#Big Talks para

[fletchervanhall]

Big Talks | Flavier

Featuring: Fletcher Van Hall & Xavier Mitchell; mentions of other Van Halls and Mitchells. Location: Millennium Hilton Hotel; NYC, NY Time Frame: Early morning, April 26, 2024 Notes: Flavier have an important talk, the same morning that this took place. @xaviernottheprofessor

XAVIER

Waking up with the biggest smile on his face, Xavier’s immediate reaction was to wrap his arms around Fletcher but to his surprise, he wasn’t in bed with him. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses before reaching for his phone and when he read his boyfriend’s text message, he smiled and stretched his arms. He had a slow day considering he’d be performing tomorrow which would give him and Fletcher time to be touristy. Xavier stood up as he checked his emails and made sure he had finished his work. He had one meeting in a couple of minutes and he figured he had enough time before Fletcher got back. Feeling a little sore but in the best way, Xavier practiced a few yoga poses before throwing on a t shirt and joining the quick Zoom call. Once he had finished, he looked at the time, getting slightly worried that his boyfriend was still out. Maybe it was just a busy morning at the store. He waited, wanting to take a shower with Fletcher and not alone and as he was about to text him, Xavier heard the door and smiled. “Hey! I was getting worried. Packed store?” He went to help Fletcher with the drinks and pressed a kiss against his lips. He noticed something off almost immediately and looked up at him. “Everything okay?”

FLETCHER

Despite his best efforts, Fletcher was still fuming from the encounter with Gerry. He'd stopped in the hotel lobby and set the bagels and drinks down to flex and straighten his fingers about a dozen times over. On impulse, he reached for his pho

ne to call his uncle now, but somehow, amidst his upset, remembered the 3 hour time difference and the likelihood that Drew was probably still asleep. So, after a few more deep, deep breaths, Fletcher picked up the breakfast items and strode to the elevators. Once he reached Xavier's hotel room, he arranged everything to one hand and opened the door with the key card. His expression was stony even though he'd wished it was calm and relaxed like it'd been when he left. He returned Xavier's kiss with little gusto and said, "No, not really," about the bagel shop being packed. He'd let Xavier take the drink tray and then set the bag of bagels down so he could pull his hoodie off. Tossing it to a chair, Fletcher stepped out of his shoes and sat down on the bed, running a hand down his face in an effort to wipe the tension away. "It will be. I'm just pissed. Kinda." He didn't even know how to start this conversation considering he never talked about his parents with anyone. He didn't even talk about them with Drew anymore.

"You should have your coffee before it gets cold. It should still be close to hot at least. And there's bagels in the bag. We've never had 'em together before so didn't know what you'd like and got a few different ones." Half naked in just his sweats, Fletcher leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs and his forefingers deliberately pressed against the corners of his eyes. "I know I should tell you what's up. I just don't know how." He sighed, almost never being one at a loss for words.

XAVIER

Xavier set the drinks on the table but kept his gaze on Fletcher. Something was definitely off about the other. "Well, that's good. Friday mornings shouldn't be too bad and rush hour is basically over." This was all filler conversation, of course. Xavier hoped Fletcher would take a moment to shake off what was bothering him enough to talk about if he needed to. When Fletcher said he was pissed, it got Xavier's attention. He could care less about the coffee, especially with how bothered and annoyed his boyfriend looked. "Alright, just take your time." He walked over to Fletcher and sat beside him, letting his hand settle on the other's back to massage small circles. "Don't worry about the coffee. I'll put it in the microwave if it gets too cold. I'm more worried about you."

Xavier glanced over to the bag of bagels and a small smile appeared on his face. He was grateful that Fletcher had gotten them breakfast. "Thank you. I like all bagels so I'm sure they're all great." He watched Fletcher, his smile slowly fading. Whatever was bothering his boyfriend, it was serious and he hated seeing him like this. "Whatever it is, I'm here to listen. Judgement-free zone and with an open heart and mind." He leaned in to press a kiss against Fletcher's temple. "What's going on?"

FLETCHER

He nodded, hearing but not fully listening to Xavier's comment about the busyness of the morning. And shortly after he felt Xavier approach, he moved his fingers from his eyes, rubbing them slightly to help clear his vision. He brought a hand down to rest on Xavier's thigh and finally said, "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just..." He trailed off and leaned into Xavier's words of comfort. His shoulders slowly rose and fell, and his back expanded and contracted as he drew in a deep breath and sighed it back out, deciding to start somewhere and just go with it.

"I've never told you about... my parents. And it was on purpose because they're mostly irrelevant in my life now. Drew talks to them from time to time and that's about as much of a tie to them as I still have. They seem to have no real problem being a brother or a sister-in-law but being a parent? That was too much for them to handle. I was too much for them. They had me when they were close to 40 and back then, they were the oldest parents of anyone my age. I was born here, in New York, and I had a lot of energy as a kid. Like most kids. And like most kids, I wanted to ask every question that came to my mind which exhausted and annoyed them. I wanted to go everywhere and do everything. They didn't." He thought back for a moment, remembering times where he argued with both of his parents until his dad shut the entire conversation down--usually with threats of a belt whooping. He remembered them arguing with each other about him and on rare occasion, one of them was in support of him being who he was.

"But neither of them could really be parents. It just became more and more obvious as I got older. And when they couldn't take it anymore, they sent me to live with Drew. There's an age gap between him and my-... than Gerry." He wouldn't call the man his father. Not out loud and not in his head if he could help it. "At first it was just during the school year and I'd come back home during the Winter and Summer breaks. And then, after a few years, it was permanent. They didn't want me getting my hopes up of coming back to New York for good anytime soon, which at the time, was what I wanted." He cracked a brief, mirthless half-smile Xavier's way, "So when I say I was a little shit to Drew when I was a kid, now you know why. He was kinder to me and more patient with me than my parents ever were, but I didn't want to be in California with him. I wanted to be back home. It didn't make sense then but it was what I'd wanted. And when that wasn't an option to even come visit, I got angry. I acted out at home--namely towards my idiot cousins who resented me being there. And I acted out at school, got into trouble for it and acted like I didn't care. I'd cuss out my parents if they tried calling to talk to me, so eventually, they stopped trying. First Gerry. And then Shirley." He took another deep breath and balled his fingers into knuckle-white fists. "I hadn't seen or heard from either of them directly since high school. Drew tried to keep me in the loop on their lives but he learned pretty quick that I didn't wanna hear about them.

"But he must've talked to Gerry recently because the old man knew I was in town. And he knew I was here because I ran into him when I was coming back with breakfast."

XAVIER

Xavier shook his head in response to never being told about Fletcher's parents. There were a lot of conclusions that Xavier had made on his own based on conversations with Drew and things he had picked up along the way but nothing seemed concrete and he figured, it was a topic Fletcher didn't like to dive into. The mere fact that Drew was constantly praised and given credit for Fletcher's upbringing and the man he is today was enough evidence that Fletcher's parents weren't people worth mentioning and the more Xavier listened, the more he realized that was correct. It saddened him knowing his parents didn't want him and had made a big effort to push Fletcher away. No kid deserved that no matter the intention. Even if sending Fletcher to Drew was best for him, it didn't mean that as a boy he didn't feel neglected. Xavier listened intently, his heart hurting for Fletcher and the little boy that once existed and was forced to live a different life. While Drew was an angel and did right by Fletcher, he still had to go through the feeling of not being wanted or loved. He was starting to understand the barriers and walls that his boyfriend sometimes held up.

Learning that Fletcher was from New York wasn't so much a surprise. There were certain times that Xavier had picked up on an accent but didn't really think much of it. He continued massaging his boyfriend's back as his gaze remained fixated on Fletcher's eyes. When he had mentioned that he had run into Gerry, Xavier frowned and shook his head. He couldn't imagine what that encounter was like. "You wanting to be here as a child does make sense. This is what you knew and no matter how terrible your parents made you feel, they were still your parents and at that age, there was some part of you that wanted to belong to them. Also, this was your life. I'm sorry that this all happened to you but I'm so glad that Drew had the patience and love to give that they did not."

"That was all you really needed at that time. Like you said, you were like most kids full of energy and wanting to do things. None of that was your fault. I empathize with them maybe feeling older or too old to do it but that's life. There were other ways to go about things and you were the child not them. However they wanted to go about it, they didn't handle things the way a parent should. You didn't deserve that. You got a little surprise with Phoebe and you are about the age your parents were when they had you and you stepped up for that baby by yourself. I know you have a giant village behind you but you made that decision on your own. That's what I mean by that. You have given Phoebe a chance and that makes you --you're not your parent's child. Whatever your father said to you or tried to tell you, if it was negative which by the looks of things, it was--well then...fuck him. He has no right to come into your life so many years later and try to fuck you over." He kept massaging his back. "Do you want me to go saran wrap his toilet? I can change your mom's shampoo and add Nair or something?" He sighed. "Tell your inner child that you're incredibly loved and wanted."

FLETCHER

When Fletcher paused to let Xavier take everything in, he wasn't the least bit surprised to find his boyfriend not only empathizing but coming to his defense for the way he was brought up and how his parents went about things. He gave Xavier's thigh a gentle squeeze, and then a low, "Sweetheart," as Xavier kept going. And then he turned his head to look directly at the younger man. "X." Taking a beat, he raised a hand to the back of Xavier's neck and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Thank you. I know. And believe me when I say that I've already worked through a lot of this. Drew's a great mentor, plus I've gone to therapy before and I've had a long time to come to terms with how things turned out. Yeah, once in a while I get worried when I think about how I'm forty and Phoebe's not even one yet, but it's okay. Deep down, I know it's okay and that if I fear anything now--you know, aside from that typical parental fear of fucking up your kid--I only worry about missing important things later in her life. But I'm making the best of all the time I have with her. I know damn well I'm not and never will be anything like my parents when it comes to her or any kids in my life. Trust me, if you had seen me when I found out April was having my baby and nearly cost me the chance at being her father?" He shook his head and resumed looked to the floor. "It wasn't a pretty side of me. I'll leave it at that."

He reached for Xavier's hand that had been rubbing his back and held it in his instead. "I don't want you to do anything to them. I don't even want you to meet them. It'd be an honor they don't deserve." Fletcher squeezed his boyfriend's hand and said, "I just wanted you to know what I hadn't told you before, and what I don't really tell anyone for that matter, so you'd understand why I was pissed because yeah, I did run into Gerry just before coming back up here." After another deep breath, he went on with a sense of finality in his voice. "He came by to be nosy among other things. Nothing innocent or polite about it either, and without flattening him on the sidewalk, I told him he can go back to staying the hell outta my life." He wasn't interested in giving a play-by-play of the conversation with Gerry or what the older man said and almost said since it was what pissed him off to begin with.

"Thinking about you, Drew and the kids was what kept me from probably getting arrested on battery charges this morning," he admitted, giving Xavier a sideways glance to take in his reaction to this admission. And then he reminded, "I just... wanted you to know what happened. And to say sorry for the delay with breakfast. I was planning to be back before you woke up. Let the coffee smell wake you and all."

XAVIER

He could hear Fletcher saying his name probably in an attempt to get Xavier to stop fretting and to listen to him but Xavier was too wound up. In fact, the more he built himself up, the more he wanted to reassure his boyfriend that was amazing and all the positive things he had learned about him over the last couple of months. It had felt like someone had pushed a knife into him when he heard of what Fletcher had dealt with as a child. "yeah?" He was just getting started but listened as Fletcher continued. "That's good." It gave him some satisfaction hearing that his boyfriend had already worked through a lot of the trauma inflicted on him. "Well, I'll just have to keep you healthy so you don't miss too much and you're here for all the important things." In his mind, there was a strong emphasis on him being one of the people to keep Fletcher healthy for his daughter. Xavier didn't mean to be presumptuous. If anything, he was being hopeful. He rubbed the back of Fletcher's head, letting his fingers run through his dark tresses. "You two are so lucky to have each other. I am so glad you both got the chance to be in each other's life." He didn't want to think of Fletcher being in a state that wasn't a 'pretty side'. Xavier had become extremely protective.

When Fletcher took his hand, he smiled softly, chuckling a bit at the thought of doing anything to Fletcher's parents. "Just say the word, okay?" He'd never hurt anyone. Most people would probably say he's incapable but thinking of Fletcher having to deal with his parents again especially knowing his father was unkind made his blood boil. "Thank you for telling me. No secrets here, okay? Whatever you or I have to say to each other, we should feel like we can in a non-toxic, loving way." He squeezed Fletcher's hand lovingly. Hearing that thinking about him, Drew and the kids anchored Fletcher made him smile again. "Well, good. We need you here and now in some orange jumpsuit. It'll drown you out..." Xavier chuckled, moving his hand over his face. "Nothing to be sorry about. That's incredibly sweet of you though." He leaned in to kiss Fletcher's cheek. "I am so proud of you for not decking your dad and for being you and for telling me all of this. I know it wasn't easy."

FLETCHER

He gave a smile that didn't touch his eyes when Xavier spoke of keeping him healthy. He'd been working on it already with smoking less weed to be mentally present, and drinking less. And although it wasn't as frequent as before, he was back to going to the gym. His boyfriend's support meant a lot to him. He murmured a, "Thank you, sugar," to himself and lowered his head to rest on Xavier's shoulder.

"Sure thing," Fletcher told him, shutting his eyes as more calm came over him, the more he stayed close to Xavier. "No secrets," he echoed. "Like I said, it just wasn't something I talk about. Drew and I don't even talk about them together anymore. But you know all the significant parts of my life now." His eyes opened as he let out a small, short chuckle. "No, I won't land myself in an orange jumpsuit. Not on purpose anyway." Fletcher lifted his head in time to receive Xavier's kiss to his cheek. In turn, he lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of his boyfriend's. "It wasn't. But you needed to know. I love you for listening, and for caring so much about me." As he tenderly released Xavier's hand, he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and held him tightly. He loved him for so much more than that but in the moment, it was what he'd said.

XAVIER

Xavier loved the new nickname. Sugar and sweetheart were words he loved hearing it come from Fletcher. Gently, he placed his head on top of his boyfriend's and smiled. "Anytime, mon cher. I'll take care of you." He'd be sure never to let Fletcher down in that promise.

"I know. It was just not relevant. Drew probably wants there to be some sort of relationship between you and your parents. Thank you for telling me. And good! I'll bail you out every time but let's not." Xavier teased with a soft chuckle. He leaned into the embrace and wrapped his arm around Fletcher, attacking the side of his face with a few kisses. "You can't blame me. I'm a sucker for you." He murmured against Fletcher's cheek and then pressed his forehead against his temple. "You're so special, Fletcher." Xavier didn't have to say the rest of the sentence but he hated that his boyfriend's parents couldn't see that. 'Want me to get your bagel ready?" He kissed Fletcher's temple. "Are you originally from Manhattan or somewhere else?"

FLETCHER

"I'm sure Drew wants that. He's a good person like that but it's not going to happen. And I'm gonna talk with him about not sharing all my business with them anymore. I used to not care but after today, no more." He knew Drew would respect those wishes, especially if Fletcher repeated even half of what little Gerry had said. He smiled a little more genuinely for the first time since returning to the hotel room, thanks to Xavier's words and affection. He held his boyfriend for a while longer and then drew back, kissing him on the lips for a moment. And then he pulled apart with a small shake of his head, "It’s okay, I got it. Actually, why don't you tell me what you want and I'll bring you breakfast in bed?" He pecked Xavier's lips and then stood, grabbing the coffee cups to heat up for the both of them. As he fiddled with the microwave, he said, "I was born in The Bronx and my parents moved to Manhattan when I was two." He opened the bagel bag and said, "There's just plain cream cheese and then with the bagels, I got plain, everything, sesame and blueberry."

XAVIER

“He really is a good person.” Xavier agreed with that statement knowing that Drew probably wanted to aid in Fletcher and his parents talking again. “But I am proud of you for wanting to place some boundaries and I know Drew will be receptive and understanding of that. Quite frankly, your parents don’t deserve knowing the happenings in your life especially with your dad trying to come at you.” He returned the kiss and was glad to see Fletcher come down from his initial anger. Gerry didn’t deserve an ounce of it. When his boyfriend stood up to prepare the bagels and heat up their coffee, he smiled, pushing himself back on the bed. “Ooo la la breakfast in bed. And they say romance is dead.” He chuckled, and reached for Fletcher’s hand to kiss it before he went off to get breakfast ready. Xavier listened as he spoke with a small smile on his face. “The Bronx! Ohhh that explains the toughness. I went to the Bronx last year for a show and it the crowd was tough but in the end they had the best laughs, I swear.” Xavier listened to the options with a grin. “Sesame please. What is your favorite kind of bagel?”

FLETCHER

Fletcher knew Drew had good intentions but if Fletcher had the chance to do a trip like this again, he'd have to make it clear to Drew that he didn't want or need either of his parents seeking him out in the city. He'd nodded in agreement with Xavier and had taken another deep breath before kissing him, quietly thankful that the anger he'd felt had dissipated. Xavier had a lot to do with that, he was sure of it. He'd gotten up but paused and looked back at his boyfriend just as his hand was kissed. His eyes said the 'thank you' that his mouth didn't need to voice, just before he resumed readying their breakfast. He chuckled at Xavier's reaction to him being born in The Bronx and joked, "Yeah that's it. They baptize all the babies born there in toughness water, found only in that borough." Taking out the plastic knife and the semi-sliced sesame bagel, he sliced it in half all the way and then opened one of the cream cheese cups to smear on both halves. "Damn, yeah that doesn't surprise me that you won the crowd over in the end. Or were you at that show as part of the audience?" He lightly closed the two halves back on themselves and left it on a napkin while returning to the microwave to take out their coffees and fix them how they both liked theirs. As he did so, he said, "No surprise here but I'm an equal everything bagel fan. Best of all worlds." He set his coffee down in exchange for Xavier's bagel and napkin, and walked over to the bed to present him with his breakfast. "So I guess we'll both be guilty of getting seeds in the bed." He smirked a little and went back to fix up his own bagel and then join his boyfriend, sitting next to and facing him--one leg bent and resting on the bed while the other hung over the edge--and knowing that any mess would be easy enough to brush away or shake off of the bed linens.

XAVIER

Xavier watched as Fletcher prepared his bagel, chuckling at the thought of babies being baptized in 'toughness water'. "I wouldn't be surprised if any of that were true but it all makes sense now. Look at me dating a Bronx boy. What I've learned in my time in New York City is that you're not really from New York if you're from upstate. Bronx people are tough as nails and they have the best Dominican food. Brooklyn is great for authentic Italian and people who think they're tough but are sawft." Xavier chuckled as he tried to imitate the accent. "Queens people are pretty friendly and if you want a good diner, that's where to go and finally Manhattan has some fancy folks who love a good slice of pizza and wine. And we don't talk about Staten Island. Did I get that right?" Xavier smirked and then nodded at Fletcher's question. "I was doing some standup. It's been a long time since I've done any but when I had the chance, it was a lot of fun." He listened to Fletcher with a smile on his face. "Good choice. I like them all but Sesame Seed is a fan fave. Oh, why thank you, sir." He grinned at Fletcher as he took the bagel from him. "It's alright. When do we get to do this anyway?" He took a bite of his bagel and chewed as he happily sat beside his boyfriend. He sincerely hoped that his run-in with his father hadn't ruined the good time they were having. "Mm, this is so good. Nothing like a New York bagel that's for sure."

