#Po5

[theonottsbxtch]

HOPELESS | PO5

an: first time writing pato and i know i've written him less cocky and flirty than i wold have personally expected him being depicted. but i think for this request it worked in my favour.

wc: 3.3k

Pato had never been particularly good with words, but that didn’t matter much in motorsport. Out on the track, skill spoke louder than conversation, and for the most part, he was fine with that.

But with her, it was different.

She was the first-ever Indy champion, a driver who had carved her name into history with raw talent and relentless determination. Everyone knew her, everyone respected her—himself included. The other drivers had stories about her, moments shared in garages and on podiums, inside jokes and easy camaraderie. He had none of that.

For some reason, he simply didn’t exist in her world.

It wasn’t that she disliked him. There were no grudges, no bad blood. She treated him with the same polite professionalism she extended to reporters or engineers she barely knew. And yet, when he spoke, her responses were clipped, transactional. If she laughed at a joke in the paddock, it was never one of his. If she scanned a room, her gaze slid past him like he was a shadow against the wall.

It shouldn't have bothered him. It did.

Because Pato had been nursing a hopeless, ridiculous crush on her for as long as he could remember.

It wasn’t immediate, this thing he had for her. It crept up on him, slow and insidious, like the way tyre wear set in over a long stint—barely noticeable at first, until suddenly, it was all he could think about.

Maybe it started the first time he saw her race, years ago, before he even had a seat in IndyCar. He remembered watching from the pit wall, the way she danced through traffic, fearless and calculated, wringing every ounce of speed from a car that should’ve been struggling. He told himself back then that it was admiration, the kind any driver would have for another at the top of their game. But admiration didn’t tie knots in his stomach when she brushed past him in the paddock, nor did it make him hyper-aware of every offhand comment she made.

No, this was something worse.

And she had no idea.

Pato had tried to make an impression—nothing over the top, just little things. A comment here, a question there, something to make him more than just another driver in the field. It never landed. She’d acknowledge him, sure, but only in the way she acknowledged anyone she wasn’t particularly close with. There was no spark of recognition, no shift in her tone when she spoke to him.

Everyone else had that with her. Everyone but him.

And the worst part? He had no idea why.

It wasn’t arrogance; he knew his place in the pecking order. He wasn’t naïve enough to think he deserved her attention just because he wanted it. But it wasn’t as if they’d ever clashed, either. He’d never taken her out of a race, never bad-mouthed her, never done anything that might explain why she skimmed over him like he was background noise.

He’d never mattered to her.

And yet, she was all that mattered to him.

He knew he needed to get rid of his hopeless crush on her.

It was stupid. Pointless. Self-inflicted torture.

He told himself that constantly, especially when she breezed past him in the paddock without a second glance, or when she laughed—really laughed—at something another driver said, like they were in on some joke he would never be part of.

He needed to move on.

Until they were paired for pre-season media.

For a whole week.

Pato stared at the email in his inbox, half-convinced it was a mistake. Media obligations were a necessary evil in racing, but they were usually spread out, different drivers rotating in and out for interviews, photoshoots, sponsor promos. This, however, was something else.

A full week of interviews, press events, and behind-the-scenes content. Together.

The logic made sense. She was the reigning champion, the face of the sport. He was coming off a strong season, a title contender in his own right. Pairing them up created a compelling narrative—two of the top drivers, side by side, setting the tone for the year ahead.

For everyone else, it was great marketing.

For Pato, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Because how was he supposed to pretend she didn’t affect him when he’d be stuck with her for seven straight days? When he’d have to sit next to her, answer questions about their "rivalry" (which didn’t exist, considering she barely registered his presence), and—God help him—probably pose for staged social media content where they’d be forced to look like they were actually friends?

He could already see it: a carefully curated clip of them laughing at some scripted joke, the kind of moment fans would eat up. She’d be effortless, charming as ever. And him? He’d be struggling to act like he wasn’t hanging onto every word she said.

It was going to be the longest week of his life.

The first day of pre-season media started early. Too early for Pato to be dealing with this.

He arrived at the studio ahead of schedule, hoping that being early would give him time to settle in. It didn’t. The place was already a whirlwind of activity—PR reps barking orders, camera crews setting up lights, stylists buzzing around like it was the Met Gala instead of a bunch of racing drivers doing press.

And she was already there.

He spotted her near one of the backdrops, talking to a producer, nodding along as they ran through the schedule. Effortlessly composed, like she’d done this a thousand times before. Which, of course, she had.

She was dressed in team gear, but even the plain polo and branded jacket looked good on her, like she belonged on the cover of a motorsport magazine. He forced himself to look away before his brain could start romanticising something as stupid as the way she stood—like she owned the room without even trying.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

Good.

Maybe he could get through this week by staying in the background, doing his job, keeping things professional. He just had to ignore the fact that every time she looked through him, it twisted something in his gut.

“Ah, Pato! You’re here.”

Too late.

