#villa hence

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

i understand the intent of fic being like “kerry eurodyne? 89 year old globally famous rockerboy?! He doesn’t have a mr. Studd” like i get it the implication that he’s down to earth and not like lizzy wizzy and humanity vs machine blah blah blah but can you imagine the length of his fucking ball sack. how am i supposed to mentally reconcile this. he doesn’t get a mr. Studd but he does have to go in for monthly cyber-botox for his balls? they’re absolutely smooth no wrinkles.

[fairene]

beneath the moonlight / ln4

vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister

no use of y/n, as always.

prompt ⋯ ohhh hey ! wanted to stop by to say i love ur fic and wanted to request insatiable lando with max f’s sister like a forbidden summer fling with all their friends and no one’s supposed to know about their secret relationship ( especially max ) — @444mercss

a/n ⋯ this was much longer than i intended, but the words just kept flowing out of me. thank you to all those who beta read my post and helped with grammar!!! ( @jamminvroomvroom , @theonottsbxtch ) you all helped so much. and thank you to mercs for requesting this. i didn't know i'd enjoy it as much as i did, but it definitely was for 20k words. i'll probably take a week ( or maybe not ) off from writing just to give myself a cool down period, but still here to answer any asks. feel free to pop in. hope you all enjoy this, and remember, readers looks are up for interpretation, along with the outfits. colors of coloring are mention only briefly!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, oral(m+f)!receiving, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, feral lando. best friends little sister, brothers best friend dynamic, mutual pining, 'games', horny thoughts. much, much more. but even, possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.

wc ⋯ 20.1k (WHEWWW WEEE... edited by @jamminvroomvroom, @theonottsbxtch)

the summertime was one of your favorites. you and all of the rest of your girlfriend’s would spend each and every day together without question. but as time went on, they got their own lives. partners, engagements, jobs. not to say that you weren’t an accomplished young lady, but it was starting to show that you were hung up on a life that was starting to fade.

your brother on the other hand, was keen on keeping you in this life. in tip top shape on your toes, he’d always challenge you in a multitude of ways. or annoy you to no end. typically it was the latter. 

but he had invited you this summer on vacation with his friends. you knew them all relatively well, texted here and there, but you never imagined to be trailing along on a villa getaway sponsored by the quadrant house, mainly the famous lando norris himself. 

you would be shy to admit it, but you had a bit of a soft spot for lando. him and his cheeky smile. the moles that donned his face. his starlit eyes that radiated an emerald hue beneath the sunlight. it was intangible the way that you could pick apart the details about his nuanced beauty, but it was a secret for you to keep.  a secret that no one, especially your brother, could ever find out about.

but that’s all that it was, wasn’t it?

a dream. a pathetic fantasy. you wouldn’t ever gain the courage to talk to him, make a move, despite how often him and max talk about going on dates with girls. talking about his love life, or the rather drab there of. he fucked around a lot, max knew that, and would consistently warn you to never get wrapped up in the same lifestyle as the british driver. you’d hold up your hands in defense, shrieking a ‘don’t worry about me,’ though you wish you gave him a reason to.

why did you feel undeserving of lando– because he was a formula one driver? attractive? charming? were you afraid that you were going to be friendzoned–? oh god, that would be the fucking worst, wouldn’t it? you could never imagine the hangouts being the same. so you’d bite your tongue until it bled, even when your body yearned for the heat of his own. 

the villa that you would be staying at was on lake como in italy. it was a beautiful venue, a place that you’d been dreaming of visiting. max knew this, hence why he’d probably sniped you an invite. but it wasn’t like no one wanted you there. everyone did. that was the problem. you were so incredibly loved by all of max’s friends, that he kept them at arm’s length. no one would ever hurt his little sister. not while he was still breathing. 

“wow,” you breathed, stepping out of the uber from the airport. the house before you was a stunning makeup of eccentric architecture that dated decades before your own birth. it was a grand building with tall, marble columns. thoroughly decorated landscaping, and even had running fountains in the front. you were so lost in your awe that you didn’t see the huge pair of mahogany doors swing open. 

“max,” you turned your head towards your brother who was grabbing your bags from the trunk. you shifted to the source of the voice, finding the british driver standing barefoot with a beach flannel and short-inseam khaki shorts low around his waist. you gulped before looking anywhere else but him. 

“lando!” max approached him, arm outstretched for a shake. lando met him half way down the marbled steps, taking his sunglasses off from the top of his head. 

“how was the flight, mate? good?” max nodded for the both of you whilst you fiddled with the accessories around your hands. you didn’t ever know what to say to lando. you found yourself unbelievably speechless in his presence. 

“not too bad, ‘specially if this is what you’ve got.” lando chuckled at your brother’s words, and then his eyes finally landed on you. you and your comfortable outfit from the plane ride over. you and your pulled back hair, respectfully messy, and the jewelry that adorned your fingers. his eyes caught over the bling, and how you anxiously picked away at the skin. 

“never thought she’d grace our presence,” lando said jokingly, which had your head snapping upright. you flushed, sucking your bottom lip with your teeth. 

max rolled his eyes, avoidant of the topic of you in general. “whatever, mate, she’s here now, in’she?” what? what was that supposed to mean? was your presence requested? you suddenly felt wanted above all things. 

“she certainly is.” lando approached you with his tongue tucked behind his bottom lip, hasty in his steps. you stood up straighter with a light smile on your face, eyes twinkling away from his own. you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “c’mon, love, i’ll take your bags.” 

“are you sure? i can take–”

the bags were grabbed from your hands. you felt the palm of his own for just a moment— the warm flesh, humming low against his own. you felt like he spoke to you through your blood, but you let it go. lando norris wasn’t giving you special attention, that’s for sure. 

you promised yourself that much. this whimsical, airy crush of yours needed to be vetted on the spot. he was your brother’s best friend, older than you, and certainly didn’t have time for a girl who wasn’t a celebrity. 

right?

he took your bags through the exquisite villa. the interior was even more luxurious than you could ever imagine– floor to ceiling windows, candlelit ceiling lights, flora decorating each wall that you turned to. it smelled delectable, too, wafting germanium and coconut oil. the smile on your face couldn’t be ignored, as you shimmered brighter than the summer sun. 

“you like it, then?” came lando’s voice. your head dropped, glancing at him from where he stood, waiting for you to join him on the steps. had he been watching your face? 

“you’re joking.” you assured, hands clasped together. “it’s beautiful.” 

lando smiled then, too, letting his lower lip snatch between his top teeth. he tried hard to conceal his happiness, but you felt like you could feel it amongst the air. you felt warm all of a sudden and cleared your throat, urging him forward up the spiraling staircase. 

you walked in silence with him down the long corridors. you would pause before each door briefly, wondering if he was going to open it, but he didn’t. it wasn’t until you were reaching the ends of the hallway when he stopped, twisting the knob of the white wooden door. he stood aside, letting you in first. 

the room you’d be staying in for the next few weeks was more than you could ever dream of. with its spacious interior, personal bathroom, and private balcony, you felt like the luckiest girl alive to be able to experience this. to live in this moment. to be here. in italy, of all places. 

lando interrupted your dreaming haze by sliding the bags in. you turned to face him in your unruly, exhausted glory, and he stared at you. a hand of his found the back of his neck. 

“so…dinner tonight at seven, pool day tomorrow, um…” he looked around, acting as if he could suddenly have the words appear into his head. “oh and, if you need anything, my room’s just next door.” 

he said it with haste, as if he were shy about the fact, and was already stepping out the door. 