FLETCHER

Fletcher listened to Xavier while he worked on the breakfast. He chuckled a little bit, "Yeah, I mean geographical stereotypes are a thing. But they exist because there's some level of truth to them." Once he had his own bagel together, he grabbed his coffee, added several packets of sugar and a couple cream cups, and then brought his breakfast over. He sipped on the hot beverage after making himself comfortable, and then said, "Yeah we never do. But we should start trying to make it a thing. Maybe on Sundays." Phoebe wouldn't allow herself to be left out but if they were up early enough, they could possibly get away with a cup of coffee in bed together. He set the cup down on the ground beside the bed and then bit into his bagel, feeling like he was biting into an old memory. He enjoyed it and the bites that followed, and then licked a couple of poppyseeds from his lips. "This is nice." He eyed Xavier for a moment and then leaned forward to peck his lips a few times. "Mmm, and so's this." Stealing one more kiss, he sat up a little straighter and took another bite of his bagel. "Thank you for being the best boyfriend in this relationship." He winked, knowing Xavier was likely to argue and then picked up his cup for another drink of his coffee.

XAVIER

"Amen to that." He licked the cream cheese off his thumb and took another bite of his bagel. Xavier set the bagel down on his thigh and reached for his coffee, blowing on the lid and smiling at the warmth sitting between his hands. "I like that idea. Making Sunday morning breakfasts our thing sounds nice. That would mean more sleepovers which I'm always down for." He smiled at his boyfriend. They had already discussed seeing each other more especially now that Xavier would have more time. They were both going to work on accessibility for their children so they could do a week on and off here and there at each other's home and he loved the idea. Xavier chuckled at the kisses and licked his lips after Fletcher stole another kiss. He then leaned in for another, swiping his tongue against the corner of his boyfriend's lips. "You missed a seed." He sat up and reached for his bagel again. "Don't start that..." His smile grew as he pulled a piece off to toss into his mouth. "You just want to fight so you can have your way with me after. I'm on to you." He then took another sip of his coffee. "Not that I'm complaining but I think we're both pretty solid in this relationship mister let me surprise Xavier with a trip to New York City." He set the half of the bagel that was left and his coffee on the end table and shifted to face Fletcher. "And knowing what I know now about you and your past and the memories that come with being here and you still came here to see me and surprise me to not only see me but tell me you love me..." His gaze lingered. "Well, I'm sprung. If that wasn't already obvious. I could do this for a very, very long time."

FLETCHER

"More sleepovers was always the plan, right?" Fletcher took another bite of his bagel while thinking about them alternating time in each other's homes. He thought about Drew and how a change of environment was good for him. He had his physical therapy appointments, and he was extremely fond of his garden. Fletcher would make sure Drew still got to come back to tend to it whenever they were staying at Xavier's. It might not be a long term plan but it was what he and Xavier were going to explore soon. After a few kisses, he'd taken another bite of bagel and lightly smirked as Xavier came close to his face, expecting another kiss and ending up pleasantly surprised by the quick lick. He smiled and sipped his coffee, only to raise both of his brows in faix innocence, "What?" only to listen to Xavier call him out on exactly what he was doing. "I'm just telling the truth is all. Sheesh. Bite a guy's head off why don't ya?" He grinned a little and set his cup back down, along with what was left of his bagel. After seeing that Xavier's hands were free, Fletcher drew his leg up on the bed and shifted so that he was situated in between Xavier's legs. "I had a compelling reason for coming here. You were more than enough for me to return." His eyes were on his boyfriend's and his hands were running up Xavier's arms as he spoke to him. And then he kissed his forehead and trailed slow kisses to his jaw, neck and throat as he muttered, "Now when you say you could do 'this' for a very, very long time..." Fletcher nuzzled his love's neck while guiding his hands back down Xavier's arms and threading their fingers together. And then he raised his head to meet his gaze again. "Tell me what you mean, exactly."

XAVIER

"Sure are." Xavier was looking forward to this new step in his relationship with Fletcher. Being home meant spending more time with his kids and friends and hopefully his family in London too. He was excited about seeing his boyfriend more often and getting to know Drew better. Xavier had already promised to help Drew with his garden whenever he had a chance and he also wanted to get the opportunity to watch Phoebe grow. It would be an adjustment but he knew it would be for the best for everyone. His kids already adored Fletcher, Emiliana, and Drew and Xavier wanted to see more of that flourish. He grinned at his boyfriend's coy behavior, wondering if he'd ever stop falling in love with him. Was it a perpetual thing? Would he always find new reasons why he keeps falling for the other? Was that the norm when it came to being in love? It sounded almost childish in his head but the questions still existed. He'd never felt this way not even for people he swore he'd marry as a teenager. Everything seemed like child's play in comparison. It was exhilarating and quite frightening. He'd do it all for Fletcher. He'd fight his demons, yell at his probably very terrifying father, help raise his child, and install every necessary accessible feature for Drew in his house and in the Van Hall's. He'd do it out of love and appreciation. He'd fallen harder than he expected. "Just being observant." Xavier laughed but his eyes remained softened as his gaze fixated on his boyfriend. Fletcher's gentle touches and kisses relaxed him, turning him into a puddle of putty. A content sigh escaped his lips as he enjoyed the kisses against his skin. Xavier closed his eyes as he smiled when he felt Fletcher's lips against his throat. It was one his weak spots and his boyfriend knew that. He'd already lost his train of thought but recovered the moment Fletcher looked up at him again. He laughed, bowing his head bashfully before raising his gaze again. There were many ways he could answer such a simple question. "This. For starters, all of that." He couldn't help but laugh again at how little sense his answer made. "Everything. Us, this, life. I could do life with you for a very, very long time." Xavier took one hand so that he could cup Fletcher's face. His thumb grazed the grooves of his nose and then his cheekbones, settling at the apple of his cheeks. "Sleepovers, finding new places to fuck, making you laugh, making you happy. Taking away the bad shit and parking it elsewhere in return for a lot of good shit. You marking me with your bites and scratches and yes, tattoos." He leaned in to kiss him. "Waking up next to you, breakfast together, Drew telling me stories, the kids making fun of their very much in love dad, Phoebe laughing at my jokes that she doesn't understand. I think she thinks my face is just funny." He kissed Fletcher's temple and then nuzzled his face for a bit. "I don't want to do this with anyone else. I'm reaalll good here."

FLETCHER

A throaty chuckle rose from Fletcher when he heard Xavier's answer to his question. And he continued to listen to him. His words penetrated his heart and pumped it up to where it filled his rib cage. He rested into Xavier's hand on his cheek and met his kiss. The way Xavier described their relationship and their lives together--the way their families were melding so beautifully together really had been such an incredible thing. "Funny because I don't want you to do this with anyone else either." Grinning softly, Fletcher's arms slipped around Xavier to hold him close, and then his lips relaxed as he let out a content sigh. "I'm good here too. I love you so much, it's wild. And I love the life we're building together. Everything you said about us and our families? That's exactly how I feel. You, Winter and Henry make my life better. I know you all do that for Phoebe and Drew too. And I know Emiliana loves and adores all of you too." He kissed Xavier's shoulder and then lifted his head, loosening his hold a bit to meet Xavier's eyes again. "But I love and adore you the most. I don't have the poetic words that you do but I'm glad you kissed me that night at the gala. You put yourself on my mind from that night, on, and you planted yourself in my heart."

XAVIER

This closeness to Fletcher felt right. Xavier had always wanted this with someone even when he joked that he didn't before going on the island. He had admired his friend's relationships, seeing how happy everyone was and how they all supported one another. To have one of the only relationships that had failed out of his reality television stint stung and while he wasn't purposely looking for someone when he decided to kiss Fletcher, he was glad he did. Thinking back on it, he couldn't remember why he felt bold enough to do it. For whatever reason, it made sense. "Good. I'm yours for as long as you'll have and want me." Hearing that Fletcher loved him again and again and with such confidence and conviction made his heart soar. He felt mushy all over and was glad that he had succeeded at making Fletcher feel better. "I love the life we're building together too. I know it's been a short couple of months but it feels longer yet not. I love the feeling of being comfortable with you and still having the opportunity to learn new things about who you are. I end up falling in love with all of you and I've never felt that way about anyone before." He laughed softly and shook his head before pulling his boyfriend in for a tight embrace. "You say I'm the poetic one. I told you, I think I've had a crush on you for a while now probably before that boo bash if I'm being honest. I don't know what gave me any courage to kiss you that night but I had to. I'm glad I did too." He pulled back and smiled at Fletcher. "I said for a very, very long time. I mean forever. I know that's a scary thought but that's how I feel and hopefully, that's how it'll be." It was a tiny promise that could be translated into many things. Xavier wasn't trying to frighten Fletcher or talk about major future life plans but he simply wanted it known that no one else could exist for him or take Fletcher's place.

FLETCHER

Fletcher listened to Xavier some more and gladly returned the embrace when he was pulled toward his boyfriend. Loving his daughter and his uncle had been one thing. Falling in love with Winter and Henry had been special. But finding love with Xavier was something else indescribable, even though he'd tried putting it to words just a moment ago. While they were close, he'd kissed him on his neck again and then met his eyes again once Xavier pulled back. He smiled lazily as he told him, "And you're still the poetic one here. One of these days I'm gonna pay you a compliment or just say something flat out true about you and you'll accept it for the truth that is is." He stole a peck on Xavier's lips and then listened to him some more. His heart leapt in his chest while he threaded their fingers together. His gaxr turned languid as he echoed, "Hopefully, that's how it'll be." He gently squeezed their interlocked fingers and leaned in to rest his forehead to his boyfriend's for a bit of comfortable silence. When he spoke up again, Fletcher had tilted his head and nuzzled his nose along Xavier's cheek. "I hope you're done with your breakfast because I really want to make love to you right now." They'd done tons of fucking the previous day (and night) but he wanted to go slow and be more attentive to Xavier's entire body than usual.

XAVIER

He never wanted to hear of anyone hurting Fletcher again and while that was a naive thought, Xavier knew that just meant he was hopelessly in love with his boyfriend. Knowing that the conversation that had started sour was turning into something positive and loving gave him relief and made him happy. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Fletcher everywhere, thank him a million times for surprising him in New York City, for getting them breakfast, for letting Xavier in. That meant more to him than anything else. "I do accept it I just want it known that you're also those things and I love you for it." So much had changed for him in a year. He had left a toxic relationship, had fostered the most incredible children, and was now promising forever to a man he had kissed impulsively one night. He closed his eyes when Fletcher nuzzled his cheek and he smiled softly at the intimacy. He wondered for a few seconds what that'd be like. Making love sounded so beautiful coming from his lips. "I'm done with breakfast." He grinned at his boyfriend, having searched for something sweet or adorable to say and coming up with nothing. Instead, Xavier leaned in to kiss Fletcher's cheek before murmuring. "I love you." He kissed his earlobe and then whispered, "Je t'aime" before cupping his face and pulling him down on top of him.

[c0rpsel0v3r]

I've been looking at the incest/fauxcest tag recently... very interesting... I'm also pretty sure that Tumblr was designed to give me new kinks every other month.

Now I cant imagine what it would be like if they called me their big brother. Not in the sweet way but in the "I'm learning from you because you're the one I look up to"-way. Only that what they will learn from me is not how to paint or clean, but how to commit murder and dissect them.

[kyonite]

not reblogging this post because it's absolute dog shit but I don't want to be mean to someone in the tags of their own post. but I am begging some of y'all to understand that filmic language such as "camera movements" and "cuts" is just another more visual way to describe what our brains do when we picture scenes.

when I'm reading I do picture hard cutaways to someone's eyes when the paragraphs surrounding them are split up.

That's why they're fuckin split up like that.

To draw attention to it.

Like bro you can be annoyed with ppl who don't read long paragraphs all you want, that's fine, but ignoring the very basics of "some people imagine pictures when they read or write and the use of paragraph breaks is often important in the timing of the scenes in their head" is fucking stupid.

been seeing a lot of weird anti-movie sentiment on this site recently and it's like babe what happened. You used to love movie. Did you goncharov too hard? did you accidentally build it up in your head as a bourgeoisie art form and now you feel that hating movies is praxis??

would love to know my mutuals thoughts on this!

[britneyshakespeare]

you know at the end of the day today i was chatting w some other paras. i was a special ed para for a seventh grader today that's what i did. and the last block for them is just learning center and it's chill and it's friday and some of the kids were making pizza and no one was really doing anything or stressed or bothered so the kids and the adults just have various little shooting-the-breeze sessions although im usually not that active in these bc Im Shy, And A Substitute so i feel very out of place a lot of the time. but anyway i had never really talked much w either of the paras i was with today and we struck up a conversation about some stuff and one of them says to me "you know just so you know i LOVE your hair" and she turns to the other para and she's like "isnt it gorgeous? dont you love her hair?"

and i kinda blushed and said thank you a couple of times and looked down bc that's what i do when i receive a sincere-sounding compliment unexpectedly. and then i chatted a little more before i kinda drifted out of the conversation and opened my book and after a page or two one of them asked me about what i was reading (it's Song of the Cell: An Exploration of Medicine and the New Human by Siddhartha Mukherjee if you were wondering and i started it a few days ago). so i told them a bit about it and started chatting again on the topic of reading and i guess i was just naturally smiling and the same one who complimented my hair said "look at those dimples. i just can't w you"

[gumixin]

Y´all...

Eventually LAD: Gaiden is just a game that didn't even come out and has a very high price, not to mention that taxes double the price. I hate to admit it but sometimes it's really hard to live in Latin America. It made me think that my country, Argentina, is a place with people so stupid that they vote for presidents who steal in your face. A simple game can't turn out like that. And no, I am not angry just because of that, but because even though we are rich in oil, there are times when there is simply no more oil or there is a terrible devaluation. Or sometimes you just have to buy an exact amount of things because otherwise they are completely out of the markets, it's amazing. It is unbelievable that there are people who work their asses off every day and barely make ends meet. And these unconscious politicians are the ones who steal from the working people, it's just disgusting. But when you look outside of this beautiful country, you feel that nothing is happening, that all the problems fade away for some reason. I would like to stay here forever, but sometimes I feel it's too much even for me, I don't know anymore.

[maiteo]

if mikel doesn’t plan on utilizing fábio and all his talents, leaving him to stay on the bench or end up at some bum ass club then….🤐

[orchid3a]

꒰ I'D NEVER LEAVE ꒱ ⋮ RIN ITOSHI → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]: fem!reader ( can be read as gn!reader) x rin itoshi, relationship talks, mention of open relationship, angst, undertones of smut, fluff, hurt and comfort. // syn. | Rin never liked the idea of piling up unfinished business, and so he chased you with no expectations. wc -1kish // back to blog navigation.

“Do that again” Rin murmured, keeping his teal irises fixated on yours. Your lips slightly parted as your hand recoiled by mere a graze against his cheeks, as if you were about to get electrocuted at the exposure of his skin but Rin was quick to grab them halfway. He put it back where it was, on his cheeks. “Do that again,” He repeated his plea as he tucked your palm back onto his cheek. “please!” he whispered this time. You pressed your lips together before caressing his cheeks, rubbing your thumb underneath his eye and then moving on to his pulp lips. His eyes are a little puffy and reddish. Had he seriously been crying?

Rin tried to keep up the eye contact with you but the sensation of your warm manicured scented fingertips upon his lips lulled him to close his eyes shut and curl into the cavity of your palm. He turned a little, kissing your palm and then looking at you through the corner of his eyes. It is snowing outside. The world is being painted in white as the dead-cold silence blankets nature, the bare branches, the flowers, the river, and the buildings while Rin's touch wraps around you, like a protective layer. His touch is ice-cold but his eyes seem to tell otherwise. 

This is wrong. This is wrong in so many ways because the last time both of you did something that none of you should. And this time it is happening again. Maybe it will escalate into something more but that still would not change the fact that what you are doing is wrong. To him and to you too. Rin grabbed your other hand pulling you close. He is impatient as always. Now his tongue is swiping inside your mouth while your lips are wrapped around his.

“I never loved you. You were a nice little fuck toy, that’s it.” Rin’s poison-laced voice echoed at the back of your head.

You winced feeling his teeth dig into your skin along the column of your neck. His hands are underneath your top, tracing the bones of your back. “We can't do this”, you exclaim pushing him away, his hot breath still lingering on your face, his arms are still under your top but it has now slewed down to your waist. His grip is intact.

 “Why not?” he asks as if he was not the one to denote first and break the rules. It was not a surprise that he would be the first one to break rules but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that he would actually end up using the safe word to take a time out from this open relationship and have a talk with you. 

Now he is on the verge of doing something that he might regret later. But that is not the worst part of all these; if he did regret then he would not blame you, he would blame himself and wallow in self-pity. It is something that will eventually come back chasing you, not now but eventually because no tide is created by the sea alone, there is always an eclipse involved.

“Because I don't wanna get hurt” You take a deep breath swallowing your tears at the pit of your stomach. 

“What makes you think I’m gonna hurt you?” Rin is now holding your hands, so tenderly, so cautiously; it is almost as if a baby bird is trying to fly for the first time.

“Because the last time,” You sniffle and bow your face down to hide your tears. “Because last time you said something awful.”  Looking at him again you exhaled thoroughly. “It hurt me.” You added.

There is a tug at the corner of his lips and as you look at him in awe it grows into a smile. “y/n, I have lied to you so many times. Small lies, like how you do when you don’t wanna go out with your friends but spend time with me instead? Saying you are under the weather?” You chuckle at his claim, tears rolling down your cheeks as a deviated outcome of suppressing it back. “I lied. I lied when I said I never loved you. Couldn’t you tell?” He adds and then you two laugh in sync because it is silly.

It is silly because Rin was not your fling, Rin was not even to fit in the sultry label of friends with benefits. He was different somehow. He would not contact you for weeks and then come to your home with snacks and drinks unannounced, talk, and unload himself to lighten himself up. And you? You did the same. There was rarely anything physical but when there was it was so intense that you saw the stars even being laid out on the kitchen counter. It felt vulnerable to be so exposed and at the same time, exhilarating too.

So, what when wrong? What made you hurt so bad and him use the safe word?

A kiss. The answer is a kiss. Because kissing is so intimate yet tempting that Rin thought it would be fun have one rule in this time bomb of open relationship, that is, to not kiss, never on the lips. 

“Can i kiss you?” Rin asks for permission this time. Last time he kissed in a room full of people. It was so scandalous and so hungry, hungry for love. 

You laugh bowing your head down and looking up saying, “You can.”

