#franco is there too for some reason???

[mctwinkdom]

I knew Oscar used to like some of Lando's intagram posts during their junior years, but I scrolled back for the first time to see for myself and y'all. It's bad. I didn't realize it was THIS bad, oh my god, that 2016-2017 run is diabolical, 15-16 yo Oscar knew what he wanted 😭😭

[lilacerull0]

you know that episode really fucked me up this morning

[applegreenrunnerbean]

starting a conspiracy theory that felipe drugovich poisoned that old man so he could drive in his home race

[no-144444]

the grid: when the media says something insane...

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req: Hi, I'd like to request a blurb about the drivers reacting to reader being talked bad about from an interviewer. Scenario-Interviewer: "Do you think the reason you lost today's race is because 'y/n' was here and had something to do with it?"

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

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Oscar Piastri: makes the interviewer feel dumb asf

“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's breaking your record of competing in every lap so far this year? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.

Oscar frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“I was just wondering if you count your partner, Y/n, as a bad luck charm now. This is her first Grand Prix, isn’t it?” 

He actually laughed in her face. “Do you seriously believe in shit like that?” he chuckled. “And no, it’s not her first, nor will it be her last.”

Danica stood, embarrassed. 

“Do you have any other questions?” he asked, polite as ever. She didn’t respond. “Thanks for the joke anyway, that was actually quite funny,” Oscar added as he moved onto the next interview, a bright smile on his face despite the poor race result.

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Lando Norris: insults the interviewer

“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's cementing your loss in the Driver’s Championship? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to compose himself. “If you’re talking about my girlfriend, I’d suggest you just come out and say it, Danica.”

“Alright then, do you see her as a bad luck charm now? Considering this is her first race, if I’m right,” she asked outright. Jenson rolled his eyes beside her as Martin just chuckled. 

“Not at all, she’s here to support me and I’d much rather have her here for a day like today than a win. It’s called a support system Danica, I’m aware of the fact that you’re not a fan of those, but some of us actually benefit from caring about other people. And another thing, all of my bad races, you’ve been there. Maybe you’re the bad luck charm,” his voice cut through the tension in the cold Las Vegas air like a knife, and Jenson and Martin just started laughing as Danica stood there dumbfounded. “Maybe I should ask Sky to not bring you around as much.” 

He handed the microphone back and continued on with his day, then posted this later: 

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and 479,933 others

landonorris: idc if ur bad luck ur too sexy to let go of 🥴

comments are disabled.

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Lewis Hamilton: protective much?

“It’s Y/n’s first race in years, and yet you DNF for the first time in months, do you want to give us some insight to that?” Danica asked. 

Lewis’s eyebrow raised and an annoyed smile made its way onto his face. “What are you saying right now?”

“Well, it’s just strange that her first race in years, 2 to be exact, is the one you don’t finish.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that she’s bad luck or something?” 

“Is that what you believe her to be?” 

“Fuck no,” he scoffed. “She’s my wife, is what she is. I’m grateful that she’s here. I love to share my love of motorsport with my wife, and I don’t feel sorry for the media that she's been preoccupied with being pregnant and busy to be here for the last 2 years. I love having her come and support me, and I’m happy that I didn’t finish the fucking race, I get more time with my family now. I cannot believe you enjoy making shitty headlines like this. Danica, maybe just stick to fucking driving.”

With that, he walked away, and later made this post:

lewishamilton

liked by pierregasly, francocolapinto, and 2,393,932 others

lewishamilton: my good luck charms xx

comments are disabled.

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George Russell: flabbergasted that someone would have the audacity 

“Sorry about the result today George, do you feel like external factors made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“Y’know, it’s been pretty tough all year with the car but it really felt like we pulled back to the top today, and it was just a shame that Lando went wide and pushed me into the gravel,” he shrugged.

“And you don’t see your girlfriend as a bad luck charm? It is her first race, right?”

He death-stared her for a moment. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, we just wanted to know how you react to knowing that it’s her first race and it’s also the race you DNFed in.”

“I don’t have a reaction,” he scoffed. “Your headlines are going to be written anyway, it doesn’t matter what I say. I don’t see her as bad luck or whatever rubbish you’re going to paint this as, and I don’t really care what you think about it. Anyway, it’s not like you have the monopoly on perfect races, Danica.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: awkward and insulted 

“Sorry about the result today Kimi, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“Umm…” he trailed off, looking at George confused. George shook his head, silently telling him not to answer. “I don’t know what you mean?” 

“Well there were external factors, obviously, but also your girlfriend was in the paddock for the first time this weekend, correct?”

He nodded. 

“So do you see her as some sort of bad luck charm, or something?”

He pulled a face of disgust for a split second. “No, not at all. She went to every single one of my F2 races so I don’t see how she could have been bad luck here when she was not bad luck there,” he shrugged. 

“So she’s not bad luck?” 

He chuckled awkwardly. “N-no. Like I say, she was at every one of my F2 races. I think she is lucky, if anything.” 

He walked away confused as George reassured him that they were just fishing for headlines and to ‘not give them the time of day’. He was slightly worried that you would think you were a bad luck charm and quickly found you and showed you that you weren’t.

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Alex Albon: shocked. 

“Sorry about the race today Alex, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“Umm,” he kind of chuckled. “I don’t think so? I mean it was so wet so I’m not shocked that I went off.”

“But in the garage, do you think you would’ve been more focused if your girlfriend hadn’t been there?”

He just stared at her with a slightly shocked smile as she held the microphone to his face. “Did you actually just ask that?”

She didn’t answer, just nodding. 

“Well, why don’t we think back to every other race she’s been at this year. Monaco, Canada, Silverstone, Austria, and Baku, which were all my best races this season, apart from maybe Canada.”

“Yes, but today she was-”

“In the garage, the same as she always is. Wow, you’ll really do anything for a headline.”

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Franco Colapinto: Sassy asf 

“Sorry about the crash today, glad to see you’re ok Franco. Do you think this weekend has been a bit more difficult because of distractions or something new being in a paddock? We saw that it was your girlfriend's first GP this weekend, could she have anything to do with it?” Danica asked. 

He did a double take, staring at her. “¿Qué? Is that really what you think?” 

She shrugged. “It’s only a question.”

“It’s a stupid question,” he scoffed. “¿Por qué traería mala suerte? She has been at every race so far and I haven’t seen anyone complaining.” (Why would she be bad luck?)

“So she’s not bad luck?”

He laughed. “Do I have to repeat things 3 times for you to understand?”

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Logan Sargeant: angry

“Sorry about the result today Logan, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

He stared at her, then pushed the mic away from him. “I’m not answering stupid fucking questions about my girlfriend.”

And he walked off. And posted this later…

logansargeant

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, jensonbutton, and 345,938 others

logansargeant: let's not bring my girlfriend into this, yeah?

comments are disabled.

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Daniel Riccardo: plays it off. 

“Sorry about the end of the race today Danny, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

He laughed, thinking she was joking. His eyes widened when he realised she wasn’t. “You think I can’t race because my girlfriend is in the back of the garage?”

“It is her first GP, correct?” 

He chuckled. “No, no it’s not. She’s always there, and anyways, I’m in the car, it’s not like I have all the time in the world to stare at her ass or something,” he smiled. “I know she’s beautiful but I don’t exactly see her when I’m going to the straight at 200 kilometres an hour.”

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Liam Lawson: sassy man apocalypse 

“Sorry about the end of the race today Liam, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused about the question. 

“Your girlfriend was here for the first time, could she be a bad luck charm for the team?”

“I don’t think she is but I do know that your interviews make me feel pretty fucking unlucky,” he scoffed before walking off. 

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Charles LeClerc: laughs in their face

“Charles, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?”

He started laughing and didn’t stop for about a minute. He was as bad as Lando, to the point that Carlos had to actually walk him off the fan stage. He came back on, teary-eyed and smiling. “I think it’s quite funny.”

“Evidently,” Carlos scoffed. 

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Carlos Sainz: …

“Carlos, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?” Danica asked.

“What people are saying that?” he asked. 

“The media,” she answered. 

“Well they always have bullshit to say. I’m just surprised they had the balls to go after my wife,” he scoffed. “They’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

“That sounds extreme-”

“It’s defamation of character and she’s my wife. Nothing is extreme.” 

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Arthur LeClerc: Won’t answer

“Sorry about the race today Arthur, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”

“What a stupid question, no,” he scoffed before walking away. 

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Ollie Bearman: insulted

"Sorry about your race today Ollie, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"

He stared at her. "No. Why would she be?"

"It's her first GP and you DNF, if that's not bad luck I'm not sure what is."

"That's pretty rude," he scoffed. "Don't bring my girlfriend into this."

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Max Verstappen: guys…

"Sorry about your race today Max, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"

He stared at her, his eyes dark. "Fuck off."

"Excuse me?"

"That's bullshit, don't bring my family into this. If I have a bad race, I have a bad race, that's just how it goes. She isn't bad luck, she isn't for you to make headlines about and she's not here to just be a good omen. She's my partner and she's here to support me, that's it."

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Paul Aron: laughs in their face…

"How do you feel about the result to day, do you think things could've been different if someone wasn't distracting you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"We saw your race engineer giving out to you and your partner Y/n for distracting you. Do you think she might now be a bad luck charm?"

He scoffed, laughing in her face. "Bullshit, someone turned into me and I didn't have enough time to react. Your headline can be about that, keep my girlfriend out of this."

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Jack Doohan: so normal about it! (...)

“Sorry about the race today Jack, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”

He knew what they were trying to say. “Do you want to just say what you want to say to my face?” 

She was taken aback. “Do you think Y/n is a bad luck charm?”

He scoffed. “You’re seriously fishing for headlines when someone could’ve been seriously injured? That’s pathetic. And another thing, she’s not a fucking bad luck charm, she’s my partner, she’s not just a headline for you to fuck with.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[purinfelix]

some franco things i cannot stop thinking about

(because the brainrot is actually becoming too much to handle)

him saying he is more of a dog person (his family owns a dog) but if he were to buy a pet now it'd be a cat because he wouldn't feel bad about leaving it alone

his team telling him time and time again to just catch a private car to the Williams factory - him insisting on catching a public bus instead (saying he can get a good view from the top deck)

his team having to buy an extra suitcase for all the gifts he received after the last weekend in brazil

on that note - him not feeling the best that weekend (for many, obvious reasons) but feeling so touched by all the fans that came out for him that he went out to greet them anyways

him being shocked at alex's 14 hour screen time saying he only has about 2hr 50 minutes 😭

his bereals

actually just the whole segment of him making alex mate and explaining things about it so proudly

his strategy in Austin being his own idea - and then joking that if he doesn't get a seat he can just become a strategist

his curls

him taking that interview on the bike - and also blabbing about the expensive merch prices, telling people to just buy fakes or else they'll end up eating rice for months

him on that talk show wearing pants that still had the security tag on them 😭😭 (and then explaining that he put them on cuz they were nice and they beeped when he left the store, but the employees told him just to go anyways)

okay that's all i can think of for now GOODBYE!!!!

[the-flaneur]

you've pavloved me...hmph

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: you've been with your boyfriend for so long, that when he goes, you can't seem to cum...aka who's most likely to accidentally pavlov their partner into only coming when they're there

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

not likely to pavlov them

lance

bro does not have the energy to fuck with you like that

in his mind

why bother

he just wants to have fun with you, and you can also have your own fun without him

then so be it

no need for any tricks

franco

has too much fun with you

thinks he's too good in bed, so why should he bother trying to manipulate what you think of him

and in his mind, it would also mean that you wouldn't genuinely think he would be good in bed

and so he can't have that

you must think he is the best

and of your own accord

pierre

thinks you should also be able to please yourself without him

besides, he likes the photos you send him when you're pleasuring yourself

so he would NEVER want to pavlov you

cause then he also has to deal with a grumpy you when you can't cum

and he doesn't get anything out of it

zhou

too much of a sweetheart to be that mean to you

like he hears you cry, moan or whine ONCE about not being able to cum without him

and then he's like "im sorry baby"

and then there's happy and fluffy makeup sex

esteban

also another sweetheart

but only cause he hears you complain in very very vulgar words what you would do to him (aka fuck him up) if he didn't let you cum without him

and he can't have that

so in order to please you

he promises to never pavlov you

and then you're both happy and satisfied

oscar

wouldn't pavlov you

for the sole reason that he finds this kinda shit stupid

he's like

"babe we're in a relationship, i can't really be demanding and/or withholding things from you,"

he's just a gentleman

also morbidly thinks about if he were to die, does that mean you just can't cum anymore?

(apparently lando said yes, so that means yes)

kevin

would think about it for like two seconds

then feel very VERY bad that he thought about manipulating you like that

thinks it's "unethical" (some of the other drivers would think otherwise, duh)

thinks about from time to time (it's his mini roman empire...maybe like the byzantine empire level of thoughts)

but cares and loves you too much for that to happen

maybe one day???

valtteri

would actually consider it

BUT would bring it up with you and consider your thoughts on it before he even tried to manipulate you

if you wanted to try it: he would make sure that it was a sound/action you wouldn't embarrass yourself too (he has too much self-respect and respect for you to out your relationship like that)

if you didn't want to try it: would back off respectfully, and maybe only ask a couple more times in the future to see if you've changed your mind

yuki

would try it once after hearing about it on the internet

gets very confused as to why it's about a dog? and not a relationship?

then once pierre explained to him properly

wanted to just try it once with you

similar to valtteri, would also ask you first if you wanted to do it, but would try to convince you to just "experiment"

like a bit more like "baby, can we try it just once please. you won't even realise it,"

could be successful (ig depending on you)

charles

finds this stuff stupid

well at least most of the time...

if you just so happen to be in the right place at the right time

for him to exact some revenge after you not so accidentally posted a thirst trap of him on your instagram account

then so be it :D

would pavlov you to the sound of him saying "fuck" in that very specific cadence when he's pissed at ferrari

liam

bro would only and ONLY pavlov you to the sound of mcqueen's kachow, just so you actually WANT watch the cars movies with him every weekend

instead of complaining that he can't actually be obsessed with the red car every SINGLE FUCKING WEEK

otherwise, he's a chill guy

lando

would only do it to tease you about it

and in a funny way, not a mean way

like a "guess you're just that needy for me sometimes babe, just kidding (teasing)" kinda way

BUT would be absolute menace about it if it happened multiple times in a row

AND ESPECIALLY if it happened in front of someone else

like max f accidentally found out the sound (aka the sound of lando's pc booting up - idk how that happened man)

and then immediately went bright red, as lando cackled his head off, and you just went to hide in the bathroom

max

would pavlov you

only cause he hates missing out on having sex with you

and he actually really misses you during the race weekends

(my boy is just a massive simp, cut him some slack)

so he wants to withhold your pleasure

just so he can be the one to give it to you

(would also pavlov you to super max or du du du du max verstappen)

alex

pavloved you cause you bullied him too hard that one time (aka multiple times)

you called him a pussy for not being able to handle spice in green curries

so he calls you a pussy in return, over the phone, as you huff about not being able to cum when he's not there

and he'll even turn off the call/facetime before you manage to convince him

so you're just horny and pissed off

(aka the best combo for angry sex when he returns)

checo

desperately trying to rewrite his place in 2024 red bull constructors shithousery

so why not rewrite how you experience pleasure with him too

it's a 2-for-1

and for the mexican cartel/sponsors, that's a done deal

sealed, stamped and sent

nico

shockingly higher than you may think

BUT

THIS MAN'S CHEEKY GRIN

tells me that he would plot everything, down to the last detail

and get away with it cause he's so damn handsome and smooth talker

but flops cause he's sometimes a bit too meticulous

and takes the focus away from your pleasure, and instead focuses on your combined pleasure

cause he just loves you (and himself) like that

carlos

would also pavlov you to the smell of chilli

or other very nice aromatics

or scented candles

makes him the kinda romantic partner to pull up to the hotel room or bedroom with that massive like set up

with a bajillion candles, rose petals and balloons

except with you

it's just like the very potent smell of chilli

and apparently (?) chilli's help with sex drive

or so he tells you

george

initially i was going to put him lower

BUT GODDAMN AFTER THIS THURSDAY HAHAHAHAH

this man.

