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soleilpinto · 14 days ago

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DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Tower Moments °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Unserious behavior, (some) inaccuracies bc lets face it, even if you are an F1 fan you still get things wrong (😭), fighting w Franco and ofc another crash

Note: Happy new year everyone! I can’t believe we’re already halfway through the series. This year has been such a rollercoaster with so many ups and downs, hopefully we get to see more of that in F1 soon, more ups than downs (and hopefully more of Franco). Love you all and thank you for the unbelievable support once again!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV./NEXT.)

@f1obsessed123 not y/n ditching williams for mclaren out of nowhere. girl, what happened?? 💀 #vegasgp

@pitlaneee from being ‘casual’ with franco, to now being a papaya girl? y/n’s really committed to keeping us on our toes 😭

@oversteerchic i need answers. y/n has been repping williams all season, and now she’s mclaren? what is going ON? 😳

@dr3hyper not people acting like she didn’t rep vcarb AND mclaren before she was even over at williams

@f1teaspiller okay but hear me out: y/n switched teams because of franco. i’m connecting the dots, people🕵️‍♀️

The Las Vegas Grand Prix buzzed with its usual energy—fans flooding the paddock, the flashing lights of the Strip in the background, and the distinct hum of engines roaring in the garages.

You’d been invited to both Williams and McLaren hospitality for the weekend, but somehow, you found yourself seated in McLaren’s bright, sleek lounge, a papaya lanyard around your neck.

The decision to hang out with McLaren wasn’t entirely intentional—or maybe it was. You’d started the day visiting the Williams garage, exchanging friendly hellos and taking a few casual photos for your social media. But by evening, your Instagram story was a full-blown McLaren takeover.

“Alright, one more time,” Lando said, tossing a playful arm around your shoulder as he grinned at the camera.

The McLaren PR team snapped away, and Oscar stood to your other side, holding up a peace sign.

“You know, this is the most McLaren content I’ve ever posted,” you joked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you handed your phone to Lando to snap a selfie.

“Well, welcome to the better side of the paddock,” Lando quipped, smirking. “Papaya looks good on you, by the way.”

Oscar chimed in, his tone light but teasing. “Careful, Lando. She’s supposed to be neutral.”

“I’m just visiting,” you laughed, but the comment hung in the air longer than you intended.

You glanced at your phone, the likes and comments piling up.

— Y/N in the McLaren garage?? WHAT IS HAPPENING???

— Not her switching to McLaren… does Franco know about this??

— Wait, did they break up?? She’s with Lando and Oscar now???

The whispers in the paddock weren’t far behind. When a friend forwarded you a post from a popular F1 gossip page a few days after the Brazilian Grand Prix, your stomach dropped.

Franco had been spotted with someone else—a woman who was older and carried a reputation for stirring trouble.

The caption read: Franco Colapinto seen with an unexpected companion after the Brazil race… trouble in paradise with Y/n?

“Great, just what I needed,” you muttered under your breath, seeing Franco walking by as you scoff in disbelief.

“What’s up?” Lando asked, leaning over to peek at your phone. His eyebrows shot up as he read the caption. “Yikes. That’s… not great.”

Oscar glanced over, frowning. “Wait, is that about Franco?”

You nodded, pressing your lips into a thin line. “Apparently. They’re already calling him a cheater and a liar.”

Lando scoffed, shaking his head. “Gossip pages will say anything for clicks. I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

“Still,” you said, your voice quieter now, “it’s not exactly fun to see.”

“You okay?” Oscar asked, his expression genuinely concerned.

You shrugged, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just… it’s a lot. People are already jumping to conclusions.”

“Well, if you’re hanging out with us out of spite,” Lando teased, trying to lighten the mood, “at least let me know so I can make it look convincing.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite the tension swirling in your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Norris. I’m here because I want to be.”

“Good,” Oscar said, his tone soft but firm. “Because you’re always welcome here.”

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but notice the pointed stares from fans in the paddock and the occasional murmur of your name as you passed by. The drama was snowballing fast, and the gossip pages were eating it up.

Later, as you sat in the McLaren hospitality suite, sipping a glass of water to calm your nerves, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from one of your friends.

“You’ve seen the rumors, right? Are you okay?”

You sighed, staring out at the track as the lights of Vegas twinkled in the night, creating a show of the glitz and glamour that came with sin city.

“Yeah,” you whispered to yourself, though you weren’t entirely sure it was true.

The day Franco was spotted with the woman, the weight of the rumors and the sight of him with someone else hit you like a freight train.

The feeling was immediate—raw, painful, and, for some reason, unsettling. You hadn’t expected to care this much, but there it was, gnawing at you.

In a daze, you pulled your phone from your bag, your hands trembling as you tapped his contact. The call rang through, the usual excitement of hearing his voice now replaced by a thick, uneasy silence.

“Pick up, Franco,” you muttered under your breath, as if the words themselves could will him to answer.

The phone clicked, and you almost sighed in relief when you heard his voice. “Hey, Y/N,” Franco said, a faint edge of surprise in his tone. “What’s up?”

Before he could say anything else, you cut straight to the point, your words coming out in a rush. “I saw the pictures. What the hell, Franco?”

There was a long pause, and then the sound of rustling—likely him running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about?”

“The woman,” you spat, feeling your heart race. “With you. Out in the city that night. Don’t play dumb.”