And then he kissed you. On the lips, softly grazing his on yours, tenderly sucking, fingers interlacing with yours as he pushed you down on the bed. You blink, you pant and you huff as he undressed himself hovering on top of you. There is an awful headache hammering onto your temples but it soon went away as he kissed from up the crook of your neck, to the column, then onto your cleavage, down to your navel. “That is a hell lot of kissing,” you whispered.

“It sure is,” Rin admitted before focusing on your skin again.

@orchid3a

@angelshub

[laterreurofficial]

LT Doodle Stream Recap/Questions!

(Part 1/Part 2)

Hello everyone! Wisteriasymphony here. Yesterday the LT hivemind had the wonderful experience of our first doodle stream together!

For the purposes of cataloging all of the questions we answered on our stream (because somebody doesn't know how streaming works yet *COUGH COUGH*), I'm going to be answering them all here!

La Terreur takes place in 2002, and the events of the timeline last about a year. Of course, it's a retrofuturistic cyberpunk-y 2002, which explains later developments like the alliance ring and so on.

They're the same au! Miracle Exposure has just been a tag Silu has used to categorize talking about the effects of the miraculous, but it all happens within LT.

Hawkmoth is already a pretty solid design as is. Shadowmoth and Monarch will probably get overhauls later on, but why fix what isn't broken? Hawkmoth is already just the right amount of gross and creepy and fancy and bald, so no need to revamp that.

The consensus to far is that Felix arrived before the quarantine was instated, but he could easily have bribed officials into letting him into Paris if he needed to. The quarantine is mostly to keep people in, and if some idiot with a death wish high-paying member of the british aristocracy is willing to give money to a dying city just for a ticket in, then why wouldn't they let him?

@gaussiansphere put it quite nicely in the stream when he said that the heroes aren't trapped in Paris physically, but mentally. There's nothing theoretically stopping Ladybug from blowing a hole in the defenses of Paris and going on the run, but she has a moral obligation to protect her city. Everyone else feels roughly the same way, though we did discuss the idea of having the concept of migration fit Max better by virtue of his big goals in life involving getting out of Paris.

Also, the miraculous will likely be passed out differently. We're not following exact episodes, only storylines.

On a similar note....

Ladybug will probably alternate who she gives all of the minor miraculous to multiple times over the course of the story. She would find it ridiculous to pass them out to people "for keeps", as @sillysiluriforme put it, and before a certain point in the story will favor adult holders over teen holders. (Not saying why this changes though heehee, spoilers.)

MUCHAS GRACIAS!!!!!!!!!! Los ships no son un foco de La Terreur, pero.. Adrigaminette 100% mejor del mundo JAJAJAJA XP. de lo contrario es lo mismo que el canon.

Opinions de los kwamis hacia sus portadores es q los ven como niños. Son indiferentes a la humanidad en realidad. Los kwamis también los vicios q usan sus portadores para obtener. (Adrien huele a tabaco Y queso apestoso :/ Marinette no se afectada porque Tikki quiere el sabores dulces en su vaporizador).

#wispanol arc hehe. also YES you saw that right English audience, the kwamis are smokers. Marinette has to ask Luka's bandmates for vapes because the closest bodega to her house is run by a sweet Chinese grandma who her mom likes talking to, so if she bought from there she'd be absolutely screwed. Adrien just buys all of the tobacco as Chat, though.

We're not planning on having Aspik show up in LT, at least as far as we have planned. If he did, however, his rat eating desire would definitely go through the roof. He'd probably try and time his rat-eating specifically for when he's Chat Noir, just to make things easier for himself. (Until he eats one as Adrien by accident and has to live with the mental baggage for the rest of his miserable little life...)

Well.. there are a lot of characters that really don't need redesigns! Or where redesigns would be extremely minimal. Marinette's dad only really needs to get proportional legs and then that's it, and the same philosophy extends to most of the other minor characters.

Here are some of @clemnoir's designs for the rest of the class, though!

In fact, her lovely annotations somewhat answer another question we received....

We haven't figured out everyone yet, but the scholarships group so far is: Kim, Max, Ivan, Rose, Nathaniel, and Mylene. Adrien, Chloe, Sabrina, Alix, and Marinette are all paid tuition.

There could be! The ancient miraculous are indeed destroyed, much like the infinite amount of others like them, Bearinette and Lambdrien are just explorations of what it would be like if they hadn't been. The bear and lamb miraculous are not canon to LT, nor would any future ancients be. If we get any good ideas, you'll see them.

[wis is biting all of her fingers to prevent herself from talking about the coyote....]

The big issue Marinette has with being Multimouse is that she's no longer respected as the leader, at least as much as she's used to. Because she sees Ladybug as more of a responsibility than fun superpowers, her side effects are more psychological by consequence, whereas Adrien's are more physical. She also feels some sense of jealousy towards Scarabella, as well as general insecurity over not being the leader when she's Multimouse... but despite this she continues to use the Mouse Miraculous more often than in canon just for the sake of "training" Alya.

Silu dice muchas gracias!!!!! ...No conocen sus identidades fsgdss. Exposición al milagros del raton causa disocociación, duplicación no literal para Marinette jajaj. (Pero, no puedo decir si dos Marinettes aparecen en LT..... tal vez, tal vez no? huummmm)

Tambien, ellos comiendo ratones en privado. Nadie los trae en su almuerzo. Todos ellos tratan con sus síntomas en secreto.

Violence and misery and horror and class dynamics. I'll get into it more in Part 2, but characters' relationships to power is a huge part of this AU, both of the magical and non-magical variety.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Patience

Alexia putellas x equestrian!reader

Warnings:rushed shitty writing, not proofread

“Vamos!” You shout arms outstretched above your head in relief and excitement as you watch the Spanish girls dance around the pitch hugging one another and thanking their Japanese opponents, your mamí wraps her arms around you tightly pulling you into a hug “Oh, Potro, eso fue increíble” You let out a small laugh hugging her tighter “Conozco a Mamí y esto es solo el principio, VAMOS ESPAÑA”

You smile watching the team happily talk to each other about the match that has just taken place before deciding to call it a night, you had one final training session before you would have to take part in the first round of the eventing on the 27th.

Your least favourite event was dressage, you hated how meticulous it was how precise, everything had to be on point, one wrong stride and you would be falling down the table, the bid for a medal slipping further away. But dressage was like a dance, a dance where your dance partner is your horse Once fuertes, you lead and he follows in time to the music.

When it’s over and you see your name sitting in first place and you don’t seem to dislike it as much, you are happy with your dance partner, with the precision of his hooves through the sand his strides perfect, of course it is you who cause the fault only a slight one but still you have raked up 16.00 penalty points.

1.5 penalty points less than your closest opponent but it’s not enough.

“Lo siento, mamá, debería haber sido mejor” you fall into your mothers arms “Potro, it was perfect, parada being so hard on yourself, tienes razón donde necesitas ser un potro, llegarás allí, solo espera.” All you can do is let out a grunt as you push off her and turn to follow your grooming team.

You don’t get a day to relax, to process your recent accomplishments instead your sitting on Once fuertes in a forest in Versailles getting ready to take part in the cross country trail for both Spain and yourself just like yesterday.

Only today is not a dance, today is a race against a nine point two minute clock and twenty eight fences/obstacles in the way. Once fuertes is big at 17.5 hands these obstacles will be nothing for him the time trial a minuscule thought for such a long strided horse like him, but it’s up to you to get him there.

You do so perfectly, you trust in him to leap over every obstacle and land ready to race towards the next and he does it without hesitation yet you don’t stop talking to him pushing him forward edging him to go faster to jump higher and it pays off. You hold your lead. You’re still number one, still in position for gold. Your first gold.

Your happier this time around, your mother can tell just from the way your hunched over Once talking to him happily “ Oh, mi chico, eres increíble, eres perfecto, podríamos hacer esto, yo y tú, once, yo y podrías ganarlo todo, oh, ese es mi sueño para ti y para mí.” Your mother pats Once happily “Bien hecho once, gracias por cuidar de mi potro” you beam down at your mother before swinging your leg over and jumping down from the thoroughbred laughing happily as your mamí pulls you in for another bone crushing hug “Dios mío, mamá I think we might actually have a chance, we might actually place on the podium me and Spain, me and Once.” Tears spring to your mothers eyes, happy tears at your growing excitement, at your accomplishments so far “I don’t think you’ll just place Potro, you will win it all, you and España and Once, you will win the gold.” You shake your head not wanting to get your hopes up just yet “Paciencia, es todo lo que tengo en este deporte.” Your mother squeezed your arms before letting you stand back as you got ready to follow your groomers again “you sound just like your Papá.”

It’s not over, far from it, you still have the eventing show jumping tomorrow, the team final and the individual qualifiers but tonight you can relax, tonight you get to watch La Rojas face off against Nigeria, tonight you get to focus back on a different race for a podium and your happy to get to switch off even just for an hour.

You sit happily in the Olympic village with your team around a table as you watch the girls battle it out, fighting for a point that never seems to come. “Uhh, no van a anotar, quiero decir, vamos, quedan diez minutos.” Your teammate Carlos shakes his head, you simply smile and shake your head “Paciencia Carlos, they will strike when they are good and ready. She will strike when she is good and ready.” The team laugh at your faith in the Spanish girls, your faith in your favourite player La Reina herself, but it is you who is laughing five minutes later when Alexia scores the only goal of the match “Mira, te lo dije, when she is good and ready.”

You look out at the castle the next morning getting ready to walk the course with your teammates insuring you know your route, your strides, when to push Once on more with your leg and when to let off, to losen the reins, this is it, you could win your first gold medal today with Spain, your first gold medal as an individual, you just have to be patient.

You must qualify in the top twenty five to reach the individual qualifiers, you must be in the top twenty five to win, you have to jump a clear round all while staying within the eighty second time period. Once has to stay calm, so you have to stay calm, Once must keep his strides precise, he can’t over stretch, he might knock a pole if he does, he might knock more than one and the penalties you have been working so hard to keep down could wrack up suddenly, but again your against the clock a time trial, you have to do this fast, he has to do this fast, you both have to do this fast and clean together, it’s the only way you will keep your spot.

And you do. You jump last for Spain, you jump clear for Spain, for your self, to qualify for the individual medal, not a single pole rocked within the cups and you stayed five seconds under the time limit, for Spain, for you and Once, you were perfect, he was perfect, now it’s a waiting game as the last five jumpers get ready to try and knock Spain off the gold position.

None of your other teammates scores are as perfect as yours but they aren’t the worst, not even middle, they are comfortably in the top twenty and so you stand in the stands to watch the final rider with bated breath.

Great Britain sit second, France sit third and with Tom McEwans for Great Britain four faults in his round he seals the deal on all three podium spots, you have done it, you’ve won a gold medal, Spain have won a gold medal, Once has won you both a gold medal and now you have to refocus to win your individual one.

Your jumping last out of the twenty five riders, you sit in first and you can’t do anything except watch how the riders ahead of you take this new course, their turns, their leg sheathed it’s on or off, how their horses react, you watch the screen as the names move up and down below the top four, the top four, four faults sit between you all, four faults is all it will take for you to drop off the podium altogether, for this to be all for nothing and as your time comes closer it seems to be the only thing swimming around your head.

But it clears, it clears as you swing your leg over Once and as your mamí squeezes your leg before turning to the thoroughbred “Enciérdala por mí, cuida a mi pequeño potro.”

Sixty seconds till your gold medal, sixty seconds till you hold a gold medal, till you and Once become Olympic champions sixty seconds and a clear round.

You don’t remember the course, you don’t remember starting the course, but the roar as Once touches the ground on the far side of the final fence, clear, two seconds under the time giving, clear, clear, he jumped clear, you jumped clear both of you together jumped clear, your an Olympic champion, Once is an Olympic champion, Spain are Olympic champions and all you can do is look towards the sky and shout.

You arrive back to the village beaming, two gold medals around your neck, a team and an individual, you won’t have time to celebrate it, not yet, the games aren’t over but for now you beam and let out quite thanks you’d as athletes pass you in the village congratulating you as they pass.

You freeze as a certain athlete stands in front of you “Guau, hace tres días y ya tienes dos medallas de oro, debes ser bueno.” Your frozen unable speak, unable to think, unable to breath. She’s gorgeous, she’s breathtaking and she’s standing right in front of you. “No, No not really.” She smiles holding out her hand to you “I’m Alexia.” You look at her hand before taking it gently, scared your hand might pass through hers “I-I am Y/n.” Alexia beams happily holding your hand for far longer than she expected but she thinks you’re gorgeous, that you’re breathtaking and so she doesn’t mind “I was going to get a go coffee, would you like to join me.” You nod before finding your words “Sí, me encantaría.”

You let out a laugh as Alexia tells you of her younger sister Alba stating that the only role she wanted in the Olympics was that of a WAG or singing in the opening ceremony.

You sit happily listening to her talk about her family, talks about them like you have known her and them forever, you want to ask about her father but decide that if she isn’t happy mentioning him to you, a complete stranger she met mere hours ago then you weren’t going to ask.

“I am here for Fútbol.” You nodded “Sí, I-I am a fan.” Alexia doesn’t react like you thought she would, her smile seems to grow “a fan, of Spain?, of Barcelona?, of me?.” You laugh “De todos ustedes, de España, de Barcelona de ustedes, la Reina- I have been in love with fútbol my entire life, I have been a culers my entire life, and I have been a fan of you since you started playing.” Alexia lets out a sigh, a content sigh. “That is good, because I don’t think I could give my phone number to a Real Madrid supporter.” You laugh again this time sliding your phone over to the older girl.

Alexia watch’s you as she types in her number, adding emojis to her name. “So you never told me what sport you’re so great at that you won both of your medals for.” You blush as the conversation turns to you, you were quite content listening to Alexia talk and now she had switched to you. “Ecuestre, this one is from the team eventing so Yo y otros tres ciclistas ganamos este.” You hold out your team gold medal for Alexia to inspect “Y entonces this one is my individual medal, but really I couldn’t have done it without Once.” You hold out your individual medal as Alexia’s eyebrows raise “what is your horses name.” You smile “Once fuertes” Alexia nods approving “eleven is a strong number alright.” You let out a giggle taking back your medals “so what does Once get.” You go to take your phone out to show her pictures of the thoroughbred “he gets a rosette, and carrots, lots of carrots.” Alexia let’s out a small oh “well that’s not fair.” You pause as you go to hand over your phone “what do you mean.” Alexia shrugs “well your job is easy, the horse does all the work, so shouldn’t he get a better prize.” You feel your face heat up and turn bright red from embarrassment, as you smile sheepishly putting your phone back in your pocket, you push your chair to get up from the table and Alexia can tell she’s said the wrong thing “Y/n.” You ignore her as you stand “Good luck for the rest of the games.” You leave immediately as Alexia shakes her head “Joder.”

Alexia tried texting you but your not answering and so she decides to see if you have any social media, with a quick google of your name Alexia feels her guilt increase ten fold “Y/n Ferré Balagueró dedicates her Olympic wins to her father.” “MIERDA”

[leclercsredhelmet]

New in the Paddock ✧ Franco Colapinto

A/N: Hello! Back with another blurb for you all, this time it’s Franco themed because I’m just so happy that one of my f2 faves is on the f1 grid! (I’m still so sad about Logan) anyways here’s New in the Paddock with a Hispanic reader! I hope you all enjoy reading this one <3 This was inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift!

“These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you”

Being back in Italy has you buzzing with happiness, it’s been quite a few years since you’ve been back in the country. Yesterday you’d spent the day sightseeing and doing light shopping in Milan. This is your first big job opportunity fresh out of university and you’re extremely excited for what lies ahead. Once your alarm rang you leapt out of bed and opened the curtains. Music plays from the phone that sits atop the dresser, as you pass by the window you smile at the crowd of Tifosi chanting and you notice Charles signing their things. Smiling, you walk towards your suitcase and take out the outfit you had laid out last night.

Heading to the bathroom you change into a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a white and blue embroidered vest paired with your usual gold jewelry and white sneakers. Applying the last touch-ups to your makeup you grab your brown Longchamp bag and check that all the contents are there before grabbing your passes and the room key from the dresser. Locking the door you head towards the elevator. Looking around the hotel lobby you notice the flurry of staff getting ready to head out. You spot some drivers heading out and want to ask for pictures but you’re nervous and want to remain professional.

Briefly, you catch a glance of Franco Colapinto as he passes by in front of you and he offers a small smile once you lock eyes. Shyly you smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Noticing your phone is starting to ring, you pick it up. Your mother’s face greets you on the other line with a proud smile. Smiling you lift the phone to an appropriate angle so she can see your face.

“Hola mi amor, ¿qué tal te va el primer día de trabajo?” she asks and you smile.

(Hi my love, how is your first day of work going?) “Hola ma, muy bien hasta ahora, estoy esperando a mis compañeros para tomar la guagua al circuito” you reply.

(Hi mom, very good so far, I’m waiting for my coworkers to take the car to the circuit)

“Bueno espero que todo te vaya muy bien y voy a estar al pendiente de las redes a ver si te veo entrevistando a alguien!” she beams and you giggle.

(I hope it goes very well and I’ll be tuning into social media to see if you interview someone!)

“Oye y no has visto al chico de Argentina que sustituye a Sargeant? (Oh, have you seen the young man from Argentina that’s substituting Sargeant?)

“Acabo de ver a Franco hace algunos segundos, no hablamos pero me sonrió ,” you reply. (I just saw Franco a few seconds ago, we didn’t talk but he smiled at me)

“Esperemos que te toque entrevistar a Franco, se ve como un chico adorable y se que es de tus favoritos,” she says. (Let’s hope that you get to interview him, he seems like a charming young man and I know he’s one of your favorites)

Smiling you reply, “Eso espero mamá bueno te voy a dejar porque ya vienen los compañeros de trabajo, hablamos luego. Te amo!” you say. (I hope so, mom. I’ll have to leave you because my coworkers are arriving, we’ll talk later. I love you!) “Yo tambien amor, exito hoy!” (I love you too, good luck today!)

Putting your phone away you stand up and introduce yourself to the rest of the crew that hasn’t met you yet. Smiling, they start chatting with you as you walk towards the van that’s already waiting for everyone. Climbing in you take a seat by the window and adjust the passes around your neck, you run your thumb over the black and purple media pass supplied by Formula One and look at your picture and credentials before smiling. “The first day on the job is a little overwhelming but you’ll be fine,” one of your coworkers says. You smile, “Yeah it’s starting to feel like it,” you say with a little chuckle. Everyone smiles, “Lucky for you, we’re not leaving you to your own devices on the first day so the nerves will ease,” someone else reassures.

“It’s more like anxiety but thank you. I just want to be great at the job and have fun. It’s a little hard to believe this is happening and it’s not a dream,” you add with a little chuckle. “It’s pretty surreal but you’re going to enjoy it,” the woman says. “I’m Christine by the way,” she says, outstretching her hand for you to shake. Smiling, you shake it, “Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve seen you race in Dakar,” you reply. Quickly you fall into conversation with everyone and get to know them. Fans line the sides with merch and excitedly wave to every car that passes, there’s a lot of Tifosi and you smile.

