#fuck it the Argentinian got me

[shakemelikeasnowglobe]

Okay franco won me over by telling his fans to buy unofficial merch because official merch is too expensive

This is the thing about f1 that pisses me off the most and it's how expensive everything is, okay pay a couple thousands for the whole experience to go and watch a race maybe meet the drivers I can understand but the cost of merch is so criminal it's ridiculous.

Look where I live (small touristic town) i found 3 stores who sell f1 official merch, like real official merch

A oficial shirt(only mclaren, mercedes ferrari or redbull by the way) would be my salary of the month, no joke they sell for a thousand my salary is a thousand eight hundred.

Just a cap can cost 500 and this is like the cheapest option

I am not afraid to admit I own multiple caps who costed me like 43 or less or shirts who costed 60 at most

So yeah listen to Comrade Franco and buy them unofficial merch on sites (by the way buy it on Mercado Libre they sponsor the boy and have a lot of unofficial stuff there)

[endofbeginings]

El muchacho de los arreos (The herding youngster) - Cesáreo Bernaldo de Quirós, 1927.

[popperazzi]

last week in puerto vallarta

[detective-piplup]

I need you to know that every so often I misread your username as "deactivated-piplup" and I sit there and wonder if we pressured you too harshly to acknowledge your South American roots

PFFFFT. gone… lost the the Argentinian allegations

[ratatatastic]

i think its so funny to not be told anything about athletes and then freaking out when you find out where theyre from

[bunny-jpeg]

the dnf club (vol. 2)

franco colapinto

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, rough sex, frustration, rough sex, modified doggy style, semi-public/closet sex, quiet sex

a/n: this is a little series of one shot fics because these poor guys all got dnfs at the brazil gp! this one in particular was inspired by an ask i got in my inbox after the gp! so thank you lovely anon! <3

carlos edition // alex edition // lance edition // nico edition

franco knew that his seat was still hanging in the balance. it felt like formula one was going through drivers faster than anything. one wrong move and they were out, replaced with another hopeful, who may or may not yield the same results.

it left the argentinian in a state of anxiety. after talks with the team you came over to him with a frown on your face. you weren't upset that he had to sit out of the race. but rather upset that he was upset. and when you collided into him and wrapped your arms around him tightly.

he simply held onto you a little tighter.

you ended up in the supply closet close to the williams garage. you ended up up against a wall of shelves with your skirt pushed up to expose the roundness of your ass.

"franco." you swallowed as you heard the unzip of his uniform. you couldn't see him, but you could only imagine the look on his face. you knew he was riled up, beyond upset at his weekend.

you believed he was a future champion, a hopefully for 2025. you knew he beat himself up a little more than more established drivers. he was still a small fish in a big pond. any dnfs could hinder a promise of a career.

"please." he said, "let me." his hand grazed the roundness of your ass before he took your panties and pulled them down to your ankles, "nothing more i need right now than you, my love." he then kissed the center of your clothed back.

you were in a williams t-shirt tucked into your skirt, not to mention the bracelet you made from plastic beads that spelled out his name. you looked like a real fan girl, and in fairness, you were franco's number one fan. (on top of being his girlfriend).

he admired your backside, as much as he would've loved to get you full undressed and admire your naked beauty. you two had to be quick. he could admire you when you got back to the hotel room.

"you're so beautiful." he admired as he ran a hand up the side of your thigh, "i want you so badly. i always want you." he shuddered with want as he sank his cock into you with heated affection. fucking with his driver's suit still on was a bit of a challenge as his fireproofs stuck to his skin as he got hotter.

you replied, "you always have me, franco." you quickly covered your mouth with your hand as to not be too loud. you didn't want the team to find your boyfriend's cock inside of you.

franco felt better when he started to move against you. with the thump of his chest as he battered his cock against your sweet core. he pressed his cheek up against your back as he moved your foot up against a lower shelf to get the best angle of your sticky sweet cunt. he panted heavily against your clothed back as he continued to rut against you.

"you'll win it next time, my love." you said with a bit of strain in your voice as he moved up against you. you felt a swirl of hear in your head as he moved up against you. you loved the feeling and the risk of being caught only added a rush to your system.

he kissed your back before he rested his cheek against your once more, he had you positioned in a way that allowed him to sink his cock into the deepest parts of you. he could feel your racing heartbeat against his back and it made his cock twitch. he needed you, he wanted you, every way he could have you. he was still wound up from the dnf, but being with you alleviated a bit of the emotional pain.

how could he upset when he had his lovely girlfriend's pussy to fuck?

you were trying to hold onto the shelves for some sort of leverage, you felt the hammering in your chest as the sounds of sex filled the small space. you felt heated, your hair stuck to places you didn't want it to. you covered your mouth once more to keep from being too loud. the waves of heat across your skin as the two of you fucked like rabbits in a supply closet.

you squeaked a little when you heard people walking by. their voiced muffled by the door, and you squeezed your eyes shut to keep yourself quiet. franco only fucked you harder, bouncing you up against his cock with a heated want. you felt the pleasure flood your brain and when the people on the other side of the door were further away, a stray moan left your lips.

franco groaned a little bit against your back, "when we get back to the hotel room." he whispered, "i want you screaming with how good i make you feel." and that only made you wetter.

you nodded and held onto the metal shelves a little tighter. you could feel something made of plastic dig into your skin. but there was little time to worry about that. franco decorated your neck with kisses, when his lips grazed the back of your neck you felt your nipples grow hard, they rubbed up against your bra which only fueled your pleasure.

while this wasn't the ideal place to fuck, it was something exciting. which only spurred you both on. franco's pace became brutal as he whispered in your ear, "all mine." he said, "you know that. no one else would let me take out all the anger out on them. all my frustration. that's why you're my number one. i love you more than anything." he wrapped his arms around your middle and bounced you onto his cock, "only you."

a few things clattered around on the shelves and you let out a moan, you almost made you lip bleed as you bit down on it as to not be painfully loud. even though there was more commotion outside, you didn't want to draw attention to your sexual escapade in the supply closet.

you prayed that no one needed an extra rag or a spare wrench while franco's cock was buried into you. at least your lover had the decency to lock the door. allowing a bit more privacy. regardless of it all, you felt the immense pleasure in your core. you felt the heat between you two.

your noises were muffled, and your breathing got heavier. franco's pace staggered and the two of you were rutting against one another with a frantic need for climax. you could find soft intimacy somewhere where curious eyes won't listen in.

his strong arms around you as he thrusted up into you made you feel protected. you felt the swim of pleasure in your core as the two of you continued to move against one another. it was a heated euphoria that soon found its climax.

you clamped a hand over your mouth once more and squeezed your eyes shut, your entire body tensed and you almost lost your balance as you came around his cock. franco could make out you saying his name which only encouraged him to keep fucking you.

his cock was slick with your wetness, sticky to the touch as it dripped down to the base of his cock. he knew the front of his driver's suit was a mess. he'd need to change before he got shoved in front of the press. with a few more heavy strokes he finished inside of you. his jaw tense as he tried to keep himself quiet from the gut punch of pleasure.

you rested further against the shelves and franco against your back. it wasn't long before he pulled out and tucked himself back into his suit. with your panties back on and your skirt straightened out. you turned to your lover and kissed him deeply on the lips.

"all better?" you asked softly.

he held you by the hips, his smiled bright as he said, "of course, you make everything better, my love." then kissed you once more. the frustration had melted off of his skin. he felt almost renewed, that the next race would be better.

you two kissed a little more before you both slinked out of the closet, thankful not to be caught. however franco would overhear later on about the smell in the supply closet. he grinned at the rim of his water bottle as he heard, "yeah, it smells like sex in that." <3

[interruptedtrance]

Sex toy (franco x reader x lando)

Smut; 18+

Contains: fleshlights, handcuffs, oral (f receiving)

you catch them using flashlights, on each other

masterlist

“don’t worry, franco, they said they wouldn’t be home for a while” lando mumbled, kissing franco’s neck.

“they said that a while ago” franco cries out desperately trying to move away from lando’s grip. “lando enough!” franco please, moving away, “i don’t want to be punished!” now holding lando an arms length away.

“come on fran, i can see you are excited and want me” lando says, moving franco back into him, so their hips are touching, “let’s enjoy a bit of alone time, they won’t be back for a while” he adds.

“promise me to stop as soon as they text us that they are on their way back?” franco asks, gently moving his head to connect his lips with lando’s adam's apple, slowly and gently nipping the skin, not enough to leave a mark and cause a scandal in the paddock.

lando sharply inhales “mhm” is all he manages to make out, before the argentinian is hastily moving him to sit on the sopha and straddling his lap. “i thought you were worried about us getting caught” lando teases, moving his hand under franco’s shirt to pull it off him in one swift move.