One of the PR reps clapped him on the shoulder before steering him forward, right into her line of sight. She turned at the sound of his name, her expression shifting from polite focus to something neutral. Not cold, not unkind—just nothing.

“Morning,” she said, like it was an afterthought.

“Morning.” His voice came out steadier than he expected, which was a miracle in itself.

She gave a small nod, then looked back at the producer, clearly expecting the conversation to move on without him.

Of course.

The PR rep cleared their throat. “Right! So, you two are paired for the day, and we’ve got a packed schedule. First up—some quickfire Q&A for the socials, then a sit-down interview for the pre-season documentary.”

Pato nodded, determined to act like this was just another media obligation. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth overthinking.

Until the PR rep added, far too casually—

“And after lunch, we’ll be doing some fun challenges—bit of a ‘getting to know each other’ vibe. Teamwork exercises, that sort of thing.”

He froze.

So did she.

Her brows pulled together, just slightly. It wasn’t irritation, more like mild confusion—like she couldn’t understand why they had been chosen for something like that.

“Right,” she said eventually. “Sounds… fun.”

It didn’t sound fun. Not to her. Definitely not to him.

Pato had wanted her to acknowledge him. To notice him.

Now, for the first time in his career, they were going to be forced to interact properly.

And he had no idea if he was ready for it.

The first part of the day went about as well as Pato had expected—awkwardly, painfully, and with absolutely no shift in how she saw him.

The quickfire Q&A session was fine. Standard questions, standard answers. They sat side by side while an off-camera producer fired prompts at them. Who had the better qualifying record? (Her.) Who was most likely to be late to a team meeting? (Him.) Who had the worst taste in music? (Also him, apparently, judging by the way she scrunched her nose when he admitted to liking 80s rock.)

She didn’t laugh at him, but she didn’t laugh with him either. The same easy, effortless energy she had with other drivers wasn’t there. It was all business, like she was just getting through another obligation.

The sit-down interview wasn’t much better.

“Describe each other in three words.”

Pato hesitated. Three words. Just three? He could name 100 if she asked.

“Fast,” he said eventually, because obviously. “Consistent. And… competitive.”

She gave a small nod, acknowledging the answer, but there was nothing behind it.

When it was her turn, she barely hesitated. “Skilled. Focused.” A pause. “Quiet.”

Quiet.

It wasn’t wrong, exactly. He was quieter than most of the grid, more measured with his words. But coming from her, it felt less like an observation and more like confirmation—of what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe that she still didn’t really see him.

By the time lunch rolled around, he was convinced nothing about their dynamic was going to change.

And then, the afternoon happened.

The "fun challenges," as the PR rep had so kindly put it, turned out to be a mix of stupid icebreaker games and team-building exercises.

The first was a trust exercise.

“Okay, you know how this works,” the producer explained, gesturing between them. “Pato, stand behind her. She’s going to fall, and you’re going to catch her.”

Pato’s brain short-circuited.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, looking more amused than anything. “Try not to drop me, yeah?”

It was the first remotely casual thing she’d said to him all day.

He managed a smirk. “No promises.”

A tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. Not a full smile. Not even close. But it was something.

She turned back around, took a breath, and let herself fall.

For a split second, he almost forgot to catch her. Not on purpose—he just wasn’t used to her being this close, trusting him with something as simple as this.

His arms wrapped around her waist just in time, stopping her before she hit the ground. For the briefest moment, she was right there, weight pressed against him, her head tilting slightly as if she was about to glance back.

And then it was over.

She straightened up, stepping away, brushing her hands over her jacket like nothing had happened.

“Not bad,” she admitted.

Pato exhaled, forcing his brain back into normal function. “Told you I wouldn’t drop you.”

She hummed, considering. “I thought you said no promises.”

He blinked. Was she—was she teasing him?

Before he could figure out how to respond, the producer clapped their hands together. “Great! Next challenge—answering questions for each other. Let’s see how well you really know your gridmate.”

Her brow lifted slightly as she looked at Pato.

Gridmates.

They weren’t. Not really.

But for this week, maybe they had to be.

The rest of the week blurred into a cycle of press obligations, staged interactions, and an ever-present awareness that, for the first time in his career, she actually had to acknowledge him.

It wasn’t much—small, incremental shifts that barely felt like progress. But Pato noticed everything.

The way she started looking at him when he spoke, instead of through him. The way she started responding to his jokes—not always with laughter, but with a twitch of her lips, like she was holding something back. The way she started actually engaging with him, even if it was just subtle, throwaway comments between takes.

By the time they reached the final stretch of media duties, it was easier. Almost natural.

Almost.

The moment that stuck with him, though—the one that lodged itself in his brain like an unshakable thought—came on the second-to-last day, during lunch.

He hadn’t even realised she was nearby until she was standing in front of him, hand extended. A cereal bar. Nothing fancy. Just one of those standard protein bars the teams kept stocked for quick energy.