if he has an agenda.

he will push that agenda so hard, even if you were blind, you could see it and hear it

also probably learnt the "tricks" from fernando

cause they're just buddies like that

(would also pavlov you to the sound of the british anthem)

lewis

this man is a smooth AFFFFF talker

would take like zero convincing for your body to suddenly become pliant/completely at his mercy

would also manage to convince you to pavlov yourself to the sound/recordings of senna's mp4/4 or his w11 or the v10 engine

(he's just a slut for good cars like that)

or him like singing

CAUSE HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN SHARE THE MUSIC WITH THE REST OF THE WORLD (so there's no way anyone else would know)

but if he did release that music (lewis please, just even a snippet is gold), you're kinda screwed (in a fun way)

fernando

this man knows what he's doing

that's final. PERIOD.

he is THE certified mind games genius (or villain/psychopath, up to you)

dont think just cause you're his partner that doesn't mean he won't use your love for him to make sure that you both achieve maximum pleasure when you have sex

(he is still entirely devoted to you, and you only)

but he wants you to ONLY be satisfied when you're with him

he just wants your body to know that ONLY he, and him ALONE can make you feel good

pookie is in his feels for you

(bro would also be into edging, so yeah)

would also pavlov you to his victory celebrations, cause when you have sex, it's basically a party in the sheets ;)

they know what they're doing

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon @chick-from-nz @nina-or-anna-or-nora

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[wcters]

𝗟𝗘𝗧’𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧

pairing: franco colapinto x fem!reader

summary: pictures of franco and a girlfriend from high school resurface which forces them to reconnect

request: “franco colapinto x reader fc (darianka) where they were highschool lovers but broke up and then someone finds old cute pics of them and they reconnect and start dating again smau please”

warnings: pda, established relationships, rumours | faceclaim is darianka sanchez, darianka on ig, i spent like 2 hours straight on this cause i was excited, hopefully you guys like it !!!!! i’m pretty proud of it 😌

f1gossip

liked by user1, user3, and 81,084 others

f1gossip photos have come out recently that picture franco colapinto and model y/n y/l/n from high school 👀

view all 122 comments

user1 i had no idea they even knew each other

user2 why are so many rumours of franco dating random people coming out 💀

↳ user3 honestly, but this one has proof

user4 do we even know if this is real?

↳ user5 they did go to the same high school. he moved to Italy when he was 14 and she was doing school there

user6 how did no know this? like some had to have known

user7 you have to admit they look good together

user8 this is lowkey iconic

unknown

unknown

hello, is this y/n?

yes. who’s this?

unknown

it’s franco. franco colapinto

oh

how are you, franco?

franco ❤️‍🩹

i’m doing good

sorry that those photos got leaked. i don’t even know where they got them

it’s fine. people were going to find out eventually

i hope it doesn’t affect your career

franco ❤️‍🩹

no it’s fine

i hope it’s not affecting you to much

nope. just more notifications than normal but nothing bad

is there a reason you texted besides that or?

franco ❤️‍🩹

my pr team wants to contact you to put out statements and stuff clarifying the rumours

for sure. i’ll give you my email

franco ❤️‍🩹

it’s nice talking to you y/n

you too franco

congrats on p8 by the way ☺️

franco ❤️‍🩹

you watch me?

never stopped

i told you, i’d always support you

yourusername added to their story! francocolapinto added to their story!

chanelofficial

liked by yourusername, francolapinto, and 291,995 others

chanelofficial angèle, newly appointed house ambassador, JENNIE, margaret qualley, ananya panday, ning chang, lupita nyong'o, franco colapinto, arrive at the grand palais in paris on the occasion of the spring-summer 2025 ready-to-wear show on October 1st, as CHANEL makes its grand return in this historic place, emblematic setting of the house's shows for two decades.

view all 201 comments

user1 they look so good ❤️

user2 why was franco invited?

↳ user3 y/n probably invited him

user4 is it a coincidence that franco is invited to a show that y/n is in??

user5 did you see the way franco was looking at y/n

↳ user6 he was startstuck

user7 y/n looked so good 😘😘

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, lilamoss, and 204,926 others

yourusername spring-summer 2025

view all 127 comments

lilamoss beaty queen!!

↳ yourusername that’s all you babe 😚

user1 you looked so good ❤️

user2 <333

francolapinto ❤️☺️

↳ yourusername ☺️

user3 pretty girl

user4 stunner 🌟

user5 unreal 🔥

franco ❤️‍🩹

franco ❤️‍🩹

you did well at the show

thank you ☺️

how was it for your first show?

franco ❤️‍🩹

it was nice

lots of famous people there

yeah, that’s usually how it goes

hope you weren’t too overwhelmed

i know you’re not a big fan of being around lots of people

or you didn’t, at least

franco ❤️‍🩹

it’s gotten better over the years, had to

anyway, thank you for inviting me

it was nice seeing you

you too

i’m going to the cota, we could get dinner after the race?

if you have nothing going on

franco ❤️‍🩹

i’d like that

i’ll let you know a time soon

you got it 🫡

f1gossip

liked by user1, user4, and 93,583 others

f1gossip ex-girlfriend of franco colapinto, y/n y/l/n, seen arriving in austin for the united states grand prix

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user1 i thought they said they were just friends 🤨

user2 this is such a wattpad plot

↳ user3 tumblr trope

user4 they are totally getting back together

user5 she has such good style ❤️

user6 she’s going to see a certain someoneeee

user7 cutie patootie 😚

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, user2, and 213,973 others

yourusername austin, here i come 🇺🇸

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user1 franco i see you lurking 👀

gigihadid cutie 🥰

user2 is this her first grand prix?

↳ user3 no, she went to austin last year as well for chanel

lilamoss the moment

user4 last year was for chanel, this year is for franco

user5 it’d be so cute if they got back together

user6 literal high school sweethearts

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2, and 120,973 others

f1gossip franco colapinto seen with ex-girlfriend going out for dinner after the austin grand prix

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user1 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNN

user2 just kiss and tell us you’re together 🙄🙄

user3 they’re definitely together

↳ user4 no cause look how close they are

user5 i saw that they kissed outside the restaurant

↳ user6 really?

↳ user5 yeah. my friend lives in austin and got a pic of it

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, lilamoss, and 217,073 others

yourusername act casuaaaallll

view all 230 comments

gigihadid 😍😍

user1 act casual about what? 🤨

user2 is that a man’s hand?

lilamoss 😉

↳ user3 what does this mean 😭

francolapinto 😊

user4 no chance for us anymore ladies 😔😔

user5 beautiful girl

user6 caption is me everytime i see someone i don’t like

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, user2, and 818,168 others

francolapinto novios de secundaria ❤️‍🩹

comments have been limited

yourusername 😚😚

user1 i knew it

user2 they’re so cute together

user3 wattpad plot type shit

lilamoss 😉😉

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, lilamoss , and 510,013 others

yourusername high school sweethearts

comments have been limited

francolapinto te amo ❤️

user1 cuties

user2 literal destiny

lilamoss too cute ☺️

user3 my girl ❤️

gigihadid meant to be together

[mywritersmind]

SIX TIMES TOO MANY (OR JUST ENOUGH?) - LN4

summary : in which the universe can’t seem to stop bugging you. six times when people thought of you and lando as more than childhood friends.

listen up : no warnings!! childhood friends! sometimes genuis just strikes🤷🏻‍♀️ requests for kimi franco and lando are open!!

word count : 820

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The first time it happened, you had laughed it off in a drunken haze of excitement.

“You and Lando!” Your best friend squealed, “You two hooked up, didn’t you!?” she hit your arm playfully, the biggest grin on her face as yours mirrored the opposite.

“Lando and I? No way!” You shook your head rapidly just as he danced up to the two of you, a drink in hand.

He spun you around and laughed in your ear and slurring his words as your friend gave a curious look.

The second time was an older woman complimenting you and Lando on the street, saying how lovely of a couple you were. Lando had laughed it off with ease.

The third time was far more embarrassing, a young fan had asked Lando to sign his cap and as he did, the kid grinned at you and whispered, “Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone you’re in love!” He had skipped away after making your jaw drop.

Why did everyone think you were a couple? It was ridiculous and out of reach. You and Lando had been best friends since childhood, besides your first kiss, nothing had ever happened.

You weren’t blind, he was attractive. You just chose to ignore the way he mindlessly changed in front of you and how his curls fell in his face. You chose to not think about him winning a race, sweaty and exhausted, falling right into your arms as he whispered his thanks to you for just being there.

The fourth time someone mentioned it, it was your own bloody mother. She had liked a photo you sent of your group on vacation, replying with “Oh! You and Lando are just the sweetest. Open your eyes, love.”

It was mortifying, especially in public. It made things odd with Lando, after someone would mention it, he started to act squirmy.

He almost always had some sort of girlfriend, though he claimed he didn’t date.

The fifth time was by far the worst.

“I get it!” Your boyfriend had scoffed in your face, “I’ll always come second to him!” You had such a headache from trying to break things off with him that his last statement might as well have split your skull open.

“Him?”

“Norris! Just admit you’re ending things with me to be with him!” He stood up, paced the room, “I’m such an idiot.”

“What- That’s not the reason!”

“Sure! God Y/n you’ve always been drooling for him!” What the hell?

It was your turn to scoff, “Fuck you! I’m sorry you can’t imagine why anyone would break up with your dumbass but we’re done because I don’t fancy you like you do me! Don’t blame my friend.”

“Sure. ‘Friend’. Go cry to him.”

The sixth was the one to change everything.

“I never realized!” Max Fewtrell laughed with you, drinks in hand and leaning against the bar.

“Realized what?” You raised a brow, sipping your drink.

“Lando’s in love with you!” you almost spit out your drink, “I mean- I always figured he had a hard on for you but shit… he’s totally whipped!”

He’s drunk, you reminded yourself.

“Shut up Max.” It wasn’t funny anymore.

“I’m serious, Y/n!” He shook his head, turning towards Lando who was looking bored with a girl next to him, “He hasn’t gotten with anyone for months! That’s saying something! He talks about you all the time and fuck have you not noticed the way he looks at you?”

The way he looks at you? How could you not notice?

He does it just then, turning his head to face you two but keeping those magnetic eyes on you. His previous bored expression was gone instantly, a smirk gracing his face as his eyes stayed on yours. It practically made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage before Lando looks back to the girl.

“I’m just saying… maybe all those times you complain about- when people think you’re a couple or would be perfect together, maybe they’re a sign.” Max gives you one last knowing look before his spot is replaced with Lando.

He leans against the bar in a lazy fashion, looking tired yet all his energy is focused on you, “Having a good night?” His voice- fuck that voice.

His voice which haunted your nightmares and fuled your fantasies.

“A weird one, definitely.” you laugh but it’s not really funny, Lando gives you a concerned look.

“You wanna leave?” and when he says it, you know he’d come with. You know he’d go anywhere for you.

“No.” You shake your head, looking up at the brunette and feeling your breath ragged and unfocused. You swallow, then smile, “Let’s dance.”

A grin breaks out on his face as you slip your hand in his, “Anything you want, Y/n.”

[aceyalonso]

f1 drivers & how they express their love

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : none!

song: hold me down - daniel caesar

a/n : i love this song so much

main masterlist | taglist form

ʚ oscar piastri - remembering the little things

oscar always made it a point to remember the little things. whether it be how you prefer coffee or tea, or how you told him you fell off a chair as a child when you two were still friends, he will remember it.

he gets very shocked when you ask him how he still remembers something you said like 3 years ago and just stares at you like "so I was just supposed to forget about that???"

you end up just staring at him, not sure how to react because why the hell is his memory so good? you definitely won’t do anything embarrassing around him for a while because you’re scared he’ll remember it for the next 10 years (he will)

ʚ lando norris - giving gifts

i feel like lando is a giver (in terms of relationships). he's always getting you random stuff from whatever race you can't go to, he'll be complaining about how his luggage is too heavy but he's so willing to carry it because his gift is inside

he could be calling you, waiting on a couch for his next flight, talking about how the race was, what happened on the track, etc. when he suddenly starts complaining about how it's so heavy (and accidentally reveals his surprise gift) "yeah! and then- this bag is so damn heavy... you're so lucky I'm willing to carry this bag I got you"

the moment he realizes he accidentally told you about the (not so) surprise, he just starts freaking out like “WHAT??? WHAT BAG? HAHAHA WHAT? 😅😅😅 WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT” (some fans have caught this on camera at the airport; some drivers still clown him about it)

ʚ charles leclerc - name a song after you

charles has always been a romantic, planning dates, making sure he spends enough time with you, making sure you feel loved and seen, so what better way to show that by naming a piece he made after you?

if he would get asked why he named that song after you he'd simply say "oh, uhh, I named it after my girlfriend, but you guys already knew that- I named it after her because, well, she reminds me of a soft but loving melody, it took me a while to get it perfect- to make sure each note would be perfect."

the fans 100% gush over it, but you’re not too shocked. charles has always been one to think out each gift, each little detail, and how each would fit with the one he’s giving/dedicating it to.

ʚ lewis hamilton - leaving little notes

lewis is always at work, whether it be to race, to train, to do photoshoots for some magazine or interview, he's always never home. since the start of the relationship he has always insisted that you stay at his place, so roscoe can keep you company and whatnot. so during the times he has to leave early for work and you’re staying at his place he’ll always leave little post-notes around the house

when you wake up and he’s already gone, there’s a small note on your phone or glasses, “hi sweetheart, already left for work, love you!”, then when you’re in the kitchen there’s another note saying “made your favorite food earlier, make sure to heat it up :)”

or maybe when he can tell you’re a bit down or not in the mood, he’ll leave little motivational messages/reminders throughout the house like “make sure to take a break” or “don’t forget to eat and drink water”

ʚ carlos sainz - keeping your picture in his wallet

to carlos, it’s his way of subtly saying “i have a girlfriend”. he has this polaroid picture of you, it was a picture he took on your guys’ first anniversary, and it’s one his many favorites too

he also thinks of it as like… taking you with him when you have work, he ends up calling it his lucky charm too, saying it gives him financial luck and stability (even though you’re probably the reason he will go broke one day)

one of the paparazzis spotted him one day, he was out with his family, and paid for something, the paparazzi ended up capturing a glimpse of his wallet, the polaroid tucked in a clear ID/card holder. he was very happy to explain it the reporter that asked him about it. “ah… i keep her photo there for goodluck. she can’t be with me for every race because she’s working, so this is the best i could do.”