“wait,” you said, stepping forward. lando hung back, gripping onto the door frame, swinging his head back into the room. “thank you.” 

the words seemed to hit him harder than you thought that it would. he blushed a light red, dimming his tanned face, and cleared his throat before nodding. “of course.” he said with out hesitance, making it clear that he would do this for anyone. “‘m glad you’re here.” 

and then he was gone. 

you stared at the shut door in stunned silence. did you really hear him correctly? 

you didn’t let your thoughts linger too long, but you couldn’t help but let it. the curly-haired brunette stayed in your mind whilst you settled in and unpacked. all ounce of his shy, gaunt nature. 

by the evening you were more than settled and relaxed. you’d taken a small nap to rejuvenate your energy, and just in the nick of time for dinner. you got ready amply, sliding a comfortable dress over the surface of your body. the straps were thin and fell loose upon your collarbones. you’d pair an elegant pair of low rise heels on your feet, pointy-toed, that matched the color of your dress.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the dim yellow lighting illuminating the corners of your face that you so frequently forgot to appreciate. it was in the hours of the night that you could appreciate yourself, unopposed to the gawking looks of strangers. 

there was a soft knock on your door at 6:57. you turned, dress swaying from your movements, and cracked it open. 

lando stood there on the other side. him and his dark shirt and khaki pants. he wore a pair of leather black loafers that matched his shirt. he smelled good, too, a masculine tint of sauvage. 

no words were spoken between the two of you. you simply stared at one another, lost in each other’s features. you resisted the urge to trace the moles on his face with a finger, whilst he fought himself to not reach out and run his hands along the fabric of your dress. 

his eyes softened when you met his, cheeks filled with a simple kind of joy. the two of you were done ogling at one another, still foreign in each other’s presence. 

“ready?” he asked. you nodded, grabbing a matching handbag from the countertop and slung it over your arm. you shut the door to your room behind you and walked a few paces behind lando. you weren’t close with him like that to walk side by side.

or so you thought.

he dragged his feet to slow his pace, coming parallel to your side. he held his breath for a moment, turning to look at the exposed skin from your dress. you caught his wandering eyes and looked up at him, wandering beneath his emerald depths. 

“what?” you asked tenderly, voice hitching in your throat. 

“nothing.” he turned his head to face back forward. “just haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all.” 

that was an understatement. you haven’t seen lando in almost three years. max had done a stellar job of wanting to keep you separated from his friends, though you weren’t upset about it. you had your own life, and that was perfectly enough for you. 

but you were a girl with a heart full of wanderlust, and often dreamed of what you could’ve had. there was a marksmith of delusion prodding the hidden parts of your brain, working tirelessly to pick apart the small interactions you’ve had with lando over the years. 

when you turned 18, he brought you to an exclusive club and showered you with gifts, alcohol, and even more. it was a night you wouldn’t forget, feeling lucky enough to manage a dance with him on the dance floor. his hands hovered above your body, the warmth seeping through your skin, rattling your bones. he even got so close to your face that you could feel his breath. smell the alcohol that reeked from him. 

you thought you were going to kiss. 

and so did he. 

but your brother separated the two of you, calling lando over for a group shot. you were left there, stranded on the dance floor, with the phantom touch of a man that you knew you could never have. it pained you to admit such a truth to yourself, but it didn’t loiter. you had a life to get back to, not indulge some silly, fanatical dream that kept you up late at night as a teenager. lando norris was the fantasy, never to become a reality. 

though, every time in presence, you’d manage to falter. set those delusions free the second he’d act kindly to you; gentle, tender tenacity that you believed would be special to you. max’s little sister. that’s all you were, though, weren’t you? 

“you’ve been well, haven’t you?” you asked him with a hum, holding your bag with both hands in front of you. the leather piece bucked against your abdomen. lando watched, peering to see if he could hold it for you. 

“‘course. living my dream, aren’t i?” you’d made it to the end of the hallway. the top of the staircase. 

“it’s not a dream.” you said with a softer intonation. he looked back towards you with a raised brow. “it’s reality now, i’d reckon.” 

he smiled. 

the two of you made it down the steps. you lingered in the grand foyer, beneath the candlelit chandelier. it was still light outside, but the sun was beginning to set. it had created a pink and blue hue over the water’s edge. 

but you weren’t looking at the water’s edge. 

you were looking at lando. your brother’s best friend. he had his hands in his pockets, facing the open living room, rocking back and forth on his heels. you cut your way to his line of sight staring upward at him. he looked down at you, wondering what you were searching for.

you had considered not doing what you were about to do. you really did!

but your hand was already outstretched, the tips of your fingers grazing over the grown facial hair on his chin. he didn’t jolt from the action and merely stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide from the warmth of your touch. 

“i like it,” you commented before taking your hand away, finding yourself into much deep trouble if max had seen the two of you. 

“yeah?” lando asked, suddenly much closer to you. 

“makes you look older and manly.” you rolled your eyes. 

“what? i wasn’t manly before?” 

your hand rolled over your mouth to withhold a laugh. “i’ve seen you weep at the sight of fish.” 

lando’s face lit up and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. “doesn’t make me any less of a man.” he crossed his arms. 

“really?” 

“just enthusiastic. don’t see a problem with having a bit of character.” you didn’t argue with him further when you saw your brother and other group friends join one another in the living room. they made their way closer to the two of you.

you took a step back from lando. he couldn’t take his eyes off the action, his face falling instinctively. it’s nothing. his expressions mean nothing. they’re not for you. 

“c’mon, i’m starvin’.” max called, slapping lando on the back. sure enough, you were walking out the door behind your brother, everyone trailing in an orderly manner. 

you heard lando call your name from in front of max. you hummed in response. “you’ll ride with me, yeah?” you blushed. how could you not? max turned his head over his shoulder, his voice saying nothing, but his eyes telling all. he knows how you felt about lando when you were younger. 

he knows, he knows, he knows. but surely, surely you’ve gotten over that little crush of yours. and lando, too, hadn’t harbored any feelings towards you either? surely, surely he couldn’t. you were his little sister. and max knew how lando treated girls as of late. 

it left a sour taste in his mouth, but he said nothing when you nodded, brushing past him. 

lando opened the door for you. his mclaren was a two seater, comfortable, and roared to life when lando turned over the engine. you couldn’t help but laugh feeling the seat vibrate beneath your thighs. it was a feeling of exhilaration that you hadn’t felt in a long time, but a feeling that came perpetually with lando’s presence. being with him made you feel alive, more alive than the years you’d walked this earth. 

your excitement had done things to him as well. his eyes were glued to how you reacted, enthralled by your visceral enthusiasm to being in such a tangible sports car. your fingertips grazed across the leather interior of the door handle. 

“gonna jump out on me?” 

you shifted in the leather seat, crossing your legs over one another. there was a heat building inside of you, deep in your core. 

“not if you don’t give me a reason to.”

he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.” 

you smiled to yourself, looking down at your fiddling hands. lando stepped on the gas and pulled out of the villa’s extraneously long driveway, leading the pack of friends behind him. 

“you look fit.” came his voice, nervous, beneath his breath. your eyes caught his side profile, all rough edges of it. “beautiful, but your brother’d have me by the balls if he heard me say that.” 

your breaths were heavy in your chest. “then don’t let him.” 

lando’s head whipped to meet your eyes, hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. you weren’t even sure what you were implying with your words, but he hoped that he wasn’t misinterpreting them. god forbid he didn’t understand. you didn’t brush him off like you did as a child, didn’t stumble away bashfully. now, in your grown state, you faced him head on. you challenged him, just as he suspected you would. 