Pato frowned, looking between the bar and her face, like there was some hidden meaning he wasn’t catching. “What’s this?”

She tilted her head slightly, like he was the one being strange. “You haven’t eaten yet.”

He blinked. “How do you—”

“You always wait until the last second, and then you grab something just before the next shoot.” She shrugged. “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Pato stared. Not because it was a grand gesture—if anything, it was small. Thoughtless, even. Like she’d noticed, made a decision, and moved on without thinking too much about it.

And maybe that’s what got to him.

She noticed.

She noticed.

Before he could say anything, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing there, cereal bar in hand, trying very hard not to read into something that probably meant nothing.

Probably.

That night, Pato was actively losing his mind.

The cereal bar was still sitting on his hotel nightstand, untouched. He didn’t even like that flavour. That wasn’t the point.

She had noticed him. Noticed him. And not in the usual, fleeting, empty way where he barely registered in her head. She had paid attention. To his habits. To the fact that he was terrible at remembering to eat on time. She had walked over, handed it to him, and left before he could so much as process the fact that it had even happened.

What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

There was only one person he trusted to make sense of this for him.

His mother.

He pressed the phone to his ear, pacing his hotel room like an idiot, waiting for her to pick up.

“¿Mijo?” came her warm, familiar voice. “¿Qué pasó? It’s late where you are, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” he said, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m losing my mind.”

She sighed, the kind of exasperated sound that only a mother could perfect. “Ay, Dios. ¿Qué hiciste ahora?”

“Nothing! That’s the problem!”

A pause. “… Es por una chica, no?”

Pato groaned. “Of course you immediately know it’s about a girl.”

“Because you sound like your father when he was being tonto about me,” she said, unimpressed. “Who is she?”

He exhaled. “It’s—ugh. It’s her.”

His mother knew exactly who he meant. He had never explicitly told her about his hopeless crush, but she wasn’t stupid. The one time she’d come to a race and met his fellow drivers, she had taken one look at him watching her across the paddock and raised a knowing eyebrow.

“Ah,” she said, like that explained everything. “And what has she done to make you so dramatic?”

“She gave me a cereal bar.”

A long silence. Then—

“… Perdón?”

“A cereal bar! At lunch! She just—she noticed that I wasn’t eating on time and handed me one and walked away like it was nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I know it’s stupid, but she’s never noticed me before. Not really. And now she’s—she’s just—”

“Being nice?” his mother finished dryly.

Pato groaned. “Yes. No. Maybe?”

Another sigh. “Mijo, listen to me. You have been in love with this girl for—what? A year? More? And you’ve done nothing because you convinced yourself she doesn’t care. And now that she’s proving you wrong, you’re still doing nothing?”

“I—”

“Ay, Patricio.” When she used his full name, he knew he was in trouble. “What do you want? Honestly.”

Pato sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

“I want her to see me the way I see her,” he admitted, quiet.

His mother’s voice softened. “Then haz algo, hijo. Do something. Say something. Stop standing in the background of your own story.”

Pato closed his eyes.

She made it sound so simple.

It wasn’t.

But maybe… maybe it didn’t have to be impossible, either.

Pato barely slept.

His mother’s words looped in his head all night. Do something. Say something. As if it were that easy. As if he could just shake off a year of being invisible and suddenly be someone that mattered to her.

By the time 5 a.m. rolled around and his brain still refused to shut up, he gave up on sleep entirely. He pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his keycard, and made his way downstairs to the hotel’s outdoor pool, hoping that the quiet would clear his head.

And then he saw her.

She was sitting at the edge of the pool, feet dipped in the water, arms braced behind her as she stared out at the city lights reflecting off the still surface.

Pato froze.

His body screamed at him to turn around before she noticed him. But then she shifted slightly, head tilting at the sound of footsteps. Her gaze landed on him.

Too late.

He had two options: pretend he had some other reason to be here, or…

Do something.

Taking a slow breath, he stepped forward, pulling off his hoodie and tossing it onto a nearby lounger before sitting down a few feet away from her.

“You do realise this isn’t a race,” he said, nudging his chin towards the water. “No need to be this dedicated to aerodynamics.”

She huffed a quiet laugh through her nose, shaking her head. “It’s peaceful. And I couldn’t sleep.”

“Same,” he admitted, nudging his bare feet into the water. It was cool, not freezing, but enough to shock his system awake.

A beat of silence stretched between them. Not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either.

Talk, his mother’s voice nagged in his head. Say something.

“So,” Pato started, searching for anything to keep the moment from slipping away. “Since we’re stuck doing media together, I feel like I should get some information. Y’know, for survival.”

She raised a brow. “Survival?”

“Yeah. Like, what’s your go-to pre-race meal? Most important question, obviously.”

That earned him an actual smirk. “Pasta. Always.”

“Solid choice,” he mused. “Okay, follow-up: if you weren’t a driver, what would you be doing?”

She hummed, tilting her head in thought. “Something adrenaline-based. Maybe skydiving. Or stunt driving.”

