#sits back and waits for the unfollows

[foxtrology]

bette davis eyes (2)

harry castillo x reader

series

word count: 9.1k

warnings: no y/n, 28 year age gap, female reader, fluff, smut.

Harry Castillo still didn’t know her name.

And it was driving him insane.

It had been three days.

Three days since he sat on the steps of The Met, seething over Lucy’s engagement only to stumble into a conversation with the most aggravating woman he had ever met.

Three days since she stepped out of his car.

"If you find me again, maybe I’ll say yes."

He had taken it as a challenge.

Of course he did.

He had spent years making impossible things happen. He had turned himself into one of the richest hedge fund managers in the country. He dictated the movement of money on Wall Street with a flick of his wrist. People waited months to get a meeting with him.

When he wanted something, he got it.

But he still didn’t know her goddamn name.

He had spent hours.

Hours, going through his friends’ Instagram followings, convinced that she had to be in there somewhere. She had been outside that party on those steps. That meant she knew someone.

Right?

Wrong.

Instead, all he got was accidentally following half a dozen people he didn’t even like and no clue how to unfollow them.

"You could just Google it," Danny had suggested, watching as Harry scrolled through Instagram with the confusion of a man trying to defuse a bomb.

"I shouldn’t have to Google basic fucking technology," Harry snapped.

Danny had just laughed. "This is why Lucy did everything for you."

Lucy.

Right.

Harry shut his phone off and tossed it onto the table like it had personally offended him.

He needed to let this go.

She was just a stranger.

A nobody.

But...

She wasn’t.

She was somebody, at least to him. Someone who had looked at him like he wasn’t some billionaire hedge fund manager but just a man sitting on the steps of The Met, sulking about his ex.

And that was risky.

Because for the first time in a long time he wanted to know more.

She was balancing a tray when she spotted him.

Harry Castillo.

Sitting at the corner of the high end Manhattan restaurant she was currently serving at, looking like he would rather die than be here.

Her grip on the tray tightened. No fucking way.

She had spent the last three days assuming she would never see him again.

Rich men didn’t go looking for strangers they met outside of parties. Not unless they had some weird obsession or a savior complex. And he didn’t seem like the type.

Yet, here he was.

Dark suit. Sharp jaw. Brooding like the miserable, wealthy asshole she suspected he was.

And worst of all—he didn’t see her.

Not yet.

She had to get out of here before he did.

Her name tag was visible.

If he saw it, if he recognized her—

"Table six, go," her manager barked, pointing toward the very table Harry was sitting at.

Fuck.

She briefly considered quitting her job on the spot. Just throwing her apron at the nearest wall and storming out.

But unfortunately, she had rent to pay.

So with a deep inhale, she straightened her shoulders, gripped the tray tighter, and walked straight toward him.

Harry wasn’t paying attention.

Not to the menu. Not to his surroundings.

His mind was still back in his office, replaying every attempt he had made to find her.

And failing.

His phone buzzed. Another news notification. Probably some article about the market or a New York Times op-ed about billionaires ruining the economy. He didn’t care.

Then—

A shadow passed over him.

Someone setting a drink down.

And before he even looked up—before his brain even processed it—he heard her voice.

“Whiskey neat.”

His head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

And there she was.

Standing right in front of him.

His breath hitched.

Her.

Her.

His eyes flicked to her name tag, sharp and laser focused.

Finally.

She saw where he was looking and immediately reached for it, ripping the tag off with a sharp tug before shoving it into her pocket.

“Not a chance,” she said, shaking her head.

His lips twitched.

“Afraid?”

“Of you?” She snorted, shifting the tray in her hands. “Not even a little.”

He exhaled, leaning back in his chair.

“You work here.”

She raised a brow. “Clearly.”

“You were at the Met party.”

“I was working the Met party.”

Realization dawned.

She wasn’t a guest. She wasn’t friends with anyone there.

She was a server.

A server.

Harry’s fingers tapped against the edge of his glass.

He didn’t know why that made something settle inside him. Maybe because it explained why she hadn’t given a shit about who he was. Maybe because it meant she wasn’t part of his world, wasn’t another socialite or heiress looking for an investment banker to marry.

Maybe because it meant that night was real.

“You’ve been looking for me.”

It wasn’t a question.

His eyes lifted to hers.

She was smirking.

She was amused.

And he hated how much he liked that.

Harry exhaled slowly. “Maybe.”

“Well. Now you found me.”

He studied her.

The restaurant bustled around them. The clink of glasses, the low hum of conversation, the scent of expensive wine and seared steak filling the air.

But none of it mattered.

Not when she was standing in front of him, arms crossed, head tilted, watching him like he was the one on display.

He reached for his drink, swirling the liquid before taking a slow sip.

Then—

“Have dinner with me.”

She blinked.

Paused.

Then laughed.

Again.

Like he had just told the funniest joke in the world.

Again.

“You really don’t like being told no, huh?”

His jaw ticked. “That’s not an answer.”

She tilted her head. “What do you think I’m gonna do? Take off my apron and sit down at your table? I’m working, Castillo.”

The way she said his name made something tighten in his chest.

Harry leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Then when do you get off?”

Her lips twitched.

“You gonna wait here all night?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

She exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

A pause.

“Fine.”

Harry’s brows lifted.

Her eyes flicked to the clock on the restaurant wall before settling back on him.

“I’m off in an hour.” She turned, already walking away. “Let’s see if you’re still here by then.”

He watched her go.

Watched as she weaved through tables, balancing drinks, chatting with customers, completely at ease.

And for the first time in three days—

He felt at ease.

Because this time, she wasn’t getting away.

Harry wasn’t a patient man.

He had built an empire on control, on precision, on the ability to anticipate movements before they happened. That was how he stayed ahead, how he won.

Yet here he was, sitting at a table in an upscale Manhattan restaurant waiting for a woman who barely spared him a second glance.

A woman whose name he still didn’t know.

He leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass, watching as she moved effortlessly through the restaurant.

She was good at her job.

Efficient, quick on her feet, balancing trays with ease.

And she smiled at customers.

Not the way she had smirked at him earlier. Not with that sharp edged amusement that made something itch beneath his skin.

No, these smiles were polite. Professional. A little forced, maybe, but nothing that suggested she was even remotely bothered by his presence.

It annoyed the hell out of him.

Because he was bothered.

She had been stuck in his head for three days.

And here she was, acting like their encounter meant nothing.

Like he meant nothing.

It was infuriating.

And intriguing.

And maybe—just maybe—exactly what he needed.

His fingers tapped against the rim of his glass.

An hour.

He could wait an hour.

Hell, he had waited longer for board meetings that didn’t even matter.

So he settled in.

And watched.

She could feel his eyes on her.

The weight of his gaze followed her everywhere.

She ignored it.

Or at least, she pretended to.

Because if she acknowledged it, if she met his gaze, if she let herself wonder why he was still sitting there—then she would have to admit that she cared.

And she didn’t.

Not really.

Not about Harry Castillo.

Not about his perfectly tailored suit or the way his dark eyes followed her every movement like she was some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve.

Not about the way her heart had kicked up just a little when she realized he had actually been looking for her.

Nope.

Didn’t care.

Not at all.

She refilled a wine glass at table twelve, smiled at a group of finance bros who didn’t deserve it, dodged her coworker carrying a tray of desserts, and did not look at the man still sitting at table six.

But she could feel him.

And it was driving her crazy.

Harry was losing his mind.

Every time she passed his table without sparing him a glance, something inside him tightened.

This was ridiculous.

He didn’t wait for people.

People waited for him.

He could leave right now. Get up, walk out, and be done with this whole thing.

But he wouldn’t.

Because she had said one hour.

And he was going to make sure she kept her word.

His phone buzzed.

He ignored it.

Buzzed again.

Danny.

Danny: Why are you ignoring my texts?

Danny: Did you figure out how to unfollow people yet or are you still stuck?

Danny: Are you seriously still looking for that girl?

Danny: …You are, aren’t you?

Danny: I hate you.

Danny: Text me when you’re done being pathetic.

Harry rolled his eyes and slid his phone facedown on the table.

The hour crawled by.

And then—

Finally—

She walked back toward his table.

Apron off. Jacket on. Bag slung over one shoulder.

Her shift was over.

And Harry sat up a little straighter.

“You actually waited.”

She didn’t sound surprised.

More amused.

Like she had expected him to wait but still found it funny.

He lifted a brow. “You said an hour.”

“And you’re a man who listens?”

“I can be.”

She huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Dangerous skill.”

Harry smirked. “You have no idea.”

She rolled her eyes, but he caught the way her lips twitched.

It wasn’t a no.

Wasn’t a go home, Castillo.

It was something else.

Something better.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “So?”

“So.”

“What now?”

Harry exhaled, watching her carefully.

She was testing him.

Waiting to see if he was serious.

If he was worth the trouble.

And Harry Castillo never backed down from a challenge.

“Dinner,” he said simply.

She arched a brow. “You just ate.”

“You were working. I don’t eat alone.”

She crossed her arms. “That’s a dumb rule.”

He shrugged. “It’s my rule.”

She stared at him for a long moment.

Then—

“Fine.”

A single word.

But it sent something sharp and victorious rushing through his chest.

He stood, pulling a few crisp hundreds from his wallet and tossing them onto the table without a second glance.

She eyed the money but didn’t say anything.

Just turned on her heel and walked toward the door.

Harry followed.

The wind cut sharp against his skin as they stepped out onto the Manhattan sidewalk, the world around them alive with the hum of the city at night. A taxi honked a block away, a couple laughed as they passed, and the crisp scent of winter curled into the air.

She shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her body.

Harry didn’t shiver.

He barely felt the cold.

His eyes flicked toward her, noting the way she huddled into herself slightly, as if suddenly self conscious. She had been confident inside the restaurant sharp, unbothered, teasing—but now, beneath the glow of the streetlights, something in her had shifted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She scoffed. “You think I’m just gonna tell you that?”

His jaw twitched.

She was impossible.

And yet, somehow, he found himself waiting for her answer anyway.

She sighed, exhaling into the cold air. “It’s just…I just got off a shift. I’m not exactly dressed for whatever expensive place you’re about to drag me to.”

Harry blinked.

Then looked her over.

Dark jeans. A fitted black sweater. Scuffed up ballet flats.

She looked fine.

Better than fine.

She looked real.

She looked like her.

And that, he realized, was the problem.

She didn’t belong in his world.

Didn’t fit into the mold of women he was usually seen with.

She wasn’t draped in designer. She didn’t have a last name people recognized. She didn’t float through life with the quiet, effortless privilege of someone born into money.

But she was still the most interesting person he had met in years.

And that was dangerous.

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “I don’t care.”

She blinked up at him.

“What?”

“I don’t care what you’re wearing.”

She hesitated.

Her eyes searched his, looking for—what? Lies? Pity? Some hidden agenda?

She wouldn’t find any of those.

He had none to give.

Instead, he tilted his head. “Are you hungry or not?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just worked a ten hour shift. What do you think?”

His lips twitched.

Without another word, he turned and started walking.

And after a beat—she followed.

To her surprise, Harry didn’t take her somewhere suffocatingly high end.

No pretentious Michelin starred establishment. No reservations only steakhouse with white tablecloths and chandeliers worth more than her apartment.

God, her roommate was in for a treat when she gets home.

Instead, they ended up at a cozy, tucked away bistro on a quiet side street. The kind of place that didn’t have a dress code. The kind of place where people actually talked instead of posing for Instagram photos.

She narrowed her eyes as she followed him inside. “How do you even know about a place like this?”

Harry didn’t answer.

Of course he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled out a chair for her like some old fashioned gentleman and waited for her to sit.

She hesitated, lips twitching in amusement. “Wow. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

He ignored that too.

She sat.

He took the seat across from her.

A waiter appeared almost instantly.

Harry ordered whiskey.

She ordered a glass of wine.

She knew her wine, he'll give her that.

And then—for the first time since they met—there was silence.

Not uncomfortable silence.

But silence nonetheless.

She leaned back in her chair, watching him.

Harry was hard to read.

Brooding. Intense. Reserved.

The kind of man who looked like he had a thousand thoughts running through his head but no intention of saying any of them out loud.

The kind of man who could crush someone with a single, well calculated decision in his office during the day and then sit across from her in a dimly lit restaurant at night like none of it mattered.

She tapped her fingers against the table. “So, are you gonna ask me anything? Or are we just gonna sit here and stare at each other?”

Harry’s brow lifted slightly.

“I don’t ask questions I don’t care about the answers to.”

She blinked.

Then huffed out a small laugh. “Jesus. You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine.

He watched her over the rim of his own glass, studying the way she moved.

She wasn’t nervous.

She wasn’t trying to impress him.

And he hated how much he liked that.

She started talking first.

Not because he asked.

But because she wanted to.

“So, what do you think I do?” she asked, resting her chin on her hand.

Harry took a slow sip of whiskey. “You’re a server.”

She smirked. “Wow. Good job, detective.”

His jaw twitched. “That’s not a real question.”

“Fine. How long have I been doing it?”

He studied her.

Noticed the way she held herself, the way she had moved through the restaurant earlier, the way she hadn’t hesitated when her manager snapped at her.

“Years,” he said simply.

Her smirk faltered.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Since I was nineteen.”

Something flickered in her eyes.

Something he didn’t understand.

Didn’t push.

But still—he noticed.

She exhaled, rolling her wine glass between her fingers. “It wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

Harry’s fingers drummed against the table. “It never is.”

She lifted a brow. “You say that like you know.”

He didn’t answer.

Because he did know.

But he didn’t talk about it.

Didn’t talk about the nights he spent as a kid listening to his mother cry in the next room because she didn’t have the money for rent.

Didn’t talk about how she had worked three jobs just to keep food on the table.

Didn’t talk about how she got sick.

How the bills stacked up.

How money would have saved her.

But he didn’t say any of that.

He never did.

She watched him for a moment, like she was trying to figure him out.

Then she leaned back in her chair, lips curling slightly. “You don’t talk much, huh?”

Harry exhaled. “Not if I can help it.”

She grinned. “Well, lucky for you, I talk enough for the both of us.”

And she did.

She told him about the worst customers she’d ever had. The ridiculous things people asked for at restaurants. The way rich men treated servers like they were invisible.

She didn’t include him in that category.

And for some reason, that mattered.

She laughed at her own stories.

Harry didn’t laugh.

But he listened.

More than he should have.

More than he ever did.

She didn’t push him to share.

Didn’t ask him about his life, his money, his past.

She just talked.

And it was the first time in a long time that Harry didn’t mind someone filling the silence.

When their food came, she didn’t pick at it like the women he usually dined with.

She ate.

Finished her entire burger.

Made a satisfied noise as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

Harry’s lips twitched. He wanted to smile. But he didn't.

By the time they left the restaurant, it was late.

The air was even colder now, the city quieter.

She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Alright, big shot. Where’s your driver?”

Harry exhaled, glancing down the street.

James was waiting, parked at the curb.

But for some reason—

For some stupid reason—

He didn’t want the night to end yet.

So instead of answering, he met her gaze.

And said, “Let’s walk.”

She blinked.

Then nodded.

“Okay.”

And just like that—

Harry Castillo found himself walking through the city with a woman he barely knew.

And, for once, he didn’t hate it.

The streets of Manhattan were quieter at this hour.

The usual chaos—the honking taxis, the chatter of impatient pedestrians, the ever present hum of a city that never slept had settled into something softer. The streetlights cast golden pools of light on the pavement and every now and then, a stray gust of wind sent a flurry of dry leaves skittering across the sidewalk.

She walked beside him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, her unhurried.

Harry had no idea where they were going.

She was talking again, the words flowing effortlessly, her voice filling the quiet space between them like it belonged there.

“I don’t know how people live alone in this city,” she mused, her breath visible in the cold air. “I mean, sure if you’re a billionaire hedge fund guy, then yeah, easy. But for the rest of us mortals? Forget it.”

Harry glanced at her. “So you have a roommate.”

She huffed out a small laugh. “More like a personal angel disguised as a roommate.”

His brow lifted slightly.

She kicked a small pebble across the pavement as they walked. “Her name’s Maya and she’s the only reason I can even afford to be in New York. She’s an artist—one of those ridiculously talented people who’s always sketching on napkins or leaving paint stains on everything.”

Harry hummed, tucking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. “And she sells her work?”

“Oh, yeah. To people like you,” she teased, smirking up at him.

His jaw flexed slightly. “Like me?”

She shrugged. “Rich. Intimidating. Definitely the type to spend five grand on a painting because some gallery curator convinced you it was ‘evocative of the human condition.’”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, something just short of a laugh. “I don’t buy art.”

She gave him a pointed look. “So you just have blank walls in your penthouse?”

He hesitated.

She gasped, dramatic. “Oh my God, you do!”

His jaw twitched. “I don’t see the point.”

She groaned, shaking her head. “That is actually the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

Harry smirked slightly. “Maya sounds lucky to have you as her publicist.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not her publicist. Just her number one fan. And her unpaid assistant, apparently, because every time she has a gallery showing, I end up playing bartender.”

“You work events for her?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I mean... I don’t want to be useless.”

Harry frowned slightly at that. “You’re not useless.”

She blinked up at him, something flickering behind her expression like maybe she wasn’t used to hearing that.

She recovered quickly, exhaling through her nose. “Try telling that to the people who snap their fingers at me when they want a refill.”

Harry’s jaw tightened.

There was something about that, about the idea of her being treated like she was nothing, about people looking past her like she didn’t matter.

That irritated him more than it should have.

But he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he glanced over at her, taking her in.

Her hair was slightly tousled from the wind, strands curling around her face. The dim glow of the streetlights softened her features, casting a warm hue against her skin. She looked…

Gorgeous.

Pretty.

She caught him staring and arched a brow. “What?”

Harry looked straight ahead. “Nothing.”

She huffed a small laugh, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. “You’re weird.”

“Good to know.”

She grinned but didn’t push it.

They kept walking.

They hadn’t planned on stopping anywhere, but when she spotted a small, hole in the wall coffee shop still open, she made a beeline for it.

Harry watched as she pressed her hands against the glass, peering inside like a kid outside a toy store.

She turned back to him, eyes bright. “I need something warm.”

Harry exhaled. “You could’ve just said that.”

She grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He sighed but followed her inside anyway.

The shop was small, filled with the comforting scent of coffee and fresh pastries. A tired looking barista was wiping down the counter, clearly ready to close up for the night but she bounced up to the register without hesitation.