“Are you hoping to meet any specific driver?” Roldán asks you. “Honestly mostly everyone but especially Charles, Lewis, and Franco,” you answer. “You should ask them for a signature or picture once you can, they’ll be happy to do it,” he says and you smile. Once the car parks you gather your things and leave the car. Adjusting your passes you walk with them and greet the workers in Italian.

Deciding to film such an important moment for you, you put an Airpod on and open Tiktok. Filming your feet heading towards the paddock, you pan up, show the entrance, and film the moment you scan your pass and walk in before capturing your reaction. Quickly you save the video and press play on one of your playlists. There’s press so of course some pictures of you are taken and you smile at the cameras. The nerves have eased significantly and now you’re just happy to be here. Picking up your pace you join Christine and Melissa and resume the previous conversation.

The paddock is quite busy but it’s all team staff, drivers, media, and other personnel. Given the news that broke earlier this week about Franco replacing Logan in Williams, everyone wants a shot at interviewing the young driver from Argentina. Making it into the media room you sit next to your coworkers and immediately begin to work. Sipping some water from your bottle you review your notes and wait for the assignments to be handed out. “And this next one is for Y/N, you have Franco in the media pen,” Melissa says. Feeling your cheeks flush, you smile and nod, “My very first interview with and it’s with one of my favorites this is crazy,” you comment and everyone chuckles.

Quickly you start to prepare by jotting down a few questions and getting into the work mode headspace. When it’s time to start heading to the paddock everyone filters out towards the media pen. At the media pen, you get settled with the in-ear monitors and microphone. Christine decides to film the moment which makes you chuckle and wave at the camera. “You got this, you look great” she encourages and you thank her. The drivers start to come out and you ask questions to a few such as Max Verstappen, Alex Albon, and George Russell. You spot Franco approaching you and you discreetly adjust your shirt.

“¡Hola, ¿qué tal Franco?” ”Soy Y/N y estoy con DAZN!” you say in your native language and he smiles. (Hi Franco, how are you? I’m Y/N and I'm with DAZN) “Hola, muy bien ¿y vos?” he replies smiling. (Hi, I’m very good and you?) You smile back, “Todo bien,” you reply. “Es un gusto conocerte, tenés un acento bonito, ¿de donde sos?” he asks. (It’s a pleasure to meet you, you have a pretty accent, where are you from?)

The question makes you blush a little and you chuckle, Franco smiles. “¡Puerto Rico!” you reply. “Ah! Muero por visitar, es un país muy bonito,” he replies. (I'm dying to visit, its' a pretty country)

“Lo es, bueno primero que nada ¿cómo te sientes al debutar en la fórmula uno?” you ask. (It is, first of all, how do you feel about your formula one debut?) “Gracias por la pregunta, estoy en una nube todavía, es una gran oportunidad y estoy muy feliz y emocionado” you smile at him and continue to ask questions. (Thank you for the question, I’m still on a cloud, it’s a great opportunity and I’m very happy and excited)

He’s been a little flirty but you chalk it up to be the Argentinian charm and once the interview ends you thank him again and he chats with you off-camera before going off. Being busy with work makes the day roll by and when it’s time to get some lunch you decide to go off on your own and join everyone else later. Heading out of the media room you walk around and pass the Ferrari motorhome, smiling you decide to take a picture of it and marvel at how amazing and fulfilling it feels to finally see all your hard work pay off.

The years away from home, while you studied to chase your dream, are finally paying off. It happens to be your lucky day because you spot Charles and Lewis walking. Politely you go over to them and ask for pictures and signatures, “You must be new, I haven’t seen you before,” Lewis comments. Smiling you nod, “Actually, I’m fresh out of university!” You beam and they smile kindly. “In that case welcome to the paddock Y/N,” Charles says. “Hopefully we see more of you in the media pen,” Lewis adds and you smile and nod. “Thank you both for the pictures, I can’t wait to see you both in red next year,” you say. Grinning, they bid goodbye to you and you head in search of food.

Spotting a stand making pasta you stand in line and once it’s your turn you order and pay. With your food in one hand and phone in the other you reply to some messages from friends. As you reply to the messages you lose sense of direction and collide against someone’s chest. Your phone, bag, and sadly your food all fall to the ground, and embarrassment floods over you since a few passersby witness the incident.

“Disculpame, no me di cuenta,” a familiar voice says. (Sorry, I wasn't aware) You lock eyes with Franco, “No, discúlpame tú, fue culpa mía. Estaba en el celular y no estaba al pendiente” you apologetically say. (No, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I was using my cellphone and wasn’t aware)

The young driver chuckles and bends down to help you pick up your things. His fingers brush yours as he hands you back your phone, “Escuchás a Taylor Swift?” he asks. (Do you listen to Taylor Swift?)

Smiling you nod, “Si, soy swiftie,” you say. (Yes, I’m a swiftie!)“¡Yo también! ¿Pudiste ir a algún recital?” he asks you. (Me too! Did you manage to go to a concert?)

“¡Si, fui a la última noche de Londres!” you reply. (Yes, I went to the last London show!) ¿Cómo te sentiste sin tener el anuncio de Reputation?” he asks with a laugh. (How did you feel about not getting the Reputation announcement?) Giggling, you adjust your bag, “Me sentí como toda una payasa,” you reply and he laughs. (I felt like a total clown)

Fran walks with you to a nearby bin and you toss the pasta and napkins. “Me siento re mal que perdiste toda tu comida por mi culpa, dejame comprarte otra,” he offers. (I feel so bad that you lost all your food because of me. Let me buy you another one.) “No, está bien no te preocupes,” you reply. (No it’s fine don’t worry)

“Por favor déjame hacerlo, me siento mal que ya en mi primer día acá accidentalmente le he tirado la comida a alguien al suelo,” he says. (Please let me do it, I feel bad that on my first day, I already dropped someone’s food by accident) You giggle, “Ay no te sientas mal, son los nervios del primer día,” you say. (Oh no, don’t feel bad, it’s the first-day jitters)

Franco chuckles in agreement, “Es tu primer día también?” he asks. (Is it your first day too?)“Ajá, me gradué hace unos meses,” you reply. (Mhm, I graduated a few months ago) “Felicitaciones, con más razón tengo que pagarte la comida,” he says and you laugh. (Congratulations, with all the more reason I should pay for your food)

Franco looks over at you and smiles, you smile back and tuck a rogue curl behind your ear. As you stand in line you chat and your stomach flutters every time you catch him looking at you. Both of you order food and he pays for your meals, walking back you’re careful to not drop it or bump into each other again. “Gracias por la comida pero probablemente debo ir a sala de medios,” you say as you start to walk away. (Thanks for the food, but I should probably head towards the media room)

Franco reaches for your hand and stops you, “Quizás esto es muy atrevido pero podés conmigo acá en el motorhome de Williams,” he pauses and looks at you. (Maybe this is a little too bold but you can eat with me at the Williams motorhome)

“Solo si quieres, si no pues esta bien,” he quickly adds. (But only if you want to) You smile at his sweet demeanor and he nods, “Okay, acepto la invitacion Colapinto,” you say and he laughs. (Okay, I accept the invitation Colapinto) “Franco por favor,” he sweetly says. (Franco, please) “Acepto la invitación, Franco,” you add and he laughs. (I accept the invitation, Franco)

Franco leads the way and you go up to the floor in the motorhome reserved for the staff and into his driver's room. “Bueno, almuerzo de primerizos entonces,” he says and you laugh. (Well then this is the lunch of first-timers) “Primerizos que se tropezaron en el paddock,” you joke and he laughs. (First-timers that stumbled upon each other in the paddock) You eat in comfortable silence and after you finish you talk and joke around. He’s made you laugh so much you started to cry and your stomach hurts.

“Me di cuenta de que tenés buen italiano, ¿viviste en Italia?” he asks. (I noticed that you have great Italian, did you live in Italy?) “Solo unos meses, hice un internado en Italia y regresé a España,” you say. (Just for a few months, I did an internship in Italy and returned to Spain) “También lo estudié un poco en secundaria y seguí practicando por mi propia cuenta,” you answer. (I also studied it in high school and kept practicing it)

“¿Cómo es que ambos somos tan parecidos ya?” he comments and you nod in agreement. (How is it that we already have so many similarities?) “Lastima que España es tan grande, si te hubiera conociera antes, habríamos salido o algo,” he adds and you blush. (It’s a shame that it’s so big, if we had met before we would’ve gone out or something) “Quizás hubiese sido una probabilidad,” you say with a little laugh. (Perhaps it could’ve been a probability)

You continue talking and decide to exchange numbers, Franco insists on walking you to the media room. Once you reach it he stops and turns to you, “Fue un placer Y/N, espero no volver a tirarte la comida,” he comments and you laugh. (It was a pleasure Y/N, I hope to not be the cause of you losing your food again)

“Bueno, pero si no pasaba entonces no hubiésemos tenido el almuerzo de primerizos juntos,” you reply attempting your best to flirt back. (But if it hadn’t happened we wouldn’t have eaten lunch together) He smiles, “Tenés razón, esperemos que no sea la última,” he says. (You’re right, let’s hope that it’s not our last time) “Hagamos algo, yo pago el almuerzo en la próxima semana de carrera,” you propose while stretching out your hand. (Let’s do something, I’ll pay for our lunch on the next race week)

Franco shakes it and little jolts run up your body, “Trato hecho, nos vemos pronto Y/N” he says. (It’s a deal, we’ll see each other soon Y/N) Hearing him say your name delicately makes you smile and blush, “Buena suerte mañana, se que vas a demostrar lo bueno que eres en pista,” you say. Franco blushes and gives you a friendly wink and hug before walking away. (Good luck tomorrow, I know you’re gonna prove just how good you are on track)

Blushing, you head inside and greet your coworkers, they notice your blush but don’t ask anything until Melissa points it out. You tell them a little about the encounter and continue to work until it’s time to go.

Once in the hotel room, you call your mom to debrief before showering and after you come out you find a text from Franco and decide to reply. This leads to you two talking for a few hours until you have to call it a night and get some much-needed rest for the hectic weekend that awaits you both.

You were absolutely enchanted to have met him after a slight mishap but it proved to be quite a turnaround.

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

[julietsf1]

A Technical Mistake - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: peaceful paddock mornings of stocking caps and shirts are flipped upside down when Franco Colapinto, a charming stranger she assumes is part of the AV crew, comes into her store and gives her weekend an unexpected turn. (7k words)

content: big misunderstanding; cute Franco; reader is a normal working girl

AN: I am such a sucker for stories with a little cinderella vibe! I was thinking of buying the blue Williams jacket on track in Brazil but it was so spenny! send me ur sugar daddies pls!

-------------------------------------------------

The paddock was eerily quiet, an almost sacred calm before the storm of engines roaring, fans screaming, and journalists scrambling for the latest drama. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rubber—a smell I’d grown oddly fond of over the years.

This was my favorite time of the weekend. Before the rush, before the chaos of customers demanding sizes and colors we didn’t have, I could take a moment to breathe, to organize the merchandise store in peace.

“Me bajé del avión, voy corriendo para verte…” I sang softly, shimmying a little as I balanced a stack of Williams caps. The sound of Duki was the perfect soundtrack to my morning. The melody took over, and before I knew it, I was halfway moonwalking back to the Ferrari section, twirling a hanger between my fingers like I was starring in some kind of musical.

The song’s beat was about to drop when a voice cut through my impromptu performance.

“¿Y siempre bailás así mientras laburás, o es solo un show privado?” (Do you always dance like this while working, or is it just a private show?)

I froze mid-step, almost dropping the caps in my hands. Whipping around, my heart racing, I found myself face-to-face with a guy leaning against the doorframe. He had this ridiculous grin plastered across his face, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“¡Ah!” I yelped, clutching my chest. “Perdón, I didn’t—uh… ¿qué?” (Sorry, I didn’t—uh… what?)

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “Te pregunté si siempre bailás así mientras laburás.” (I asked if you always dance like that while working.)

Heat crept up my neck, and I scrambled to pull myself together. “Oh, uh… sí. Quiero decir, no. Bueno, depende…” (Yes. I mean, no. Well, it depends…)

His grin widened. “No pensé que alguien en el paddock también escuchara a Duki. ¿Sabías que el último álbum es una obra maestra? La forma en que mezcla el trap con el reguetón es una locura—” (! I didn’t think anyone in the paddock listened to Duki too. Did you know his latest album is a masterpiece? The way he mixes trap with reggaeton is insane—)

“Eh, pará,” (Wait, hold up,), I interrupted, holding up a hand, feeling my brain short-circuit as I tried to keep up with his rapid Spanish. “Hablo un poco español… pero no muy bien.” (I speak a little spanish… but not very well.)

That gave him half a second of pause before he broke into laughter. “¿No muy bien? Pero me contestaste perfecto.” (Not very well? But you answered me perfectly.) His tone was teasing, but there was no malice—just genuine warmth. “Igual, perdón. A veces hablo mucho. Es que me emocioné.” (Sorry. Sometimes I talk too much. I just got excited.)

I blinked, thrown off by his sudden shift to sincerity. “No, no, está bien. Me gusta Duki también.” (No, no, it’s okay. I like Duki too.)

“¡Ah, viste!” (Ah, see!), he said, throwing his hands up in delight. “¿Cuál es tu canción favorita? Mirá, ‘Goteo’ siempre me pone de buen humor, pero ‘She Don’t Give a Fo’ es un clásico. Y si me decís que ‘Chico Estrella’ no te gusta, no sé si podemos ser amigos.” (What’s your favorite song? Look, ‘Goteo’ always puts me in a good mood, but ‘She Don’t Give a Fo’ is a classic. And if you tell me you don’t like ‘Chico Estrella,’ I don’t know if we can be friends.)

I stared at him, trying to decipher his rapid enthusiasm. I caught about half of what he said, but his energy was infectious. “Uh… ‘Chico Estrella’ es muy buena,” (‘Chico Estrella’ is very good,), I ventured cautiously, hoping I wasn’t completely misinterpreting him.

His hand went to his chest like I’d just said something profound. “Sabía que eras de las mías. Esto es destino.” (I knew you were one of mine. This is destiny.)

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “¿Siempre hablás tanto con gente que no conocés?” (Do you always talk this much to people you don’t know?)

“Solo con la gente que escucha buena música,” (Only with people who listen to good music,), he replied smoothly, then added with a wink, “Soy Franco, por cierto. Mucho gusto.” (I’m Franco, by the way. Nice to meet you.)

“Oh, eh… Y/N,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand briefly. “Mucho gusto.” (Nice to meet you.)

“Y/N,” he repeated, like he was savoring the sound of it. “Bueno, ¿qué estás haciendo? ¿Preparando todo para el gran finde?” (So, what are you doing? Getting everything ready for the big weekend?)

“Sí.” I nodded, switching back to English because I knew I was about to run out of Spanish confidence. “I’m setting up the store. It’s… not super exciting.”

“¡Claro que sí!” (Of course it is!) he replied, not missing a beat. “Look at this—hats, shirts, models of cars. Very exciting.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Right. And what about you?”

“I’m here for the soundcheck,” he replied with a grin.

“Soundcheck?” I frowned. “Oh, like for the AV stuff?”

“Exactly.” His lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. “The audio visual stuff. Very technical, very important. You know how it is.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “So why are you hanging out here instead of being ‘very technical’?”

“Because,” he said, his grin widening, “I heard someone singing Duki and thought, wow.”

“Oh my God.” I groaned, turning back to my work. “I wasn’t singing.”

“You were definitely singing.”

“And I wasn’t dancing,” I added quickly.

“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “That little move you did with your feet? Totally not dancing.”

“Okay, fine!” I laughed, throwing my hands up. “I was dancing. But you’re not supposed to be here yet, so technically, you shouldn’t have seen it.”

“Technically, I shouldn’t be here at all,” he said with a shrug, “but aren’t you glad I am?”

“No, actually,” I deadpanned, though my grin gave me away.

Franco laughed, glancing at the pile of caps balanced precariously on the counter. “You’re doing heavy lifting, huh? Don’t knock over anything else.”

“That was an accident!” I protested. “The shelves are wobbly.”

“Right. The shelves are wobbly,” he nodded sagely. “Not because you panicked when someone caught you salsa dancing.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh my God, just go do your soundcheck!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. But seriously, next time I’m back, I expect a full choreography.”

Peeking through my fingers, I saw him give me a playful wave before stepping out. For a moment, I just stood there, trying—and failing—to fight the smile creeping onto my face.

…

The paddock was already alive with early risers: engineers carrying coffee cups larger than their heads, journalists muttering into their phones, and the occasional VIP wandering too close to restricted areas before being politely redirected. I tightened my jacket against the crisp morning air, balancing a tray of new Williams caps as I unlocked the shop.

Friday had been a whirlwind of chaos—overwhelming, exhausting, but honestly kind of fun. The memory of my unexpected visitor lingered, his laughter and that unmistakable grin replaying in my mind. Franco. I didn’t know why he stuck out so much.

I hummed as I worked, letting my playlist fill the silence of the shop. I was halfway through adjusting a tower of Ferrari shirts when his voice rang out again.

“Bizarrap now? Y/N where have you been all this time”

I jumped, narrowly avoiding knocking over the display. “Oh my God, you really need to stop sneaking up on me!”

Franco leaned casually against the doorframe, thermos in hand, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s not my fault you’re always in the middle of a dance routine when I show up.”

“Maybe if you showed up at a normal time, I wouldn’t be,” I shot back, though I couldn’t hide my grin.

“Nah, that’d be boring,” he said with a shrug, stepping inside like he belonged there. “And anyway, I was just passing by. Thought I’d check if my favorite shop manager was still here.”

“You mean the shop manager,” I corrected, setting the shirts down. “Unless you’re making house calls for all the merch shops on track now.”

Franco chuckled, unscrewing the lid of his thermos. “Only the best ones.”

My eyes flicked to the thermos, curiosity piqued. “Is that… for maté?”

“Yeah!” His face lit up like I’d just asked if he wanted to talk about his favorite thing in the world. “Do you know it?”

“I’ve heard of it,” I admitted. “Isn’t it like… tea?”

“Like tea?” He clutched his chest in mock offense. “You’re killing me. It’s more than tea. It’s life itself. It’s tradition. It’s community. It’s—”

“Okay, okay!” I laughed, holding up my hands. “So it is better than tea, I assume?”

Franco grinned, pulling out the gourd and bombilla. “I’m about to change your life. Want to try?”

“Sure,” I said, hesitating only briefly before taking the gourd he offered. I sipped cautiously, my expression shifting from surprise to delight. “Oh! This is actually really good.”

“See!” Franco said, looking far too pleased with himself. “I knew I liked you.”

“Right,” I said with a laugh. “Glad to have passed the test.”

“So, how was yesterday? Did the paddock treat you well?”

I groaned, leaning against the counter. “If you consider someone asking if I had Ferrari shirts in passionfruit purple treating me well, then sure.”

Franco choked on his sip, coughing through his laughter. “Passionfruit purple? What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. “I tried to tell him we only have red, black, and white, and he told me that wasn’t his problem and I should go find some elsewhere.”

