@shitshowblog prompt request #1 - "I like your last name. Can I have it?"
Summary: Franco is notorious for his flirting abilities, but maybe he's met someone who can play him at his own game.
Norris!reader (bc Lando and Franco seemed to be good friends last year and I think this would be a fun pair)
Word count: 903
Lando was the least surprised person to find his little sister was interested in the Williams driver who subbed in for Logan. The two had crossed paths last year a couple times but it never seemed to get anywhere as more than passing flirty banter than disappeared over the winter break and with him not returning as a driver, y/n wasn't sure what to do.
But then he got announced as Alpine's reserve driver.
Y/n returned this year more determined to get Franco's attention and keep it.
"Hey, Franco." Y/n greets as she passes by him in the paddock making his head whip around upon hearing her voice.
"Hermosa, I-where are you going?" Franco asks expecting her to stop for conversation. But y/n has a plan and it doesn't involve making his life easy.
Y/n slows her steps smiling as she turns to find Franco moving to catch up with her.
"I was going to grab something to eat at McLaren." Y/n explains as if she's none the wiser. "Unless you know something better to eat?"
"I could suggest one or two things." Franco smirks dragging his gaze up and down y/n's body which almost makes her stutter but she manages to maintain composure and maintain the energy he maintains with ease. "I think my ideas would fill you up very well actually."
"That's a very bold statement. You should really act on it rather than saying it." Y/n states watching his eyes widen for a moment.
"Come eat lunch with me. I will make sure you are well fed." Franco states making y/n internally celebrate that her mission is so far a success.
-
It didn't take long for Lando to realise his sister wasn't going to be spending more than the journey to the track with him so he just let her get on with it because he actually likes Franco and while he doesn't want to think about what the two might've got up to last night after being caught leaving together.
"Try this." Franco demands holding his fork out with some Korean BBQ chicken on it that he took from the Alpine catering which seems to be providing better than McLaren today. Y/n flinches away from the suddenness of the fork in her face and she hardly has a chance to process what he's trying to feed her before he speaks again. "You did not complain at what I was putting in your mouth last night you can trust me."
"I prefer what you were doing with your mouth last night too." Y/n comments earning a smirk before she leans towards the chicken and finally accepts the bite to try earning a smile while Franco shifts over and kisses her cheek while she chews and nods in defeat of the fact that his food is much better than what she'd been offered. "Can I have some more?"
"Of course, hermosa." Franco laughs nudging his plate towards her for her to have some more.
-
Franco visiting the Norris family home since y/n still lives under her parents roof is already beginning to be more and more of a norm, but Lando hadn't been home during one of his visits despite being a witness to them in the paddock.
"You two are all over each other. Please." Lando groans as he walks out into the garden where the two are "sunbathing" but really are a couple movements away from having sex in the garden with how far their tongues are into each other's throats.
Apparently that was all he came to say so presumably he'd looked out the window and felt the need to speak up, because he disappears back inside.
"I told you we should've gone to your place with Lando coming to visit." Y/n states while Franco hums, his mind very much elsewhere and the lust clouding his eyes is definitely not going to be easy to clear so she has to say something to snap him out of. "You know I like your last name."
"Thank you, mi amor." Franco mumbles slowly coming down from his thoughts while y/n smiles a little.
"Can I have it?"
"Of course you-my name? You want my-oh-OH you are very good." Franco laughs then pausing. "Do you really want my name?"
Y/n had really just stolen the pick up line and put it to use on the Argentine. But in truth neither had actually discussed their long term future, they've sort of been caught up in living in the moment that they just didn't think about the future much.
"I...I mean it would be quite nice to think we'll last that long together." Y/n mumbles earning a grin before she is almost head butted in an excited kiss.
"Amor, you leave it with me I will make sure you get my name and anything else you'd like." Franco smirks then biting his lip for a moment. "If your brother does not want to know what we get up to, I will get us a hotel to have fun in."
"W-Wait, leave it with you? What does that mean?" Y/n questions realising she might've just encouraged a very early engagement.
"Do not worry about a thing mi amor." Franco assures her then muting her second attempt to question him with another kiss. "Let's go find a hotel."
hello twin im here to request a kimi fic ❤️🩹 naw jkjk pls im sorry i didnt mean it. Im a diehard Franco fan and i feel like theres a shortage of fics for him!! (aye and hes been insane this season!!) we all know he’s a little bit of a flirt so whay about like..