“One hot chocolate, please.”

Harry stared. “Hot chocolate?”

She flashed him a look. “What?”

“You’re a grown woman.”

“Wow, ageism?” she gasped. “How very hedge fund of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hot chocolate is for children.”

She smirked. “And yet, I bet I’m gonna enjoy my drink way more than whatever depressing black coffee you’re about to order.”

Harry clenched his jaw.

Then turned to the barista.

“…Make it two.”

She lit up.

Not a smirk, not a teasing quip...just a genuine, unfiltered grin. “See? You’re not completely soulless after all.”

Harry huffed but said nothing.

They sat by the window, watching the street outside as their drinks cooled.

She took the first sip and sighed dramatically. “Oh my God."

Harry lifted a brow but took a sip of his own.

It was…warm. Smooth. A little too sweet.

Not terrible.

She grinned at him over the rim of her cup. “You love it.”

He set his cup down. “I tolerate it.”

She snorted. “Liar.”

Harry exhaled, shaking his head.

He was lying.

But he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

By the time they finally made it to her place, it was late.

The entrance to her building was old but well kept, tucked into a quieter side street. The kind of place that probably had thin walls and a temperamental landlord.

She stopped at the door, turning to face him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—

“You gonna be weird about this?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Harry tilted his head slightly. “Weird about what?”

She smirked. “You look like the kind of guy who doesn’t walk a woman home unless he’s expecting to come up.”

His jaw clenched. “I wasn’t—”

She grinned, cutting him off. “Relax. I’m messing with you.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Hilarious.”

She stepped back, pressing her shoulder against the doorframe. “But hey…thanks. For dinner. And the hot chocolate.”

Harry held her gaze.

She was looking at him like she wasn’t sure what to make of him yet.

Like she hadn’t quite figured him out.

And that, somehow, made him want to see her again.

Before he could say anything, she yawned, stretching her arms above her head.

“You gonna try to find me again?”

His jaw tightened.

But his lips twitched.

“I already did once.”

She hummed, tilting her head. “Then maybe next time, I’ll let you find out something about me.”

Harry exhaled.

He should have left.

Should have walked away.

But instead, he lingered just long enough to watch her disappear into the building, just long enough to hear her footsteps fade.

And then, finally—

He turned.

And walked away.

He still didn't get her name.

But he knew where to find her.

Harry had gone back to the restaurant.

But she wasn’t there.

Two days.

Two entire days of walking into that overpriced Manhattan restaurant, sitting at the same damn table, ordering the same damn whiskey neat, only for some random server—not her—to take his order.

It was infuriating.

He didn’t know her name.

Didn’t have her number.

Didn’t know anything except where she lived.

And that made something settle in his chest that he wasn’t ready to examine.

Danny noticed.

Of course he did.

“You’re sulking,” he said, lazily swirling his cocktail at their usual bar.

Harry scowled. “I don’t sulk.”

Danny smirked. “Right. You just glare at your drink like it owes you money.”

Harry clenched his jaw.

Then exhaled sharply. “She’s not at work.”

Danny blinked. Then grinned. “Oh my God, you are sulking.”

Harry resisted the urge to throw his whiskey at him.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and stared at her building’s address for the fiftieth time.

Danny sighed, tilting his head. “You know, if you really wanted to, you could—”

“I’m not hiring a private investigator,” Harry muttered.

Danny huffed. “I was gonna say Google it. Jesus, man.”

Harry scowled.

But he did Google it.

Or rather, he, Danny, and James—his driver, the only person in his life with more patience than a saint—spent two hours tracking down any lead they could.

It was a long, painful process.

But finally—Maya.

Maya Klein.

Her roommate.

Her best friend.

Her very online best friend.

It wasn’t hard to find her art portfolio.

Okay, maybe it was a little hard.

But after squinting through three different Instagram accounts, a Tumblr page, and a very outdated LinkedIn profile, they found it.

And in bold, clean font on her website—

GALLERY SHOWING TOMORROW.

TRIBECA

8PM-11PM

Harry leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against his desk.

“She bartends for her friend’s events,” he murmured.

Danny’s brows lifted. “And you’re planning on showing up.”

Harry exhaled. “I want to see her again.”

Danny smirked. “Wow. You’re down bad.”

Harry ignored him.

He stuck out like a sore thumb the moment he stepped inside.

Danny, of course, fit right in. Already drifting off into the crowd, chatting up a woman in a fringed leather jacket holding a glass of something overpriced.

James had stayed outside, leaning against the Maybach with a cigarette between his fingers, avoiding any part of this ridiculous endeavor.

And Harry?

Harry stood in the middle of an art gallery, surrounded by people who clearly hated him.

The walls were filled with abstract pieces. Raw depictions of capitalism and greed, of money and power and the corruption that came with it.

A statement.

A big fuck you to billionaires.

A big fuck you to him.

And here he was—one of the richest men in the country—standing in the middle of it.

He definitely stuck out.

Eyes flickered toward him.

Some curious. Some amused.

But most?

Judgmental.

Harry sighed.

Danny was gonna love this.

He scanned the room.

And then—

He saw her.

Behind the bar.

Her hair pulled back in a clip, sleeves rolled up, effortlessly balancing bottles and glasses, moving like she had done this a million times.

His jaw unclenched.

Something settled inside him.

Something he didn’t have the time—or patience—to name.

He walked over.

She didn’t see him at first.

Not until he was standing right in front of her.

Then—

Her eyes lifted.

And froze.

Her fingers stilled over the cocktail shaker, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

Then, slow and deliberate...

She smirked.

“You again.”

Harry exhaled. “Me again.”

She hummed, setting the shaker down. “Didn’t peg you for an art guy.”

“I’m not.”

Her smirk widened. “So you’re here for the free drinks?”

He tilted his head. “No.”

Her lips pressed together, amusement flickering in her gaze. “Then why are you here?”

Harry held her gaze.

And then—

She sighed, shaking her head.

“You really don’t like answering questions, do you?”

He exhaled. “You weren’t at work.”

Her brows lifted slightly.

Harry leaned forward, resting his hands against the bar. “I noticed.”

Her expression softened just for a second.

Then she sighed, rolling her eyes. “My legs gave out.”

His jaw tensed. “What?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “It happens. I overworked myself too much. I needed a break.”

His fingers curled against the bar.

Harry didn’t like that.

Didn’t like the idea of her pushing herself until she physically collapsed.

Didn’t like the fact that she was still working tonight.

Didn’t like any of it.

She noticed.

“You’re brooding.”

“I don’t brood.”

She arched a brow. “You definitely brood.”

Harry exhaled sharply.

She smirked.

Then casually, she grabbed a napkin, scribbled something on it, and slid it across the bar.

He frowned. “What’s this?”

She smiled.

“My name.”

His fingers brushed the paper.

His jaw flexed.

Finally.

Finally.

Then—

Across the room, a conversation caught his ear.

Loud. Purposeful. Like it was meant for him to hear.

It definitely was meant for him to hear.

“I don’t understand how these people live with themselves.”

Harry’s fingers stilled.

He turned slightly, gaze narrowing at a group gathered near one of the paintings.

“They show up, throw their money around, act like they’re saving the industry when they’re the ones who ruined it in the first place.”

Another voice chimed in. “It’s capitalism at its finest.”

Harry exhaled through his nose.

Same conversation. Different setting.

Nothing he hadn’t heard before.

He should have ignored it.

But then—

Then, he heard her.

Her voice.

Sharp. Defiant.

“You do realize the only reason these paintings are selling at all is because of the people you hate, right?”

Silence.

Harry blinked.

His gaze snapped back to her.

She wasn’t looking at him.

She was facing them, eyes narrowed, jaw set.

The guy—some twenty-something in a turtleneck—sputtered. “That’s not the—”

“No, go ahead,” she said, tilting her head. “Explain to me how you think art survives without the rich. Who do you think is buying these paintings? Who do you think is keeping galleries open? I’ll wait.”

The group shifted uncomfortably.

Harry smirked.

The guy scoffed. “That’s not the point.”

She arched a brow. “Then what is the point?”

More silence.

She exhaled. “Look, I get it. The system’s fucked. But if you really hate capitalism so much then maybe don’t take a paycheck from a company that thrives on it.”

The guy’s face turned red.

Then, huffing, he spun on his heel and walked away.

Harry exhaled through his nose.

And when she turned back to him—

He was looking at her.

Really looking at her.

She raised a brow. “What?”

Harry’s jaw ticked.

Then, slow—steady—

He reached for the napkin with her name.

Folded it.

Slipped it into his pocket.

“Nothing,” he murmured.

And, for the first time in months—

Harry Castillo smiled.

Actually let out a smile.

It was a rare thing. Unpracticed. A little uneven.

And it caught her off guard so much she forgot to breathe for a second.

That smile.

The real kind, not the smirk, not the polite billionaire press photo kind. It was all quiet softness and amusement, like a secret between the two of them. It was the kind of smile you could fall into if you weren’t careful.

“Wow,” she murmured, recovering. “You do know how to do that.”

Harry’s smile didn’t falter, but he said nothing.

Typical.

The gallery began to thin out as the night wore on. Coats were retrieved from racks, the sound of shoes echoed across the polished concrete floor, and people began floating toward the exit in clumps, cheeks flushed from wine and conversations.

Harry stayed.

He didn’t know why he stayed.

He could’ve left after thirty minutes like most of the other well dressed nuts in the room. But something about the way she moved behind the bar—tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, laughing quietly when Maya came over to whisper something in her ear—held him in place.

She kept sneaking glances at him too.

Never long. Never obvious.

But enough.

He stayed perched in a corner, away from the art critics and the performative intellectuals with their wine sick grins and disdain for everything they secretly wanted. He watched her wipe down glasses and stack them methodically, her body moving slower than usual now, more deliberate. Her energy was dwindling down.

She was tired.

Exhausted, actually.

He could see it in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was watching.

Around midnight, the final few stragglers filtered out. Maya was surrounded by compliments, champagne, and laughter as she waved people goodbye. She was magnetic.

But Harry’s focus was only on one person.

Her.

She was drying a wine glass with a rag that had seen better days when he approached the bar again.

“You’re still here?” she asked without looking up.

“I tend to see things through.”

She scoffed. “That doesn’t sound exhausting at all.”

Harry didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into his coat and placed something on the bar. A lemon ginger lozenge.

She stared at it. “What is this?”

“You’ve been clearing your throat for the last hour. Thought you might be getting sick.”

She blinked.

And then quietly, “Thanks.”

He nodded once. “You ready to go?”

She furrowed her brows. “Go?”

“You were going to walk home, weren’t you?”

“I—” She hesitated. “Yeah. I was.”

“Not happening.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Harry—”

“Maya said she’s having people over.”

Her mouth opened. “She what?”

As if on cue, Maya bounced over, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “There you are! Just wanted to let you know we’re having a tiny get together back at the apartment. You’re coming, right?”

She forced a smile. “Yeah…totally.”

Maya beamed. “Perfect! I’ll see you there!” And just like that, she twirled away in her silk pants and heeled boots like a whirlwind of chaos and charm.

Harry looked at her, quiet.

“You don’t want to go,” he said plainly.

She paused. “No, I mean—I don’t mind—”

“You need rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re exhausted.”

She made a face. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t an insult.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It was. You’ve been on your feet all night and still managed to argue with an entire table of art anarchists without flinching.”

She blinked. “You were listening?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m observant.”

Something warm crept up her neck. “That’s actually…kind of sweet.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Still is.”

He exhaled, glancing toward the door. “Let me take you somewhere quiet.”

She looked at him carefully. "Okay." She nodded.

Harry smiled. “Come on.”

As they walked toward the exit, a low whistle echoed across the room.

“Ooooh, look who’s leaving together,” Danny called out, arm slung lazily around a girl wearing metallic eyeshadow and an alarming amount of lip gloss.

Harry cringed visibly. “Ignore him.”

“Oh, I planned on it,” she muttered, quickening her step.

Outside, James was leaning against the Maybach, his cigarette burning low between his fingers.

He straightened when he saw them. “Evening,” he said coolly, holding the door open without a single question.

Once inside the car, she leaned her head against the window, legs tucked beneath her. The car purred beneath them as it slid through the streets like a shadow.

“You always have a driver?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes.”

“Even when you’re just, like…getting groceries?”

Harry looked at her. “Do I look like I get groceries?”

She snorted. “Fair.”

He glanced at her again. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She paused. Her apartment would be loud. Crowded. Too many people, too much laughter, and she was tired.

Bone tired.

“I…wouldn’t mind going somewhere quiet,” she said softly.

Harry didn’t reply. Just gave James a nod. And James didn’t need to be told twice.

The car ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The city lights flickered through the windows as they sped through Manhattan, the hum of the engine steady beneath them.

She was curled up in the passenger seat, head resting against the cool glass, eyes flickering between exhaustion and quiet thought.

Harry didn’t say anything. Didn’t push.

He liked the silence with her.

When they finally pulled up to his building, James barely looked surprised. He simply put the car in park, gave Harry a knowing look and muttered, “Have a good night, sir.”

Harry ignored him.

She hesitated when the elevator doors opened, glancing up at him.

“You sure about this?” she murmured.

Harry met her gaze. “You need rest.”

She exhaled. “You’re really committed to this whole taking care of me thing, huh?”

Harry didn’t answer. Just stepped into the elevator.

After a beat—she followed.

The penthouse was quiet when they entered.

It was huge.

Dimly lit, the skyline of Manhattan stretching out before them through the floor to ceiling windows. She looked around, taking in the sleek design, the impossibly neat kitchen, the pristine furniture.

Then—

“You really don’t have anything on the walls.”

Harry exhaled. “We’ve been over this.”

She smirked. “Still depressing.”

Harry ignored her, shrugging off his coat before turning to her.

“Go take a bath.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Harry huffed. “You need to relax.”

She scoffed. “I’m fine.”

He raised a brow. “You’ve been on your feet for how many hours straight. Worked so long your legs gave out.”

She rolled her eyes. “I said I’m fine.”

Harry’s jaw clenched.

Then, slowly, pointedly, he turned and started walking toward the bathroom.

“What are you—”

“Follow me.”

Against her better judgment—she did.

The bathroom was nothing short of luxurious.

A massive tub sat beneath a soft glowing light, marble countertops lining the space. The air smelled faintly of something expensive, probably whatever soap billionaires used.

Harry turned on the water, letting the tub fill, steam curling into the air.

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “You really think I’m about to take a bath?”

Harry gave her a look. “Yes.”

She scoffed. “Why?”

“Because you deserve to rest.”

Something flickered in her expression.

Soft. Unreadable.

Harry stepped back, nodding toward the tub. “Take your time.”

She hesitated.

Then—finally—sighed. “Fine.”

Harry nodded once before leaving the room.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the tub, at the ridiculous luxury of it all.

Then—she caught sight of the robe hanging by the sink.

A man’s robe.

His.

She swallowed.

Slowly, she peeled off her clothes, stepping into the warm water letting the heat soak into her muscles, melting the exhaustion from her bones.

She leaned back, closing her eyes.

And then—

She caught the scent of something in the air.

His shampoo.

His body wash.

Without thinking, she reached for the bottle, pouring a small amount into her palm before lathering it into her hair.

She didn’t know why she did it.

Didn’t know why the idea of smelling like him made something tighten in her chest.

But she didn’t stop.

Not until the scent of Harry Castillo was wrapped around her.

The warmth from the bath had seeped into her bones, leaving her skin flushed, her limbs loose.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt good.

Not just better—good.

Rested.

Weightless.

And wrapped in the scent of him.

She exhaled slowly, fingers dragging through her damp hair as she stepped out of the tub. Water dripped from her skin, soaking into the thick, plush bath mat beneath her feet.

She reached for the robe hanging by the door.

His robe.

It was heavy, rich, expensive fabric, meant for a man built like Harry.

She pulled it on anyway, wrapping herself in it, feeling swallowed whole by the warmth of something that belonged to him.

Something about that made her stomach twist.

Not in a bad way.

Not in a way she could name.

She let her fingers toy with the fabric as she padded quietly out of the bathroom, stepping into the dim glow of his penthouse.

Harry was waiting.

Not in a way that was obvious, but in a way that was distinctly him.

His posture was casual, leaning against the back of his couch, one hand resting lightly on the armrest. He had changed, too—no longer in his suit jacket, just his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins in his forearms, the carefully restrained tension in his body.

His gaze flickered over her, slow like he was taking his time, committing every detail to memory.

She knew what he saw.

Bare legs peeking out from beneath his robe. Damp hair curling against her collarbone. The softened edges of her normally sharp expression.

And for once—

For once, she let him look.

She watched his throat bob slightly, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes before he exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Come here.”

Her lips twitched. “Bossy.”

He didn’t deny it. Just waited.

She crossed the room, bare feet pressing against the smooth floor, stopping when she was just a few inches away.

Harry’s hands curled into fists against the couch for a second, like he was fighting the urge to touch her.

Then without a word he turned, disappearing into his bedroom.

She blinked, startled.

Then—

He came back.

With clothes.

A pair of sweatpants.

A plain black T-shirt.

Things that were clearly his, judging by the size of them.

He handed them to her, jaw tight. “Put these on.”

She took them, amused. “You actually own sweatpants?”

Harry exhaled through his nose, running a hand along his jaw. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t sleep in a tux.”

She grinned. “Shocking.”

He said nothing.

Just watched as she took the bundle of clothing and walked back toward the bathroom to change.

His sweatpants hung low on her hips, the waistband tied in a loose knot to keep them from slipping. The shirt was too big, drowning her frame, the fabric worn in and soft against her skin.

It felt like being wrapped in him.

Warmth lingered in the cotton, in the faint scent of his cologne. Something expensive.

She padded barefoot through the penthouse, fingers fidgeting with the hem of the shirt. The city glittered outside the floor to ceiling windows.

Everything about this place was so immaculate. So clean. So structured. It screamed of control—of a man who ruled his world with precision.

But the moment she entered it some of that control seemed to slip.

She could feel it in the way Harry watched her, the way his fingers twitched when she walked past him, as if resisting the urge to reach out and keep her close.

She stopped in front of the window, arms crossing over her chest, her breath fogging slightly against the cool glass. “You can see everything from here.”

Harry was behind her, watching her quietly. “You like it?”

She exhaled, eyes scanning the skyline. “Yeah. But…”

His brow lifted slightly. “But?”