“Classic paddock VIP,” Franco said, shaking his head. “What else?”

“Oh, then there was this woman who wanted me to bedazzle her Red Bull polo. While she waited.”

“She expected you to add rhinestones? To a team shirt?” Franco asked, looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“That’s exactly what she thought,” I said, laughed. “When I said we can’t do that, she asked if I at least had Swarovski crystals on hand for her to do it herself, because she wasn’t going to her after party without extra sparkle.”

Franco joined in, leaning against the counter and shaking his head. “I don’t know how you put up with this.”

“And what about you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Any exciting AV work today?”

Franco paused, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You could say that. It’s a little more... hands-on today, you know?”

“Right,” I said, nodding as if I understood. “Lots of wires and soundboards, I bet. Very technical.”

“What can I say?” Franco replied, his grin widening. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Clearly.” I gestured to the thermos. “Like carrying around fancy tea and converting clueless shop managers into maté fans.”

“Fancy tea again? Y/N, you’re killing me,” he said, clutching his chest.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Alright, alright. I’ll respect the maté. But only because it’s actually pretty good.”

“Good answer,” he said, giving me a wink.

For a moment, we just stood there, the comfortable silence punctuated by the distant hum of the paddock coming to life.

“You know,” Franco said finally, glancing at his watch, “I should probably get going. Qualifying’s not going to prepare itself.”

“Oh, right. Your very important AV duties,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly.” He lingered for a second longer before turning toward the door. “Don’t let anyone ask you for passionfruit purple hats today.”

“No promises,” I called after him.

As the door swung shut behind him, I found myself smiling again. There was something about Franco—something easy and infectious—that made my day feel a little lighter.

…

In the evening the paddock got quiet, the hum of activity winding down as the sun dipped below the horizon. Most of the crowd had dispersed, leaving behind the faint sounds of tools clinking in garages and muted laughter from hospitality suites above.

I finished wiping down the counter, my eyes scanning the shelves for anything out of place. There was still inventory to complete, but for now, the stillness felt like a small victory.

I was halfway through adjusting a rack of shirts when a voice broke the silence.

“You haven’t closed the shop yet?”

I turned, heart skipping a beat, to see Franco leaning against the doorframe. His hoodie and cap cast his face in partial shadow, but his green eyes were unmistakable, glinting with mischief.

“You again?” I said, a laugh bubbling up despite my surprise. “What is this, your evening shift?”

“Exactly,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Someone’s gotta make sure everything’s in order.”

“Right,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Because you’re clearly the expert on retail management.”

Franco grinned, brushing past me to inspect the hats on display. “You’re doing a great job, by the way. Everything looks very... symmetrical.”

“Thanks for the expert feedback,” I said, laughing. “Shouldn’t you be doing something important right now? Like, I don’t know, AV things?”

“Done for the day,” he said, casually flipping a hat onto its stand. “And anyway, I couldn’t just walk by without saying hi.”

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed, though the warmth creeping into my cheeks betrayed me.

Franco leaned against the counter, his gaze sweeping over my setup. “So, how’s it going? Any more requests for glitter shirts?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” I said, laughing. “Someone asked if I had a distressed Mercedes hoodie for them. ‘Rick Owens’ vibe was what they said, I believe.”

Franco snorted, shaking his head. “And what did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t think team-approved merch came pre-ripped,” I replied. “They asked if I had scissors.”

He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “You’re a stronger person than me. I’d have handed them the scissors and said, ‘Go for it.’”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, grinning.

As we talked, the tension of the day melted away, replaced by the effortless rhythm of our banter. He had this way of making me feel at ease, even when I was convinced he was only here to tease me.

Eventually, I glanced at the clock. “Alright, I need to lock up.”

“Let me help,” Franco offered, already moving to grab a stray box of caps.

“You don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he said, flashing me a playful grin. “What kind of company would I be if I didn’t pitch in?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue, watching as he stacked the box neatly against the wall.

“Thanks,” I said as I double-checked the locks.

“No problem,” he replied, leaning casually against the door. “So... do you ever get to enjoy the race, or are you always stuck in here?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I can hear the cars and feel the atmosphere, which is cool, but I’m usually too busy to watch.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Wanna change that?”

“What?”

“Come with me,” he said, gesturing toward the staircase. “The garage should still be open.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “The garage? I don’t think I’m allowed over there. Are you even allowed there?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, his grin widening. “You’re with me. No one’s going to stop us.”

“Franco…”

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Live a little.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I sighed and followed him, my heart racing as we crossed the paddock.

The Williams garage was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling paddock outside. The bright fluorescent lights highlighted every polished surface, and the sleek car sat in the middle of the space like a centerpiece in a gallery. It felt strangely intimate, with no engineers or team members left. I hesitated just outside the entrance, my nerves catching up with me now that we were here.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, clutching my bag tightly. “It’s... empty.”

“That’s the best part,” Franco replied, his grin widening as he gestured for me to follow him inside. “No one to stop us.”

I paused, glancing around the pristine space. “I don’t know... This feels like trespassing.”

“It’s not trespassing if I’m the one who brought you,” he said, walking backward as if to coax me forward. “Come on. Live a little.”

I sighed but couldn’t fight back my smile as I followed him in, my sneakers squeaking faintly against the shiny floor. The atmosphere was surreal, and the closer we got to the car, the more my awe grew. I’d seen Formula 1 cars on TV, in pictures, even on the paddock screens—but standing next to one was an entirely different experience.

Franco smirked, gesturing toward the car. “Look here,” he said, crouching slightly to point out the edge of the floorboard. “See how the side pods curve in? That’s for cooling. Air flows through there to keep the engine temperature stable. Without it, you’re toast by lap ten.”

I leaned closer, my brow furrowing as I followed his line of sight. “So... it’s like a high-tech air conditioner for the car?”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening. “Though we call it aero. Sounds cooler, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Very fancy.”

Franco stood and walked toward the rear wing, beckoning me to follow. “And this—this is where all the magic happens.”

I trailed after him, folding my arms as he gestured to the intricate structure of the wing. “Let me guess. It’s, uh, what keeps the car from flying off the track?”

“Close,” Franco said, clearly enjoying my attempt. “It’s all about downforce. The rear wing pushes the car into the track so we can go faster through corners. Too little, and you’re skidding all over the place. Too much, and you’re slower on the straights. It’s a balancing act.”

My eyes flicked to the faintly scuffed surface of the wing. “Is that why it looks so... fragile? Like one bump and it’ll fall apart?”

Franco chuckled. “It’s tougher than it looks. But yeah, you don’t want to crash into someone—or something. The engineers would cry.”

I laughed, picturing an entire team of engineers in despair over a dented wing. “So, you actually know what all this stuff does?”

“Of course,” Franco said, his tone almost offended but playful.

“I mean, for an AV guy, you’re awfully... knowledgeable,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He paused, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Let’s just say I pay attention.”

“This is insane,” I whispered, taking in all the intricate details of the car again. “It’s... beautiful.”

Franco chuckled. “That’s one way to describe it. Most people just say, ‘Fast.’”

“Well, it’s that too,” I said, shooting him a look. “But seriously... It’s like art.”

“Art that goes over 300 kilometers per hour,” he said, his grin softening. “Wanna sit in it?”

I froze, turning to him with wide eyes. “What? No. I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” Franco said, already moving toward the cockpit. “Come on, it’s not going to bite.”

I hesitated, glancing between him and the car. There was something in his expression—playful, but also genuinely encouraging—that made me relent. “Fine. But if anyone finds out, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, helping me climb in.

The cockpit was snug—far tighter than I’d expected—and I felt awkward as I tried to maneuver my legs into position. Once I was settled, I placed my hands on the steering wheel cautiously, my heart racing.

“This feels... surreal,” I said, staring at the wheel.

“You look like a pro already,” Franco said, crouching beside the car with his phone in hand.

“Don’t you dare,” I warned, catching the gleam in his eyes.

“Too late,” he said, snapping a picture before I could protest.

“Franco!”

“What?” he said innocently, holding up the photo for me to see. “Look, it’s a good angle. Very Instagram-worthy.”

I groaned, but I couldn’t help laughing. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look cool,” he corrected, saving the photo. “But don’t worry—I’ll send it to you. For your mom, obviously.”

I laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Oh yeah, because my mom’s dying to see me breaking rules in the paddock.”

“She’ll be proud,” Franco said, standing up. “Here, try this.”

He handed me a helmet, which I reluctantly placed on my head. It was far too big, wobbling precariously as I adjusted the strap.

“Okay, this is worse,” I said, my voice muffled by the helmet. “I look like a bobblehead.”

Franco burst out laughing, doubling over as he tried to steady himself. “You’re not wrong, but it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes.

“Definitely,” he said, snapping another picture before I could stop him.

“You’re actually the worst, you know that?” I said, reaching to swat the phone from his hand, but he dodged easily.

“Admit it,” he teased, slipping the phone into his pocket. “You’re having fun.”

I paused, the weight of the helmet making me grin. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” Franco said, setting the phone down. “That’s the point.”

As we wandered back toward the front of the garage, I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder at the car one last time. It felt like I’d just stepped into another universe, one far removed from the chaos of my usual day.

“Thanks for this,” I said quietly. “It was... unexpected. In a good way.”

“Anytime,” Franco said, his smile genuine. “Next time, we’ll take it for a spin.”

I snorted. “Yeah, no thanks. I like having a license.”

…

My phone buzzed in my pocket as we reached the door to the paddock’s outer corridor. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen: my colleague’s name lighting up in bold letters.

“Oh shoot,” I said, answering quickly. “Hey, yeah, sorry! I’m on my way now.”

Franco raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently as I finished the call.

“Forgot I’m carpooling,” I explained as I tucked my phone away. “I’m supposed to meet my colleague Alicia in the parking lot, like... five minutes ago.”

“Lucky for you, I know the way,” Franco said with a grin. “Come on. I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, even as I fell into step beside him.

“I insist,” he said, slipping his hands into his hoodie pockets. “It’s dangerous out there. You might get mobbed by someone asking for sapphire-blue polos again.”

I laughed. “Good point. Better bring backup.”

We walked together through the quiet paddock, the sounds of the race weekend fading into the background. Franco’s pace was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world, and I found myself relaxing despite the mild panic of running late.

“So,” Franco said after a beat, “what’s the plan? Dinner, sleep, and back to the chaos tomorrow?”

“Pretty much,” I replied. “I’ll probably be dreaming about misplaced hats and impossible customer requests.”

“Sounds thrilling,” he teased, glancing over at me.

“Oh, it’s a dream come true,” I joked.

When we reached the parking lot, I slowed, turning toward him. “Thanks for walking me. You didn’t have to, but... it was nice.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said easily, his grin softening. “Oh, before you go—what’s your Instagram?”

“My Instagram?” I repeated, blinking.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll send you the pictures. Besides, it’s a nice excuse to text you later.”

His tone was casual, but the glint in his eyes gave away the playful intent.

“Smooth,” I said, smiling as I typed my handle into his phone.

“What can I say?” he replied, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve got my moments.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned to leave. But before I’d even made it to Alicia’s car, my phone buzzed again.

I glanced down at the screen, expecting a message, but instead, I saw a follow request. Franco Colapinto.

Curious, I tapped on his profile—and froze.

There it was, plain as day: Williams Racing Driver.

My jaw dropped. I turned back toward him, still standing where we’d parted, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught me staring.

“You’re a driver?” I asked, loud enough for him to hear across the lot.

He sauntered closer, his grin widening. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No!” I said, my cheeks warming. “You let me think you were just—”

“Just what?” he asked, his voice full of teasing amusement. “The AV guy?”

“Yes!”

Franco laughed, the sound warm and easy. “I never said that. You just assumed. I wasn’t about to ruin the fun.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped, caught off guard by the way he was looking at me—not smug, but something softer.

“You’re enjoying yourself way too much right now.”

“Can you blame me?” he said, his grin widening.

I felt my cheeks warm and quickly looked away, fiddling with a stray cap on the counter. “Well, excuse me for not keeping tabs on every random person who shows up in the paddock.”

“Random?” he gasped dramatically, leaning closer. “You wound me, Y/N.”

I tried to suppress a smile, focusing hard on arranging the caps. “You know what I mean.”

Franco’s teasing softened, and his voice lowered just enough to make my pulse quicken. “Don’t worry. I get it. I joined mid-season—no merch, no big fuss. Kind of nice, actually.”

I shook my head, biting back a smile as Alicia honked the car horn, impatient. I glanced over my shoulder, then back at Franco.

“Well, good luck tomorrow, driver,” I said, emphasizing the word with a playful grin.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping closer, his tone dipping into something more deliberate. “And if I score points, you’ll come celebrate, right?”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

“The fun kind,” he said, his green eyes glinting. “Drinks, music... Maybe even some dancing, if you’re up for it.”

My cheeks warmed again, but this time I didn’t shy away. “Alright. If you score points, I’m in.”

“Good,” he said, stepping back with a wink. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I turned and headed to Alicia’s car, my heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the hurried pace. As I slid into the passenger seat, my phone buzzed again—a message from Franco.

You’re going to have fun tomorrow. Trust me. ;)

I couldn’t help but smile as I replied: You better deliver, Colapinto.

…

Franco had just wrapped up his post-race interviews, a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion coursing through him. Eighth place—points for Williams. It wasn’t a podium, but it felt like a win. The team’s hospitality suite loomed just ahead, buzzing with the chatter of staff, sponsors, and VIP guests waiting to congratulate him.

The Williams event manager was already gesturing for him to join the group. “Franco, let’s keep moving. You’re late for the team celebration.”

But Franco barely slowed his stride. His gaze flicked across the paddock and landed on the merchandise store. His grin widened.

“Give me a minute,” he said, waving her off.

“Franco—” she started, exasperated, but he was already heading toward the shop.

…

I was busy ringing up yet another Charles Leclerc cap when I felt the store’s energy shift. A hush swept over the customers, quickly replaced by murmurs.

“Is that...?” one whispered loudly.

“Oh my God, it’s Franco Colapinto!” another exclaimed.

I glanced up, my heart skipping a beat as Franco strolled in, still wearing his race suit, unzipped to reveal the Williams-branded undershirt beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had that unmistakable post-race glow—the combination of effort and adrenaline that made him look annoyingly good. His green eyes scanned the shop before locking onto me.

He ignored the sudden buzz of whispers and phones being whipped out, walking straight to the counter with that easy confidence.

“Well?” he said, leaning on the counter with a grin.

“Well, what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady even as my heart raced.

“I delivered,” he said casually, though the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

“Congratulations,” I said warmly, matching his grin despite myself. “Eighth place, right?”

“That’s right.” He leaned closer, his grin softening into something a little more intimate. “And now I’m here to confirm our deal.”

“Our deal?” I asked, feigning ignorance just to tease him.

Franco let out a mock groan, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You promised to celebrate if I scored points.”

“Did I?” I asked, my eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a flutter through my chest. “Don’t make me beg.”

Behind him, a small group of customers was watching the interaction with barely-contained excitement. One braver fan held up a notebook. “Franco! Can you sign this?”

Without even looking back, Franco waved a hand in polite dismissal. “Not now, amigo.”

Another fan piped up, “Are you actually in here to buy something?”

Franco turned his head slightly, smirking. “Nah, just confirming plans. Way more important.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the customers exchanged incredulous looks. Turning my attention back to him, I tilted my head. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep my word. What’s the plan?”

“I’ll send you the details later,” Franco said, standing up straight. His voice softened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “No backing out. You owe me one for carrying all those hats yesterday.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, my cheeks warming under his gaze.

“Good,” Franco said, stepping back with a wink.

Just as he turned to leave, the sharply-dressed Williams event manager appeared in the doorway, clipboard clutched tightly. “Franco! There you are. Hospitality, now. You’re already late.”

“On my way,” he said, before glancing back at me one last time. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

“See you,” I replied, my voice light but sincere.

With one final wink, he spun on his heel and strode out of the store, leaving a trail of astonished fans and a flustered me in his wake. As the door swung shut behind him, I caught sight of him being hurried across the paddock by the event manager, his confident stride unshaken.

…

The rooftop lounge was bathed in golden light, the glittering city skyline providing a stunning backdrop. The hum of conversation, the clink of champagne glasses, and bursts of laughter filled the air, creating the perfect atmosphere for celebration. Franco had done it—points for Williams, a solid achievement for the team and a personal milestone for him.

I hesitated as I stepped onto the terrace, smoothing down my black dress. The outfit wasn’t anything too fancy, but it felt a world apart from my usual paddock uniform. My nerves buzzed, not because of the party but because of who had insisted I come.

I spotted Franco near the balcony, his white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a drink in hand as he nodded politely at something a sponsor was saying. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes flicked over the crowd with purpose. When his gaze landed on me, his grin spread instantly, bright and unmistakably boyish.

“Excuse me,” he said abruptly to the group around him, his voice cutting through their chatter. Without waiting for their response, he made his way toward me, weaving through the crowd with ease.

“You made it,” he said, stopping in front of me, his green eyes scanning me like he was committing every detail to memory.

“I did,” I replied, my voice light. “And you’re not exactly hard to find.”

“I try to be memorable,” he teased, though his grin softened into something warmer. He took a step back, his gaze lingering. “You look... wow.”

“Wow?” I raised an eyebrow, though my cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.

“Yeah, wow,” he said earnestly, as if the word itself wasn’t enough. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Is that your way of saying I usually look terrible?” I joked, tilting my head.

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean—no. You always look great, but this is... different. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed even more, and I let out a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I clean up when I have to,” he replied, his grin widening.

We stood near the edge of the terrace, the noise of the party fading into the background. Franco didn’t seem to notice the occasional glances or murmurs from other guests. His focus was entirely on me, his posture relaxed yet intent.

“So, what’s the verdict on this party?” I asked, gesturing slightly to the scene around us.

“Not bad,” he said with a shrug. “But it just got better.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re too much.”

Before he could reply, someone called his name from across the terrace. Franco turned briefly, offering a polite wave, but his attention snapped back to me almost instantly.

“Busy man,” I teased, my eyes sparkling.

“Not tonight,” he replied firmly.

But the interruptions kept coming. A Williams team member approached with a clipboard, another guest hovered nearby with a congratulatory drink in hand, and a photographer gestured for Franco to join a group photo. Each time, he handled it quickly, his attention darting back to me as soon as he could.

“Sorry,” he said after the third interruption, shaking his head. “That’s the last one. I swear.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, my tone teasing but understanding.

“Not really,” he admitted, his grin sheepish. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

My chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone, but before I could respond, another call of his name rang out. Franco sighed, glancing briefly toward the source.

“Want a drink?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost intimate amidst the bustling terrace.

“Sure,” I said, nodding.

Franco led me to the bar, keeping close as we moved through the crowd. He ordered for both of us without hesitation, handing me a glass of sparkling water when I mentioned I wasn’t drinking.

“To today,” he said, raising his glass.

“To eighth place,” I replied, clinking mine lightly against his.