“between us, then?” 

you nodded, tongue coming to wet your bottom lip. you made a motion of a lock and key against them, throwing the key out the window. he watched, but was drawn back to the road. that was one of the fastest car rides you’ve ever been in with that roaring engine, feeling like you had stepped into the biggest unknown of your very existence. 

the restaurant that lando had made reservations for was absolutely beautiful. you couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve been awed by the sites you’ve seen, but you couldn’t help yourself. you were simply one of the luckiest girls with even richer friends. 

lando opened the car door for you, sprinting to the other side. you found yourself laughing at the action, finding his urgency cute. 

you stepped out of the car and you immediately found your brother, his stance idle before he marched over to you. 

“he say anything to you?” 

you flushed. between us, then?

“no. what would he say?” 

max didn’t elaborate and simply settled for a huff from his nose. lando had been handing off his car to the valet man when he met up with the two of you. your other friends were in tow, eight of you in total, and made it inside the restaurant with ease.

you didn’t even think about what the seating arrangement would be. not until lando pulled out a chair for you, beside him, and you had no other choice but to settle in. not like you were complaining though. 

but max was going to. you could see the look on his face when he sat opposite to you, flashing you a pair of warning eyes. but you didn’t know what warranted them– you didn’t even say anything to lando, more or less. 

you furrowed your brows at him, feeling far too old for these insolent glances, and picked up the menu. lando sat next to you, mirroring your actions. you placed the napkin on your lap, a polite etiquette you’ve always precluded dinners with. 

“ah– look,” you leaned into lando’s space, the heat from his body, the cologne from his shirt, sifting through your nose. it was tempting. “for you.” 

your finger pointed to the blackened cod that they had on the menu. lando met you half way, looming over your shoulder at what you were pointing at. as soon as he read it, he scoffed. “fuck off.” you couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to stifle the sound the best you could.

“don’t do that,” lando’s voice came firm, but soft against your ears. he was talking just loud enough for the two of you to be able to hear. you glanced quickly at max, who was lost in conversation with his buddies. 

“what?” 

“hide your laugh.” you guessed you didn’t realize how often you muffled yourself. your hand lowered to your lap. “you used to do it when you were a teenager, too.” he pointed. you thought for a moment, realizing that he was right. “never understood why. especially since it’s so pretty.”

you froze, staring up at him with weary eyes. he looked confused at your expression. your hand came to slap his bicep. “stop it.” but you were teasing him. he saw right through your tone. 

“don’t let him, ‘s what you said, right?” 

you swallowed. nodded your head. 

his mouth dipped to your ear. his breath hot, just like your cheeks. “he won’t hear a thing then, will he?” lando’s nose brushed against your scalp, and you thought for a moment, dreamed, that he would plant a kiss upon your head. but his lips simply hovered, breaths warming your strands of hair. 

but you turned your head to meet his eyes, shaking his contact off. he noticed. tensed. “but he can see, you imbecile.” 

that had lando laughing. your face broke with a smile, unable to resist his intoxicating gestures. he simply shrugged, letting you win this one, and his arm came to sling over the back of your chair. his fingertips grazed the strands of your dress, dipping down to your bare shoulders. your posture straightened against the chair, legs crossing over one another beneath the table. he watched you shift, his teeth catching his bottom lip to retain his smile. 

the waiter came to take your orders. you ordered your preferred choice and drink, lando following suit. when the table received their drinks, you lifted your glasses for a collective ‘cheers’. 

when the main course was finished, you were handed the dessert menus. short a couple, you had to share with the man next to you. you nudged lando’s shoulder with your own and like a dog to a whistle, he was over your shoulder once more, his stubble barely pinching your skin. the thought burst through your head: what would it feel like on your neck? on your thighs, your cunt? you blushed again for what felt like an infinitesimal number, but turned your attention back to the menu. 

you pointed at the option that you thought was best. lando hummed, his eyes tracing over the features of your face. you glanced at him. “what?” you asked. 

he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice. 

it arrived sooner than later and the two of you split the sweet dessert. your brother was still lost in his own conversations, leaving you to your ministrations with lando. whatever they may be, you’d want them all. 

when you had your fill and so did he, you couldn’t help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow. 

“you’ve got–” you pointed to his lip, but you figured your words were fruitless. you licked at your thumb and raised it to his mouth, cleaning him. his eyes darkened, becoming hooded with the shadows of lust. you even dared to bring your thumb back to your mouth, popping the remnants across your lips with a ‘pop’. lando never thought his dick could be so hard. 

“there,” you breathed. “all clean.” 

there was a brief silence. one second. two. “you’ve always been trouble, haven’t you?” 

your own eyes were hooded. “maybe.” you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. “guess you have to find out?” 

lando’s hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair. 

“guess so.”

the drive back was tense. tense with your excitement. on the way out, lando and you lingered at the back of the pack. his hand was on your lower back, warm and electric, reminding you that you had stepped into the deep end with him. 

you still couldn’t believe what had happened. 

lando was speeding down the freeway, weaving his way in and out of cars, a dangerous task that you only felt comfortable with him performing. you’d lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasn’t he? 

you were even so bold to roll the window down and stick your hand out, feeling the harsh slipstreams beneath your nailbeds. you relaxed in the seat, head lolling against the cushion, hair flying into the wind. lando turned his head to look at you, his elbow leaning on the interior beneath the windowsill, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. you were a picturesque beauty, lounging freely in his passenger seat, legs crossed, free. 

you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way he’d wish to see you. but he could think of other things. 

he pulled into the house with ease. it was well lit amongst the long, windy driveway, and he made sure to let you out first. you two were the last to arrive at the house this time, taking your sweet time. you were in no rush to race back to your room, and neither was he. 

it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.

“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked. 

“bright and early.” you confirmed. he pulled you in for a swift hug, rustling the top of your head with that familial brother love that you adored him for. 

he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didn’t understand what was happening between the two of them, bro code, but lando seemed to understand well enough. max and his buddies traipsed up the steps, and you felt at ease when you heard their doors shut. 

it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer. 

you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from. 

he did. 

there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back. 

lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty. 

“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”

that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.” 

you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.” 

the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind. 

“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment. 

“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?” 

you were shameless when you nodded your head. 

“so embarrassing, i know–” 

“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips. 

“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest. 

“what do you feel for me now?” 

you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down. 

there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be. 

he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 

you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his. 

he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins. 

lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips. 

“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.

you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“some dreams just remain dreams.” 

he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall. 

“do you want to dream forever?” 

no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted. 

you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same? 

his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes. 

“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.” 

he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own. 

you were cautious with your touches. your hands were on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. but your kiss was deep by his own volition, gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb, earning a groveling sound in your throat. 

his other hand was stroking your back, pushing you against him until your breasts were firmly against his chest. you gasped at the firm contact, him using it as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth. he explored every corner with an expertise you didn’t know was possible. no place went untouched by his saliva, marking a cavern of his own, and perhaps awakening a fantasy that had been dormant for years. 

he lied when he said he didn’t notice you. 

he lied. 

lando would always await your appearance when he went over to max’s house. he’d hear you skip down the steps in whatever mary-jane heel you wore for that day. max would groan when your head popped through the archway, waving at his friends, but your lashes fluttered when you settled on lando. 

