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Jan 22, 2023

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

SUMMARY: an affair between you and charles runs deep as it breaks all of your hearts REQUESTED: no WARNING: angst, cheating, physical violence, suggestive language, reader is described to have brown eyes PAIRING: charles leclerc x reader, pierre gasly x reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k

NOTE: based off “bad omens” by 5sos. also this is a repost in hopes that tumblr's done messing up

MASTERLIST

i cried in your dark brown eyes for the thousandth time ‘cause you love somebody.

He nurses the beer keeping his hands cold. He doesn’t like beer. He doesn’t like the bitter aftertaste that lingers in his tongue but it was better that than think back to your words, your dark brown eyes haunting him whenever he closes his eyes.

“I love somebody else,” you told him and Charles felt his heart shatter at the weight of your words, so quiet within the darkness of his bedroom he almost missed it.

“That’s okay,” he told you but you both know he was lying. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about this is okay but it would have to be. It has to be enough. Your half love has to be enough. Watching you leave but knowing you’ll come back has to be enough.

“I love him,” you say and neither of you are sure if you’re convincing him or yourself, saying it again and again as if it would change the fact that you’re here, naked in his arms, in his apartment, instead of back home with your fiance, the one patiently waiting for you not knowing you’re wrapped in his best friend’s arms.

“I know,” he says but he doesn’t let you go anyways. A lie, it’s all lies. You don’t love him. You both know this. That’s why you can’t stop. That’s why neither can he. You can say it as much as you want, try to convince yourself and him as your guilty conscience eats away at you but the truth remains; you don’t love Pierre. You had once upon a time but not anymore. Not till you met his best friend and immediately realized those green eyes would follow you for the rest of your life, not till it was too late.

Charles shuts his eyes, gulping the entirety of his beer at one go as he tries to forget the sight of you leaving.

i died when you left that night for the thousandth time.

“I should have met you first,” he cried that night for the thousandth time just as he had every other night you have to say goodbye. “It should have been me.”

And you’re crying too, needing to say goodbye for the thousandth time as you hold onto him as if you’re terrified to let go, as if letting go might mean forever. “I know, I know.”

And maybe it is forever this time. Maybe this is the last time. You both know it should be with the new ring on your finger but Charles can’t help but hope anyway. He hopes this is just another one of your broken promises to stay away.

But there’s goodbye in your eyes, the same one that had been there as Pierre kneeled in front of you that afternoon, a bright smile on his face as your friends and family surrounded you, as he promised to love you. You couldn’t say no, not in front of everyone. You couldn’t break him so cruelly like that and so you said yes, so feeble and so quiet you’re surprised no one had noticed the crack in your voice. Or perhaps they had and simply thought it’s from happiness, not realizing they’re watching you break into a thousand irreparable pieces.

You should have been the happiest girl on earth and yet as your boyfriend slips the ring into your finger, your heart breaks as you dare not but look into your lover’s eyes standing behind him, terrified to see the obvious heartbreak that reflects yours.

This is the last time and this will be the last time that you say it is. You owe it to Pierre.

“Let’s run away,” Charles all but pleads as he holds you, his body shaking as he sobs, his forehead against yours, inhaling as much of your scent as he can before he never gets another chance to. “Please. Let’s leave and never come back. I’ll give up everything.”

And you only cry harder as you shake your head. It would be so easy to just say fuck everything and leave it all behind, leave your life behind and follow your heart, but you have been selfish for so long and now you owe it to Pierre to try, to learn to love him and the life he promised you again. You owe it to him to try and forget Charles, to let him go despite how much you want to hold on tighter.

“We can’t,” you say, your voice breaking as you hold his face in your hands, trying to memorize every curve, every freckle. “We can’t do that. Not to Pierre.”

And Charles only cries harder. He would have been willing to fight. He would have been willing to give up everything; his home, racing, Pierre, everything he’s ever known. He would have been willing to accept it all; the scrutiny and the hate, the judgment and the fury. He would have been willing to watch the world burn, willing to let go of all his morals and everything he ever stood for just to be with you, just to never have to say goodbye again.