ʚ max verstappen - protective instincts

in max’s eyes you were something worth protecting- like some precious jewel. with that said, he always makes sure you’re safe.

for example, you guys are walking on the sidewalk, on the way home from a date and he just says“liefje, can you move to this side?” or when you’re leaning down and there’s a sharp counter corner, and he places his hand over it so you won’t hit your head

he is also REALLY protective of you when it comes to people he doesn’t really like/know. a random man could be flirting with you and he’d come up behind you, saying “hey, there’s an emergency with the car, can you come with me?” but when you both get to the car he just tells you “we’re going home, i don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

ʚ george russell - meaningful gestures

george is one of the few drivers on the grid that openly show how much they love their girlfriend, with that said, george’s way of showing affection isn’t limited to just giving you a brand new coach bag or taking you on a 2 week trip to some tropical island.

he says that he wants to show his love in a more “chivalrous” or “traditional” way, and so he does. he holds open the door for you, walks you to the car door, opens said car door, and sometimes cook for you when he’s not that busy with work

also, he would definitely lend you his jacket but not without giving you a little sermon about it. “see? i knew you’d get cold- i told you again and again, ‘bring a jacket, bring a scarf’ but you didn’t, so now here we are.” while he’s putting his jacket on you and wrapping the scarf around your neck

ʚ franco colapinto - secret handshakes & inside jokes

franco is 100% the type to fall in love with his bestfriend, and he’ll tease his girlfriend every chance he gets, he’s the type of person that sees his partner as his equal, his bestfriend, his partner in crime

you two already had many inside jokes and secret handshakes, i mean you two were bestfriends friends before you were lovers so when you posted a tiktok of you guys recreating some old videos from when you guys were in elementary or highschool

in an episode of team torque, alex brought up the fact that lily made him do some tiktok trend, franco takes the chance to talk about you too “ah yeah, my girlfriend made me recreate the video our parents took of us when we graduated, it was the handshake we made when were like… 7? 9? the last part where we slap each other is an inside joke we added 1 month before graduation”

taglist:

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@anamiad00msday @morgrinha @zestytimbit @si1ver06 @lilorose25

@livsturnioloo @callsignwidow @tgif5577

[moonlight-records]

Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts I LN4 (Pt. II)

pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader

summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

warning: jealous!lando. also possessive lando again, ig. bestie!charles, MESSY!FRANCO!!! god it becomes SO messy!!! franco is so smooth too. mention of make out. mention of eating out & fingering (f receiving). um idk after, kinda dying like ferrari's strategy by not having it beta read

fc: none!

a/n: since everyone is asking!!! here’s a new part!!! also once again, i opened a ko-fi! feel free to show extra love 💕

wc: 4.5K

part 1 | current | part 3

“Has Lando’s attitude gotten any better since last week?”

“No.”

“Ha! Well, surely he’s been a bit better at practices, no?”

“That, he has. I think it’s because Max snapped at him and the coach backed Max up. Though he still gives me dirty glares during practice when he’s not speaking to me.” Charles shrugs, “though I am unbothered. I wasn’t the one who tried to bribe someone out of this school for people who don’t actually truly like me. Still baffles me that he did that considering how half the school talks poorly about him behind his back. Some are not as subtle as others.”

“Well, everyone has their reasons. Maybe he was more so worried about his friends. Max, Oscar, you—”

“I don't know if I would qualify as a friend anymore.”

“I would consider you a friend if I was Lando,” you admit with a small smile, “friends fight. That’s just the nature of any relationship, romantic or not. I bet he’ll let it go and muster up some apology for being such a dick to you.”

“And you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Lando apologize to me? My dear friend, are you sure you don’t smoke anything? Because that sounds like straight delusion. Did you find the delusion at the store? If so, did you get extra because I would love some.” You remark.

“Y/N. I’m serious here.”

“So am I, Charlie. Lando is never going to apologize to me for the shit he tried to pull on me last week.” You lean forward in your seat while making a face at the thought of Lando actually apologizing to you, “Him apologizing means that he was wrong and him admitting that he’s wrong is like hell freezing over or God admitting he was wrong to cast Lucifer out of heaven or like a guy actually knowing where the clit is or—”

“Y/N!” Charles almost shrieks before shuffling closer and murmuring, “you cannot just say things like that! You know how they are about language—”

“Oh bite me.” You groan softly while looking at Charles unimpressed, “The FIA only made that rule because Max was stupid enough to curse at his advisor. Though Marko totally deserved it, if you ask me. Besides.” You take a chance to look on either side of you before looking back at Charles, “we’re the only two here so I doubt anybody heard me. If they did, I think a lot of the girls would be agreeing with my statement and if it was faculty, I will happily take my community service hours because I am not apologizing for telling the truth.” You lean back in your seat with a shrug.

You watch Charles open and close his mouth as he tries to think of something to say and him growing increasingly frustrated because he really had nothing to say besides ‘you’re right, y/n’. You giggle seeing Charles huff and lean back in his chair, grumbling that “ you have some fair points.” You just nod before looking back down at all your notebook. You take a moment before tipping your laptop screen back as you go back to rewriting your notes as silence falls over you and Charles.

“I’ll be right back.” You tear your gaze away from your laptop looking at Charles who is gently pushing his books and laptop back onto the table. “I promised Arthur I would help him with piano and I have to meet him in ten minutes. I’ll be back soon,” Charles is rapidly telling you as he grabs his coat, hastily walking away. You stare, mouth a bit open before just accepting your fate and turning back around. Whatever, it’s fine.

You start finding your groove again as you see just a flash of color across from you. Still, you didn’t even acknowledge the other as you continued to take these notes down. You take a few more minutes to get through the section and let out a sigh of relief. That was one out of four, anyway. Leaning back, you rub your eyes and decide you can take a five minute break. Dropping your hands, you expect to see Charles sitting across from you once again. Instead, someone else sat in Charles' seat.

The universe just loves to test your patience. It has barely been a week since the incident with Lando that you had swore you were done. No more curly hair, greenish eyes, stupid contagious smile, friendly heartthrobs in your life. It was so oddly specific that you were certain the universe would listen but instead the universe decided to test you if you were really done since you now have curly hair, hazel green eyes, stupidly friendly and contagious smile sitting right across from you who was watching you with a gentle smile.

“Franco?”

“Y/N. There you are.” Franco leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, “Leave it to you to find the coolest hidden spot in the library.” He leans over to look at your laptop and then sits back down. “Are you rewriting notes? Gross. I am very sure you have an uh…” he pauses, “photographic memory. That is the word. You already know the things, please put the notes down and have social interactions?”

“Oh why thank you for thinking I have a photographic memory but I do in fact study a lot.” You giggle and feel a blush creep onto your face at the compliment. “I am having social interaction. Am I not talking to you?” You raise a brow at him smiling. “I can talk to you while rewriting my notes, you know.”

“Yes but I do not want you to do that but that means I only have half your attention,” Franco complains as he gently closes your laptop screen shut and grabs your hands. You look at Franco and feel your face turn as red as the school’s hoodie while looking at the other, “and that just will not do.” Franco brings your hand to cup his cheek while looking at you, “you’re always taking notes and talking. I want one hundred percent of your time. Just this once, please?”

You were not the universe’s strongest warrior. The way that Franco looked at you with those wide eyes and small pout. You had found yourself letting your resolve melt quickly as you gently shut your laptop, elbow on the table while resting your cheek against your palm. “Yeah,” you find yourself saying while smiling dreamily at your fellow classmate, “I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Franco praises as he leans back slightly. “Now, where were we last time we talked?” Franco thinks trying to recall, “I think we were talking about Hamilton—”

“And Toto,” you add on with a grin.

“Right, right,” Franco nods while glancing around before leaning in slightly. “I’m going fucking insane. They have Hamilton coming in as the guest designer for the fashion students this year and they moved the fashion kids into the arts building after that fire. Which means,” Franco grumbles, “I have the fortunate bad luck of seeing Lewis four times a week almost all day.”

“Why is that bad? He’s like your biggest celebrity crush.”

“That’s the thing!” Franco hisses, “He’s a celebrity crush. A crush that was never to see my existence or anything. Now instead of kilometers separating us, it’s just one floor! You think a man that is perfect should be looking at someone like me?” Franco looks at you, horrified, “Y/N. Please. I’ve never been so stressed over my looks before going to class. I don’t know how much longer my fragile heart can take seeing Lewis in all his glorious outfits with all those lovely rings…and tattoos…and stay sane.” Franco drops his head in defeat before looking back up at you. “Well, what about you? How’s your celebrity crush on Toto?”

You sigh and look away defeated. “Sadly, he is no longer a celebrity crush. He’s…” You cover your mouth as you take a moment. You close your eyes before taking a deep breath in and out. “Toto Wolff is…off the roster,” you whisper dramatically while looking at Franco. Franco gasps loudly, covering his mouth.

“What?! Say it ain’t so! Toto Wolff has been on the roster since the day we created the rosters,” Franco stares in disbelief, “What happened? What did he do that was so…dirty that you had to take him off the roster completely.

You stare at Franco before looking away, shaking your head slightly. “He did the one thing that I was terrified of. The only thing that would have me kick a man such as Toto Wolff off the damn roster…he became a full time professor here.” You finally admit, covering your mouth again in disbelief that your worst nightmare came true. You hear Franco gasp again and you nod, “I know. It’s such a sad day. We lost one of our strongest.”

“Here lies Toto Wolff. That man saw the rise of your beautifully curated roster. A moment of silence for our beloved.” Franco whispers as he sits there with you. You two glance at each other and you two break out into laughter. You both lean in, giggling while trying to hush the other so you two don’t get in trouble for being so loud. “Though seriously, he became a full time professor here? Good for him but that truly is a shame. We got new eye candy but at what cost?”

“I know! But hey, at least his teaching style is unique so at least I am very engaged which is really a good thing plus him looking as hot as he does since he’s a psychopath. Who the hell has classes at eight in the morning? I can’t even be happy that it’s once a week because it’s a three hour class that starts promptly at eight in the morning on Monday. Maybe it is a good thing Toto became a professor because this is too much.”

Franco’s been laughing silently the entire time, silently getting more dramatic as you spoke so he wouldn’t scream in the middle of the library. You watch him for a moment before laughing as well, grabbing onto his arms as the two of you laugh.

You two calm down and lean back as someone clears their throat. The two of you look up and your face falls to horror when cold stormy green eyes land on you. You shift uncomfortably as you become defensive. Shoulder a bit further back. Back a bit straighter. Chin a bit higher. You force a smile at the British student while trying to explode him with your mind.

“Y/N.” Lando remarks while looking down at you with pure raging dislike, “Funny seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Ha.” Lando looks at Franco and relaxes slightly. “Dude. Come on. I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes, we have to grab Oscar before meeting up with Max and Carlos soon. I really don’t need Carlos getting on me for being late.”

“Oh sorry. I just got so distracted.” Franco tells Lando and stands.

“What were you even doing? Speaking to Y/N?” You glare at Lando. Franco is way too sweet to be dragged into your bullshit with Lando before looking back at Franco. It seems that the Brit has a soft spot for your fellow freshman or something because Lando clears his throat before he keeps speaking, “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. Didn’t mean to sound so rude…sorry.”

Holy shit. Did hell finally freeze over? Maybe it’s pigs flying. Or he’s finally getting laid. It really doesn’t matter the reason why right now because you were still in disbelief that Lando apologized. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Lando apologized in general but apologizing because of the rude tone he had when speaking about you? Did you end up in the Twilight Zone? No no this must be a joke. Okay, cut the cameras. Seriously the cameras can STOP rolling.

“Oh of course I know Y/N! We’re in the same graduating class and we have a few gen eds together. It’s just hard given our schedules but,” Franco grins, “We make it work. Though! Before I leave I actually want to know if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch with me tomorrow” Franco announces as he looks at you, smiling, “could be a date if you want?”

Suddenly the world just freezes and you’re stuck at the library table staring in complete shock at the turn of the events. You hadn’t even told Franco about Lando, not having the heart for his poor heart to be crushed by how Lando could be so nasty. Still, you’re trying to figure out how the hell this conversation got onto the topic of Franco asking you out on a date.

In the heat of the moment, you can’t help but turn to look at Lando as if he heard Franco correctly. Maybe you’ve just fallen asleep and this is some weird dream or something. You come to the shocking yet unsuspecting realization that this is not a dream when Lando meets your gaze having the same idea. You both look back at Franco in a state of shock and confusion. “A date?” You and Lando ask in union.

“Yes.” Franco laughs and smiles widely at you and Lando before looking back at you, “well? Would you like to get lunch with me? As a date?”

“Yes.” You smile while nodding, “I would love to get lunch with you as a date.”

You stare at Franco with a stupid smile. You hadn’t expected this was how your evening would go but you were more than happy about it. You were so happy, that Lando’s look of shock turned to disgust didn’t even phase you. Finally, you’re crashing back to reality when Lando annoyingly clears his throat while looking down at the two of you. “Well, lovebirds,” Lando forces a smile but you can feel the burn his venomous words carry, “sorry to cut the moment short but we really have to leave now, Franco.” Lando manages through gritted teeth.

“Right! Sorry again.” Franco gathers his things and looks at you, “I’ll text you later. Bye Y/N,” Franco waves before Lando sends him off, telling him he’ll be right out.

You watch Franco go off and sigh dreamily. You glance away for a moment before doing a double take. Your smile morphs into a scowl while looking at Lando who—hasn’t moved yet. Looking him up and down, you raise a brow. “Can I help you?”

“Why did you say yes to Franco?”

“You really think you’re entitled to that after the shit you pulled last week?” You raise a brow while clicking your tongue, “besides. Why do you even care?”

“Because Franco’s a freshman and I don’t need him distracted,” Lando snaps and you roll your eyes. Here he goes again about distractions and shit. Lando glances away and huffs. “Also because he’s a bit of a player.”

“Takes one to know one, yeah?”

Lando glares at you and sneers slightly. “So what? I wouldn’t want him wasting any of his time on you.”

“Why?”

“You’d probably bore him to death.” Looking down at you as Lando gives it a beat. “Also I doubt you’d know how to get him off for your first time. Hell, I don’t think you’d know how to get anybody off. Not even yourself.” Giving you a condescending smile, “I would hate for him to be a part of your body count.”

“Oh.” You laugh slightly, “That’s adorable. Well. You know what? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Lando’s a bit taken aback. “I—what?”

“You know. I’ve been doing some thinking. I think we didn’t quite see eye-to-eye.” You continue as you pack your things. “Which isn’t really fair because you were truly just looking out for your friends. Like you’re doing right now.” Standing straight, “which I just wanna say is the sweetest thing ever so. I want to thank you and I’ve figured out the best way to do that.”

“…Which is…?” Lando leans in slightly, waiting for your answer.

“Which is…letting you know in great detail not only how good Franco’s gonna fuck me this weekend but you’ll also have to listen how Franco’s not going to want anybody else when I’m done with him.” You feign innocence to Lando as you sling your backpack over your shoulders before walking away.

“Now, don’t you move a single muscle,” Franco kisses your forehead with a smile “You just focus on resting and I’ll handle everything for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good girl.” Franco winks before leaving your dorm. 