‘course he fucking noticed. 

he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. he’d remember the skirts you wore–  black ones, pleated ones, plaid ones– they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

and he still did. while you were perched atop of his lap, huffing in nervous breaths, your hands anxiously skirting across the plane of his dress shirt. you shook atop of him as your lips moved coincided with one another. two bodies, melding together beneath the moonlight. 

your tongue swirled against his own, hips bucking against the bulge in his pants. your cunt tightened aimlessly, drenching his pants below. he could feel the patten of fabric become lathered in your slick, and it brought him back to earth.

“we can’t.” he breathed against your lips. his chest was beating up and down, unable to calm himself. though he attempted rejecting you, his hand tightened around the fabric of your dress. 

your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. “a bit late, isn’t it?” your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own. 

“your brother,” he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress. 

“he doesn’t…” you began to say, kissing the sides of his stubble. you were even so bold to take his free hand, guide it to your inner thighs, and let his fingertips caress the wet fabric covering your cunt. it was swollen, desperate for his touch. you’d been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. “have to know.” 

lando’s fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didn’t even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. “fuck, baby…” he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. “you always get this wet?” 

your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. “jus’ for you…” the words came quietly, but they rang loud in lando’s ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs. 

“yeah?” he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clit—back and forth— and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. “look at you, then, made a mess all over me…” 

your lips sucked on the skin of his neck, biting at his chest. attempting to shift closer to him, if it was possible, had your cunt aligned over his clothed cock. 

“‘n i’ve barely touched you.” 

lando wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friend’s little sister. the amount of lines he’s crossed. the friendship he’s had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he can’t say he hasn’t thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice. 

“touch me,” you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. “more, i need…” your hips grinded against his palm. “more.” 

“fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. fuck his self control. fuck whatever this was going to do to his friendship. you are real, pining for him in his lap, begging you for his touch. anything from him, really, you would take. this moment felt like it was going to flutter away any moment, and you’d be waking up from a sick, yearning dream. 

the hand upon your back steadied you against his body, whilst the fingers of his other moved the fabric of your panties aside. here, with his sensitive fingers, he could feel the heat from your cunt. it washed over him like a wave, retracting, tightening when he flexed his middle finger. you were utterly drenched for him, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps along your skin. 

you shivered above him, watching how his hand worked beneath your dress. his hand against your back curled around the base of your neck, angling your eyes back up to his own. “eyes on me.” you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. “be patient.” 

you seemed to understand well enough. he would give you what you wanted, in time. you would be patient, holding back the whimpers deep within your throat. you were just about to implode on yourself when he finally inserted his middle finger into your folds, taunting you dangerously. you gasped, unable to keep yourself still as your back arched. your head fell back into his hand, lando’s thumb swirling around your bare neck. 

the straps from your dress fell loose with the motion and you could feel the breeze harden your already taut nipples. his eyes clinged downward at the sight before him, head bending forward to kiss your exposed chest. one of your hands came to clench around his wrist, the other to his neck, holding him fiercely to your body. 

your fingers were thrusted deep into the base of his neck, the fade of his hair. you tugged when his finger curled deliciously inside of you, his thumb– acting so expertly– applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body. 

the british driver’s lips were relentless on your skin. your chest was claimed by his tongue, swirling around the top of your breasts, edging you further to a spectacular orgasm. he sucked tight against your skin, but your head raised to meet your lips to his ears.

“no marks,” you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexed– his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neck– the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice. 

“a secret, yeah?” he confirmed, holding back his groveling tone. the words were bitter when they hit your ears. there was a layered amount of surplus emotions that guarded his heart, held him at arm's length, and he knew it would tear him apart. but now, he focused on you atop of him, and getting you to come. 

“mhmm…” you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too much– the way that he swirled his thumb, how his finger was just the perfect length to bottom out inside of you. your hips moved relentlessly, despite his grip around your neck, and you pushed down on his wrist when it started to become too much for you. 

but lando had other plans. he shook his head, let out a tsk between his lips, and let his ring finger slip into you with ease. you let out another moan, deeper than the rest, but he responded with a tug on your hair. 

with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. “quiet.” you hummed a disapproving sound. “want me to stop?” 

you shook your head. “no– no!” 

you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping. 

“gotta be quiet, love–” and then his lips were back on you, sucking amply at your skin. his head lowered until he captured a nipple between his teeth, letting the ridges toy with your sensitive buds. your head lowered to the top of his as you breathed him in– his shampoo, his cologne– and it didn’t help with containing yourself. 

his pace against your cunt quickened. dual fingers sliding in and out of you with ease, thumb riding aggressively on your clit. you could feel the coil inside of you wringing with heat. 

lando’s lips found your other nipple, treating it with the same voraciousness that the other received. it was beginning to become too much for you. no man had ever had you this way– putty, liquid, melting– beneath his touch. you feared that you’d never be able to have an orgasm again. 

you became antsy in his hands. your grip on his wrist was shaking, your thighs desperately clenching around his waist. he took it as a sign that you were close, and the words fell easily from his lips. 

“gonna cum for me?” his chin rested on your chest, angling to look up at your sweating, flushed expression. your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded. his grip around your throat tightened against the columns. you’d never trusted a man so much to not hurt you. 

“come on, sweet girl, ‘ve got you.” he promised to you, “bet you’re so pretty when you cum.” 

you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. you’d been so focused on keeping quiet, that you went ahead at your own expense. lando saw the way your eyes opened, and lurched to meet your lips with his own.

the iron upon his tongue didn’t frighten him. perhaps it turned him on in some manner. the lengths that you were willing to go to keep your sweet lips tightened. but as his own tongue swirled around the stinging cut of your lip, you moaned into him. he absorbed the sound, locking it into the expanse of his memories. you had such a sweet voice. he’d never hear something like it again. 

“come on, baby,” he urged you once more, speaking into your mouth. his breath was hot, spinning a knot of thread with your own. you felt him laugh at your oncoming orgasm, taking joy from eliciting such pleasure from you. “let me see how pretty you are.” 

it didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach you. you went taut, shaking in his hands, eyes rolling into your head. you swore you saw stars, and that was just from his fingers alone. it had you wondering what his cock felt like. 

your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didn’t want to let him go. his fingers laid idle inside of your tightened walls, not wanting to release the feeling either. not with his hand drenched, his pants soaked, and his forehead dripping with his own sweat. his cock had been painfully hard, a pool of his precum seeping through his pants, combining with your own. it was a beautiful, disastrous mess that he’d initiated between you two, but he felt no regret. 

you sniffled against his shoulder, breezing with the cold air, and let your arms wrap around his neck. you hid your face against his body, attempting to bury your embarrassment within him. you had just come on the balcony atop lando’s lap. what fucking world were you living in? you’ve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didn’t even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand. 

lando couldn’t believe it either. you were tucked against his body like a hand to a glove, a perfect fit, breathing heavily, shaking, against his palms. your cunt roared with a beating heat, swimming with the orgasm he had given you. proud wasn’t a word that could surmount to this feeling. 

and he said nothing when he fixed the straps of your dress, gauging a more presentable you. he tucked your hair behind your ears, fingertips loitering on the expanse of your cheek. you smiled into him, coming to raise your head to meet his eyes. 

his eyes fell to your blistering lip. the swollen buds that he sucked the blood out of. his forehead met yours, and neither of you said anything; just a soft breath and heartbeat between the two of you. 

within seconds he took his hand from your cunt, washed his fingers against his tongue, and let it fall to your bare back. you were stunned at the motion, but drool pooled in your mouth. you gawked, openly, just how hot the action was alone. 