“shut up” franco breathes out, “please take your shirt off and kiss me” he cries out slowly but roughly grinding against the brits thigh, making lando chuckle while taking his shirt off. lovingly looking into franco's eyes he traces his hands from the argentinians shoulders all the way to his ass, where he abruptly grabs it making his hips come to a halt. franco tries bringing their lips together but lando moves his head back.

“why don’t you strip off the rest of the clothing while i get our toys?” the brit asks in a suggestive manner, in a second the argentine is off him and ripping his shorts off while plopping down onto the sofa next to him, slowly moving his palm to his now fully erect cock.

“what are you waiting for?” franco answers teasingly, “go get them” he spits the words out more like a command then anything, making lando get up and swiftly move to the bedroom to fetch their fleshlights and lube. while returning from the bedroom quicker than ever, he opens the lube bottle and squeezes a bit of it into both fleshlights, rapidly discarding it on the coffee table behind him and straightening himself out in front of franco.

“you ready?” he questions passing one fleshlight to the argentine, and dropping his underwear to his ankles.

“yeah” franco mumbles, gently but securely wrapping a hand around the brits waist pulling him in closer, where he gently kisses the tip of lando’s penis, making him rest his hands on the argentines shoulders, one hand clutching the toy harder, and his eyes rolling back.

when suddenly franco aligns lando’s cock with the hole of the fleshlight and in one swift move makes the toy take his entire length, making lando dig his nails into the soft skin of franco’s shoulders, and groan the argentines name out. “fuck, franco don’t move” lando cries out before the other even got a chance to move the toy away, “let me sit down, so i can also jerk you off” he whispers.

so the argentine complies, he lets the toy still on lando’s cock go, so that the brit can sit down to his left, and can sink franco’s cock into the soft silicone material of the fleshlight at a teasingly slow pace, “i wasn’t such a tease with you” the argentine groans out.

“i’ll take every chance i get” lando proudly exclaims with a smirk appearing on his lips.

“you bitch” franco exclaims, laughing and roughly moving the toy on lando’s cock, making the older man drop his head back onto the sofa cushions groaning in pleasure. the argentine firmly grabs the brits hand which is clasped around his fleshlight making lando get out of a trance and start moving the toy up and down the younger guy’s shaft. soon enough they are matching each other's pace and groans, occasionally moving their heads closer together so they can kiss.

what they didn’t hear is the keys jingling in the door, and you entering your shared apartment calling for them, but receiving no response. thinking they went out, you make your way to the bedroom, where you toss your bag on the armchair in the corner of the room. and then drag yourself to the vanity where you start taking off your jewelry when you suddenly hear a moan coming from the living room, as quietly as humanly possible you enter the living room where you see two of your lovers sitting on the sofa jerking each other off.

you wanted to yell, but before you could get the words out an idea struck, so you still quietly make your way over to the two and grab one hand of hair from each head, making the two abruptly stop, and look at you with fear in their eyes.

“lando made me do it!” franco practically yells, “i told him i wanted to wait for you, but he didn’t want to listen” your gaze now shifting onto lando.

lando attempted to speak, but you cut him off “there is no need to plea and cry now, i know you were the mastermind behind this whole thing”. loosening your hold against their hair, you motion, with your head, to lando to go grab a chair from the dining room and bring it back, while lando was gone you crouched down to franco’s level and asked him to go grab the handcuffs. he practically jumps up from the sofa, ripping his fleshlight off, setting it down on the coffee table and moving with a long stride to the bedroom.

“place the chair over there” you motion for lando to place the chair on the other side of the coffee table, “where is your fleshlight?” you ask in confusion, knowing he left to retrieve the chair with it still on.

“i threw it in the bin” he says shyly.

“good boy” you praise sincerely, “come sit in the chair” you suggest with a grin.

“no, please i will be good” the brit cries.

“lando, you had your chance” you state walking over to him, now looking him dead in the eye “now sit” you speak sternly with a smile appearing on your lips, lando only cries out as a protest, but a quick glance from you shuts him up and makes him sit in the chair.

“sorry it took so long, i couldn’t find them” franco spits out hurriedly handing the pair of handcuffs to you.

getting up on your toes, you kiss the corner of his mouth and praise him, instructing him to sit down on the sofa facing lando, so he does, while you move to lando, “arms to the back of the chair”, lando moves them with no protest, “good” you move to the back of the chair where you handcuff each arm to the back of the armrest so there is no way for him to jerk himself off. “are they too tight?” you question sincerely.

“no” he yelps out quietly. with a last kiss to his lips you move back to the sofa, and sit down next to franco.

looking franco up and down a few times, stopping when you catch his gaze, “how many times did each of you cum?” you ask, now slowly moving your hand to play with the short hairs on the end of francos head, your other hand resting on his thigh making him suck in a breath of air.

“we didn’t” he speaks softly, “i promise” he cries.

“alright, then you will have to make me cum once” you reveal, making the argentine smile, and grab you by your waist to move you to straddle his lap. “hold on, i didn't say you were completely innocent” you say gently making franco freeze all his movement.

“what?” he stammers, eyes widening in surprise, alongside lando’s mouth.

“yeah, you could have walked away from the situation” you state, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“but i-” franco attempts to speak, but lando cuts him off.

“i was persistent” he says, “i’m sorry” apologizing to both of you.

“still, franco could have walked away” you tell lando, “you have a mind of your own, don't you?” provocatively you question the argentine.

“i do” he whispers, gently tracing shapes into your lower back.

moving your head down you catch his lips with yours, gently guiding them into a makeout session, once you pull away to catch your breath you look franco in the eye and lay out his punishment, he has to make you cum using his mouth.

“understood?” you ask.

“yes” franco mewls out, making lando groan out in frustration.

turning your attention away from franco to lando now, you give him a look and ask if the gag is needed, to which he responds no, so you turn your attention back onto franco, “take my dress off” you state, there is no need telling franco twice, and he gently pulls it over your head, not daring to look at your breasts without permission, “good” you mumble the praise against his lips, where you feel him shudder. “please start” you gently whisper, which makes the brit cry out in protest, and the argentine slowly moves you to lay on the sofa with him between your legs.

he gives you one last glance, asking for permission, which you give by tangling your hand in his hair and lightly pushing down. understanding that he now has some control, franco attacks your clit with his mouth, moving his tongue in figure eights, and when you are wet enough teasing your entrance with his long fingers, entering one finger at a time always making sure to hit your your g spot to bring you over the edge as soon as possible, as to not prolong lando’s torture of having to watch you two while he stays silent and without any pleasure.

[s-awturn]

Natural Enemies || FC43

summary: maybe Franco and Y/N don't hate each other as much as they think.

cw: fights, some swearing, and obscenity.unprotected sex (don't be reckless kids, don't follow suit here), p in v, hair pulling, slapping and maybe reader!sub(?)

a/n: I wanted to write something this afternoon, but I didn't want anything too long. So here's a drabble with baby-Franco (I think he's a baby, people, judge me)

starring: Franco Colapinto x Brazilian!Reader

Only God and the saints in heaven knew how much she hated Franco Colapinto, and that went beyond him being Argentinian — well, everyone knew about the historical rivalry between Brazilians and Argentinians — Franco was insufferable beyond belief and seemed to love testing her limits.

She really hated him, even at that moment when his hips were slamming into hers with savagery and desire. Y/N hated him, but she still fucked him because one thing had nothing to do with the other.

“Porra Franco” (fuck Franco) Y/N moaned, feeling his cock hit all the right places inside her, she shouldn't be there, and she certainly shouldn't be fucking him without a condom, but fuck, she was senseless when she was with Franco, whether it was fighting or fucking. “Don't stop, don't stop, damn it”

He smirked, rolling Y/N’s denim skirt up her hips before landing a slap on her ass. “I won’t stop, muñequita, I won't stop” he growled, leaving another mark on the girl's buttocks.

She arched her back more, leaving her hips more up against Franco, she was lost in the sensations of his cock going in and out nonstop, the slaps on her ass and of his hand tangled in her hair.

“You don’t hate me that much, isn't it, ¿amorcito?” He scoffed, pulling her face down to kiss her, a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

Y/N brought one of her hands to the back of his neck, pulling his curls between her fingers, making him grunt. The wet sound of their bodies slamming together only made her even more excited and if Franco kept fucking her like he hated her (and he did), she would cum in seconds.