But it doesn’t matter how much he’s ready to lose, not when you’re already letting go of his hand.

“I don’t love him.” A confession, a whisper, an admittance. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it, ever admitted to the truth you both knew all along. “But I can’t love you.”

And with that, you’re gone.

heaven knows i should let go. it’s nothing i don’t already know.

Funnily enough, it was Pierre that started the domino effect. The moment the two of you had been introduced, Charles thought you were beautiful of course. He would be blind not to, but he thought of nothing else. He gave you a friendly smile as he shook your hand in greeting. He knows close to nothing about you other than you’re also from Monaco and his best friend is absolutely smitten.

As the dinner progressed, it wasn't hard to understand why. You’re beautiful, your laugh is captivating and your words had everyone at the edge of their seats. But still, he was the perfect kind of friendly, completely platonic. He thought you and Pierre looked good together.

And as the night comes to a close and everyone says their goodbyes, Charles had told Pierre you were good for him. He’d given you a friendly kiss on the cheek before you and Pierre drove away and that was that.

He barely thought of you again the following days apart from seeing your occasional post on instagram he stumbled across.

It was Pierre who pushed the domino that started it all one wednesday afternoon during the summer break. You had a job in Monaco and Pierre was spending time with family in France but he’d promised to see you for the last week of his break. You’d taken time off work and had everything planned.

Up until he’d sent you a message canceling, promising to be there next wednesday instead, giving the two of you only three days to spend together before the season starts back up again. You did your best to understand. He missed his family and he should be able to spend as much time with them as he can but that doesn't mean you’re able to hide your disappointment as you stare at the message on your phone.

And it was just pure fate that Charles happened to be in the same restaurant you’d made reservations for you and Pierre. It’s a fancy place in Monte Carlo and getting a table is near impossible and so you didn't want to waste the opportunity of missing out on good food.

Charles, whose date had just canceled on him due to an emergency, was quick to spot your familiar face. Had Pierre been there, he would have just said hello and went on his merry way after wishing the two of you a good night.

And maybe in another universe that would have been exactly what he’d done. Maybe in another universe he wouldn’t have given you the bouquet of flowers he got for his date in an attempt to remove the frown on your face. In another universe he wouldn’t have sat in front of you. In another universe the two of you didn’t have dinner that night. In another universe he wouldn’t have fallen completely captivated by your laugh, so much so that he had cracked many corny jokes in his attempts to hear them again.

In another universe you wouldn’t have told him about your canceled plans and the time off work that you took and he wouldn’t have invited you to join him and his friends on a hiking trip. He wouldn’t have asked you to join him on his yacht right after and the two of you wouldn’t have spent the entire week completely inseparable.

If Pierre had been there, he wouldn’t have fallen for your laugh and you wouldn’t have gotten lost in his eyes. In another universe, in another world, maybe the two of you wouldn’t have made such a big mess of things.

But Pierre wasn’t there and so you spent a blissful week together, completely naive in what your friendship would become.

And when Pierre came, it was too late. The chain of events had started. You had knowing smiles and inside jokes not even Pierre is welcomed in. You would only grow closer, sharing a bond and a friendship that was becoming more.

And by the time either of you realized what was happening, you were already too close, unable to let each other go despite knowing that you should.

can’t help the way i keep ignoring every omen

Pierre knows there was something wrong with you. There have been for a while now. You’re different. Your smile isn’t the way it used to be and neither is your laugh. You always seem so far away now as though you’d rather be anywhere but next to him.

He missed you. He missed your smile and your warmth. He missed your kisses and your touch. Everything is empty.The room is empty. The space between the two of you is empty. The bed you shared is empty. Your hearts are empty. He should have seen it coming.

He ignored every bad omen because he was so desperately in love with you. You were slipping right through his fingers and the thought frightened him more than anything. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, of learning to live without you. You’re addicting, one taste and anyone would be a goner. Pierre wasn’t an exception.