Pato snorted. “I can definitely see that.”

“What about you?” she asked, glancing at him.

He blinked, caught off guard. Not just by the question—but by the fact that she was asking in the first place.

“Probably something quiet,” he admitted. “Maybe a mechanic. Or a watchmaker.”

That made her actually turn towards him, brows raised. “A watchmaker?”

He shrugged. “I like precision. Small moving parts. Everything fitting together perfectly.”

She studied him for a moment, like she was seeing him properly for the first time.

Before Pato could think too hard about that, he exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, last question.”

She arched a brow. “Go on.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

She hesitated, glancing away. “Extra media obligations. All day.”

Pato nodded, swallowing the mild disappointment that settled in his chest. “Right. Of course.”

But then—she paused.

“… But I’m free after eight. Why?”

His pulse kicked up, and before he could overthink it, the words tumbled out.

“Dinner,” he said. “Just as grid mates.”

She looked at him. Really looked at him. Then—her lips quirked slightly.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Pato’s brain immediately short-circuited.

“N—no,” he said too quickly, scrambling to backpedal. “I mean, it’s not—obviously not—”

“That’s a shame,” she interrupted, standing up and stepping out of the pool. She grabbed a towel, casually drying off her legs. “Because I would have said yes.”

Pato forgot how to breathe.By the time he managed to reboot his brain and form a response, she was already walking away, leaving him sitting there—staring after her, heart pounding, and officially, completely doomed.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore

[09wdc]

PATO O'WARD | Qualifying, Qatar GP 2024

[pumpkinpuffgirls]

Power of Five for Palestine!

Calling for a CEASEFIRE is the Powerpuff Way!

[aaron04jpg]

Pato’s Valentine Day gift💌

[moviecritc]

Being patos bestie and going crazy over that photoshoot 🧡

she's like a poem ⋆ pato o'ward smau

pairing: pato o'ward x bestfriend!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

warnings: none

a/n: i was flabbergasted by that photoshoot, i also included that one tiktok where he appeared covered in chocolate out of nowhere bc omg

remember that requests are open <33

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted a story!

[caption: there's a pato stuck to my piñata @patriciooward]

user1: oh to be that piñata

user2: whose birthday is it?

user3: you guys need to be a couple NOW

patriciooward just posted a story!

[caption 1: happy birthday bicho 🎉] [caption 2: you're such a weirdo but i love you] [caption 3: can't believe you made it to 25 after eating the whole box of cheese balls 😻]

yourusername: thank you wey 😘😘

user1: THREE stories for wishing happy birthday? you're such a simp

user2: pls just date her we know you want to 💋

patriciooward just posted a tiktok!

patriciooward they're also perfect for a birthday

view all comments

user1 I SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING PATO

user2 im still not sure if i want to buy them, do another one

user3 looks so good, and the chocolate too 🥰

user4 birthday? wasn't y/n's few days ago

user5 omg yess. we see you pato

user6 don't ask me how many time i've watched it

yourusername ⚠️jumpscare⚠️

user3 Y/N- user7 i can't with these two

patriciooward just posted!

liked by yourusername, elbaoward and 12,545 others

patriciooward Some shots from the other day :)

view all comments

elbaoward give this man a model contract

user1 i'm feeling woman things

yourusername oh wow

patriciooward just posted a story!

[caption: 🌊⭐️]

yourusername: who's that bitch? oh wait it's me 😊

user1: it's that yn???

user2: finally soft launching her

yourusername just posted a story!

user1: OK WE SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING

user2: oh pato and you are so together

user3: please tell me that you kissed at least

patriciooward just posted!

patriciooward she's like a poem i wish i wrote (she made me write this)

tagged yourusername

view all comments

yourusername aww 🥰🥰 you know this is just to win over your sister right?

elbaoward anytime babyy 😉😉 patriciooward wait no it take me too many years to date her you can't take her from me this soon :((( yourusername too late bye

user1 THIS IS JUST PERFECT

user2 it's like watching those friends that everyone knows they're gonna end together ACTUALLY getting together

user3 shut up this is so cute

user4 y/n has always been my favourite wag even when she wasn't

user5 i love that this isn't even a surprise no anyone

user6 we knew they were dating before they were actually dating user7 FRRR

[itskirtash]

f1 drivers as animals: rookies and reserve drivers

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Once again, no thoughts just vibes

[alonsoings]

what the hell is going on at arrow mclaren

[katelovesit]

at every table, i’ll save you a seat

[babybearnation]

So context before idea cheetas are high anxiety animals and zoos often times with introduce them to a dog at a young age to help. Idea cheetah hybrid!f1 driver! mreader x dog hybrid driver. Drives you could please include, Lance, Logan, Charles, Pato, and Oscar can be fluff head canons or smut. Your righting is amazing and I love seeing male reader stuff

this is such a creative idea, i love it!! sticking with fluff headcanons for now! also i chose different dog types for each driver to make it fun and this turned out more gn reader than male, i hope thats okay!