She hesitated. Then with a small teasing smirk, she turned to face him. “It’s kinda depressing that you live up here all alone.”

Harry’s jaw twitched. “I’m fine.”

She huffed. “That’s what all lonely people say.”

His lips curved just slightly, something almost amused flickering behind his sharp gaze. “And you’re an expert on loneliness?”

She shrugged, moving closer, the fabric of his shirt swaying against her thighs. “I know what it looks like.”

Harry watched her approach, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “And what do I look like?”

She tilted her head, scanning him playfully. “Like a very, very rich man who doesn’t know what to do with himself outside of work.”

Harry huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Accurate.”

She grinned, victorious. “Told you.”

For a moment they just stood there.

Him watching her.

Her watching him.

The silence between them wasn’t empty.

It was heavy. Charged.

Harry’s gaze flickered to her legs, to the way his sweatpants hung off her frame, the fabric pooling at her ankles. Then to the curve of her hip, the way his T-shirt stretched over her body, swallowing her whole.

Something deep and dangerous stirred in his chest.

She looked good like this.

Too good.

Her chin tilted up, eyes meeting his. “You really don’t talk much, do you?”

His hand lifted, brushing her damp hair back behind her ear. His touch was light, barely there, but it made her breath catch.

His fingers trailed lower, down her jaw, grazing the edge of her throat.

She swallowed.

His voice was deep when he finally spoke. “I say what matters.”

Her lips parted slightly, something unspoken hanging between them.

She felt it before she realized what she was doing.

The way her body leaned into his.

The way his fingers skimmed over the fabric of his shirt against her skin, so close, yet still too far.

His touch was careful.

Like he was memorizing her.

She exhaled shakily. “You keep looking at me like that.”

Harry’s thumb brushed over her hip. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out.”

“I am.”

She blinked. “What?”

Harry’s hand slid lower, fingers teasing along the edge of his sweatpants on her frame. His voice was softer this time, almost dangerous.

“If I can control myself.”

Her breath hitched.

She wasn’t sure who moved first.

Maybe it was him. Maybe it was her.

But suddenly—

They weren’t talking anymore.

His lips crashed against hers, urgent and deep, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her flush against him. She gasped into his mouth, fingers tangling in the fabric of his dress shirt as he devoured her.

The world blurred.

She barely registered the way he picked her up, his hands firm around her thighs as he hoisted her up, murmuring quietly against her ear, “Jump.”

And she did.

Wrapped her legs around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He carried her through the penthouse with effortless strength, like she weighed nothing, like holding her close was something he’d done a thousand times before.

And then—

He walked her backward towards his bed, his mouth never leaving her skin, breath warm against her jaw.

The mattress hit the backs of her knees, sending her falling onto it in a slow, melting sprawl of limbs and want.

The soft silk duvet caught her, cool against the fever of her skin, her hair spilling across his impossibly expensive sheets. The room was dim but warm, the city humming just beyond the glass windows, the skyline glittering like a thousand secrets no one else would ever know.

Harry stood above her, his breathing deeper now, his eyes locked onto her like he was trying to memorize the moment. Like she was a painting he hadn’t expected to fall in love with.

She propped herself up on her elbows, staring back. Waiting. Wanting.

Harry’s fingers moved to his collar first. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, revealing inch after inch of warm, lived in skin beneath it. He wasn’t carved like marble—wasn’t the chiseled fantasy that Hollywood sold in glossy posters.

He was real.

His chest was broad, his arms strong but not perfect. Age spots dotted his skin like constellations, a faint scar ran along the side of his ribs, and when his shirt slipped off his shoulders, she saw the slight softness of his belly.

A pouch.

Honest. Natural. Human.

And when her eyes lingered there—he froze.

She could tell.

The way his breath caught. The flicker of hesitation in his brow.

He was used to being looked at like a power figure. A man in suits. Behind desks. Holding titles and leverage.

But being seen like this?

Like a man—just a man—baring everything? That was different.

She sat up slowly, still watching him. She didn’t say anything, didn’t tease, didn’t fill the space with false comfort.

She just reached for him.

Her fingers skimmed across the skin of his abdomen, soft and warm beneath her touch, and she whispered, “Come here.”

Something in him shifted.

Like maybe he believed her.

That she wanted all of him.

He slid out of his slacks, slow and deliberate, leaving him in nothing but his briefs for a moment before they, too, joined the pile of fabric on the floor.

Then he reached for her.

She let him.

His hands were careful when they peeled off her borrowed T-shirt, pulling it over her head and dropping it aside. Then her body lifted instinctively as he slid the sweatpants down her hips, revealing soft skin, flushed and ready beneath him.

Now they were skin to skin.

Warm and real.

Harry hovered over her, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he held himself above her, his gaze moving slowly down her body.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Just like that.

No flourish. No performance.

Just a truth that had been sitting in his chest since the moment he first saw her.

She reached up and cupped his jaw, her thumb brushing just beneath his lip. “So are you.”

His breath hitched.

And then he kissed her.

Not rough. Not greedy.

Deep.

Warm.

Slow.

The kind of kiss that says I see you. I feel you. I’m here.

His hands roamed her body like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch first—her ribs, her hips, the soft curve of her breast beneath his palm.

And then—

He began to slide lower.

Kissing down her neck.

Dragging his lips across her collarbone.

Sinking further and further until he was kneeling between her thighs, the backs of his hands brushing gently along the insides of her legs, coaxing them apart like he was opening something sacred.

She was already breathing heavy, already undone just from the look in his eyes.

He settled between her legs like he belonged there.

And maybe—he did.

He didn’t dive in like a man with something to prove. He took his time.

Let her feel his breath first.

The heat of his mouth pressing gentle, almost shy kisses to her thighs.

Then—

He licked a slow, deliberate stripe up her center, groaning low when he tasted her.

Like she was the answer to a hunger he didn’t know he’d been carrying.

Her hips jerked. Her fingers scrambled for the sheets.

He pressed his palms to her hips, grounding her, murmuring something too quiet to make out.

Then his mouth opened on her again.

Tongue.

Lips.

Heat.

Every part of him focused on unraveling her.

She moaned, soft and choked, as his tongue circled her clit, slow at first, then faster with just the right amount of pressure.

He adjusted when she squirmed.

Groaned when she whimpered.

Moved with her, not against her.

Like this was a language only he spoke.

She looked down once—just once—and saw him watching her.

Eyes locked to hers.

Dark. Hungry. But more than that...captivated.

Like he could spend the rest of his life right here, on his knees tasting her like he needed her to survive.

His mustache scraped lightly against the tender skin of her thighs, a delicious burn. His fingers dug into her hips as his mouth worked in steady rhythm, not relenting even when she gasped, Harry, please—

Especially then.

He moaned against her like her begging was the most beautiful sound in the world.

And then—

She broke.

She came with a soft, shattered gasp, her body buckling as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her hands found his hair, her legs trembled, her hips rolled up into his mouth.

He held her through all of it.

Licked her through it.

Didn’t stop until she was whimpering from overstimulation, her fingers tugging weakly at his hair.

Only then—only then—did he lift his head.

His mouth was slick, his jaw tense, his chest heaving.

He crawled back up the bed, lips brushing her cheek, her neck, the corner of her mouth.

He kissed her slowly.

Didn’t try to speak.

He just laid beside her, naked and warm and quiet.

Letting her curl into him.

Letting the silence stretch.

Letting himself feel.

And when she finally caught her breath, when she looked up at him and whispered, “You okay?”

Harry gave her a look so full of tenderness it nearly undid her all over again.

“I am now,” he said.

And she believed him.

They laid there, skin to skin, her fingers tracing slow, thoughtless shapes against his chest while his hand rested on the curve of her hip not wanting to let go, grounding them both in something quiet and real.

For the first time in months, Harry hadn’t thought about Lucy.

Not once.

Not her laugh, not the space she left behind.

He only thought about the girl breathing softly in his arms, asleep against his chest like she belonged there.

And when his eyes finally closed, he felt safe.

Maybe for the first time in his life.

[sturn777]

soft launch w rapper chris gone wrong

YOU SHOULD’VE KNOWN BETTER. you did know better. but the lighting was too good, his watch sitting pretty against your wrist, a quiet little flex. nothing too obvious. just enough to make people wonder.

but within minutes, your phone was going crazy. dms, texts from your girls: is that chris’ watch?? girl… you’re wild for that.

you barely had time to react before you clicked his profile, only to see he’d unfollowed you.

nah. no way. you checked on your burner. same thing. over that?

you stared at your screen, irritation bubbling under your skin. he could do whatever he wanted, fuck around, move however he pleased, but the second you hinted at something, even subtly, he shut it down?

fine. bet.

so you went out that night, let some random guy buy you drinks, let him get a little too close, let the camera catch his hand on your thigh before you posted it to your story.

if chris wanted to act cold, you could match his energy.

but when you got home, heels in your hand, half-tipsy and smug, he was already there, leaned against your doorframe, hood up, thumb scrolling on his phone like he’d been waiting.

"take that shit down."

his voice was calm, unreadable, but you knew him too well.

"take what down?" you feigned innocence, stepping past him to unlock your door.

he scoffed, a quiet exhale through his nose. "you know what."

"ohhh, you mean my instagram story?" you smirked, tilting your head. "why do you care? thought you didn’t even follow me."

he didn’t answer, just ran a slow tongue over his teeth.

you folded your arms. "that’s crazy, though. ‘cause you can do whatever the fuck you want, but the second i—"

"you don’t listen," he cut in, voice even.

"or maybe you just don’t like seeing me with someone else," you shot back.

his eyes flicked down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "you finished?"

you scoffed, pushing open your door. "whatever, chris."

but before you could step inside, his hand was on the doorframe, blocking you. not touching you, not forcing you. just standing there, too close, watching you too carefully.

"once they know, they'll ruin it."

your breath caught.

his voice was quieter now, his face unreadable. "people start talking, assuming shit. then it’s done."

you swallowed, looking away.

"you know that, right?"

you did. and that was the worst part.

🏷 : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel ; @awnmaneez ; @heartss4clauu ; @mattsstarlet ; @madisturni ; @marrykisskilled ; @inspiredangel ; @mattsdemi ; @sturnioloangell ; @ivyandthebeans ; @amelia-sturniolo3 ; @dominicfikeenthusiast ; @sophand4n4 ; @ch6rm ; @et6rnalsun; @sturniolossss ; @jetaimevous ; @chrissweetheart ; @secretlocket ; @courta13 ; @mattsleftball ; @chrislova ; @etherealval ; @throatgoat4u ; @oopsiedaisydeer ; @dearsoulmate3 ; @leaningoutthewindow ; @izzylovesmatt ; @rinnsgalaxy ; @espressqe ; @pair-of-pantaloons ; @chericherrybaby ; @cockettechris ; @sirenedeslily ; @sturnsxplr-25 ; @stevelacylovebot )

[rex-rambles]

➤ HELLO DARLIN' (SMAU + FIC)

pairing: daniel ricciardo x countrysinger!reader

summary: you and daniel have a falling out - can an old loretta lynn song bring you back together? (inspired by 'Hello Darlin' by Loretta Lynn)

wc: 1.6 k

warnings: angst with a happy ending :) faceclaim: megan moroney

➤ MASTERLIST

Liked by kelseaballerini, dollyparton, and 1,361,092 others

yourusername Thank you, Nashville! Needed some of that hometown healing

↳ kelseaballerini 💙 💙 💙

↳ yourusername my favourite VIP

↳ fan54 seeing you live was unreal!! missing you already

liked by yourusername

↳ fan105 anyone notice Daniel wasn't in attendance??

↳ fan29 he's at the Singapore Grand Prix

↳ fan243 he didn't even like the post

f1gossip Fans noticed that Daniel Ricciardo and long-term partner @/yourusername have unfollowed each other on Instagram.

↳ mclar_win NO, PLEASE NO

↳ fan105 Daniel has to be in the wrong here, the songs she wrote for him were so sweet

↳ fan29 the break-up songs are going to be next level

↳ f1-fanatic so you're telling me he's single

↳ fan12 so you're telling me SHE'S single!!

_

_

Liked by kelseaballerini, zachlanebryan, and 1,418,122 others

yourusername I promise I'm getting work done this week, just you wait

↳ kelseaballerini recording? without me?

↳ yourusername you know you're always welcome 🫶

↳ zachlanebryan can you come open the studio door?

↳ fan44 OH MY GOD

↳ fan243 the collab I have been WAITING for

↳ fan98 stay away from her

Liked by yourusername, kelseaballerini, and others

triple_j On this weeks 'Like a Version', country singer @/yourusername puts her own spin on Loretta Lynn's 'Hello Darlin'. Giving us a behind-the-scenes look at why she chose the song, she explained that her love for old country songs, and her own overuse of the word darling, made it a perfect fit. Only this time, she isn't the one apologizing - the listener should be. 

↳ kelseaballerini you're so talented, I can't believe you @/yourusername

↳ yourusername it was an honour to sing with y'all!!

↳ fan98 you can't tell me this isn't about Daniel. 

↳ fan243 I'd bet real money on it

_

_

You were aware it was all a matter of circumstance. The wrong words, the wrong day, the wrong emotions. It had felt like the past month of your relationship with Daniel, he'd been pushing you away, devoting himself to his racing with a vigour you'd never seen before, forgetting every other responsibility he had. 

Then, one random Tuesday afternoon, it had all snapped. All the years you spent together turned into one sentence: 

"Who cares about your music?" 

You were aware it was all a matter of circumstance, but that didn't make it sting any less. Daniel had tried to backpedal, to apologize, but the worst was done. Until he could get his head out of his ass and realize what he was doing to the people around him, you weren't going to be a part of it. 

Didn't mean you didn't miss him any less. Kelsea had stayed up with you at ungodly hours of the night as you poured your heart out to her, how the man who meant so much to you had changed. She'd been the one to show you that he'd been dropped from F1, that he was retiring, and the world slowed a little, and started to make sense. 

Sitting here, waiting for him now, you wonder why he didn't say anything. He'd been racing a long time, sure, but look at Fernando - who knows the age limits of F1 drivers. It had never occurred to you that he was working so hard to save his seat, but that still didn't excuse his behaviour. 

The Nashville heat was evident, even this late at night as you sat curled up on your balcony. If you strained, hard enough, you could make out the music of some bar nearby, a nice old tune if it weren't blasted at such a volume. He said his plane was getting in at 11, and as the clock got closer to midnight, you wondered if he'd actually show. 

He always kept his word, it wasn't like he'd say that and disappear, but this was the first real rough patch you'd hit, and neither of you was really sure how to navigate it.

"Hello, darlin'?" You bolt up, peering over the railing and down to Daniel in the street, blue bouquet of flowers in hand. He had always been one for little romantic gestures, and even after everything, it still hadn't changed. "You know, I'd serenade you, but you are the singer in the relationship, and I don't think the paparazzi need to hear that." 

"I mean, they might appreciate the show." It's old banter, like nothing had changed, like the last time you saw him you hadn't stormed out of his hotel room sobbing. You both realize that you'd slipped into old habits like worn boots, and end up staring at each other for a bit too long. 

"You going to let me up?" Something unknowable passes over Daniel's face as he says it, and you silently nod, moving back into your apartment to buzz him up. You knew he had the spare key, had spent enough nights here to know your keycode, but it was still nice of him to ask. 

In an instant, he's at your front door, and this close, you realize just how much you missed being in his presence. That song wasn't just a random choice. You had listened to it on repeat after everything you went through, and realized every word was about Daniel. Only, you weren't sorry, besides that it all went down the way it did. You're sure he felt the same way, and he holds out the bouquet with a small smile. 

"They're a bit crushed, since they're from England." 

"England?" You let him into the space, setting the flowers down on the kitchen counter to deal with them later. Last you checked, he'd be in Singapore, or maybe back home in Australia.

"I had to finish my offboarding." He admits quietly, still not moved from his place just a few steps in from the door. "They got some celebration stuff they want to plan for me, too, but yesterday made it official." 

He was no longer an F1 driver. You're not quite sure what to say, knowing how much love he put into the sport, but also the relief that it's all over. He did his best, he was moving on, but it still didn't make it hurt any less. "When do you have to go?" 

"The end of the week." Four days. That's how long you had him for. "I've booked a hotel, just a few streets over." 

"What?" Then, it dawns on you again why he's here in the first place. "Oh." 

"I was a dick." Daniel finally begins, setting down his backpack as he approaches you. He stops, the kitchen island between you, and you know if you look into his eyes any longer you're going to cry, so instead, you focus on staring at the flowers he brought. "I was so involved in the end of my career that I ignored how important yours was, and that wasn't fair of me." 

"Why didn't you say anything?" You knew he was stressed, you knew how hard this must have been for him, so why wouldn't he let you in? Every time you went through something, he was right there, listening to you, ready with solutions, or to just validate you.

Why didn't he think you'd do the same? "I didn't really know, but I had a hunch. I thought...if I said anything, it might come true, but I guess it did anyway." He lets out a weak laugh, before slowly moving around the counter to stand right in front of you. "I never should've said what I did, and I hope you know how grateful I am for your music, and everything you've written about me, and I'm so proud of all that you've done."

If the sight of him alone wasn't going to make you cry, his words most certainly were. You immediately step forward, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him into you, and you bury your face into his sweater, revelling in the smell of him. "I'm not going to lie and say it's all okay," Your voice is muffled by the fabric, and you pull away so he can hear you better. "But I understand what the pressure is like, darlin'. The only thing is I make sure to talk to you about it, rather than try to hide it away." 

"I'm just sorry. So sorry."  Then, the first tears fall, and you unloop your arms from him to wipe at his cheeks, holding him there as he tries to take deep breaths. Seeing him like this hurt more than the distance, knowing that it got to the point where he pushed you out before he could even think to pull you close. You should've been there for him, and the guilt of missing his last race still hangs over you. "I wish you were there for my last race." He continues, taking a deep breath, and your vision blurs as you blink away your own tears.

"I wish I was there too." You whisper as Daniel's hand comes to cradle yours, pulling it away from his cheek to press a kiss to the palm. "I'm sorry about your seat." 

"Ah, well. I've finally got some free time on my hands." He cracks a small smile, and you can't help but smile back. If there was a silver lining, in all of this, it was that Daniel was now a whole lot more free for you, and you needed to make up for lost time. "I hear there's this great country singer touring right now, might go see her." 