His voice hardened, but you could still hear the confusion. “Y/n, relax. It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think?” you repeated, your voice rising despite your efforts to stay calm. “Then explain it to me, because it sure as hell looks like you’re out here with someone else.”

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it is,” Franco said, his voice losing its patience. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” You were incredulous now, the words tumbling out. “Why are you even with her, then? What is it, Franco? Am I just some sort of… game to you? I thought you’d at least care a bit more to not humiliate me like this.”

Franco sighed, and the exasperation in his tone made your stomach churn. “Y/N, we’re not even actually dating. Why do you care so much?”

The words hit you like a slap, ringing in your ears. The hurt was immediate, settling deep into your chest as if your heart had been crushed.

You took a step back, forcing yourself to breathe, trying to keep your voice steady. “So, that’s it? Our friendship and everything nothing? This whole thing… it was just some game to you?”

There was a long pause before Franco’s voice came through, distant and unbothered. “Y/N, it was just for fun. You know that.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to ignore the sting of insecurity creeping in. He didn’t need to remind you—it was fake dating, you knew that. But hearing him say it so plainly made something inside you twist.

You exhaled, your response barely a whisper. “Yeah, I get it.”

The line went silent, and for a moment, you just stood there, trying to steady your breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest.

Franco’s voice softened, but you could hear the distance in it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, okay? It’s just... complicated.”

But you didn’t have the energy to respond. The weight of everything crashed over you—his words, the rumors, the disappointment. “I need space,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You ended the call without waiting for him to respond, the screen of your phone flickering as you stared at it, your finger hovering over the end button for longer than necessary.

Another lump formed in your throat, and for a moment, you just stood there in silence, the reality of it all settling on your shoulders like an unbearable weight.

The connection between you and Franco, whatever it had been, felt like it had snapped in that moment.

You tried to reach out a few more times over the next couple of days—texts, DMs, trying to keep up the act—but each time, the words you typed felt hollow.

The distance between you grew, and without him, the pretenses seemed meaningless.

The final straw came when he didn’t respond to one of your messages, and it was then that you realized—he wasn’t even trying anymore.

With a heavy heart, you stopped contacting him altogether.

liked by landonorris, lettiemng and others.

ynbardot vegas day 1 (feat. spontaneous dinner w friends) x

lilymhe stunning baby!

flavy.barla oh you’re glowing sweet girl

ln4enthusiast wait, lando in y/n’s post? did her and franco break up or...?

You tried your best to hide the knot in your stomach as you scrolled through your phone, the news of Franco’s crash during qualifying still weighing heavily on you.

His name was all over the timeline, and despite what you told yourself about keeping your distance, you couldn’t shake the worry.

You knew he was fine, but the image of him in the car, skidding out of control, kept replaying in your mind. You could feel your anxiety building, but you told yourself not to overthink it.

“Y/n, you good?” Lando’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you glanced up to see him giving you a concerned look.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly replied, forcing a smile. You didn’t want to seem distracted, especially with Lando walking you through the paddock on your way to McLaren hospitality. You had a job to do, after all.

But as you rounded a corner, you froze. There, standing near the McLaren hospitality, was Franco. His posture was relaxed, but his usual easygoing demeanor seemed off.

The second his eyes met yours, the tension in the air was palpable, even though he gave you a small, almost apologetic smile.

Lando, always the sharp one, raised an eyebrow as he glanced between you and Franco, clearly aware of the history between you two.

“Wait, why are you here, Franco?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he looked from you to the McLaren hospitality.

Franco’s gaze flickered uncomfortably for a second before he shrugged, his tone nonchalant but a little too forced. “Just... visiting. Thought I’d say hi, you know?”

Lando raised another eyebrow, clearly confused. “You visiting McLaren? That’s a new one.”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the situation. Franco’s smile was faint, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to navigate this, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to downplay the tension between you.

“Yeah, well... small world, right?” you said, trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness.

Lando, still eyeing Franco with a skeptical look, finally shrugged. “Alright, alright. Anyway, let’s head inside before the hospitality people think we’re getting into trouble out here.”

The three of you walked in, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Lando wasn’t quite buying the situation. The entire moment felt strange, but you pushed it to the back of your mind, following them into the McLaren lounge.

Later that evening, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. Franco’s name flashed on the screen, and despite the mix of frustration and confusion swirling inside you, you hesitated for only a moment before answering.

"Y/n," Franco's voice came through, sharp but laced with something else. "What was that back there with Lando? That whole... thing? What's going on with you?"

You leaned back against the hotel room wall, taking a deep breath. You had tried to shake off the tension, but hearing his voice again stirred everything you were trying to avoid.

You swallowed your annoyance, but it came out in your tone.

"Why do you care so much about who I’m with? We aren’t even dating, Franco," you said, the words harsher than you intended.

The silence on the other end was deafening, and you immediately regretted the way they’d come out. But the damage was done.

Franco's voice was quieter when he spoke again, though you could still hear the frustration beneath it. “Forget it, Y/n. It’s not worth it.”

You could feel the weight of the conversation hanging between you, thick and uncomfortable, but you refused to let it drag you down.

"Fine," you replied, voice almost flat. "We’re not dating, so what does it matter?"

“Yeah, right," Franco said with a sigh. "Just... forget it, alright? It's not worth this."

He hung up before you could respond, leaving you with the feeling that, despite everything, something had shifted. You sat in the silence, your phone still in your hand, wondering what exactly was worth it.

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