hiding the parts of himself Charles loves the most. At the same time, Charles doesn’t care anymore. He would like to shout their love from every rooftop he encounters. Or, every tennis court. “Do you promise you’ll stay with me? That you won’t wonder off and leave me by myself?” Charles asks him. Charles knows he sounds a little bratty. But if he can’t be alone with Pierre, he’ll at least want to be around Pierre. Pierre lets go of Charles’ hands and moves them to frame Charles’ face. He takes a step closer to Charles. There’s nothing separating them now. Pierre thumb rubs across Charles’ bottom lip. “Where else would I want to be when I’m with you?” Pierre whispers. Charles would like to put up more of a fight here, but he knows he’s helpless against Pierre’s touch. He angles his face upwards. No matter how much taller he might be than Pierre, for some reason he always has to move up to meet Pierre. Pierre’s hand tangles in his hair and he feels Pierre’s breath ghost over his lips and- BANG BANG BANG “Charles! Pierre! We are here!” They hear either of their mothers yell through Charles’ apartment door. Pierre rests his forehead against Charles’ as he lets out a soft sigh. “Come on, Calamar. Let’s have an amazing day.” 

[milflewis]

Do you know what’s the ship name for Charles X Gasly? Wrote a Drabble, have no idea how to tag it.

i think ppl mainly use piarles!

[wolfiemcwolferson]

So...he's a little pre-race drabble for the racing gods. I have no idea what this is. It's not what I was meant to put out. I was possessed by the holy spirit of RPF, Mr. Gasly himself.

It had been a joke.

Joris had signed him up for it before the ink had been dry on his divorce paperwork as his maman would say. Even though he hadn’t physically signed anything. It was like a…PDF signature. Digital and depressing. Like their entire marriage had been.

Charles thinks that Joris really had done it for a bit and then it had gone too far and before he knew it, he was on a plane to Paris to meet with producers and then he was signing NDA’s and getting fitted with wardrobe and someone that sounded vaguely Italian was cutting his hair even though he kept telling them that his maman did just fine.

He wasn’t…opposed to the whole thing of it - although reality television was a joke, he knew that he wasn’t going to find his soulmate on a TV show, but he was experiencing. He was learning about his sexuality and he was out and he was going to maybe get a couple of brand deals out of it.

Probably cry at least once. He was prepared for that. 

One of Lorenzo’s friends from uni had done a very low budget Italian version of Love Island and three of the guys from his Villa were in his wedding and Charles could honestly use some gay friends! His friends from Monaco were trying, but it was hard for them to understand sometimes. He had married a woman after all. He had made a life with her for years and then he had just - 

So, yeah. He had walked into this whole thing knowing that it was going to be an experience - one he wanted to take with both hands and that he would try and come out of with dignity and then on the first night, Pierre fucking Gasly walked in and Charles was done for.

-

He tries to make friends in the house. And he thinks they make progress every day.

He likes to work out with Peter - the guy from Denver who moved to France for university and never left. He attempts to learn to cook from Esteban - the chef who owns two of his own restaurants. He watches movies with the two friends from Italy who talk to each other in Italian constantly and he thinks he’s making friends with them.

But then someone comes in from a date and he just…crumbles.

He kissed me, someone will say and Charles will burn up with rage, his face red and blotchy and he never ever ever congratulates them or asks them questions because he can’t stand it. He can’t stand them and he knows that it’s ridiculous because there are…fifteen men left in this house and only one of them will leave with Pierre, and it’s only been two weeks of this, but Charles cannot stand it - feels as though Pierre is his.

He can feel the cameras on him and he knows that when he leaves the room in a hurry, they’re following him.

He can already see the narrative that’s being developed about him.

Bratty and silly and naive. 

He knows the mic’s pick up the way Pierre leans in and says his name so softly and the camera's see the way that Charles’ blushes and it’s so stupid because there are so many accomplished, wonderful men here and Charles is not special, but…

Pierre makes him feel like he’s special - like what they have is special and even though they’ve had a handful of minutes together…Charles knows that he and Pierre could be…

Well, they could be great.

-

There are eight of them left and Charles is on his second one-on-one date.

Not just his second one-on-one, it’s the second in a row.

Charles has only seen one season of this show - that he watched frantically all in one night two days before his flight - but he doesn’t think it normally happens like that and the only reason Pierre had been allowed to do it was because he had asked Charles during the rose ceremony in front of the other guys. 

It’s confirmation for what he already knows. That he and Pierre have something together. The way Pierre looks at him, the way he listens to him, the way he laughs with him, the way his fingers always stray south when he’s kissing him…

They’re on a boat - mic’d up, sitting in front of food they can’t eat. 