That pulls a laugh out of you, shaking your head as he lets your hand drop. "Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah." Then, with the reality of everything hitting again, his eyes dip to the floor as he admits, "I really...I'm really going to miss racing." 

"I know, love." You link your hand with his, pulling him away from the counter and toward the couch, and you force him to sit. You stand before him, holding his face in your hands, and wiping the last of the tear stains away. "But I'm here whenever you need me." 

"Yeah?" This would never have ended in heartbreak. There was no universe where you and Daniel didn't repair everything you went through, because that's just who you were. You made mistakes, and you fixed them together because even hurtful comments in the heat of the moment can't break your love for him. 

"Yeah. I told you, you're a hard man not to love, darlin'." He pulls you down onto him, looping his arms around you to hold you close. You press a kiss to his cheek as you relax into him, having missed the ways his arms feel around you. Neither of you speak for a while, just listening to the sound of each other breathing as you let yourself take up space in each other's lives again. Then, when it feels right, you rest your head back against his shoulder to look at him. "I picked up some things for you since we were running low." 

Confusion crosses over Daniel's face as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hm?" 

"Shampoo, your toothpaste, all that." Something sparks in his eyes, a realization that, despite the whole apology, you'd already planned for him to stay, already got his favourite things. You might've been hurt, but there's no way Daniel's staying in a hotel, away from you, when that bed's been calling his name since he left. "What? You really think you were coming here tonight for me to kick you out?" 

"I love you, you know that?" Those words always sounded so nice, coming from him, and tonight's no different as you lean forward to properly kiss him. It's a tender thing, kindled only by your time apart, no need to rush into something more than just sitting on the couch and letting each other be.

"Oh, I do." You say against his lips, hand smoothing against his chest. "But, it wouldn't hurt to have a little reminder-" 

Daniel's kissing you again before you can even finish the sentence, and you decide that for the next four days, you're not moving from this couch, and you're not moving from his arms. 

_

f1gossip Making up (or making out)? Though his trip was short, Daniel Ricciardo was spotted by fans with @/yourusername clubbing and karting in Nashville!

↳ fan5 They're following each other again too!! 

↳ brocedes thank god, after losing his seat? I couldn't imagine losing my girl

↳ fan84 i told y'all!! it was nothing

↳ fan243 we better get some good music out of this

_

A/N: know that if I could, I would make country music themed fics about all the racers.

[f1amour]

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 NO ONE NOTICED — CARLOS SAINZ

[social media au + some real life]

pairing | carlos sainz x mexican!reader

face claim ★ danna paola

content warnings | age gap (reader is 22) angst, suggestive content

authors note | not spell checked. based off no one noticed by the marías. if anyone would like a part two with a happy ending let me know <3 posting this to start off some manifestation that carlos wins the vegas gp please just one more win with ferrari 🤞🏼

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liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt, landonorris, bellahadid, dulcemaria, and 842,496 others

yourusername monza gp was amazing as always. now off to my home for a little break 🇲🇽🤍

➥ view comments below

user1 she ATE every single outfit at monza

user2 girl might as well post carlos in the second slide we all know that’s him😭

alexandrastmleaux pretty girl 💓💓💓

yourusername please that’s all you 🤍

carmenmmundt hermosa! can’t wait to see you

yourusername reuniting so soon i love you😭

user3 kind of new to the fandom but how does she know so many wags??

user4 she’s a singer and occasional youtuber who was invited to sing the national anthem of mexico at the mexico city gp in 2021. it’s been rumored she has a fwb situation with carlos but never been confirmed even though she’s been spotted in his garage at multiple races

user5 carlos needs to make it official atp she’s his biggest supporter despite him constantly saying he’s not in a relationship and doesn’t want to be in one

user6 our girl deserves better if he wont appreciate her then let her find someone who will

♥️ yourusername liked this comment

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SEPTEMBER, 2023

You walk close behind Carlo as he makes his way back inside the house after having a relaxing day at the beach he’d saw the dms from random people about you liking a certain comment “It was an accident. I thought I was liking Carmen’s comment and I don’t know my thumb slipped or—.”

“An accident? You responded to Carmen way earlier that comment was made hours later. Just stop lying for once in your life, yn!”

“No that’s now fair, Carlos. You say I lie all the time? I lie for you! I don’t want this anymore. I want something real…that’s the truth.” Your eyes well up with tears overcome with emotions you sit on the bed feeling deflated.

Carlos sighs and sits beside you, “Y/n…we said from the beginning this would be—.”

“No feelings attached only sex because with both our careers being busy a relationship would not be healthy for us. I have that memorized, Carlos. I know we agreed to that and it was going well,” You quote what he had said to you the night after the México City Gp in 2021 where you two had spent the night together.

“I thought I could have sex with you and have no feelings for you but how can I not? You…you always know what will cheer me up. You are the first person I call or text in the morning even if I’ve had a busy week. You know exactly how I take my tea or coffee, you kiss me with a passion that makes me believe you love me too, you hold me like you never wanna let go…how can I not fall in love with you?”

And there it was. The three words Carlos had been trying to avoid from you not because he didn’t feel the same way but he knew his life and your would ever be stable for a relationship. Among other things he just knew this may not end right if you got into a relationship but now looking at it, this situationship was ending now.

“Y/n…I don’t feel the same way.”

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SEPTEMBER, 2023

liked by yourusername, user1, user2, user3, and others

smoothoperator_updates carlos has won the singapore gp!!! this is a huge accomplishment after redbull dominating season so far. congrats carlos! 🏎️

➥ view comments below

user1 anyone else see yn like this post? why was she not there😭

user2 yn in the likes because she unfollowed carlos…my heart is breaking

user3 they definitely ended their relationship or whatever it was after the monza gp just a few days later she unfollowed him even though he still follows her

user4 y’all go check f1gossiponthepaddock recent post…carlos is horrible for that

f1gossiponthepaddock spotted! carlos sainz cozying up and kissing mystery brunette at a club celebrating his singapore gp win. sources at the part said he never left her sights and was very hands on. quite a fast rebound after being spotted with y/n y/l/n just a few weeks ago.

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NOVEMBER, 2023 • PODCAST INTERVIEW

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yourusername posted a story !

slide 1 tan lejos de mi, te sigo pensando. me canso llorando.

carlossainz55 posted a story

slide 1 i wanted to stay, i wanted to be there. i wanted to hold you, but i was afraid. i should've told you.

[sl33paholics]

Baki's Reaction To Your Ex Trying To Get You Back Headcanons! (and a mini story ig)

Uhm.....it's 6am as I write this and I'm giggling my ass off

To say that Baki would come up and beat the shit out of your ex on the spot right in front of you and others is an understatement.

Baki is more of a quiet observator. Rather than confrontational, Baki might choose to observe your ex from a distance, assessing the encounter with a calm demeanor, possibly seeing it as an opportunity to reaffirm your commitment.

Baki's not an idiot. He can choose to downplay the situation, opting not to give your ex's attempt much attention, focusing instead on maintaining the positive dynamics of your relationship.

Known for his actions more than words, Baki might subtly intensify his efforts to show affection and support, reinforcing Baki's commitment through deeds rather than direct confrontation.

Baki knows how much you love to post yourself on social media. The latest fits, shoes, or with your friends. He's aware that your ex still follows you, even though you unfollowed him many, many months ago. Expect Baki to always hype you up in the comments under your posts on Instagram by spamming hearts and down-bad shit as well, he's most likely getting pinned every time.

Hell, if you're not posting yourself, you're sharing photos of the two of you on dates and random shit. Such as the you two at the gym. Baki's arms always wrapped around your shoulders or his hands gripping your hips. Baki can tell your ex is salty, he stalks his story on an alt account, LOL!

Sometimes, Baki could sense how annoyed and bothered you are whenever you'd see accounts named "shien_giveaway_6997" viewing your story. It's so obvious! Baki values honesty, and he'd engage in an open conversation with you about the situation, discussing any concerns or insecurities. Baki doesn't want a pretty woman like you stressing out over a man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

If you don't want to speak to him about the whole situation, Baki could respond with affectionate gesture, like a surprise date or a thoughtful gift, to reaffirm his commitment and show that he values and appreciates you. He could even use humor and make jokes about your ex's attempts to diffuse the tension.

However, it could only be so long until the man could entertain your ex before he was going to be pushed off the edge.

Baki could opt for a straightforward conversation, expressing his feelings and concerns calmly while speaking to the man via text message or phone. While not confrontational, Baki gives off a subtle warning vibe, a non-verbal cue that communicates the depth of his commitment and suggests that attempting to disrupt the relationship won't be taken lightly.

This could go two ways. 1) Your ex could simply back off and respect your wishes that your current relationship holds. Or 2) your ex could simply be cocky, shouting at him over the phone, insulting him to insert dominance, and other things to Baki as he's just there sitting silently listening to him yap yap yap yap yap yap yap -

It just so happens that Baki and your ex stumbled across each other while in the city.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Seeing Baki's size, your ex laughed and berated him. How can a man his height cuff YOU up? He couldn't believe it. How low were your expectations? He was tall and built. Baki? Sure. He was ripped but SHORT.

"I don't have time for this," Baki simply said, making your ex raise a brow in confusion. "(Y/N) is waiting for me, I can't have my love waiting." Baki walked past the taller figure, his hands in his pockets. He stopped once your ex pulled on his shirt, tugging and pulling Baki back.

"A short boy like you can't do shit!" Your ex would spat. The smell of cigarettes reeked and made Baki want to cough in his face. "Suddenly coming 'round and stealin' MY girl away from me?! I should punch you in your shit-"

It's safe to say that Baki hit this man with a two-piece combo. A slap and a roundhouse kick sent that man straight to sleep on the sidewalk. Baki stared at the unconscious man before sighing. Continuing his journey towards your place.

Hours later, your phone begins to blow up from your friends of the picture of your ex on the sidewalk earlier that day. You confronted Baki only for him to pout and say, "He ruined my shirt :("

You couldn't be mad at him. At least your ex knew not to fuck with you and your boyfriend anymore.

[everparanoid]

Headcanon: university student! Wriothesley

University student! Wriothesley x gn! reader

tags: fluff - word count: 1.2k

Wriothesley is what you would call 'the misunderstood "bad boy".' That is to say, he isn't bad at all but rather has a bad-boy exterior that intimidates your peers.

Wriothesley, as a student, is the quiet type and can seem threatening at first glance. But once you get to know him, you realise he’s quite relaxed and has a sharp wit. He’s always seen with a flask in hand, leading everyone to assume it contains alcohol. But it’s filled with tea. He doesn’t bother taking notes during lectures because he’s already read all the material for the class. His attendance at lectures is more about the atmosphere than the content, and it was even rarer before he met you.

Even the professors noticed a change in his attitude towards attendance after he met you. It was as if your presence sparked a newfound interest in him to attend lectures more regularly despite already knowing the material.

At the start of the second term, you arrive late to the lecture. To avoid the walk of shame down the stairs to find your friends, you choose to sit next to him at the back of the lecture hall. You side-eye him cautiously the entire time. However, the moment he turns to offer you some tea from his flask, you realise you have misjudged him. You’ve been sitting with him ever since.

If you happen to be in the same seminar group, Wriothesley will bring an extra flask lid to share his tea with you just in case. He’ll also catch you up on any notes you missed while daydreaming or dozing off from a late night of studying.

Wriothesley always hangs back after class, patiently waiting as you pack up your bag. Then, he walks you back to your place, even though his place is on the other side of campus. He says it’s because he enjoys the extra time to discuss the day’s lecture with you. In reality, he simply enjoys your company in any form--no matter the subject of conversation, and the long walk back to his place is just a small price to pay for that.

Wriothesley is the student you never see on campus unless you actively go looking for him. He’s part of the boxing society, so he often comes to lectures and seminars covered in bandages, which only fuels the rumours of him running an underground fight club.

Wriothesley often assumes leadership roles and no one objects. His presence commands both respect and a certain level of fear. It’s not that he actively seeks these positions he just doesn't like injustice. In fact, rumour has it that the previous president of the boxing society abandoned his post after Wriothesley challenged him to a match. The challenge was to verify if the president was truly as skilled as he claimed, or if he was merely rigging matches in his favor. As it turned out, the president was a no-show for the match, leaving the society without a leader. That day, it was unanimously decided that Wriothesley would assume the president’s duties. And he did so without batting an eye. You had been relieved by the strangely peaceful turn of events.

Wriothesley has an anonymous fan club of people who submit extremely blurry pictures and updates of him around campus, unbeknownst to him. You once opened your Instagram to see a picture of him holding the door open for a fellow student, followed by another picture of him helping one of the known aggressive campus cats down from a tree. You'd followed the Instagram page as a joke, but the images were quite cute, so you never unfollowed.

Wriothesley isn’t on any social media platforms, so you two keep in touch via text messages. Initially, you had him saved in your contacts as ‘His Grace’, a playful nod to the way people treat him with the reverence of a duke. But now, you’ve changed his name to ‘Ricecake’, much to his chagrin. He regrets ever letting you in on that annoying nickname. You’re always curious about how he has you saved in his phone. He teases you by saying he’ll show you if you can correctly answer three questions about the class material. But he’s crafty, always making the last question about something you haven’t covered yet in the readings. So, to this day, you still don’t know what your name is on his phone, and you probably never will. That’s just how Wriothesley is, always keeping you on your toes.

Every week, before the lecture, Wriothesley sends you a text asking what you’d like from the campus cafe. He knows your order by heart and doesn’t really need to ask. Plus, he always has his own tea prepared in his flask, so he doesn’t need to spend money there. But he does it anyway, just to see the smile on your face when you rush into the lecture hall, inevitably late, but relieved to have your weekly fix. Initially, he started doing this in an attempt to help you avoid being late to lectures, which didn’t quite work out. But over time, it’s become a habit he cherishes.

Wriothesley is your steadfast study partner in the library. Despite your best intentions, you often find yourself falling asleep at your keyboard, promising each time that it won’t happen again. Yet, there you are, waking up to find fifty pages of the letter ‘L’ on your Word document, and Wriothesley’s large jacket draped over you like a warm blanket. He continues to work quietly beside you, unfazed by your slumber. He doesn’t mind the late nights. In fact, he prefers them, especially when he’s in your company. And even after pulling an all-nighter, he somehow manages to look more put-together than you in your shared 8:30am class the next morning. Every time you call him out on this, he just laughs.

One night, you’re in the library with Wriothesley, half-asleep, buried under a three-thousand-word essay due by noon the next day. In the midst of this academic haze, Wriothesley looks up from his laptop and asks you out on a date.

"You know, there’s this supposedly fantastic spot in town I think we should check out after we're both done with all of this. That is, if you’d like to accompany me?" he suggests. His words hang in the air, a question wrapped in casual conversation.

Startled, you lift your head, which had been precariously balanced on your hand, and quickly wipe away the trace of drool from your mouth. "Huh?" you manage to utter, caught off guard.

Wriothesley leans back in his chair, a fond smile playing on his lips. It’s a look you’ve seen before, but never really pondered over. He’s often looked at you this way, so it’s not entirely unexpected. Yet, this time, it feels different, as if it carries a deeper meaning.

With a hint of amusement in his eyes, he repeats, "I am asking if you’d like to go on a date with me?"

It doesn't surprise anyone when you walk into the lecture late holding hands with Wriothesley. From the beginning, everyone, including your professors, had suspicions about the two of you. After all, the pairing of the quiet, bad boy and you, who always arrived late to lectures, seemed inevitable.

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me, please consider buying me a coffee via Ko-fi!

[sea-of-dust]

Unexpected Affection

Kafka, Stelle,Blade x GN!Reader

Summary: They never really showed this level of affection before...

Notes: 🗿 just gonna cram this in so those two people that unfollowed me come back. Had a werid urge to cram asuka in here he looks like one of those little fluff dogs, dude.

Warnings: suggestive humor and scenes, betrayed audience (IM SORRY 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️),Barely proofread

She's always showing you affection

Touching your hand if you were to sit across from her. Offering to carry you home if too tired. She's very happy to do things for you!

You think her being like this is almost her way of repaying you for being patient while she's out stellaron hunting

She'd text you whenever she was free she'd love seeing how fast you'd respond. "The missions taking a while, I'm sorry if I'm late" you'd type almost immediately after she sent that "don't worry about it! Stay safe." With a small thumbs up emoji afterword. Her heart melts, you can't be this cute.

She loves greeting you by getting home first and sitting down on the couch. "Long time no see~" "Kafka..." the way you say her name she wishes to record it. Your greeting smile and small sweets you prepare for her always make her warm up a bit.

"How did you know I was coming back?" She'd lean into the hug rubbing your arms with her thumb. "I don't so when you don't come back I just kinda eat those alone-" She takes a bag of those snacks with her now, how could you say something like that with a smile on your face-

The longest time she's been out was two months barely being able to text you. So as soon as the mission was done, she excused herself. Waiting for you to come home so she could great you.

"Kaf-" You couldn't even finish your sentence before she kissed you suddenly, holding your hands pinning one to the wall. She kisses you with an eagerness, almost a need for you. You pull away to catch your breath, she'd fail to hide her want for more almost hearts in her eyes. She goes back in holding your waist as she enjoys the long kisses in between short gasps for air. She'll get her fix of you,slipping her toungue in feeling yours squirm everytime they touch, she really can't get enough of you only backing off when she felt shes had enough. "I prepared dinner for us" she wraps her arms around your shoulders, leading you to the dining table completely decorated.

She pulls out a chair for you as you sit down with her and catch up. "So how was the stellaron?" "Alot more active than usual took too much work" a sigh escapes her lips. You two continue to chatter on while eating.

As soon as you two finish eating, she helps you clean up. She can't take your hands off you while you wash dishes. She slowly rock your waist to sync with her movements. She takes off her gloves to touch your face. "As unprovoked as ever" she mumbles leaning into you "Why yes it takes alot of focus to wash dishes" she smiles at the joke leaning in to kiss you "Why yes the dishes are quite a vicious foe"

She just likes being near you. You smell nice...also you're able to keep her from turning into the local raccoon.

you would catch her looking at trash, always somehow be there to pull her away last second. "Come on, Stelle!" You drag her away.

She'd like to place small kisses on your cheek whenever you're not paying attention. She almost did this infront of the star rail crew. "The next planet..." You grab her face, holding her there. "heard that place is hotter than 12 volcano" March and Dan Heng would kinda continue to convo with her kinda stuck there

She can't sleep without you nearby. She's like the demon in the dark you run up the stairs from. She'd just stand there in the doorway as the light kinda makes her look like a shadow. "Uhhh Stelle" "..." you're barely awake yet you could tell it was her. You tsk before lifting your blanket lazily. "Come here" she nearly runs into bed with you cuddling into you. "You need a night light...maybe I'll take one from March" you pat her head as she scoots closer to you.

