#because after fighting with Google for a while

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DATING HAN LUE HEADCANONS

pairing: han lue x reader

word count: ~2k

warnings: 18+, no smut perse but mentions of it, language, not much really, this is pretty tame

a/n: hello there! it's been a while since i've written for this lovely man but i recently found this on my notes and figured it's a good time to finish it. this was a request i got a while ago, it was by an anon so anon if you see this, i got you!!

the request only asked for dating headcanons so there's not much plot in here unlike the waitress one.

i feel really bad cause i got my han girlies on my inbox asking for more han content and i've been jumping from fandom to fandom. i just need the last movie to come out to fuel the love i have for han.

enjoy <3

Han is a man who prefers long term relationships. Amongst a life full of chaos he relishes on those relationships he can lean back and find calm and comfort, someone he can rely on.

Doesn’t mean Han's not into hook ups though. Whenever he’s single he’ll have his fair share of one nights stands. At the end of the day he's a man with needs, especially since he loves putting his life on the line.

Han he keeps people in boxes: friends, off limits, hookups, and relationship material. Of course there’s also that box with bright red letters that spell TOXIC. Most people in that box are one night stands that thought they stood a chance after a hookup and became a little unhinged.

Whenever Han finds that person that is relationship material he doesn’t let them go. He’ll pursue them in his cool and nonchalant way. He’ll compliment them so smoothly they won’t notice until much later.

Han will invite you out to do random stuff, wording it as 'errands' and it’s only in the middle of it that you realize it’s a date. Lunch followed by a scenic walk in a park in Tokyo and then dessert? Definitely a date. It’s perfect because it takes those first date jitters out of the way.

You fall in love with him way too quickly and Han knows when you do. It's your own fault because once you realize you're head over heels you become this mumbling, blushing mess.

It was a smooth transition from friends to dating to being in a relationship and it's all because of Han. He's great at reading people and it helped him ease your nerves and figure out how you were feeling with every outing.

With entering a new relationship there's a period of getting to know the other person. Han is an open book, he doesn't see the point of hiding anything with the girl that might be his future. You either accept him as he is now or you don't and that's the end. He has nothing to hide although he tiptoes around his late teens.

When Han tells you of his life as a fugitive you don't believe him. You laugh in his face. Like, “Yeah, sure. You pulled off a heist in Brazil and stole from the richest mafia man with your posey of misfits. Hilarious.” Han shrugs and moves on.

You could've googled it but you don't. You just think Han had a rough upbringing he doesn’t like to talk about. Which is partly true but not the case. It comes to bite you in the ass afterwards.

Moving on, Han is not a fan of pecks on the lips. If it’s not a kiss that lasts more than 5 seconds don’t fucking bother. He’s an all or nothing kinda man, you know?

I mean it’s not like Han will fight you if you do but it's visible how he's left wanting more. You’ve learned your lesson the hard way. You’re in a rush and to say goodbye you quickly peck him on the lips and then Han will pull you back in and plant a good kiss in, successfully making you even more late.

That being said Han adores kisses on the forehead or temple or back of the head. Han will randomly walk up to you while you do chores around the apartment and press a kiss to the back your head with his hands on your hips. Then he’ll walk off like nothing happened, leaving you all ☺️☺️.

Dating Han includes spending nightfall in each others arms. Resting in the increasingly comfortable sofa and raking your fingers through his hair, coaxing him to stay in.

"Do you have to go out, Hannie?" You whisper, scratching on his scalp making him shudder.

"I told them I'd be there." Han's response is muffled as he gets more comfortable, his face pressed against your breasts.

"But do you have to?" You insist as your other hand goes to scratch his back.

"I guess I can stay in and see them tomorrow night," Han sighs as he relaxes even more against you. He's far too comfortable and this cuddling will soon evolve into something much more exciting by the way you're hanging on to him.

For a time there Han pauses his life for you. He stops going to the races and ignores the calls of the Toretto crew to nurture your growing relationship.

By pausing Han completely ignores that other part of his life leading the Toretto gang to come to Tokyo. It’s not like Han meant to ignore them he was just enjoying his time with you so much that he didn’t realize how much time had gone. We’ll get into that later.

Han is not one to argue a lot. If you’re annoyed at him for one reason or another he’ll take it and try to distract you. Whether it’s by calling you a sweet nickname or holding you or kissing you.

But if it’s about something that puts you at risk Han will put his foot down. You went out with your friends late at night and walked home alone? Unacceptable. Do you know how many sickos are out there? That's when real arguments form because you can be so stubborn and independent. You can handle yourself. Han trusts you fully, it's the outside world he doesn't trust.

If you prioritize your job instead of your well being? Nope. Han will have to step in. Hell you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. He has enough money for the two of you. The idea of being taken care of like that is so tempting but you do like having your own life and money.

Sleepy, morning ‘I love you’s.’ That’s when he says those three words the most. You typically wake up before him so you’ll play with his hair and trace your fingertips on his back to softly wake him up.

It's mid morning and you've just woken up. You turn in bed to find Han sleeping on his stomach, his long hair covering his eyes and tickling his cheeks.

You brush the hair away from Han's face, tracing your fingertips over his face to softly wake him. You'd typically let him sleep in more but you had plans for the day and he insisted in driving you around.

He starts to stir and softly groans. Your hands go to his naked back, because he loves when you do that. "Good morning, handsome."

"Morning," he says, opening his eyes and looking at you. His voice deeper and rougher than normal. He clears his throat and pull you to him, kissing your head and muttering an, "I love you."

"I love you, more," you say, kissing his chest before wiggling out of his arms, "Time to get up, you promised me to take me to brunch before going to the grocery store."

Han will absolutely let you drive his precious car. Whenever you want to for as long as you want to. Doesn’t matter if you scratch it or pop a tire. He can fix his car no problem. As long as you're safe he's all in for it.

Will silently get off on you driving fast and changing the gears of the car expertly. At that moment Han is a spectator and you're the show. He understands all the other girls he's either been with or hooked up with and how they got turned on at him driving.

Driving a fast car is sexy.

Han is the kinkiest yet softest lover ever. He will try anything at least once but is not into the harsher parts of BDSM. Spanking and bondage is okay he sees the appeal and he likes it but not the crazy parts of it. Han's favorite position is when you ride him. Not reverse cowgirl though because he likes seeing your face and your chest bouncing. He loves your expressions and hearing the curses that slip from your lips.

Han is a slut for long, messy make out sessions. The one's that start slow and then build up. His tongue in your mouth or his in yours he doesn't have a preference. Your hands in his hair, pulling on it. Wandering hands but not going anywhere. The ones where when he pulls away there's a string of saliva between you two.

I'm sorry but Han is a handsy man. In public he'll hold back so he'll keep a hand on your hips or waist, an arm around your shoulder is more common though. If he's being cheeky he'll grab your ass in public. In private though? Oh, hands always on you. Hand on your ass, hand on your tit, on your thigh, always a hand on you.

Han loves to buy you clothes and lingerie. He takes note on what clothes you like and will buy you a bunch of those but will also buy you clothes he would go crazy seeing you wear. He will demand you model them for him.

Clothes like a little black dress, four or five inch, expensive, high heels, lacy lingerie sets. You will model them but then you'll end up in his bed, clothes still on.

Han is quiet in public but in private, with you? That man loves to yap, especially when you get him to talk about things he's extremely passionate about. It's hard to get him to shut up.

Han won't succumb to his friends teasing him about the fact that his whipped, or a simp, oor any nonsense like that. He has you and he loves you. There's nothing to be ashamed of.

The day Domenic Toretto knocks on your shared home is the day you're thrown for a spin.

Han is right behind you greeting one of his closest friends. He introduces you two happily, urging Dom to come in and take a seat.

You stay right besides Han in the couch across from the big man. You've heard a lot about Dom and it's all been great things. You're just shocked at the surprise visit.

They make small talk until Dom says, "We need your help, Han."

"Anything, Dom."

When Dom leaves you're too quiet. Han approaches you, giving you a look, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? This man just came here to ask for your help in a secret mission to take down this dangerous mercenary. How do you think I feel?" You exclaim overwhelmed at what was discussed.

"You sound very surprised. I told you about Brazil and my past," Han cocks his head curiously.

"I didn't think it was real, Hannie!" You yell, "I thought you had a rough upbringing and this was your way to joke and cover it up."

"I'm sorry," Han apologizes, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Are you really doing this?" You ask, scared of what might happen now.

"I have to. They need my help," Han responds, cupping your face in his hands. There are tears in your eyes, afraid of the new reality. Gone are the days of ignorant bliss.

"What about me?" The question was heavy and loaded. You only asked one question but there were hundreds in disguise.

"I'll be back in no time. You will stay here and stay safe, alright?"

Han left early the next morning. He woke you up with a hand on your cheek and another in your back. Han gave you a long, sweet kiss and whispered 'I love you.'

You were left at home with all this new information, your computer to google Brazil, and time.

ta-daaaa. i hope you guys enjoyed this. i know it's not a lot but i feel like i would be repeating myself since dating han headcanons is very much like the waitress headcanons, except without a plot.

i'm trying to get back into writing for han it's just a little hard since i feel like all my fictional crushes are pulling me apart, begging for my attention. my love for han is always there it's just not string enough to make me sit and write a lot. it's why i need this movie to come out asap.

you guys have been so patient so thank you for that. in any case i hope you like or enjoy some of my other work while i try and bring back han <3

[ruvviks]

now why is that cassidy

WELL. YOU SEE. he is tasked to hunt down @mojaves' seb by a mystery client and cassidy who usually is a really really good assassin for some fuckass reason can't kill this guy. he keeps missing his shots he keeps fucking up every single encounter he has with seb to the point he just fails so horribly miserably terribly at killing the guy to the point their cat and mouse game (that takes like. a year. btw) ends up turning sexual. they don't have sex they don't kiss but they may as well have at this point. seb ends up licking blood off cassidy's face in one of the encounters. they fight in the gym in the showers and cassidy breaks seb's wrist. so that's where the vibes come from ^_^ they do end up teaming up to take down the client together and then after many more years get together and get gay married etc but that's not the point

post for reference if anyone missed it

[kumakuma-circus]

i think i have too many wip persona fanfics. just a hunch-

[acourtofquestions]

"Maeve is capable of worming her way into a person's mind," Rowan said. "She likely knows who our allies are and might have already compromised them." He braced a hand on Goldryn's hilt, the warm metal a comforting touch. "We don't risk it."

Lorcan grunted his agreement.

Elide said, "Maeve doesn't know me or barely does. No one here would recognize me, especially if I can ... adjust my appearance. Like I did with spreading those lies about the Valg prince. I could try to get into the city tomorrow and see if there's anything to learn."

"No."

Lorcan's reply was a knife in the dark.

Elide said to him, cool and unfazed, "You're not my commander. You're not in my court."

She turned to Rowan. But he was.

He outranked her. Rowan tried not to recoil. Aelin had laid this upon him.

Lorcan hissed, "She doesn't know the city layout, doesn't know how to handle the guards

"Then we teach her," Gavriel cut in. "Tonight. We teach her what we know."

Lorcan bared his teeth. "If Maeve remains in Doranelle, she will sniff her out."

"She won't," Elide said.

"She found you on that beach," Lorcan snapped.

Elide lifted her chin. "I am going into that city tomorrow."

"And what are you going to do? Ask if Aelin Galathynius has been strutting about town? Ask if Maeve's available for high tea?" Lorcan's snarl ripped through the air.

Elide didn't back down for a heartbeat. "I'm going to ask after Cairn."

They all stilled. Rowan wasn't entirely certain he'd heard her correctly.

Elide steadily surveyed them. "Surely a young, mortal woman is allowed to inquire about a Fae male who jilted her."

Lorcan went pale as the moon above them.

"Elide." When she didn't reply, Lorcan whirled on Rowan. "We'll scout, there's another way to

Elide only said to Rowan, "Find Cairn, and we find Aelin. And learn if Maeve remains."

Fear no longer bloomed in Elide's eyes. Not a trace remained in her scent.

So Rowan nodded, even as Lorcan tensed.