The boat is docked and Charles would be annoyed by that normally because he loves the sea and he loves to go and he thinks that’s half the reason they’re on this date - a two hour drive through France in the back of a car is all worth it for this moment with Pierre - that Pierre arranged because Charles had talked so fondly about his families boat in Monaco.

Charles is talking softly about Monaco and his brothers and Pierre stops him, “Cha,” he says, running one finger down Charles’ cheek, “Can I have a minute? I hate to call cut, but I need to go and have a talk with production.”

The bottom drops out of Charles’ world.

You only call cut when something bad has happened. That was what they had coached him on when he started. You get to call cut, but only if it’s really really really bad, and Charles thinks Pierre is about to send him home.

That’s the only reason he would call cut right now.

They had been kissing, Pierre’s fingers tucked into his goddamn waistband and then he had pulled away to ask about Charles’ family and…he’s realized he has no feelings for him whatsoever, but wants to save him the embarrassment of a rose ceremony after he -

“Yes,” Charles backs away from him, “Of course.”

He can feel the cameras again, hyper-aware of the way this is all going to get edited. 

Desperate. He’ll be painted as desperate and ridiculous and he just cannot breathe and he -

“Charles -” a producer says, and Charles waves him off as he stands, feeling like he might puke, leaning over the side of the boat, trying to draw in breath the way Joris had taught him.

He should go and tell them he wants to go home.

That’s the dignified thing to do. 

He thinks that’s allowed. There’s an eject button on this too, but that’s only for big big big emergencies and this might be that. 

He was just so silly. To think he and Pierre had a connection - that he was feeling like he and Pierre could be in love - that they could have a real future. 

Charles was thinking about moving to Paris. Uprooting his entire fucking life to be close to Pierre’s practice because -

He hears his name being called again as he stumbles towards the sliding door that Pierre had disappeared behind.

There’s a kitchen and a lounge and that’s where the camera and production crew are hiding and he knows that’s where Pierre is and he is just going to tell them all that he needs to go home right now, but he gets to the door and freezes.

Pierre is in profile and he has one hand on his chest and there are tears streaming down his face.

A rather severe looking producer is wagging a finger in Pierre’s face and Charles is suddenly full of rage because how dare he make Pierre feel like that? This is Pierre’s show and he gets anything he wants and -

“I don’t want to go back to the house tonight,” Pierre pleads, tapping his chest. “It’s Charles, it has to be him.”

The producer - Jacques, Charles thinks - pats Pierre on the shoulder like he’s a child. “There are still weeks of filming left. You could change your mind. I know he is nice. Charles is very sweet and he is testing well, but you have such a great connection with Esteban. Don’t you want to see that through?”

Charles is frozen in place. He wants to hear everything. He wants to know everything happening, but the producer that was in his face earlier is shooing him away from the door, back to his spot with a cross look on his face. “You cannot repeat any of that,” he says firmly.

“Repeat what?” Charles echoes back and then waits in agonizing silence until Pierre remerges some time later. He looks stressed and tired, but he sits down next to Charles, placing his hand on his thigh and apologizes to him for the interruption.

Charles leans over and kisses him instead, open-mouthed and too much for fucking television, but Pierre’s fingers are so tight on his waist and he knows somehow that this is it for him.

He’s not walking away from this thing with a couple of brand deals and some friends.

He’s walking away with Pierre.

-

He doesn’t tell him until their honeymoon.

Pierre in a white linen shirt with too many buttons undone and Charles in a pair of swim shorts he is sure don’t belong to him and a boat that Pierre is renting from some PSG player.

Charles is laying between Pierre’s legs - despite their size difference, it’s the way the two of them prefer to be - Pierre splaying his hand on Charles’ bare chest, Charles hands on Pierre’s thighs, letting the hair run between his fingers.

It reminds him of their last night together before the final rose ceremony. Pierre and Charles had spent the night together in that sterile white suite, but most of the night had been spent like this - on the lounge chair on the balcony covered in the hotel duvet. Talking. Just so much talking.

Away from the cameras for the first time and in love.

And even then Charles hadn’t told him because he was scared of it - there had been a piece of him that had wanted to hold it back. In case…

He tells him now. Maybe because there’s no one else. Maybe because they’re on another boat.

“I heard part of your conversation that night.” Charles twists, cheek on Pierre’s chest. “The night of our date on the boat. You said that it had to be me and -”

Pierre grips his face too hard and forces him to twist around, coming to his knees so he can move and they’re face to face - Pierre’s eyes are blazing and Charles is breathing too quickly - he’s all too familiar with that look.

“You heard me?” Pierre demands. “I told them all that I loved you and you heard me?”