You had a maid run up to you shrieking about someone jumping out of a closet. "I'll go check it out miss I'll contact you if you it's anything serious" you go to check the room walking in and closing the door. You hear something in the closet and peak in only to have the doors fly open, Stelle almost jumping out trying to stop herself realizing who it was. "So you jump scared the room service lady" she nods "....wanna try that on sampo?"

She gets caught up in boxing and actively shows off how good she is. She always looks for you in the audience and shows off her win. "Congrats Stelle, but put him down!"

She won't admit it but she maybe maybe- likes pda. Maybe she does like holding your hand in public or the thought of you kissing her without a care. You'll never get her to say it tho. She just brushes her fingers on yours, occasionally hoping you'd hold onto her hand.

You found her in a trash can as usual but this time one on her head. You looked at her flabbergasted. "Stelle- get that off of your-" you were interrupted by her pulling it up and kiss you. Her tongue slipping in a bit, lowering the trash can down for a bit of privacy. You pull away, "Stelle what the-" she kisses you again before you pull her off gently "wait till we're on the express k?" You blush softly. She pounts a bit but still waits pulling the trashcan lower.

Turns out she forgot when you got back to the express a few days later when she does remmber tho she nearly runs at you slamming your door. "Eh what?" You rub your eyes seeing the raccoon in all of her glory "Stelle?" Your eyes a bit hazy yet you could still tell it was her, she nearly jumps on you immediately taking off her jacket. "Youre always up to something-" she cuts you off putting a finger to your mouth "shush" she smirks teasingly "been waiting for this for a long while now~" her voice is so calm yet you could almost feel mischief radiating off of her.

She kisses you for a long while, only pulling away to catch her breath quickly going back to it moments later. She didn't even care when March came knocking, wondering where she was. If anything, she just became more passionate. She adores your little tired noises every time she does something to fluster you. The infamous rubbing circles in your back always managed to get an embrassed squeak out of you. As soon as you pull her off breathing heavily, she'll notice just how flustered she made you. Her job was complete staying with you that night so she could do it all again in the morning.

He isn't too open even when in a relationship

You know he loves you he just doesn't say it outloud. You usually have to make moves and he'd slowly respond to those things, he's almost confused. "You're so stiff" you hug him from behind "as stiff as a board~" leaning into him a bit. As you hug him he's not really sure what to do. Does he hug back backward? Does he turn around and hug you? Does he just embrace it? So may questions running through a very straight faced man

The quickest way you flustered him is when you ask about the future while laying your head on his lap. "Blade... you think you might settle down with me when there's no longer stellarons to hunt." He didn't move, but it was clear to see the blush on his face. As he softly pats your head, you could almost hear him mumble a "I want to..."

He offen tries to sneakily hold your hand. "Oh?" He would stay straight faced, holding your hand behind your backs. Gripping your hand a bit tighter sometimes. "Is this your way of being flustered?" "No" he'd squeeze your hand. "Uh huh"

He wants you to braid his hair. He'd sit down with his back facing you, and you'd be so confused. When you finally offered, you could tell he almost ran but didn't wanna embrass himself. "Alright, sit -" he sits with his back turned to you in the same spot as usual. "Oh...so THAT'S what you meant." "What did you think I mean?" "That you were mad at me. " "...." he got his hair braided but still sensed undying guilt

He'd be so confused if you bought him any sort of gift. He's grateful, but... how to use it. "Blade...it's a fake flower, and when ya open it!" You carefully twist off the bud. "It's a chapstick!" He looks down at it, then back at you,"are my lips that crusty. " "No! No! I just got it cause I thought you wanted one! Always notice you staring at mine when I use it" he doesn't tell you, but he's been wondering about indirect kissing via chapstick.

All this thinking of kissing is gonna get in the way of stellron hunting it's too the point Kafka picks up on it and starts teasing him. "Bladie~, you seem flustered." "..." she smirks. "Is it that cute person you're dating!" He's pink trying to hide it, but he's blushing just thinking of you. "Your little play thing surprised you haven't given up on revenge just to stay with them longer." she walks in circles around him, annoying him but fluttering him none the less

He caught you asleep while waiting for him, so he tried to sneak into your arms without waking you. He'd fail...horrendously. you'd feel soft breaths and your arms going around a figure patting your head as you slept. Jokes on him, after you caught him doing this for a multitude of times, you just decided to pretend not to wake. Hopefully, making him feel like he's getting better at this.

He hides his cravings to wanna kiss you, but when he wants them, it's so odvious. He stays around you more often with almost no room for air, his frown deepening and eyes softening almost as if softly begging for something.

When he finally acted on this urge, it was only when you figured it out, kissing his cheek as he turned into a blushing mess. "Oh ho~, it seems someone got a bit excited for that," you smirk teasingly, hugging him. "Did you want one of these too?" His breath was heavy, his hair covering some of his face, but you could tell you had him on the ropes. Suddenly, he cups your face and leans in hesitantly before kissing you, slowly getting more passionate as he grips the clothes near your waist. You softly laugh at this, hearing him scoff, taking this chance you kiss him again in a slightly teasing way as he fully embraces your affection. He gets more egar gripping your clothes a bit tighter as his small kisses turn into deep, long ones with short gaps for air. He'd look so ashamed whenever he pulled away for breath. "If you're tired, we could save it for later." You smirk teasingly. "...just one more," you kiss his cheek. "..." You smirk, kissing his lips. "You're cute whenever you want something, you know"

[educatedsimps]

— you are my sunshine, sakusa kiyoomi

≪ back to fics masterlist

sakusa kiyoomi x anorexic!reader

**TRIGGER WARNINGS: EATING DISORDER (anorexia), slight nsfw (light petting with no penetration, NC16 at most?), swearing PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU MAY BE TRIGGERED BY THE ABOVE TOPICS. please exercise some self-care and enjoy some of our other fics instead! we'll see you in our next post <3

a/n: i really NEEDED TO do this. doing this for my sanity 😭😭😭 - yves

content under the cut!

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," you sang as you drove along the expressway.

"You make me happy, when skies are grey," Sakusa, comfortably seated in the passenger seat, sang in response. He gently squeezed your thigh.

You let out a breath with a smile on your face. That day was an exciting day for the two of you. It was the match between the MSBY Black Jackels and Schweiden Adlers, and Kiyoomi had been a ball of nerves for the past week. So to show your support, you decided to drive your dear passenger princess, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to the Kamei Arena Sendai Gymnasium.

You had spent half a day at the office and the other half dolling yourself up for the match that evening. Kiyoomi frowned at the sheer effort you had put into looking good for him at the match. He grunted out something along the lines of "getting distracted by how pretty Y/n is" and how "You have to be less pretty or I'll have to learn how to fight with my bare fists". You laughed at the thought of your husband trying to smash someone's jaws with his fists when he hated any physical contact with strangers.

After kissing him goodbye at the back gates leading to the MSBY locker rooms, you went to the Ladies and touched up your lipgloss infront of the mirror. As you looked at your reflection, you thought to yourself, maybe I do look good.

Ding!

From: MSBY girlies + Keiji <3

Miyu (Atsumu's GF) [6.43pm] Y/n pookiee~ Are you here yet?

Keiji (Bokuto's fiance) [6.44pm] We're at the VIP section, Row 1. The security guard knows who you are so he'll show you the way in later. You sure you don't want us to come find you?

Kira (Meian's wife) [6.44pm] ahhh can't wait to see you, Y/n! XD

You smiled as you read their messages.

You [6.45pm] I'll be alright, thanks! I'm heading up right now Excited to see you guys too :>

They had been planning to sit together since the start of the new season, after Kiyoomi had formally introduced you to the rest of the team.

As you reached the VIP area, you immediately regretted agreeing to sit with them. Your self-esteem shattered the moment you saw them.

They were drop-dead gorgeous, with their perfect makeup, in their perfect outfits that hugged them in all the right places. They looked straight out of a fashion magazine. It was something about how feminine they looked, and the way they all smiled sweetly when they saw you. So inviting and loving. They were the boys' partners after all.

But they've got to have flaws, right? That's only human.

Their smiles felt genuine, and you could see glimpses of their partners in them. Some were rowdy, hugging you when they saw you and treating you like one of them. They asked you questions about yourself, even getting drinks and snacks for you and including you in the post-game party at Bokuto's place. For a moment, you felt like one of them.

But how can a whole group of people be so damn perfect?

God, how you hated how inferior you felt. The differences between you and them became even more apparent when you saw the post-game pictures that had posted on Instagram. You had only gotten their Insta handles just a day before and were already on the verge of unfollowing.

It was insane how out of place you felt as they sat there so pretty in just their partners' jerseys. Somehow, they still managed to look so good. Unlike you.

Eventually, your brain churned out only one reason - it all came down to how small and delicate they looked compared to you.

How they looked worthy to be the lovers of the MSBY players. How they were pretty enough to be their partners.

It was crazy enough that you were comparing yourself to the Akaashi Keiji. How alluring he was, even just sitting in the same area as you. He was even more beautiful up close, there was something deep within his psyche that was so magnetic. It was evident that he took care of himself, with how his dress shirt clung to his thin waist. You can't help but admire him, and you wondered if your own clothes would ever do you the same favour.

If only you had a waist as small as his.

It scared you how the need to fit in with them became so acute. The hopes of not being the laughing stock of the group fueled the waves of self-hatred that you hadn't felt since high school. You were bullied for being chubbier than average. Teenagers were brutal, especially to anything they perceived to be different.

Obese. Katsudon. Pork planet. They were corny, sure, yet shivers ran down your spine at the memory of those names. Not long after, you started having nightmares of that darned high school. The same bullies, the same by-stander classmates, and the new addition of Kiyoomi in his high school uniform with disgust in his eyes, telling you to break up with him. His back faced you whenever you asked for the reason.

It's because of how fat you are. He'd still love me no matter what right? Right?

And every time you woke up from one of those nightmares, you would wake up sobbing.

Yet every time, Kiyoomi still seemed to be blissfully asleep. You knew he'd always have trouble sleeping before an upcoming match and with him looking so at peace, you never had the heart to wake him up.

He doesn't need to know about this. I'll tell him when morning comes.

But you never came round to telling him about the nightmares. The seeds of doubt from those recurring nightmares started to sprout inside you.

You stopped finishing your meals. You started running with Kiyoomi in the mornings to "spend more time with him". Lunch breaks at work were replaced with attending the pilates class across the street. The cans of Celcius in the fridge were depleting faster than ever. Your daily coffee order changed to an Iced Americanos with 4 shots of espresso.

And when the number on the scale dropped, the grin on your face was evidence enough of how light your heart felt. Nights were long when you spent the first hour waiting for Kiyoomi to fall sleep before you shimmied yourself out of his warm embrace to count the flaws of your body with your reflection in the full length bathroom mirror. With how your waist measurements dipped along with Sakusa's compliments of how much healthier you had become lately, your were giddy with happiness.

But God, did it hurt when you realised you had seemed 'unhealthy' to him in the first place. He could have just called you fat, it's not like you would've crumbled, right?

Hit with the sickening realisation that the voice in your head was right all along, that it was even how Kiyoomi saw you, your tears mixed into the shower water one day after a pilates class. You were glad that your husband was busy at practice and wouldn't come in to take an impromptu shower with you and see you in this wretched state.

Please, please, please, don't prove I'm right.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

"You'll never know, Dear. How much I love you~,"

Your husband sang from the kitchen as you hugged him from behind. With his beefy back against your face and him cooking breakfast, it felt like a blessing so surreal. You wished you'd never have to leave this position.

It's a late Saturday morning and you and Kiyoomi had agreed to have your usual stay-at-home date.

"Eggs?" He looked over his shoulder to you hugging him like an oversized stuffed toy.

"Maybe just egg whites today. I wanna try a new brand of yogurt I got yesterday with the granola I made this week," You replied, stifling a yawn

He nodded in acknowledgement and fetched the carton of egg whites from the fridge as you detached yourself from him and took the cutleries and dishes out of the dishwasher.

"How have you and the girls been? And how's the uh, pilates class you said was kicking your ass?" Kiyoomi asked as he plated his scrambled eggs.

You took the low fat, high protein yogurt out of the fridge as you replied, "It's fun, but I definitely understand why Pilates was made for prisoners."

His eyes were obviously judging you as he laughed to himself. "It can't be that bad. Definitely not as bad as our training when Meian-san is in a bad mood."

You could only sigh with a roll of your eyes. You retorted with an elbow jab to his side, "Why don't you come for class one day and we'll see about that, Mr. I'm-So-Strong."

He squirmed with the frying pan in his hand and a spatula in the other, swatting you away like a fly. You stepped away to giggle at the sight of him using his spatula like a sword in Barbie and the Three Musketeers.

When all was done, the both of you sat down at the small, 4-seater dining area in your home and continued chatting about how the week had gone.

"Itadakimasu!"

And the first thing that Kiyoomi dug into was your yogurt. You stared at him, offended. He ate it as if he was the one who had bought groceries that week.

The moment the yogurt touched his tongue, his face turned as sour as the yogurt he ate. With his face all scrunched up like that, you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as you took the second spoon of yogurt from the same bowl.

“Y/n, I have no clue what’s so nice about this- this bowl of cold, white... glue," he looked at you in pure astonishment.

“That’s because you're supposed to eat it with fruits and granola, Omi-Omi," You stated simply.

You didn’t have the guts to tell him that you were more worried about exceeding your 600 calorie count for the day than how shitty the yogurt tasted.

"Atsumu's rubbing off on you..." he grumbled, making you giggle at the way his face scrunched up at the sound of Atsumu's nickname for him.

After breakfast, the two of you moved over to the sofa to browse Netflix for a show to watch. As usual, Kiyoomi had the remote control in his hand and the other on your thigh. Catching a glimpse of the wide smile on your face, he noticed that your thigh seemed a lot smaller and more toned than before. He glanced down at it, though his face didn't betray his shock.

Since when did your thigh get so small?

"Y/n, you like the size difference between my hand and your leg? Is that why you're smiling so much?" he teased, smiling as you blushed crimson.

"Didn't realise you had a size kink," he whistled, grinning as you slapped his bicep playfully. He tightened his warm grip on your thigh, making you gasp. Your hand reached for his shoulder as you swung yourself from the sofa and onto his lap for a peck on his lips. You could feel him smiling into the kiss before you pulled away.

"Seducing me this early in the morning, babe?" he said, poking your nose lightly with his finger.

You smirked teasingly at him as you moved your hips against his, making him groan softly into your ear.

"Maybe," you drawled, tracing his jawline with your finger before going in for another kiss. This time his lips trapped your tongue, sucking on it greedily. Dopamine rushed to your head as your innocent kiss became a steamy tug of war. His hands ghosted your abdomen and you suddenly became hyperaware of it.

Fuck, he can feel how fat I am.

You instinctively flexed your abs, in an attempt to stop him from feeling the folds of ugly fat around your stomach. His hands held your waist firmly as his thumb traced your abdomen, before coming to gradual stop.

Kiyoomi broke apart from the kiss, leaving your swollen lips to chase after his, but his forehead leaned against yours to signal a stop.

"Babe, what was that?"

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and you weren't sure if it was from the make-out session or his realisation that...

"What was what?" you returned, looking at him with your best attempt at puppy eyes.

You were cold sweating by then, but you hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Are those… abs?" His eyes flew wide, his attention all on you. His eyes were filled with curiosity and oh, how they glimmered so beautifully.

You wished upon the stars you'd never have to lie to those eyes ever again.

"Of course, I just thought maybe you'd like to see a different side of me... a little sexier," you averted his gaze, guiding his hand towards the hem of your oversized shirt.

He lifted your shirt and you saw how his cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red. Burying his face in your chest, he tilted his head up to meet your eyes. "God, I have no clue what to do with you, Y/n."

It was quite evident what he wanted when you felt his shaft become more prominent through his home shorts.

And the rest became a memory you keep with joy. 

Please, please, please, don't bring me to tears when I just did my make up so nice.

But all that joy didn't last when you woke up the next morning, scrutinising your body in front of the mirror.

How could you let him see this? This slob of a body?

Shame clawed at your throat as your fingers tugged at the fat of your stomach. You placed your palm over your collarbones, and they felt sharper than they used to. You knew you'd definitely lost the weight, but the greed to look more dainty than ever had you in a chokehold.

These thighs look so fat. Your arms are so flabby. Gosh, even your armpits are fat. It's hideous.

You're hideous.

And nothing but regret and guilt kept gnawing at your insides like a feral beast. The only solution you came up with was to grab the biggest shirt in the house - his MSBY jersey - and the sweatpants that covered your legs entirely.

In the following days, when Kiyoomi tried to remove any article of clothing from your body, you grabbed his hand to stop him with the excuse that you were tired. But truthfully, your new routine had been wearing you out more than you had anticipated.

His next match was with EJP Raijin on another Saturday night, with crowds roaring from both sides of the arena. You let yourself loose the moment the girls called your name across the hall, running over to hug you.

Your defenses go down as you shared a laugh with the others. When they offered a pack of chips from the snack table, you hesitated. But your inner voice reminded you that you had been fasting since the previous day, so you take the bag of chips with a smile. You felt lightheaded and giddy when a couple of the girls compliment your figure - it was the happiest you'd felt in the past two months.

The hunger pains were worth every bit of this happiness.

During the match break, you found yourself talking to the EJP players' partners as well. When Atsumu's girlfriend introduces you to the other girls and guys, your attention went directly to Suna's fiancée. It's obvious that she was a much smaller build than the other girls but the way her dress hung off of her made you gulp nervously. Your brain was strangely and subconsciously wired to recognise her as competition. She was quiet and elegant, small but eloquent. She was everything you wanted to be.

"Oh, mineral water's fine with me," she said with a smile when you offered her a bottle of Coke Zero.

GUILT GUILT GUILT

It made you choke back tears when you realised how fat you were behaving. Or how bloated you looked right then, with all that carbonation and salt.

And those thoughts immediately got rid of any joy of that day. When you headed home, you tried your best to look happy after Kiyoomi had served the winning goal, but your mind was plagued with the nagging thought of how you had let yourself slip.