“And to making this the best part of the night,” he added, his grin softening as he looked at me over the rim of his glass.

As we lingered by the bar, the interruptions became harder to ignore. A sponsor insisted on pulling Franco into another photo, while a team member gestured impatiently for him to join a group near the balcony. He handled each one politely but quickly, his focus always returning to me.

“You know,” I said after a particularly persistent interruption, “you’re kind of in demand tonight.”

“Let them wait,” he replied, his voice steady.

“They don’t seem like the waiting type,” I teased.

“Too bad,” he said, his grin unwavering. “I’ve got better company.”

My heart skipped at the conviction in his tone, but before I could respond, yet another call of his name rang out. This time, Franco sighed audibly, shaking his head.

“I think that’s my cue,” he said, glancing back at me. “To suggest we sneak out.”

“Sneak out of your own party?” I repeated, my brow lifting slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin returning. “Somewhere quieter. Just us.”

I hesitated, glancing around the bustling terrace. “Won’t people notice?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t really care.”

The quiet certainty in his voice made me smile. “Alright. Let’s go.”

…

Franco led me toward a side exit at the edge of the terrace, his hand lightly brushing my back as we weaved through the thinning crowd. The rooftop celebrations carried on without a hitch, the laughter and clinking of glasses fading into the background as we slipped through the door.

“This way,” he said, holding the door open for me with a mischievous grin.

I stepped into a narrow stairwell, the dim emergency lights casting soft shadows on the walls. “We’re really doing this?”

“Of course,” Franco said, closing the door behind us. “What’s a celebration without a little adventure?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “This feels so dramatic. What, no rooftop helicopter getaway?”

“Next time,” he quipped, his grin widening as he started down the stairs.

The faint creak of the metal staircase echoed with each step, the quiet amplifying the flutter in my chest. By the time we reached the fire escape at ground level, the cool night air rushed in, refreshing and grounding.

“This is... a little ridiculous,” I said, glancing around at the empty alleyway we’d stepped into.

“Ridiculously fun,” Franco corrected, offering me his hand to help me down the last step.

I rolled my eyes but took it, his grip warm and steady. “Alright, what now?”

“Trust me,” he said, his green eyes glinting in the dim light. “I know the perfect spot.”

…

The city streets were quieter than I’d expected, the buzz of the race weekend giving way to a more subdued hum of nightlife. Franco walked beside me, his hands in his pockets, his pace unhurried.

“Any preferences?” he asked, tilting his head toward me.

I shrugged, smiling. “Surprise me.”

He led me down a narrow side street, the glow of streetlights reflecting off the cobblestones. We stopped in front of a small, cozy shop with large windows and shelves of colorful bottles displayed inside.

“This place,” Franco said, nodding toward the door. “Best snacks and drinks you’ll find this late.”

The warm scent of freshly fried food greeted us as we stepped inside. Franco approached the counter like a man on a mission, ordering two plates of dumplings and two bottles of Ramune without hesitation.

I watched as he expertly popped the marble stopper on one of the sodas, the sound crisp and satisfying. He handed it to me with a grin. “Here. Best part of the whole drink.”

“You make it sound like magic,” I said, laughing as I took the bottle.

“It kind of is,” he replied, popping the second bottle for himself.

We carried our food and drinks outside, settling on a low wall just across the street. The city lights sparkled in the distance, the occasional hum of a passing car filling the quiet.

I picked up a dumpling, steam curling from its surface. “You really know how to celebrate, huh?”

“Hey, who needs champagne when you’ve got gyoza and Ramune?” Franco said, holding up his bottle in a mock toast.

I laughed, clinking my bottle lightly against his. “Cheers to that.”

The quiet of the street wrapped around us, a comforting hum of distant city life providing a soft backdrop as we lingered outside the noodle shop. Our conversation had slowed, dipping into a comfortable silence as we finished our meal. Franco turned his soda bottle in his hand, the faint clink of the marble stopper breaking the stillness.

He glanced at me, his gaze lingering a little too long. When I met his eyes, there was something unspoken there—warmth, maybe, or a kind of vulnerability that caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked softly, tilting my head.

“Nothing,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But then he hesitated, his fingers tightening around the bottle before he set it down beside him. “Actually... not nothing.”

My brow furrowed slightly as I waited, the weight of his pause pulling my attention fully to him.

“You ever feel like...” He trailed off, letting out a soft laugh, almost like he was laughing at himself. “Like you’re doing something incredible, something people would kill to do, but... it still feels like something’s missing?”

His words hit me with unexpected bluntness, the rawness in his tone making my chest tighten. I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do. It’s like... you’re proud of it, but it’s not the whole picture. It’s not everything.”

“Exactly,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “Don’t get me wrong, I love driving. It’s my dream, always has been. But...” He exhaled, his eyes dropping briefly before flicking back to mine. “It can be... lonely sometimes. You’re surrounded by people, always moving, but you don’t really get to... connect. Not like this.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his words. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, his gaze steady on mine. “This. Talking to someone who isn’t asking about lap times or tire strategy. Someone who actually listens. It’s... rare.”

My chest tightened at his words, and I shifted slightly, my fingers toying with the edge of my sleeve. “It’s not just you,” I admitted, my voice quiet but steady. “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. Like you’re doing something amazing, but... it’s still missing something.”

I hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the soda bottle in my hand. “I love working in F1. I really do. But... I miss my friends back home sometimes. Even though my colleagues are nice, it’s not the same. It’s hard to meet people you really connect with when you’re constantly on the move.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening. “Yeah. That’s it exactly.”

“I guess I never really expected to meet someone here...” I paused, searching for the right words. “...who it suddenly feels so easy with.”

He didn’t look away, his expression steady as if he understood exactly what I meant. “I get it,” he said softly. “More than you know.”

The air between us felt heavier now, thick with unspoken understanding. I met his eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. There was something grounding in the way he looked at me, like he wasn’t just hearing me but seeing me completely.

…

When we reached the hotel, I slowed to a stop, turning to face Franco just outside the entrance. He mirrored me, his hands slipping from his pockets as he stood a little closer than before.

“Well,” I said, tilting my head slightly, “this is me.”

“So it is,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

There was a beat of silence, the soft hum of the city filling the space between us. He looked at me, his green eyes studying my face like he was memorizing every detail.

“I wish I didn’t have to say goodnight,” he said quietly, his voice dropping to something softer, almost vulnerable.

My breath caught, the simplicity of his words hitting me harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to respond, but the look in his eyes—the way his usual teasing warmth had melted into something so unguarded—rendered me speechless.

“I mean it,” he continued, his lips twitching into a small, self-deprecating smile. “This... tonight... I don’t want it to end.”

My chest tightened, a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite name. “Franco...”

“I know,” he said, cutting me off gently. His grin softened as he glanced down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “It’s just... it’s been a while since I felt this way. Since someone made me feel this way.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and unfiltered. My cheeks flushed, my heart pounding as the distance between us suddenly felt too much. I took a small step closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to say goodnight just yet.”

The tension in the air thickened, the playful energy we’d carried through the evening now replaced by something deeper, heavier, and undeniable. Franco’s hand lifted slowly, his fingers brushing against my cheek as though he was afraid to break the moment. His touch was light, tentative, but the warmth of it sent a shiver down my spine.

He closed the remaining distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was soft at first, careful, like he was savoring a moment he didn’t want to rush. The hesitation melted away almost instantly, replaced by something warmer, deeper.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his other hand rested lightly on my waist. The kiss deepened, unhurried but intense, a perfect balance of passion and tenderness. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palms as my hands rested against his chest.

Franco tilted his head slightly, his lips moving against mine with a certainty that made my knees feel unsteady. Every movement felt deliberate, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every emotion he couldn’t quite articulate, into the kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, the world felt quieter, as though the night had paused just for us.

Franco’s thumb brushed against my cheek as he studied my face, his green eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name but didn’t need to.

“See you at the next race?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with hope and certainty all at once.

“For sure,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper but steady.

His lips curved into a slow, almost disbelieving smile, his hand lingering on my waist for a moment longer before he stepped back.

As I turned and stepped inside the hotel, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced down, my cheeks still warm. A message from Franco lit up my screen:

You’ve completely ruined me, you know that? Best night ever.

I smiled to myself, my heart still racing as the elevator doors closed.

…

I groggily blinked awake, the sunlight peeking through the hotel curtains. My head felt heavy, and for a moment, I debated rolling over and falling right back asleep. But then my phone buzzed on the nightstand, the faint vibration pulling me from the haze of sleep. I reached over, squinting at the screen as I unlocked it.

Three missed calls. A text from Alicia, my colleague, stood out at the top of the notifications.

Why the hell are you on Franco Colapinto’s Instagram story eating dumplings with him on the pavement???

I frowned, propping myself up slightly against the headboard. What?

My thumb hovered over the message before tapping it, and an attached screenshot filled the screen. I blinked at it, then blinked again, sitting up straighter.

There it was, in all its glory: a grainy yet oddly endearing photo of Franco and me, still dressed from last night, sitting on the street outside the noodle shop. Plates of gyoza were scattered between us, the remnants of our late-night feast. My laughter was frozen mid-moment, one hand holding one of the little snacks while the other gestured animatedly. Franco was grinning at me, his green eyes glinting under the dim streetlights.

The caption read: Late-night dining, five stars. 

I groaned, half in disbelief, half in embarrassment, as I clicked out of the screenshot and into Instagram itself. Sure enough, Franco’s story was still live. I stared at it for a moment, heat rising to my cheeks, before my phone buzzed again.

Another text from Alicia.

Is this what you do when you “stay late to lock up”? GIRL. DETAILS. NOW.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head as I set the phone down. The embarrassment I’d expected to feel never fully settled in. Instead, a warmth bloomed in my chest, the memory of last night—the dumplings, the laughter, the kiss—playing back in my mind.

I sat back against the pillows, staring at the sunlight filtering through the curtains. My phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t a notification or a frantic message from Alicia. It was Franco.

Hope you’re not mad about the dumpling photo. Just wanted to remember the best night I’ve had in a while.

I smiled, the warmth in my chest spreading as I typed out a reply.

Not mad. But you owe me breakfast for making me Instagram famous.

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Deal. I’ll pick you up in 30.

I laughed softly, setting my phone down on the bedside table. Outside, the city was waking up, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was rushing to keep up with it. Instead, I let myself sink into the quiet, a lingering sense of joy wrapping around me like a blanket.

[spidybaby]

Forgive you, for what?

Summary: After the release of your new song, people start to make rumors about your relationship, making Gavi feel uncomfortable. (Singer!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexy time, implications of cheating.

Face Claim: Emilia Mernes

"Pablo, don't do that." You say, laughing at him hitting your hand away. Making you almost trop the PS5 controller.

You two were playing fifa. He taught you how to play it, and now he loves that you got to be able to beat him on the game.

"I swear to God, princesa." He laughs when you imitate him hitting your hands. "If you win I'm unfollowing you on insta."

Just as he says that, you score the winner goal of the game. You jump happy, laughing at how he sucks and you are the one and only winner.

He grabs you by the waist, pulling you down to lay on top of him. You laugh at him. Arms behind his neck and lips on his face.

You were careful with him, especially after his injury.

"I beat you." You laugh. Kissing his lips.

He loves these moments with you. Just you and him enjoying the company of each other and not thinking about work and all the responsibilities.

You love how his demeanor changed since the injury. You felt your heart being ripped off when you saw him get injured on the field.

With your help and this family, it was a hard way but he made it. You were so proud of him. He loved his progress as much as you loved to see him renewed and fresh.

"Let's cook something, you need to take your vitamins with food." You kiss his nose, making him scrunch it. "C'mon, mi amorcito."

He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheeks. He loves how shy and red you get when he focus his attention on your cheeks.

"I want a picture with you to remember how happy we are. Put on your shades." You reach over your phone and to where his shades were. Putting them on his face. "Di quesoooo." You smile at the camera.

"Quesoooo" He repeats. Laughing after a few pictures. You kiss his face while taking a few more. "Are you posting me on social media?" He asks, pretending to be serious.

"Why you care?" You follow his game. "You are going to unfollow me." You stick your tongue out for him.

"Maybe an appreciation post will make me follow you again." He jokes. Getting up from the couch and pulling you lightly. "Let's make Mac and cheese." He begs.

You nod, asking him to take the things you'll use. You grab your phone and choose a picture to post on your insta story.

Yourusername has added to close friends

You tagged him, even when the boy only goes on insta to repost something from the barca profile. And even when he can't repost it.

"Princesa, everything's ready." He calls you from the kitchen. "Ven, mi amor."

You smile, loving how he always picks the right way to call you and melt you from love at the same time.

🌸🌸🌸

"Perdonarte, para qué?

Para que vuelvas a fallarme otra vez?

No muchas gracias, ese chiste ya no me hace gracia."

You sing the lyrics to your new song that you have been working on with the Mexican group Los Angeles Azules.

You loved them since you were a child, and for you to be singing and filming a music video with them is a dream come true.

"You look amazing." The lead singer of the group tells you. "We heard your album when it got out and now on our way here to be able to get your energy."

"That's so sweet." You smile, hugging him. "My mom is going crazy about me being here with you. She's a big fan. We are."

You talk with all of them a little bit. Joking while filming. It was all so fun for you and to them too.

"Okay, take three. Y/n, from the beginning."

"Get over me, forget me

And think that it was just a dream what you lived with me

Get it together

There won't be any more pages of the best story you've read

With that, I say goodbye

Please, better not call me

I don't even want you as a friend

Forgive you, for what?

For you to fail me again?

No, thank you very much

That joke is not funny anymore." You sing the song while the music is playing over it.

Yourusername

Liked by pablogavi, angelesazulesmx and 2,573,837 others

Yourusername can't wait for this to be out. See you tomorrow ❤️💋

View all 98,472 comments

angelesazulesmx 🤩🤩🤩

pablogavi ❤️

"Can you please tell me what this secret project is about?" Pablo begs. "Mi amor, I'm nosy." He pouts.

"I know, precioso." You laugh. "But I want you to see it the day it comes out and tell me your real reaction to it."

"I can do that right now." He pouts again.

"No, papi." You shake your head no. "That's not going to happen."

He understood your motives, you always show him your projects before hearing them, except the ones you want him to feel in real time.

"Hey, why did you unfollow me on insta?" You jokingly yell at him. "Amor, why?" You laugh.

"I told you I would." He laughs. "I did, I go by my word."

You talk with him for a little while. Packing your things to go back to Spain to practice for your tour leg in Europe.

"Did you tell her, Pablo?" You hear Aurora in the back of the call.

"Si." He shouts. "Amor, Aurora wants you to have lunch with her as soon as you land in Barcelona. Because she's leaving to Sevilla."

"Yes, tell Aurorita that I want that."

"I'll text you." Aurora yells again.

You laugh at her. You love his family, and you are very thankful that they love you back. It was a big piece in your relationship. The approval and love of your families.

"I have to go, I need to finish packing." You say as your phone pulls the notification of low battery. "Te amo, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, don't come here, I'll come to you." He mentions quickly. "When are you landing?"

"I think at like 2 p.m." You say with doubt. "I'll text you when Aurora and I are done."

"Vale, te amo."

"Te amo más, see you soon, papi."

"See you soon, mami." He blows a kiss to you.

🌸🌸🌸

The song is out, and the Spanish press is making a huge deal out of it.

holacom

Liked by 24,574

holacom International singer Y/n released her new song in collaboration with Los Angeles Azules, a Mexican cumbian group, the song "Forgive you, for what?" became number one in multiple countries.

Fans are wondering if this new title has to do with Gavi, number six on the Barça first team, unfollowing her and about previous cheating rumors from the footballer.

(📸 @yourusername and @pablogavi)

Pablo hates when the media makes up rumors about you, and he definitely hates when they make rumors about your relationship.

When he heard the song, he never thought it was about you two or any situation that you two went through.

He was loyal to you. He can't be with anyone else when he has everything he ever wanted with you.

"Please, mi amor. Answer your phone." He tries one more time to FaceTime you. When the call goes to nothing. He feels frustrated. "Rora, please try one more time." He begs.

Aurora does. She tried to text you all morning, but the last text she got from you was before your plane took over. That was more than 15 hours ago.

"Nothing." She sighs, seeing his brother lose his mind over the tabloids. "Pablo, there has to be a reason. She won't just not answer you."

She feels cursed. Just when Pablo was relaxing, a notification popped up on his phone. You posted an instagram post.

yourusername

Liked by angelesazulesmx, mariabecerra and 5,485,486 others

Yourusername Gracias! I want to thank all of you for your amazing support and love to Perdonarte, para qué? (Forgive you, for what?)

Thank you so much to Los Angeles Azules and to everybody who worked hard to be able to make this possible. Forever in my heart ❤️

View all 290,721 comments

pablogavisgirl pls don't tell me this is about Gavi😭😭😭

y/nfan1 love the song but pls tell us this isn't a confirmation of the rumors of Gavi cheating on you

gavihater1 happy you finally realized he was not worthy and that you are too much for him anyway

His face drop, why weren't you answering him but you were posting?

He wants to yell, he wants to throw his phone to the wall and pretend this shitshow isn't happening.

"I need to be alone for a moment." He excuses himself to his sister.

But in the United States airport, you were locked in a room with no phone and no way of communicating to anyone.

"How much until she can leave?" You manager asks the immigration guy. "This is ridiculous. She's a singer, and her visa is only a day into the six months rule."

"Ma'am I don't make the rules. But this is my job, and I can't just let her break the law just cause she is a singer."

"I know, I'm not asking you to break anything. I'm just telling you that it's been seven hours since we landed here. We already told you and showed you proof that this is just a connection flight."

You were mad. You were supposed to be in the United States for only an hour and you already spent seven hours while the immigration officer confirmed the story that you were a singer and your trip to Barcelona was with working purposes.

All because your visa was one day into the six months limit where you can't fly. That was an honest mistake from your manager, you can't blame her.

"Can I at least have some food?" You ask the police who was with you in the room. "Please."

He ignores you. You were mad, you were just passing by, not like you were colonizing their land.

"Okay, you are free to go." The same immigration dude came to open the door for you. "Good luck at your concert."

You didn't even flash a smile. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but you weren't. "Good night." You say.

You hug your manager. Telling her how tired you were and how you needed food and a long sleep.

"You'll have seven hours to do that." She walks with you. "I got us a private jet, no more stupid commercial flights."

"And good thing is that your song is number one on the charts." Your assistant tells you. "And I posted a thank you to Los Angeles Azules and to your fans."

You don't even have the energy to care about a post or anything. "My phone is dead." You mention. "I was on like 10% before they took me in"

You walk to a coffee shop, getting something to drink while your assistant got you something to eat.

"Here." She hands you the food. "And your phone is charging. Here." She left the phone with the power bank attached.

You calmly eat while watching a movie. When you have more energy to finally do more than just be a potato, you pick your phone.

Your eyes widen at the sight of all the missing calls from Pablo, Aurora and your friends. "I have to call Pablo." You say.