You lay in your bed staring where Franco had just left before rolling over, grunting as your legs failed to work with you. Fumbling around the messy sheets and pillows till you find your phone and immediately open the texts messages because you had to tell someone about the date you just had:

A MINX. HE’S A MINX I TELL YOU. - YN

WHO? WHAT? THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??? - CL

FRANCO. FRANCO IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MINX!!!!-YN

??????-CL

So Franco asked me out on a date for lunch today—YN

HE WHAT?! WHEN?-YN

Yesterday after you disappeared. He showed up and Lando came looking for him.-YN

LANDO? WHAT? Oh my god was he nasty to you? I’ll hurt him istg-CL

No. No he was…civil. Or civilish while Franco was around. But anyway, yeah Lando was asking like why Franco was talking to me cause we don’t really talk and like they had to go to Max’s place and Franco was like “oh we’re in the same graduating class” and stuff but before he left he was like “oh do you wanna get lunch with me tomorrow as a date?'“-YN

And I was gagged! I thought it heard it wrong so I looked at Lando who was LOOKING AT ME THE SAME WAY so we realize oh this is real. This is happening and Franco wants to grab lunch with me like a date. So I say yes, obviously.-YN

IN FRONT OF LANDO!?-CL

Yeah cause fuck him!!! If my happiness is his kryptonite to having a good day, then so fucking be it. But wait!! There’s more!-YN

TELL ME! TELL ME!-CL

So Lando hangs behind and Franco leaves. Then Lando looks at me all like “why’d you say yes?” Bitch what do you mean???-YN

Oh my god, he did not!!-CL

He totally did!!!-YN

Ew. Why does it have a jealous undertone?? possessiveness???-CL

It’s giving ‘you belong to me’ or like ‘nobody else can have you because I want you’ like some dark romance MMC. This is not a bully romance with a mafia subplot or some shit!!-YN

PREACH 👏👏👏. So what happened after?!-CL

Oh so I was like “i’m not telling you after the shit you pulled last week” and asking why he cares and he’s going on about how Franco’s a freshman and he can’t get distracted and how he’s a bit of a player, which he isn’t he’s just kind of a himbo, and I was like “oh takes one to know one, yeah?”-YN

YOU DID NOT. SHUT UP OH Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH-CL

I did and that pissed Lando off. He starts going on about how I don’t know how to get anybody off and I’d bore Franco to death and how he would never want Franco a part of my body count. First off I got three bodies and I have pleased all three, thank you very much but also like fuck Lando!! His opinion? Doesn’t matter!! So I started bout how ‘oh we got off on the wrong foot’ and ‘you’re right’ to throw him for a loop before I told him I wanted to ‘thank him’ for ‘opening my eyes’ and his thank you is listening, in great detail, to Franco fuck me this entire weekend and then listening to Franco wanting nobody else 💋-YN

YNNNN!!! OH MY GOOOOOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! Ugh yes that’s some queen shit. Though how does that tie into Franco being a minx??-CL

BECAUSE. It’s Friday. He has no classes. Mine got canceled so I decided, oh why don’t we stay in today, right? soooo like, we go to the cafe, i get food (that Franco paid for) cause he’s not hungry right now which is whatever, and then we head back to my dorm. We’re watching tv, we’re talking, and I finish eating. It’s great, right??-YN

Yes, correct.-CL

So as I’m talking, I start talking about Lando. Franco’s apologizing, I’m telling him he shouldn’t be apologizing. He’s asking if he should stop hanging out with Lando and you know me. I’m not gonna police people on their friends so I told him no. As long as he holds Lando accountable, then I don’t care. If Franco wants to drop Lando that’s his own doing.-YN

Anyway, we keep talking and laughing. We’re getting closer. And then…you know-YN

…What happened? 👀👀-CL

We start kissing. Then it turns into a lazy makeout. Hands start wandering, nothing real scandalous ya know?-YN

Uh huh…-CL

Then this mf pulls away and is like “Oh, I’m real hungry”-YN

FRANCO!!! WTFF!!!!-CL

OH WAIT!! Cause that’s what I thought. I was like “Oh really? Like now? I mean I guess we can go back to the cafe.” Meanwhile he’s actively getting off the bed. Then Franco pulls me by my ankles to the edge of the bed. so i'm thinking he’s really hungry so I go to sit up and he pushes me back down talking bout some “where’re you going mami?”-YN

SIR?? EXCUSE ME??? I can hear the accent now, oh my god that’s—wow-CL

OH BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE!!!-YN

So first, don’t be calling me mami unless you plan on making me an actual mom. Second, I’m looking at him confused like “you said you were hungry” and he’s like “yeah?” and I was like “Oh I’m sorry, I just thought you’d want me to join you going to the cafe to get lunch” and he’s looking at me like I got ten heads before going like “the cafe? Why would we go to the cafe?” He’s actively like leaning over me while holding my thighs and slowly pushing them opening talking bout “I don’t need the cafe when I got a full five meal course right here sprawled out in front of me.”-YN

FRANCO!?! OH MY GOD—I have to fan myself. Wow that was—🥵🥵🥵🥵-CL

RIGHT?!?!-YN

WELL??-CL

…Charles when I tell you. I do not believe in god but I am pretty sure I was knocking on his door. Two hours. I was seeing god for TWO HOURS!!! Charles when I tell you that man had me screaming crying throwing up I MEAN IT. Charles, I'm still in bed. My legs are still shaking. I can’t feel them.-YN

What I wouldn’t give to be sucked off like that—CL

But wait. There’s a cherry on top of all of this.-YN

WHAT COULD TOP THIS?-CL

Franco really had to make sure everyone knew what was happening. I mean, he’s on his knee with my hips hanging off. He’s got one hand gripping my ass like it’s his lifeline to this world. He’s between my thighs and eating me out like he is a man up next on death row and I am his final fucking meal. He pushed all the pillows away. Got my wrists pinned to my stomach with his other hand. I am solely at his mercy and I cannot keep quiet for the life of me and he ate it up. I was so loud, I heard banging from upstairs.-YN

Banging?-CL

Yeah. Like someone was hitting a broom against the floor. To signal to shut up, which Franco and I ignored. More Franco than me, I couldn’t see straight and that was an hour in. Do you know, what the banging was though???-YN

A disgruntled upstairs neighbor???-CL

Yeah. Do you remember who my upstairs neighbor is?-YN

…OH MY FUCKING GOD, LANDO LISTENED TO YOU GETTING THE BEST HEAD OF YOUR LIFE?-CL

Yes SIIIIIIIIRRRRRR. Dude Lando got so mad he CALLED Franco in the middle of it and he answered.-YN

HE ANSWERED?!-CL

Yes. He answered. Pulls back enough to start fingering me and hands be a pillow telling me to bite down on it which I do without a second fucking thought. But tell me why Franco put Lando on speaker and Lando asking “what are you doing right now??” and Franco looks me dead in the fucking eyes going on bout “Oh I’m just having lunch right now with Y/N.” and Lando’s like “oh yeah? Is that so? Then why the fuck is she screaming so god damn loud? Huh? Thought it was a lunch date?” and Charles. I shit you the fuck NOT, Franco without missing a beat goes, “It is. She’s my lunch and my mother always told me to finish everything on my plate and I plan to do just that.” THEN HUNG UP THE PHONE AND WENT RIGHT BACK TO EATING ME OUT.-YN

Y/N…you are the luckiest bitch around. Holy fucking shit. I need a man like Franco—do we know if Franco swings both ways??-CL

He does. Though you might not like him. He’s got a huge crush on Lewis—YN

Never mind. You keep Franco. Gives me an easier chance to steal Lewis' heart. Or just get one chance with him.-CL

I think you can do it. I believe. Anyway, yeah so that happened and—YN

You accidentally send your message to Charles early when a new text comes through. It’s by an unknown number and you click on it.

Lacrosse field. 8pm. We need to talk.-Unk

You think for a moment trying to figure out who this could be. No names come to your mind so you think that someone texted the wrong number. Typically, you’d leave unknown numbers alone but you got the impression that this was something important and urgent that you respond.

Oh I’m sorry, you have the wrong number-YN

I don’t-Unk

Excuse me?-YN

You look up hearing the familiar broom hitting against the floor. You scowl at Lando and his antics before looking back at your phone. Huh. That was…too coincidental. You lay there for a moment before the banging came again, this time a bit more urgent. You send your message before realizing it.

Lando?-YN

The banging stops. Suddenly, your dorm is eerily quiet and you hold your breath. You watch the familiar three bubbles appear and disappear before appearing again as your heart sinks.

Bingo. 8pm. Tonight. Lacrosse field. Alone.-LN

tag list: @dripostsstuff, @tinyhrry, @formulaho, @green--beanie, @brekkers-whore.

@fat-meh, @landossainz, @jaydensluv, @carpediem241108, @rayaharper,

@bookishnerd1132, @asmoothoperator, @loloekie, @kawaiifurychaos

@st0rmzi3, @tygecjjd, @eclipsedcherry, @linnygirl09, @ln4-cl16-world

@poppymelonz, @katiascraft, @fangirl125reader, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @norrisleclercf1

[trashytracktales]

Adrenaline state of mind | FC⁴³

𐙚 summary ──── After a long, eventful Sunday in São Paulo, Franco finds himself sharing an unexpected ride back to his hotel. What starts as a casual conversation about racing and dreams, slowly turns into something deeper, as the quiet intimacy of the night pulls them closer.

𐙚 pairing ──── Franco Colapinto x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, smut, explicit language, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of racing incidents (Franco's crash in Brazil), swearing, suggestive/flirty behavior, unprotected shower sex (pull out game strong lol).

𐙚 word count ──── 4.6k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 17, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Every single time I open my silly writing app I'm thinking, this is the day I'll go for pure smut & no build-up, and every single time I fail miserably 🤍

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

FRANCO KNOWS IT could've been much worse. So, he's done overthinking for the night. After a chaotic race that ended with a crash on Lap 43, all he wants is to go back to his hotel room and wash the day off.

The adrenaline is still there, giving him random rushes throughout his body every time he remembers his error. The rain made it all difficult, of course, but he can't blame the weather — that's what amateurs do.

The impact was jarring, even from the angles the cameras caught. But for Franco, being inside the car while it was happening — it scared him. And he's now too scared to admit that he's scared. He’s spent hours afterward in the paddock, walking the line between shaking it off and dwelling on it, and still, he can't help but coming back to the same feeling. Again and again.

It's past midnight now, and most of the lights in the paddock have dimmed. The Brazilian night is humid, shadows stretching out beneath a heavy, damp sky. The sounds of engines are quieted for once, replaced by the murmur of distant voices and the occasional clash of closing garages. There aren’t many people left — just a handful of team members gathering last equipment, and a few scattered mechanics.

And her.

He knows her only through Alex. She’s the friend he’s seen around a for a couple of races — in Italy first, then US, and now here. Formally, they met in the Williams garage, after qualifying in Monza. They didn't talk much, but enough for him to remember her name. And her smile.

She’s leaning against a barrier near the Red Bull hospitality area, shielded from the light shower while scrolling on her phone. The light that comes from the screen is softly reflecting on her face, Franco noticing the little frown between her eyebrows and how focused she is, for some reason. Her head is tipped forward, strands of hair falling loose around her face, and he finds a softness in her expression that catches his eye the second he gets closer.

“Thought you left already?” he says with a thick accent, but it sounds more like a question in the end.

She looks up, a little startled, but then her face lights up in surprise. “Oh, Franco. Hey. No, just… I'm actually trying to find a ride. Alex and Lily took off right after the race. Probably should’ve left with them,” she says with a small laugh. “Caught up with some familiar faces and I lost track of time,” she explains, moving her weight from one foot to the other.

There’s a faint tension behind his easygoing demeanor, but he holds her gaze with a calm confidence. “Want to come with? We’re at the same hotel, no? I was just heading there.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, her eyes widening in recognition. “That’d be nice, actually.”

“Of course.”

They start walking together, cutting through the raindrops, neither of them looking very bothered by it. The crisp smell of rain blends softly with her sweet, floral scent, making Franco's mind wander, and he realizes too late she just asked him something, only because the space between them went quiet for a bit.

“I’m sorry, come again?”

She puffs a little chucke out, “I asked how are you feeling, but just got my answer.”

“Oh, yeah,” Franco shrugs, “Could've been worse,” he finally says it out loud.

“Still. It looked pretty intense on the screens.”

His heart clenches, but tries to keep a neutral tone, “It was. Maybe a bit too much,” he laughs dryly. “Felt like it happened in slow motion, honestly.” Franco glances down at her, half-smiling. “But I survived.”

She hums softly, nudging him gently. “Guess that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Crash, pick up the pieces, do it all again?”

He shrugs, “Pretty sure I’m supposed to try and not crash at all.”

He didn't even try to be funny, but she finds it hilarious the way Franco emphasizes the words, as if he pours his passion into each one of them. Her hands wrap around her own body as they walk, their footsteps the only sound echoing in the quiet paddock. He notices it immediately, taking off his Williams jacket and draping it over her shoulders.

“Cold?” asks Franco, smirking, without looking in her direction.

She blushes at the warmth that instantly wraps around her, the faint scent of his cologne somehow comforting. It's not intoxicating, or too strong. Just a slight trace of cardamom, followed by an unexpected freshness.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, wrapping the jacket close around her.

THE RAIN IS still falling lightly when they get back to the hotel, the sound a steady rhythm against the roof of the car. None of them kept quiet the entire drive — they started off boring, agreeing that the capricious weather was a real pain in the ass throughout the weekend, but their conversation took off, flying like ping-pong balls from one topic to another.

Now, the tension between them is like a subtle current that neither is rushing to acknowledge, but it's buzzing just beneath the surface.

Who would've thought they have so much in common?

“You up for a drink?” asks Franco, taking even himself by surprise.

She has to think about it for a while — it can't be a good idea. He's had a long weekend and needs rest, and she desperately needs to dry up. However, her pulse starts racing just at the thought of being around him more.

Her lips lift in a small smile. “ Alright. Just one,” she agrees, raising a finger in the air to accentuate her determination.

One drink turns into two.

Then three, each sip bringing them closer, the conversations drifting from track tales to late-night jokes, then back to stories about his unexpected rookie season. She listens intently, her laughter genuine, her gaze warm and focused, like he’s the only one she’s interested in hearing from. There’s a depth to her that Franco can’t look away from, a curiosity and calmness that makes him feel understood; he didn't know he needed that until now.

“So,” says Franco after taking a sip of his fourth drink. “Can I ask you something?” his gaze is observant, yet gentle, as he decides to take the conversation to a more personal tone.

“Shoot,” she nods once, just starting on her third Negroni.

“You seem to know a lot about the world of racing, and the people involved in it. But you’re not part of it. Why?”

She smirks in his direction, “Yet. I mean, there is no school to prepare someone for the position I want, but I hope I’ll get to be in front of the monitors one day. To tell your engineer when is the optimal time to pit or what tires to use in order to gain competitive advantage, maybe, ” her voice is lost in reverie, like she's been dreaming about this for a long time.

He cocks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her answer, “You want to be a race strategist? That’s quite unique, no? Most people,” adds Franco, pointing at himself, “Dream of being racers.”

“I work better with my brain than my body. Plus, it's too late for me, even if I wanted to do something about it,” she says, a tint of nostalgia embracing her by the shoulders. “I've also seen Alex training before,” she continues, shaking her head while laughing, “Nope, thank you.”

“So then, brains over brawn, huh?”

“In my case, yes. Something like that,” she agrees, catching the little hint of interest in his eyes.

He studies her for a moment as if he tries to figure her out, because he knows there’s more to her than what meets the eye; their interaction so far proves that. It's a pleasant surprise for him, because it means there is a chance he'll get to see her around the paddock more frequently. And the thought makes him happier than it should.

Franco leans back, a playful smirk on his lips, “I see you, mystery girl. You seem to be full of surprises.”

“What about you?” she challenges him, copying his body language. “Who’s Franco when he’s not in the car?”

He grins, amused by her question. He takes one more sip of his drink, swirling the amber liquid around, stalling for a moment before he decides on his answer.

“Gonna sound cringey if I say I’m just a regular guy?”

“Oh, dear God,” she laughs, and Franco's eyes light up at the sound of it.

“I mean, I like the simple things, you know? Hanging out with my friends, music, enjoying good food… and drinks,” he continues in a suggestive manner.

“And drinks,” she repeats, nodding at his insinuation.

She looks back at him through her eyelashes, realizing for the first time since they bumped into each other tonight how late it must be. But, somehow, time seems to stay still when she catches him staring, her heartbeat fastening.

Franco’s gaze darkens slightly, the tension between them becoming suddenly palpable.

“And pretty girls,” he adds, lifting the glass and emptying it in one go, without breaking eye contact.

The warmth blooming in her chest catches her off guard, spreading from her neck to her cheeks as she shifts slightly, desperate to escape the intensity of his gaze. She tells herself it’s just the alcohol, of course. But then his lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, and her heart stumbles again in a way she can’t control it.

It’s not the alcohol, she realizes; it’s him.

It’s the way Franco looks at her like she’s something worth getting lost in, and she’s not sure she knows how to handle that.

He puts the glass back on the table and leans in slightly, as his eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes, and back again.

She looks at him, intently, feeling the warmth, and the way his breath hitches. It’s not just what she finds behind his gaze — it’s the reflection of her own desire, the undeniable pull that could easily make her lose it, if she's not careful.

And the realization is overwhelming.

“I think… we should call it a night?” she does not sound confident in the slightest.

“Probably a good idea,” replies Franco, studying her expression for a moment.

By the time they get to the elevator, the tension settles over them like a heavy blanket. He stands close, his hand brushing against hers as they walk inside, their gazes meeting in the reflective walls of the elevator the moment the doors close.

“Can you press 7 for me?” she asks, stepping back and waiting patiently.

He smirks, leaning over to do so, then he presses his own floor, just a few levels up.