“I fucking hate you, idiota” She said, hearing his chuckle in her ear, she rolled her eyes when Franco released her hips and began circling her sensitive clit. “Porra sim, não para, Franco” (Fuck yes, don't stop, Franco) she begged, feeling her whole body tremble in an intense orgasm, the pilot moaned hoarsely as Y/N tightened around him, making him cum inside her, staining her soft walls with his sperm.

They both took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Franco pulled out of her slowly, grunting as he watched his cum leak from Y/N's folds.

“Eso es tan jodidamente hermoso, muñequita” (This is so fucking beautiful, baby doll) he said, pushing everything inside her again. “Don't let anything slip, you don't want anyone to know that I fucked you in the equipment room, do you?”

Y/N moaned softly as she felt the fingers “For the love of God, man, shut up and give me my panties back.”

Franco got ready, wiping the sweat from his forehead before stuffing her panties into the pocket of his overalls. “No, it’ll be my lucky charm today.”

He said and left the room, leaving a furious Y/N behind.

Damn, she fucking hated him!

[aliwritex]

franco thoughts 18+: franco x older mom!reader. 1.9k

an: there isn’t much about the actual older, mom reader but the kid is part of the plot. smut obv

You never thought your January could be spent in the sun by the pool. But there you were, in Buenos Aires tanning while you watched Franco play in the pool with your son and his nephews.

The Argentinian habits had Alex, your son, completely knocked down after the late dinner. He refused his night bottle and was passed out in your arms before Franco’s family was even done with the meal, he assured you could excuse yourself to put him to bed.

Franco joined you in the room after a while. Back in Europe he would usually wear sweats or at least a t-shirt to bed, but in the Argentinian summer all he had on were a ridiculously small pair of shorts. His body was already golden from the sun, having been there for a week or two before you and his hair was still wet from the shower he took after dinner.

He climbed on the bed, next to you and kissed you quickly, or tried to, but you held him close, shoving your tongue into his mouth. He was taken by surprise but didn’t stop you, diving deeper into your mesmerizing lips. Your hands dropped from his face to his bare chest, feeling the short hair under your palms as he flipped to hover you. His hand cupped your waist, meeting your bare skin, warm and soft from the lotion you applied moments before.

You groaned into his mouth when he squeezed, making him reluctantly pull away.

“Can’t, mi amor” he sighed, head dropping to your shoulder.

“No, no” you whined “Fran, you’re killing me”

“Killing you?”

“Yes! The wet hair and being shirtless all day and playing with the kids.” you whined again, kissing his neck.

“Those are all reasonable things to be doing on vacation” he teased

“Shut the fuck up” you pulled him to kiss you again, this time wrapping your bare legs around his hips.

“Amor,” he warned

“Bathroom?” you suggested, desperate to have him.

“God, you’re so desperate. What about Alex?”

“That’s why I’m saying bathroom, c’mon, I’ll be quiet.” you begged

“You’re never quiet.” he argued, flopping on the bed, next to you.

You sighed, knowing he also wanted to have you. “Love, Alex has been in the pool all day, he’s not waking up anytime soon, look.” you squeezed his cheeks and turned his face to look to his left where your son slept in his own bed, mouth open, drooling onto his pillow. You turned his face back to yours, your thumb slipping to play with his bottom lip “Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me”

“I did” his eyes met yours as he kissed your thumb, “so much”

“Then bend me over the fucking sink, you cunt” you whispered to his cheek before letting your teeth graze against his jaw in a teasing bite.

You got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom, sitting up on the sink as you waited for him. You heard him groan as he got up, dragging his feet across the room to rest against the bathroom door. He leaned against it, arms crossing over his bare chest.

“I thought you wanted to be bent over” he teased after seeing your legs spread on the counter.

You got down and made your way to him, uncrossing his arms just to rest your own hands on his chest “We can do anything you want, love”

“Yeah?” he teased, his hands slipping into your shorts, his palms against your ass.

You nodded, reaching up to kiss his plump lips. A moan slipped into his mouth when you felt his hands squeeze. You pulled him in and locked the door behind you, making him lean against it.

His hands lazily pushed your shorts down as your lips made their way around his neck, kissing and working the skin till he was throwing his head back. You could feel him growing between your bodies as your hands dragged down his chest, resting dangerously close to the waistline of his shorts but not doing anything.

“Vida” he called and you hummed against the skin of his collarbone “c’mon, stop teasing”

You looked up at him while you played with the band of his shorts, raising your brows in a teasing expression “Look who’s desperate now”

“Please” he sighed.

Franco couldn’t tell if you were putting him out of his misery or just making it worse when you got on your knees. You kissed his hip bones and the trail of hair that followed down into his shorts. You would love to tease him more, till he was begging for you but you were only neglecting yourself too. You just wanted him, his cock, his hands and his mouth, anything.

Your hand slipped inside his shorts, the other tugging it off. He was warm and heavy on your fingers, so hard and begging to release after weeks of not having you. You guided his tip to your tongue immediately, licking his slit and making him throw his head back. A curse fell out of his lips, the sound barely above a whisper.

You took your tongue lower, licking all the way from his balls to his tip. His hand met your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could see you take his tip. Your mouth felt warm and tight, your lips wrapping perfectly around his length, dragging back and forth against the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, vida” he groaned, his head hitting the door with a soft thud “feel so fucking good”

He pushed into your mouth and you let him, taking more and more of him till your lips met the base. You felt his tip in your throat, the feeling sending shivers through your body before you could even pull away. He smiled down at you, watching as you worked him with your hand. You took a second to admire him from that perspective before putting your mouth to work again.

You kept a slow pace as you moved your head on him. Your tongue working up and down his shaft and feeling his salty taste. Your other hand was working his balls between your fingers. His breath was shaky as you worked him.

“Amor, that’s enough” he sighed “I- I still wanna fuck you”

You pulled away from him and looked up, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. “You weren’t even that close, you could’ve taken more” you teased as you got up.

“Don’t wanna risk it.”

He kissed you, resting his hands on your waist as he walked you to the sink. You felt the cold counter touch your back and pulled away from him.

“You’re really gonna bend me over the sink, huh?”

He just buried his face in your neck, nodding as he kissed and liked down to your collarbone. You smiled and dove your hands into his hair, enjoying the way his mouth worked on your neck, pulling sighs and quiet moans from you.

“You said you’d be quiet” he teased “I haven’t even touched you yet”

“Then get to it”

He smiled and let his hand travel down into your underwear, his middle finger slipping between your lips. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth as his fingers pressed your clit. But he took them further, till they were pressing against your hole. He dragged the wetness all over your cunt, teasing before he pushed them in, so incredibly slowly.

Franco brought his lips back to yours as he fingered you, in an attempt to drown any noises that came out of your mouth. It was useless when he started curling them in, pressing against your sensitive walls. God, everything about that made you feel like a teenager again, making out with his fingers in you, trying not to make noise, balancing yourself on a bathroom counter.

“Fran,” you mumbled as you pulled away from the kiss, his teeth trapping your bottom lip, teasing, “please, need you.”

He let your lip go and slipped his fingers out of you, making you turn around to face the mirror “Gonna watch me fuck you, vida”

You nodded. Through the mirror you could see him take a good look of your ass, both of his palms spreading your cheeks. Your cunt was glistening for him, so ready. You groaned when his thumb ran up and down your slit to tease, involuntarily pushing back against him.

Franco reached for his cock, swiping his tip against your folds before lining up with your hole. You shivered in anticipation. When he finally pushed in you let your head drop, struggling to not let the moans slip through your lips.

“Fuck, missed this so bad” he whispered as he bottomed out. His body folded over yours to kiss at your shoulder, pulling the strap of your tank down as he did. “You okay?”

“Way better than okay. Fuck me, please”

Franco stood back up and you held yourself on your elbows to watch him through the mirror. He looked amazing, the tan making his scar more prominent and his curls falling to his face.

His pace was slow as he started, you could feel all his veins dragging against your walls. It was a couple of minutes before he finally built up to the pace you were hoping for.

You tried to keep your eyes on him because you did love to watch the faces he made. But each thrust of his made your head drop lower, till you were resting it on the sink. His movements were making your clit bump against the cold counter, and with your hard nipples pressed against it too while he fucked you, you were on the edge.

Franco was also close. He was trying hard to hold it back. But he not only had you wrapped around him and a beautiful view of your bouncing ass, he couldn’t shake the image of you on your knees off his mind.

“Vida, mierda, I’m sorry. I’m gonna cum” he practically whined as he pushed you back onto him a couple times before pulling out.