gn!cheetah hybrid!f1 driver!reader (fluff headcanons)

labrador retriever hybrid!lance stroll:

your first meeting went smoothly as lance was extremely friendly and was really eager to become your friend (and didn't mind at all when your friendship became something more)

the two of you love to shower the other in affection when they feel down as it usually perks you both up almost instantly

lance is willing to do almost anything to distract you from your anxiety, including playing games or making a fool out of himself - he just wants you to be okay :(

lance is always super proud of you after races, no matter how well you did, because he knows your anxiety makes racing even harder than it already is

golden retriever hybrid!logan sargeant:

unlike some of the other drivers, logan wasn't afraid of you at all when you first met, in fact, he bounded over straight away and all but demanded to be your friend

logan is a huge fan of affection and it was thanks to an accidental kiss from him that you two finally started dating

its not uncommon for you and logan to get in trouble with the fia because you two could be found racing each other or roughly play fighting in the paddock, scaring people in the process

after leaving f1, logan would still appear in the paddock, there to support you - sure, it was a little bit painful to be there but he loved you too much for that to matter more than it should

miniature longhaired dachshund hybrid!charles leclerc:

this excitable pup was just so eager to make a new friend that he didn't even register your cheetah ears/tail until much later on when someone asked how he wasn't scared of you

charles is very affectionate and loves to cling to you, cuddling up and barking at people when they get too close for his liking

charles has way more energy than you so you'll often have to throw a ball for him to chase whilst you're laying down until he collapses down next to you, all out of energy

shared podiums for you and charles are his favourite podiums in the world and he'll always kiss you on the podium without care for what the fia or the media will say

mestizo hybrid!pato o'ward:

pato was chatting your ear off before you could even be properly introduced to everyone, he's that friendly, but you greatly needed that kind of friendship so you and pato grew super close

this man is so affectionate - everything will be celebrated with a kiss or a hug or a cuddle (or more) if he is there to do so

very energetic and will try not to bother you if you're too anxious but sometimes he will just be sat bouncing his legs until you come over and agree to play with him

enjoys f1 weekends so much more now that you're there and will celebrate nonstop when you win/get on the podium because fuck yeah, that's his cheetah baby!

australian shepherd!oscar piastri:

unlike some other dog hybrids, oscar was a bit more hesitant to approach you at first until he was volunteered to be an anxiety dog for you - the two of you quickly became close

subtly affectionate - he'll link your pinkies or wag his tail so it hits your back or follow you around so you know he's there at all times

knows the perfect ways to distract you from your anxiety and will always be there when and as you need him - if you try and get over it yourself, he'll be upset but very understanding

you two on the podium together leads to a cacophony of noises because you start howling and oscar very weakly tries to copy you and then you two end up laughing so much, you sound like hyenas

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[gaynfls]

the atmosphere I keep it clear in my mother fuckin' prius

MFPR1US - sophie truax

[justandinchident]

What happens in Vegas… | Franco Colapinto x Pato O’ward x fem reader | + 18

The beauty of Las Vegas is that there were always a lot of people, there was always chaos, and there was always a nice party going on, whether it was Monday or Sunday.

It was no surprise that the Vegas GP was the same, there were a lot of celebrities and a lot of people from the motorsport world betting without worrying about whether they won or lost.

The wonderful thing? There were journalists everywhere, all ready to make sure that whatever happened there was news all over the world.

Luckily you are a stranger who had met two wonderful people by chance, so you could easily sneak in without being seen.

“Come to the room honey” you read with a smile as you took the elevator and you were thankful that the security was damn good because you wouldn’t find a camera and microphone in your way.

As soon as you arrived and knocked on the door, Pato immediately opened it, dragging you with a smile, he closed the door behind you and whispered a “Hi”, you smiled as you hugged him and you could see him, his clothes impeccable, you examined the room and saw Franco on the bed, with his hair disheveled, his clothes half-tucked and eating popcorn while watching some cliché Hollywood movie.

How much do you love the image.

Pato dragged you to the bed, where Franco hugged you tightly and you laughed “Amor…. What took you so long?” He whispered as he ate you with his eyes, making you blush.

Franco was younger than you, so he was more impatient, more inexperienced, and more curious. It wasn't that he didn't know what to do. He wanted to know a thousand and one ways to make you smile, laugh, moan...

“Leave her alone, Franco. There are a lot of people downstairs.”

“Las Vegas definitely never sleeps,” the Argentinian murmured as he caressed your legs, and you felt his nose on your neck, as he began to kiss and suck every spot, making you moan. You glanced at Pato out of the corner of your eye as he turned off the TV and got more comfortable.

