Formula 1 | One Shots

Oui Oui Baguette | Pierre Gasly

Authors Note: Mr. Tripod makes a return to my one shot stories hehe, enjoy 😉 

Done in reader's POV
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I woke up to the sound of light snoring and warm breath hitting my neck. My eyes fluttered open lazily, my head pounding from the multiple drinks I haphazardly must have downed the night before. I couldn't even remember what happened, let alone where I was. I was jolted remembering the random body laying on mine, causing the mystery man to wake up, startled too.

"Putain! Qui es-tu?" he says with a French accent, nearly falling out of the bed. I had zero idea what he was saying but using context clues, it seemed like he was asking me who I was. He was just as clueless as I was, shit how much did we drink last night? I looked around trying to figure out where I was.

My eye caught his, he wasn't the most horrible person to be in bed with. His eyes were dreamily ocean blue and he had a nice smile. NO focus Laili!! Stop staring at this stranger and get your shit together.

"English?" I ask him. He nodded his head.

"Let's start with names, I'm Laili. And you are?" He stared at me curiously, like I said something wrong.

"You seriously don't know who I am?" he asks with a hint of entitlement in his voice. 

"Do you think I would be asking if I did? I woke up in what seems to be your hotel room with no recollection of last night."

"I'm Pierre, Pierre Gasly. I also don't remember much from last night aside from going out to the club with friends. I don't even know how we got back."

I look down and see that I'm only in a t-shirt, one that isn't mine. It had some weird brand name on it, Alpine...I had never heard of it but it looked like a men's shirt. I look up at Pierre and he noticed me staring down at myself. "Did we....um?" I ask while blushing.

"I can't remember, although I wish I did cherie" he said while his eyes were raking over me, causing me to blush even more. He wasn't wrong, he was hot and I was single, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, I guess?

I tried to think about the last thing I remember of last night. I remember getting to the club with my girlfriends and a VIP group inviting us to join them. I remembered a bunch of hot foreign men buying us drinks all night and flirting with us. I also remembered someone speaking Spanish and French to me.

We were in Vegas to celebrate my friends birthday. Flashes of grey goose bottles flickered through my mind. I faintly remember an Elvis Presley impersonator and making out with Pierre in the back of a nice Ferrari. For some reason the song 'smooth operator' kept playing in my memories of last night. Weird...

"Well I'm sure we had a fun night, even though we can't remember. I guess thank for bringing me back safely? Do you mind if I just freshen-up and I'll head out?" I ask him. He nods, laying back in bed with an arm behind his head. He seemed to be staring at the ceiling, likely trying to piece memories of last night. I heard him sigh loudly.

I stepped into his bathroom suite, admiring how large and luxurious it was. Whoever this Pierre guy was, he probably had lots of money. I went to wash my hands and face with the courtesy products the hotel provided. As I rinsed off the face wash and went to dry my hands I nearly passed out on the spot. 

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! oh my god, oh my god" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

This must have startled Pierre who nearly tripped running into the bathroom, after hearing me scream bloody murder. "Merde, what?? what happened?!?!?! Are you okay?"

I didn't even have words, not that I could vocalize at that point anyway. I simply lifted my left hand up to reveal a huge diamond on my ring finger. Pierre's entire face went white as a ghost. He couldn't even hold himself up, clutching onto the sink counter for stability.