"No." Your manager snatchs your phone off your hands. "You need sleep, Pablo is probably worry and that's okay, but sleep."

She didn't want you to find out about the drama the tabloids are doing. She wants you to get to Barcelona with at least a little energy and then deal with it.

y/n.hq

Liked by aurorapaezg, antonellaroccuzzo and other 1,472,380 others

y/n.hq three randoms. One you'll understand later, one listening to Perdonarte, para qué? and one before our plane took out to Barcelona, where the new leg of the tour began.

View all 34,572 comments

gavihater2 love how you are ignoring everything about that excuse of a player

y/nfan2 amore, please tell us you and Gavi aren't done 😭😭😭

_ferminlopez can I get free tickets?

bcnboyslover FERMIN NOT YOU HERE 😭

gavilover34 baby you can afford them

gaviandy/nlover is this the way they tell us everything is fine and they're still together? Fermin?

"C'mon Pablo, please pick up." You try one more time. "Papi, I need you. Answer" You whisper, nervous about the whole drama that the media pulled.

When you landed in Barcelona, it was 11 pm. So you needed your bed and a pill to be able to sleep all night.

The repercussions came when you woke up to your friends blowing your phone with questions about Gavi, Aurora asking you if you were okay and to call her and the worst.

Pablo texting you that he was hurt that you weren't answering, you were just letting the fire get to him about something you denied him access. And asking you if that was your plan for the beginning.

You called Aurora, who was in Sevilla at that point. You explained to her what happened, and she understood your tired state. Not blaming you for what you did as soon as you landed.

She texted Pablo, asking him to let you explain yourself, how you wouldn't do what he thinks you did.

But you weren't going to wait until his mad state is over. You needed to talk to him face to face, and even if he didn't want it to, you do.

You open the door of his house with your spare key. "Pablo!" You yell for him to hear that it was you. "Pablo Martín!" You yell again.

You walk to his kitchen, nothing. The living room, nothing. His room, nothing again.

You were nervous, he wasn't there. You pase around thinking where he was. Was he with Fermin? Was he with Pedri? At one of la masia boys? Where?

You were so into your mind that you don't hear the front door being open or the steps coming to the bedroom.

But you do scream when the door is fully open in a quick motion. Making Pablo jump scared. "Por la puta, qué mierda?" He asks, hand on his heart.

"Pablo!" You say happy, hugging him and kissing his face. His hands are on your sides, not really hugging you, more like keeping you steady. "Mi amor, I'm sorry about not being able to answer. I was trapped and I wasn't able to take my flight."

"Y por qué si pudiste subir fotos?" He asks, pushing you away from him. "Hmm?" (And why did you have time to post?)

"I didn't, papi, that was my assistant." You try to explain. "Papi, I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Well, you did." He walks into the bathroom, ignoring you while taking his clothes off. Ready to take a shower.

"Pablo, please!"

He got into the shower, not caring that you were there. Nothing you haven't seen before, so you walked into the bathroom.

You open the glass door. Water slashing all over your shoes and legs. "Pablo, I'm not going anywhere."

"Entonces quédate ahí." (Then stay there) he continued with hos shower routine without a care in the world.

You close the door. Removing your shoes and clothes, except for your underwear. You weren't giving up just like that.

"Mira, Pablo." You grab his shoulders, hands removing the foam from his forehead to he could see you. "I was forced to stay at a freaking two meters office with a very mean police dude in New York." You explain.

He pays attention, even though he doesn't want to, he respects you enough to hear you.

"I was tired, I was jet lagged, I was hungry and thirsty, but I couldn't even move without the dude reaching for his taser."

You feel your eyes watering. You were stressed. The song was supposed to be something good. You with your favorite cumbia group, doing a Spanish language song after two English albums. Not this mess.

"I was tired." You cry. "And I wanted my boyfriend to understand. But he is too busy playing the hurt one when he knows I would never be the type to leave him with a song. Especially after talking to him on the phone and saying I love you."

You back away from him. Letting him see you discomfort. He felt bad, all that anger, and the words he sent you over text weren't even reasonable. You were right.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have asked my assistant to text you something to let you know I was okay. I'm I haven't been able to clean your name from the drama. I just want us to be okay. Is that possible?"

He nods, and you hug him carefully. Not wanting to take a bad step and slip I to the shower.

"Te amo, please don't ever think I don't." You say. "And if I don't contact you after a flight, please know it's because I was: a, put into custody of the immigration department. b, probably death asleep. And c, maybe in the air with no phone battery."

You make him laugh, the sound of it being the only thing you needed.

"Te amo, princesa." He kisses your forehead. "I was an insecure person, and I'm sorry about it. I'm sorry about that text. Maybe all the shit did got to my head."

"Then let's wash it off." You interrupt him, joking about his hair having shampoo and foam. "It's okay, I get insecure too. And just like you do, I'll be here to make you not feel like it." You kiss him. You quickly pull away. "Maybe let's take this shampoo off of you, it taste terrible."

He laughs, pulling you a little to the water falling. "What if you let me help you shower that tension away?" He asks, kissing your neck.

"Your injury." You remind him.

"Don't worry, I have my hands to do the work for me." He smirks, hands traveling to the elastic of your panties. "I love you."

"Really?" You ask, breathlessly. You kiss him. Your hands reach for the lock on your bra, undoing it. "Show me." You say, taking the remaining clothes off.

yourusername

Liked by aurorapaezg, pablogavi, _ferminlopez and 6,483,382 others

yourusername a little appreciation post for this amazing boy, who also happens to be my boyfriend and one of my biggest supporters.

I love you to the moon and back. Thank you for everything, Pablo ❤️ You are the 6 on the pitch, but the 1 in my heart 🌸✨️❤️

View all 568,448 comments

aurorapaezg los amo mucho ❤️

yourusername te amamos ❤️✨️

pablogavi I love you, my one 🌸✨️❤️

gavifan1 AHHH HE'S USING HER EMOJIS😭❤️

gadrilover he calls her my one 🥺🥺🥺

_ferminlopez romantic much?

_ferminlopez so about those free tickets 😗

yourusername no ❤️

pablogavi 🤣🤣🤣

_ferminlopez @yourusername wow 👌🏻

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Another On The Way

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader (y/n)

Warnings: none

Y/N's pov

"No, no, no.." I covered my mouth with my palm as the tears ran down my cheeks in disbelief. I wanted to scream when I saw two lines appearing on the pregnancy test I had just taken. I put all my hopes in the fact that the test would be negative, considering the fact that only 5 months ago I gave birth to our beautiful little girl Sofia.

"Amor, is it done?" Carlos asked knocking on the door. I didn't even try to pull myself together before I opened the door in front of which he was standing holding Sofia in his arms. I opened the door and stared at him with teary eyes sobbing.

"Mi amor que paso por que lloras?" He asked worriedly placing his free hand on my cheek wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"Carlos, it's positive. I'm pregnant again." I broke down crying out loud into his chest.

"Hey, hey..shh." He pulled me into a hug rubbing my back. "Baby, it's okay, it's gonna be okay." He tried to comfort me, but at that moment I was inconsolable.

"How could we be so careless? We just had a baby.."

"Amor but I thought we didn't want to stop at just one child. We talked about how we wanted more."

"I know and I do want more, but I just wasn't expecting this to happen so soon. I'm not ready yet, I'm so scared."

Sofia was born 3 weeks before her due date because towards the end of the pregnancy things started to get complicated. in the middle of the night I was woken up by severe pain and had to go to the hospital immediately. The birth was laborious, long, difficult and painful. If Carlos hadn't been next to me in those moments, I don't know how I would have endured it. Luckily, in the end, everything went well and Sofia was born healthy and beautiful. I was so exhausted from giving birth that I was coming for days, Carlos had to help me walk and even get out of bed because I couldn't do it myself. but today when I look at Sofia and her big brown eyes, the same as Carlos's, I know that it was all worth it for her.

"I understand that you are scared, but you know that we are in this together as in everything else. I promise to be here every step of the way again and I promise you that you have nothing to fear." He said placing a kiss on my forehead. I'm so lucky to have him by my side through anything in life. He is my rock and as long as we are together I know deep down that I don't have to worry about anything because he will always be there for me.

"I know, but I just wanted us to give all of our attention to Sofi. I don't want to be away from you anymore and I want Sofi to be with you as well, she is so small, she needs you as much as I do." I sob looking at Sofia in his arms who playing with her tiny hands.

Towards the end of the 6th month of pregnancy, I could no longer go to the races with Carlos. it just became too strenuous and risky to go, so the doctor advised me to stay home and rest. I was in our house in Madrid all the time and I missed him terribly and it was very difficult without him, and my hormones and mood swings were not helpful at all. Thank God he was at home that night when I went into labor.

"Mi corazon te lo prometo, I'll make sure to be with you every spare second when I'm not racing. She already feels how much we love her and she will never lack for anything. I need you to be okay, baby." I take Sofi from his hands in mine and kiss her on the head, rocking her as she started to frown a little.

"I love you so much Carlos. Thank you. I'm so lucky that you're mine." My tears finally dried and I took a deep breath, now much calmer and happier than a few minutes ago.

"Todo para mis niñas. Te amo tanto." He says pressing his lips against mine and wrapping his arms around both of us. He always made everything so easy and he always let me know that I was forever safe with him.

[radio-fmm]

One piece men hear you speaking Spanish for the first time

Ft. Sanji, Law, Ace and Zoro

SFW, swearing in spanish ;), drinking, gn reader

Masterlist

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Sanji

“MIERDA!” (Shit) your scream was followed by a loud thud of the pan hitting the floor

Sanji immediately directed his attention to you running while holding his breath

“Are you o-“ he was interrupted by you mumbling something he couldn’t quite understand

“Puta madre esta demasiado caliente” (holy shit it’s too hot) you hissed while holding your hand close to your chest eyes shut together tightly at the sensation of the sudden burn

Sanjis worried look was replaced by a intrigued one as he realized everything that you were saying was in fact not english, it was something he couldn’t understand

“Let me see that, dear” he offers you his hand and you allowed him to look at the burn, he examines it throughly, being very familiar with this kind of injury, then he lightly touches the harmed zone of your hand making you squirm again

“AY IDIOTA” (you idiot) you remove your hand from his hissing in pain yet again

Sanji fetches the first aid kit as you stand still in your place blowing at your hand in hopes the pain will suffice, he asks you to sit down and you follow his instructions as he cures your burn cautiously

“So” he speaks after a while “What was all that you were saying earlier?”

“Oh…” you realize you had never mentioned that English is in fact not your first language “It’s Spanish, mostly curses” you answer a little ashamed at your behavior

Sanji felt himself fill with excitement at his new discovery “You never mentioned you knew other languages” curiosity itched him at the thought of hearing your voice say things he couldn’t decipher

“You never asked” you offer him a smirk knowing exactly what was going trough his head

“Could you tell me something else that isn’t curses? My dear?” You think for a second before obliging

“Gracias por cuidar de mi, mi principe” (thanks for taking care of me, my prince)

Sanji’s face was completely flushed, hands shaken and mouth dry, the way your voice and confidence shifted as you spoke your native language left him breathless and falling for you all over again

“I could really use some spanish lessons”

Law

You watched the doctor who sat at his desk flipping trough a medical book, his brows furrowed, you couldn’t ignore his annoyed huffs and puffs he had been making for a while now, you decided to interrupt whatever he had going on

“What’s with you, captain?” You giggle at the way he’s basically assaulting that poor book flipping it harshly

“This stupid book it’s not in English I don’t understand a damn thing” he answers still looking for a page, a title, a sentence he could read, anything

You come closer and peak above him looking at the words filling the book, you stop Laws hands for scavenging the pages as you start to read, your touch making him shiver

“La anemia provoca síntomas como fatiga, reducción de la capacidad para realizar trabajo físico y dificultad para respirar”

Law looks up at you surprised before you explain “This is basically explaining what Anemia is” you flip the page “And in here it talks about the flu” you point at the book smiling kindly at your confused captain

He would never admit it but he was really impressed and a little star struck at the way your voice sounded in a foreign language

“What were you looking for in here anyway?” You ask while flipping the pages

Law had to pull himself out of whatever spell you had casted on him before answering

“I bought it two islands ago but didn’t check it until now” his statement made you giggle, specially as you noticed the big title that read ‘Enfermedades y sus Síntomas’ (sickness and their symptoms) in the front of the book in gold bold letters

“I can translate it if you want” you kindly offer which pulls at Laws heartstrings, you were always taking care of him, he answers by shaking his head

“Do what you want” you roll your eyes at your dismissive captain before taking some paper and a pen from his desk

“Didn’t know you were bilingual” the doctor says still a little taken aback at this new information about you

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me” you wink before walking towards his couch, but you were stopped by a tatted hand holding your wrist and a playful smirk

“What about you read it to me instead?”

Red settles in your ears and cheeks before your eyes run aways from Laws and smiling shyly

“Don’t think you can handle all that Captain” you were obviously referring to all the information that the book offered, but the implications of you speaking another language and making Law nervous was obviously there, making him also blush immediately and his hold falter, but he wasn’t gonna let you have this one

“No no” he says before making you sit on his desk “Think I’ll do just fine”

Ace

“ACE DETENTE” (Ace stop) you screamed at the freckled pirate that had tossed you over his shoulder and threatened to make you fall into the ocean at the beach the Moby Dick had docked for the day. What once started as an uneventful aternoon in the beach turned into a wrestling match between you and the commander to see who would fall into the water first, and you were loosing

“What was that now?” He maneuvers you making you land on your feet as he smiles ear to ear intrigued about what you just said

“I said stop” you answered him as you catch your breath

“I don’t think that’s what you said” he starts approaching you slow and steady making you walk backwards as to avoid another attack, you return the playful smile plastered on his handsome face

“Dije Ace detente, sordo” (I said Ace stop, you deaf) you allow him to hear your Spanish once more gaining an even wider smile

“You sound soooo attractive like that”

You aren’t good with flirting, Ace’s smooth talk always manages to make you blush and stumble on your words and he loves it

“Stop it” you say pushing him back now

“I didn’t really understood that can you say it like the first time again?” You knew he wasn’t gonna let this newfound thing live down, you roll your eyes at the back of your head before obliging in hopes he’ll let you scape the danger of the water at your feet. You stop pushing him before standing on your tip toes allowing you to whisper in his ear

“Si me dejas ir te doy un beso” (if you let me go I’ll kiss ya) his breath hitched and a shiver ran down his spine freezing him in place. You stand back to meet his gaze as he stays ogling you, red blush painting his delicate freckles. Taking advantage you tackle him making him fall flat on the ocean

Your laugh explodes meeting Aces ears, still in shock by your teasing he lays on the water admiring your beaming smile that shines brighter than the sunset behind both of you. All he ever wanted was to make you laugh, there was no better price.

You offer him a hand to help him stand up, he takes it before pulling you down to meet the oceans salted water, squeaking at the coldness meeting your body

“You got me” you beam on top of him as he keeps drinking your beauty, wordless and enchanted

“You gotta keep speaking more like that y’know?” This man was absolutely lovesick, everything that had to do with you he loved, it was concerning

“Like what? Spanish?” You asked still surprise at his persistence on the matter

“Oh so that’s what it is” the comment makes you laugh once more making Ace’s heart swoon in pride, he is the only one that makes you laugh like this and he wouldn’t have it any other way

“I can teach you some”

Zoro

The strawhats found themselves drinking another bar dry, stretching your legs after weeks on end at sea and giving poor Sanji a break of having too cook yet another night. You were seated next to Zoro as you watched Usopp tell yet another over the top story about your adventures in the grand line to some locals, the ambience was so warm and welcoming allowing you to indulge in drinking at peace, or so you thought that’s how it was gonna be

A man drunk out of his mind stumbles to your side slurring his word and babbling about kissing you or something, at first you try to laugh it off but the man persisted. The swordsman catches your annoyed and uncomfortable face as you try to keep the wondering hands of the drunken away from you, anger building up in him at every stupid word that left his mouth, but before he could intervene he sees you stand up

“Dije que no! estúpido, aléjate!” (I said no you idiot, go away!) You scream at the man before pushing him, making him fall onto the nearby table

Zoro lets go of the hold on his swords as he watches you fix your clothes before muttering “Maldito idiota” (Fucking idiot)

Whatever you were saying it was in a language he had never heard you speak, he thought you only spoke English like almost everyone else in the crew. There was something in how your voice shifted that left him wanting to hear more. You speaking a completely different language was something that had never even crossed his mind

As you sat back down and took another sip of your drink the swordsman founds himself intrigued

“So now we’re screaming in different languages?” He asks smirking at you, the alcohol pulling his big walls down allowing you to climb them right up

“You know I love screaming” Zoro lets out a deep laugh, thinking what to ask as to make you say another thing in that beautiful tongue he had heard you speak

“Where did you learn that anyway?” You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised at the way he was making conversation with you, something he never did

“It’s my native language actually” he hums in response happy to know more about you before becoming a pirate

“Why so curious?” The question makes him stutter, caught red handed

“‘Just had never heard that language before” he lies trough his flushed face which you immediately catch and makes your heart clench, a smile tugging at your lips

You sit closer to him before you whisper, lips brushing his golden earrings tickling you “No me digas que no conocías el español, verdecito” (Don’t tell me you didn’t know spanish, greenie)

You giggle after feeling every single muscle on his body clench at your words as he now shone bright red. He takes a big swoon of his sake trying to drown the shyness out of him

You lay back enjoying the rest of the night, Zoro not being able to keep the way you spoke out of his mind ever again

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Of course I had to do this! RAAAH 🦅🦅🦅🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽 Also ty for more than 1k on my first one of these, ly guys enjoy

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗔𝗨𝗗𝗔𝗗𝗘

　　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt have a long-distance relationship. After months of not seeing each other, Y/N decides to surprise Matt in LA.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from @lizziesx

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed in relief as she left her last class of the day, closing her eyes momentarily and thanking that classes always ended early on Friday, before walking again, heading towards the Starbucks on the college campus.

A smile spread across her face when she saw her group of friends already waiting for her at their table, Julia already holding her usual, Caramel Machiatto.

"Oi meninas! (Hi girls!)" Y/N spoke with a smile in her voice, pulling out the reserved chair for herself, hanging her bag on the back of it, and sitting on the seat.

"Oi gatinha, como foi Direito Constitucional? (Hi kitty, how was Constitutional Law?)" Gabriela, who sat on her left, asked as Julia passed the drink to Y/N, who thanked her with a wink before taking a sip.

"Foi um porre, o professor adora pegar no meu pé, mas pelo menos eu tirei nota máxima no trabalho. (It was horrible. The teacher loves picking on me, but at least I got a perfect grade on my work.)" Y/N rolled her eyes, snorting at the mention of her teacher.

"Eu sei exatamente o que vai levantar o seu astral. (I know exactly what will lift your spirits.)" Anna, the third and last girl in the group, spoke as she raised her right hand, receiving everyones attention. "Achei um barzinho incrível na Vila Madalena, álcool é a solução pros nossos problemas. (I found an amazing bar in Vila Madalena, alcohol is the solution to our problems.)" She finished, a smile on her face, she was their typical Happy Hour organizer.