Franco started kissing your neck, as he got rid of your clothes, admiring your beautiful and perfect skin “Dios” he whispered as he lowered his kisses to your chest and you felt yourself shudder as you felt the air harden your nipples, and then you felt his lips ready to suck on them, you shook your head, trying to avoid moaning, which only made Franco take it as a personal challenge, moving his fingers anxiously near your panties ready to touch you with too much desperation.

You saw how Pato approached to stop him “Calm down Franco” he muttered as he stood behind you and moved your panties to the side, showing the Argentinian your wetness “So cute, isn’t it?” Franco smiled as he wanted to touch your clit, but Pato stopped him “soft…” he whispered as he barely touched you.

“Pato… please…” you gasped as you felt Franco move to your other nipple, the wetness grew and you saw the Mexican smile, he loved creating your orgasm, keeping you on the edge, because he loved watching you have an orgasm after keeping you wanting one, seeing how you arched your back and rolled your eyes was an image that made him feel like a premature ejaculator again.

He touched the side of your clit, and you only moved to see if you could get a minimal touch, you felt him laugh in your neck, while he looked at you with a warm smile, he turned your face briefly and then kissed you, while he circled your clit and you let out a moan, you felt Franco get anxious, leaving your breasts to move you away from Pato and kiss you too, while he slowly laid you down, and kissed your abdomen, to move the other's fingers away and put his tongue on your clit, while Pato kissed you again.

You felt all the pleasure run through your abdomen and back. You could feel the skin on the skin of the pilots, and you could see Franco with his cheeks flushed as you ground your pussy on his face, feeling waves of more intense pleasure, looking for your release, while you grabbed Pato's cock to start masturbating him, however, he let out a laugh "you know that's not how it is, honey" he said as he stopped your hips, making you let out a whimper while making you look at Franco, as eager as ever, as he walked away with redness on his cheeks because he had managed to cum just by tasting you.

You saw the Argentinian grab his cock, still hard and full of semen, and with the tip, he touched your clitoris, your wetness and his only made the rubbing more pleasurable, he played with you a little, and then fucked you, under the watchful gaze of Pato, who only smiled while whispering dirty things in your ear.

“Dios amor” you heard Franco while you felt pleasure, Pato’s hand was on your lower belly and you simply felt tears on your cheeks, because you were not going to be able to hold back.

“Pato…” you whispered, as you began to feel a familiar heat.

“Sh… we’ve done it before love, you know, you have to make Franco feel good… you can do it” he said while playing with your nipples “You can do it, just look at him, so desperate for you, I’m surprised he hasn’t come again just by feeling you squeezing his cock.”

Franco blushed, as he closed his eyes and moaned, filling your insides, you squeezed your eyes shut, he just needed to move a little more and you could feel your climax, but no, he stopped, and you felt your orgasm starting to fade, Franco kissed you and you smiled, as he carefully pulled out of you.

Your breathing was labored and you watched as Franco laid down next to you, sweat on his neck, you watched Pato, as he examined between your legs “So pretty” he said as he stained his fingers with Franco’s semen and your arousal, you gasped at the sensitivity “open up” he ordered as he brought his fingers closer to your mouth and you obeyed “you want that orgasm don’t you?”

“Yes, yes…” you admitted intensely and he just laughed “Please…”

You watched as Pato played with all the mess you had between your legs, still, he didn’t touch you in the right places “It wouldn’t be the first time we left you without an orgasm, huh?” You look at the Argentinian who was paying attention to what he was doing. “A few weeks ago, in Mexico, we gave you some good orgasms, didn’t we? All because Franco read that article in which it said that a woman could have 20 orgasms, you got tired after seven.” You blushed as you felt him hold your legs and place them on his shoulders, he hadn’t penetrated you yet. “And in Brazil, you had a few, didn’t you?” He penetrated you halfway through his sentence, which made you moan.

You shook your head. “No…”

“No?” Pato murmured with a smile. “I’m pretty sure you did,” he said as he penetrated you hard.

“No…no… you left me on the edge, about five times, and then you said that today…” you couldn’t finish the sentence because the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Oh yeah… we left you all wet and sensitive.” He smiled. “You slept like a baby… don’t you want to sleep like a baby today?”

“I…I…” you moaned as you felt the pleasure “please…”

Pato examined your face, then looked at Franco, who had his cock semi-hard from the image you were causing, he let out a laugh as he made a sign to him. Franco kissed you and played with your nipples while Pato continued to penetrate you, he took the Argentinean’s hand and brought it to your clit, and you gasped.

“Please… please” you begged again, Pato felt you squeeze him and closed his eyes as he nodded. You whispered a “thank you” as you felt yourself allow yourself to feel all the pleasure, Pato fucked you harder, which led to both of you climaxing at the same time, you felt your eyes looking at stars and how you contracted on his cock.

You were catching your breath, as Franco kissed your neck and helped you lay down properly on the bed, your back on his chest, you smiled slightly as you watched Pato still have a sparkle in his eyes, you were coming out of your mental haze caused by the climax, Pato spread your legs, as he looked at your pussy.

“What are you going to do?” You whispered with your eyes half closed.