His cum painted your ass and your back, you felt it warm against your skin. Your head lifted from the stone to look in the mirror and see his face. His head was down, taking the view of your painted behind in but you could still see his furrowed brows and parted lips.

“Oh, fuck” he sighed when you reached back for a bit of his seed and took the finger into your mouth, humming in pleasure and you tasted him.

Franco dropped to his knees behind you as soon as he recovered. His hands speed your cheeks apart to lick a long stripe from your clit to your asshole. It took you by surprise, making you twitch and clench around nothing.

He kissed you all over before starting to suck at your lips, just to tease you. Your hand reached behind you to push his head down to your clit. He complied to your request and licked at your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

His palm came down on your ass in a slap when you let out a particularly loud moan. The sting made you tug on his hair, the chain reaction being a groan right to your sensitive skin. You felt your stomach tighten, legs threatening to give up as your orgasm creeped up on you.

“Fran, so close, love” you whined.

Franco hummed onto your clit, the nonchalant action throwing you over the edge. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to stop a loud moan but it was useless. Your legs weakened as you rode the waves of your high, your hips circling against his tongue.

“I told you you couldn’t be quiet.” he said with a kiss to the back of your thigh.

[ayrtonswnna]

hello there!

Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊

ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))

ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!

✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)

✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.

✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.

✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.

"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"

Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.

"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.

"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"

"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"

Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.

Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.

But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.

"Hello, everyone!"

God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.

Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.

"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"

Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?

"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."

"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"

Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.

"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.

"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"

Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.

If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.

"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."

Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.

"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)

"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"

"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)

Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.

"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.

"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)

"Sir, I know it—"

"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"

Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.

"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.

The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.

"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"

He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."

"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."

"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."

"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."

"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"

"You should have seen your face, baby!"

Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."

"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"

"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.

"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"

"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.

But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."

"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."

Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.

"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.

Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.

"You know what else I deserve?"

"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"

It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.

"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.

Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.

"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)

He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.

"Ready, kid?"

"No, but I'll do it anyways."

"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.

"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)

He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.

It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"

"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)

"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.

"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"

"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."

ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

[queenwille]

the audacity of @un-women to make so many posts about the women of Lebanon, but not a single one about the women of israel, or much less about the 13 hostages is a total crime.

as a Jewish woman with both an Israeli and Argentinian citizenships, two jewish communities who were seriously hurt by Hezbollah crimes, i am deeply outraged by this.

seems like being an international voice didn’t make you feel obligated to do some proper research before talking, so let me do it for you. unlike israeli women, no, not all of lebanon is under attack. there are very specific regions that the lebanese government (+military) lost it’s hold on to the terror group of hezbollah MANY YEARS ago. hezbollah completely rules the region and started an ongoing, unprovoked attack on israel on october 8th, 2023. long story short? the israeli and lebanese states aren’t at war at all, actually. the thing is that the lebanese government basically doesn’t mess with hezbollah, like at all either, so they’ve being bombing the israeli north completely unhinged, since october ‘23, until israel attacked back and now y’all are so worried that israel is being too aggressive as always. here’s a map of lebanon and it’s regions (strong green for hezbollah):

as you may see, all of the border with israel is hezbollah, so after the war in 2006, after a ceasefire was declared, useless unifil soldiers were stationed there as well. obviously it didn’t bother hezbollah from making bunkers literally everywhere, under civilian homes, mostly to hide the craziest amount of ammo you can think of, but also to infiltrate israel and hurt civilians. those are the targets, idk why they’d live over it.

and as to the my jewish-argentinian community? it might have been over 30 years since the terror attacks, but hezbollah even got there and murdered so many and my community never recovered. do you even know about those?

so, @un-women, why won’t you call for the lebanese government & military to get hezbollah under control for the sake of both lebanese AND israeli women? instead of continuously addressing everyone’s suffering, but israeli women, who are also being hurt, killed, raped, denied of basic needs, attacked, displaced, starved and more?

israeli women under attack in the last few hours (7PM local time):

those are about 55km+- down and, say, 100km+- long. many have been displaced for over a year, those who are home, mostly those who are next to the sea, are in the shelters right now as i write this. i’d ask if jewish blood is any different, but many of the women of northern israel are actually arab; druze, muslim and christian, so i’ll just ask if israeli blood any different to you, @un-women? speak the fuck up already.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#374

“Hey!  Midnight bathroom run too?  Yeah.  I knew I shouldn’t have let my wife’s mother book this tiny inn in the middle of nowhere Germany for my honeymoon.  I live in a three-bedroom apartment in Manhattan two blocks from Central Park, and now I have to share a toilet.  I would gladly pay for a suite at a five-star hotel, but my wife likes it.  Whoever came up with “Happy wife happy life” should be shot.  "This jet lag sucks.  This is my second night here in Europe, and I haven’t shaken it.  How about you?...  You’re here a week?  Wow.  It looks like we will be competing for the toilet for a number of days.  It’s us and him in there.  That Argentinian has been in there for a bit.  I see the toothbrush in your hand; when he comes out, you can go ahead of me, as long as you are fast; I’m going to be spending some time in there.  It seems that the only way I can get to sleep is to enjoy my left hand….

“I see you smiling.  You know what I’m talking about….  Don’t be shy about it.  All guys do it.

“And the best part is as I get close, I turn on the bidet and let the warm water run across my shithole.  It’s not quite like a tongue diving in deep.  I haven’t had my ass eaten out in years….

“…You a faggot?...  Your silence makes me wonder that you might be, but your dick tenting in your robe tells me everything.  Open your robe and let me see….

“Just as I thought.  You want help me go to sleep?  Good.  Let’s go in your room.  You can brush your teeth afterwards and wash away the taste of my shithole….

“Now we are behind closed doors, you can lose the robe….  Damn you are a small fag.  How tall are you?...  I have a foot on you; I’m 6’5”.  How much do you weigh?...  I’m 290, twice your weight.  You are the size of the faggots I used to use back in grad school at Columbia.  I like them small.  I hope you like to be manhandled.  Don’t care if you don’t.

“Get on your knees fag.  Go on reach in.  Take my cock out.  Even soft, I’m bigger than your tiny four-inch pecker.  Hard, I more than double you. 

“It’s clear that there is only one man in this room, and it ain’t you.  There is only one cock in this room; yours is to be ignored.  You got that?...  Fag, you got that?...

“That’s ‘Yes Sir.’  I saw the hunger on your face in the hall when I mentioned that I loved a tongue in my shithole.  I’ve noticed the few times you’ve been checking me out as our paths crossed.  It’s the same hunger I saw on my bitch boys I used on the side when I was in grad school.  They saw a big man with a big dick, and they did whatever I wanted.  I see that hunger on your face now, and I’m expecting the same from you. 

“You drink piss….  That wasn’t a question.  Open your toilet mouth….  Take my head in.  Fuck yeah.  Relax and start swallowing….  Ahh, that feels so good.  You are a natural. 

“Is your cunt cleaned out?  Probably not.  If you can handle my cock in your throat, I’ll be back tomorrow night to sample that cunt.  Here sit on the floor with your head against the wall. 

“I want to tell you how to get me to cum.  Like I said, I was going to use the bidet to not only to clean my shithole but to make my hole feel good.  Your tongue is taking over that responsibility. 

“I haven’t had a shower since this morning, and I’ve been out all day in the sun.  My crack is going to reek.  I know you won’t mind. 

“Place a hand on each of my thighs.  Take a deep breath.  Now pay attention.  Your tongue needs to be inside my shithole pretty much all the time….  Like that.  Fuck yeah.  Don’t be alarmed if I fart on your faggot face.  It’s bound to happen. 

“Damn!  Fuck!  Your tongue is digging deep.  Faggot you know how to eat a man’s shithole.  Oh man.  I’m getting close.  But I need to sample that throat. 

“Fuck.  Hold that faggot head against the wall and open up that throat, cause I’m going right down to your stomach, all nine inches to the root. 

“Take it faggot!  Take it!  I don’t care if you gag, gasp, or even puke all over me, you are fucking taking it.  Open up that throat, dedicate that airway to me.  Oh fuck.  That’s it faggot. 

“When I’m ready to cum, it’s with your tongue in my shithole, and I want you jacking me off.  And I’m getting close.  Oh yeah!  I’m going to turn around real fast.  So close.  Hell the fuck yeah.  Get that tongue ready.  Ready?  Now!

“…Spread my cheeks and get that tongue inside me and start fucking with it.  Now reach under me and jack me off.  Fuck boy.  I’m going to cum.  Keep doing what you are doing.  Urg!  Uh!  Uh!  Fuck!  Fuck yeah!