lando stood with you in his arms. one hand on the back of your neck, the other cupping your thigh. your legs, whilst trembling, tightened around his waist for support as he took you through the quiet villa. the only lights were the candles that were still burning, but you didn’t see them, your head hiding in the crevice of his neck. he hummed quietly, a rhythm that had your eyes beginning to lull with sleep. 

you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. you’d left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didn��t help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friend’s little sister. 

lando bent down to lay you into your bed. you fell against your will, hands still upright for him to fall in. but he just couldn’t let himself. 

he did, however, let his fingers trail across your bare thighs, your knees, your calves, ankles, until he was met with your heels. his hand lingered on the back of your ankle, angling one of your feet upright to slip a shoe off. his fingers moved to the other, placing the expensive pair on the ground. you stretched your hands above your head, falling deep within the pillowy, feathery embrace. 

you stared up at him. your hair messy, dress disheveled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. and he looked down at you, moving forward to let his fingers trail up your sternum, the perks of your breasts. the moment was so quiet. only your breaths and his own could be heard– and maybe the pounding of your heart. 

he looked beautiful looming above you, hovering with a protective, apologetic look. apologetic? what did he have to apologize for? except for a mind-blowing orgasm, that is. 

his hand froze against the place of your heart. palm flattening, he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. you grabbed his wrist, thumb sliding up and down against his veins. he swallowed. 

“don’t know if we should do this again.” he spoke quietly. 

your heart broke. you sat up straight in your bed, confusion written all across your features. you thought that this was something between the two of you. that he wanted you. and now what was happening? did you do something wrong? 

“why?” you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldn’t help it. the girl inside of you had come to the forefront, her dreams of being with lando being squashed beneath the weight of his words. 

he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.

“you don’t want me?” 

his head snapped in your direction, almost breaking clean off his spine with just how fast he went. he shook his head, hand coming to cup your cheek, but you shook his affections away. your hand dropped from his wrist, wanting to feel nothing of his heart. 

he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. “hey.” you focused on his voice. “you know that’s not true.” 

your brows furrowed. “do i?”

his expression dropped. 

he fell to his knees before the side of the bed. an action no man has ever done for you. you gaped visibly, watching as both his hands came to rest upon your knees. he leaned into you. stubble tickling your thighs. 

your name was sweet on his tongue. 

“what would your brother say–?” 

“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down. 

lando’s head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck. 

“we need t’give it time.” he said upon raising his head. he looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. the moonlight shimmered through your windows, casting a vague gracefulness of illumination across his tanned skin. 

“how much?” 

lando wasn’t sure. his silence was an answer enough. you sighed, letting your body fall against the bed once more. he lifted himself to sit beside you, placing both hands at your hips to cage you in. 

“hey,” he said to gauge your attention back to him. “we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you wanted to believe him. but you weren’t sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress. 

“you still want me?” you asked, voice cracking with your emotions. 

“i’ve wanted you,” he said against your stomach, “since the day you came down in that white skirt.” 

you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met him– third, maybe– you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace. 

“the one with the bows?” 

“that fuckin’ skirt…” he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldn’t believe his confession, finding it unbelievable. unbelievable that maybe, maybe you had a chance with him. the girl inside of you was squealing, but the woman didn’t quiver beneath him. 

there was a momentary silence between the two of you. but you shifted, moving to stand. lando watched you from his perch on your bed, hair ruffled and eyes red from his own wrought of emotions. you didn’t expect this from him. this sensibility. 

you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently. 

you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. “keep them.” you spoke. “you ruined them.” 

that had him laughing. but he kept them, staring down at the lace material. you threw on a large shirt from your suitcase that reached your mid thigh. you finally spun around to meet his eye, but he didn’t dare move. 

“what?” you asked, his staring becoming more intense. 

he swallowed. shook his head.

“you better go.” you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. “lando.” you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck. 

he lingered before opening your door, glancing at the dress on the ground. and then he was gone, shutting your door behind him, before falling to his own bed. you were lucky to find sleep that night, and it came easy with your exhaustion. but anxiety thrummed through your mind, bustling with a pint of rejection. it was so sweet from his tongue, but it hurt all the same. 

lando laid in his bed before he showered. changed. laid in his bed with the thought of you. how did this happen? how could he forfeit a lifelong friendship? it was simple, really. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever met, and he couldn’t ever let you go. he’s always watched you from a distance. liking your posts, viewing your instagram stories. he was obsessed with you in more ways than one, but that was a secret for him and him alone. 

yet, he couldn’t get max out of his mind. how he would react to him? to you? fuck, the thoughts were brewing a storm inside of his head. the damage had already been done, his heart already thrumming with the essence of you in its wake. you spread through the blood in his veins, latching onto his vitality like a parasite. though he welcomed the thought, the wonder of you overtaking his life. 

that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning. 

the morning came and went. you were up early, as you promised max, but took time planning your wardrobe. you wore a bathing suit beneath your choice of clothing, but what was essential was the short, white, skirt that rode mid-rise on your waist. 

the shirt you wore was thin, sheer, a light beige. it had straps that came down to tie a bow between your breasts, and cropped enough to leave heaven to the imagination. for one man in particular, that was your goal.

‘i don’t know if we should do this again.’ 

fuck that. 

you skipped down the steps and were met with max awake bright and early. he had been cooking breakfast, a favorite of yours, and was just about finishing up before he glanced towards you. 

“morning!” came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim. 

“good morning.” you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately. 

“woah,” max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. “relax. thought we were going swimming?” 

you coughed. “we are.” you continued to finish your food with haste. “just hungry.” 

you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didn’t turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.

“mate,” max said, eyeing up lando. “you look like shit. did ‘ya sleep last night?” 

lando hummed with his tired voice, already prepared to go swimming as well. he wore a black shirt with papaya swim trunks. you ogled at him before he looked at you, turning away quickly once he skirted his eyes towards your direction. 

“slept great.” 

you scoffed. 

max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks. 

“you snore,” you commented, still refusing to look at him. “you know that?” 

max turned towards lando. “your rooms are next to each other?” the words were poignant, aimed as a remark to the british driver. he simply shrugged his shoulders in response, not finding any reason to engage. 

you stood with your plate in hand, making headway for the sink. from behind, you could feel a pair of eyes heating the plane of your back. you weren’t stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning. 

the skirt you wore was a reminiscence of his confession the previous night. it brought back the childlike memories of grade school. a time when life was simpler, and you were just a girl, and he was just a boy. but he knew you weren’t that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didn’t understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that. 

when you turned on the water for the sink, lando approached you. max had been tending to his phone, scrolling through social media, so he hadn’t been paying attention. lando’s shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something. 

“you–”

“max,” you interrupted lando, turning off the water and turning towards your brother. lando took a side step away from you, giving you space when max looked up from his phone. you received a side eye from the british driver, his lip curling with pettiness. he saw what you were doing now. was this your form of punishment? 

max responded with a ‘hm?’ “you want me to cook tonight?” you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw max’s expression tense. 

“why not. could save us some money, won’t it?” he said, waiting for lando to add on. “right, lando?” 

lando spun around, releasing his tight grip on the counter. he took a sharp breath in, nodding his head in agreement. you watched as a blush creeped onto his face. you bit on the inside of your cheek, but weren’t expecting lando to retaliate. 

he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. “what happened to your lip?” 

you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste. 

max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. “shit. he’s right. what happened?” 

you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. “uh–” lando held back his devious smile. “bit it in my sleep, ‘spose.” 

max simply shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the backyard where the pool was. when the door shut, you let out a sigh. lando stepped in front of you, caging you in with his arms. his head dipped to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your cheek. 