The faint hum of the elevator is the only sound that surrounds them, but it barely registers over the rapid beating of her heart. Franco’s scent surrounds her from every direction, remembering the same unique smell from earlier.

His eyes catch hers in the mirrors again, and the look is almost unbearable, even through the reflection. They both know that, whatever this is, it's begging to snap. And it will. It's just a matter of when.

Every nerve in her body is dancing on the edge of patience — or lack thereof — and when he finally turns to look at her, slow and deliberate, she can't help but smile.

He takes it as a sign.

After that, Franco doesn’t think anymore — he just acts, leaning in, bringing his hand to her cheek as their lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss that deepens gradually, both of them feeling the weight of the night hanging heavily on their shoulders.

The kiss is experimental at first, like he asks a gentle question to which she answers to with a soft press of her lips on his. Then suddenly, they both start to feel the adrenaline of being in each other's space like that — so close and heated up, that it makes them wonder what contributed to the state they're in.

Aside from the alcohol, of course.

The elevator feels way smaller when Franco's free hand finds home on her waist, his fingers pushing the jacket away and then her blouse, gripping her warm flesh. The air gets heavier as they kiss, the oxygen becoming a secondary need for them, after tasting each other.

The soft ding of the doors opening goes almost unnoticed. But then she pulls back, stepping away, just enough to put some distance between them. Her lips are tingling with the aftertaste, mind so dizzy that her legs are currently made of jelly. She's about to step out when Franco's hands pulls her back to him by the edges of the jacket, their bodies colliding halfway.

So are their lips.

“That was me,” she manages, whispering against his mouth, her voice shaking slightly.

“Not tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low as he attaches his lips to hers again.

They stumble together, barely registering the way the doors close again to take them up to his floor. And by the time they reach his room, her back presses against the door as he fumbles for the key card, their mouths never straying far from each other.

Inside, the dim light of the room casts a golden hue, welcoming them as if it's not the first time.

“We walked through rain,” she reminds Franco, flushed as she catches sight of both their reflections in the mirror that’s hanged on the wall in the hallway. “Shouldn't we shower first?” she asks with a nervous laugh.

Franco smirks, his accent thick with the heat of the moment, “Ahora eso no me importa nada, bebita.” (I don't care about that at all now, baby.)

“No… vamos a ducharnos, por favor,” she cuts him off, “I feel dirty.” (No… let’s take a shower, please.)

Franco freezes for a split second, his eyes snapping to hers with a mix of surprise and something deeper, more intimate. He feels as though she has cast a spell on him, leaving Franco unable to resist doing everything in his power to fulfill her every desire, right here, and right now.

“¿Hablas español?” his voice is tinged with a boyish curiosity, as if her understanding of his language has just unlocked another layer between them.

It makes his head spin.

And that makes her smile.

“Un poquito,” the Spanish words roll off her tongue effortlessly, and he can’t help the slow grin spreading across his face.

“This just got even more dangerous,” he admits with a chuckle.

She lets out a breathy laugh as he steps back, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Her pulse quickens at the sight of him, the lean definition of his torso illuminated under the soft light. Franco follows, finally ripping off her — his — jacket, then her blouse, revealing her smooth skin.

Each piece of clothing dropped on the floor is another barrier that’s falling away, leaving a messy trail to the bathroom.

His hands roam up and down her body, frantically, kissing slopply until they get inside. Franco lets the shower run, stepping back for a moment, his breath catching as his eyes take her in completely, as if he just realized they are completely naked — no barriers, no hesitations, no inhibitions, just them.

It overwhelms him. The way the light skims over her skin, highlighting every curve and line. It reminds him of the first time he jumped into an F1 car and how each of his senses was somehow heightened up to the max, his pulse quickened by the gravity of what he was about to experience. He was over the moon then, and he’s over the moon now, though this time around, everything feels infinitely more personal.

“You're staring,” she notices his lingering eyes, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

Instead of contradicting her, Franco reaches for her hand, guiding her toward the shower. The steamy air envelops their bodies, giving them a sense of comfort and safety. She steps in first, letting the water cascade over her. He follows closely, pausing just before the spray to watch her tilt her head back, the droplets tracing paths down her body.

Franco swallows hard, parts of him awakening at the sight of her, while the heat soaks into his skin almost as quickly as the feeling of her presence does. His hands find her waist instinctively, pulling her in while his chest presses into her back.

The steam cloaks them in a moment that feels completely detached from reality.

He brings his hand up to tuck her hair out of the way, then he leans down to press his lips on her neck. She closes her eyes for a short moment, admiring his tenderness, but something tells her that it's him who needs it more. She turns around in his arms, finally facing each other again, her heart picking up the pace once she sees his hooded eyes filled with nothing but want.

“Turn around,” she tells him, managing to get a confused expression in return.

However, he doesn't question her, complying, while she stands on her tiptoes to reach his hair. Her fingers start threading through it with care, massaging shampoo into a lather. At first, it’s easy — an act of intimacy that’s supposed to bring them closer. But then she notices the way Franco’s shoulders sag under her touch, the tension radiating from him like a silent cry for help.

Her movements slow down, “Franco…?” she says softly, stepping closer.

He exhales sharply, his head tilting forward, “It’s fucking stupid, I don’t know why it scared me so much,” he murmurs, the words raw and heavy.

She doesn’t ask him to elaborate — she doesn’t need to. Everyone saw the state his car was in after the crash; of course it scared him.

She remembers holding her breath, the way time seemed to stop until she saw him climb out unscathed.

“It’s not stupid,” she assures him, her hands sliding down to rest on his shoulder blades, placing a tiny kiss between them, “You’re okay, Franco. It’s all that matters.”

He turns around, slowly, the water falling over his face, his expression torn between vulnerability and something deeper, something he doesn’t know how to name. It's not shame, but it could be.

Her hands rise to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his wet cheekbones. As a response to that, Franco leans down, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths blending in the warmth of the shower.

“How did I come across you…,” he whispers thoughtfully, feeling her hands sliding down his chest, slick with water and soap.

As her touch grounds him, something shifts between them in an instant.

The vulnerability melts into something else entirely — a need, urgent and impossible to ignore. When their lips touch again, her back presses against the cool tile behind her, the contrast making her gasp as his hands find her waist, drawing her closer. The water pools around them like it's simply forgotten, as the intimacy of the moment consumes them both to the point it washes away the fear and everything else in between, leaving behind only one thing — the present moment. The now.

“I know we're both un poquito tipsy and the alcohol would be such a pathetic excuse tomorrow morning, but you have to understand that I've wanted you since we were in the car, and I wasn't drunk then.”

His confession makes her heart tighten, smiling up at him.

“Okay,” she says, giggling while looping her arms around Franco's waist to bring him closer to where she wants him.

Franco chuckles, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she repeats, feeling his hands cupping her breasts, making her whimper as a result.

He pauses for a moment as he looks at her reacting to his touch. “Are you sure?”

She nods, arching more into his touch.

To cover her sounds, his lips attach back to her mouth, moving against hers with increasing fervor, the weight of the day dissolving into the way she kisses him back. Her hands slide up his chest, water-slicked skin beneath her fingertips, and she presses closer, desperate to erase the lingering fear she can still feel surrounding him.

“Franco…” she whispers his name against his lips, her voice shaky, but laced with want. “Let me help?”

He doesn't need words to reply, instead he's deciding on tilting her chin up to deepen the kiss. The other hand wanders all over her body, mapping out her curves that fit against him as though they were always meant to. Her head falls back, resting on the wall as his lips move from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, tracing a line along the column of her neck, discovering her sweet spots for the first time.

“Is this good?” he asks, reaching her thighs, brushing the pads of his fingers between them and pushing his hand further, gently opening her.

“Yes…” she agrees, moving her hips against his hand, forcing his fingers inside her.

Her moans sound like they are accompanied by a choir of drunken angels, encouraging him to find a pace, fucking his fingers in and out until he feels her squeeze him tightly.

Her arms are draping around his shoulders, pulling him towards her tightly.

“Franco,” the girl gasps his name into his wet skin before she lowers her head to watch his fingers slipping free of her.

“Joder. You're so sensitive, cariño,” he figures, widening his eyes at her.

She looks back at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, “That turns you on?”

“Sí...” he responds gruffly, taking a small step back, his eyes not leaving her body, drinking in every curve.

“Do something about it,” she urges, raising one leg up on his thigh.

Franco gets the memo, lifting her in his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the motion pulling him even closer. For a moment, everything else disappears — the crash, the weight of the day, the entire world. There is only her, her touch, her breath, her whispered name for him that sends his heart racing faster than any race car ever could.

She grips his shoulders tightly as he hovers above her. His dark eyes lock onto hers with an intensity that leaves her breathless, and Franco can't be sure either of them are breathing as he guides his cock to her entrance, hissing at the contact before sliding inside.

“Ay, fuck,” he breaths hard, feeling her body welcome him in, warm and wet.

She can't help but moan at how full she feels once he's all in.

Franco lets out another low grunt, his body responding to hers. He's struggling to hold back, to control the need that's consuming him. But soon, he realizes he can't resist the feeling of being inside her. So, he starts moving, slow at first.

“Feeling you so thight around me,” he mutters against her skin, “Fuck, there you go, cariño,” he ends up proppting a hand on the wall next to her head, to steady himself when he feels her fucking back against him.

“Franco, please,” she whimpers, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, breathing heavily at the sweet stretch.

Franco lets out a shaky breath, sliding all the way inside her, again and again, until his brain turns into mush. “You're so good, bebé. So good, unbelievable,” he rambles, his thrusts so slow and gentle, that make her see little white dots all around.

His mouth finds hers again, kissing her intently while fucking her so painfully slowly. It bothers her, but she knows it's about him right now; she doesn’t want him to rush. Franco's had enough of that today; enough speed, enough chaos. He doesn’t need to race toward the finish this time.

If he needs it slow, then she can take him that way.

She cups his face in her palms, forcing his eyes back on her — such a rookie mistake. The sight of him looking through wet eyelashes and glossy lips makes her pussy clench involuntarily around his cock, aggravating the need for him, causing a string of moans out of her mouth.

“Fran…” she loses her head, squeezing her eyes closed and rocking her hips harder against the wall to meet Franco halfway.

The way she molds to his rhythm, grounding him in the here and now, sends Franco to a completely different universe, where everything is pleasure. He needs it. Not to escape, but to rebuild himself.

They move together, each of his thrusts a reminder that not everything has to be fast to be meaningful, or to take your breath away — she's never been this close to coming from such a slow fuck before. His cock is hard and demanding inside her, though, throbbing against her walls the second he decides to pull all the way out, so he can fuck back in, finally setting a more alert pace.

“So good for me, aren't you? Letting me have my way like this?” asks Franco, his tone high and breathless. “Even though it's not how you like it, no?”

He's so close to the edge, too. She can sense it in the way his breaths are ragged and erratic.

“Talk to me, bébé. What do you want?”

“Mhm… more,” she manages, her body so close to collapsing in his arms.

That's all Franco needs to hear. His control snaps, the need and the pressure taking over as he lets out a low moan, “Sí, cariño... I've got you.”

He grabs her hips firmly, his fingers leaving indents on her skin as he slams into her harder, the feeling leaving her gasping for air. Franco smiles, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her wet skin.

“God, Franco. Don't—yes, don't stop.”

“So tight, and pretty, and hot, and—fuck, you're not real, bébé,” he's muttering in between deep thrusts, his words half-incoherent as he moves inside her, giving in to the primal lust, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

He can hear how wet she is, knowing it's just a matter of time until she finally lets go. So, he rises his head slightly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, his voice raw and rough.

Franco's grip on her hips tightens, and it's almost painful, but then he suddenly stops, his body stilling inside her, the pleasure receding just slightly as he feels her come all over his throbbing length.

It takes everything in him to stop himself from following her, thrusting a couple more times to prolong her high. Then, he pulls out completely, guiding his cock between their bodies and pressing into her until his cum starts leaking onto her stomach. For a few seconds, it leaves a hot, dense trail before the water washes it away.

“Oh, my…” she breaths heavily, struggling to find her words.

As Franco finally releases his hold on her thighs, her legs falter beneath her, the strength utterly sapped from them. The slippery tile meets her feet, so unsteady, her body still trembling from the intensity her orgasm. Instinctively, her hands grip his arm, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping her from falling.

“Tranquila, bebita. ¿Estás bien?” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, while turning the water off. (Easy, baby. Are you okay?)

She lets out a soft, shaky laugh. “Sí.”

Franco chuckles softly, his grip on her tightening slightly.

For some reason, he feels the need to hold her, as though he’s afraid she might slip away — not in the shower, but from him.

“Have you ever been to Argentina?”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[housepartyprotocol]

Indycar Babes

Logan Sargeant x Indycar Driver!Childhood bestfriend!Reader

Summary: Childhood best friends reunite after years apart when Logan returns to America after departing F1. What other feelings return...

Masterlist / TipJar

ynusername

liked by patooward, callumilott, marcusarmstrong, and 70,342 others

ynusername Heading into a new season strong, with a championship title behind me

view all 598 comments

user I came from Pato O'Wards Instagram, does she also drive?

user omg yes, she drives for Andretti and literally won last season user shes an absolute power house

patooward see you on track

ynusername you'll see me beat you on the track! user shes an icon

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, williamsf1, oscarpiastri, and 142,245 others

logansargeant Dissapointing first few races but staying confident for the rest of the upcoming season

view all 9,255 comments

user he is so gonna get dropped before the end of the season

williamsf1 head up, keep pushing

user shit driver in a shit box car

user cut him some slack, it is a shit car user yeah but he is also terrible

alexalbon stay strong Logie bear

logansargeant hmmm not sure how I feel about that one

f1newsupdates

liked by 6,347 users

f1newsupdates LOGAN SARGEANT TO BE DROPPED! News has dropped that Logan Sargeant is to depart the Williams F1 and to be replaced by Franco Colapinto

view all 630 comments

user FINALLY

user He was leaving at the end of the season anyway, why drop him now

user He is just THAT bad

user the American flag is lowered

user Williams has destroyed that man

user Whats he going to do next?

user maybe indycar user he might quit racing user endurance?

ynusername

liked by callumilott, patooward, logansargeant, and 69,098 others

ynusername Race. Win. Selfie. Home. Dog. Race.

view all 983 comments

callumilott You went back to Florida?

ynusername I needed my puppy fix desperately callumilott you went back just for the dog? ynusername don't be crazy, i saw my family and close family friends

user OMG PUPPY

user she is dominating this season

user she could win it all next week again!

user that would be iconic

user imagine her in F1

user she wouldn't go, no team would take her, they're all too focused on the new blood in F2 ynusername who said I wanted to? user ahh shes here!!