“Clean yourself up” he murmured as you watched his head devour you, you moaned as you felt his tongue, and you could feel another orgasm forming, Franco kissed you and you let yourself go, you could feel the vibration of the Mexicans laughter between your legs, as he continued with his tongue, you were so sensitive, your third orgasm was not long in coming.

You spread your arms as Pato brought water to Franco and you, the Mexican came over to kiss you lovingly, as he pulled you away from the Argentine to hug you in bed. “Are you okay?” He whispered and you nodded with a smile “Are you okay?” He asked Franco who just smiled as he hugged you from behind.

“It’ll be hard to leave in the morning like this...” you whispered, between laughs and sleep, Pato took your chin and you saw him nibble on his lip, nervous. “I mean… can I go now…”

“No!” Franco’s voice was too loud “I mean… if that’s what you want amor…”

Pato just smiled “What Franco means is that we don’t want you to leave… not today or tomorrow morning or in a week… we want you here”

“Really?” You looked at both of them and they both nodded, you smiled “I’d love to”

You saw them smile and Franco hugged you tighter “Gracias amor” he whispered into your neck as he let out a yawn “Rest”

“Rest” you murmured and looked at Pato “Rest”

“Rest honey,” he said with a smile, as the three of you drifted off to sleep.

[wickwackity]

cowboy pato u will always be famous to me

[masterandapprentice]

I had to make this as a gif ❤️

[aaron04jpg]

Grab your shirts !!

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · LONG HUGS ⋆ PATO O'WARD 🦢

pairing ☆ pato o'ward x fem! bff! reader

summary ☆ where pato and you've been bestfriends for a little too long

warnings ☆ cheating (not from pato)

masterlist | letterboxd

❛ stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love ❜

Y/N had lost count of how many dates she and Pato had been on. Although they weren't dates; neither had ever said to the other, "this is a date." They just met as friends to watch the sunset on the beach while eating pizza or to gaze at the stars in Pato's convertible or countless other get-togethers that always had a romantic tone, but never quite enough.

Y/N met Pato thanks to her sister; Y/N worked at a publishing house and was the one who edited and supported Elba's book project. Soon, they became friends, and Elba's starter pack included him.

Pato and she had been friends for two years, and they had been in love with each other for two years. It was almost love at first sight, although neither of them knew it yet.

In Pato's mind, Y/N only saw him as a friend, someone to have a good time with and laugh a lot, but nothing more. From Y/N's point of view, Pato was the most incredible person in the world, and she couldn't wait to confess her feelings.

At some point, Pato didn't see himself as enough for Y/N; she had a stable job, an amazing apartment, and a future that was not at all uncertain. While he was going from hotel room to hotel room and could be out of work at any moment. He saw himself as chaos for Y/N, almost like a problem.

That feeling worsened when, after returning from a race, they missed their flight, causing Y/N to almost get fired.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll talk to your publishing house, I'll tell them it was all my fault. Forgive me,"

Y/N couldn't believe how much Pato cared about her. She simply smiled at him and grabbed his hands, giving them both chills.

"It's okay, Pato. You don't have to talk to anyone, really. It's all fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

"You're not mad at me?" Pato was looking at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes imaginable.

"How could I be mad at you, silly."

Y/N let out a light laugh before hugging Pato as they waited for the next plane.

(...)

The race celebrations were the worst; hugs, kisses, touches… But everything was justified by euphoria. Y/N thought that his hugs were longer and more heartfelt than the ones he gave to others, but at the same time convinced herself that she was being delusional. Pato prolonged his hugs as much as possible to remember her when he went back home.

She had been the one by Pato's side during the Indianapolis 500.

“You go,” Elba had told her, leaving her speechless. “He needs you.”

Even now, she kept thinking about that phrase. Pato needed her. The idea of being so important to him caused all sorts of feelings. He was totally devastated, and when he saw Y/N, the sparkle in his eyes was instant. She hugged him and reassured him that there would be many more opportunities to win and that he had done an amazing race. They gathered enough courage and self-esteem to show up at the gala after the race.

It was no secret that the fans were crazy about them and that no one believed they were just friends. It was obvious for everyone except to them.

In the end, that day wasn’t so horrible for Pato, but only because Y/N was by his side.

(...)

The moment when Pato gathered enough courage to confess his feelings to Y/N was terrible. They had arranged to have dinner with their group of friends, and Pato was determined to confess to Y/N. He had spent the entire afternoon preparing his speech with his sister so he wouldn’t mess it up and was anxious for the moment to come.

But all his excitement dissipated when he saw Y/N enter with a man on her arm and introduce him to everyone as her boyfriend, Matt. She seemed to be incredibly happy with him, spending the entire dinner talking about how they had met and how amazing he was and how well he treated her. Pato gradually withdrew from the conversation, under the sympathetic gaze of his sister.