Julia and Gabriela smiled equally big, nodding their heads. By Brazilian tradition, Happy Hour always took place on Friday, so they were already looking forward to the idea through all day.

"Bora, amiga? (You coming, bestie?)" Anna turned to Y/N, waiting for confirmation after not seeing her react like she usually did.

"Não vou conseguir, meninas. Vou pra LA hoje. (I can't make it, girls. I'm going to LA today.)" She replied, unable to contain a smile when she mentioned the city.

"Hmm, vai visitar o boy? (Hmm, are you going to visit your boy?)" Julia said with a smile, stirring her drink with the straw.

"Sim, fazem meses que não nos vemos e não aguento mais só falar com ele por Facetime. Comprei passagem para ir hoje, e volto na segunda-feira, infelizmente. Se eu faltar mais uma aula, eu me fodo. (Yes, we haven't seen each other for months, and I can't stand just talking to him on Facetime. I bought a ticket to go today, and I'll be back on Monday, unfortunately. If I miss one more class, I'll get fucked.)" Y/N explained, taking a sip of her drink.

Y/N and Matt met on one of the girl's trips to Los Angeles years ago when she was still in her gap year, she and her parents had a house in the city and always went there on every vacation.

Their first meeting was an unusual one, but it caused the two to exchange numbers, keep contact, and, consequently, fall in love.

Because Y/N is Brazilian, lives with her mother in São Paulo and studies law at Mackenzie, she needed to travel back and forth from Brazil to be able to see her boyfriend in LA, since she wanted to finish her studies in her country.

The two agreed to continue their relationship in a long distance, and surprisingly, they handled that format very well. Their love for each other only intensified every day, and they felt like they fell in love all over again every time they saw each other in person, always reminding themselves that distance gave them a reason to love harder.

"Você vai de carro até o aeroporto? Ou sua mãe vai te levar? (Are you going to drive to the airport? Or is your mom going to take you there?)" Gabriela turned to her, seeing her shake her head.

"Nenhum, eu vou de Uber. O vôo é às 12pm e minha mãe tem plantão no hospital hoje, e eu não quero deixar meu carro no estacionamento do aeroporto. (None, I'm taking an Uber. The flight is at 12 pm, and my mom has a shift at the hospital today, and I don't want to leave my car in the airport parking lot.)"

"Eu te levo, amiga. (I'll take you, babes.)" Julia interrupted. "Depois eu me arrumo e vou direto pro tal bar que a Anna achou. (Then I'll get ready and go straight to that bar that Anna found.)"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Aproveita o seu boy e manda atualizações no grupo, eu quero saber tudo. (Enjoy your boyfriend and send updates to the group, I want to know everything.)" Julia spoke as she closed the trunk of her car, helping Y/N place her bags onto the airport cart.

"Eu prometo que vou atualizar vocês todos os dias. (I promise I'll update you every day.)" Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, smirking. "Obrigada pela carona, amiga. (Thanks for the ride, babes.)" She added, pulling Julia into a tight hug.

"Não precisa agradecer, só mandar o pix. (No need to thank me, just send the pix.)" Julia responded jokingly, laughing when Y/N slapped her arm.

"Idiota. (Jerk.)" Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile on her face, walking up the sidewalk and starting to push the cart with her bags.

"Também te amo! (love you too!)" Julia shouted as she got into her car.

Y/N quickly entered the airport, fishing her phone out of her jeans pocket and unlocking the screen, searching for her flight information. Her eyes read the boarding gate before putting her phone away again and pushing the cart to the check-in counter.

The process didn't take long, and soon, Y/N was able to sit in one of the chairs near her gate, taking out her phone again and unlocking it. Her thumb searched for the messaging app, opening it and seeing some chats with new texts.

The girl ignored all of them, as usual, and clicked on her mom's one, reading the latest texts.

"Honey, Matt sent me a text, he said that you haven't spoken to him all day and he is worried, thinking that you died."

"I said you had a test today at college and you couldn't use your phone during it."

"I think it's a good idea for you to send him a text before he's the one to come to Brazil."

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying to hold back her laughter. They were both so dramatic.

The girl sent her mom a brief text letting her know that she was already at the airport and assuring her that she would talk to Matt.

Her thumb clicked the back button, and her eyes quickly found Matt's chat, seeing 10 new messages and 3 missed calls. Y/N rolled her eyes, not holding back a smile. She understood why he was so worried, since the two of them talked via messages and calls practically all day long, every day, her not sending anything other than a "good morning, my love" was worrying.

But it wasn't her fault that, after class, she had to go home quickly and pack her bags, which she obviously left to pack at the last minute.

Y/N briefly looked at the time, knowing that Los Angeles' time zone was different from Brazil's, before clicking the call button, waiting for her boyfriend to answer.

"Baby?" Matt's voice sounded on the other end.

"Hi my love, I'm sorry for not talking to you today. I had a test this morning, and I couldn't use my phone during it." The girl spoke, persisting in the lie created by her mother, as her eyes traveled across the space in front of her, seeing people walking back and forth with suitcases in their hands.

"It's okay, I was just worried." The boy spoke in a low tone. The sound of objects moving in the background echoed through the line. "How was the test? I'm sure you did well."

"It was-" Y/N looked up at the flight board, seeing that hers was taking off in 20 minutes, meaning they would soon announce it, and the girl would have to board. "It was great, baby. Honey, I need to go now, Julia is here at home doing some college work. I'll call you later. I love you, bye." She spoke quickly, cursing under her breath after hanging up the call.

She knew Matt would be sad about the way she acted, but she hoped that she going to LA would be enough for him to forgive her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sound of the plane pilot's voice coming through the speaker woke the girl from her sleep. Her eyes opened as her ears picked up the message that the landing would be made in a few minutes.

Y/N straightened up in her seat, her eyes going to the window on her side, seeing that the sky was almost completely dark. She took her jacket out of her purse, wanting to protect her bare arms from the cold of Los Angeles, since in Brazil was 40°C and here would be 9°C. She prepared her body for the thermal shock.

The shudder of the plane warned her that the landing was going to happen, her hands tightly gripping the arm rest as her eyes closed. She hated that feeling.

A few minutes later, passengers were allowed to leave. Y/N got up from her seat and grabbed her purse, following the line of people until she entered the airport. The girl unlocked her phone and saw that it was already 7 pm LA time. Her notification bar was full of messages from Matt, which made her heart sink. She could only imagine the anxiety her boyfriend was feeling.

Her eyes went over the last text he sent 10 minutes ago, warning her that he would film the car video with his brothers in 20 minutes. A smile spread across her face, her plan would work.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Matt, get rid of that ugly face right now." Nick spoke from the backseat, leaning on the side of Chris's seat as he looked at Matt's side profile.

"No can do. He's naturally ugly." Chris said, letting out a laugh followed by a yell when Nick slapped his forehead.

"Shut up, dumbass. we all look the same."

The oldest leaned away at lightning speed when he saw Chris quickly turn around with an angry expression, his right hand raised, ready to hit Nick back.

"Hey, stop!" Matt said, placing his left arm between the two of them.

"Then get rid of that angry face." Nick ordered again, leaning against the sides of the front seats, meeting Matt's eyes in the rearview mirror momentarily.

"He's like this because his little girlfriend has been ignoring him all day." Chris said as he looked at the camera, smiling when he saw Matt cross his arms and sigh deeply.

The two of them didn't know what was going on between Matt and Y/N, or if anything was going on at all, but Matt had been frowning since that morning, walking around the entire house while cleaning up all the messes he put his eyes on.

Nick had asked him what happened at one point in the day, but Matt just said that Y/N was acting weird before turning his back to his brother, going back to cleaning the video game equipment in the living room.

A knock on the window on the passenger side made the boys jump in fright; Nick let out a scream, pushing his own body onto the seat behind Chris's, while Chris bent down and covered his head with his hands, as if that would protect him from whatever that was. Matt turned abruptly towards the door on his side, moving his upper half away from it, almost lying on top of the car console.

It took a few seconds for Matt to register that whoever was knocking on his window was his girlfriend. His blue eyes widened, and his mouth opened in a perfect O, his heart racing a mile a minute as he felt his hands shake slightly.

"Are you really going to leave me standing out here?" Y/N's voice sounded muffled as she took some steps back and smiled, her right hand hidden behind her back.

"Y/N!" Nick shouted, jumping into his usual seat and pulling on his door handle repeatedly while begging Matt to unlock it.

"Y-Y/N?" Matt whispered, still in disbelief, ignoring his brother completely.

"If you don't open that door right now and give your girl a good kiss, I'm going to hit you." Chris spoke after straightening up in his seat, fixing the beanie on his head. "Go!" He spoke loudly, pushing Matt, who seemed to finally wake up from his trance.

The brunette's right hand flew to the button to unlock the doors, clicking there before pulling the handle, opening his door with a thud.

Matt had never gotten out of his car so fast, his feet running a few steps until he reached Y/N, pulling her into his arms in a tight hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground and spinning her in the air, a loud laugh escaping his mouth as he closed his eyes, praying in his mind that this wasn't just a dream, but that if it was, that he never had to wake up again.

"Baby, I... you..." Matt pulled away slightly, shaking his head as he tried to process that his girlfriend was actually there, right in front of him. His blue eyes ran over Y/N's face and body, recording her image in his mind, despite already having it drawn, painted, and stuck in his soul. "You are here." He whispered, his eyes burning with tears.

"I'm here, baby." Y/N spoke in the same tone. "Oh my love, don't cry." Her eyes filled with tears as well, and a laugh escaped her lips. God, she loved him so much.

"So that's why you were ignoring me." Matt sniffled. His right hand went up to his face, passing them over his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I had to stop answering you for a while so I could prepare this surprise." She spoke, feeling her heart racing and butterflies in her stomach from the look in Matt's eyes. He looked so amazed. "But I have a present for you, as an apology." Y/N said slowly before taking her hand away from her back, showing the prettiest bouquet of tulips.

"Oh my-" Matt's eyes were wide, and his mouth was open, his heart freezing for a few seconds before speeding up like never before. Tears escaped his eyes without him even feeling them, while his cheeks burned with adrenaline. "This is for me?" He asked, perplexed.

"Of course, meu amor (my love). I saw it on the way here, and I thought: "Why not buy beautiful flowers for the prettiest boy in the world?"" She said softly, her eyes scanning his reactions closely.

"Thank you so much. I've never received flowers before." He sniffed, taking the bouquet delicately, as if any sudden movement could destroy it.

"They are so beautiful together." Chris commented a little away from them, his eyes also filled with tears. What they said was real. When a triplet cries, the other two cries as well.

Nick, who was next to Chris, nodded, a giant smile decorating his face as his hands held the camera, the lens focused on the couple, capturing the cute moment.

"This is true love, Y/N came all the way from Brazil just to see this idiot, and she brought flowers!" Chris continued to Nick in a low tone, not wanting to disturb the couple.

"At least now he'll be able to film today's video properly. He was worse than Grumpy from Snow White." The oldest triplet muttered from behind the camera loud enough for Matt to hear, letting out a laugh at the dirty look he gave him.

"Yes, but he's my Grumpy." Y/N spoke up, receiving grunts of disgust from Chris and Nick and a laugh from Matt.

The brunette took his free hand to Y/N's cheeks, pulling her lightly for a kiss, the first of that night. A contented sigh escaped the girl's mouth, who instantly relaxed and brought her hands to Matt's covered waist, squeezing the hoodie over her fingers while feeling like fireworks exploded inside her.

"Ew guys, that's enough love for one night." Chris said, covering his and Nick's eyes playfully.

Y/N pulled away from Matt, unable to contain her laughter, finally turning to the other two brothers.

"I think you have a video to film, don't you?" She asked wryly, smirking as she saw Chris roll his eyes and raise his arms in surrender, as if he hadn't been crying just seconds ago.

Nick turned, walking back to the car to put the camera in its place, and Chris followed, getting into the back seat next to the one Nick sits.

"I'll demand my hug later, Y/N." Nick shouted from inside the driver seat, trying to balance himself on it as he fiddled with the camera's focus.

"What do you think about being our guest on today's video?" Matt hugged her from behind, securely holding the bouquet, while resting his head in the crook of Y/N's neck, breathing in the scent of his girlfriend's perfume that he missed so much.

The girl smiled, even though he couldn't see it, stroking his left hand that rested on her waist while nodding her head.

Their fans would go crazy.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

dad!ruben plissss🥹

You ask and I deliver😌 However, I'm sorry if this not what you wanted nor expected, did this at 3am😭 sorry. Let me know what you think, please!

O Meu Pai -R.D3

Summary: Vitória is daddy's little girl and her daddy, Rúben, loves her

"Toya, c'mon baby" You spoke lightly "C'mon we've to get you ready para irmos ao aniversário da avó Bernadette!" (so we can go to grandma Bernadette's birthday!)

"Are you and Pai matching?" You smile nodding

"And so are you, dear" You kiss your babygirl's four years old hair before getting out of her closet a light blue dress to match outifts with you and your six years husband, Rúben.

You listen to her sing some children's songs as you got her clothes on her, as soon as you turned around to grab her shoes a knock on your door came in.

"Como estão as minhas meninas?" (How are my girls, doing?) Rúben asks pecking inside the room "Meu Deus!" (My god!) He gasps "You are so pretty!"

"Pai!" Vitória yelled in your ear as you were putting her shoes on

"Don't yell in mamã's ear, baby" You tell her with a small smile getting behind her to do her hair

"Sorry, mommy" She said softly kissing your hand.

You smile looking at Rúben who has a loving look on his face, whenever he tells you "Sorry" he gives a kiss on your hands or cheeks and your daughter picked up on it.

"No worries, baby" You kissed her cheek too and start working on her hair.

"Vitória, did you get your present for avó Bernadette?" Rúben asks, sitting next to her

"I did! I did a drawing for her!"

"Where's is it? Let me put in the bag so we don't forget about it"

"Right there!" She lifts her arm and points to her small table.

Rúben gets up from the floor and goes to her table to grab the drawing she made, you see the smile on his face and instantly smiled to yourself. You finished her ponytail and secured the small braid you did at the side.

"Vitória, baby. Why don't you go to the living room and play for a bit with Simba and Nala?"

"Is everything alright?" She asks seeing her dad silent

"Yes, babygirl." You say "I gotta talk to daddy really quick"

"But make it quick 'cus we're going to be late!" She says before getting out of her room.

"Just like her dad" Rúben laughs softly "Everything good?" You get up and stand right next to him

"I just can't help but think our baby's growing so fast. She used to draw the big and happy sun at the side of the paper, now she does it on the middle!"

"She's still young, Rú" You giggle "Also, she's learning that the sun comes out from one side and hides from the other, maybe she drew this in the early afternoon?"

"Or maybe she's just growing up?"

"Well, that's life and it's cyrcle" You kiss his shoulder "You're still going to be the man of her life, always. You know it, right?" He nods

"Until she gets married"

"No. You'll still be" You shake your head "But there's a long way until that happens. So let's enjoy her and her early life before she turns 18, starts brining guys home and wants to do a piercing"

"That will not happen!" You laugh kissing his lips

"You're cute. C'mon, grab the drawing and let's go. We'll be late if we stay here and missy Vitória Y/L/N Dias, doesn't like being late"

"She really doesn't"

"I'm telling you, just like her dad" He wraps his arm around your waist, pull you closer to him and kisses your lips softly

"You look gorgeous"

"And you look extremely handsome, love"

"My wife picked this outfit for me"

"She's a fashionista" You whisper before kissing him once again

"Mãe! Pai! Hurry up, we'll be late!" You open the door from her room as you both went out

"Toya, come on babygirl! Let's get to grandma's!" Rúben says before you hear a small "Finally!"

°°° °°° °°°

"A mãe e o pai estavam a demorar muito tempo!" (Mom and Dad were taking too long!)

"Guys" Iván, your brother in law says looking at you and at Rúben "Keep it in your pants"

"Jeez, we weren't doing anything!" You reply "We were actually talking about Vitória's boyfriends?"

"Do you have boyfriend's, Vitória?"

"No! They are little ugly monsters who will only infect me!" She said before running to her dad's legs

"That's right, baby" Rúben says, you give him a look but he doesn't act on it

"Boys will not infect you, Toya" Beatrix, one of your in-laws, says with a small smile

"Either way! I don't wanna be contaminated" Toya says nuzzled in her dad's shoulders, her small arms wrapping around his neck

"Jesus Christ" You mumble to yourself before taking a deep breath

"That's my girl!"

"Rúben!" All of you scolded him as he opened his eyes and mouth

"My daughter, my ways to evite her heartbreak"

"Filho" (Son) Joao, Rúben's dad, says softly with a small smile "You're just like me"

"Like father, like son" Bernadette says making you all laugh.

"Hey, Vi" Carolina asks "Want for me to paint your face?"

"No. Pai"

"C'mon, minha filha" (my babygirl) "I bet you'd look pretty with a pretty drawing and some glitter on your cheek. Would you like that?" She nods

"But I want to cuddle with you, pai"

"You behave like a good girl with your tia and then we will cuddle while watching some cartoons and eating some food mamã and avó did, what do you think?"

"Yes, please" Rúben put her down watching Vitória run towards her tia and then laughing with her.

"I think she's too spoiled by you" Your voice comes in through the now empty living room

"Nah, I don't think so" Rúben smiles "She's just my babygirl"

"And you're her pai. She definitely preferes you over me"

"That's not true" You give him a look and after some silence he answered. "She's just a daddy's little girl, that's normal"

"She is"

"I love it"

"I know you do"

"I love you"

"And I love you too, Rú" You smile

"Can we start practicing for a sister or brother for her?"

"You want another one? Right now?"

"I do" He nods "You?"

"I do" He smiles getting closer to you so he can kiss your lips "How do you think she'll react to a sibling?"

"Mad because you are hers, I'm hers and nobody else's"

"We will have to explain that to her" You nod

"But let's wait 'till baby is in the oven" You mention your tummy "once that happens we can start planning everything"

"You're getting lucky as soon as we're getting home" You laugh blushing. Thank heavens you were the only ones in the room.

"Mãe! Pai!" Toya's voice gets closer "Look at the bee, tia made!"

"You look so pretty!" Rúben says impressed "So you're the queen bee, right?"

"I'm princess Bee, mãe's Queen Bee and you're King Bee, pai" She gave you a kiss on the cheek and a kiss to her dad.

"That's correct, love" Rúben kisses her non-draw cheek. "Ready to cuddle for a bit? What do you want to watch?"

"Barbie Princess and the Pauper!"

"You always know my favorites, don't you?" Rúben asks underneath his breath as he gets into the couch finding a nice and comfy spot

"That's why I ask for them, they're our favorites!"

"We need to sing our hearts out!" Toya laughs shaking her head

"Pai, this isn't our house to yell"

"Well, I'm sorry. But we can't watch a Barbie movie without feeling it at it's fullness"

"You're right, pai; so let's sing it then!"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela