Formula One Reader Insert

Pierre Gasly; Just Like Before.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" (Y/N) whispered as she looked at her phone, seeing her boyfriend, once again, partying with women from the paddock and not shying away from public displays. She threw her phone down and went to mute it, only to receive a text.

Baguette Boy:

Coming home late, don't stay up. Love you.

"How considerate." She mumbled, ruffling her (H/C) locks after swiping away the notification and taking a shower to try and wash away emotions and memories. It was the first time Pierre had been caught in this sort of thing, nor was it the first time that he said he would try and be better for her, for them. As she threw off her pajamas and turned the water to damn near scalding, she attached her phone to the shower speaker and decided to blare heartbreak and feminist anthems. Spotify defaulted to Carrie Underwood's Think Before He Cheats, deciding that this would be the start of the end for her emotional torment. 

Once clean, dry and aware that he would be staying in either a hotel or some random woman's apartment, she gathered all of her belongings and began packing them in the boxes she had hidden in the loft, like Pierre even went up there. She threw the remaining items of her clothes (even some of his) into the washing machine and tumble dryer, before putting her final items in a box at about one in the morning, when a knock on the door was heard. She looked through the keyhole and saw an angry Dutchman and his equally annoyed Australian friend. As she opened the door, they walked straight into the entry way and saw the mountain of boxes. 

"Daniel, let's get to work." Max said, taking a stack of two full of clothes. Daniel simply nodded and grabbed two smaller, heavier boxes before following his shorter comrade out the door and down to the two honda civics that sat at the front of the building. (Y/N) didn't need to know how they knew, they were probably there partying in Milan, and Maxy always said there was space with him, Kelly and Penelope. Daniel had also extended the same invite for his home in Monaco, since him and Heidi were usually home when shit hit the fan. After a half hour, the boys had moved the boxes into their cars to go to whoever's house and were stood around watching as she did one last thing. 

"You coming, Barbie?" Danny asked, watching as she sat on the sofa and wrote a short letter for Pierre in his hungover stupor. Daniel started calling her Barbie after they went to a toy shop one night with his niblings and she got distracted with his niece and the Barbie dolls. 

"I am in a minute, Kenny Ric..." She mumbled, focussing on the letter and the little water splatters that wet the paper, smudging the ink. She left it folded up on the living room table and felt Max's presence behind her, his arms quickly following the sense. His arms felt safe and comforting. She just let it all out; the frustration, the anger, the heartbreak. Everything was finally done and finished with, for good this time. 

"What number was this?" Max whispered, knowing it was a mean question, but a needed one. She sat silent for a minute as she counted on her fingers, hearing Daniel snort behind them, which made Max giggle. 

"I'm kidding," she mumbled, a sad smile donning her lips. "This was the third time, the third time's the charm and all that crap." She said, watching as Daniel appeared before her holding a tissue, brushing away the stray tears. 

"Come on Barbie, let's go commit a crime!" He said jokingly, knowing that the temptation to burn that white linen shirt was sat in the recesses of her mind. "Come on, koala me!" He said, arms already pulling her towards him by her calves. (Y/N) simply nodded and wrapped her arms behind his head, glad that it was so early in the morning and that meant there were no paparazzi. As Daniel headed down with her like a marsupial attached to it's mother, Max took the keys for the newly moved from flat from her Monaco storage locker keys and dumped the flat keys with the letter.