“get off me,” you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving. 

“don’t play this with me,” he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant. 

“said we weren’t going to do this again, didn’t you?” you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. “we’re not. and if we were–” you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didn’t go far. “i’d fucking win.” 

he invaded your space again, leaning his lips towards yours. you felt his breath again, his scent creeping into your nose. it was like he never left. 

“y’sure ‘bout that?” he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat. 

but you stood your ground. “positive.” 

lando lingered for a second longer, leaning closer to your lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you out in the open kitchen. “whatever you say.” were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold. 

he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plans–sticking by max’s side would surely drive him insane. 

so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phone– it didn’t matter. it wasn’t long before the rest of your brother’s friends joined everyone by the pool. 

most of them were in the pool by the afternoon. you had made your way to the kitchen, shedding of your skirt and top. left in your swimwear, you wanted a snack. 

in the bowls of fruit you found, you pulled some mango, strawberries, and bananas. you cut them with a knife from the drawer, and put them in a bowl. there was more than enough fruit for everyone, but you took some of your favorites in the meantime. 

the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didn’t want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one. 

it was a papaya hat. with mclaren’s logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head. 

it fit nicely and you grabbed the bowl of fruit. you made your way back outside to the patio and your brother noticed you immediately. he called your name, and you sauntered over. 

lando and his mates had been in the pool playing with a frisbee, but as soon as max had said your name, he was looking over his shoulder. he went speechless. 

with his hat atop your head and your exposed body, he could help but drool at the sight of you. a droplet trailed down his chin, but he dunked the lower half of his mouth into the pool before anyone saw. 

“for us?” max asked towards the bowl of fruit. you popped a slice of mango into your mouth, biting tenderly into the piece before nodding your head. lando swallowed tightly, practically shaking beneath the surface of the water. 

you placed the bowl on the wooden table and stood back as you were met with the onslaught of a crowd of wet dudes. you backed up towards the stairs of the pool, ready to hop in yourself. you thought yourself a genius– having the entire pool to yourself while they ate. but before you stepped in, your elbow was caught in a warm palm.

lando faced you with his bare chest dripping with chlorine, hair ruffled and damp. droplets of water slithered down his cheeks, which you felt tempted to rub away with your thumb, but you retained from stretching out your hands. 

he simply stared at you. and you stared at him. 

then he flicked the end of the cap with his pointer finger and smirked, raising his brows with a teasing fashion. he had the nerve to glance at your chin, narrowing his eyes. you didn’t have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin. 

the action was fast, unnoticed by anyone around you. you blushed instantly, freezing in place. lando popped his thumb into his mouth, tongue visibly swirling around the fingertip. he made a humming sound, approving of the taste. 

“tastes sweet.” he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. “not my favorite, though.” 

holy shit

you thought you were going to pass out. 

with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool. 

you needed to cool off. desperately. and your time in the pool did. when you finally climbed out, max was lounging in the pool chair beneath an umbrella. you joined him in your seat, drying yourself off with your towel. lando was watching the entire time, sitting opposite to max. 

when you finally laid down with the towel of your bare legs, max scoffed at his phone. clearly, he was trying to get your attention. 

“what?” you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap. 

“look,” max handed you his phone, and you immediately rolled your eyes. it was a picture on instagram of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. his new girlfriend that he cheated on you with. he was a fucking asshole, and max knew that from the very beginning. 

“ugh,” you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling. 

“what?” lando asked, curious now to see what the two of you were grumbling about. max handed him his phone, but he was still confused who he was looking at. 

“her ex,” max commented with a rumble. lando’s eyes shot up at you, watching your expression shift. lando was now investigating thoroughly, scrolling through this guys posts. he still had some of you up, and it only angered him. it angered him to an unfair degree, feeling the pinnacle of jealousy, although entirely unwarranted. 

“i brought him to a race once,” you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. “barcelona, last year.” your arms crossed over your chest. 

lando raised a brow. “he was that leach for leclerc, wasn’t he?” you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasn’t a good memory. he had abandoned you the minute you arrived at the race in search of the ferrari driver, and had to manage yourself alone in the crowds. it was miserable, but at least you got to see a good show. 

“yeah,” you commented with a huff. “fucking asshole.” 

“asshole.” max mirrored you. 

“why did it end, then?” lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didn’t seem to notice or mind. 

though you did. 

you didn’t want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through. 

“because i was stupid.” is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word. 

max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. “the fuck did you ask for?” came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.

“shit, sorry i–” lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. “i’ll fix it,” he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could. 

lando called your name from deep inside the villa but you were already half way up the steps. you froze when you heard his voice, stifling back any sounds from your chest. he caught up to you, standing a step beneath you. 

“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”

“just what, lando?” you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. “you wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?” 

lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didn’t. “i was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didn’t believe it. how smart of me, right?!” your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall. 

you couldn’t help but spew emotional nonsense. “oh woe is me, truly, you’d probably end up doing the same–”

lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. “what did you say?” 

you gulped, not meaning for the words to slip off your tongue. shit. he looked pissed. pissed that you would think so lowly of him. 

“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”

his hand tightened around your chin. “really? that what you think of me?” no, no, no! you didn’t. you didn’t. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions. 

“if you were my girl,” lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. “you’d know it.” 

but you dared to disagree. 

“what am i then?” you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. “what was i yesterday, a whore?” 

he bared his teeth at you, displeased with what you called yourself. his hand from your chin latched onto the side columns of your throat and your mouth parted with a delectable pleasure. 

“you needed me, yeah?” he was sure to comment. but you didn’t budge. 

“get your hands off me.” you bit out. 

“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.” 

“clearly you didn’t do a good job for a second run,” the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist. 

“weren’t you begging for me? or did i make that up?” you seethed at his cocky tone. 

“think you had too much to drink. i’d never beg.” it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength. 

“‘touch me, please,’” he mocked in your tone. 

“must’ve dreamed it. thinking ‘bout me, lan?” the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock. 

“‘more, need–” you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“fuck you.” you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go. 

“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.” 

you brushed past him with a scoff and he stood there idly, watching your hips sway side to side. he chuckled at your retreat and you flipped him off before entering your room and slamming the door. you were done with these fucking games, his toying words. he had no right to approach you after finding out about your ex. 

you immediately turned on the shower in your room and stripped of your bathing attire. it was when you were searching aimlessly through your drawer of panties, you remembered that you were missing a pair. 

a smirk grew on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel that you held the power. 

a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious. you were missing from the entirety of the activities around the pool, and he even dared knock on your door, but he resisted. though it tore him apart, thinking about your writhing anger. 

but you, you had other plans. you’d showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner. 

you had come up with the idea for dinner. 

fish. as everyone enjoyed. 

you smirked to yourself as you made your way down the steps. it was quiet, and you heard no churning of others about the halls. it was nice to revere yourself in the solitude of the late afternoon, hoping that you would have the entirety of the downstairs floor yourself. 

you got to work with your scheme and pulled out the fish from the fridge. whatever you were making, you were sure it would be delicious. 

and when the meal was just about done, you heard a strangulated sound of ample footsteps down the staircase. you were just about done setting the dinner table when max soared through the kitchen, aiming right for the pans and pots of ingredients you sniffed.