“Oh man.  No one told you to stop.  Keep tongue fucking and jacking me.  Milk the last drops out and let them fall. 

“Faggot you did good.  I’m want to do this every night….  Ok… Ok… You can stop. 

“Whew boy.  Hand me my underwear.  And your pillow too.  The pillow is to wipe up your throat slime and remaining cum drops from my dick.  The other side is to wipe my ass.  When you go to sleep, you can smell me. 

“Whew, that was a huge load on the floor.  Start licking….  Don’t give me that look again, or I will smack you again.  That load puddled on your floor should be gold to you.  Lap it up or suck it up, I don’t care.

“Hell, you can even jack off while doing that, once I’m gone.  I don’t care. 

“You want me to come back tomorrow night?...  Good, then do as you are told.  Atta boy!  Do you have any plans for tomorrow during the day?...  You can go to a museum another day. 

“You’re doing good boy.  While you continue to lick my load, pay attention to what I have to say.  In the morning, my wife and I are heading to some castle.  Before we leave, I am going to slip an envelope under the door.  It’ll have €1500.  We are about an hour and a half from Berlin.  I want you to go there, find one of the sex shops.  I want you to purchase a bunch of items. 

“First, I want a rimseat.  You know how to eat my shithole, and you will do it again.  Find a chastity cage and have them put it on you.  Have them put the key in the same envelope and seal it.  Have them write their store’s name across the back of it.  I want that cage to be tight and most importantly, I want it to prevent an erection, not one that pushes the cage forward should that tiny thing start to grow.  Ideally I don’t want to see any bump from your tiny pecker.  You got that?  I want a collar, ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs.  Buy about 10 meters of rope and some padlocks.  Get lube.  And I don’t know how you are going to do this but get something to clean you out.  And see if they sell teeth guards; I felt some teeth when I was in your throat.

“At midnight, keep your door unlocked.  Be wearing the collar and the cuffs.  And get a good hood and wear it.  Leather can be expensive.  I’ll bump that up to €2000 in the envelope.  If there’s money left, get me a flogger. 

“You got all that?...  Good boy. 

“Where’s your phone?  Here it is.  Good an iPhone.  Look up.  Good it unlocked.  Get back to the floor.  I’m putting my side cell number in here.  I am listing myself as ‘SIR’.  I want you to text me when you buy each item.  And have the store worker take pics of you being fitted for the cage and anything else they care to.  And if they want to use you, you will let them.

“I’m going to add you to my find my iPhone app, so I can track where you are.  So I know what text you are, what’s your area code or country code?...  215?...  Philadelphia?...  Oh boy.  My firm has me in Philly one week a month and a weekend in between.  I have an apartment near Rittenhouse square.  You perform well here, and I will be taking you on permanently. 

“Keep licking boy.  Don’t get up until every drop is in your belly.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  I need to get back to my wife.”

[crttvset]

23/25 BABY I AM SO GOOD AT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE

i think i did good on my reading comprehension test maybe im not illiterate after all

[silverskull]

Chenford and The Rookie S6

This is a post where I vent my frustrations with The Rookie season 6 and the Chenford breakup. I will take questions, but I do not guarantee an answer. Retain the fact that this is a TV show I am mad at, not someone/thing in your personal life.

This month/few weeks haven't been great for me to absorb what happened in the last episodes of the season. Some of the reasons are listed below before I start sounding off.

-Unrelated but irritating:

Working 3 jobs, only 1 is paid. 

Crunch time at all 3 jobs

Visiting family expecting all of my time (same crunch weeks as work)

-Related and disappointing:

Cancelled cameo

Cancelled convention appearance

Sloppy SM and PR, frequently missing Melissa

Short S6

Late S7 renewal announcement

Delayed start S6 and extra-long hiatus before S7

Specifics:

Okay, so in 606 Tim lied - so did Lucy and Lopez. Why was there no IA investigation for them or concern about their honour? We were led to believe in 214 (Casualties) that everyone involved in an off-book mission could be compromised. So now why is the fact that Tim is lying more important than either woman compromising their career? Why is there no acknowledgement of THEIR discomfort? Lucy was already on shaky ground after he let her take the blame for SOME RANDOM SCENE COPS??!!? at the clown murder before her detective exam, but now I’m supposed to be worried about Sergeant Spotless-Record Bradford and his honour?! He could have just let that Ray guy go, or even fucking TOLD SOMEONE. He'd still have saved the Venezuelan, but it would have been above board.

And then, apparently the breakup happened over the aforementioned lying and Tim and Mark’s coverup of Ray’s misdeeds. We got no further clarification on this. And I really tried. I read deeply, DEEPLY into Tim’s reasoning (there are tumblr posts and twitter threads). I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I earnestly plead with people on twitter to give it time. But instead of that patience paying off, all we got was Tim trying to act normal, Lucy justifiably pissed, and generalised "things" opened up in (blackmail) therapy?

(Here’s where people have been coming at me too: I don’t really care about the therapy storyline. Honestly, if it’s not done well, I don’t know why we bother. I'm not out to get therapy, I just don't think it's working here. Just mention it and carry on like with Lucy after DOD, or show some scenes from the damn sessions. But turning the therapist into a blackmailer for Monica, who was selling to The Swiss?!?? or an Argentinian??? (I don’t even know and I do not care, and I will not listen if you try to explain, lalalalalala) How did we even end up here???)

And it PISSES ME OFF that we spent years building up the momentum for there to be turbulence in their relationship over Lucy going UC. We were ready. We were waiting. The traps were laid and baited. And they just went PSYCH! IT’S TIM’S ARMY DAYS THAT ARE THE PROBLEM, EVEN THOUGH WE LEAD YOU TO BELIEVE HE WAS WELL ADJUSTED BACK IN 214 WITH MITCH AND 311 WITH KATIE BARNES LOLOLOL

We have spent SO MUCH time on Tim's backstory. In fact, here's a list!

Isabel - wife -> ex-wife, UC drug addict, unfaithful

Tom Bradford - abusive father

Army - Let Mitch get his leg blown up; told Katie to let it go with a ladybird; unblemished record;

Cop Buddies - Wrigley -> lazy; Mack -> Addict;

Love Interests - Isabel, Rachel, Ashley

Family - Genny and Tyler (and some other nephew, and apparently a niece and a drunk uncle)

Here is what we know about Lucy:

Mother, Vanessa and father, Patrick, are psychologists and hard on Lucy

Mother had an affair with a patient (also named Patrick) who is Lucy's father, but - boo - he's dead. So is bff Jackson.

Aunt Amy and unseen Nana are nice.

Lucy's other love interests (206 ex, Emmet, Chris, TIMOTHY BRADFORD) have been assholes.

NOW WHOSE FECKIN BACKSTORY DO WE NEED TO SEE MORE OF???

(sorry to those of you who have heard all this from me before, I am literally typing my sporadic thoughts with you guys into longform)

Look, no doubt characters on this show need therapy, but if we’re just gonna make it a vehicle for some random side-characters to have an entire story arc, then WHY? And like, we were misled with the Bailan getting-pregnant storyline too, only to end back up where we started with fostering - because it’s only worth second place if your ovaries are geriatric. LIKE? SO. MANY. PROBLEMATICS.

It’s as if The Rookie plotters were given the outline to the exam questions… then tried to make the answers fit all the WRONG QUESTIONS (I may be speaking from experience). If the cards are laid out one way, don’t struggle to make a different answer fit. Just use what you’ve got, and use it wisely. Especially when it’s been working so well.

And another thing!!! Canon is not fiction - we all know that. We’ve all seen the ones who get carried away with fanon Chenford and ‘Lucy is vegan’-type imaginings that were never actually true. But saying if we don't like canon then we should just write or read fiction to deal with it is only serving to send people deeper into denial. There is a point where you are not crazy, and the writers did something stupid and you start understanding what ‘jumped the shark’ actually means.

Speaking of outdated TV lingo, I saw a really good tweet from Brian_Cronin :

TV showrunners accepting the "truism" that getting "will they/won't they?" characters together hurts the show, always citing Moonlighting, is because they like "rules" that remove their responsibility, as "Don't write the show poorly once they're together" puts the onus on them.

This goes for Chenford. No, Eric Winter. No, Alexi Hawley. We don’t need to see a breakup because it’s more like ‘reality’. Here’s a shocker: we come to watch a COP show, in this age of police brutality, global dictatorships, internationally ignored genocide, timelines full of dead babies and the constant looming threat of utter climate destruction to ESCAPE from reality. We are not watching a COP SHOW - A SHOW ABOUT ONE OF THE MOST VIOLENT, ABUSIVE POLICE FORCES IN THE WESTERN WORLD - for “reality”. Get your fucking head in the game. We supported you through pandemics and strikes, and you pull this season of SHIT on us.