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 98,363 others

logansargeant Home in time for the summer

view all 5,023 comments

user its sad when you realise the only reason he is properly home is because he is unemployed

user oh

user FLORIDA

user he is so hawt

user down right tasty user is he taken? user I don't think so

alexalbon looking nice and sunny !

logansargeant I burnt immediately, I forgot how the heat was alexalbon OUCH understandable logansargeant no one will see it is fine user he is feeeeeling the singleness

ynusername

liked by callumilott, logansargeant, patooward, and 75,236 others

ynusername Adding another title to my name. Enjoy Pato on the podium from early in the season. Don't ask why.

view all 1,397 comments

user CHAMPION

user I love her

patooward why me?

ynusername I said don't ask!!!!

logansargeant Congrats!

liked by ynusername user pookie what you doing here? user crossover!

user I can't tell if I want to be her or date her...

user you think like the rest of us

f1newsupdates

liked by 4,620 users

f1newsupdates Logan Sargeant to do Indycar testing at the end of the season! Hopefully, it will breathe hope and life back into that poor man!

view all 305 comments

user he looks so dead in that last photo, my soul hurts

user his home ground might regenerate him

user he'll probably bottle it

user god do you have to be so harsh user exactly!

user I was right with the indycar move

user he might not race next year, he's probably just testing

ynusername

liked by logansargeant, callumilott, patooward, and 74,259 others

ynusername Reunited with childhood bestie post season @ logansargeant

view all 829 comments

user COLLAB?!?

user this is so cute

user Baby YN AND BABY LOGAN?

user I didn't know they even knew each other

user logan has mentioned her a few times i think him being in F1 and F2 pushed them apart

callumilott oh god, blonde and less blond are back

ynusername we are ICONIC logansargeant haha we are

user are they dating?

user I don't think so but they are cuteee user they should!! user omg imagine them both in Indycar

logansargeant

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri, alexalbon, and 85,621 others

logansargeant Back with this girly for one evening and back to being feral teenagers. @ ynusername

view all 5,012 comments

user This is a paring I don't know how I lived without

user icons

alexalbon OMG is this the 'girly' you wouldn't stop talking about

alexalbon holy shit have you told her logansargeant get out of my comments. Now. user WHAT! Alex SPILL alexalbon okay so... logansargeant OFF. NOW.

user Logan Sargeant wearing a 'sexy' hat is incredible

ynusername Teenage us was a force to be reckoned with

logansargeant I don't know how our parents survived

ynusername

liked by logansargeant, patooward, callumilott, and 80,097 others

ynusername See this mf once and now he is everywhere

view all 976 others

user they are cute

logansargeant I am at your work. I am at your home. I am everywhere

user He is at her home?? user they have to be dating ynusername get a lifeeeeeeeee logansargeant nope

user remember Alex Albons comment, I bet Logan has a thing for her

user you might be right

user imagine then together next season!

user I thought Logan is not racing Indycar next year user but imagine!

logansargeant

liked by ynusername, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 88,523 others

logansargeant Pre-testing and post-testing snack

view all 2,567 comments

user do you think he knows the connotations of what he said

alexalbon yes user oh my god

ynusername making it look like all I do is eat, wow

logansargeant I mean, its half true ynusername I am not logansargeant you used to eat everything you could when you were younger ynusername i have grown since then logansargeant No, you are still short ynusername harsh logansargeant xx user they argue like a married couple

user is he racing Indy next year

user I don't think there is a spare seat user shame i love these two

alexalbon be a big man and use your words

logansargeant I don't know what you mean alexalbon don't make me get her number through my contacts, I will get it logansargeant okay, we will talk now, out of my comments user I think i know whats going on user I have no idea liked by ynusername

ynusername

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, callumilott, and 71,585 others

ynusername When it's getting colder but everyday feels like summer with you

view all 825 comments

user omg shes taken

user that is so logan

user childhood best friends to lovers arc

logansargeant you cooked?

ynusername always logansargeant don't know why i assumed you didn't ynusername I had help logansargeant I sensed that user gag

callumilott how did you brace that water?

ynusername with clenched teeth callumilottt okay fair

user she is beautiful

logansargeant

liked by ynusername, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 95,987 others

logansargeant Only took 23 years to act on a feeling @ ynusername

view all 2,352 comments

user hes takEN

user this is adorable

alexalbon god do I love blackmailing

logansargeant shut up alexalbon it worked though logansargeant I was going to do something alexalbon bs ynusername bs logansargeant damn

ynusername I love you too logie

logansargeant god youve always been perfect ynusername and I can finally say I've got more driving titles than you logansargeant I have more karting trophies user I love these two

user I would die if there families had bets

ynusername they did, dad won $100 from this user thats incredible, what was the bet? ynusername before our 24ths user obscure but good for him!

(a/n okay so not my favvvvvv but still cute i love these two they were so fun to write!)

(No one has permission to copy or reuse or repost my work, love housepartyprotocol)

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST PT3 | FC43

part one | part two |

an: this is the most requested part three. i fell asleep so many times writing this but i’m waiting for tate’s new song so it gave me something to do. not proof read.

wc: 8.3k

It was nearly dawn when Franco turned off the engine, but the silence felt hollow. He sat motionless in the cockpit of his car, his hands still gripping the wheel even though he had finished his lap over an hour ago. The empty track stretched before him, a stark grey line splitting the waking sky, and for a fleeting moment, he considered taking off down it one more time, just for the noise.

That had been the only reason he'd even bothered coming out this morning. Noise. Anything loud enough to cut through the thick numbness that had settled over his life the last two years. Even racing—his childhood dream, his only real thrill—felt distant, just another repetition in an endless loop of things he used to care about.

He let go of the wheel, his fingers stiff and aching, and slumped back into his seat. The inside of the car still smelled new, though he’d driven this car all season. But everything in his life felt new in the wrong way, like he was breaking in someone else's skin.

Franco closed his eyes, but there was no escape there either. As much as he tried to avoid it, the image still came easily: two years ago, his wedding day. The hushed gasp of the guests as he had walked back down the aisle alone, the weight of his father-in-law’s hand on his shoulder. And her eyes—his childhood best friend, his first love, his confession to her still raw in his throat. He'd bared his heart, thought he was finally doing the right thing, only to watch her turn him down, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It was strange how clearly he could remember it. She had moved on. He was too late.

And yet here he was, two years later, sitting in the emptiness his choices had carved out. His marriage was the result of the aftermath—inevitable, unstoppable, once her father had coerced him into making it right. He’d been a fool to think he could live with it, that he could somehow build a life out of that hollowed-out choice. But every day he woke up, and every day it was the same. A stranger beside him, a public charade. He was trapped in a marriage more binding than he had ever imagined, one that had closed off any other life he might have had.

A tap on the side of the car startled him out of his thoughts. His agent, Eddie, looked at him expectantly, his face creased with concern. Franco forced himself to meet his gaze, pulling on a blank expression he’d perfected over the last two years.

"You good, man?" Eddie's voice sounded so distant for some reason.

Franco forced a nod. “Just getting in some practice.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "You finished over an hour ago."

Franco shrugged, not offering any other excuse. What could he say? That he no longer felt the rush, that even the raw thrill of racing at 200 miles per hour left him feeling nothing? It would be admitting too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle what Eddie would say if he knew.

As he finally climbed out of the car, his gaze drifted toward the track, that endless stretch of asphalt, and for just a second, he felt a flicker of what it used to mean to him. Freedom, purpose, maybe even love. But that had been before her—before he had thrown it all away, thinking he could have her back. And now all he was left with was this: the shadow of a life he hadn’t chosen, the memory of a love that had been real once, and a future he couldn’t bring himself to face.

Franco shook his head, stuffing the thought away. "Let’s just get through today" he muttered to himself, the words a quiet vow.

Tomorrow, he’d put on the act again.

The house was silent when Franco walked in. He closed the door softly, slipping off his shoes out of habit rather than any real desire to keep the peace. She was there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, curled on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her. A book lay open on her lap, though her eyes weren’t moving over the words.

They hadn’t spoken much in days, maybe even weeks, except for the occasional small-talk exchange over morning coffee or at some public event. When they were alone, it was as if they were two strangers who’d agreed on a routine. She looked up as he walked in, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first.

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, moving past her as if it were just another evening in this quiet, loveless house. He heard her shift, a quick intake of breath, and he paused, feeling her eyes on his back.

“I cheated,” she said, her voice flat, almost as if it were a statement she’d practised a thousand times, something she needed to let out before it grew stale.

Franco slowly turned to face her, letting the words settle, though he didn’t feel anything sharp or raw. Instead, there was just the dull, familiar weight of something like resignation. He studied her face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to come, but there was nothing. Just the same emptiness that had been there for two years.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm, resigned.

She blinked, her expression faltering. “Okay?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t expected that response. Her brow furrowed, and she set her book aside, sitting up straighter. “That’s it? Just… okay?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you want me to do about it? You’ve already done it.”

She searched his face, a flicker of frustration and hurt sparking in her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry, Franco?” Her voice was louder now, cracking slightly. “Why don’t you care? Why don’t you… love me? What did I do wrong?”

For the first time that evening, he felt something stir. Not anger, exactly, but a kind of distant ache. He looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the exhaustion in her face, the years of pretending, of building a life on a foundation that had never been real. And he knew, somehow, that she felt as trapped as he did.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t have it in me to love you, not in the way you want.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. “But we were supposed to be in this together. My father… Your team. The whole world expects it. I have tried, Franco. I’ve done everything I could to make this work. I just wanted you to see me, to try…”

He sighed, looking away. “We’ve been pretending for two years. It’s not that I haven’t seen you—I just don’t think we were ever meant to see each other this way.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “So what now? We just keep living like this, sharing the same house, putting on a show for everyone?”

Franco didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do, what the next step would even look like. They were bound together by more than their vows—by the expectations, the pressure, the image of a life neither of them had chosen. He knew she deserved better than this emptiness, the hollow echo of what might have been.

After a moment, he sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

She looked away, biting her lip, and for the first time he saw the loneliness in her eyes. "I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I don’t know if I ever knew."

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, and then let out a long, quiet breath. "I’ll speak to my father," she said, her voice steady. “We’ll break it off. There’s… someone else. For me, I mean.”

Franco nodded, feeling only a strange sort of relief. “Okay.”

She gave a small, sad smile, as if she’d expected more—anger, maybe, or regret. “I’ll make sure he keeps the sponsors on your team,” she added, her voice softening. “It’s the least I can do.”

Franco shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

For a moment, she looked at him with something almost like sympathy. “Franco… it’s not your fault,” she said.

He frowned slightly, unsure what she meant. “What isn’t?”

She looked away, gathering her thoughts, and then back at him, her gaze unwavering. “It’s not your fault you still love her after all these years. Some things… they just don’t go away.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t find the words to respond. Her words hung between them, exposing something he’d tried to bury, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. His silence was answer enough.

“She was a very lovely woman when I met her,” she continued, her voice softer, almost wistful. “I’m sure she hasn’t changed. I’m sure you two would be perfect together.”

He looked down, swallowing the ache in his chest. For all their distance, she’d seen more of him than he’d realised, even if they had never truly belonged to each other. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s why they’d been drifting from the beginning, like two people playing their parts, waiting for the script to finally run out.

He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck, his voice low. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

She nodded, her eyes full of an understanding that somehow made this harder. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”

He gave her a brief nod, then turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps soft against the hardwood. The walls of the house felt like a cage, closing in with every step, but he knew that maybe, for the first time, there was a way out—for both of them.

Franco closed the door to the guest room, feeling the weight of everything settling over him. He felt like a visitor in his own life, just as he had every day for the past two years. He slipped off his watch, set it on the nightstand, and reached for his phone to set an alarm.

Just as he did, his mother’s name lit up the screen. She called him every night, their routine barely wavering since he’d left home all those years ago to chase his dream. He answered, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Oh, finally, you picked up! I thought I’d missed you tonight, hijo.” she said, her voice bright and warm, filling the room with a bit of comfort he hadn’t known he needed.

“Sorry. It’s been… a long day,” he replied, not sure where to start even if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sympathy lacing her voice. She paused, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

He smiled slightly, settling back against the pillows. “Knowing you, mama, it could be anyone.”

“You flatter me,” she laughed. “But no, this one you’ll want to hear. I ran into your chiquita's mama at the market this morning.”

At the mention of his childhood best friend, Franco’s heart gave a small, involuntary jolt. He kept his voice casual, though he could feel his pulse quicken. “Oh yeah?”

“Guess who’s moving back home?” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “She’s coming back without that boyfriend of hers—what was his name, Angelo or something? Anyway, I don’t know what happened there, but her mama didn’t say much, just that she’ll be moving back in soon.”

Franco fell silent, her words sinking in. She was moving back. Back to the same town, back to where they’d both grown up. It was strange hearing it now, after all this time—especially tonight. He tried to imagine her there, close by, after years of being nothing more than a memory, a lingering ache. She hadn’t been in touch since his wedding. They hadn’t spoken, not really, since that day he’d confessed everything.

“Franco?” his mother asked, her voice pulling him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m here. Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I thought you’d be pleased to know,” she said gently. “I don’t know why she’s moving back, and I suppose it’s none of my business, but I hope she’s doing alright. I always liked that girl.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He wondered what could have happened to bring her back. She’d seemed happy, at least in the few times he’d seen her in the public eye over the last two years—smiling, vibrant, that spark still in her. Whatever had drawn her back, he doubted it was anything good.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you,” his mother went on, a hint of cheer in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll see her around when she’s back. Goodness knows you two could catch up. I’ll let you get some sleep, though. You sound tired, love.”

“I am,” he said honestly. “Thanks, mama.”

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she said softly. “Try not to worry so much. Things have a way of working out.”

He hung up, setting the phone down on the nightstand, but his mind kept circling back to her, the unanswered questions piling up. Why was she moving home? Why now, after everything?

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet gnaw at him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring beneath the emptiness—something that he hadn’t let himself feel since that day two years ago. A flicker of hope, of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest hint of longing.

Franco woke up to an unsettling silence the following morning. The kind that felt thick, heavy, and somehow different from the usual quiet he’d grown accustomed to in this house. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, his mind still tangled in the remnants of last night’s conversation with his mother. She was moving back home. The thought had settled somewhere deep, like a stone sinking to the bottom of his chest, and he hadn’t stopped wondering why she’d come back.

He rose slowly, crossing the hall toward the master bedroom to grab his things, but as he reached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. There was an odd stillness inside, an emptiness. Pushing the door open fully, he froze.

The wardrobes were wide open, their shelves bare, nothing left but empty hangers. He scanned the room, taking in the strange absence of her things: the jewellery stand, her perfumes, even the photos from the dresser—all gone.

On the bed, her wedding band glinted in the morning light, sitting atop a folded sheet of paper. Heart pounding, Franco walked over and picked up the note, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page in clean, deliberate strokes.

"Go live a life you’ll enjoy. Go get the girl."

He read the words over and over, the reality slowly sinking in. She had really left. It was over, finally—no more strained conversations, no more pretences, no more empty rooms they shared out of duty. She had made the choice for both of them, letting him go in a way neither of them had been able to until now.

He let out a slow, deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and regret. She had given him a way out, but he felt a twinge of sadness for the life they’d tried and failed to build, and for the woman who’d known him well enough to let him go.

After a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled to his agent’s number. It rang twice before Eddie answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Franco? It’s barely morning. You okay?”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Yeah. Listen, Eddie, I need you to book me a flight.”

“A flight? Where are you going?”

“Home. To Argentina.” He paused, and for the first time in two years, the words felt right. “I just need to go home.”

Eddie hesitated on the other end. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ll figure everything out when I get there,” Franco replied, feeling a resolve he hadn’t felt in years.

Eddie sighed, but there was something like approval in his voice. “Alright, I’ll get it sorted. You’ll be on a plane by tonight.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Franco hung up, glancing around the room one last time. He pocketed her note, her words still echoing in his mind.

True to Eddie's word, Franco was on a flight six hours later. The journey was a blur of cramped seats, stale air, and the faint taste of regret that clung to the back of his throat. The turbulence was relentless, like some cosmic joke, as if the universe itself wanted to remind him that nothing had ever been easy. He tried to sleep, but the aching pull of everything he’d left behind in that house—his marriage, his choices, his dreams—kept him awake, staring out at the dark sky, thinking of all the roads that had led him here.

By the time he landed in Buenos Aires and caught a car for the long drive north to his family's old village, the exhaustion had crept under his skin, weighing him down like a thousand unspoken words. But the quiet beauty of the countryside—the sun setting over fields that stretched on forever—started to soothe him, even if just a little.

The car ride seemed endless, every minute dragging with the weight of his thoughts. But when the familiar sight of his family’s village finally came into view—cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air—something inside Franco began to shift. The city felt miles away, the noise, the crowds, the weight of his past life all falling away as he crossed into the place that had always felt like home.

The moment he stepped through the door of his childhood house, all of that exhaustion seemed to vanish. The house was exactly as he remembered it—warm, full of life, and alive with the kind of energy he hadn't felt in so long. His mother’s soft humming from the kitchen filled the air, the scent of her cooking familiar and comforting in a way nothing else ever had been.

