thelvsickgirlxx - Tumblr blog

thelvsickgirlxx · 4 days ago

Text

Sisisisisi

OBRA DE ARTE REINA 😭🤩

trátame suavemente. — franco colapinto x gf!reader

no quiero soñar mil veces las mismas cosas / ni contemplarlas sabiamente / quiero que me trates suavemente.

summary: reuniting after spending months apart and having recently recovered from a fight feels bittersweet. however, you have to push all your feelings aside at the end of the weekend to treat your boyfriend softly.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: established relationship, hispanic!reader, sentences in spanish, bit of angst, long distance relationship mention, takes place after the são paulo gp, nsfw (18+ mdni), p in v, bathroom sex, oral (m!receiving), lowk edging, whiny!franco, sub!franco if you squint, unprotected sex (get on your pills or shots or SOMETHING don’t raw it), creampie, soft sex and ambiance overall.

A/N: based on this request ! and yess, franco with soda stereo again hehe. please listen to the el último concierto (remastered) version of this song when reading, it's a whole different vibe than the og !! mil besitos as always and feedback is appreciated

now playing... trátame suavemente by soda stereo

“Vení.”

Come here. Franco’s voice echoed the minute he noticed your hesitant footsteps filling up the once empty silence.

You leaned against the bathroom door frame, head leaned to the side. The lights were dimmed— proper of a fancy hotel, where else would you be able to adjust the lighting anyway?— He soaked in the steamy water clouded with the relaxing bath salts, trying to find some relief in what had been his worst weekend yet. Both on and off the track.

“Hi.” You greeted softly with a tiny wave of your hand before it retreated back to its post across your chest.

“Sabés que no muerdo a menos que me lo pidas.” He sat up, back straightening. Humor was a natural addition to his words, even when he was at his lowest. It never seemed to impress you, and it was something you could sometimes hate.

The scene was still vivid and bright behind your eyelids. Counting down the days for him to come home, getting the call he was in fact going to take longer— because he’d made it. He’d made it to Formula One. Your heart sped up when reliving the memory, unaware of how difficult it was going to be from then on.

Your relationship wasn’t exactly public, something you’d chosen yourself in case occasions like these arose. Then you’ve come to realize it gave him a certain freedom, the one that allowed him to flirt openly with interviewers and not face repercussions to his public image.

Behind closed doors, it was another story.

You tried. With your whole chest, you tried to not complain to him directly. It was his personality, the way he’d pulled you in from day one. One day, you just couldn’t. His absence was palpable, and after a week or so without any communication he’d texted to sulk about his mediocre results during the Mexican Grand Prix, having the fast lap taken away from him.

You couldn’t hold it in. From the fact he was inconsistent in the relationship that had you suffering through a rollercoaster of emotions, to his absence digitally and the lack of interest in your doings. He’d barely have the time to check in with you, not about you.

The calls were frantic, tears were shed, and he promised to be more present. The fight was left in a stalemate, and you cursed yourself when the flight reminder popped on your notifications. You couldn’t help but wait another week to see him?

The same word with four letters that broke the silence moments ago was texted by him that same day, and you couldn’t hold a grudge even if you wanted to. You were never truly mad at him, you just missed him. So much so it ached in your bones, both set your heart ablaze and cooled it at the same time.

Painful could only begin to describe it.

Your worries were pushed away once you clarified everything, after the Saturday session was canceled and all you had on your shared agenda was cuddle up in the hotel room, quiet promises being made. After all the grief he had to withstand in the midst of this storm— literally— the last thing in your priorities was to stay on your own petty agenda.

At his request to be closer, you sat at the closed lid of the toilet, unable to take your eyes off of him.

“You’re too far away.” His insistence only furthered, eliciting a quiet laugh out of your lips. Without further ado, you stood up, stripping off the simple lounging set and folding it aside before sinking opposite to him on the warm water, growing cold with each passing moment now that the faucet was off.