Later that night, after snuggling in with your husband and making sure he was fast asleep, you snuck out of his warm embrace. His biceps were so warm, and being sandwiched between his chest and his arm made it hard to leave when it was the best place to be.

You left to burn off the calories from the snacks you had binged on earlier that evening. As you left the bedroom with a yoga mat in arm, you were determined to complete the new routine you had promised yourself in the shower. You wished you could do it without any problems but recently, you had been seeing black spots and felt lightheaded every time you did any physical activity. It was a bitch to have to stop for awhile before continuing your exercises.

The moment you stepped into the shower, sweaty and tired, you didn't notice your husband stirring awake as the warm water hit your body.

Kiyoomi was confused when he woke up to his arm cold and the absence of your body pressed against his. He had been itching with nerves those few months when he realised your behaviour had started changing around him. And that same anxiety only heightened when he heard your sniffles coming from the shower. It was the first time you became so reclused from him. At first, he was worried that you were wringing yourself dry from the amount of work you had, but he later spiralled into thinking that it was because you were falling out of love with him. 

When he heard the bedroom door click open, he hurriedly pretended to be asleep.

Beep. Silence. Beep.

Your sigh made him itching to hug you and ask what happened. But the sigh following the beep of the weighing scale made it clear to him that the number on the weighing scale had somehow upset you one way or another. You approached the full-length mirror and peeked again to make sure your husband was still fast asleep.

You lifted the jersey above your chest, throwing it off to the side of the bed where you slept.

Kiyoomi honestly thought you were about to climb into bed topless (don't ask, he was not in his working mind). But when you stood still in front of the mirror, scrutinising your body like a piece of meat at the market, he could tell that you weren't heading to bed anytime soon.

You pinched at every corner of skin you could find. You looked at the woman in the reflection, and all you could see was the poor girl in high school. Fat and ugly, unlikeable and pitiful.

You then turned to your side, hoping to find comfort in seeing a flatter stomach.

In the dim lights, Kiyoomi could see the outline of your emaciated figure and the faint outline of your ribcage was enough to make him open his eyes fully in shock. The bruises along your spine made him wonder if he had been too rough with you all those times you were intimate. The way your hipbones jutted out were enough to throw him into a pool of anxious thoughts.

Maybe he should talk to you about it tomorrow.

But the last straw was when you muttered under your breath about how fat you still were.

No, he had to talk to you about it ASAP.

The bed creaked as you crawled back into his arms and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He never remembered your waist being so small before.

"Can't sleep?" you asked, turning your head towards him. His eyes opened to see your face in front of him.

He was sure the moonlight was playing tricks on him. Your face had harsh lines that he had never noticed, your nose sharper than ever and eyes bigger than before. Your collarbones peeped out of his jersey, more prominent than he had ever seen.

Fuck, how did it get so bad?

He knew you were trying to get fitter but he never realised you were developing something beyond just healthy habits. Kiyoomi could only blame himself for being so absorbed by his recent matches. For not noticing you were harming yourself.

He nodded and you snuggled into his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist comfortably. His thumb ran down your back in an effort to calm you both. Chills ran down his spine when he felt every ridge and bump of your vertebrate. It made him question how he had never noticed everything come crashing down.

"Babe, you okay? Aren't you be happy? Your team won today's match," you looked up into his eyes which were filled with concern. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought.

"How... how did you get so small?" he breathed.

You gulped. Things could only go south from here.

He continued. "I didn't realise it but when Atsumu mentioned it last week, I couldn't help but notice how much weight you've actually lost. Is it even safe to lose this much?"

He held you like you'd slip through his fingers at any moment, like water in a broken plastic cup.

You tried to avoid the topic, tried to look away but he wouldn't let you.

"...Atsumu? What did he say, specifically?" your eyes turned cold the second he mentioned his teammate.

What did he have anything to do with this?

Kiyoomi sat up against the bed frame before sighing deeply. "He was just asking if you were okay, 'cause you didn't seem as energetic as usual. And you can't argue with me, you have lost quite a bit of weight."

You knew that it was taking a lot out of him to talk about this, especially since he was never a confrontational person. It had to mean a lot to him, for him to face a situation like this head on.

"I'm-"

"No, Y/n. You're not fine. Have you been eating well? No, scratch that- have you been eating at all?"

You could feel the waterworks about to start, you felt the back of your eyes warming. Your fingernails dug into your palm, as if you could physically stop the tears from falling.

"I... I ate just now. With the girls," you whispered.

"A Proper Meal, babe. Not one of those 'girl dinner' crap you used to pull in college," he gritted out.

You let out a breath.

"2 days ago. Dinner," your voice cracked, and the waterworks had officially begun. Shame erupted in your chest.

"Fuck," Kiyoomi cursed under his breath.

He couldn't believe this was the same Y/n that would drag him out to enjoy their favourite foods together after a tiring day of practice and work. The same Y/n that enjoyed cooking together with him. The same Y/n that had monthly competitions with him to see who could finish more sushi plates at the conveyor belt sushi restaurant down the street.

It was the same Y/N that deprived herself of any food for days because she saw nothing but ugly, unwanted fat on her emaciated body.

Kiyoomi was speechless. He blinked several times, willing the tears welling up in his eyes not to fall but it was useless. You saw the way his tears rolled down his face along with his sharp intake of breath. He had never thought his wife would do something like this.

The guilt of not noticing what was happening to you was eating him alive.

He managed to calm himself down slightly before doing the only thing he could think of in the moment. He pulled you in and held you tight.

"Please," he whispered. Hugging you close, he begged, "Please don't take my sunshine away."

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 15

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

Daniel Ricardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

warnings: the internet is horrible, slut shaming

not proofread

series masterlist | previous | next

-

“Us?” Max sat up a little straighter “Okay..sure” You looked at him with concern “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this..It’s just so.. I don’t know how to describe it. And kelly told me to talk to you about it and..” You sigh.

Max’s jaw clenched, eyes searching your for anything, anything that proves he’s hearing it wrong.

“You’re not..breaking up with me, are you?” He asked quietly, vulnerable and for the first time in a long time, you see tears welling up in his eyes that he chockes down as well as he can.

“What? No!” You turn to him and take his face in your hands “Why would you think that? I’m talking about Daniel and the risk of someone else outing us. We’re not the most popular people, but we’re still known..”

“Oh..yeah of course” You tilt your head “Why would you think I would…That’s ridiculous” You say quietly. Max nods “I know, it just sounded so serious and..I don’t want to loose you” Liar.

He really didn’t want to loose you, but he also knew everything was perfectly fine between you…right?

“I just want to think forward and see if we should come out with our relationship before anyone else does” Max nods “Maybe we should”

“It’s not like people aren’t on us. I’ve seen two or three comments, suspecting we’re soft launching each other, which is true but.. they don’t know that” You chuckle and max smiles.

“Alright. Let’s do it, hmm?” He smiles “You mean now? A hard launch?” He shrugs “Why not? It’s not like anything will change if we wait”

You nod and hesitantly pull out your phone. Max looks through your camera roll with you and you select a few pictures.

“Alright, there is no going back if we do this now” You look at your phone and then at Max. He smiles gently and pulls you in for a kiss “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” “No I do, it’s just gonna be a lot. I already know what people are gonna say.”

“Are they in our relationship? Are they sitting next to us?” “No” “That’s how much they matter” He brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

You quickly pressed the post button and put your phone on silent. You passed it onto the couch table “How about we finish dinner and then look?” Max asks, still brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Yes, that sounds amazing”

-

yn

liked by carlossainz, kellypiquet, oscarpiastri and 1 m others

yn Alexa, play ‘ordinary’ by alex warren 💜

*tagged maxfewtrell*

logansargent WHAT

alexandrasaintmleux cuties ❤️

user ah, first daniel now max, who’s next?

user famous brother isn’t enough? What a slut

kellypiquet fav couple 💜

user Omg I knew itttt

user perfect enemies to lovers 🥹

user they compliment each other so well 👏

franciscagomez you no longer have to 3rd any of our dates, DOUBLE DATES YESS

user hm, and lando is neither in the likes nor comments..

-

landonorris

liked by danielriccardo, estebanocon, mclaren and 1 m others

lando keeping it real 🙂‍↕️😉

user ohhh he shooting

user what kind of circus is this?

danielriccardo 🤪🤪

mclaren reunited 🤩

user no sight of yn or max, something is definitely wrong

user good for you two! You don’t need backstabbing siblings and friends 👏👏

user she’s such a bitch, ruining everyone’s friendship

-

f1gossip

f1gossip It’s about to get interesting! Earlier in the day, Yn norris and Max Fewtrell officially announced that they are a couple. There was no support shown from her brother. The couple unfollowed the mclaren driver after he posted Pictures with Ex-teammate and rumoured (ex) boyfriend Daniel Riccardo of Yn from last year! Did the norris duo split due to the new couple? Did Yn actually cheat on Daniel with Max?

user this is crazy

user always knew she was just in for the fame

user does she even work? Lando was probably paying for everything.

user she actually graduated top in her class at university and took a break before wanting to go into her field

user Fewtrell is such a backstabber. His best friends sister? Lame.

user am I the only one who thinks they’re cute?

-

“This is ridiculous! They all side with him” Alexandra put her hands on her hips and threw her phone on the table. You don’t say anything, staring at the table. After you and Max finished eating, Alexandra and Charles came over, wanting to check on you after neither of you answered their phones.

“Have you spoken to your mom?” Charles asked “No” You say quietly “Maybe you should at least do that? I’m sure she already tried contacting you” Max says gently.

You turn your head to look at the couch table, where your phone was still laying from earlier. You sigh and get up, seeing if your mom had texted, which she did.

-

You and Max did exactly what your mom said. Lay low and don’t let it get to you. It was the only right thing you’d have to do.

“I was thinking..maybe opening a new account” You say quietly as you draw patterns on Max’s chest “For instagram?” You nod “But like just friends. I still wanna share my life with my friends but not have everyone watch us” He smiles and kissed your cheek “Sure, that sounds nice”

You lay your head down as his fingers draw comforting circles onto your back “Didn’t you have a stream planned for today?” “Cancelled it. I’m not reading the bullshit they’re writing about you.”

You look at him from your laying view “Thank you” He looks at you “For what?” “For being here, not leaving me..” His eyes softened “We went against our own feelings, to not hurt his feelings, now he won’t even hear what you have to say about your feelings. I’ll forever be by your side”

You tear up a bit and smile, lifting your head up “I love you” It slips out before you can stop it. Colour drains from your face “Oh uhm- I mean-“ Max pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

As he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours “I love you too”

-

maxfewtrell added to their story

quadrant

liked by riabish, keeganpalmer, angryginge13 and 729.539 others

quadrant We are sad to announce that Max and Yn are leaving the Quadrant Family. We only wish the best for these two and they’ll always be a part of us 💛

user the hard launch, The landan pics, the unfollowing, max’s story and now this? Oh something definitely went down

riabish :(((

user rightfully so. They don’t deserve it.

user fucking fame addicted assholes

user nooooo

user imagine we would’ve gotten a couples shoot. It would’ve been iconic

user to fuck your best friends sister is nothing to be proud of

user she ruined a life long friendship just to get dicked down. Slut honestly

-

yn deleted 56 posts

yn followed norris.yn

maxfewtrell followed norris.yn

-

a bit short I think..? But oh well, Max has no one told you that not being honest is gonna make things worse when you’re partner is unaware 👀

I feel like this is fast paced.. Is is fast paced or is it just me?

[cupidsblonde]

story synopsis returning to your life in japan was exciting, but when you enroll back into ua university, go back to the bakugos, go back to bar tending, you find yourself always around this guy…? “sero hanta”

missin something - Zach Templar

being with your girls again was all you could ever ask for. you all sitting on the bathroom floor, your own mirrors in front of you, doing your makeup.

“okay… so” mina pausing as she finishes her eyeliner with a swoop of the eyeliner pen.

you and jirou finishing the things you where doing on your faces and looking at her.

“hm?” you hum at her

mina sighs just a little bit and starts “so… i was talking to kami earlier and he said that he and kiri will be at the bonnie” mina exclaims.

“oh that’s fun! i can’t wait to see them again i missed them.” you say

“without their third?” jirou questions

“huh … what do you mean…?” you say with an eyebrow raised.

“oh my fuck.” you say when you realize.

“i mean it can’t be that bad… right?” you mutter out, almost laughing.

mina and jirou fake laugh and then pull straight faces

”girl we love you but it’s definitely going to be awkward if you run into him.” jirou states, she says it like it’s the obvious. which it kinda was.

“buttttt it would only be awkward if you guys make it right?” mina says shrugs, going back to finishing her eyes makeup.

“your right, what’s he look like now?” you ask, curious.

now of course you always knew he was fine, he was attractive. but when you unfollowed him on everything, you did that so you could get over him.

you missed him, as a friend of course.

but when mina whipped out her phone and showed his instagram…. you where in a better mindset now. you needed to pounce on that… and quickly.

“oh my GOD he’s so fine guys” you say snatching mina’s phone.

“i hear he thinks your fine too.” jirou says outlining her lips with a dark red.

your eyes brighten. “okay i’m so pouncing on that”

you pull out your phone and search his account.

you waste no time in pressing the follow button, you hoped he would follow you back. because if he didn’t, you didn’t know what you would do.

“waiiittttt let’s take pictures so he can see you posted something.” mina suggests

“ooo yes let’s!!” you exclaim as it seamed that you all finished your makeup at the same time.

“you should do the knife pose” mina says, digital camera in her hand.

“that’s so perfect, i’ll go grab the cool knife” jirou says running out of the bathroom of your shared apartment.

”wait who’s poem eater on insta?” mina asks as she turns to jirou.

jirou just stares at you guys “did i not tell you?” she says genuine shock spread across her face

“….my girlfriend?”

“WHHHAAAATTTT” are what flows out from both

“you guys are so slow i cant” jirou says doubling over from laughter

both you and mina roll your eyes

“you should invite her out tonight!!” you say, wanting to meet this mystery girl.

“i will” jirou says dismissing your antics.

“okay let’s goooo!!” mina yells dragging you guys out of the door.

prev || masterlist || next

perma tag- @poemeater

taglist!!- @nobodybutnnoorr @morgyyyyyyy @eepyariiiiii @keylozinzazane

[kaiispost]

Charles Leclerc x artist!male reader

Fake Media | Face Claim: no one | y/n is a pop artist

announcement: i’m officially back for a lil while

***

yourinstagram

liked by charlesleclerc and 1,547,359 others

yourinstagram you can take me hot to go!!

view all 3,388 comments

charlesleclerc watching me win?

* liked by yourinstagram

taylorswift not even inviting me?

dojacat icon

ferrari so let’s ride!

f1 vroom 🏎️ 💨

charlifanxcx collab with charli when?

*liked by yourinstagram

charlixcx

*tagged yourinstagram

liked by 2,346,299 users

charlixcx the 360 remix with yourstagename out this friday.

view all 11,248 conments

yourinstagram can’t wait for them to hear it…

spotify they ain’t ready

theshaderoom thot daughter and gay son 😭

charlesleclerc brat summer and it’s the same but i’m in the music video so it’s not

taylorswift can’t wait to hear yourstagename

lizzobeeating he’s so julia!

*liked by yourinstagram

charlixcxdaily waitttt this is going to be ICONIC! 🤭

ynisfather OMGGG FINALLYYY😭

mileycyrus ommfgggg!

ynleclerc literally everyone rn

charlesleclerc

liked by yourinstagram and 2,486,086

charlesleclerc bumpin’ that

view all 5,497 comments

yourinstagram i’m everywhere i’m so julia!

applemusic oh absolutely!

juliafox so stylish!

ynfan1 wait so it’s basically confirmed?😭

leclercxyourname yess omgg!!! also him sitting infront of yourname’s piano?

charlixcx literally their fav reference 🥲

tmz 👀🔍🎹

sza this is going to be such an epic record

f1 bumpin that beat!

yournamedaily omg even THE f1 account is in on this?? oh they’re endgame

yourinstagram

liked by charlesleclerc and 2,005,342 others

yourinstagram the 360 remix with me out now everywhere! thank you to everyone who was in the music video, it was fun :)

view all 6,455 comments

charlixcx thank you for being on the remix

yourinstagram omg it was so fun to record, the bts is crazy.

billboard instant cult classic

spotify ur such an icon

charlesleclerc that was so fun to film, especially the the aftermath 😉

leclercdaily WAIT WHAT OMGGG YALL ARE CRAZY

sza that was such a lit party, u should def host another party soon!

arianagrande made so many core memories

troyesivan legendary

yndaily on repeat all day

f1driversdaily

liked by ynhater2 and 6,789,206 others

f1driversdaily charles via yourname’s story

view all 33,957 comments

ynhater2 ewww this is gross, i thought the f1 was safe… i guess not🤢

antilgbt right, this is a sad day for all f1 fans

sza babe this is so embarrassing for u… touch some grass and smoke a blunt, stop being weird.

f1fanpage OMGONGOGMOMG

sza ugh so happy for themmm

normalpeople32 god no, THEY got charles

christonly1 can we not promote this behaviour?

ylnstarsign this is so hot

yourlocalchurch god will lead him to the right path

yourinstagram no thanks!

zendaya y’all so weird, their relationship doesn’t have any effect on you whatsoever. you people be so miserable and single, get a life.

zendaily spot on!

yn4life yes absolutely zendaya!!! ilysmmm for thisss

yourinstagram

* tagged charlesleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc and 11,496,937 others

yourinstagram we did it, number one on the charts! these last couple of weeks have been crazy, ily charles for going through it with me and staying with me. forever grateful ❤️‍🩹

view all 45,496 comments

charlesleclerc forever yours ♾️

charlixcx WE DID ITTT ILYILYILYILY

chrlixcxfanpge U DID IT, UR FIRST NUMBER 1

sabrinacarpenter so happy for you and charli🥹

yourinstagram when r u and barry coming overrr

billieeilish sososososososo proud of uuuu, uuu made itt andd urr sooo loveddd

rayeofficial ahhhhhh soo happy for the two of u love birds and congrats charli on ur first number one!!

yndaily YESSS YALL FINALLY OFFICIAL

ynleclerc yessss ur finally outt

haterofsin i’m unfollowing, this is despicable

ynhater2 🤢 don’t shove it down our throat, it’s nasty

fanofyn these hate comments are so💀

nickjonas so glad to have been a part of this video!