“Mama?” he called, stepping into the kitchen.

She looked up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of him. It was like the years had slipped away in an instant, and before he could even move, she was across the room, enveloping him in her arms.

“Oh, hijo,” she said, pulling him in tight. “You’re home. You’re really home.”

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the comforting smells of garlic and simmering stew. It was the same as it had always been. His mother’s embrace felt like a balm, her steady, familiar presence filling up the spaces in his chest that had been empty for so long. He let himself relax into the hug, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

She pulled back, looking at him with concern now, her gaze soft but knowing. “You look like you’ve been through a storm. What happened, Franco?”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… been a hot minute.”

She stepped back, eyes still lingering on him as she turned toward the counter, gesturing for him to sit. "Come, sit. You must be starving."

As he slid into the chair at the table, his mother’s eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring had once sat. The absence of it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Franco," she said softly, her voice delicate but insistent, “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spot where the band had once been. The question hit him harder than he expected, like a weight on his chest.

He took a deep breath, his words coming out slow, almost reluctant. "I… I never loved her, Mama. Not like I should’ve. Not like I should’ve loved the person I married."

His mother didn’t flinch, didn’t offer a shocked look or try to comfort him with false reassurances. Instead, she simply nodded, as if she had known all along. The silence between them was calm, understanding.

"I knew," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I knew from the start, Franco. I could see it. You were never... you were never right with her."

He exhaled, a small weight lifting from his chest. His mother didn’t judge him. She hadn’t expected him to make some fairy tale of a marriage. She had always known him better than anyone.

"Why didn’t you say something?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

She smiled softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "You had to learn it on your own, cariño. I couldn’t take that from you."

He sat back in his chair, letting her words sink in. This was home. The quiet understanding, the unconditional love. The very things he had been running from for so long. And now, in this moment, he felt like he was finally allowed to come back to it.

His mother leaned in, brushing the hair from his forehead as if he were still that little boy who had left for the big city years ago. "You’ll be alright, Franco. I know you will. You always find your way back."

He smiled, his heart full, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mama," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I’m ready to find it now."

His mother studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. The comfortable silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice casual, but with a slight undercurrent of something he couldn’t quite place.

“You know, she moved back this morning,” she said, a soft note of curiosity in her tone.

Franco looked up sharply, his stomach tightening at the mention of her. “She did?”

His mother nodded, stirring a pot on the stove. He shifted in his seat, trying to steady the flutter of emotions that were beginning to rise in his chest. She was back. The thought of her living just next door made his heart ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like a sign, but it also felt like a question—one he didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “But I’m sure it’s for the best. She’s probably just trying to figure things out.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look before turning back to the stove. "It’s not easy, you know. Coming back here after all those years. Maybe she just needs some time. Things haven't been easy for her, either."

Franco nodded absently, his mind already racing, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind. He’d always wondered what it would be like if they were close again—if the years between them could just vanish, and they could pick up where they left off. But that was before everything had changed.

Before he’d made a mess of everything.

“I’ll give her space,” he said after a long pause. “She clearly needs it if she’s come back home. I don’t want to crowd her, not like this.”

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her gaze soft and full of the kind of love only a mother could offer. She didn’t press, but Franco could tell she was seeing more in him than he was letting on. She always had that way of reading him, even when he didn’t want to be read.

“I think that’s wise, Franco,” she said quietly. “But don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the right things—people—can slip away if we don’t take the chance when we can.” She gave him a small smile, her eyes gentle but full of a mother’s wisdom. “Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. The right things... people. Was she talking about her?

He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he had already lost so much—lost the girl he had once called his best friend. His true love. That much was clear.

But he couldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with her. Not now.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t. I’ll give her the time she needs… and then, I’ll figure out what comes next.” He forced a small smile, looking back up at her. “But first, I think I need to settle in here, Mama. Just for a bit.”

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she moved to set the table. “Take your time, cariño. You’ve earned it.” Then she added softly, almost to herself, “And when you’re ready, you know where she is.”

Franco nodded, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a promise he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. He had to sort through the years of distance, the pain, the confusion, and the mess he had made before he could even think of approaching her again.

That night the house was quiet as Franco prepared for bed, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the bones. The weight of the day’s emotions, of the journey—of everything—pressed on him like a physical force, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was still missing.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes scanning the reflection—a man who hadn’t truly looked at himself in a long time. His face was a little more worn, the years of racing and the strain of the past two had carved lines into his features. And yet, there was a boy in those eyes too—the one who used to laugh freely, who used to dream of more than just what life had given him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the quiet ache of the past two years swirling in his chest again. Where did it all go wrong? He’d asked himself this so many times, but the answer had never been clear. His life had seemed like it was on track, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until it all came crashing down, leaving him here, in his childhood home, looking at a version of himself he didn’t recognise.

Where did it all go to shit?

He turned away from the mirror, needing a moment of peace, a change of scenery. The night air felt crisp as he stepped out onto the balcony, the soft night breeze brushing against his skin. The village was quiet, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. The stars above him were impossibly bright, as if they had been waiting for him to step out into this space to show themselves.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in. The vast sky, the deep silence, the comfort of being home, of being away from all the chaos of the life he’d left behind. He closed his eyes for a beat, letting himself breathe.

Then, he froze.

From across the yard, on the roof of the house next door, a figure was sitting—her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the stars.

Franco didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The sight of her—after all these years—was like a jolt to the chest, a flood of old memories and emotions crashing over him.

At first, he considered turning back into the house, pretending he hadn’t seen her, pretending the universe wasn’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. But his feet stayed rooted to the ground, his eyes locked on her figure, so familiar, so her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, especially not like this. Not sitting on the roof, in the same place they used to sit together as kids, watching the stars and talking about everything and nothing.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Before he could make up his mind, she spoke, her voice drifting through the night air, quiet but unmistakable. “Staring’s rude, you know.”

Franco’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.

He stayed where he was, still unsure, a little frozen by the way his heart was racing. “I didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head slightly, but didn’t look directly at him. “I always notice,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her tone was more playful than anything else.

He let out a small laugh, a bit surprised by her nonchalance. It was just like her to act so casual, even in the middle of something heavy.

“I wasn’t planning to interrupt,” he added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just thought I'd leave you to it."

She didn’t respond right away, but he could see the way her gaze flickered toward him, though she didn’t move. After a beat, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “You came home.”

“I did,” he said, his heart racing as he stood there, not knowing where to go from here. “Took me a while, but I’m here.”

She nodded, the soft rustle of her hair catching the starlight. "Good. I didn’t think you would."

Franco swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words hanging thick between them. "I... didn’t think I would either."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... heavy, in a way that felt like they were both waiting for something. Waiting for the moment when they could go back to being what they once were. But Franco knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Too much had happened between them, too many years spent apart.

Her voice broke the quiet, her words soft but inviting. “There’s space next to me. You should come up here.”

Franco hesitated for a second longer, unsure, but something in her tone, a subtle pull, urged him forward. He glanced around briefly before deciding to take a chance.

Carefully, he climbed over the small stone wall dividing their balconies, his fingers finding familiar purchase as he pulled himself over. The moment his feet hit the roof, the memories of their childhood came rushing back—sitting on the very same roof, talking about everything and nothing, watching the stars as if they were the only two people in the world.

It felt surreal, like no time had passed at all, even though everything between them had changed.

She was already sitting cross-legged, her back turned slightly toward him, but she patted the spot next to her, silently urging him to join her. He moved toward her, then sat down, the cool roof beneath him grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he finally reached the top, she shifted to make room, and before he even fully settled beside her, she was resting her head on his shoulder. It was as natural as breathing, a comfort he hadn’t realised he’d been starved for.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they sat together, not speaking, just sharing the same space, the same memories that lingered between them like a soft, delicate thread. It was as though the silence held all the things they couldn’t say out loud.

Finally, it was her who broke the quiet, her voice low and tinged with regret. “Sorry I never replied to your letter.”

Franco’s heart stuttered in his chest at the mention of the letter. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not after everything that had happened. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. “You... you received it?”

She nodded slowly, lifting her head from his shoulder but not fully pulling away. She stared up at the stars, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes in the air. “Four days ago,” she said, her voice soft and distant, as though the words were hard to say.

Four days ago.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The letter. The letter he’d written years ago, before everything spiralled out of control, before the wedding, before he called it all off. The letter where he had laid bare his feelings for her—telling her everything he’d never had the courage to say before. Telling her that he loved her. That he’d leave his fiancé for her. That he wanted to be with her.

The letter had been the final step, the desperate confession that he couldn’t hold inside any longer.

“I… I didn’t know,” Franco muttered, his throat tight. “I sent it because I thought you needed to know. I thought you needed to hear it.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t expect you to just—ignore it.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him ache. “I didn’t ignore it,” she said softly. “I didn’t know about it. Angelo hid it from me.”

Franco froze. Angelo. The same guy she’d been with all those years, the one who had kept the letter from her. The weight of it hit him hard, a cold knot in his stomach. “He hid it?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I only found it four days ago when I was packing.” She paused, as though weighing whether or not to say more, then sighed. “He kept it from me, Franco. Told me it was nothing, just some silly thing from the past. But it wasn’t nothing. It was you. It was everything you were trying to say. And I didn’t even know until hours before your wedding.”

Franco could feel his chest tighten, the words he had written, the words that had been locked inside of him for so long, echoing in the space between them. He had no idea she’d never received it. No idea she had been living in that oblivion, thinking that nothing had changed when, in reality, everything had been laid out for her years ago.

Franco closed his eyes, the weight of her words settling over him. His entire life had been built around the lies he’d told himself, and in the end, he had only hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the sky, the stars so far away. “I never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, the confession falling from his lips before he could stop it. “I never stopped thinking about you, even when I thought I should. Even when I tried to move on, I always... always thought about you. About Monza.”

Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet confession in the night air. “I shouldn’t have come to that wedding,” she said, her words hanging in the space between them like a breath held too long.

Franco blinked, his heart stuttering slightly in his chest as he turned to look at her. “Why?”

She sighed, her eyes focused on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable in the soft glow of the moon. “Because I thought I was over you, Franco. I really did. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else, someone who wasn’t me, would help me move on. But when I watched you declare your love for me in front of everyone... it hit me all at once. I felt like I was coasting through a lie with Angelo for two years.”

Franco’s chest tightened at the mention of Angelo again, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, something they had never really spoken about. She took a slow breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as she spoke again.

“I couldn’t give him all of me,” she continued, her voice wavering for the first time, just the slightest crack in her calm demeanour. “When you still had half my heart.”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat at her words. She still loved him. Despite everything, despite the time apart, despite the man she had been with, a part of her had never truly moved on.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the right words to express the swirl of emotions inside him. The guilt, the confusion, the longing. All he could do was listen, his heart aching with each word she spoke.

“Amor…” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, trying to find his grounding. “She cheated on me. My wife.” He added as though she needed clarification.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. She waited for him to continue, her breath catching in her throat.

Franco stared out at the stars, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t feel much at first. I think I expected it. In some way, I always did. I’d been living in a marriage where I wasn’t really present for a long time.” He paused, his eyes distant as he recalled the feeling of his world unravelling. “But... when I found out, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I had already shut myself off from it all.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but piercing. “Really? You didn’t feel... anything?”

Franco’s heart twisted, “I felt guilty,” he admitted, his voice low. "I didn’t feel hurt or anger. I just felt... guilty."

She frowned, the confusion and concern evident in her eyes. “Guilty? Why? You didn’t cheat. You weren’t the one betraying her.”

Franco chuckled bitterly, a hollow sound that felt foreign to him. “No, I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been mentally cheating on her for years now.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. “With you. I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you. Wondering... what could have been.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his confession hanging between them like an invisible force. The air was thick, heavy with the things they hadn’t said, the things they had both buried for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant rustle of the trees, the wind whispering through the leaves. Then, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his, tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to reach out. But Franco didn’t pull away. He let her fingers weave through his, and for a moment, they were back to the way they used to be—close, without words, just a connection that had never truly faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence again. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you. I never wanted you to feel guilty.”

Franco shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve been honest with myself. With you. With everyone.”

Her hand found his, her grip soft but reassuring. “We can’t undo the past, Franco. But maybe... maybe we can stop running from it.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe a sign that they were on the same page, that this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, but the beginning of something else.

Franco’s heart skipped a beat. The ache inside him—this pull, this longing—felt more real now than it ever had before. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in it. Not yet. Not before he figured out what came next.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe we can.”

But for now, they stayed there, hand in hand, watching the stars as the night stretched on—together, but not quite ready to bridge the distance between them. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, with her close to him again, it felt like the possibility of a new beginning was still there.

And maybe that was enough.

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she stared up at the night sky, the stars scattered above them like little pieces of a puzzle they couldn’t quite put together. Her voice broke the quiet again, this time more introspective, tinged with a kind of sadness that Franco couldn’t shake. “Why are we like this?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air between them. “Why can’t we ever get it right? Why does it feel like we keep missing each other?”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat as he turned his head to look at her. He had no answer. No easy explanation for the years of missed opportunities, the broken promises, the things left unsaid. All he could do was let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke, his voice thick with regret.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his words barely audible, but full of the weight of everything he had kept buried for so long.

Her hand tightened around his, her fingers warm and steady against his skin. She didn’t look at him immediately. She just stared at the stars, letting the night take them both in. But when she did speak, her voice was clear, almost a little too sharp, as if she were trying to distance herself from the ache inside.

“I know,” she said, her words simple, yet filled with the unspoken truth between them.

Franco exhaled slowly, his chest tight with the unrelenting guilt that seemed to follow him wherever he went. “I really don’t,” he added, his tone heavier this time, the words more raw, like they were scraping against his very soul.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but steady as she met his gaze. “But you’ll always have me anyway,” she said, her voice gentle, almost a whisper, but strong in its promise. “All of me. Even if you think you don’t deserve it, even if you feel like you’ve lost me, I’m still here. I always will be.”

Franco closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, to hold on to the promise she was offering, but he knew that he had to fix everything first. He had to prove to himself, to her, that he was worthy.

After a long moment, his mind shifted, a question bubbling up to the surface, something that had been nagging at him for a while now. “What happened to Angelo?” he asked, his voice quiet, but urgent with curiosity.

Her gaze flickered away, her expression becoming unreadable for a brief second. She didn’t speak at first, but then, she sighed, her voice small as she turned her head back toward the night sky.

“He proposed,” she said softly, her words hitting Franco like a punch to the gut. “He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of a restaurant, and asked me to marry him.”

Franco’s heart sank. He had imagined the two of them together, but hearing her speak those words, hearing the finality in her tone, made something inside him shift. His breath caught in his throat.

“And you didn’t say yes,” he whispered, the realisation washing over him slowly, painfully.

She shook her head, her fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve as she gathered her thoughts. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes,” she murmured, her voice distant, like the memory still held weight over her. “I couldn’t lie to him, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Not after everything. I just... I couldn’t. And when I looked at him, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that the whole time, I had been lying to both of us, pretending that he was enough when I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

Franco felt his chest tighten, his heart aching with understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for Angelo, for her, or for himself, but it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She didn’t respond right away. She just sat there beside him, her head back on his shoulder, her fingers still twined with his. The night stretched on, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but there was something in the air that felt different now. It wasn’t just the weight of their shared history or the unsaid words that hovered between them. There was something else.

Something that, for the first time, felt like the beginning of something new.

After a while, she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re still here, not when you’ve always been here, Franco.”

Franco closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the curve of her hand. “I understand,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure of anything right now except that he needed to make it right—whatever that looked like.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet stretching between them, neither of them in a rush to break the stillness. The night air was cool against their skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle with the same quiet understanding that hung in the air. For the first time in years, it felt like they were both exactly where they were meant to be—together.