“What is it?” You blinked, head leaned to the side. Franco looked at you profoundly, and you wondered if he had something he was trying to figure out about you.

“I missed you so much.”

The words hung in the steamy air while you processed them, your bottom lip puckering out while a mixture of emotions washed over you. A part of you didn’t believe him, while the other ached for those words, even if it wasn’t the first time he said them during the weekend.

“Really?” You wondered out loud, not caring that the water could spill out of the tub while you carefully moved to rest by his side, an arm wrapped around you.

“Yeah.” He insisted, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m exhausted now. This was supposed to be such a good weekend… by the red flag all I wanted to do was lay my head on your tits for hours.”

“Baboso,” You splashed him with water, both of your laughs echoing in the room, the acoustics amplifying the sound.

“I missed you too, by the way.” You spoke up after a while of silence, the shapeless shapes he drew on your skin with his index finger lulling your heart to a lower rate.

“Por si no era obvio.” You added soon after, your laugh making your heart skip a beat. You didn’t feel like your claims from just a week and a few days ago were irrational, and you stood by them. He also did, acknowledging his lack of care.

But you were there, by his side. When he most needed it. And you wouldn’t change that for anything in the entire world.

Instead of getting an answer with words, you felt his fingers tenderly cupping your chin, guiding your gaze to his in order to receive his lips in yours warmly.

Careful and complex. His lips moved with calculation, and a sigh inevitably left yours. This is what your body ached, what made the desperately cold layer dissolve off your heart and set it fully ablaze under his careful affections.

You moved to straddle his hips, arms wrapped around his neck. You could’ve sworn you heard a whine while he straightened up, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life.

Desperate and desirable. The kiss transitioned to match the steam in the room, his hands unable to find a place to stay put in, instead just roaming the soaked inches of skin he could get a hold off.

“Me hizo muchísima falta tenerte así,” Franco let out in a pant, eager fingertips delving into the plush skin of your ass. Now it was your turn to answer with an action, leaning in to kiss down his neck, carefully placing affections on the prominent scar knowing it made him squirm.

“Ay amor…” He let out a groan, unable to resist when your chest pressed against his torso.

“¿Qué pasa?” You questioned quietly, fluttering your lashes up at him. You took his physical queues and understood them almost immediately. He couldn’t help but lean into his touch, shaky breath leaving his lips with each grazing of your fingers.

You noticed how he swallowed hard, just shaking his head to signify nothing was going on— nothing was inherently wrong.

“Sit up here.” You instructed quietly, patting the tiled edge before the tub began, seemingly used for people to sit and dry themselves. This once, you two were definitely not going to use it for that.

He followed the command obediently, watchful eyes following your movements while you positioned yourself between his legs.

“You’ve had such a rough week…” Your voice was hypnotizing, in the same way your hand stroking his length was. “Let me take care of you, mkay?”

The words he planned on letting out found themselves choked back when you deposited a kiss on the skin edging between his inner and outer thigh. He melted into his spot almost literally, manspreading to give you more access to leave the warm affections that brought goosebumps to his skin.

You batted your eyelashes innocently up at him while your flat tongue licked the underside of his hard cock, green eyes hyper-focused on your lips wrapping on the flushed tip.

“Fuck…” He managed to groan out, his right hand reaching to clutch your hair while the other held onto the ceramic, preparing himself for what he’d been desiring for what felt to be years, when in fact it had only been a short couple months.

You knew how to treat him, how to push his buttons just right without exceeding into a rougher context. All you wanted was for him to relax, at least for now. That didn’t mean you didn’t put in the effort, your hand encompassed what your mouth couldn’t take even when it almost hit the back of your throat.

“Que linda te ves con la boquita llena,” He caressed your cheek tenderly while you took a breather, his hips jerking upwards ever so slightly to thrust into your hand.