“woo!” he cheered, clearly delighted with your cooking. the other boys at his side were quick to mimic him, agreeing with his statement. your hands clamped over your heart, showing how happy you were that they were thrilled.

“well,” you urged. “go sit! i’ll bring it over.” 

they didn’t hesitate. beginning to take spoonfuls of rice, vegetables, and the fried fish you whipped up, they were eager to get a headstart. your thoughts wondered where the british driver was, but your thoughts were answered when you heard the last pair of footsteps through the grand foyer. 

you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they weren’t polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didn’t mind. 

it was an afterthought  for what his meal would be. of course you knew he despised fish. you listened to everything he said when you were younger, years ago, and never forgot. 

you leaned against the kitchen aisle, facing him, and he immediately recoiled at the smell. his nose turned upright, curling upward with his lip, and you saw the sparkle of his canines. 

lando approached you, the stove, and took a glance at what the helpings were. he turned his head over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look, which you returned with a small shrug and a smirk.

“witch.” he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for. 

“don’t worry.” you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. “plenty for you, don’t you think?” 

you cocked your head toward the empty seat, but he instead took the one right next to you. the bowl in your hands was pungent with sprouts, and even you recoiled. you placed it down in front of him, letting your hand linger on his back. “i’m no dietician,” you said quietly. “but i tried to substitute as much as i could.” 

“thank you,” he said through clenched teeth, fucker. 

you were quaint with your serving, taking enough for your fill, and sat down swiftly. conversation grew between all of the men, your brother included, and you ate in silence. you had done more thinking about your situation with your ex, and recoiled with a sickening feeling in your stomach. lando watched from the corner of his eye, noticing how little you touched your fork with your lips and spun your spoon amongst the rice. 

he knew he said tribulating words. taunted you. teased you. but he did not mean for it to stretch as far as it had. you were twiddling with the accessories on your wrists, barely saying a word the entire meal, and he felt that it was his fault. you’d only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove. 

it wasn’t shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food was…divine. he wasn’t all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days. 

but the most courageous ideas filled his head. he kept looking at you, staring, out of the corner of his eye. you were entirely blue with your melancholy, and he resented the soured expression upon your beautiful face. he took it as his own responsibility to relieve you of your worries. your anxieties. insecurities. as it was his fault that they emerged. 

it didn’t take long before beneath the table, lando’s hand wandered. he began with a soft graze of your knee which had you sitting up straight, white skirt you dressed in before remaking its appearance around your hips. 

you turned your head to face him, eyes flaring with wonder of just what the fuck he was doing. but his expression stayed nonchalant, undeterred from his conversation with your brother. you decided that you should play the same game, sliding into the roll of uncaring of his soft touches.

though it was much easier said than done. 

his fingers were daunting. restless. he took a break to sip his water with his opposite hand, divulging into deeper conversation as his hand trailed higher. it was then that he spread his palm wide over the span of your thigh, bare, pinching at the skin. you leaned over the table, leaning your head into your palms that were supported by your elbows upon the table. 

you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking about– football, instagram, the races– but you couldn’t tune in for long. not when he tugged the fabric of your skirt to the side, and let his pinky dance across your folds. fuck. 

attempting to muffle your struggle, you brought your glass to your lips, sipping in promptitude. you leaned back, tucking your chair as far as you could against the table. it finally caught lando’s attention, briefly, when he gave you a once over with a cheeky smile. max caught the action, raising a brow at you, but you simply swallowed down your drink and crossed your hands over your lap. 

your lap, that so happened to house lando’s hand between your thighs. your cunt was clothed by your panties, but you could still feel the pressure of his finger lodging against your slit. 

you wrapped your hand around his wrist, gripping tight with the desire for him to stop, but he would do no such thing. he went as far as using his ring finger to stroke the cotton of your underwear, grazing over your clit as if it were nothing. he circled around your tender bundle of nerves, refusing to leave it alone. 

your second hand came to wrap around his wrist, higher up on his forearm, pleading indefinitely to halt his movements. your thighs clenched impossibly tight around his hand, suffocating him, but it didn’t stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuit– to get you to come at this dinner table. 

with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didn’t care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldn’t. not here. 

you found yourself trembling. your grip around his wrist softened, lip caught between your top set of teeth. you were lucky that the tablecloth was acting as a barrier between any wandering eyes–though, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind. 

but right now, you felt yourself coming to a clearing. a light at the end of the tunnel in the name of your orgasm. shit. 

it took only one quick glance around the room to see that everyone was done with their meals. with empty plates, they were awaiting more. and more you shall give, best to get up rather than submit to lando’s toilsome teasing. you couldn’t give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings. 

you finally shoved his hand away. it took all the might you had, and it even had his head shifting in your direction. you stood, and he immediately tugged the hem of your skirt down beneath the table cloth. if anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word. 

“dessert, anyone?” 

there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of lando’s hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didn’t wane until you were alone in the kitchen. 

it was ice cream that was for dessert, and that would be enough. you put out some toppings for them to choose from, and returned with the platter. you set it toward the center of the table, and the pickings were gone instantly. everyone had their own serving, side bowl, ready to go. 

but lando waited for you to settle back in before he grabbed a pint of vanilla. he nudged the ice cream scooper towards your direction, a silent indication that had him asking if he could serve yours. you simply nodded, even though your cunt burned with the phantom touch of his fingers. he did that to you in no way another man could. leave you wanting more. sex with your ex boyfriend had been a joke. you never came. ever. you only did when it was at your own hand, your own touch. but with lando…

lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesn’t think he’s ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. he’s fucked girls before, too many for max’s taste–hence his displeasure– but they weren’t like you. they didn’t squirm, whimper, in his hold. they’d moan like they were being televised, recorded, ready to be on a screen play.

you were natural. beautiful. incapable of being anyone but yourself. he admired you for such bravery, commending you silently through the cosmic planes. though you could not hear the words from him, you felt a warmth coming from his direction despite the cold treat being scooped into the dish in front of you. 

he gave you more than enough and smiled. a real one, you caught. it was a break from the humidity, a breeze that was most welcomed upon your skin. fuck. you were supposed to be mad at him, weren’t you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you? 

you were. 

when he settled beside you with his own serving, you were quick to shuffle a bit closer to him. the chair scooted across the floor, a vibration felt beneath his own, and he bristled. what were you up to? you appeared to be happier, a bit less caught up in your own head, and that he could be grateful for. you even engaged in a few conversations with max’s friends. 

they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours. 

lando was just about to respond to a question that max had asked him, but he coughed on his ice cream, the feeling of your fingertips darting across his crotch taking a huge galavanting surprise out of him. he didn’t know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.

but your skillfulness was not. 

the outline of his cock beneath his shorts was obvious. you felt the light curve, the tip, the base all beneath your palm. it was an empowering sensation, hidden beneath the table cloth, and lando had to outstretch both of his hands to steady himself. 

“y’alright, mate?” max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward. 