“No!” Charles says, “You - you only said that you didn’t want to go back to the house and that you wanted me and then Jacques told you that you had a connection with Esteban and then I didn’t hear anything else. I had to go and sit down -”

But he doesn’t get to finish. Pierre is kissing him hard and unrelenting and Charles is still trying to catch up.

“Pierre -” he mumbles, pushing on Pierre’s shoulders, “What?”

“I wanted to end it that night.” Pierre tells him, fingers coming away from his cheeks to grip Charles’ chin. “I asked them to end it because I didn’t want anyone else. I only wanted you.” He heaves a breath. “You’ll see when the season comes out, but we were…they were so angry. There’s barely a season after that night. I wasn’t…I knew it was you.”

“You never said -” Charles starts, but Pierre is too strong and he flips them, pinning Charles to the cushions. 

“Fuck, I love you and I have loved you since I laid eyes on you.” He sinks his teeth into Charles’ collarbone and Charles forgets he was going to protest.

“I love you,” he says instead.

Pierre soothes the sharp bite with his tongue. “Going to love you forever, Charles.” And then softer, “Husband.”

[singsweetmelodies]

Piarles + church ⛪️

digging through my inbox again for another one of my 5-sentence fic prompts from a year ago, because earlier tonight, i wrote this piarles drabble, and then Tia said:

well, my darling friend, my most favourite enabler and idea-giver: this isn't quite 25 chapters, but i couldn't resist. love you SO MUCH!! and here you go - the "after" section you requested 🤭❤️💙

Charles takes his first step into the church, and his breath catches. He might not be religious in any way, but he cannot deny that there is something about this place.

The inside of the church is lit up with a light that feels golden, spilling in through the door behind him and transforming, somehow, when it enters the church. Tall, graceful marble pillars stretch up to the domed roof, their fastenings etched with intricate gold carvings which catch and reflect the ethereal light.

In front of Charles stretches a long, marble-floored aisle with rows and rows of wooden pews on either side. The people sitting in those pews - all of Charles and Pierre's closest loved ones - seem touched by some kind of radiance, alight and glowing with happiness and love.

And at the end of the aisle... at the end of the aisle is the altar; a beautiful, imposing thing with its lighted candles and carved marble sanctuary and red, red cloth - but Charles is really only interested in the man who stands before it.

Pierre. Pierre, his best friend, his soulmate, and the love of his life.

Pierre, who is wearing a black-and-white suit with a blue tie the same colour as his eyes (and the same colour as Charles' soulmark.) Pierre, whose jaw drops when he sees Charles - and the altar is far away from the door, yes, but not so far that Charles can't see the way that Pierre swallows, hard, before his face splits into the most beautiful smile Charles has ever seen.

I love you so much, he thinks, which has always been his instinctive reaction to Pierre smiling. But it feels like it means more, today. It means everything.

Charles starts walking down the aisle, moving before he's even really processed that he's doing it, and with every step he takes, the soulmark on his chest burns a little warmer.

Charles has wanted this since he was seven years old, and he asked his Maman what her wedding ring was, and she smiled and said, "When you love someone so much that God paints their colour on your body, that's when you get one of these."

Then, when Charles was old enough to understand a little better, and begin yearning for the one person he thought he'd never get to have, he realised he'd probably never get to wear a wedding ring. Because if he wasn't going to marry Pierre, then he knew deep-down that he wouldn't marry anyone. Nobody except Pierre could ever be his soulmate.

But somehow, impossibly, the universe smiled on him, and agreed: nobody except Pierre could ever be his soulmate. Somehow, impossibly, Charles gets to have this.

In the next breath, Charles reaches the altar, and Pierre smiles again. It's softer this time, tender and intimate and full of so much love, and Charles knows it's meant just for him - not for the priest, or for the numerous cameras, or for any of the people gathered. Just for Charles. "Ready, my love?" he asks.

And Charles smiles back, slipping his hand into Pierre's, and he's never meant it more when he says, "Ready."

[delicate44]

Aaah that blue neighbourhood piarles drabble has left me wanting to read their story again 😭😭 the hold this series has on me 😭

[starlightiing]

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

tagged by: @fastcarsgovroomm

Pierrestie College AU

Assorted F1 Drabble Requests

Pierresteban Androids Beep Boop

Pierresteban Dinosaurs Rawr

Star light, Star bright (landoscar)

Pierresteban Vampires argh

Inception & Shit

Landoscar drabbles & shit

Pierresteban Vroom Crash

Landoscar Bad Times

Featherdust

Piarles train au choochoo

Pierrestie Cardio shit

Estecharles Ripperoni

Nyckierre Vroom Crash :(

So I think I've seen everyone and their mom do this but I'll tag some folks anyway. @bumblewyn @chilling-seavey @landoisokay man I dunno...like everyone has done this.

If you see it and you wanna do it, do it. And tag me in it.