Franco Colapinto/shy reader ?
maybe reader is a sports photographer and he’s always trynna flirt, reader is like ??, wtf get out my shot 💔
no pressure ofc 🙏 ik he’s not in like your top top fav drivers but i thought i would request anyways, im really really sorry if you’ve already done something similar to this 🥲
Focus on Me
Franco Colapinto x Photographer!reader
Synopsis: Franco keeps flirting with the shy photographer who keeps pretending she’s just “doing her job,” until it becomes obvious he’s only driving well because she’s watching him.
Moonlight Radio: jeeez, u had me scared there for a second 😅, I saw the notification and it said “Kimi” and I was like someone didn’t do their homework.. jkjk 😂 and there is a shortage of Franco fics, so here you go my friend, I hope u like this! 🫶🏻
You’d worked dozens of race weekends, but none of them had ever felt like this - like your pulse was synced to one driver’s laugh, like your camera lens kept finding the same pair of blue eyes even when you swore you were aiming somewhere else.
Franco Colapinto had a talent for being in your way.
And he did it on purpose.
You were sure of it the first time he caught you in the paddock that morning, stepping directly into your shot with a grin that could power the entire grid.
“Careful,” he said, leaning just a little too close as you lowered your camera. “If you take too many photos of me, people will think you’re obsessed.”
Your cheeks warmed instantly. “I’m… working.”
“Ah,” he nodded, pretending to be serious. “So you have to photograph me. That’s even better.”
You ducked your head, pretending to check your settings, but he didn’t move. He stayed right there, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels like he had all the time in the world.
“Want a proper one?” he asked. “I can pose.”
“No posing,” you mumbled. “Candid only.”
He lit up. “Then you’ll have to catch me naturally. Which means you’ll have to keep watching me.”
You nearly dropped your camera.
—
Later - Pit Lane
You were crouched beside the garage, capturing mechanics working, when a shadow fell over you. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“You’re going to hurt your knees like that,” Franco said, crouching beside you. “Here, I’ll join you.”
“You don’t need to—”
But he was already there, shoulder brushing yours, close enough that you could smell his cologne - clean, warm, a little sweet.
“You’re very quiet today,” he murmured.
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not with me.”
Your breath caught. He said it like a fact, not a compliment, not a tease - just something he’d noticed. Something he’d memorised.
You lifted your camera to hide your face, but he gently nudged it down with one finger.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t hide.”
You froze.
He smiled, softer than before. “I like seeing your face.”
Your heart did a somersault so violent it should’ve required a medical flag.
—
Qualifying - Behind the Fence
You were shooting through the gaps when Franco walked past, helmet in hand. He spotted you instantly - he always did - and tapped the fence with his knuckles.
“For luck,” he said.
You blinked. “What?”
“You’re my lucky charm,” he shrugged. “Haven’t you noticed? I drive better when you’re watching.”
“That’s not-”
“Prove me wrong,” he grinned. “Look away.”
You didn’t.
He laughed, triumphant, and jogged off toward the car.
—
After Quali - The Photo
He finished P2, and you were waiting outside the garage when he came out, hair messy, suit half unzipped, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. He spotted you and immediately beelined over.
“Did you get good ones?”
“I think so.”
“Show me?”
You hesitated - you never showed drivers your raw shots - but he was already leaning in, head beside yours, shoulder pressed to your arm as he looked at the screen.
“That one,” he said, pointing. “I like that.”
“It’s a bit blurry.”
“I still like it.”
“Why?”
He looked at you, not the photo.
“Because you took it.”
Your breath stuttered.
He noticed.
He always noticed.
—
Evening - The Paddock Walk
You were packing your gear when Franco appeared again, hands behind his back like he was hiding something.
“You’re done for the day?” he asked.
“Almost.”
“Good. Walk with me.”
You blinked. “Why?”
“Because I asked nicely,” he grinned. “And because I have something for you.”
You followed him down a quieter path behind the hospitality units. When he finally stopped, he revealed what he’d been hiding - a small lanyard with a laminated card.
Your name.
Your photo.
And underneath it, in bold letters:
GUEST OF FRANCO COLAPTINO
You stared. “Franco… I’m not-”
“You are,” he said simply. “You’re my friend.”
Your chest tightened. “Why would you do this?”
He stepped closer, voice dropping.
“Because I want you around. Because I like when you’re near me. Because you make me nervous in a good way.”
You swallowed hard. “I’m… not good at this.”