I love all the characters, but I’m hooked for chenford. And I feel really badly treated.

If I was marking your exam, you’d get a failing grade.

“Started off well - linked UC storyline to previously-hinted relationship trauma. Dropped the plot entirely mid-way and brought in a host of unknowns. Tried to blame breakup on army issues previously marked as ‘resolved’, instead of UC drugs and unfaithful wife/abusive father? Reused names multiple times. Confusing and inconsistent. Fatally underused Chen character - inexplicably failing downwards, while Nolan character inexplicably promoted upwards. Use basic research next time."

[y0url0verb0y]

Evan Rosier Headcanons Pt. 1

Appearance/Physical

Evan is light-skinned half-Argentinian half French

He's got heterochromia (right eye pale blue, left eye jade green)

His hair is a natural light blond and it's probably a mix of 3A and 2C

I like Trans Masc Evan especially if he's twins with Trans Femme Pandora but I think we're rlly sleeping on intersex Ev. (Cis Evan works great too. Depends on the context for me for any gender Identity.)

He's got so, so many freckles. Barty likes to trace them with his tongue.

He has broad shoulders and a naturally slim waist, and he used to be super insecure about it (especially when ppl would call him a girl for having a slimmer waist) that he took to baggier clothes. But do not get me wrong he never showed his insecurity to anyone (minus panda) anyone who made fun of him was hexed, if not by him then by Barty or Reg.

I don't think he's exactly short, probably around 5"9 - 5"11 depending on the context, but next to (my) Barty literally anyone looks like an ant sooOOoOoOoOOoO.

He has long lashes, Mary is jealous when she finds out and he tells her she can have them.

Pandora accidentally charmed his hair ginger once and he kept it for like a month because he didn't want her to feel bad and he insisted he loved it. (Barty sure liked it, but he was glad to see blond Ev back when the time came.)

Evan has a phatty and it jiggles when he walks fucking fite me....(Barty sure appreciates it. Especially since his ass is all bones flat mf.)

his aesthetic falls on like a mix of skater boi and dark academia

He's got Barty's name tatted on his lower back (and snakes on his hips), and you'd think Barty would want to brag about it but no. Barty is the only one who sees it and the only one who knows.

He and Panda have matching tattoos. (Idk what tho so tell me what you think)

He wears silver jewelry only

that's all I've got rn, lmk if you've got any more :]

[charlie-lec-stories]

Fangio 2.0 // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Charles finds himself worried about the crazy frenzy around his girlfriend who just got a seat in F1, but this feeling that was constantly minimized by her is going to become more than justified when a threat is made.

Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking, misogyny, drugs, obsessive behavior, descriptions of violence.

Author’s Note: This is a story I totally forgot about but that it's fucking amazing. Some time ago I read that the Argentinian driver, Fangio, was kidnapped before the Cuban Grand Prix and the story was inspired by that. It's crazy, but Fangio said that his captors treated him "very well" and he was dropped off unharmed at the Argentinian Embassy 29 hours after being captured. Based on that, this story is less happy, but I thought it would be interesting to work on male obsession with female celebrities. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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"¡La puta madre, pero qué boluda!" (Motherfucker, what an idiot!). Charles heard his girlfriend's voice coming from the bathroom, making him look away from his phone. He understood Spanish very well, still, he had no idea what she said. Her tone made it clear to him that she was cursing, but he was starting to believe that Argentinians had a language of their own, because it was really hard for him to understand it. He had never heard of anyone with as many variations of curse words and complicated slang as his girlfriend. Most of what she said couldn't even be translated properly or made no sense when taken literally. Her soft footsteps grew in volume as she walked closer to the living room, where he sat comfortably on the couch. She stood in front of him with her best puppy eyes, showing him his bottle of Tom Ford cologne. It was expensive, he wanted to wince, but her accent was really cute when she apologized. "Amor, I'm so sorry. I broke your perfume".

"It's okay, mon amour, don't worry". He gave up easily and she smiled, sitting on his lap.

"I'll buy you a new one. I promise". He chuckled. She earned a quarter of his salary, he wasn't going to make her pay for a new one.

"You don't have to, it's really expensive". He said softly bumping her nose with his.

"No, no. I broke it, Charlie. I have to replace it". She noticed that he was looking at her with pity. "It can't be that expensive, right?".

"Well... it's around 300 dollars the small bottle". She moved back a little, her eyes wide open.

"Ehh! ¿Qué rompimo'?". Charles laughed loudly, he already understood what that phrase meant, she said that on a date before, when he took her to an expensive restaurant in Monaco and she was horrified with the prices on the menu. She had just signed with Alfa Tauri, after winning the F2 championship. She explained to him that the phrase was an Argentinian saying and it meant that something was overpriced, he loved it when she explained things to him. They had been dating for quite some time, first introduced by Arthur, his younger brother, after they shared a podium in F3. He asked her out, she said yes and two weeks later everyone knew they were dating. That was two years ago. Now, Red Bull was interested in her, they wanted to see how well she did with Alfa Tauri before moving her to the main team, as Max Verstappen's teammate. "Shit, I'm not paying that for a perfume. Can I compensate the damage with a great quickie pre-press? It's the best I can offer". She fixed her position on his lap, sneaking her arms around his neck and pressing her body to his, he just chuckled.

"That would be more than enough".

Running kind of late after what ended up not being a quickie, they made their way to the paddock. It was Monaco Grand Prix and Charles was tense, he wanted to finally win his home race. Y/N took his hand in hers and he pulled her close firmly while they walked, waving at the fans and press that had gathered at the entrance, but keeping their distance for security mesures. Having been a couple for long, people were interested on how they would deal with racing each other and their relationship. The press was constantly nagging them and trying to steer some drama. However, the biggest problem wasn't the press but the fans. Charles' fans were mostly women and never did more that call Y/N names from time to time, mostly at the beginning of their relationship. On the other hand, her fans were not only women but also men, and they were a lot more obsessive. It was like people was crazier around her, screamed louder, and crushed harder on her, like she was a goddess. Charles could understand why people loved her so much, he loved her endlessly himself, but he was worried about the level of obsession around his girl. People were always pulling weird stunts to get close to her, trying to touch her and crying when they got to see her. She was like a pop star, cameras and people running after her all the time. It was strange that something like that happened on her first ever season in F1, but Alfa Tauri was more than happy with the amount of attention that she brought to them. Her natural appeal to people got her and the team a lot of sponsors and the PR team wanted to exploit her public image to the maximum. They appointed her a security team and exposed her as much as they could. Nonetheless, Charles kept worrying, he was way wealthier than her and had been on the spotlight for longer, but he had never felt in danger because of it. There were threats agains her, people saying that they were going to kill her so no one else could have her, men sending letters describing everything they'll do to her, and other disgusting things. He did feel scared for her but security assured them that they would handle that.

"Good morning, you two!". Megan, Y/N's PR officer, greeted them once they made the security check at the paddock's entrance. She smiled and they mirrored the gesture.

"Good morning, Meg. How are you?". Y/N gripped Charles' hand again as he watched Marc, Y/N's bodyguard, talk with the paddock's security. Marc followed them around wherever they went to, and Charles was grateful for that, he did a great job keeping Y/N safe. The man was almost 2 meters tall, which already would make anyone feel safe, but what Charles liked the most about Marc was how detail orientated he was. Marc's operations were amazing and never failed, he could always move them out of a place without exposing them or putting them in any danger and kept a close eye on stalkers and threats. Talking with the paddock's security was something that Marc did everyday to keep them in the loop of what was needed to ensure Y/N and Charles safety. While the other two women talked, Charles noticed that Marc was frowning, the tall man wasn't exactly rainbows and sunshine, but he was a pretty amicable guy who was usually in a good mood.

"Che, amor" (Hey, love). Y/N pulled at Charles' hand to catch his attention. "Is everything alright? You look kinda pale”.

“Marc is frowning”. Charles answered without looking at her. “I think something’s wrong”.

“Well, he’s approaching us... We’ll see”. She was frowning herself as she watched her bodyguard walk towards them.

“Miss Y/N, for security reasons we’ll cancel press today”. Marc said with a steady and calm voice. It helped Y/N relax a bit, but not Charles.

“What do you mean security reasons?”. The monegasque asked anxiously.

“There’s been a threat which we decided to take seriously, it involves the press rounds. It was specifically against Miss Y/N, it doesn’t suppose any risk to you, Mr. Charles, but I suggested your team to follow the same security plan just in case”. Charles and Y/N looked at each other, then at Megan.

“I’ll make a statement, don’t worry”. The PR official answer with a sigh.

“Please, let’s go inside to discuss the security mesures we took for this situation”. Still holding hands, maybe a little tighter than before, the two drivers walked inside Alfa Tauri’s hospitality right in front of Marc.

The security team explained to them what they had to do: stay mostly indoors, don’t approach unknown people and areas, evade groups of people and use the buddy system to never be alone. Monaco police was aware of the situation and were working with them to let the two drivers rest assure that they’ll find the source of the threat. Charles spent the day glued to Y/N’s side, he even waited for her outside the bathroom, scared of something happening and not being able to help. Their teams arranged for their practices to be simultaneously to make their security teams’ job easier. They finished their practices together and went straight back to their apartment. Even there, Charles was unable to relax, he stayed close to his girlfriend, following her around the apartment as if something could come out of a closet a take her. He had this bad feeling inside his chest, he wasn’t sure if it was Marc’s weary behavior or the fact that they should have found the source by now and they haven’t, but something inside him told Charles that this was bad. Y/N reassured him that everything would be alright, that she wasn’t scared and that he shouldn’t be scared either. They cuddled in bed for the rest of the afternoon, then had dinner and went back to bed. Charles hugged her close, tightly wrapped her in his arms, as if she would disappear at any second.

When Charles woke up the next morning, his girlfriend wasn’t in his arms where he left her, instead he found her side of the bed empty. Alarmed and suddenly hyperaware, he got up and searched the apartment calling her name, but she was nowhere to be found. In the kitchen, on the island, he found a note: “Good morning, Amor. Walter texted, they found the source and everything’s fine. Wanted to wake you up but you needed the sleep. I’ll be back in 20 to have breakfast together. Te amooo”. Walter was Marc’s replacement for night shifts, he worked from 8 PM to 8 AM. Charles looked at the time, it was 7:48, so Walter and Y/N should be getting back any time soon for Walter and Marc to exchange their duty position. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but he tried to calm himself down and don’t overthink it. She would be back in a few minutes and they’ll have breakfast and go to the paddock. He jumped at the sudden knock on his front door.

“Amour, did you forget your keys again?”. He asked as he walked to the door, but it wasn’t his girlfriend on the other side of it.

“Mr. Charles, is Miss Y/N here?”. Marc asked him, worried.

“No. She’s out with Walter. Left a note saying that you guys found the source and everything’s fine. She should be back any moment now”. Charles felt the cold rush going down his spine.

“We haven’t found the source yet. You need to come with me, now. Walter is not answering his intercom”. Marc forced Charles out of the apartment, not even caring that he was just in joggers and slippers, he barely got time to grab a hoodie from the living room before he was dragged outside. On the street, Monaco police was waiting for their signal to enter the apartment and check it. He saw a few officers walk inside as he was taken to a black SUV, where other officers were waiting to escort him to the police station.

Charles sat anxiously at the station, he was offered some clothes to change into and he felt kind of uncomfortable with the police training outfit, it itched and was too warm. Or maybe he was the one warm and itchy from stress. They had him sitting there, without information and at any other situation he would’ve been screaming and throwing things around until someone kept him in the loop. But now, scared and confused, he couldn’t even remember how to speak, his mind working on a mix between English, French, Italian and Argentinian Spanish, unable to form a coherent thought. He was paralyzed, he didn’t know where his girlfriend was, if she was okay, if he would ever see her again. The wet dots on the blue police pants let him know that he had been crying for who knows how long. His head hurt, he could feel the pulse of his heart on his right lobe and a tingling sensation that went from his ear to his eye. The stress was eating him alive. There were a few officers that looked at him with pity, feeling sorry for him and kind of surprised for his vulnerability. He was a hero in Monaco, his smile was plastered everywhere, it was impossible for the Monegasques to picture him like this, so broken. He was sobbing uncontrollably, with his knees to his chest, his hair messy and hands shaky. It had been two hours since they took him there and he never stopped crying once.

“Charles!”. He looked up from his knees and found a lot of familiar faces. His mother and brothers, his best friends Pierre and Joris and Y/N’s closest friends Carlos and Max. Carlos had been the one to call his name sprinting towards him. “Mate, what happened? They told us Y/N is missing!”

“I… I don’t know”. He started crying again. He wanted to be strong and composed, but he just couldn’t. He needed her back. His mother walked to him and wrapped her arms around him, whispering some comfort in French. The commotion brought Marc out of the Sergeant’s office, making everyone look at him. His face serious and hard and he was gripping some papers quite tightly.

“We found Walter. But not Y/N”. He informed them. “He’s unconscious and he’s been taken to the hospital”.

“What happened? Where did you find him?”. Max asked what everyone wanted to know.

“He was on an ally 15 blocks away from the apartment. He was beaten and thrown out of his own car”. Marc explained. Charles cried some more, he wasn’t even sure he had any more tears in him to shred. “We are hoping to get more information once he wakes up”.

“What about the cameras?”. Pierre asked after a moment of silence.

“That’s another thing we need to talk about”. Marc walked closer to Charles. “We have a few pictures of a few possible suspects and some footage from the security cameras. We need you to look at it”.

“Okay”. Charles answered with his voice hoarse. Marc called an officer, who handled Charles a laptop, no one wanting him to move, too scared of him collapsing.

The video was hard to watch. There was a delivery boy, standing at the door, ringing their bell and waiting. The video had sound, and he could be heard. He told her that he was from the pharmacy, that the perfume she ordered was there. He could hear his girlfriend telling him that she didn’t ordered it. The kid told her that a woman called Kristine Weller was the one who ordered it, Kristine was her assistant. Convinced that her assistant had ordered it for her, she told the boy that she’ll be down in a minute. The perfume, the fucking Tom Ford perfume. He saw her open the door, fully dressed to go on a run, and talk to the boy. She paid him a generous tip and took the bag with the perfume. Then, after saying good bye, she walked towards Walter’s car, parked on the other side of the street. The cameras didn’t cover what happened, but a few seconds later, the car could be seen going north. The next video showed the car again, from behind, and it was shaking. Then the driver’s door opened and an unconscious Walter was thrown out, the face of the person who attacked him was slightly uncovered, but not enough for an identification without something to compare it with. On the video it could be seen that Y/N was on the back seat, kicking at the window of the left back door. There was no sound so it couldn’t be heard what they were saying. The officer closed the laptop. Marc looked at Charles, who kept as quiet as he was before.

“We believe that the children’s lock was on and she couldn’t open the door, so she started kicking the window, trying to break it”. Marc explained. “The perpetrator used the perfume as bait and got lucky with her plan of going for a run. We know that he sent a text from Walter’s work phone, telling her that the source was found. She told Walter that she was going to go for a jog, without knowing it, she gave the man 20 minutes ahead of us with that plan”.

“She always runs to relieve stress”. Charles said softly.

“The source bounces from country to country, this person knows about technology. We checked your computers, they were both hacked. He’s been watching you, studying you and your routines”. Charles stopped crying for a moment and looked at Marc, confused. “He probably heard your conversations and used the camera to watch you. He had access to your calendars and emails, everything".

“He knew about the perfume”. Charles got a few glances and decided to explain. “She broke my perfume yesterday. She wanted to buy me a new one”.

“We checked with Kristine and the pharmacy, she wasn’t the one that brought the perfume, but Y/N’s card was used to pay. We believe he may have done it through her computer. She told Kristine that she’ll buy one for you as a surprise, after she told you she wasn’t buying it”. Charles felt sick, he felt like it was all his fault somehow. “He ordered it as Kristine, payed with Y/N’s card and sent the text from Walter’s phone to make sure that she’ll walk out of the apartment. The threat was to keep us busy. It specifically targeted her in the paddock, keeping our focus there and away from your home. He planned this, for quite some time, he was just waiting for the right moment to put his plan to work”.

"Has him asked for a ransom?". Arthur looked at Charles when he asked, who just shook his head.

"I don't think he will". Marc informed them. "The threat suggests that he's obsessed with her. Even thought it was to keep us occupied, he wrote it and we can analyze it. He seems to believe that he loves her and she belongs with him".

"I'm never seen her again. He's going to kill her". Charles cried out.

"No, no". The bodyguard comforted him quickly. "This is actually an opportunity to get her back. If she follows her obsessive fan training, she'll be safe. He won't hurt her because he needs her to love him back".

"Obsessive fan training?". Joris asked.