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Six

Dandelion

Chapter Summary: Six years pass and you find yourself back in Wabang.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI (not really a warning but the reader does have a sister and I decided to name her, I just looked up what was the most popular name in 1998 Wyoming and chose that one lol)

Word Count: 2,700ish

A/N: Yikes!! I'm back and with so much inspiration you guys. Please excuse this chapter, it is honestly not that great but when I was editing it I just didn't know how to fix it. I hope you love it anyway!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

Fall 2022

You hated lines. You hated them more than anything. The thought of having to wait still with people in the front and back of you? Hell no. But here you are, waiting in line with your baby sister (you really shouldn't say baby, she’s twenty-four now), Madison and about four of her friends to purchase tickets for the Amelia County Fair. She used the excuse that she hadn't seen you in forever to convince you to go, even though you had work early tomorrow. 

Two months ago you came back, for good… probably. 

After you finished your Masters in Social Work a job opened up in Denver, Colorado. Well paying and far away from Wabang, just what you wanted. You had spent six whole years there making new friends, had a few boyfriends, and even your own apartment. 

Madison’s grip tightened on your elbow as the line moved up a foot or two, dragging you on like you were the little sister. 

Six years was long enough to make you forget about Perry and the Abbotts. It rarely entered your mind, you were twenty-nine now so there was no use freaking out over something that happened when you were twenty-three. Your parents were wildly understanding when you told them you broke up with Perry, but that’s probably because you didn't tell them any more of the story. 

Your dad never mentioned anything about the ring, even though you know Perry asked him for his permission. He never told your mom either, or else you knew she would surely be devastated. 

You were happy for Perry, you really were. Your mom told you he got married and had a baby some time after you left, a little girl named Amy. You sometimes saw Cecilia’s posts on Facebook, she was a cute little girl and probably everything Perry would have ever wanted. Every other post was of Amy at a 4H meeting or something she drew that got hung up on the fridge, always with his pretty wife too. 

You had to wonder if she really was happy in that tiny house, your ma says she isn't, always hearing about how her and Perry fight like dogs about it. Cecilia’s words, not hers, she always clarifies. 

As for Rhett, you certainly saw him less frequently. Sure, he was in some of Cecilia’s Facebook posts, but he hardly ever posted on his socials (like he ever did in the first place). To be honest, you unfollowed the whole family on all social media. 

The only time you would look was when you were definitely under the influence and  super, super bored. 

Sometimes your job didn't allow you to go home on holidays, but you tried the best you could on all major ones. 

The last time you saw him was four years ago at your family’s Fourth of July BBQ. Rhett was of course handsome, how could he ever not be? In a plain cornflower blue t-shirt and jeans, he looked almost monochromatic. You two kept your distance in the short time he was there, Cecilia probably dragged him along probably with the promise to Perry that she wouldn't stay there for too long as your mom and her were still best friends.

It is beyond ridiculous looking back from where you are now in life but you didn't know if you should be embarrassed or incredibly turned on when you went back inside for a lighter and found Rhett sitting on the same couch he fucked you in front of. Just chilling with one of your uncles (which then wiped away all forms of desire and just left you with this icky feeling in your chest that you defiled your family’s home). 

Finally, you were at the front of the line. The woman taking your cash had a tired expression on her face, counting the bills quickly before asking your group, “Only two dollars more for tickets that include the rodeo. Wanna upgrade?” 

You internally groaned as your sister and her friends immediately started bickering, trying to decide if that two dollars extra would be worth it. Looking up at the sky, it started to gradually turn into a pretty deep orange in the horizon. Hugging your denim jacket closer, you were thankful you brought it. It was nice to finally be back in your usual garb, rather than your business casual all day every day. 

“I think we should!” A voice rose above the rest. You looked down from the sky and your eyes landed on Maria, a girl your sister admittedly wasn't too close with, but someone she considered a friend anyways. 

Maria turned towards the woman, her shiny dark hair whipping around her shoulders as she confirmed the ‘upgrade’ in tickets. Reaching into your pocket you reluctantly pulled out your wallet and plucked two bills out, handing them to Madison who coupled them with hers, handing it into the woman. You watched as she flipped half-heartedly through the paper and turned around in her little booth, grabbing an ink pad and stamp. 

Maria was the first one to go, eagerly pushing her fist under the glass cut out and the rest of your group followed through, you being the last one. A soft, “Thank you.” Left your lips as you smiled at the woman who kept her head down through the whole interaction. 

When you finally caught up with your sister you grabbed her elbow as she did yours, leaning into her ear as you two walked, “Why is Maria so eager to watch?” You murmured softly as to not catch the attention of the other girls.

“I dunno, probably some guy she likes is riding tonight. She chose the day we were coming here too.” Madison whispered back and you rolled your eyes. So Maria is the one to blame for your sister politely demanding you go this day rather than another day that worked better for you.

With the group you walked around till sundown, stuffed full with fry bread and ice cream. A few times Madison bought something and begged you to try it. Fried oreos, loaded fries, pleading with you as she tried her hardest to offer you a fried pickle spear that you were insistent on declining on account of all the other fried foods you ate earlier. 

-

You didn’t get a sip of water till you sat down in the stadium seats, twisting off the top of your plastic bottle you basically downed the whole thing in one sitting. 

Mutton busting was always a fan favorite, sweet little kids with ridiculous names like Gunnar and Zadie holding on for dear life as their crisp white sheep zips through the arena. The family of one of the kids sat right behind your group, hooting and hollering as their little TrudyMae was one of the last girls still holding on. 

“Wanna go to the concession stand?” Your sister’s unexpected whisper startled you, whipping your head around to playfully glare at her.

“Yeah of course I do.” You smacked her shoulder and got up, swinging your leg over the empty seats in front of you. 

Down at the concession stand, you both got a cup of cheap beer.

“Why does this literally taste like ass?” Madison exclaimed as you started walking away from the booth, her face wrinkled up as she leaned over to steal a sip yours, disappointed to see that it tasted the exact same. You shrugged your shoulders and looked at the lonely ice cube swimming in the yellow liquid, it indeed tasted horrible. 

“I dunno, makes me wonder why everyone gets it.” You laugh, looking around at all the people around you also holding the clear solo cups. 

When you made it back to the stairs, a handsome man was standing at the top. He smiled at you under a thick mustache, stepping to the side as you climbed the stairs. You smiled sheepishly back, heat reaching your cheeks as he tipped his head towards you, the brim of his cowboy hat covering his eyes. 

“Howdy.” He drawled, the gold chain under his button up glinting in the stadium lights.

“Hey.” You replied, almost tripping over your boots as you passed him. 

When you were a safe enough distance away, your sister squealed like a toddler, grabbing your shoulder and shaking, “Oh my god did you see that? He was so cute! And he was looking directly at you.” She gushed, and you did admit the interaction did make you lighter on your feet. 

Your beer sloshed as you grabbed on to the railing to steady yourself. 

Opening your mouth in an attempt to say something witty, you glance up into the stands and your blood goes cold. Perry and his parents were sitting almost all the way at the top, a little blonde girl was sitting next to him, swinging her legs and playing on someone’s phone. 

“Why are the Abbotts here?” 

Madison stopped in her tracks and raised an eyebrow at you, “Girl, what?” 

“Don’t ‘girl what’ me. I’m just… I don't know, I didn’t expect them to be here.” You mutter frantically as you desperately try to get her to start walking again, the two of you stopped almost directly in front of their section. 

She started moving again, pursing her lips, “I thought you were over Perry. You know he has a kid-” 

“I am! You know I am. Let’s just drop it, Madison.” You cut her off before she could say anything else, closing in on your section. 

Bull riding had already begun, the rodeo clown was running around and clinging onto fences as the bull charged him, the crowd around you laughing hysterically at his ridiculous outfit and his attempts to distract the animal from hurting the rider that got flung to the ground. 

You sipped on your warm beer as you watched man after man, not paying attention to the scores or really what the announcer was saying. You glanced over a few times to look at the Abbotts, thankfully a group was always standing in front of them, prohibiting you from seeing them, so you stopped. 

“Alright Amelia County, let’s hear it for our local boy, Rhett Abbott.” 

Immediately, your ears perked up at the sound of the announcer, promptly abandoning the hangnail you were chewing on in favor of scanning the back fencing to find Rhett. 

“He’s gonna be ridin’ Twister, one of the more ranked bulls you're gonna see here tonight.” 

The MC’s voice was almost drowned out by all the excitement going on around you, seemingly everyone there for Rhett. As the guys in front of you stood up to watch, so did you, rapidly jumping to your feet to see over them. You did a double take to the side, Maria standing the same time you did, her hands coming to her mouth to project her voice. 

Rhett was locked in the chute straddling a massive gray bull, you could barely make out his facial expression with how far away you were. Before he could even wrap the rope around his hand, Twister was already getting anxious and ramming his spotted flank against the metal of the pen. 

In the time that it took you to blink, he was out. Truly, it felt like the longest six seconds of your life. Rhett barely made it out of the chute, Twister bucking and flinging his body every which way. 

A gasp left your body when Rhett’s body hit the ground, everyone around you groaning in defeat. Your eyes flicked to the scoreboard and you sat when you saw the results. 

“Damn, was hopin’ for a better ride from him.” Muttered Madison, crossing her jean clad legs.

“Bummer.” Chirped her friend on her other side, nodding in agreement. Leaning forward a bit you wondered what Maria would say, waiting for her exclamation. She just looked disappointed, pulling out her phone. 

-

It was time to go home, but you strayed from the group. When you got down from the stands, Madison eagerly pointed you in the direction of the mustached man you encountered earlier, giddy when you finally gave in and said you would try to go find him. 

Making your way through the hoards of people, you headed over to behind the arena where the contestants park their trailers. You really weren't allowed in this part of the grounds, but as long as you looked confident, no one would question you. You were certainly dressed the part of a bull rider's girlfriend anyways. 

A white straw hat was what you were searching for, which would be pretty uncommon since the weather was getting colder. He was pretty tall too, which made it even easier to spot him when you did, making you instantly smile and start speed walking towards him. 

The mysterious man had his back to you, chatting with others who you could only assume to be his friends. 

In your hurry to get to him you accidentally clash shoulders with a random man headed opposite of you. In any other circumstance you would stop and apologize profusely, but you were on a mission. 

Turning your body halfway, you start side stepping, “Oh my- I’m so sorry, sorry mister!” 

You cringed as he gave you a dirty look and waved you off, making you press your teeth together tightly as you turned. 

A tuft of weeds in the otherwise smooth dirt path gets under your feet, making you stumble and trip on your own shoes. To make it even worse, you are suddenly met with someone’s chest. You start falling backwards, your arms go up instinctively but whoever you just ran into grabs your forearms right before you fall back on your ass. 

“Thank you, god I am so, so sorry sir. I-” You begin to ramble trying to regain your balance. You try to pull your arms back but are met with resistance, looking up in confusion why this man won't let you go. 

It’s like in the movies, the whole world goes quiet around you two.

“You're back.” Rhett states, looking down at you. His cheek was already showing signs of bruising and his eye was bloodshot, probably from the face-first fall he took in the arena. 

Nodding, your heart quickened at the realization of your closeness. 

If he wasn't all muscle then, he sure was now. Rhett was still sporting the longer hair, darker in color but still long enough to curl behind his ears like it did six years ago. He wasn't clean shaven anymore either, the lightest bit of stubble dusting his jaw that you now notice was also bruised up. 

“I am.” You confirm, voice trembling the tiniest bit, “Two months ago. I live in Lander.” Long gone was the thought of the other man you were searching for. Rhett’s gorgeous blue eyes searched yours, he had light wrinkles around them and between his eyebrows. 

“Why?” Rhett asks like it has a simple answer. He asks it like he’s talking about the weather or how birds know to chirp. 

He’s still holding your arms hostage, but when you glance down from his face you find your own hands fisting the thick leather vest he has on. 

Looking up, you tilt your head the tiniest bit. His breath fanning out on your face in soft puffs. He smells like sweat, beer, and dirt. It envelops you like warmth on a summer day. 

“My dad is uh… he’s sick. So I’m helpin’ my momma take care of him.” It was a lot more complicated than that. 

“‘m sorry, I had no idea-”

“It’s okay, how could you know?” Your thumbs rubbed over the leather, the frayed stitching fibers moving up and down with each stroke.

Rhett looked up from your face and at the dying crowd around you, looking like he was searching for something. Turning your face in the direction he was staring, you saw nothing and went back to him. 

Every unresolved repressed feeling you had within the last six years pushed its way into your throat, suffocating you completely. 

Letting go of his vest, you pulled against his hands, “I gotta go, Madison’s waiting for me.” You whispered, Rhett’s eyes snapping back to yours.

“Just, just stay a little longer-” Rhett starts, furrowing his brow. You shake your head and he finally releases you reluctantly, his palms sliding from your wrists to your hands, letting go finally as his fingertips brush yours. 

That was the second time you ran away from Rhett Abbott. 

See me on AO3 as Creatchie8 too for a full list of tags & more!

[n0vazsq]

Fame | Matt Sturniolo x Reader

pairing . . . matt sturniolo x small!creator!reader

summary . . . When Matt Sturniolo suddenly follows you on instagram, you message him to try to get him to answer your questions

request . . . yes!!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . the moodboard is so bad im sorry like i tried making it good but it was shitty asl </3 anyhow i hope you guys like this and tysm for reading!! also idk how matt talks bc i never watched the sturniolo triplets so i hope this is accuracte!!

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . It started with a follow.

You were sitting cross legged on your bed, scrolling through your phone while mentally debating if you should edit your latest vlog or leave it for later. Procrastination had won the battle, again, so there you were, mindlessly switching between TikTok and Instagram. The notifications were nothing new, a few likes here, a couple of DMs there. Nothing that really grabbed your attention.

Until you saw it.

matthew.sturniolo has followed you.

You blinked, feeling your heart skip a beat. Then, as if the words might change if you stared long enough, you double checked. Yup. Matt Sturniolo, the Matt Sturniolo, was now following you.

You weren’t delusional. You knew who he was. One third of the Sturniolo Triplets, someone you’d seen all over your For You page with his hilarious jokes and presence.

You were still growing as an influencer and had been gaining some attraction lately, but you were far from being 'big'. That’s what made it all the more surreal. Why would he follow you?

You stared at his name for a solid minute, thumb hovering over the DM button.

"No, no, no," you muttered to yourself. "Don’t be weird. Just act normal. He probably hit follow by accident."

Still, your curiosity got the better of you. Before you knew it, you tapped on his profile, scrolling through his posts. That familiar mix of car photos, group pictures with his brothers, and some other photos that showed his softer side.

You’d always found him cute, but seeing that little blue checkmark next to his name on your notification tab? Yeah, that hit different.

You told yourself you wouldn’t message him.

But then you absolutely did.

You: hey! random question but did you mean to follow me or was that an accident?

As soon as you sent it, you tossed your phone onto the bed, face buried in your hands. Why did you have to say anything? You could feel the secondhand embarrassment creeping in even though he hadn’t replied yet.

But when you picked your phone up ten minutes later, expecting radio silence, you saw the little notification that made your breath hitch.

matthew.sturniolo has replied.

You opened the message with slightly shaky fingers.

Matt: nah it wasn’t an accident. your content popped up on my fyp a couple times. you’re really funny, i thought i’d follow. also cute

Your jaw dropped. You read his message three times just to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

You: wait, what??? you’ve seen my stuff??

Matt: yeah! you’re growing fast tho, i’m not surprised you’re showing up more

You grinned so hard your cheeks hurt. Matt Sturniolo had actually seen your content. You’d have to call your best friend later and freak out properly, but for now, you tried to play it cool.

You: okay that’s insane, tysm!! sorry for thinking you hit follow by accident

Matt: it's alright

Matt: i mean i could unfollow if that’s what you want

You: don’t you dare

And just like that, the floodgates opened.

What started as one random message turned into a back and forth that stretched out across the day. Matt was funny and easy to talk to, the kind of person who made conversation feel natural.

At first, you just talked about random stuff like your videos, his upcoming projects, what it was like being an influencer. But as the days passed, your messages grew longer and the topics deeper.

Late night conversations about favorite childhood memories, life goals, and stupid inside jokes you’d developed over time.

Matt: you ever get those nights where you’re just sitting there like ‘what am i even doing with my life?’

You: literally me at 2am every other day. glad i’m not alone.

Matt: nah you’re good. you’re actually killing it

You: oh wow, matthew sturniolo complimenting me? screenshotting for proof

Matt: yeah yeah, chill before i take it back

You laughed into your pillow more often than you cared to admit. He was quick to tease but always managed to make you feel seen.

And yeah, maybe there was something there, a little bit of extra charm in the way he typed. Nothing over the top, but enough to make your stomach flutter.

It was about a month later when he dropped the question.

Matt: not to sound weird or anything but i feel like i’ve known you forever lmao. wanna meet up sometime? get coffee or something?

You froze mid scroll. Meet up? As in, in person? You reread the message, pulse racing. What was he thinking? What were you thinking? You tried to play it cool, but the butterflies in your stomach had other plans.

You: i’d like that!!

Matt: bet. are you around LA this weekend?

Lucky for you, you were. Your brain was already going into overdrive as you mentally planned an outfit, tried to figure out what you’d say, and convinced yourself not to freak out.

Saturday came faster than you expected. The moment you saw him waiting outside the coffee shop, dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and a baseball cap, your nerves evaporated just a little. He spotted you almost immediately, his face lighting up with a smile.

"You made it," he said as you approached.

"Did you think I was gonna bail?" you teased, earning a laugh from him.

"No, you don’t seem like the type."

The conversation flowed just as easily in person as it had online. Over coffee, you found yourself forgetting the 'Matt Sturniolo' everyone knew from the internet. He was just Matt, a little quieter than his brothers, funny, and ridiculously easy to be around.

He asked about your family, your goals, and what inspired you to start creating content. You asked him about growing up in the spotlight, what his brothers were really like behind the scenes, and whether he ever got tired of the constant attention.

"Sometimes," he admitted, swirling his drink with his straw. "But it’s worth it when I get to meet beautiful people like you."

Your face flushed, and you had to look away to hide your smile.

The meetup turned into something more. Days turned into weeks, and suddenly, Matt had become a constant in your life. Whether it was late night FaceTimes, sending each other playlists, or just tagging each other in memes, there was a bond between you two that neither of you could ignore.

"You’re my favorite distraction," Matt joked one night while you were on the phone.