“I know,” he said gently. “That’s why I’m going slow.”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear - barely touching you, giving you every chance to pull away.
You didn’t.
His smile softened. “See? You’re not as shy with me as you think.”
“I am,” you whispered.
“Then I’ll talk enough for both of us.”
You laughed - quiet, but real - and he lit up like you’d given him a trophy.
“Can I take a photo of you?” he asked suddenly.
You blinked. “Me?”
“Yes. Fair trade.”
You hesitated, but he lifted your camera with surprising care, adjusting the strap so it didn’t pull your hair.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
You did.
The shutter clicked.
He lowered the camera, eyes warm. “That one’s my favourite.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
“I don’t need to.”
Your cheeks burned.
He stepped closer, close enough that you felt the warmth of him, close enough that your breath caught again.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he murmured. “Not as a driver. Not as a photographer. Just… me and you.”
Your voice barely worked. “Okay.”
His grin was instant, bright, boyish, victorious.
“Knew you’d say yes.”
“You did not.”
“I absolutely did.”
He offered his hand - not grabbing, not pulling, just offering.
You took it.
And he squeezed, gentle and sure.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all season. Let me finally succeed.”
Quick reminder for the girlies Lando is HUMAN and can hang with any girl he wants it’s never that serious 🧡 ( feel like we have this conversation every 6 months fr)
Really lovely to see Isack standing up for Jack and highlighting the importance of rookies actually being given a real chance to find their feet in F1 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
via: RN365 | Isack Hadjar defends Jack Doohan: 'I didn't have a gun to my head'
Summary: your first year in the paddock was overwhelming and not just because you were brushing shoulders with elite motorsport athletes or because your best friend was now a formula one driver. No. you were caught in a storm between two rookies – your best friend and his rival.
Warnings: 18+, smut, orgasm denial, no mention of condom
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: This was requested by 🌘 (thank you!!)
You could never tell him. He wouldn’t understand. At least that’s what you told yourself. You and Kimi had been best friends since you were kids. Inseparable since the age of four. You were the first person he called when he got the news he had a seat in Formula One. You were there on his first day in the paddock, completely lost and out of your depths, hands shaking as the likes of Max Verstappen brushed shoulders with you.
All it took was one smile. That was it. And for an entire year you had been completely and utterly under the control of him.
The young rookies often hung out together, whether it was playing football behind the motorhomes, sneaking off and eating lunch, their own separate group chat, away from the other drivers.
Franco was cheeky. A flirt. You hadn’t thought much of it, he would pretty much flirt with his own shadow if he could. He didn’t exactly blend into the background, he was confident, funny, overly friendly. But there was something different now. You could feel it.
His eyes would linger across you, scanning your body from head to toe. The way he would almost race Kimi to sit next to you at lunch. He would wink at you after he would speak. You thought it was just Franco being Franco. Except his gaze would linger longer, his touch got closer, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt, when no one was looking. You could practically feel him undressing you with his eyes.
You slipped out of the paddock during one of Kimi’s interviews during media day. He was busy speaking to the press about his recent podium, a story you both treasured now, seeing your best friend standing up on the podium next to Max and George. You slipped past some Mercedes personnel, mouthing to Toto that you were going to grab some air. He nodded, and you entered the evening air. You could feel him before you could see him. His undeniable presence surrounding you, wrapping you up like barbed wire.
“Everything okay?” Franco asked, his voice gentle, accent thick. His hair was tucked into a cap, you could smell the menthol chewing gum on his breath.
“Yeah,” you whispered, heart pounding. “Just got a little hot in there.”
You smiled at him, soft around the edges. But inside you were burning. His eyes never left you. You could feel the heat rising up the back of your neck.
He stepped closer, you backed up, your lower back now resting against the cold metal railing.
“Tell me you feel it too.” He whispered.
“What?” Your breath caught in your throat.
Franco stood closer again, he towered over you slightly. The low light from the streetlamp above him lingered across his facial features. “Tell me that every time you look at me, you don’t want to fuck me.”
You hadn’t even realised you were fully pressed against the railing until you stepped back, misjudging the drop behind you. Your body lurched, buckling for a short moment, before his hands caught you firmly at the waist. The shock of it sent goosebumps skimming across your arms.
You looked up at him, his hands still firm around your waist. Your heart hammered against your ribs, loud enough, you were certain, from him to hear it too.
“I feel it too.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.
“Everything okay?” Kimi’s voice cut in from your side. The two of you broke apart instantly, standing straighter, your fingers fussing with the creases of your t-shirt.
“Yeah, mate.” Franco said quickly, “she almost fell.”
You offered a shy smile, praying Kimi hadn’t noticed anything else.
He just nodded and motioned for you to head back inside. You started walking toward the media pen, but Franco’s hand closed gently around your wrist, tugging you back before you could take another step.
“Come to my hotel room tonight.” he whispered, winking as he loosened his grip on your wrist.
Your bottom lip quivered at the sound of his voice. All you could do was nod gently, knowing exactly what you were agreeing to.
You entered back into the media pen, sliding back into your seat next to Toto. Kimi shot you a smile, giving you a thumbs up as he spoke into the microphone. You smiled back, sheepish and completely aware of the situation you found yourself in.
You’d been pacing the hotel corridors for nearly 45 minutes until you finally found the courage to knock on his door. You’d already texted Kimi saying you were calling it an early night; just enough to keep him from checking in on you, with no clue you’d even slipped out of your room.
The hotel door clicked shut behind you. Franco’s eyes were dark, he reached out and grabbed your wrists, not as soft this time. His fingers digging into your skin, as he pulled you closer to him. He started to kiss you softly, walking backwards toward the bed, his grip still tight around you.
You could feel your pulse racing. Your hands wandered to his hips, pushing your body closer to his as he claimed your lips. As you reached the edge of the bed, he pushed you down by your wrists. “Take your clothes off.”
You nodded as you pulled your top over your head, shimming off your jeans as you sat perched on the ends of the sheets. The only thing left was your lace thong, you had purposefully worn for him. He stripped off too, as he chucked the last piece of clothing in a pool on the floor, he towered over your body, forcing you to lay back onto the cold sheets of the hotel bed.
His lips traced along your jaw line, down your neck. He kneaded your breasts, his thumb brushing across your nipples as he kissed you again. Hungry, a man starved,
“Take them off.” He instructed, his fingers tugging at the side of your thong. You obeyed. The thong brushing your thighs as you pulled it off.
It didn’t take long before his fingers slid inside of you. His thumb circling your clit, you could feel his hips jerk forward toward you, as a soft moan escaped your lips. He worked you up fast, his fingers sliding inside of you with deliberate pace. Working you to the edge of your orgasm.
Your eyes were glassy, you grabbed the sheets as the coil in your stomach built up. But just as you were about to fall apart at the tips of his fingers, he pulled out.
“Franco–” you whispered, your body trembling.
“Not until I say so.” He smirked, kissing your temple.
Without warning, his cock thrusted inside you. Hard and deep as it dragged across your G-spot. His hips jerked against you, he wrapped his hand against your throat as the other dug into your hip, his finger nails leaving small crescent moons into your skin.
And just before you would reach your climax, he would stop. You clung for air, your voice a cry.
“Please, Franco–” you muttered, “I need you.”
He eased his hand off your throat, moving up toward your chin as he lifted it, your eyes meeting his. Your cheeks were stained with tears from the denial.
“You want me to make you come?” He whispered against your lips, denying you of another touch.
You nodded. Unable to find the words.
“Say it, use your words.” He smirked.
“Please Franco. I want you to make me come.”
His smirk finally reached his eyes. Like you finally uttered the words he needed you to hear.
He slid his cock back inside of you, hard and animalistic. He pressed down on your stomach with his free hand, the other lifting you up from your arse, making sure you felt every inch of him.
“Go on, come for me.” He growled, his pupils were now blown, completely lost inside of you.
You clenched around him, he let out a whimper, as his pace increased.
Your orgasm hit all at once. It felt like every nerve of your body was on fire. His hand closed over your mouth as you let out a scream so loud, you were sure the whole hotel floor could’ve heard you. Your hips jerked up toward him, his grip on your arse intensified, he left imprints where his fingers had been. He fucked you through your orgasm as he spilled inside of you.
The both of you were completely wrecked. Slick was running down your thighs as you could still feel the high of your orgasm hitting. He held you tight as you both leaned back into the bed.
He leant in and kissed your temple gently. A complete 180 on how he had just treated you. You breathed into his chest, your arm grazing his bicep as you both panted. Still hot and sweaty.
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes glistening in the low lamp light.
“You’re my good girl now.” He murmured.
“Yours?” You replied, lifting your head slightly to reach his gaze.