But slowly, the rhythm of her breathing changed, softening, slowing. Franco felt it before he saw it, the gentle shift in the weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, his heart softening at the sight of her—her lashes fluttering closed, her face serene and peaceful in sleep. She was completely relaxed, as if the weight of everything had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the quiet that had settled between them. But as minutes ticked by, he knew it was time to move her. Carefully, he slipped his arm beneath her, lifting her gently, cradling her close. Her head rested on his chest as he stood, her body instinctively curling against him. She felt weightless in his arms, and for a second, he couldn’t believe how natural it all felt.

As he carried her through the door to her room, the familiar smell of her childhood home wrapped around him—the scent of lavender and old wood, a place both foreign and intimately familiar. The room was just as he remembered, simple and cosy, with little traces of her scattered throughout. He looked down at the floor he used to sleep on when they were young The soft, pale light of the moon filtered through the window, casting everything in a gentle glow.

He placed her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her, his chest heavy with emotion. Everything about this felt so right, so painfully wrong at the same time. He should have been here years ago. He should have never let things get so far. But now, he was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than he meant to, his heart aching with all the things he never said.

Just as he turned to leave, to head back to his own house, her voice stopped him.

“Don’t.”

Franco froze. His hand rested on the window frame , his heart stalling in his chest. He turned slowly, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

“What?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

She looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something in her gaze—vulnerable, raw, but full of longing. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t watch you walk away again. Please don’t.”

For a moment, Franco stood there, his chest tight as he processed her words. Don’t go. It was all he needed to hear. She didn’t want him to leave. After everything that had happened, after all the distance between them, she still wanted him here.

He walked back toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to say anything; the weight of the moment, the look in her eyes, said it all. He carefully slid under the covers, settling beside her, the warmth of her body so familiar yet so new.

Without a word, she shifted, curling into him, her head finding its place on his chest, her hand resting gently against his side. Franco wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real. And it was theirs.

They stayed there, the rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. No more words were needed. No more distance. Just the two of them, together, holding on to each other like they were afraid to let go.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together beneath the covers, Franco realised that this moment—this feeling of being home—was everything he had been searching for.

Home.

Her.

It was all synonymous.

She was his home.

the end.

taglist: @sp1rl @yennasaurusrex @ellen3101 @firefirevampire @directioner5life @littlegrapejuice @obxstiles @scopeiguess @newlifeforus @justsisse @zestytimbit @taygrls @charlosvibesonly @sparkleofpizza

[no-144444]

the grid: when they admit they love you!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared 

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could. 

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door. 

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.  

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.” 

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.” 

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy. 

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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled. 

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you. 

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better? 

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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that. 

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?” 

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong. 

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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon. 

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach. 

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him. 

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled. 

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing. 

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.” 

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

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George Russell: of course…

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally  winning another race. 

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations. 

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh. 

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic. 

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous 

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white. 

“What?” you asked, looking back at him. 

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets. 

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on. 

He’d tell you, one day. 

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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you. 

He chuckled and you looked at him confused. 

“You alright?” 

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you. 

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.” 

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Alex Albon: oh… yah. 

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this. 

“Hey,” you smiled. 

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.” 

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown. 

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10. 

Oh shit. He was in love with you. 

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid. 

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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend. 

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored. 

“It’s good to see you again,” you  smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right? 

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Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them. 

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it. 

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you. 

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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained. 

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke. 

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth. 

He loved you. 

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away. 

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior. 

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!” 

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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you. 

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!” 

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence. 

What the fuck had he just done?

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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of)  his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even. 

“Do you want anything?” you yawned. 

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world. 

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?” 

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat. 

He chuckled, watching after you. 

Wow, he was mature. And, in love. 

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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together. 

He looked at you with wide-eyes. 

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.” 

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit. 

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right? 

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

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Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much? 

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned. 

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said. 

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him. 

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.” 

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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed 

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body. 

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out. 

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right?  All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right?  All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right? 

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space. 

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek. 

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“Why’d you leave?” you asked. 

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue. 

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?” 

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” 

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed. 

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.” 

Wow, Paul was right, for once. 

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Max Verstappen: strange man 

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.” 

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued. 

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.” 

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes. 

“You love me?” you questioned. 

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock. 

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved. 

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Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility 

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!” 

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there. 

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!” 

When did love become so complicated?

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Jack Doohan: so not casual 

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything. 

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes. 

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of  stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[purinfelix]

clumsy ⭑.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: being a mechanic is a tough enough job - but with a driver like franco who can be oh so distracting, sometimes it feels impossible w/c: 1.1k

a/n: woops this was meant to just be a blurb but i fear my franco fics can never be short ....

The chaos of the garage never failed to get your adrenaline pumping and this race weekend was certainly no exception. Ever since becoming a mechanic, you prided yourself on being able to enjoy the thrill of every grand prix up close, without actually ever having to step foot in the car. The only payoff was spending almost the entire race on edge, constantly nervous about when the next pit stop would be and whether you'd be ready - but it was a price you were more than willing to pay.

Intently, you watched one of the several large screens in the garage, chewing your bottom lip nervously. Tapping your foot restlessly you watched the cars go into another lap, keeping your eye on the two royal blue cars that belonged to your team. As they neared the garage you heard the familiar sound of them zipping past, and couldn't help but smile softly to yourself.

"Franco pitting next lap!" Your moment of peace was disrupted as the garage erupted into action, people shouting orders from every direction.

"Get him some hards, we're doing a tyre swap," an engineer next to you hissed with urgency, and your body moved instinctually to do as he said.

You can feel the familiar sensation of your heart beating out of your chest, that thrill that you love so much about your job - but also the immense pressure you feel. It helps a little, being part of a bigger team, but still the responsibility you feel is sometimes overwhelming. You crouch in position, at the front right wheel, gripping onto the tyre through your gloves - waiting.

Soon you hear the whirring noise signalling your next job is here, and sure enough you turn to spot Franco's bright blue car speeding in. Around you the team hurries, yelling out instructions and concerns but through your nerves you can barely hear them.

Before you realise it, he's right in front of you and for some reason his visor is flipped up far enough that you can see his eyes. You're caught off guard by how strangely charming he looks with his cheeks squished up like that - but the minute he winks at you, everything else falls silent. Everything else apart from your heart, which is speeding up even faster than you've ever felt it go before. You feel your cheeks flush quickly as your grip on the tyre in front of you loosens.

A muffled voice screams urgently from above you, bringing you back to reality slowly.

"What?" is all you can let out.

"The tyre! Put on the goddamn tyre!"

"Oh shit." You huff under your breath, finally regaining control of your senses and showing the tyre to the car in front of you. You watch as he speeds off, listening to the groans of the other mechanics around you. Normally your blood would be running cold after such a devastating mistake, but right now there's only one thing on your mind - the amused smile you saw in Franco's eyes as he drove off.

"What the hell was that? You just cost us like three seconds!" You turn to one of your superiors, whose face is contorted in disappointment. All you can do is begin rattling off sorrowful apologies and try your best to come up with a reason for your mistake that isn't three seconds of eye contact with your team's new charming driver.

Ultimately, the three seconds didn't seem to cost you too much - both of your drivers managed to score within points range for the day. Whilst the rest of the garage was busy rushing out to celebrate this fact, you simply lingered, relieved that your mistake would hopefully be forgotten, at least for now.

"Sorry for earlier, you hear a smooth voice from behind you as you're slipping off your gloves - causing you to jump. Spinning around you're once again met with Franco's green eyes, only now you're granted the benefit of the rest of his face too.

"Right, and what exactly are you apologising for?"

"Isn't it obvious? The whole tyre mishap."

"A little bold of you to assume that it had anything to do with you," you huff defensively, beginning to change your mind about wanting to be alone in the garage and beginning the walk out to the paddock.

"Well," he's following after you and as he comes up beside you, you catch a glimpse of the playful smile toying at his lips, "wasn't it because of me?"

"If that's what you want to believe, then sure, whatever floats your ego bud."

"To think a trained mechanic like you could make such a mistake," you feel your hands curl up into balls at the teasing drawl in his voice, "all because of a little eye contact from little ol' me?"

"Right, eye contact, a wink and a smirk."

"Aha!" His sudden jump in volume causes you to stop in your tracks and spin to face him. "So it was my fault after all."

You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being caught out so easily. "Whatever," you mumble, resuming your walk out of the garage.

"Really, I'm flattered," he continues in a dramatic tone, "I didn't think my charms had such a strong effect!"

"Hey watch who you're talking to, remember at the end of the day who's responsible for making sure you can even drive out there." Despite your threatening words, the confident expression on his face doesn't falter even as he lets out a soft chuckle of amusement - which you try not to let get to you, but god it's like the music of angels.

"I really am sorry," he insists, "I didn't mean to make you do that, truly."

"Alright, glad we got that out of the way."

Before you can leave though, you feel him suddenly close the gap between the two of you - his breath hot in your ear. "I guess it just means the flirting will have to stay off-track though, hm?" His voice is like honey, and a lot deeper than the playful tone he was using before.

It stops you right in your tracks, urging your heartbeat higher than it's been all day. As you stand there, desperately searching for a witty quip back or even just words to fill the silence, he just leans back with a smile. He tilts his head, as if signalling for you to follow him, as if urging you to act like he didn't do what he just did, before walking casually out of the garage.

As you finally managed to unstick your feet from their place you reluctantly followed suit - and whilst you were grateful that your earlier mistake had been forgiven, now you were worried about the entirely new challenge you had granted yourself for the upcoming weeks.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added! <3)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk

[katiascraft]

Hi!! I've been obsess with your works

Now, hear me out because your poll stroke an idea in me 👀👀

How about: Argentine!Reader x Oscar Piastri, and starts teaching him spanish so he can understand Franco's Interviews

Thank you!!

Ooooh yes yes yes!!! Here it is and I hope you like it �� thank you for your requests and support! I really appreciate it mwak mwak 😙 (sorry it’s a bit late but better late than never!)

——————————————————————————————

“Indirectas Directas” | OP81

Part 1 -> “Made in Argentina: The Series” (Oscar’s Version)

Parings: Oscar Piastri x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: you and Oscar have known each other since your best friend Franco Colapinto started competing in F3. You always had a crush on the Australian pilot. You have been friends for a while now but the friendship got closer since Franco got in F1 and you can see each other every race weekend. The butterflies starts for both of you. Do you really just wanna be friends? You teaching him “piropos” from your country may have subliminal messages.

Now playing: “IMÁN (Two of Us)” by Maria Becerra.

Word count: +1.2k.

Warnings: a few curse words. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: alrightyyyyy I hope this is good! And I really recommend Maria! I love herrrr my queen!! I did my best with the piropos jajaja Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Hola, todo bien?” Oscar said carefully and weirdly remembering what you taught him a few seconds ago. You nodded proud of his Spanish.

“Todo bien, ¿qué contas?” You said in your Argentine accent making him open his eyes wildly panicking. He loved your voice in Spanish; it was slightly higher pitched than in English. In English you have a deeper voice for some reason. Of course he asked about it and you explained it may be because of the pronunciation of the words. It's really so different from one language to the other.

“What the hell did you ask?” He said giggling a little, making you laugh too.

“I asked you what’s up” you explained and wrote down that phrase in the little notebook he brought with a pen. All mc claren branded.

The friendship between you two has become closer with each race. You were good friends before but not that close. It was something either of you couldn’t explain. Like your bodies were driven directly to one another unconsciously. You didn’t want to think too much about it. You didn’t want to overthink it.

His face was like ‘oh yeah right it makes sense’. He smiled at your handwriting so rounded and legible. Unlike his. His was a little messy.

“Yo estoy carrera hoy” he tried to answer it without asking how to. You laughed and he blushed. “This is embarrassing, it's really hard to connect the words” he said shyly and you found it so cute.

“It was close though don’t feel bad. Spanish it’s super complicated for non-Latin language speakers. We have like 20 tenses and shit. It’s a mess” you explained to cheer him up. He loved the fact you knew so much about languages because you also knew how to talk Portuguese and Italian pretty perfectly in his opinion. He has heard you even trying to speak French with Pierre last weekend. He was impressed.

“Yeah I get it now” he said grinning. “Must be nice to flirt in Spanish like I don’t know like you automatically sound sexier and more interesting” he said, making you laugh. “No really like I heard Carlos talking to an interviewer the other day and I think I am in love actually” he said, making you laugh even more. He loved making you laugh. Your laugh was like a drug to him. You looked way too cute doing so.

“Well I don’t know actually but in Argentina we have some top level flirting like really great phrases. Let me teach you some. Wait I’ll look for some on google so I can help myself remember” you said excited about it because you knew it was gonna be bizarre and funny at best.

“Phrases? Like roses are red and that kind of stuff?” He asked curiously and you nodded looking at your phone.

He couldn’t help but get distracted by the way you looked. Like every other race weekend you were wearing one of the million Argentina tees you have in your wardrobe. Your skin was glowing because of the sunscreen making your freckles stand out even more. You dyed your hair blond a few weeks ago and it looked incredible on you. He wouldn’t have expected that change but it looked so good on you. Anyway, he was convinced that anything you do to your hair will always look good always. Because you were beautiful. And he thought that was dangerous. You’re supposed to be friends right? And he knows Franco will kill him if he finds out he likes you. But he couldn’t help it. You were so interesting to him. You went everywhere with your mate and sang a lot of football songs he didn’t understand but you looked so happy singing them with Franco. Like he was captivated by your foreign beauty. So different from Australia or Europe or even the United States. You were loud and always laughing. Your bright smile always makes everyone so happy. All of the boys loved you. You were the life of every party. And you also knew so much about formula 1 it was impressive. Then you told him you were studying for an engineering degree and everything made sense. You loved the sport. And you were the proud friend. He loved that you were so passionate about everything. Even now that you have this teacher and student dynamic, you take it so seriously. He loved it. And he liked it even more because he knew that you were a teacher back in your country. And he could see how much you love to teach and you were actually really good at it.

“Alright I found the first one!” You said already laughing. “Okay ready?” He nodded, smiling, waiting for your magic voice to pronounce the weirdest shit but sound amazing.

“Mi amor, quien fuera cemento para sostener ese monumento” you said and started laughing because his face was a poem.

“What the hell?” He said laughing as well. “What does it mean? It really sounded terrible, " he said dramatically.

“It means: my love, who could be cement to hold that monument” he bursted out laughing.

“What? I don’t know if it’s geniuous or rude to be honest” he said sincerely making you laugh.

“Oh my god that was so cringe I love it” you said looking for another one.

“Don’t even try to make me pronounce that last one please” he warned you funny. You denied with your head.

“Okay I found another one listen: tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos. Try to translate it” you said because there were words you already taught him.

“Oh my god alright. Repeat it please?” You repeated it and he thought for a few seconds.

“Uh tu curvas y yo frenos?” He said confused. You giggled a little but applauded proudly.

“Yes! You're getting better Oscky” you said sweetly. “It was: you with so many corners and I have no brakes” you said, smiling funny.

“Oh like the curves of the body right?” You nodded at his questions. “Oh alright I get it! So is like double meaning”

“Exactly” you answered. “Alright last one: besar es el lenguaje del amor, te importaría comenzar una conversación conmigo?” You said blushing. Your subconscious chose this one without leaving you a warning.

“You said something with kiss right?” He asked and you nodded. He blushed too. You were like two teenagers blushing and giggling.

“I said: kissing it’s the language of love. Would you mind starting a conversation?” You explained.

“You wanna kiss me?” His words slipped through his lips.

“Maybe I do” your words slipped through your lips.

You were both so red. An awkward silence made its presence.

“Oscar, sorry to interrupt but Zac is calling us both. Hey y/n, you good darling?” Lando appeared out of nowhere so save yourselves from the worst silence situation you’ve ever been into. Lando hugged you kissing your cheek and you smiled at him. Oscar took his things ready to go.

“All good Land. Hope you have a good reunion. See you after the practices!” You said waving to him. And Oscar gave you a cheeky smile.

Holy shit you’re fucked.