"Is that your way of saying I’m annoying?" you shot back.

"Nah," he said softly. "It’s my way of saying you’re kinda special."

And in that moment, you knew.

What started with a follow had become so much more. Matt wasn’t just someone you looked up to anymore; he was someone you could count on, someone who made you laugh, and someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

Your career was growing, sure, but so was something else, something you hadn’t expected. And as Matt sent you another late night message that simply said "goodnight, talk to you tomorrow?" you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

And immediately after that, you two made it official.

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[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

2 - Cold Enough To Chill My Bones

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: swearing, Sam being mean to Jake again, Jake being exceedingly arrogant, blink and you miss the mention of Jake masturbating to a picture of Sam

WC: 3.1k

A/N: Jake is a simp. That is all.

Playlist

Sam was going to make Jake sweat a bit. She had accidentally pressed the follow button that night, and then in the morning she unfollowed him. He hadn’t liked any of her pictures yet, assuming he’d seen his notifications. She was sure he had but maybe he decided not to like anything. There was a lot. Something like five thousand posts. On Sam's end, shed found Neil, as he had been a suggested follow, and then found many of the other pilots she’d seen last night. She was going to wait to follow the rest of them until she met them, though a couple of them hadn’t hesitated to request to follow her. 

4 new follow requests

bob.floydWSO, hotcoyote, foghornleghorn, and paybackfitch

She spent the first hour of her morning in bed, just scrolling through all their pictures like a creep, but they did follow her first and they hadn’t even met her, except Rueben. Once she got bored of that she decided to get up and get breakfast. She let Rocco, her little red dachshund puppy out while she checked to see if her father was up. It was so odd to see his and her mother’s filled with medical supplies. The ventilator and heart rate monitors sat unused since his first occurrence of the cancer. She walked toward the bed and saw that he was still sleeping and she elected not to disturb him. She decided to take a stroll down the beach with Rocco. 

By the time she got back, he had gotten up and was just making his way into the kitchen. His health had been declining and it had been hard for him to make it to her graduation, but by the grace of God and with the help of all of the people around him, they’d made it possible. 

He sat down at the kitchen island. He’d gotten up and gotten dressed in his normal attire, and her mother Sarah had made breakfast earlier, leaving some leftovers in the fridge for Sam. It was difficult for him to eat solid foods as his cancer had destroyed his esophagus so he normally had something he could sip through a straw. Sarah had gotten creative with all kinds of smoothies and shakes and adding protein powders and such to keep him going. 

Sam took Rocco’s leash off and set him free before crossing the kitchen and hugging her father from behind. They’d developed a language, a silent one, that had become unique to them, but this morning, Sam had a little more than their silence could express.

“Do you know a Jake Seresin ?” She asked and he nodded and smiled. He gave her a thumbs up and then grabbed his phone and pulled up his notes app. He typed something and then showed it to her.

Good pilot. Big ego.

Sam smirked and chuckled before hugging Ice again. He typed out something else.

What are you doing today?

“I’m going to go sit on the beach and read, might bring my laptop and get ahead on some of next week's work. I’ll take Rocco too.” She said and he smiled and hugged her as he stood, ready to head to his office. They’d set up a spot in the house that he could stay and work from. He typed out a response and showed it to her.

Enjoy. Don’t work too hard.

She smiled up at him and he rubbed his hand over the back of her neck as he pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, and then he walked slowly to his office. She went back up to her room and took her time, putting her bikini on, a cute little lime green number with a push up bra top and the bottom with gold rings at her hip bones. She then added a sheer black cover up, and the same flip flops from last night. She put her laptop in her bag, and her phone. She packed a few water bottles for herself and one for Rocco, as well as his folding dog bowl. She clipped his leash on and he excitedly leapt out the door. She put her sunglasses on. She slung a beach blanket over her shoulder and headed toward the beach. The morning air was warm and the breeze smelled wonderfully like the sea. There was a faint hint of jet fuel in the air as well, to be expected being near the naval aviation base. 

She picked a great spot in the middle of the beach, where there was no one around for at least a mile each way. She laid her blanket out and put her bag down as she got comfortable. Rocco sat comfortably next to her, just watching the seagulls go by. When he was bored of that, he whined and laid down. Sam scratched his head and then his long back and he wagged his tail. She put some sunscreen on. She opened her laptop and opened up her work email. She replied to some emails that she’d gotten and worked on a spreadsheet for next week’s numbers. Her phone vibrated.

1 new follow request

jseresin90

She smirked. She knew he couldn’t resist. She decided to sit on his request for a couple of hours. She got a head start on a report for next week, and then closed her laptop. She took a tennis ball out of her bag and threw it for a bit for Rocco. He liked to rip the fuzz off of them, so when he got tired of running back and forth, he just took it to the edge of the blanket and ripped the fuzzy bits off. She felt her phone vibrate again. She took her headphones from her bag and popped one in one ear, leaving the other free just to be safe. She didn’t think anyone was going to kidnap or kill her, especially here, but it didn’t hurt to be careful anyway.

Message request

jseresin90: hey

Sam shook her head. He was persistent, she’d give him that. She accepted his follow and message request and then re-requested to follow him. Of course, he accepted almost immediately.

whitehotkazansky: you must really want something from me

jseresin90: just wanna buy you dinner, pretty girl

whitehotkazansky: not interested

jseresin90: your dad is a big deal around here

whitehotkazansky: 🙃

She opened her Audible app and put on a romance book that she’d been trying to finish. The narrator's voice filled her headphones, talking about the main character and how quickly they’d fallen in love with the ranch hand. The notification bell dinged on her phone, interrupting the book. Four fucking times.

jseresin90: whats the harm in one dinner? 

jseresin90: or lunch?

jseresin90: breakfast?

jseresin90: maybe a snack?????

jseresin90: you could be my snack 😏

whitehotkazansky: jake i will strangle you if you dont leave me tf alone rn

jseresin90: whatchadoin?

whitehotkazansky: none of your business

jseresin90: where do you work? Do you work???? Do you just hang out at home and refuse dates from hot guys?

whitehotkazansky: bye jake 😘

She turned her notifications off, finding bliss as she closed her eyes and listened to the book in the warmth of the morning sun. She had fallen asleep at some point and woke up to Rocco growling next to her head.

“What’s up, Rocco?” She asked as she yawned and rolled over. There was a tall man in athletic shorts and a t-shirt standing above her, looking down at her from beneath his aviators. 

“What the fuck.” She rasped, pulling her legs up and sitting cross legged. The man squatted and pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi.” He said with a wide smile.

“How the fuck did you find me.” She demanded and he blew air from his pursed lips.

“Your best friend is one of my co-pilots...she said you asked about me...and I asked about you, and I’m really fuckin’ intrigued that your dad is thee Iceman Kazansky. ” He explained, putting one of the temples of his sunglasses between his teeth. Rocco decided to waddle his cute little dachshund butt over to Jake, wagging his tail and Jake reached down to gently scratch the little dog's long back. 

“So much betrayal.” Sam joked and Jake smirked. 

“So, about dinner.” He asked, chewing on the earpiece of his sunglasses. Sam sighed heavily but she smiled up at him. A few of the other pilots had followed him, and she assumed they’d gone for a run or something together. 

“C’mon, Bagman, leave the poor girl alone.” She heard another male voice and recognized Bradley Bradshaw immediately. She’d met Bradley a long time ago, when he’d first entered the Top Gun program. They’d flirted, they’d even hooked up once, but Bradley was not the man for Sam. Bradley didn’t even like women. Nonetheless, he always had a soft spot for Sam. He smiled at her and introduced her to Bob Floyd, who had decided to go with them. 

“Nice to meet you.” Sam said and then she looked at Jake with a satisfied grin. “Bagman, huh?”

“ Hangman . But Jake to you, pretty girl .” He said and Rooster pulled him up out of his squat.

“Seriously, Hangman, leave her be .” Rooster said and began to drag him away. Jake saluted her and turned with slumped shoulders. 

Sam laughed and watched him as he was pulled away. He was quite good looking. But his attitude was unreal. Who did he think he was? The arrogance had Sam both horny and annoyed, a very bad combination for keeping promises to one's self.

Later that day, after Sam had gone home and taken a nap. She woke up to more messages from Jake.

jseresin90: I looked through your entire insta

jseresin90: youre really pretty

jseresin90: you've been all over the world that's nuts

jseresin90: I mean I've been a lot of places for active duty but damn

jseresin90: just give me a chance you won't regret it

She really was amazed. The set of balls it took to keep at this...

whitehotkazansky: where would you take me if I said yes?

He was quick to respond.

jseresin90: the nicest restaurant I could

whitehotkazansky: and where would that be 🤨

jseresin90: place on the waterfront called the Marine Room

whitehotkazansky: that where you take all your one night stands?

jseresin90: I don't take anyone there unless they're really special 

Sam left the conversation there for the night. Every time she was on a base with her father, this happened. Some guy fell for her, she'd let him take her out on a few dates, and then she'd find out that they just wanted to get in her pants, or rather up her skirt. It drove her insane. She would play it all the same way too. Rude and callous to try to deter them but there was always one. And Jake was apparently the one here.

🛩🛩🛩

Jake laid in his bed that night, listening to Nat, Bob, Bradley, and Javy watching some football game. Javy wanted to catch up and he’d invited Rueben and Neil too, but they’d left early. Jake still couldn’t believe Javy kept the place here, but it was good that he did, otherwise they'd be staying on base in barracks and that would suck. Jake needed his own space. He wanted his own space, where he could have quiet moments to himself. He kept checking his phone, willing Sam to message him back, but she never did. Usually girls fell head over heels for him. Usually girls fawned over him. Usually it only took him one ask before they were begging him to be in their bed or his. 

This girl was different though. It was like she had no time for his shit, no time for his games and his flirting. She didn’t want to give him the time of day. It didn’t even bother him that Iceman was her father. Jake was a highly decorated Lieutenant. Ice knew he was a good pilot. Jake had even been compared to Ice more than once. So why would Ice have any problem with his daughter dating the Lieutenant? He shouldn’t. And Jake wasn’t a fucking pussy like all the rest of these guys, who were afraid of getting kicked out of the Navy for dating the Fleet Commander’s daughter. Fuck that. Jake was going to go after what he wanted, and that was Iceman Kazansky’s daughter. 

But for right now, all he had was the pictures on her Instagram, so he picked one where she was in the same pretty little lime green bikini as today, and had a date with his hand and some lube for the night. He needed release and it was the only way he was going to get it right now.

🛩🛩🛩

In the morning, Sam headed downstairs to find her father sitting at the kitchen island again. He was staring down at his phone. She kissed him on the cheek and said good morning, then went in the fridge and grabbed some fruit. Her mother had already been in and through with breakfast for him, and had taken Mark and Alexandra on a road trip for the day. They were out of school for the summer, and Alex was trying to tour colleges. Too much travel stressed Ice’s body, so he had to stay home, but today, he wanted to go to the base. That was about as far as he could go, every once in a while, without getting too exhausted. He let Sam eat a bit and then held his phone up.

Would you drive me to the base today? Want to meet all the pilots for the special detachment. Miss the jets too.

“Sure, dad. Let me just go get a little cleaned up.” Sam said as she chuckled to herself, finishing her fruit quickly. She knew he wasn’t in a rush, and the nice thing was that time stood still when he was in the room. His time was valuable to everyone, so whenever he got there, everything stopped for him. That didn’t mean she didn’t respect his time though. She knew he only had so much energy, so the quicker she got ready, the more time he had for what he wanted and she wanted to give him that. 

She decided on a dress, a cotton material that was a light dusty rose type of pink. It had long sleeves and stopped just at the top of her knees. The neck was a shallow v and it had a string that tied around her midsection, just for accent purposes. She put a necklace on and a few bracelets on each wrist. Nothing special or terribly fancy, just random ones all matching rose gold. She also added a few rings on both hands, mostly on her pinkies and pointer fingers, again all rose gold. She carried a small purse, a light brown in color that would fit her phone, keys, and a chapstick. She did simple makeup, just black eyeliner and a little mascara to bring out the pretty chocolate brown of her eyes. 

He walked slowly and she helped him navigate the stairs and the step up into the truck. She liked driving his big ass Ford King Ranch around. Her mother did not and since he didn’t drive anymore, he’d given it to Sam. Her brother would get the other Ford, an F-150, and Alex would get the Mustang because that’s what she wanted. 

When they arrived at the base, she followed her dad to the main building that overlooked all the jets, neatly parked, and the tarmac. All this time when she’d gone with her father to work in all different places and different bases, and she’s still never been up in one of the jets. Only regular airplanes. She assumed it was a much different experience. They met Rear Admiral Solomon ‘Warlock’ Bates, and then the Vice Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson at the entrance to the building and they both hugged her and shook her father’s hand. They knew he couldn’t speak much.

As they walked along the corridors, Sam glanced out the windows and saw pilots standing around on the tarmac. Some of them looked like they were warming up for a run, a couple of them were doing push ups, and the rest stood around. She thought she saw Jake. She knew it was inevitable but she was kind of hoping they weren’t going out there. But they did.

When they got down to the airstrip, Maverick was there to greet them. He hugged Ice and then Sam. He took over from there, introducing his company of Top Gun pilots to her and her dad. Ice knew most of them, but reintroductions were necessary anyway. He introduced everyone by their callsigns only and when he got to Hangman, Sam nodded and folded her arms across her chest.

“Bagman, isn’t it?” She mused, gaining surprised looks from the Admirals and a look of satisfaction from her father. He watched with pride as his daughter gave the cocky pilot the business. 

“C’mon, pretty girl, don’t do me like that.” Jake sighed. The rest of the pilots all stood stone faced. They couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth.

“Not planning on doing you at all, Jake .” She said with a smirk, and he stepped closer to her, attempting to save himself from further embarrassment. 

“I’m not askin’ for that. I’m just askin’ for a chance, sweetheart. Just dinner. Just one time.” He said, his voice low, his pretty sage green eyes pleading with her. Her eyes darted to all of the other pilots, all standing in stunned silence, and she decided she couldn’t be cruel any longer, especially with Maverick staring at her, as if he was the one expecting resolution, not Jake. But before she responded, she gave her father a quick look. He nodded and smiled. 

“Fine. Pick me up at 5.” Sam said, as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. She’d worn flats, but she was wishing she’d gone through the pain of putting on heels because she would’ve given her life to see Jake’s face as she walked away. 

“Wear something fancy for me!” He yelled after her and she heard the cheers and the sound of bodies shuffling and hands patting Jake’s flight suit. She glanced back and saw that even though he was being bombarded with hugs and rough congratulations, he was still staring after her. 

As she continued on with her father and the two Admirals, he bumped her arm with his. He typed out something on his notes app and showed it to her.

I used to be that arrogant. I like him. But he better not hurt my girl.

She smiled wide and put an arm around her father. He did the same, his arm around her shoulders as they walked. She could tell he was getting tired, so they headed to a room upstairs where he could sit and watch the jets for a bit before they headed home. As they entered and he sat, Sam had a little chuckle to herself and touched Ice on his shoulder. He glanced up and she said, “Dad, I think I could do more damage to him than he could to me.” And they both laughed.

[grapeszn]

genuinely starting to think someone's gotten into my account and hacked me bc this shit is too weird like. every 2 minutes my followers AND following list keeps decreasing and its so awkward bc ppl who i knew in real life and have been following for years might think i've voluntarily unfollowed them

my instagram has now started randomly unfollowing a bunch of accounts i've been following for years...........why am i being targeted like this

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

WAIT, HELP, WHY DON'T CHARLES AND MAX FOLLOW EACH OTHER ON INSTAGRAM? WHAT DID I MISS?

It all starts at the Red bull ring, better known as the temple of lestappen. It's where our boys shared the podium for the first time in F1 in 2019 and that race in particular is also the reason why they don't follow each other on social media lmao.

So our boys start 1-2, Charles in pole position starts well while Max has issues with his antistall that cause him to drop down to eighth after the first couple of turns. Max recovers and starts marching through the field. Around lap 23 Charles pits and Lewis takes the lead of the race but he damages his front wing by going wide and driving over a sausage kerb so he had to pit for a replacement and Max, then p2, inherited the lead. He then pits the following lap, handing the lead back to Charles and the stage is set for him to charge through Seb and Bottas to battle Charles for the win. And that's what happened with three laps to go, when Max managed to pass Charles. Now lap 69 - I'm not even kidding lmao - is where the drama happens, ofc Charles is going to fight Max for the win and Max is going to fight to hold onto the win, so Max takes a wide line through the corner on the inside of Charles, they do make contact and Charles leaves the track and drives over kerb as a result. Max holds onto the win and Charles is absolutely pissed.

Now these pictures are hilarious to look at when you think about how they were theree years later, the second time they shared the podium in Austria;

But yeah 2019, Charles pretty pissed and he felt Max should've gotten a penalty or something from the stewards but the stewards deemed it a legal move.

Now this is pivotal, not just in the story of Max and Charles, but in Charles' own story and career in formula 1. It's a turning point for him. He takes note of this situation and is very much like "well if he can do it, so can I" and "I'm just as good as him and I'm going to prove that to myself, to him and to the world" from then on out. He's more aggressive and takes more risks post Austria 2019, and he goes on to win in Spa and Monza that year. Max finishes in P3 in the championship, Charles finishes P4, just twelve points between them. They finish the year in Abu Dhabi with another podium, this time Max is in P2 and Charles is in P3.

During the media exchanges post race Austria 2019, Max is asked about Charles and gets "is this going to affect you two" type questions and Max is like "why wouldn't we be ok? we're going home on the same flight so*shrugs*". At some point post the race Charles unfollows Max on social media because until then, they had followed each other and it should be noted that Charles typically follows everyone on the grid with the exception of Max (+ Bottas, he likely unfollowed because of the bowling incident of the Hungarian gp 2021 lmao, Charles is many things, consistently petty included 😂😭). So they do share a flight home to Monaco, on Max's jet I'm pretty sure lmao, and it's just so funny to imagine a petty, pissed Charles sitting across from Max, who is most likely completely unaware about the unfollowing, and waiting for him to notice lmao. Max or whoever runs Max's account majority of the time, also unfollowed Charles in turn. They've tagged each other in posts over the years (such as Seb's leaving dinner) so they know the others @, and they like posts about the other, but neither has made the move to refollow the other on their public Instagrams which is funny and so petty and so annoying all at the same time lmfao. The follow button is too much for them lmao.