“Hm just for you,” You winked in agreement to the compliment before wrapping your lips around the now leaking tip, humming at the taste of the precum on your tongue and inevitably down your throat.

“Así, así,” Franco whined the minute you started bobbing your head up and down his length with precision and speed. He threw his head back, allowing the moans to leave his mouth freely, mixing in a dangerous cocktail with his heavy breaths.

The moment was perfect. You knew Franco was getting lost in it, nearing the edge with each desperate jerk of his hips matching up to your nose grazing his lower abdomen. He could still feel the warm water, but nothing could compare with the sensation of your throat.

Unless…

“Pará, pará,” He breathed out, his tone high pitched, containing himself into not bursting out the seams right then and there.

“¿Qué pasó mi rey? Did I do something wrong?” You pulled away visibly concerned, straightening up still on your knees.

His response was a weak shake of his head, chest rising up and down. He still rested his back against the tiled wall, regaining his composure. Your eyes traced every inch of his skin, every mole and freckle, subconsciously licking your lips. His laugh snapped you out of your shamelessly perverted ravaging, and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Te amo tanto.” He muttered, leaning in to close the gap between your mouths halfway. Even if seconds ago you were wondering why on earth he would edge himself, the kiss told you everything you needed, adding to the support his hands gave you to get on your feet and sit on his lap.

His lips parted from yours only to give soft kisses to your cheek and jaw, traveling the marvelous road down your neck. Your moans were soft, beginning to ease into it when a curious hand parted your legs open.

“Fran…” You breathed you, your hand reaching to caress the hair falling near his nape; it was longer than usual, he needed a trim— you noted mentally, reminding to comment on it later.

“Let me feel you,” He whispered against your skin, the action forming goosebumps on the area. “Estás tan mojadita; porfa.”

He didn’t need to beg twice, your back already pulled away from his chest, shifting around in his lap and raising your hips a little in order to sink down his length, your sighs of relief harmonizing.

“I missed this so much,” You noticed you had rendered him almost incoherent from the way he could barely formulate the words between heavy breaths and moans, a battle to keep his eyes open to watch your figure as you bounced on his hard cock.

“Ay ese culito…” He groaned, the sound of a smack bouncing on the walls before it remixed with your yelp, but it only encouraged to move faster, wanting to give him the show he deserved.

Franco didn’t allow himself to get lost in the mesmerizing movement of your body, instead pulling you back to be as close to him as humanly possible, his hand cupping your chin to almost drag your face near his.

The kiss was sloppy from his part, the grinding of your hips was sharp in comparison, and he couldn’t focus. Your wet skin against his, the noises you started making the moment he started toying with that sweet spot.

“Amor,” He couldn’t help but call your attention, ripping his lips off of yours in order to speak. You noticed the way his brows furrowed— and how could you not? he was always so expressive— his bottom lip puckering out while he tried to make out the following words.

But he didn’t need to.

“Yes,” You nodded, feeling your own orgasm approach quickly. From the moment you stripped and dipped in the water you knew you weren’t going to last long in whatever activity you might engage, and you were okay with that.

“¿Si?” Franco whined, his lashes fluttering while his eyes fell shut before he could hide his face in the crook of his neck.

“Si. Cum inside.” You confirmed, feeling his lips press against your shoulder blade before the conjoined noises filled up the room, the hand that occupied the space between your legs failing in its constant rhythm, while the other dug into the doughy merge your hips and upper thighs conformed.

You let your eyes close while the wave of pleasure washed over you, chests rising up and down rhythmically. It felt like you had just floated down from the sky, settling down into the reality of the position— a bit insane, to say the least— you found yourselves in, guided by the pure lust and yearning of each other after the sudden separation.

“All good over there?” You laughed softly, receiving a small ‘eh’ in a high pitched tone. It took Franco another moment before he raised his face, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your jaw before his arms wrapped around your midriff and into a tight hug.

“Con vos? Todo perfecto.”

733 notes · View notes