“I’m going outside to get some air,” Pato announced and waited a few moments for Y/N to make the slightest movement towards him, but she didn’t even look at him. She was distracted, laughing at one of Matt’s jokes.

“I’ll go with you,” said Elba, noticing Pato’s discomfort. Again, Y/N didn’t react.

They went outside, and Pato ran his hands over his face and hair, frustrated by it all. “I’m an idiot,” he said, with a saddened and angry expression. “I knew that sooner or later someone would beat me to it, but I didn’t think it would be right now.”

Elba pressed her lips together and put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I know. I had no idea she was seeing someone either. I always thought she would wait for you to make a move.”

Pato sighed. This was his fault, after all. He had taken too long to show romantic interest in her, so much so that Y/N hadn’t even noticed.

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No,” Pato’s response was immediate. “No, no, no. She seems happy,” he turned his head a little, seeing her through the glass with Matt’s arm around her shoulders. “If she’s happy, I’m happy.”

Elba knew he was lying; she could see it in the bittersweet expression on his face. And it was true, he was lying. If it were up to him, he would get rid of Matt right then and there and kiss her in front of all their friends.

(...)

His sister didn't listen to him and talked to Y/N anyway. They were at the former's house, preparing dinner for a movie night with Norbi when Elba brought up the topic.

“How are things with you and Matt?” she asked, while taking iced tea out of the fridge.

She noticed that as soon as she asked, Y/N broke into a wide smile. “Very well, he's on a business trip. But we're great.”

Elba also smiled, trying to conceal her true intentions a bit. “I'm glad to hear that.” She paused briefly, searching for the right words. “You know, I always thought there might be something between you and my brother.”

Y/N stopped what she was doing for a moment, as if recalling a past life. She couldn't find a way to respond to that without it sounding strange or suspicious, and by that point, Elba's comment had lingered in the air for too long.

“Oh really?” she simply said.

“Yes, I guess you two had that connection.”

“That connection.”

She repeated that phrase to herself many times over the next few days, pondering and questioning whether she and Matt had the same connection she had with Pato.

(...)

Elba's words lingered in Y/N's mind, but life went on as usual. That was until one fateful night when everything came crashing down.

Y/N sat on her couch, a half-empty bottle of wine next to her, and her eyes red from crying. Her phone, clutched tightly in her hand, showed the last message from Matt: “I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

She dialed a number she knew by heart. The phone rang, and Pato’s groggy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Pato,” Y/N slurred, her voice thick with tears and alcohol. “Can you come get me?”

Pato, instantly awake, sat up in bed. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I need you.”

Without another word, Pato was out of bed, pulling on his clothes. He glanced at his suitcases for tomorrows flight, but Y/N needed him now. Racing could wait.

He found her sitting on the front steps of her apartment building, shivering in the cool night air. Her eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and despair when she saw him.

“Y/N,” he said softly, crouching down beside her. “What happened?”

She fell into his arms, sobbing. “Matt… he cheated on me. I saw him kissing with some woman.”

Pato’s heart ached as he held her close. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve that.” He could feel the shivers in Y/N's body and how fast her heart was beating.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I feel so stupid, Pato. I thought he loved me.”

“He’s an idiot,” Pato said firmly, lifting her chin. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are is a fool.”

She laughed bitterly. “You’ve always been too good to me, Pato.”

Pato helped her to her feet and guided her to his car. Once they were settled inside, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I always thought there was something between us.”

Pato’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What do you mean?”

She turned to him, her eyes filled with a vulnerability he’d never seen before. “I’ve had feelings for you for so long, Pato. I just… I was too scared to say anything.”

Pato’s heart pounded in his chest. “Y/N…”

“I thought maybe you felt the same way,” she continued, her voice cracking. “But then I met Matt, and I tried to move on.”

Pato pulled the car over to the side of the road, unable to keep driving. He turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since forever. I was just too afraid to mess things up between us.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You…you love me?”

He nodded, reaching out to take her hand. “I do. I always have.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. “I love you too, Pato.”

Their kiss was soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened, years of unspoken feelings pouring out. When they finally pulled away, they rested their foreheads together, both breathing heavily.

“I know you have a race tomorrow,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with guilt.

Pato smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Nothing is more important than you, Y/N. Not even racing.”

She smiled, a real smile this time, and snuggled closer to him. “Thank you, Pato. For everything.”

He kissed her forehead, holding her close.

☆ request by: anon

can i pls request pato o’ward and reader liking each other a lot but for one reason or another they can’t be together? you can choose the reason why they’re not together, just a lot of pining and star-crossed lovers vibes <3

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted <3 maybe it's a bit messy but i wrote this at midnight so don't expect too much

[norway-gp]

patriciooward Que experiencia tan fregona, muchas gracias afición. Contento de haber ayudado al equipo sacar información importante de las nuevas actualizaciones en el auto para seguir peleando este campeonato mundial. Me quedo con hambre de subirme otra vez…

PATO O’WARD 2024 Mexico Grand Prix