And so he proposed. It was the only thing he could think of. It would be so much harder to divorce a husband than break up with a boyfriend after all. He knew his reasoning wasn’t the best but he was way past caring. He’d gotten desperate, an addict determined not to lose his fix.

And maybe a part of him half expected you to say no, to make up some excuse about not being ready for marriage. And maybe a part of him took notice of your sad eyes, of the way your heart breaks in front of him. And maybe if he tried a little harder, he would have seen the exact same look on his best friend’s eyes.

And maybe he would have known then. But Pierre ignored every sign, every omen. All to keep you in his arms.

that’s what you do when you love somebody

You’re dizzy, your hands clammy and the lace of the wedding dress you’re wearing seems to suffocate you no matter how many times you pull at it.

Everyone around you seems to be unaware of the rock in your stomach, sinking and sinking till you fear you can no longer hold it. Perhaps you’re a better liar than you thought because not a single person questioned your fake smiles and rigid, tense stature.

You’re getting married to the best man who genuinely adores you. You should be the happiest woman in the world right now so does it feel like you’re marching to your death with your hands tied behind your back? Why do you want to run and never look back? Why does the urge to curl into a ball and cry feel so strong?

In a few minutes time, you will be making vows and in doing so, breaking the ones you’ve made before. Ones whispered in a blanket of darkness with heavy breaths of desperation.

“Are you ready?” Your best friend, your made of honor, asked and you made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Suddenly you feel like the weight of everything is pressing against your skin and you want nothing more than to turn around and start running.

Run to Charles’ arms and let him fix everything. Months after the summer break that had started everything, you had worshiped Charles Leclerc. He made a cathedral out of your body and for a foolish, naive moment, Charles believed his mouth was the antidote that would cure the broken shards of your betrayal.

Maybe you believed it too. It’s always so easy to forget with his lips on your skin.

But like everything beautiful and rebellious, like fallen angels who turned their backs on God, the two of you fell and crashed and burned, the wreck you left after you set your hearts aflamed. You should have known nothing good would ever come from something born out of broken promises.

Two people who knew heartache so well should have known better than to play with flames.

You tear your gaze away from your best friend’s eyes, taking a deep breath as you mustered all the courage you had left. “I am.”

It was a never ending cycle. Everyday, you would attempt to forget, to numb your burnt heart and silence your aching soul. You would go about your day, friends by your side, your fiance holding your hand and you would try to forget how you wished it’s someone else’s hand you’re holding. Hands that touched you in places no one else has, fingers that traced your skin and memorized every dip and bump.

And sometimes, you succeed. Sometimes, you don’t look to the other side of the paddock where he stands. Sometimes, you numb yourself just enough that the physical ache of not being able to hold Charles disappears for a few glorious hours that you don’t feel like a traitor when Pierre touches you.

Then the night falls and you’re laying in bed and waves of sadness crashes in like a fucking tornado determined to destroy everything you’ve built brick by brick. Your skin feels dirty and you feel empty, void and dull of everything that made you you.

You read somewhere that the body regenerates every seven years and you lay there fearing the day where your skin had never been touched by your lover.

The crowd stood as the piano played and you walked down the altar. You can see your mother crying, your younger brother holding her tightly. You can see your friends, your people, ones you grew up with. They all looked at you with happy smiles on their faces as if they knew you’re doing the right thing. How can they know when you don’t?

And then your eyes caught his. He stood by the corner, dark hair falling to his face. He watched with such anguish that made you stop in your tracks, hearing everyone gasps as you stood frozen. Pierre invited him. Of course he had. Charles is his best friend. Why wouldn’t he be invited to his wedding?

You never thought he’d come though. You hoped he had more self preservation than that, but you really should have known better. Charles is a masochist, believing himself worthy of the pain and so he welcomes them with open arms, always silent as the tears fall. Especially when it comes to you.

His lips are shut and his eyes are glassy. He watches and you wish he’d stop. If the two of you can’t leave together then you hoped Charles would leave now. You hoped the man you love would turn back and not let himself witness the breaking of his own heart. If you can’t save him then you hoped Charles would save himself.