"Good hunting, Lady."

[endzithefangirl]

"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[cllightning81]

Family Friend [PG10]

Summary : You and Pierre had been dating for a while but the last thing you expected was to see a picture of you kissing on social media. Except that's not how your brother's found out it was him.

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!Reader

Warnings: Google Translate French

When you woke up that morning, the last thing you expected to see was a billion text messages from only three people. Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo. Reading through the texts, they were all variations of

You looked down with Pierre’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist. You opened the Twitter well now X app to see millions of pictures of yourself kissing a guy -Pierre- explaining all the texts from your brothers. Your face dropped as you shook Pierre awake 

‘When were you going to tell us?’

‘Who is that?’

‘What the hell Y/N’ 

“Amour? Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Love? What’s wrong?) He asked, voice deep and full of sleep

“We’ve been caught. There’s pictures of us kissing. My brother’s have already seen it” You panicked as he pulled you closer now more awake. 

“Chérie. Take a deep breath.” (Darling) You copied his breathing. Your head placed against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear resting right above his heart, relaxing you more. 

“I guess. I miss your blonde hair” You changed the subject as you always did when you panicked. 

“Now let’s see this picture?” He muttered, taking your phone and looking at it

“Okay. So it’s just a picture of you kissing someone. It’s also a very old picture Chérie” He rubbed your arm gently with his hand

“You’re changing the subject. This could be anyone in this picture, so let’s continue with our plans of a day on the boat. There’s gonna be other people there, so let’s get ready for that” You nodded, kissing his jaw. 

An hour later, you were following Pierre onto Charles’ boat after not answering any of your brother’s texts. Lando thankfully followed behind you so it didn’t look too suspicious. Not that he knew that you were using him to hide your panic. 

“Look who finally showed up” Charles rolled his eyes, and you dropped your head 

“It’s an old picture. I promise. I was like nineteen in those pictures. Like four years ago” you sighed, sitting down next to Pierre. It's more like you had been hiding your relationship for four years. It was perfect. You got to quarantine together and just pretend it was because Pierre’s house offer had fallen through. Well, it had, but he definitely could have got another. 

“Qu'est ce qui ne vas pas chez toi?” (What is wrong with you?) Arthur asked Charles, pushing him aside and wrapping his arms around you from behind. Being just a year younger than Arthur, you had always been close. He was more interested in who it was to annoy you about it than Charles, who wanted to kill whoever it was. Lorenzo just wanted to be nosey and know all the details. A little longer, you were talking about stories of your childhood with the Leclerc brothers. Pierre had left to go to the bathroom and then get the next round of drinks. 

“Y/N started a fight once, and it got a little too violent” Arthur laughed, and you shook your head 

“I did not start the fight. I joined in on the fight and got violently attacked” you replied, rolling his eyes 

“Violently attacked?” Lando asked, and you nodded

“Enzo pushed Cha. Who fell into me, and I went through the glass table. Maman was not happy. I broke her glass table but was even less amused when she realised I was bleeding” You looked at Arthur, who was sitting on the other side of you. 

“It’s a nice scar now. One for the history books” Arthur laughed 

“What scar?” Pierre asked, handing you a glass of wine as he took his seat back next to you, his hand instinctively going to your thigh, which was hidden by the table you were sitting at. 

“The one from going through the table when the boys were fighting”  

“The one on your right ribs?” He asked, and you nodded. He paused only now, just realising what had left his mouth. Shit. 

“Que viens-tu de dire?” (What did you just say?) Charles asked, standing up and rounding the side of the table

“I didn’t” He shrugged, and you rolled your eyes 

“It’s not exactly hidden, is it?” You asked with a shrug

“I’m sure Lando even knew it was there” you added, and Lando shook his head 

“Of course you didn’t” This really wasn’t how you wanted your relationship to come out. Your leg bouncing under the table. Arthur took your hand, giving it a squeeze, knowing exactly how this was about to go. Arthur had definitely pieced it together today, and he didn’t care. 

“C'est bon. Il s'en remettra” He whispered in your ear as Charles continued to go off on Pierre for getting with his little sister. You stood up, pushing Charles back 

“Shut up! Charles. You’re not my keeper. No wonder I spent the last twenty-three years hiding all of my relationships. Including this one. Pierre looks after me, Charles. More than you ever had during your travelling. It’s all I’m the best with you. Arthur’s never been good enough, I’ve never been good enough. So stop it, will you?” You shook your head walking inside the boat, Pierre, following behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands rested against the counter. Your head fell back onto his chest as you tried to hold back your tears. His head resting on your shoulder. 

“Amour. Je t'aime et je t'aimerais toujours” (Love. I love you and always will) He kissed your neck softly as his thumbs gently rubbed against your hips. 

[teapartyprincess4two]

omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request^^

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.

☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”

☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.

☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.

☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”

☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.

☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”

☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.

☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”

☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.

☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.

☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.

☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.

☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.

☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.

☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.

☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.

☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”

☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”

☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.

☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.

☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”

☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.

☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.

☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.

☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.

☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.

☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”

☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.

☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.

☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.

☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.

☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.

☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.

☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.

☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.

☆ NSFW

☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.

☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.

☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.

☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”

☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.

☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.

☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.

☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.

☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”

☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.

☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.

☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.

☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)

Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!

Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋

Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : pregnant reader ; one child ; just fluff ; the fluffiest fluff ; Word Count : 2.3k Request : Anonny : Can we have more dad lee know 🥹 after the newest skz family ep dad lee know has taken over me A/N : Gonna make this in headcanon mode so that I can give multiple examples, I can't focus on just one. The Minho brainrot has gotten to me!

Dad Lee Know who announced your pregnancy through bubble and took an hour and half a bag of kitty treats just to line Soonie, Doongie, and Dori up around your positive pregnancy test. The only caption was “I’ve been promoted from cat dad to real dad.” 

Dad Lee Know who keeps the pregnancy tracker app on his phone because he wants you to have enough storage on your phone to take constant pictures of belly updates. He sends you a text every time a week passes letting you know what the baby is the size of. Your favorite text was probably the random “BASEBALL!!!” text, it took you a good five minutes to understand what it meant since he didn’t elaborate. 

Dad Lee Know who comes home from work every day and gives your belly kisses, telling his little baseball sized baby that he missed them dearly. He says it’s so that they get used to hearing it already and they’ll know what it means when they come out. 

Dad Lee Know who plans his entire schedule around your doctors appointments, making sure that he’s able to make it to each and every one of them. He and Chan almost got into a fight because Chan accidentally said the wrong date for practice. He even wrote the appointment dates on the staff calendar so they knew not to schedule anything for those days. 

Dad Lee Know who had playfully made a bet with the guys about the gender of his child. He said he had thought it was, and he had wanted a boy, but when it was revealed that he was having a daughter he had cried tears of joy and excitedly wrote in the group chat that he’d give the guys the money he owed them for the bet after he took you out to eat. 

Dad Lee Know who started decorating the nursery for his daughter the day after the appointment, declaring that the nursery would be fit for a princess… And then proudly stating that his daughter is a princess already. She was going to be spoiled beyond belief. 

Dad Lee Know who had bought a heart doppler just so that he could lay in bed at night beside you with his headphones on listening to the sound of his daughter's rapid heartbeat. (He had also googled on the first night if it was normal for a baby's heartbeat to be almost 170bpm in the womb… It is normal.) 

Dad Lee Know who took paternity leave 3 weeks before your due date because he had read that by that time the baby could come at any point and he didn’t want to take any chances of missing the moment. 

Dad Lee Know who put on a strong face when your water broke while you both were out shopping for more baby clothes. On the inside he was freaking out, but he was staying calm for you. 

Dad Lee Know who held your hand on the ride to the hospital, tears already pricking his eyes knowing that his baby girl would soon enter this world and he’d be able to hold her. 

Dad Lee Know who freaked out a little bit (a lot) when he saw his daughter's head crowning, he was about to faint, so he opted to stay up close to your head through the rest of the delivery because he wanted to be conscious when she fully came out. 

Dad Lee Know who told you that you were doing amazing and how proud he was of you even though you were being so mean during the delivery. He understood though, it looked like it hurted a lot. He was so proud to call you his wife. 

Dad Lee Know who’s hand was shaking as he cut the umbilical cord, his breath was held, but that was the moment that he truly felt like a dad, like a father. He finally let the breath out when the cord was cut. 

Dad Lee Know who cried harder than you when he heard his daughter’s first cries. 

Dad Lee Know who begged you to let him hold her first, and you were honestly so tired that you didn’t even have the energy to say no. 

Dad Lee Know who almost filled up his phone storage completely on his daughter's first day on earth because he couldn’t stop taking pictures of her. She was so beautiful, he had hearts in his eyes the moment he laid them on her. She was precious to him and he let the world know it. 

Dad Lee Know who sent a picture of her to the group chat with the caption “I made this! So did Y/N, but look at her! Look what we made!” In that moment he had created a team of uncles that would promise to protect her just as much as Minho would. 

Dad Lee Know who woke up every night with his daughter because he didn’t want to miss a moment with her. He also knew that you needed your sleep, you had done all of the hard work, the least he could do is let you get some rest. 

Dad Lee Know who introduced his daughter to his cats as their new sister. “She’s not old enough to play yet, so be nice. You can look, but don’t touch. Okay?” It seemed like they understood him though, they would sit around her swing and stare at her, almost like they were guarding her or watching out for her, and they would only move away when you or Minho picked her up. 

Dad Lee Know who would get slightly sad when you would breastfeed his daughter because it was one of the things he couldn’t do. He surprised you with a breast pump because he wanted her to know he could give the milk too, just… In bottle form. 

Dad Lee Know who immediately felt guilty about the breast pump because it looked painful and he didn’t want you to be sore. The only time you did it now was when you knew you were going out and you wanted to have the milk ready. 

Dad Lee Know who almost threw up the first time he changed her diaper. After he was done it looked like he had lost about 20 years which was hysterical to you. All of the guys heard about it and they clowned him for it for a good bit. 

Dad Lee Know who cried his eyes out the night before his paternity leave was over. He didn’t want to go back to work, he didn’t want to spend a single moment away from you or his daughter, the thought that he might miss something was devastating to him. 

Dad Lee Know who had attempted to sneak his daughter to work with him in the baby wrap carrier, and then crying even more when you caught him and told him he couldn’t, at least not until she was a couple months older. 

Dad Lee Know who refused to believe that his daughter was already five months old when the day came around. He was a softie and he didn’t like to think that his baby girl was growing already, he wanted her to stay little forever. 

Dad Lee Knowwho brought home a “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament when he came home from work and then proceeded to cry his eyes out because “where did the time go? Tell her to stop growing.” 

Dad Lee Know who went all out for her first birthday party which he wanted to be princess themed because, alas, she was his princess. He took pictures and videos all day, and then that night when she was fast asleep, he laid in bed beside you, choked up and sniffling as he told you that he felt like he was missing too much of her life because of his job. 

Dad Lee Know who had been the one to see her take her first steps and jokingly flaunted that you had missed it… But then quickly apologized when he saw that it upset you and pulled out his phone because he had managed to record it. The group chat also got the video, they were constantly in the loop about everything that she did. 

Dad Lee Know who demanded that you and his daughter be allowed to go on tour with him and the guys, and then giving management the ultimatum that it was the three of you, or none of you at all. That was his daughter's first plane trip. 

Dad Lee Know who death stared at anyone that even looked slightly annoyed when your daughter got a little cranky on the plane. He kept her on his lap the whole time and bounced her and sang to her so that you’d have a comfortable flight. 

Dad Lee Know who talked only about you and his daughter when he had the chance to during concerts. If fans had a problem with it, he didn’t really care. You and his baby were the most important things in his life right now, and you always would be. If the fans didn’t like hearing about it, they could leave. 

Dad Lee Know who personally wrote a song about you and his daughter, and with the help of Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, he was able to have it finished just in time for your anniversary. 

Dad Lee Know who woke up every morning to make breakfast for his daughter and pack her lunch when she was old enough to go to school. 

Dad Lee Know who was the only father crying in a sea of mothers (including you) when it was her first day of kindergarten. He didn’t want to let go of her hand, and you had to practically pry his fingers off. 

Dad Lee Know who took an entire day off work that day just so he could cuddle up with you and cry to you about how empty and quiet the house felt without her there. 

Dad Lee Know who was the first parent up at the school every single day, waiting a whole hour out on the bench in front of her classroom door with a snack and a brand new stuffed animal. That’s how her stuffed animal collection began. 

Dad Lee Know who would sit on the floor next to his daughter's bed and read her bedtime stories, acting out parts of the stories with her stuffed animals because he knew it made her smile. 

Dad Lee Know who fell asleep one night in the middle of reading the bedtime stories, his head resting on the edge of his daughters mattress, and when he woke up she was sitting on his lap and sleeping as well. He didn’t move that night and he didn’t mind the backache that came along with sleeping that way either. 

Dad Lee Know who was the loudest person in the crowd when his daughter walked across the stage for her little award for perfect grades. “THAT'S MY BABY! YES! DADDY IS SO PROUD OF YOU PRINCESS!” 

Dad Lee Know who stayed up all night to help his 6th grade daughter with her science fair project, even after she headed off to bed, he continued to work on it just to make sure she got first place. 

Dad Lee Know who about lost his shit when she got second place, you and his daughter had to usher him out of the gymnasium where everything was set up so that he wouldn’t embarrass her. 

Dad Lee Know who took you and his daughter out to dinner after the science fair mishap and told his daughter that “it doesn't matter whether you got second place or first place, you’ll always be number one to me. You’re the smartest girl I know and I’m so proud of you.” 

Dad Lee Know who would help his daughter with her homework every night, even if he spent all day practicing or recording, he was never too tired to help her. 

Dad Lee Know who would still tuck his daughter in at night and make sure her closet was shut and her night light was on when she would fall asleep no matter how old she got. 

Dad Lee Know who got choked up when his daughter graduated high school, his voice cracking when she walked across the stage and hiding his face in your shoulder so that no one would see him crying. 

Dad Lee Knowwho you had to give a speech to when his daughter said that she wanted to bring her boyfriend over to meet you and Minho. “Don’t look at him like you want to kill him, Minho.” “But what if I want to kill him? He’s trying to take my baby girl away.” “Baby, she’s 19…” “Blah blah blah I don’t want to hear it! She’s a baby!” 

Dad Lee Know who threw a massive party when his daughter got accepted into SNU. He tried to uninvite his daughter’s boyfriend, but she insisted that he come or she wouldn’t show up. 

Dad Lee Know who taught his daughter to drive. He was terrified, and she almost crashed into the curb, but he told her she was doing a great job regardless so that he didn’t break her spirits. 

Dad Lee Know who would do anything for his daughter, she is his entire life, his whole world. He loved her with his entire heart. He’s the best father in the universe, he would lay down his life for her, he would give up everything for her. She’s the greatest thing to ever happen to him, and watching her grow has been bittersweet, sad but rewarding. He wanted nothing but the best for her, and he’d make sure that no matter how old he got, or how old she got, he’d always be there for her. 

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[robertreich]

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    

One man is especially to blame for why corporate power is out of control. And I knew him! He was my professor, then my boss. His name… Robert Bork.

Robert Bork was a notorious conservative who believed the only legitimate purpose of antitrust — that is, anti-monopoly — law is to lower prices for consumers, no matter how big corporations get. His philosophy came to dominate the federal courts and conservative economics.

I met him in 1971, when I took his antitrust class at Yale Law School. He was a large, imposing man, with a red beard and a perpetual scowl. He seemed impatient and bored with me and my classmates, who included Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham, as we challenged him repeatedly on his antitrust views.

We argued with Bork that ever-expanding corporations had too much power. Not only could they undercut rivals with lower prices and suppress wages, but they were using their spoils to influence our politics with campaign contributions. Wasn’t this cause for greater antitrust enforcement?

He had a retort for everything. Undercutting rival businesses with lower prices was a good thing because consumers like lower prices. Suppressing wages didn’t matter because employees are always free to find better jobs. He argued that courts could not possibly measure political power, so why should that matter?

Even in my mid-20s, I knew this was hogwash.

But Bork’s ideology began to spread. A few years after I took his class, he wrote a book called The Antitrust Paradox summarizing his ideas. The book heavily influenced Ronald Reagan and later helped form a basic tenet of Reaganomics — the bogus theory that says government should get out of the way and allow corporations to do as they please, including growing as big and powerful as they want.

Despite our law school sparring, Bork later gave me a job in the Department of Justice when he was solicitor general for Gerald Ford. Even though we didn’t agree on much, I enjoyed his wry sense of humor. I respected his intellect. Hell, I even came to like him.

Once President Reagan appointed Bork as an appeals court judge, his rulings further dismantled antitrust. And while his later Supreme Court nomination failed, his influence over the courts continued to grow.  

Bork’s legacy is the enormous corporate power we see today, whether it’s Ticketmaster and Live Nation consolidating control over live performances, Kroger and Albertsons dominating the grocery market, or Amazon, Google, and Meta taking over the tech world.

It’s not just these high-profile companies either: in most industries, a handful of companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.

This corporate concentration costs the typical American household an estimated extra $5,000 per year. Companies have been able to jack up prices without losing customers to competitors because there is often no meaningful competition.

And huge corporations also have the power to suppress wages because workers have fewer employers from whom to get better jobs.

And how can we forget the massive flow of money these corporate giants are funneling into politics, rigging our democracy in their favor?

But the tide is beginning to turn under the Biden Administration. The Justice Department and Federal Trade Commission are fighting the monopolization of America in court, and proposing new merger guidelines to protect consumers, workers, and society.

It’s the implementation of the view that I and my law school classmates argued for back in the 1970s — one that sees corporate concentration as a problem that outweighs any theoretical benefits Bork claimed might exist.

Robert Bork would likely regard the Biden administration’s antitrust efforts with the same disdain he had for my arguments in his class all those years ago. But instead of a few outspoken law students, Bork’s philosophy is now being challenged by the full force of the federal government.

The public is waking up to the outsized power corporations wield over our economy and democracy. It’s about time.

[mickyschumacher]

can you please do a Carlos imagine where Carlos and Y/N are out partying after a race. Y/N gets approached by a drunk and inappropriate guy who either trys to touch her says some inappropriate things, and Carlos steps in. He’s the crazy protective boyfriend, and he ends up getting into a fight with the guy. Carlos gets cut by a broken beer bottle during the fight, so Y/N gets to care for his wound, and basically gets to play nurse on Carlos

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after winning the australian grand prix, carlos and you decide to take on some partying. what you didn't expect was to end the night nursing your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slightly suggestive at the end (16+), depictions of blood and fighting, reader is harassed by creepy ugly disgusting man, mentions of alcohol, small consolation, poor humour, google translated spanish by yours truly, fluff, and lastly, shitty proof-reading

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x girlfriend!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k

𝐀/𝐍: so so sorry it took this long! i didn't go fully for smut because idk if you wanted it but i'm happy to make a part two in the near future! hope you enjoyed it ♡︎

𝐀/𝐍: welcome to my drabble/blurb phase because i, for the life, of me cannot produce long fics consistently despite constantly having ideas! although i am redefining the meaning of drabbles and blurbs with this word count :)

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The Australian Grand Prix. The third race into the season. Max had won the last two, predictably setting the tone for the rest of the year. Carlos, on the other hand, needed to up his game.

You were together when you found out he had lost his seat for the following year. Boy, were you gutted. Carlos had done everything in his power, forever compared to Ferrari's golden boy. He liked Charles, but what the fuck was he supposed to do with this type of treatment? And to make matters worse, Lewis was a great driver pulling great results in shit car.

Carlos needed to win. He needed to be the most wanted in that damn paddock. And while Max was winning so far, the universe often has it's odd ways.

Even if that was in the form of fiery flames on Max's brakes in the opening laps.

You remembered it as clear as day.

You were in as much disbelief as anyone else, eyes widened as Max's car slowed, grey smoke billowing out of the rear while even the Haas and Williams surpassed him.

Your eyes hesitantly moved to the large screens in the garage, zoning in on the number one row to see Carlos' name sprawled next to it. A gasp fell from your lips, eyes averting to a shouting Oñoro before you hugged each other with shaky hands.

Your heart was in your ears, thudding in echoes. Hands sticky at your sides as you watched the the last lap. You knew the outcome. Yet you couldn't stomach it. With a tight throat, you weren't sure if you going to throw up or break into tears.

Instead of your heartbeat, you found the roars of Ferrari deafening. Flashes of white cameras mixed with the air as the sun warmed your golden boy. Looking up through your lashes, you caught his gleaming smile before catching the feel of his lips on yours.

Carlos had won. He was the most wanted driver in the damn paddock.

And that deserved a celebration.

You and Carlos weren't ones for partying. Not unless it was with the right people. And there was nothing more right than a Grand Prix winner and all his supporters in one place.

It was packed. Bodies so close together, full of sweaty rivulets amongst the humidity and strobe lights. The music felt foundational as it coursed from your feet and into your veins.

Carlos watched you dance in front of him. You were remarkable. Skin so flushed that in even in the flickering lights, you radiated. Your hair stuck to your glittering skin, but nowhere near as close as the dress you had worn for him.

He smiled softly at the cheeky gaze your gave him, large hand reaching out to grab your waist. His cheek skimmed your face as he pressed a kiss onto your cheek. "You're killing me."

"All in a day's work," you quipped, hanging your hands around his neck. You could hear Carlos' huff of amusement over the pulsing music. You held those brown puppy eyes, drinking them in, you smiled. "I'm proud of you, cariño."

The humour on his face faded, replaced by a moment of fulfilment. His other hand moved to caress your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. His thumb moved in small soothing circles. "Thank you."

His words sounded like a whisper in the loudness, but you could hear how much it meant to him as much as you could see it.

You lifted your head up, bringing your lips to his. Carlos' grip on your waist tightened, his own lips quirking into a smile as you kissed him with the entirety of your heart. Gone was any trace of alcohol or humidity in the air. All you could feel, smell, and taste was Carlos. And you loved it.

Breathlessly, you begrudgingly moved away from Carlos, taking a moment to come up for air.

"Let me get you a drink, hermosa," Carlos offered, grinning at the jut of your lips as you pouted. "I'll be back soon. Fastest pitstop ever."

You laughed loudly, throwing your head back, entirely unaware of the mystical trance you had brought Carlos into. With the nod of your head, you gestured for him to go on.

Watching the retreating figure of Carlos, you found yourself amused and entertained at the sight of Lando's valiant DJing efforts. Another driver who was enjoying his first podium of the year.

You were only moving lightly to the music, waiting for Carlos with little patience. But the sudden cold shiver that had travelled up your body had set the alarms off in your mind. Your throat felt dry at the unfamiliar hand on your shoulder and your body felt uneasy upon looking at the sleazy stranger.

"Hello, sweetheart! How are you doing?" The Australian accent was exceptionally loud over the music and the alcohol reeked, particularly from the beer bottle in his hand.

You winced, trying to keep a fake smile at bay. "Great," you murmured, attempting to move your shoulder away from him but the man's fingers were latched.

"Aw, now don't be like that," he retorted, taking a step closer to you. "Let's dance... get to know each other a little, hmm?"

The hairs of your body stood straight. "I... my boyfriend will be here soon, then we can get to know each other."

You wanted to shrivel into a ball at the sickening laugh that had fallen from the stranger's lips. "Oh, he doesn't need to know anything. Come on, baby," he egged, bottled-hand suddenly finding your waist, "can't you feel how much I want you?"

Bile found it's way up your throat but you managed to keep it down. "No, I don't," you said sharply, "you need to leave."

You tried to move your hands away from him, pushing at his chest, but his grip was only getting tighter, moving down your body in the most repulsing manner. What the hell? Suddenly you felt like you were all alone in this club. Where the hell was everyone?

"She said leave."

You snapped your head to the familiar Spanish voice, relief flooding into your system but only momentarily as the scenario escalated at an unearthly speed.

Your eyes widened, feeling a mix of warm and cold air rush past your body as the stranger was ripped off of you and thrown to the ground. Shit.

You couldn't gather what was even going on. Carlos was straddling the man, pummelling him repeatedly. The music, you think, has stopped. A crowd had formed. Lando and Oñoro had quickly made their way, trying to diffuse the situation.

Your heart skipped a few beats as Carlos took a few hits himself. And the sound of glass shattering bordered on you having a heart attack. Fuck, fuck, this was bad. You could see people pull out their phones, recording, which only baffled you even more.

You aided Oñoro in pulling Carlos away, sucking in a sharp breath at the string of angry curses falling your boyfriend's mouth, moving between English to Spanish. "¡Jodido gilipollas! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? That's my girlfriend, you creep. ¡Nunca la toques con esas asquerosas manos! ¡Te joderé si te vuelvo a ver!" Fucking asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are? That's my girlfriend, you creep. Don't ever touch her with those disgusting hands! I will fuck you up if I ever see you again!"

"Es suficiente, Carlos," you appeased, urging him to stay away as you began to spot the runs of blood down the sides of his face and neck, mixed in with the loose beer. That's enough, Carlos.

You still weren't sure what was going on. You had no idea where Oñoro had gone after sending you and Carlos to your hotel room because, God forbid, Carlos' PR team had a lot of work to do, legally and socially.

Lando had briefly dropped in, grabbing a first aid kid from the hotel staff before leaving with Oñoro.

You quietly watched Carlos walk into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, water covering his body as he had washed off all the beer and blood.

Carlos captured the pained look on your face, eyeing the patches of red skin across his chest and the nicks on his face. He sighed, holding in a wince as he sat next to you. "I'm fine, hermo–"

"You are an idiot," you cut him off, handing him the ice pack you had made from the hotel's materials. "Hold this on your chest, it'll reduce the swelling."

You leaned in the further, trying to take a better look at him. A frown made it's way onto your face. The more you looked, the worse you felt. The red patches on his chest, the bruised cheek, and the worst of all, the horrid gash across his hand.

Carlos carefully watched you chew your lip, tediously grabbing his injured hand, inspecting the wound. The pain which had gotten worse in midst of his shower quickly began to dissipate at your touch. If there was any stinging pain, he couldn't feel it, even when you had cleaned the gash.

"Why didn't you call me?" Carlos queried, breaking the thick silence that had been held over you.

You paused your cleaning, briefly flickering your eyes to his face before quickly averting in the fear you would be sucked up into a whole new problem in those luring brown eyes. Furrowing your brows, you resumed. "I had it under control," you lied with a determined stubbornness.

Carlos laughed softly in amusement before wincing at the stretch of his bruised cheek. He sighed. "I don't doubt that you did," he started, hand reaching out to gently move your chin towards him, "but you should've come and found me. Or even Oñoro or Lando."

You couldn't help but return a sigh, hesitantly putting the antiseptic onto his hand, awaiting any jerking reaction. You realised he was waiting for some sort of response, ignoring any pain shooting up his fingers. "I know," you told him, "I just... froze."

Carlos softened his eyes. "Cãrino... I'm sorry you had to go through that. I-I should've stayed. Are you okay?"

You gave him a pointed look. He had already asked you that, mere seconds after you had pulled him away from the fight. You held back an eye roll at the raised brows Carlos gave you. "I'm fine, Carlos. I'm not the one beat up."

"If I got there any later..." Carlos trailed off, unsure if he was sick or angry at the thought.

You paused, almost falling into the same train of thought but you shook it off. You grabbed the roll of bandage, unravelling the strip of white around his hand. "But you didn't," you reassured, giving him a small smile. Carlos smiled, nodding in agreement.

"Can we exterminate men?"

A laugh quickly fell from your lips at the question. God, how many times have you thought about that one before?

You finished wrapping the bandage, tying a small secure knot before grabbing the ice pack from his other hand. Inching closer to him, you gently pressed the ice on his cheek. "And what about you then?"

Carlos raised a brow, using his free hand to pull you onto his lap. You gasped at the coldness on your waist as waves of cold flushed your body. "I'm excluded from this... obviously."

"Obviously," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "Are you sure though? Because I wouldn't mind it," you teased.

"Really?" Carlos narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to you. "You wouldn't mind no kisses, no hugs, no... touches?"

All of a sudden your throat felt dry at his words. His cold fingers ghosting down the side of your neck with a following trail of goosebumps. And yet you felt hot.

You pretended to ponder for a minute, trying your absolute best to ignore the brown eyes watching you or the fingers grazing your chest. "I think I'm okay with it," you whispered.

Carlos stopped moving his hand and gave you a dry look. "Well I'm not," he childishly retorted before bringing his lips to yours.

His lips were soft as per usual, taking you by surprise with the intensity of this kiss. You could feel his arm tighten around your waist, warmth spreading across your body as his bandaged hand gently held your face.

You were melting at his touch. His tongue was navigating your mouth, consuming your very being. You could feel his hand adjust you on his lap, letting you feel something else entirely.

Carlos' breath hitched at the feel of you hand snaking up his bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where he was aching the most. His hand shot out, covering your own through the towel he was wearing.

You parted from his lips, raising a brow with a panting chest. You could see his lust-ridden eyes, practically begging for you do to do more.

"Take it back."

You mended your brows. What on earth was he... oh.... oh.

With a firm sigh, you relented. "Fine, you won't be exterminated. I guess... it would be hard to live without you."

Carlos grinned, satisfied with your answer. "True... and we would have the hardest job of all."

"And what's that?" You asked, eagerly awaiting his response with perked ears.

Carlos' injury-free hand stretched out, moving your hair behind your ears before grazing past your cheek and landing on your lips. He smiled widely. "To repopulate the earth, hermosa."

You gasped, instinctively hitting his chest. "Carlos!"

The Spaniard dramatically winced at the action, holding his bandaged hand to his chest.

"Mierda," you cursed, "I'm so sorry, cariño." Your eyes darted around, ensuring you hadn't made anything worse.

Carlos tapped your thigh, directing your attention to him. "Can we go back to repopulating the earth now?"

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- The Reveal

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N gets rejected for the sixth time. Max win's the Monaco grand prix 2023. Y/N decides she needs time for herself.

No hate to anyone, it's for the story

{Reader's POV}

I fell asleep crying, a faint buzzing from my phone was heard from the other room. I woke up after a few hours at 3 am when I found my phone which was burning up. The messages hadn't stop coming. They had gotten quite frantic as I scrolled through my notifications. I decided to reply to Max's messages.

He was still the guy I liked, I couldn't not reply. But I was hurt and in no shape to be talking to him. I don't know what Max said after my message because my phone shut down. I pushed myself to clean myself up and my surrounding. I was a stress cleaner and I'm so grateful to having 2 jobs right now. It meant my mind would be preoccupied. I cleaned my whole house before leaving for school in the morning. My eyes were red and puffy; I was on coffee. I had yet to switch my phone on. I wasn't ready to face Max yet.

Today was the worst day, not only because of last night's revelation but I had the least amount of classes today. None of the kids needed help after class either. That meant I was left to my own devices. When I switched the phone on, I could see missed calls and texts from Max and a couple voice messages; from the night before and today morning I guess. I opened up Google to check his schedule; he was in Monaco, which was also his home currently. I found out a lot about him, you think you know someone but then Google tells you otherwise. His dad was as shitty as he described. His records and feats were astonishing and if I wasn't this angry at him for hiding it from me, I would've been so proud and told him so. His Instagram feed was pretty and polished and he posted so much racing content. I found his streaming account with a team, he was exactly like the Max that called me everyday with occasional appearances from the cats on stream. People spoke so rudely about Max, it angered me to no end. He was a kind man, a liar but a sweet man.

The real kicker was Max's girlfriend's account where I found so many pictures of them together with her daughter, from what I found out. He looked happy, he had a family like he always said he wanted. I couldn't help but smile bitterly, a part of me wished that it was me who was the woman beside him with our kid. Life is cruel in some ways, mine is satire at best. Here, I can't date a man because I'm hung up on a guy I've never met before while said man has a family. I felt tears streaming down my face which I quickly wiped them off. I had enough of pity and sympathy stares since the morning to last a lifetime, I can't deal with any more of them.

I knew I wanted to talk to Max, the only guy who has ever understood me, however, I also knew that if we spoke I wouldn't be listening to him. I was scared I would lose the one true friend I have. Would Max understand where I was coming from? Why did he hide this from me? Did he not trust me enough? I get it, but you are a public figure. I don't know how to feel about all of this. It was the weekend tomorrow. I would be left with my thoughts and I probably shouldn't confront Max before his race on Sunday, right?

I spent the next two days planning how I would talk to Max. How I would ask him why he hid everything from me? I didn't want to fight him; my parents always said I was rude and difficult to work with, that my anger consumed me, that my words were harsh. I wasn't supposed to show such negative emotions they said. I didn't want to lose him; but was I allowed to hold on to him when he never let me have him?

Max called and texted me every day but I was very scared, scared of becoming the monster my parents said I was, sacred of hurting the one I love. There I said it, said Max and love in the same sentence. I had threaded that line so carefully but after all of this, I realised that I've loved him for years and watching him be happy with some else hurt as much as knowing that I never truly knew Max. It was Sunday night, I checked the news and saw that Max won. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to rejoice watching the man I love win at what he was best at or be hurt watching him live a life I knew nothing about.

I texted him at night on Sunday, maybe he would be busy celebrating his win, I didn't know. I didn't know a lot of things. As I waited for the text back, I logged on to my emails that I had forgotten about to find a reply from the publication I had sent my work to; to be met with dismay. Another rejection, I'm not sure how many more rejections I could take. My hands shook, making the laptop fall from my lap onto the bed. I got up and got myself a glass of water.

I laid on my bed for god knows how long before the familiar ring of my phone pulled me out of my trance. I had taken the day off tomorrow. I knew I didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with anything. I answered the call to a worried Max.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. Max looked at me confused. Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I could see the colour leave Max's face. He licked his lips before speaking. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? Max was quite, a sort of uncomfortable silence had enveloped us, for the first time in 10 years. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. I felt my voice begin to crack while I spoke, the lump in my throat unbearably big, my breathing was uneven. Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. (I smiled with only my lips) Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. I laughed bitterly. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. (I wiped away my tears) Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I saw tears streaming down Max's face. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And then the screen went black.

[Max spent the whole week worrying about Y/N. He couldn't think straight. This was weird, she was never this busy before. It was stressing him out, he couldn't eat or sleep. He never even thought about the fact that maybe his lie had been exposed. When Y/N texted him, he was at a club in Monaco with the other drivers to celebrate his win. He only saw it after he got back home and immediately called her. She looked different, there was this sadness in her eyes. The smile didn't reach her eyes. And then she started talking, his heart was beating very fast. The moment she said Formula One, his whole world came crashing down. The more she spoke the more he felt like he was falling deeper, in a pit of his own making. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to explain himself but no words left his mouth. Then she started talking about his girlfriend. He felt like this was the last time he would get to talk to her, the last time he would hear her voice. This felt like the last time he would have her]

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How Google’s trial secrecy lets it control the coverage

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

"Corporate crime" is practically an oxymoron in America. While it's true that the single most consequential and profligate theft in America is wage theft, its mechanisms are so obscure and, well, dull that it's easy to sell us on the false impression that the real problem is shoplifting:

https://newrepublic.com/post/175343/wage-theft-versus-shoplifting-crime

Corporate crime is often hidden behind Dana Clare's Shield Of Boringness, cloaked in euphemisms like "risk and compliance" or that old favorite, "white collar crime":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition

And corporate crime has a kind of performative complexity. The crimes come to us wreathed in specialized jargon and technical terminology that make them hard to discern. Which is wild, because corporate crimes occur on a scale that other crimes – even those committed by organized crime – can't hope to match:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/12/no-criminals-no-crimes/#get-out-of-jail-free-card

But anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After decades of official tolerance (and even encouragement), corporate criminals are finally in the crosshairs of federal enforcers. Take National Labor Relations Board general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo's ruling in Cemex: when a company takes an illegal action to affect the outcome of a union election, the consequence is now automatic recognition of the union:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

That's a huge deal. Before, a boss could fire union organizers and intimidate workers, scuttle the union election, and then, months or years later, pay a fine and some back-wages…and the union would be smashed.

The scale of corporate crime is directly proportional to the scale of corporations themselves. Big companies aren't (necessarily) led by worse people, but even small sins committed by the very largest companies can affect millions of lives.

That's why antitrust is so key to fighting corporate crime. To make corporate crimes less harmful, we must keep companies from attaining harmful scale. Big companies aren't just too big to fail and too big to jail – they're also too big for peaceful coexistence with a society of laws.

The revival of antitrust enforcement is such a breath of fresh air, but it's also fighting headwinds. For one thing, there's 40 years of bad precedent from the nightmare years of pro-monopoly Reaganomics to overturn:

https://pluralistic.net/ApexPredator

It's not just precedents in the outcomes of trials, either. Trial procedure has also been remade to favor corporations, with judges helping companies stack the deck in their own favor. The biggest factor here is secrecy: blocking recording devices from courts, refusing to livestream the proceedings, allowing accused corporate criminals to clear the courtroom when their executives take the stand, and redacting or suppressing the exhibits:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-09-27-redacted-case-against-amazon/

When a corporation can hide evidence and testimony from the public and the press, it gains broad latitude to dispute critics, including government enforcers, based on evidence that no one is allowed to see, or, in many cases, even describe. Take Project Nessie, the program that the FTC claims Amazon used to compel third-party sellers to hike prices across many categories of goods:

https://www.wsj.com/business/retail/amazon-used-secret-project-nessie-algorithm-to-raise-prices-6c593706

Amazon told the press that the FTC has "grossly mischaracterize[d]" Project Nessie. The DoJ disagrees, but it can't say why, because the Project Nessie files it based its accusations on have been redacted, at Amazon's insistence. Rather than rebutting Amazon's claim, FTC spokesman Douglas Farrar could only say "We once again call on Amazon to move swiftly to remove the redactions and allow the American public to see the full scope of what we allege are their illegal monopolistic practices."

It's quite a devastating gambit: when critics and prosecutors make specific allegations about corporate crimes, the corporation gets to tell journalists, "No, that's wrong, but you're not allowed to see the reason we say it's wrong."

It's a way to work the refs, to get journalists – or their editors – to wreathe bold claims in endless hedging language, or to avoid reporting on the most shocking allegations altogether. This, in turn, keeps corporate trials out of the public eye, which reassures judges that they can defer to further corporate demands for opacity without facing an outcry.

That's a tactic that serves Google well. When the company was dragged into court by the DoJ Antitrust Division, it demanded – and received – a veil of secrecy that is especially ironic given the company's promise "to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful":

https://usvgoogle.org/trial-update-9-22

While this veil has parted somewhat, it is still intact enough to allow the company to work the refs and kill disfavorable reporting from the trial. Last week, Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – published an editorial in Wired reporting on her impression of an explosive moment in the Google trial:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

According to Gray, Google had run a program to mess with the "semantic matching" on queries, silently appending terms to users' searches that caused them to return more ads – and worse results. This generated more revenue for Google, at the expense of advertisers who got billed to serve ads that didn't even match user queries.

Google forcefully disputed this claim:

https://twitter.com/searchliaison/status/1709726778170786297

They contacted Gray's editors at Wired, but declined to release all the exhibits and testimony that Gray used to form her conclusions about Google's conduct; instead, they provided a subset of the relevant materials, which cast doubt on Gray's accusations.

Wired removed Gray's piece, with an unsigned notice that "WIRED editorial leadership has determined that the story does not meet our editorial standards. It has been removed":

https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/

But Gray stands by her piece. She admits that she might have gotten some of the fine details wrong, but that these were not material to the overall point of her story, that Google manipulated search queries to serve more ads at the expense of the quality of the results:

https://twitter.com/megangrA/status/1711035354134794529

She says that the piece could and should have been amended to reflect these fine-grained corrections, but that in the absence of a full record of the testimony and exhibits, it was impossible for her to prove to her editors that her piece was substantively correct.

I reviewed the limited evidence that Google permitted to be released and I find her defense compelling. Perhaps you don't. But the only way we can factually resolve this dispute is for Google to release the materials that they claim will exonerate them. And they won't, though this is fully within their power.

I've seen this playbook before. During the early months of the pandemic, a billionaire who owned a notorious cyberwarfare company used UK libel threats to erase this fact from the internet – including my own reporting – on the grounds that the underlying research made small, non-material errors in characterizing a hellishly complex financial Rube Goldberg machine that was, in my opinion, deliberately designed to confuse investigators.

Like the corporate crimes revealed in the Panama Papers and Paradise Papers, the gambit is complicated, but it's not sophisticated:

Make everything as complicated as possible;

Make everything as secret as possible;

Dismiss any accusations by claiming errors in the account of the deliberately complex arrangements, which can't be rectified because the relevant materials are a secret.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/09/working-the-refs/#but-id-have-to-kill-you

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

Image: Jason Rosenberg (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/underpants/12069086054/

CC BY https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

--

Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[arlertwhore]

pairing: caitlin clark x fem! reader

synopsis: a lil short thing ab gf caitlin fight-fucking you with her massive arm guns because NOBODY TALKS ABOUT HOW HOT THIS CONCEPT IS??? like pls read i promise you'll become a sick fuck for this shit like i am after.

word count: 471.

author note: two drafts in one night??😫 ovulation was HEAVY when i wrote this one guys ik y'all finna be able to tell LMAO... (i was acc just fantasizing on google docs bruh)

Caitlin loved to fuck you like she was fighting you, asserting her strength.

You were struggling between Caitlin's legs, back against her chest with her bicep flexing tightly beneath your chin, restricting your breath as she held you firmly against her, thrusting her fingers into you with punishing speed.

“Feel good, baby?” she whispered, watching as you desperately clawed at her big arm, moaning breathlessly. “Mmpph! Fuck, I-I can barely breathe, baby, you're so strong," you gasped, looking up at her and sinking your sharp nails into her muscled thighs, feeling a dizzying mix of both pain and pleasure. And in a barbaric attempt to soothe you, Caitlin begins pressing urgent kisses to your jaw and cheek, startling you when she suddenly sinks into your neck predatorily, drawing a cry from your lips before she eases you with gentle suckles.

The sting becomes sharper when she unlatches, smirking against your new hickey as she says, "Wastin' all that breath screamin' and fightin'—better shut you up, huh?" her breath warm against your bruised skin.

The squeeze of her grip becomes tighter and you groan, your hand reaching up to tug on her ponytail as she moves inside of you inhumanly faster, breathlessly urging, "Give me your cum, baby, fuck yeah," at how you begin to writhe, trying to squirm out of her hold, but her strong, muscular legs hunch over your parted ones, keeping you trapped there, forced to endure her wrath.

She's relentless, felt pounding around every inch of your body—toes and nipples tingling, the back of your clenched eyes turning white, mind swirling like you're hypnotized, and tears streaming down your face at how overwhelming she is.

But she's stressing her words like she's really trying to entrance you, firmly commanding, "Give me your cum, c'mon baby, cum for me, please, cum for me." And the squelch and jam of her fingers are embarrassingly audible, gliding smoothly, your juices flowing down her wrist and onto the sheets below you.

The fact you still haven’t tapped out like you usually do is thrilling to Caitlin, the brunette feeding off your pain, hazel eyes drinking you in as you spill out, earning her victory yet again. "Yeahhhh like that, baby, cum on my fingers like that," she encourages proudly—and fuck, you do. Your body convulses uncontrollably, your little legs shuddering beneath her strong ones as she relentlessly bruises your G-spot, moans and ragged breaths escaping you as you surrender and release for her.

Like a pinfall, she releases you instantly and snaps back into girlfriend mode, gently asking, "Are you okay?" while holding you upright by your stomach. You feel spent, and she thinks she’s tired you out for a brief moment before you surprise her by jumping her, pulling her down onto the bed. "My turn," you declare, parting her legs. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: guys did i open your eyes to the vision of fight-fucking?? IF I DID PLS HOP ON MY TRAIN OF CONVINCING OTHER WRITERS TO DO THIS LMAO IM A VIEWER NOW I CAN SAY THAT

[norrizzandpia]

Can you please write exes to lovers angst with lando

Y’all know the way to my heart with these angst requests

A Second Chance (LN4)

Summary: Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

Warnings: lots of fights, language, literal screaming matches, lando breaking y/n’s heart while he’s drunk, this ones hella rough when it comes to angst, whata rollercoaster, HAPPY ENDING THO YALL JUST BUCKLE UP FOR THE RIDE AND TRUST ME

Note: i decided to really play with y’all here because you don’t end up knowing what caused them to breakup until the very end, so enjoy 6,000 words of subtle hints and you on the edge of your seat bc I’m evil 😚

Some things were better left unsaid. That’s the mantra Lando repeated to himself every time he felt the urge to pick up the phone and pour his heart out to the girl he let get away.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Some things are better left unsaid.

He was sick of the words, wanting to rip them out of his mind, out of his mouth every time he uttered their syllables. His thumb laid so close to her phone number, he was frightened one wrong move would make the decision for him.

All he saw, not just in that moment but every moment, was her face as he spewed off words of anger, violent insults that held no truth to them.

He wanted to apologize, yearned to hear her breathing as he said the things he had rehearsed in the mirror for God knows how long. There was blood on his hands, her blood, the blood of her being when he killed her spirit and the character he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t live with that.

Couldn’t live with the knowledge he had destroyed the beauty of her happiness, the beauty of who she had been.

Selfish, maybe, but he called her anyway. Whether the apology was for her or for him, he wasn’t sure, he just needed to know she knew that he never meant for those things to tumble from his mouth. He never meant to tear her down when he had spent the entirety of their relationship building her up.

The ringing sounded, it blaring loudly in the quiet of his room. He stared at her contact photo, he never changed it. The picture was one his friend had taken of her as she gazed upon him at the Silverstone Grand Prix, when he got his podium. She was smiling up, looking at him as if he held her entire life right in the palm of his hands.

She had loved him, put her heart in his hands, and he had thrown it back in her face like he was disgusted by it.

His mind was taken back to the moment when, after one ring, the call went straight to voicemail.

Fuck it, he thought, I’ve already called her once.

So, he tried again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

By the end of his calling spree, he was sitting up in his bed, the sheets falling down his toned chest as he stared at the brightness emitting from his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up why he was only getting one ring.

The answer that popped up stopped the world around him. He threw his phone down to the side, it falling harshly onto the floor. He stormed from his bed, ripping open his door and throwing on a random hoodie strewn about his couch. His eyes glazed over as he tied his shoes and left the apartment, beginning to run. His running was in vain, however, as he was only trying to run from the thing that got him into this situation. Himself.

The phone stayed behind, lingering on the floor with its screen cracked yet still displaying what had set Lando off in the first place.

The Google search engine painfully informed him of Y/n blocking him.

—

“How have you been since the breakup?” Max said softly, looking at his best friend with gentle eyes.

Lando looked down to his lap, “I’m doing fine. Getting by.”

Max’s quietness lingered like he knew something.

“What is it?” Lando asked spitefully, sick of feeling like his loved ones were tip toeing around him.

Max sighed, “You’re not sleeping.”

“How do you know that?”

“Life360 shows me where you’ve gone in the last twenty-four hours, Lando. It also gives me notifications when you leave your house. At first, I wanted to stay out of it, but you’re doing it every night, going to random parks and staying there for hours. What are you doing?”

Lando smacked his hand on the table out of frustration, strangers sat close to them glancing over suspiciously, “So, you’re monitoring me now?”

Max scoffed, “Yeah! Your family and your friends are worried for you.”

“Well, don’t.” Lando gave him a pointed look.

Max shoved his face into his hands, “It’s not that fucking easy, Lando. Everyone thought you two were going to get married. You had a ring. Then, all of a sudden, you two ended. The people that love you are obviously going to be wondering about you when shit like that comes out of left field.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Lando began, face heating up, “You don’t think I look at the engagement ring everyday and wonder where I would be today? Maybe engaged to her like I had always wanted? You don’t think I know this shit? You don’t think I have to live with it, sleep with it, exist with it?”

It dawns on Max as he listens to Lando’s every word, “You’re going for walks in the night? To get away from thinking about it when you’re trying to sleep? Trying to distract yourself?”

Lando’s eyes look down once more, “Running. I’ve been running.”

In a rare form of physical affection, Max leans over and lays his hand over his friend’s, “What happened that night?”

Lando flinches, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His hand is heavy on top of Lando’s as he tries again, “Lando, I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand. What the fuck happened? When are you going to be comfortable talking about it? It’s been five months.”

Something fiery triggers within Lando and Max knows it’s the reminder of how long he’s gone without her, “I know how fucking long it’s been.”

At the gridded teeth and hostile tone, Max relents. He sits back in his chair just when Lando’s gaze is caught behind him. His head turns to see what’s got Lando and he’s met with a woman that looks identical to Y/n.

He breathes out, turning back around to tilt his head at his best friend. Max opens his mouth to say something, but Lando interrupts him by the loud screech of his chair being pushed away from him.

He watches in horror and disappointment as Lando walks over to the woman and begins flirting with her. That smile, which was once reserved only for Y/n, is now exploited to get one singular taste of something like her, however fleeting.

In no time, Lando’s trading numbers with her and returning to the table. He sees the way Max looks at him, an expression that makes him hate himself more, and picks up his things, “If you’re not going to support me, sit across from me and patronize me for everything that’s happened, then I’m fucking out.”

Max laughs in disbelief, “Lando, I don’t know what the fuck happened! Maybe if I did, I could actually help you instead of this fucked up coping mechanism you’ve developed of sleeping with women that look like her.”

Lando snarls at him, stomping off and out of the establishment, texting the new number he’d gained immediately and asking when they were free to come to his apartment.

Max watches him through the window, anger at him dissipating and worry taking over once more for the boy he used to know.

The waitress comes by and drops the check off, three digits staring back at Max.

—

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INVITE HER!” Lando screams at Charlotte, nostrils flaring as he shoots daggers into her soul.

“WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM? CAN’T FUCKING FACE YOU EX OF EIGHT MONTHS?!” Charlotte yells.

Lando counters, “YOU KNOW I FEEL ABOUT HER! HOW I FELT ABOUT HER! I DON’T FUCKING WANT HER IN THE CROWD OF THE NEW CAR LAUNCH!”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, “WELL, GET OVER IT! IT’S HAPPENING!”

“I’M THE DRIVER, I RUN THE SHOW! I SAY SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE, SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE!”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN INVITED, DUMBASS! WE CAN’T RETRACT THE INVITATION NOW. IT WOULD LOOK BAD.”

“I DON’T CARE! FUCK, CHARLOTTE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Spit flies from his mouth, his volume so loud it jostles the walls.

Charlotte, being the strong woman she was and fed up with Lando’s recent behavior, fires back, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S ON THE AUTOMATIC INVITE LIST! YOU KNOW THIS! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”

He lets out a loud grunt, turning around in the room like it’s closing in on him. He’s so in his mind as it suffocates him with memories of her, he steps toward the wall and almost puts his fist through it. However, right before his hand comes in contact, he hesitates.

He can feel Charlotte’s horrified eyes on him as he turns around, chest heaving from the unreleased anger. He can’t fully meet her stare, knowing it’ll break him further.

However, that doesn’t matter as she puts her hands on her hips and whispers, “Who even are you anymore?”

She slams the door on her way out and Lando can hear her lash out at his father, detailing how he needs to get his son in check if Lando wants any kind of continued future in F1. They go back and forth for a moment, Adam standing up for his son in a time where there’s no defending able to be done. His father reminds Charlotte of the relationship she’s cultivated with Lando, reminding her of how she once referred to him as her son, and she’s ready with her heartbreaking answer: he’s not the same person she once knew.

That gives Adam no room to fight back, silence overtaking the atmosphere for a moment before he’s entering the room. Lando sits on one of the many office room chairs, head hanging low as he picks at his fingernails.

Adam sits in the one closest to him, breathing slowly as he tries to gather what he wants to say.

“Lando, what happened that night?” He repeats, reminding him of the countless conversations they’ve had that started with that question and ended with Lando refusing to talk about it.

His son shakes his head, something dying inside Adam once more, “I told you. I’m not talking about it.”

A moment passes before Adam snaps, “Lando! I know you’re hurting and I’m so sorry. But, Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t go on like this forever! This isn’t healthy! She’s not coming back! She’s stopped communicating because she doesn’t want to hear from you! You’re going to need to move on sometime!”

Lando stands abruptly from his seat, his father’s words hitting him hard, “You have no fucking right to say that! You don’t know what’s going through her mind!”

Adam stands to get in his face, “No, but I do know you two were happy, she was happy, and you were in love, and then it was over! People don’t fall out of a love like that if someone didn’t fuck up royally!”

Lando moves to the door, “I don’t want to hear this anymore.”

Adam grabs his arm before he can leave, staring at him with a stone cold gaze, “You keep pushing people away, treating people like shit, and you’ll ruin your career.”

“Who said I even cared about my career anymore?”

—

As much as he hates it, Lando’s eyes immediately search for her once he and Oscar are let into the room. The new car sits under a drape, a crowd of people standing around it, and, even with all the exciting things around him, he looks for the greatest heartbreak of his life.

He wants to see how she is, see if her eyes are as sunken as his are, if her body is as thin as his. Yet, he fails to see her. He knows she’s here, having seen her acceptance of the invitation on the guest list.

He’s being pulled to the front of the room by PR members, their pushes making him stumble into Oscar’s side as he keeps his gaze locked on the sea of people in front of him.

Time goes by slowly, the ceremony moving easily with applause when Oscar and him roll back the material covering the racing car.

They’re in the midst of an interview, microphones held tightly in their hands as they converse with the reporter.

He’s still distracted, his eyes still searching throughout the party to see her, but he’s called back when Oscar nudges his shoulder, “Sorry, what?”

The reporter smiles, “You’ve just gone through a break up and it seems she’s here. Does that say you two ended on good terms?”

He cries of laughter in his head. The idea that they ended on good terms is the funniest thing he’s heard in a while.

He puts on his fake smile, though, nodding strongly like this isn’t a question that has broken his soul, “Yeah! Y/n and I still talk from time to time. She supports me and I support her.”

He feels as if Oscar is staring at him, as if the entire room is staring at him, as he lies through his teeth. Y/n and him haven’t spoken in a year, her having cut off all contact from the very beginning.

The interview continues, nonetheless, with the journalist accepting his answer without question.

Once they’re done, Lando feels sick. Sick of trying to salvage his image, sick of having to appear at these functions, sick of wanting her back and knowing she’ll never let him in again. He excuses himself quickly, mumbling about needing to use the restroom, before dashing off down an empty hallway and locking himself in a stall.

He sits on the toilet, racing suit falling over the edge of the porcelain bowl as he lays his head in his hands.

He breathes heavily, lungs not taking in enough air, and he feels as if the first tears are about to fall when the door opens and the conversation of two men floods through.

“They broke up, you know?” One of the men states as they begin looking at themselves in the mirror, Lando watching them through the cracks of his stall.

The other one nods, seemingly excited, “Yeah, I’ve never been happier. She’s so hot, we finally have a chance.”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together. Who are they talking about?

“I know, mate. I saw her tonight. I think she’s still here. You saw that orange dress she’s in? Hot as fuck. It really does justice to that body of hers.”

Lando grimaces at their words.

However, they continue, revealing more about their topic of conversation this time, “Yeah, one hundred percent. Y/n Y/l/n has never looked better. I saw her walk in and I was ready to fuck her instantly.”

The color drains from Lando’s face when her name slips past their lips, their previous words having an entirely different impact on him now. He sees red at their vulgar words, pulling himself from the stall and walking out with a dangerous, cold air to him.

The two men stop quickly, looking at each other in the mirror when Lando sidles up in between them. Beginning to wash his hands, he makes eye contact with both of them.

“Having a nice conversation here, boys?”

The two of them gulp, clearly nervous at the man’s presence. They say nothing, rather letting Lando continue.

“You know, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’ll get with you two. She has standards and, after being with her for five years, I can tell you: you two aren’t it. Keep dreaming, though, yeah? That’s how I got to where I am now, making millions of dollars a year and such.”

He waltzes out, throwing out the paper towel he had grabbed in the middle of his words and nodding at them.

Suddenly, as he stands in the quiet hallway, his demeanor has shifted. He feels lighter. Consciously, he doesn’t know why, but, subconsciously, he knows it’s because he just asserted his dominance over her, his possession. Reminding the two men of how long he was with her, how long he had her, a duration of time they’ll never see, mended his pain for a minute or two.

It comes back quickly, though, when he turns the corner and runs into the infamous papaya colored dress that had laid on the floor of his bedroom many times before. He halts, so does she, and for a moment, the two of them keep their eyes trained on the other’s clothes, not wanting to look up and face something they aren’t ready to face.

Although, cruelly, that moment inevitably comes and Lando’s breath is taken from his lungs at how radiant she stands before him. His eyes trail over her face, the tape that was once holding his heart together now ripping apart at the sight of her. She seems strong, looking at him in a removed manner, as if she truly isn’t there with him at the moment.

His hand hovers over her bicep, fingers tingling as they plead with him to touch her.

“Hi, Lando.” His name falling from her lips, sounding soft and warm, reminds him of why he knew her coming to this, seeing her, would ruin whatever kind of progress he had developed in the year they’d been apart.

His mouth opens, then closes, and he struggles to get words out as his mind races with all the things he wishes to say. Knowing everything he’s tried to tell her is not meant to be said in a place as open as this, he settles for, “Hi, Y/n.”

She smiles at him, completely different from the fury in her features the last time he saw her, and mumbles out, “How have you been?”

He takes a leap, “Been better.”

She ignores it, “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, but it was nice seeing you!”

Y/n tries to slip past him, but he’s quick to grab her arm. Looking in her eyes as if he’s trying to show her the happy memories that now are too painful to remember, he speaks lowly, “Hear me out.”

She shakes her head, “No, Lando. I’ve been done with us for a year.”

“Have you?” He challenges her, staring down at her and willing her to try again.

She rolls her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Yes.”

“Look at me.”

When she fails to do so, he shakes her arm lightly.

“Look at me.”

And when she does, he tilts his head, leaning down to hover his lips over hers, “Tell me we’re done. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”

“That’s not fair.” She whispers, lips brushing against his.

“Why?”

“Because of what you did.”

He looks on at her, their eyes holding the other’s as they relive the moments of that night. They both know there’s no way for him to counter, no way to fight back or fight for when she throws that in his face. What he did to her, what he said to her, has tarnished the trust she gave to him.

He pulls back, breathing in deep when she rips her arm from his grasp and flees further down the hall.

Watching her disappear behind the door of the restroom, Lando curses himself.

Curses the alcohol, curses that night, curses his words, curses the love they had, curses the memories that won’t leave him alone.

Curses the existence of their relationship entirely.

—

Lando’s never felt confusion of this level before. He stares down at Paige’s, Y/n’s best friend, contact as it calls Lando’s phone.

He hesitantly answers, putting it to his ear slowly, and whispering, “Hello?”

“Lando?” Paige sounds concerned.

Lando shakes his head, attempting to wake himself from the sleep he had just been having, “What’s going on?”

“Y/n is so fucking wasted and, I have no clue what happened between you, but she keeps asking for you. She won’t stop drinking, won’t leave the club, until you get here. I didn’t want to call you, partially because of how late it is and partially because of what’s going on between you two, but, if I’m honest, I’m glad I have an excuse. I’m worried about my best friend and it started when you two broke up.”

By the end of her words, Lando’s already out of his bed and halfway out the door. His keys jingle in his hand as he continues to converse with her, “I’m on my way to pick her up. I’ll be there soon. Just try and keep the drinks out of her hands.”

Before he can hang up, the engine of his car revving to life, Paige interjects, “Lando, one more thing. You’re going to have to let Y/n sleep at your place. She moved out of her apartment a few months ago and has been sleeping on my couch while she finds a new place. But, we have other friends here and I can’t just leave them to make sure she gets into my house.”

Lando nods, “That’s fine, but why’d she move out? She loved it there.”

Paige sighs, “Because she couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere she turned, all she saw was you.”

—

Lando pulls up to the club, its lights bright and music loud as he spots Y/n and Paige waiting on the curb. He gets out, rushing over to them and not loving the way Y/n seems to be hunched over in pain.

Paige pawns her off into Lando’s arms, Y/n melting into them and clinging to him when he holds her softly.

Paige begins to walk back toward the entrance of the club, “Thank you, Lando! You were always someone I could count on to take care of her. Have fun and please, for the love of God, fix whatever is wrong between you.”

At that, she disappears back into the colorful lights and Lando is left with his girl.

She’s mumbling quiet things into his chest, words he can’t make out as he gently lowers her into the passenger seat of his McLaren. When he’s finished buckling her seatbelt and triple checking that she’s secure in the car, he pulls back, but not before she’s grasping his hand and looking up at him with weeping eyes, “I miss you.”

Three words he’s yearned to hear for so long and yet, now, he can’t take them seriously. She’s drunk, she’s blacked out, and she very clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.

This isn’t real.

He knows that.

But, what if it is?

—

When they stumble through his threshold, Y/n bolts to the bathroom. He smiles softly at the way she still, even in her drunken mind, knows exactly the layout of his apartment. Retching emitted from the small room and he’s running over, kneeling down beside her as she empties her stomach into the toilet. His hand rubs up and down her back as the other holds her hair back, whispering sweet and soft words of love in her ear.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m right here.” Knowing she’ll wake up tomorrow and be disgusted by his presence makes the moment even more tender. He knows what will be lost tomorrow, he wants to savor it now.

Her hand moves from the toilet to grasp his shirt, the material hanging from his waist below her. It hurts to feel her touch, to know she seeks comfort in him, but it hurts even more to think of rejecting her, pushing her hand away. So, he lets it rest there, lets it seep into his skin and burn the area, marking it as her own and reminding him there will never be another girl as precious to him as her.

When she’s done, dry heaving the only thing sounding as she lays against the wall behind her, he sits with his legs crossed to the side. His hands rub her thighs as she recovers, and all he can do is stare at her. Her eyes are closed yet he can picture the exact color of them. He memorizes her nose, its upturn and freckles; he memorizes the Cupid’s bow of her lips, the feeling of the plush and soft skin tattooed on his; he memorizes the moles dotted across her neck and the cleavage of her boobs in her dress; he memorizes her arms, their warmth forever ingrained in his brain after Spa 2021 and she was the only thing he needed; he memorizes her legs, and her hands, her hair, the way her eyebrows are shaped, and jawline he’s wished to kiss again.

For it will be gone tomorrow.

—

He’s the first to wake up, thankfully. In case she woke up before him, he slept on the couch, her body taking up his bed for the night. He makes coffee with trembles in his hands as he awaits the moment she wakes up.

And when she does, she storms out of his bedroom, striding into the kitchen still in his t-shirt and sweatpants, the items he dressed her in the night before.

“WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?” She screams at him, hands flailing at her sides as her cheeks redden with anger.

“You got drunk and wouldn’t leave the club until I came and got you, so Paige called me.” He responds calmly, knowing how uncomfortable she must be.

She scoffs, “AND I JUST COINCIDENTALLY HAD TO SLEEP HERE?!”

He shakes his head, “No, Y/n. Paige told me you had to sleep here because she still had to make sure the other girls got home safe. She didn’t have the time to get you back to her place herself.”

She quietens down, looking at him with a distant stare, “Did we fuck?”

He reels back, eyes bulging, “NO! YOU THINK I’D DO THAT WHEN YOU WERE WASTED AND IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WE’RE GOING THROUGH?”

“WE AREN’T GOING THROUGH ANYTHING, LANDO! WE ARE DONE!” She fires back.

“YEAH? THEN, WHY DO WE KEEP SEEING EACH OTHER?”

“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NOT LIKE I’M ASKING FOR IT!”

Lando steps closer to her, taking a deep breath, “Last night, you told me you missed me. Is that true?”

“No.”

It hangs in the air, full of lies and deception.

“Yes, you do.”

She groans, “NO, I FUCKING DON’T! STOP TRYING TO HOLD ON TO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT ANYMORE!”

“WE WERE IN LOVE, Y/N! I KNOW YOU STILL LOVE ME IN THE WAY I DO!”

Her hands shoved at his chest, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “THAT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU SAID TO ME!”

Unwillingly, Lando is taken back to the night that ruined it all. Refreshing his memory horrifically.

A YEAR EARLIER

Y/n chuckled as she threw Lando onto the couch, his drunken body landing in an awkward position.

“I’ll be right back, Lan. I’m just going to get you some water.”

He nodded, groaning at the swirling in his stomach. He heard her clank around in the kitchen, getting up and wandering off toward the sound.

When he reached her, he was very quickly overcome with desire and lust for his girlfriend. He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her back to him. He began kissing her neck, spit and slobber coating the skin in an uncomfortable way.

Y/n dodged him, “Lan, baby, I love you, but you’re really wasted right now.”

He hummed, “It’s fine, Y/n.”

He tried to kiss her again, but she slid out from his hold, “No, Lando. Plus, I’m not in the mood.”

He reached out for her, but she moved too quickly for his drunken mind. He groaned in frustration, “Y/n!”

“Lando!” She gave right back, shaking her head at his antics as she continued to fill up his water.

When she gave him nothing as he stared at her expectantly, he said the first thing that came to his foggy mind, “Fine, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”

She giggled, not fully hearing what he was saying, “Sorry, what?”

“I said, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. I’ll just go into my Instagram messages and find someone better, it’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

He saw the way she slowly turned her head to him, “Lando, what are you say-”

He interrupted her, “Who do you think I should look out for? Someone with a bigger ass than yours? Or maybe with bigger boobs? How about skinnier? Or perhaps with a prettier face?”

She just stood and stared at him, the glass in her hands slowly slipping from her grip, “What the fuck?”

He laughed at her, “Come on, Y/n!” He pulled out his phone, waving it in her face, “Who should I look out for as a replacement for the girlfriend who won’t fucking do shit for me?”

Her hip popped out, his demeanor change blindsiding her, “Why are you saying these things?”

He huffed as he slurred, “Because you’re a fucking shit girlfriend! I’ve put up with it for years, your inadequacy to fulfill me! I’m fucking done. I’m over not being satisfied in everything we do. You aren’t attractive to me anymore, you aren’t funny anymore to me, you just don’t do it for me anymore. Someone, I know, can surely be better than you.”

His words were malicious and hot on his tongue as if he had been waiting to say them. The glass, like her heart, slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet. Shards littered the floor, cutting her bare feet, as Lando began laughing at her, “Oh, perfect! And, now, you can’t fucking hold a glass! Fucking pathetic.”

He waltzed out of the room, as if everything was fine and retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.

There, as she stood in the middle of a wet pool of glass, she cried.

Cried for the pain in her feet; cried for the man she loved; cried for the death of her confidence; and cried for the love that had just been ruined.

PRESENT TIME

Lando remembers waking up that next morning without her beside him, and being utterly confused. That was until he read the text message in which she reminded him of the things he said to her, informing him they were over, she wouldn’t look at his face ever again, and she was already on a plane away from Monaco, to not chase her.

He had never been given the chance to explain to her just how drunk he had been that night, how his words weren’t really his.

“I DIDN’T MEAN WHAT I SAID TO YOU!” He yelled in her face, trying desperately to get through to her.

“DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS, HUH?” She argued, hands pushing against his arms.

“ARE ROOFIED WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS?”

She stopped, taking a step back and staring at him. She was quiet, looking up at him with a newfound curiosity, “What?”

“I was drugged that night, Y/n.” He responded, finally allowing for the truth to come out.

Her eyes softened, looking up at him with the love he knew was within her. She walked back to him, closer this time, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, “Are you okay?”

Testing boundaries, he laid his hands on her waist and when she didn’t protest, he leaned into her fully.

“When I woke up that morning, I had a really hard time reading your text. I got through it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I genuinely felt like I couldn’t see. My vision was fucked. I got up, I wanted to go to the kitchen and drink some water, but my legs gave out under me and I fell to the floor. I struggled to walk, my head ached in a way I never knew was possible, and I puked all over the floor of my bedroom. I, obviously, knew something was seriously wrong, so I called Jon. He came and helped me into his car. I must’ve been pretty removed because he tells me, to this day, that I was mumbling things about you leaving me, shit I don’t remember ever saying. But, anyways, he drove me to the hospital and they did a shit ton of tests. The drug test, that’s how we found out I was drugged with Rohypnol, a roofie. They helped get it out of my system, but I was pretty fucked up for the next few days. And, then, when I truly came to about a week or so later, I realized the gravity of what happened between us, but, obviously, by that point, it was too late.”

His explanation left Y/n feeling slightly guilty. She had been with him that night, it was her job to make sure he was safe as she promised him she would be his designated driver, the sober one.

“Do you know who did it?” She asked to which he shook his head.

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from that night.”

He saw it in her eyes, “Y/n, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

Her eyes watered, “But, I should’ve known what you were saying to me wasn’t you, or even drunk you. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should’ve given you time to explain.”

He nodded his head to each side, “Maybe, but what I said to you was horrific. Of course, you left me.”

She separated herself from him, walking into the living room as she cried. He sat down next to her on the couch, her tears soaking the shirt she wore as she struggled to gain her breath.

He pulled her into him once more, “Y/n, it’s okay. Your actions are justified.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not that. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s mostly the fact that I spent this past year thinking you never really loved me. What you said to me that night, I’ve never forgotten it and I just spent so much time berating myself for thinking, for five years, you loved me back. I degraded myself over something that was completely manipulated.”

He laid his head on hers as he nodded softly, “I’m so sorry. If it’s worth anything, I truly did love you all five years. I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”

She pulled back, hands on his chest as she stared at him, “I still love you even if those words still haunt me.”

“Don’t let them, please. The fact that they came out of my mouth is enough. Don’t let them have any kind of value. You were and are the love of my life. There’s no one like you, Y/n. No one who could be better suited for me. You are more than enough for me. You’ve satisfied me in every part of our relationship. What I said that night, it couldn’t be farther than the truth. I could never fall out of love with you ever. There is no one I want to take up the other part of my bed than you.”

She wiped her tears, “What about those girls you were seen with this past year?”

He shook his head, “Didn’t hold a candle to you. Not my finest moment, baby. I’m sorry for it.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize for trying to move on, I just want to make sure you’re in this with me.”

He threw his head back, “Of course, I am. I’ll always be all in if you are too.”

She lightly smiled at him, returning to her spot against his chest as he laid them back against the cushions.

They laid there with each other, in silence, until the afternoon. Something that was once broken, now whole. Something that was once destined to end, now beginning again. Something that was once messy and complicated, now clear. Something that was once mistrusted, now fully capable of any challenge.

Maybe Lando could put that engagement ring to use now.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂

description: ona was finally where she had dreamed, she was back at barcelona with her best friend and loving every moment. only problem? she's dating her captain's younger sister, you.

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ona batlle x putellas!reader

part of the 'hidden' universe

part two here

part three here

mapi leon x bronze!reader here

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive - cuteness, queenie needing to use google translate because her Spanish is sub par! x

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y/n just posted

liked by alexiaputellas, taylorswift, and 13.9m others

y/n life dumppppp 💕💕

comments limited

alexiaputellas: Estoy muy orgulloso de ti hermanita!

so proud of you baby sister

^

y/n: ily !! 💕

lucybronze: The little one of me says you're cool!

^

y/n: tell her I miss her! 😔

blanca_suarez: my little daughter! 🙂

^

y/n: my movie mama!! 😙

florencepugh: I wanna see the photos of after you did that jump

^

y/n: shut up 😩

^

florencepugh: no

^

y/n: I'll fight you Flo

^

florencepugh: come at me pipsqueak !!

ona.batlle: Looks like fun ! 😌

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y/n: Would be more fun with you here ;)

^

alexiaputellas: y/n, no flirting with my teammates.

^

y/n: awwww :(

MariaLeonn16: MISS YOU ! 💙

^

y/n: MISS BAGHEERA MORE 💙

^

MariaLeonn16: hmmpf.

see more comments...

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y/n hummed as she stepped around her kitchen, her fluffy socks keeping her feet warm from the cold tile, which was cold as she couldn't be bothered to put the heated floor on.

Her Persian cat, Milo, rubbed against her feet and she smiled, bending down to pick him up and press a kiss to his fluffy head before placing him back down.

y/n then moved over to the bowl of food she had ordered, smiling when her phone lit up with the familiar name which kept her warm for almost a year now.

"Hi baby!" y/n smiles, her Spanish accent not as thick as it used to be when she spoke English.

y/n had been in England for a few years now, on and off, and due to the fact she mainly spoke in English and acted with either English or Americans, y/n's accent had dulled slightly.

"Hola!" Ona called back.

The two had been secretly dating for nearly a year now. Why secretly? Because Ona's captain was Alexia Putellas. Alexia Putellas was y/n's sister. Her over-protective older sister.

The two were aware they were nothing short of fucked. They were aware of that. But the two had fallen in love while Ona was playing in Manchester and at the time, they couldn't keep away.

Now, their relationship existed of long phone calls and sneaky hook-ups when y/n came to see her as best she could, as well as trying to avoid flashing cameras and nosy people.

Truth is the only other person to know about them was Lucy Bronze's younger sister, and that was only because Ona and her were best friends and she was dating Mapi Leon in secret as well. They really were a group.

"How was training?" y/n asks Ona as she settles on the sofa, propping the phone up on a few cushions as she bought her bowl of noodles toward her.

"Aburrida, todo en lo que estaba pensando era en ti mi amor." Ona sighs and y/n chuckles.

Boring. All I was thinking about was you my love.

"Eres tan romántica!" y/n laughs at her girlfriend.

you're such a romantic.

"Do not pretend you do not love it, mi amor." Ona says and y/n hums.

"Well, I do love feeling the way you make me feel." y/n sighs jokingly and Ona's smile widens. "But, you should be paying attention in training." y/n finishes and Ona huffs.

"Ay! You are worse than Ale!" Ona states and y/n sighs. "What are you eating?" Ona then asks, trying to get the focus off of Alexia.

"Wagamama." y/n grinned, Milo jumping next to her and curling onto the sofa, his head resting on y/n's thigh.

"Milo." Ona cooed, the cat looking up and letting out a small meow as he blinked at Ona.

"Look, it's mama Milo." y/n says softly, placing her fork down to stroke at the cat's head. Ona smiles softly as Milo meows, Ona chuckling as she moves to get Coco, her own dog who pants excitedly at the sight of Milo.

Despite being and cat and a dog the two pets got on like siblings and y/n couldn't help but smile as Milo purred at the sight of his sibling.

The two facetimed for the rest of the evening, settling into bed a few hours later, both watching each other on their screens, wishing they were face to face instead of watching through a camera.

"What are you thinking about Amor?" Ona asks softly, noticing y/n had gone quiet.

"Quiero contarle a Ale sobre nosotras." y/n said quickly.

I want to tell Ale about us.

"¿Cómo? No no no no no." Ona begins and y/n sighs.

what?

"I know you're afraid." y/n begins. "¡Pero cariño, por favor! No puedo ocultar esto más."

But darling please, I can't hide this anymore.

"But Alexia!" Ona tries.

"I'll talk to her! Explain everything." y/n tries and Ona pauses. "Please Ona, I'm so sick of us hiding." She begs softly.

"Okay. Okay." Ona promises. "Por ti, mi amor, enfrentaré la tormenta Alexia por ti." She nods and a soft smile grows on y/n's face.

For you, my love, I will brave the storm Alexia for you.

"Thank you." y/n whispers. "I love you Ona." She promises and Ona smiles.

"I love you too amor." Ona promises.

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y/n just posted on her story

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y/n smiled softly as she opened Alexia's apartment with her spare key. Now on international break, the Barcelona captain was at home resting before having to go to national camp in three days.

At the sound of her door opening, Alexia stood up, pausing the most recent Barcelona game she was re-watching for notes and faced her door worriedly before her mouth dropped.

"¡Niñera!" Alexia called in shock.

Baby sister

"Hola Ale!" y/n called, pulling her suitcase to a stop as Alexia raced over. The taller girl pulling her into a tight hug which made y/n chuckle as she returned it.

"¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" Alexia asked. "Ven, siéntate, ¿tienes hambre, sed?" Alexia rapidly questioned making y/n smile as her sister dragged her to the sofa.

What are you doing here? Come sit down, are you hungry, thirsty?

"Estoy bien, vine a ver los partidos de la liga de naciones." y/n explains.

I'm fine, I came to watch the nation league games.

Alexia makes a noise of understanding as she leans over and presses kisses over y/n's face, exclaiming how happy she was to see her and how beautiful she looked.

y/n laughed it off, telling her she was always too flattering to her, Alexia saying it was what an older sister did. The statement wracking y/n with guilt.

"Ale." y/n began. Alexia looking at her with furrowed brows, confused at her sister's shift in tone.

"Are you okay?" Alexia asks softly.

"I'm dating someone." y/n spills out. "And, hemos estado saliendo durante más de un año." y/n admits.

And we've been dating over a year.

"Oh." Alexia says softly, eyes softening as her sister ducks her head, fiddling with her fingers. "It's okay." She promises.

"Even if I hid it?" y/n asks quietly.

"I would like you to explain why for so long and who, but yes it is okay." Alexia promises.

"The who kind of explains the why." y/n admits and Alexia pauses. "Ale." She begins.

"Who?" She asks, though it was far more a demand. She repeats her demand.

"Ona." y/n says ducking her head.

"Hijo de puta." Alexia mutters.

motherfucker

y/n sighed, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands and her shoulders sagged. Her heart felt as if it was pushing into her throat and it made her sick.

y/n and Alexia had been close as children, the three sisters were best friends, and knew each other too well. They told each other everything, to the point where this would be the first time she had ever lied to either sister.

And even though she felt terrible for upsetting her older sister, for betraying her, there was something so relieving about finally admitting it.

Slowly, Alexia reached out and place a hand on y/n's shoulder, her warm and calloused palm so much kinder than what y/n felt she deserved as she looked up.

"No puedo negarlo y decir que no estoy herido, porque lo estoy. Preferiría que me lo hubieras dicho, pero entiendo que no quieras." Alexia begins, her voice soft.

I cannot deny and say I am not hurt, because I am. I would rather you had told me, but I understand you not wanting to.

y/n could have cried as she closed her eyes, feeling so guilty at hurting her sister with something that she couldn't have helped.

"¿La amas?" Alexia asked, her eyes full of understanding and kindness which calmed y/n's heart.

Do you love her?

"Más de lo que creía posible Ale. Ella lo es todo para mí, de verdad." y/n admits to her sister who lets out a sigh at the emotion in her voice.

More than I thought possible Ale. She's everything to me, truly.

Alexia sighed and wrapped her arm around y/n's shoulders, pulling her into her side as she lent her head onto y/n's own one, inhaling the smell of her shampoo.

"Entonces de acuerdo." Alexia sighs softly.

Then okay.

y/n's heart broke at that, how one person could be so good to her was beyond her thought, beyond her idea of humanity, but Alexia had once again, proved her wrong.

"Eres demasiado amable conmigo, eres demasiado amable conmigo." y/n repeats at her sister.

You are too kind to me, you are too kind to me.

"Esto no es bondad, esto es familia." Alexia says to her and y/n sighs.

This is not kindness, this is family.

The girl turns, wrapping her arms around her sister as she pulls herself snugly on-top of Alexia, clinging to her shoulders as she pressed kisses into the woman's hair.

"Thank you Ale." y/n said softly, repeating the words again and again.

"Oh mi pequeña princesa del drama. Eres tan mayor ahora." Alexia said softly.

Oh my little drama princess. You are so grown up now.

y/n said nothing, just continued to cling to Alexia as if she was 6 all over again and Alexia 14. The Barcelona captain couldn't help but enjoy the closeness.

It had been so long since they had hugged like this, the youngest Putellas always so busy, always moving, working and filming.

Eventually the two parted and Alexia sighed tucking a strand of her sister's hair behind her ear as she watched her.

"Do you and Ona plan to tell?" Alexia asks and y/n hums.

"I want to tell your team first, then we can think about everything else." y/n sighs. "Are you mad at her?" She then asks with a wince.

"Oh furious." Alexia nods, a smile on her face to show she wasn't really. "She treats you well?" She then asks and y/n smiles softly.

"She loves me just as I do her." y/n answers and Alexia smiles.

"So she loves you well." Alexia says and y/n nods. "Do you want to see her?" She asks and y/n hums.

"Tomorrow." y/n says before snuggling into her sister's side. "I want to spend the night with you." She says.

"I love that idea." Alexia sighs, pressing a kiss into her sister's hair.

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Tomorrow came far too quick for y/n's liking, before she knew it she was stood at Ona's door, flowers in hand as she waited for the patter of her lover's footsteps to open the door.

"¡Mi amor!" Ona yelled in shock, dragging y/n inside so no prying eyes could see.

y/n's hair was up in a bun, she was wearing a sweet summer dress due to how hot it was outside, however she also had shorts on underneath, because she knew what could happen once Ona knew they were out.

Ona smiled softly, taking the flowers from y/n's hands and placing them on the counter, before jumping at y/n. The woman sighed in relief, bringing Ona's legs around her waist as she wrapped her arms tightly around her.

"Oh my love." y/n said softly, breathing in the sweet scent of Ona's hair.

Ona buried her head into y/n's neck, pressing soft kisses against the skin which had y/n breathing shaking as she walked them to the sofa, sliding her shoes off as she went.

Coco immediately moved over to one of her discarded trainers and stuck his head in it, inhaling which made y/n roll her eyes at the dog fondly.

y/n sat back against the sofa, Ona quickly looking up and greedily connecting their lips, hands scattering around each other's bodies, re-familiarising themselves.

Ona's tongue dipped past y/n's lips, sweeping the inside of her mouth which caused a groan to slip from her. Ona giggled into the kiss, before they pulled away, both breathing deeply as they stared at one another.

Ona was in a white shirt, black shorts, her hair was pulled back and she looked like she had woken up just an hour ago. And to y/n, she had never looked more beautiful.

All their time apart meant these moment, Ona sat on her lap, hands combing over her shoulders lovingly, were all that more precious to y/n.

"How are you here?" Ona asked her softly, leaning forward to cuddle into her chest as y/n wraps her arms around her.

"He venido a ver los partidos." y/n explains softly.

I've come to watch the games.

"I'm so glad you're here." Ona sighs in relief, y/n holding onto her as she sighs.

"I have a confession Ona." y/n says softly and Ona sits up, y/n moving her off her lap and to the side she could face her.

"Amor?" Ona asks, worry flooding her voice.

"Ale knows." y/n says simply. "I told her." She adds.

Ona's face goes through several emotions, relief that this wasn't a break-up, fear of Alexia knowing, realisation that her captain was no aware and hurt that y/n hadn't warned her she would tell Alexia like that.

"Why?" Ona asks sadly.

"Because I want to be with you. In front of her." y/n says strongly and Ona's eyes fill with panic. "It's like we discussed Oni, please." y/n tries.

"Get out." She says softly. "Please go." Ona repeats.

"You said you would fight for me." y/n said softly.

"You didn't give me time to prepare." Ona tells her. "Alexia is my captain, and I am with her little sister, and instead of telling her together, you decided to tell her on you own." Ona continues.

"Because I knew I could keep her calm about us." y/n promises and Ona sighs.

"Please go. I need some time." Ona says softly and y/n blinks away tears before standing up and walking to the door, expecting Ona to call out, stop her. But she doesn't.

And y/n's heart breaks.

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END

Mapi part one will be out in three days ;) xox