"When we noticed that a lot of people were showing obsession tendencies, we gave her a training on how to deal with that behavior if she ever crossed paths with someone like that".

"So you thought something like this would happen?". Max was getting angrier.

"No, not a kidnap, but we expected some unfriendly encounter with a stalker at some point. We taught her to be nice and do what she was asked, to be affectionate with the perp and how to look for ways to escape the situation. We also told her how to save the situation if she failed an escape to buy herself some time". Everyone stayed silent, unsure on how to take the information. "She's a smart woman, she'll get us the time we need to find her".

Two days. Two days and no new leads, he couldn't recognize anyone from the pictures that Marc showed him at the station. Charles couldn't eat nor sleep. The Grand Prix was cancelled and Ferrari gave him a paid leave until the situation was finally handled and he could get back. He stayed with Joris and Arthur at Joris' apartment, since his own was a crime scene. Walter was still unconscious and unable to give them information. Charles felt like he was losing his mind. He missed her so much. He felt empty without her, like everything lacked meaning. He didn't want to race, or talk or even listen to music. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing her, her eyes close and face relaxed, like the last time he saw her three nights ago and that sight made him miss her more. He needed her to sleep properly, to breath, to live. Joris tried to force him to eat, Arthur too, but he just couldn't. Whatever he ate, he threw it all up later. For the third day, Walter woke up. He gave a description of the assailant and Marc looked at their database to find possible matches. No one was. Another dead end. Charles was losing his patience and the fact that he hasn't eaten in three days wasn't helping. He finally fainted on the fifth day and was taken to the hospital. He was connected to an IV to give him some vitamins and nutrients. He felt weak and broken.

Seven days was too long, but the time of a whole week without Y/N sadly arrived. Charles had spent the last two days at the hospital and was discharged once his last tests results were alright. Lorenzo, his older brother, picked him up, ready to take him to his house instead of Joris' to see if he could help his younger brother get better. Everyone was losing hope in finding her, dead or alive, and they were trying to prepare Charles for the worst. At the hospital, Lorenzo took Charles' arm and started guiding him to the exit, when a nurse stopped them around the ER area.

"Charles!". She called out. "I don't know if you remember me-"

"Yes, I do". Charles cut her off and gave her a small smile. "You are the nurse that help Y/N when she cut her hand last Christmas". It happened last year, they were celebrating and drank a little too much. They went back home and while making out in the kitchen, they knocked off a glass, she cut her hand trying to clean it up, even though he told her not to. They spent the whole time at the hospital arguing and the nurses were watching. It seemed like they were on the verge of breaking up but then she cursed at him in Spanish and he laughed. She joined him and the problem was solve. The nurses found cute and pretty funny how they went from fighting to laughing in a second. But they were like that, they just couldn't stay mad at each other for too long.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry for what you are going through and that I hope that Y/N can be found safe and sound". She smiled at him and Charles nodded his head. "We all could see that you both love each other so much".

"Thank you". He didn't expect his voice to be so broken. "We do, I do. I love her so much". Lorenzo could see he was breaking down again so he asked for some support.

"Maybe we just need to sit down for a moment. Is there anywhere quiet where we could go?". She nodded her head.

"Yes, of course, follow me. You can sit for a while in the nurses' casino". They followed her and made sure that Charles was away from the public eye. They sat him down and the nurse helped him steady his breathing. She stayed with them until she was called. "I have to go, but my colleague, Jean, will be around. Okay, just tell him if you need anything". She walked out and spoke to a tall blond guy who was outside. Charles could hear her telling him to offer them some water. The guy entered the room and Charles could feel a cold sensation through his body, the hair at the back of his neck going up and goosebumps all over his arms. That face, he knew that face.

"I know you". Charles told him in a whisper. Jean looked at him with a smile. "You were here when my girlfriend cut her hand". But he knew him from somewhere else, he just couldn't pinpoint from where. Charles could see a hint of disgust in Jean's eyes for a moment, but it went away just as fast as it came.

"I don't remember, sir, but if it was a Wednesday, Friday or Saturday, I was probably here".

"It was a Friday". Charles informed him and the other just nodded his head.

"I think I remember now. You were fighting. It was Christmas. Such a shame for girl to spend the holiday in an ER box". There was this teasing tone in his voice, Charles didn't like it. Lorenzo followed the conversation, sensing that something wasn't alright. The nurse looked pretty familiar to him too. "Well, I'll leave this here for you". Jean placed a bottle of water on the table and walked out of the room.

"It's him". Charles said softly. "Call Marc".

"I'm sure it's him!" Charles repeated exasperated once he was at Lorenzo's apartment, his grip on his phone a little too hard. "He was there when Y/N cut her hand. He looked at her a lot, I remember that I got kind of jealous. I was drunk but I remember him. And I'm sure that his face is in the video". Marc wasn't sure, but it was their only lead, so he went with it.

"I'll check it out".

It took them a few hours to gather everything they could about Jean Laurent. He was a smart man, a nurse, but he was formerly a militar operative, specialized in informatics. He had a dishonored discharge for stalking a fellow soldier, she refused to press charged in exchange of him leaving the military. He became a nurse and worked as such since then. He was openly passionate about F1 and had made a few comments against Charles. He followed Y/N on all social networks he liked all of her pictures and posts. He had what was needed to be a suspect. When they compared the footage of the camera with his picture, it looked similar. Marc then showed the picture to Walker, who recognized him quickly and that gave them enough to get a search warrant. The operation was smooth and fast. Jean understood pretty easily the he didn't had the upper hand and gave up. Inside his home, they found Y/N handcuffed and with the same clothes she had when he took her. She was pale and drugged and they took her to the hospital where she was stabilized. Jean confessed that he always loved her and hated Charles, and when he saw them arguing on Christmas he decided to hack into their computers to "protect her". To him, Charles didn't deserve her and didn't treat her right. With some time, he became addicted to watch her everyday until watching wasn't enough, he then moved into a new path and decided to take her. At the hospital, the doctors confirmed that she was well fed and hydrated, she didn't have any injuries more that the bruises from the handcuffs. She wasn't sexually assaulted and she assured them that he didn't try it either. Toxicology confirmed that she was indeed drugged, and Jean told them that he did it then he had to go to work, to make sure that she was "calmed" and "relaxed" when he wasn't around. Once everything was sorted out at the hospital, they let Charles see her.

"Mon Amour!" (My love!). He called her when he saw her. She was mess, but the smile she gave him when she looked at him lightened up her eyes. He hugged her tight, feeling like he was alive again. "Je t'aime tellement" (I love you so much). He repeated in her ear over and over again.

"Yo también te amo, Charlie" (I love you too, Charlie). They stayed like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close to each other again. "I was so scared, all I could do was think of you and how to find you". She said once she broke the hug. He grabbed her face and kissed her softly.

"It's okay, we're together now. You're safe". She nodded her head and smiled at him. He left out sigh of content and peace now that he had her back, safe and sound. They went to Lorenzo's apartment once she was discharged from the hospital. She seemed to be dealing well with the situation. She assured Charles that her captor never hit her, assaulted her or even yelled at her, but she saw just how violent he could be when he attacked Walker, who she thought was dead. She was relieved when she found out that he was alive. Public statements were made and a few more weeks of recovery were given to both of them before going back to the races.

They got their apartment back a week after she was rescued. Sitting on their couch, cuddled up under a blanket, they talked softly about how they were dealing with the situation. They both came to the conclusion that therapy was needed and that they will not shy away from this, they wanted to get better, to feel better and to heal. Charles also decided that he wanted to get married, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he choose to wait until she was feeling like herself again. He knew that she was going to say yes, they had been ready for marriage for a long time, he just had to ask. And he will. It took them a few month to find some sort of normalcy, but they found it by the end of the year, after a lot of therapy and relaying on each other. One windy day of December, almost a year after they crossed paths with Jean for the first time, Charles found Y/N looking at painting of Fangio they had hanging on their living room. Sneaking his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, he looked at the painting too, trying to find out what was so interesting about it.

"Did you know that Fangio was kidnapped in Cuba?". She asked in a whisper, turning around in his arms to face him.

"No, I didn't". He pecked her lips, then her jaw and went down to her neck. He wasn't trying to start anything, he just wanted her to feel loved.

"If you had a nickel for every time an Argentinian F1 driver was kidnapped, you'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice". And with that joke, he knew she was back. He saw the yes in her eyes, so he asked:

"Will you marry me?".

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Shoot out to my Argentinian ex who was a walking slang dictionary. God, that boy was hard to understand, and we both spoke the same language.