Your hands clenched as if you’d reached for him and Charles stood breathless and he wonders what if they do? What if you reached for him? He knew what he’d do. He’d take them. He’d turn his back on his family, his best friend. He’d reach for you, he’d crawl to you. You could take him apart, break him and destroy his life and Charles would plead on his knees for you to stay.

The orchestra now feels like a death march. Everyone is staring, whispering and Pierre looks like he’s about to break, but you’re still not moving. You’re still staring at Charles and he at you, one of you waiting for the other.

The first time you made love, you could have sworn you just signed your own death contract. Gods be damn, heaven be damned. You would burn a thousand times for this. If you were made for hell then let it be hell. You will accept damnation for this. You had never tasted passion like this, love like this. Pain like this.

You forced yourself to look away from Charles, finally turning to Pierre and so you looked at the sight of your old lover, your heart breaks a little bit more. You wished your heart would beat out of your chest and your soul would roar everytime they do when Charles is touching you. But you wish for a lot things

After your last goodbye with Charles, you’d spent weeks trying to chase that feeling. You drank and rode in fast cars. You kissed Pierre, kissed his skin and touched him as you would touch Charles. You tried everything, desperate to make your heart beat fast the way it did the week you spent together.

None of it worked. You wondered how anyone could explain the physical pain in your chest when all you want is to be with the one you love. What is a bigger tragedy? That you can’t have Charles or that you had him only to not be able to keep him?

Charles’ eyes don't leave you. If only for the last time, if only for the hopelessness of it all, he pleads again. Say the word and I will crawl to you. Say the word. Say the word. Say the word.

You remain quiet but you did something else. You let the flowers you were holding drop to the ground, staring at Pierre as the tears fall. And as everyone watched you, you turned around, running out of the cathedral as though you were in a movie.

For a moment Charles stood there as pandemonium within the guest broke. Pierre was immediately after you but the Ferrari driver seems to be stuck, still staring at where you stood seconds ago. You looked beautiful in your white dress, so beautiful it almost felt like you were something out of a dream.

And Charles had thought you weren’t his. For as long as the two of you had been together, he’d always been the one always willing to risk more. You were always hesitant, always guilty and almost alway ready to say goodbye. It was always Charles on his knees as he pleaded for you to stay.

You can never turn your back enough on Pierre to allow yourself to love him.

But perhaps this is why you’d asked him not to come. Perhaps you knew all along that you’d be unable to continue if he’s watching you. How are you expected to break both of your hearts?

And then Charles is moving, following after you and Pierre as he pushes through the throng of people also attempting to get to you. You and Pierre are at the garden where the reception would have been held. You’re crying, hands on your face as mascara ran down your cheeks, your dress bunched up around you as Pierre stared at you with so much hatred and anger.

And Charles knew then.

As Pierre raised his head from the sound of Charles’ footsteps, the Frenchman seemed to only see red, your words echoing in his head.

“I can’t marry you.”

“I’m in love with someone else.”

“Charles-”

And before either of you could react, Pierre is at Charles, tackling him to the ground and his fist colliding with his best friend’s face. Dimly, Charles is aware of you screaming. Dimly, he’s aware of the people from the church running towards you guys but Charles only stays there. He takes the hits. He stays there, refusing to fight back.

Perhaps it was always meant to end like this. Years and years of friendship, a bond strengthened through grief, heartbreak and hardships, a companionship that all thought would last forever.

Eventually, someone manages to pull Pierre away, his fist bloodied along with Charles’ face. And maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you were rubbing salt in the wound but you were immediately on Charles’ side, gently holding his bloodied face in your hands as tears streamed down your face.

Charles’ body aches and he can barely stand straight but his arms are around you, trying to hold you together, trying to shield you from the scrutinizing eyes of the guests, trying to save you from Pierre’s hatred and anger.

Pierre is crying now too as the groomsmen hold him back from attacking Charles again.

“You are dead to me,” he said, pointing at his best friend before he stalked away, leaving them standing there in shock.

Maybe in another universe, it wouldn’t have ended up this way.

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover

#beautifully written #i am in shambles

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