“yeah. fine. carry on?” max repeated his question for lando. before he was about to answer for a second time, your hand curled around the base of his cock, feeling full in your palm. your thumb brushed against his tip, smiling to yourself when you felt a light wet patch against your finger. 

he sucked in a tight breath, but answered max with a strained voice. he clenched his jaw tight and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. you knew you were riling him, and it was paying off to see him flustered. 

you continued your stroking motion discreetly beneath the table. the excitement of being caught was perhaps too thrilling, and the presence of your hand against his cock only excited you further. he was big. that was enough for you to be floored. your guesses as a edgy teenage girl were correct, and the woman inside of you purred at the idea of him inside of you. 

little did you know, he thought the same. when his fingers were lodged inside your hot folds, your deathly tight grip clamping around him, he knew that he had to have you. he knew it years ago, too, but just how pretty you were atop of him…how receptive you were to his touch– it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall. 

until it will fall, and he is deep inside of you. with the outline of his cock embedded in your lower belly he would feel satisfied, with his cum dripping from your cunt, he could find a peace from this torturous lust that overtook every fucking part of his mind. he needed you. carnally. in whatever fashion labeled him as a barbarian, he would hunt you down if that is what you wanted. 

and maybe you did. 

you wanted him to chase you. to fight for you. to appease the teenage girl inside of you that yearned for his affections, his oblivious attentions. you felt that you deserved it for all the work you put in through your teendom. the boys you rejected. the time you gave up to attend his races. 

was that such a bad thing to be wanted? to be wanted above all, by the man of your wonderlike dreams? but was he so dreamy, then, when he glanced at you with his needy, preening eyes when you held his cock so firm in your hand? 

the answer was undoubtedly yes. 

you felt the pulse of his cock against your hand. it was a delectable vibration that beat for you of all people. you felt more than divine prowess gripping his length, such a dirty, lewd, action beneath the table. and none of them knew what you had been doing. how you were affecting him. it was a secret wasn’t it? 

the catalyst for your movements was about to be thwarted when he readjusted his hips in the chair, bucking fiercely against your touch, your hold on his dick. 

conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldn’t. not here. fuck. he gripped on your hand beneath the table, shivering, shaking, as he pleaded you with his eyes. they were wide drawn, glossed with a desperation that you needed permanently in your life. it was a face you wouldn’t forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasn’t the right time. when would be the right time? 

“since you made dinner,” max began, letting out a grueling burp, “i say we lot ‘ought to tidy up, shall we?” the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was lando’s excuse to rip himself free of your devilish hand. though he wanted nothing more than to cum with your sleek fingertips, he had to be nonchalant about it all. 

he cleared his throat when he stood, feigning a quietness that felt unusual, but no one said a word. you smiled to yourself, pulling your hand away back to your lap. it was damp from his precum, sordid with an urge to pop a finger or two into your mouth. and you did. pretending to clean yourself from any residue of icecream, you licked your fingers clean. 

lando stared. unable to take his eyes off of you. he lingered with his hand around your bowl and plate, his breath hitching in his throat. devil woman, he thought. 

when the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the fragile ones laid out to dry, you finally stood. you arched your back, stretching your limbs, but felt cold on your cunt. it was the air conditioning that cooled you, reminding you that he was the one to tease you first beneath the table. 

your brother bid you goodnight with a kiss to your cheek, whilst the others thanked you sincerely for the meal. you were grateful to receive such gratitude, but it wasn’t from the man you wanted it the most. 

tucking your chair into the table, you made your way into the grand kitchen. with its tiled walls, marbled kitchen island, lando stood at the epicenter. with a towel in his hand, drying the last few of the dishes, he watched you saunter in. 

his tongue poked at the inner corner of his cheek with a clenched jaw. boy, did he have words for you. you and your actions. how you ruined him at the dinner table whilst talking to your brother of all people. it was like you wanted them to see–

ah

ah

when you joined him side by side, the pair of you said nothing for a moment. but the moment when lando scanned the room front to back, he dropped the towel and grabbed onto you.

he spun you around so your front pushed against the kitchen aisle, your back arching against the palm of his hand. his second went around the front of your throat, pulling your head up to his own. 

“that what you wanted?” he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. “hmm? tell me, baby.” 

you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises. 

then he bent you over the counter, the cool surface eliciting a gasp from deep within you. his hand flexed over your back, scaling your spine. 

“being a fucking tease…” 

“you started it.” you retaliated with a childlike immaturity. 

lando chuckled as his crotch came flush against your cunt. your wet, dampening cunt by the second. the hand that had been latched to your throat moved to your skirt, toying with the fabric. he scoffed, feeling the wetness of your panties. “bet you’re still wet anyways.”

you were.

your face flushed. 

“dirty fucking girl.” he said quietly, a comment to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. you swayed your hips against his, desperate for a flickering sensation of friction. 

“ah ah,” he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. “think you deserve it after tonight?”

you mewled in response, your cheek freezing against the countertop. the heat from your asscheek was enough to satisfy you for the moment, your thighs clenching together. he ogled, head twisting in a fashion that was revered with lust. 

with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. “hmm?” 

“no.” 

“no?” he’d repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didn’t fight back, but would take your submission with earnestness. but you had other plans brewing inside your head. ones that you knew would drive him up the fucking wall.

but that would come later. for now, you let your head fall backward onto his shoulder, and looked up at him. “let me fix it…”

your whimpering had his eye twitching, lip curling, arms flexing. it was a gut reaction to how soft your voice had become, how eager he knew you were. 

his hold on you loosened, and you took this as your opportunity to spin around and drop to your knees in front of him. you couldn’t help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth. 

but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?

“please…” you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldn’t reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly. 

a hand came to run through your hair atop your head. an nonverbal, encouraging pet. you hummed, making quick work of lowering his shorts, his briefs, and his cock sprung free with vitality. it was red hot, pulsating with blood, beating a bright scarlet for you. it glistened with his own slick for you. 

“go on, love,” he was breathless. “you can take it, can’t you?” 

you nodded furiously, a whine leaving your lips. with your determined fingers, you wrapped them around his base, pumping your hand back and forth. it didn’t take much before he was leaking over your palm, and you let your lips swirl around his tip.

his head fell back in pleasure, fingers tightening his grip in your hair. with his empty hand, he gripped the island to support his weight from toppling upon you. 

he was both sweet and salty, a sensation you’ve never tasted before. you continued your relentless pursuit on his tip until he was wrought with desperation, and let his hips buck forward until he was half way down your throat. 

you groaned in protest, your eyes watering with tears, but took him like the good girl you were. he wanted you, and you wanted him. you could ask for nothing more. 

“just like that, baby–” he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. “fuck,” he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan. 

“perfect,” he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. “you’re perfect.” 

it persuaded you further–not like much was needed– and sped up your pace. faster and faster you went, guzzling him perfectly. with your other hand that gripped his calf, calm to knead at his balls. that was the moment he faltered, unable to withstand your feverish tongue. he had to bite back his own groans of pleasure. 

“where?” he demanded of you. you paused, but didn’t take long for your answer. he was holding himself back as much he could, his hips bucking down the hot cavern of your throat, but you didn’t relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didn’t think twice.

before you knew it your mouth was loaded with his cum, hot rods of delectable nectar from him. you were pleased, more than satisfied, that you made him cum in just a matter of minutes. 

he pulled himself out of you, letting you breathe. you swallowed, not finding him distasteful, and even showed him your bare tongue. he was panting, attempting his best to catch his breath, but managed a coarse chuckle. 

you gave his flaccid cock a singular kiss before you rose to your feet, bringing his shorts and briefs up with you. he adjusted himself before launching his lips on your own. the remnants of him were prominent on your tastebuds as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. you allowed his strength, making a sound from your throat. 

“taste like me,” he commented against your lips. you beam. 

“must’ve been good, then?” you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him. 

he snickered. “guess so.” 

you slapped his chest before breaking your kiss. you glanced up at him one more time before placing a kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp. he held onto your hand, though, wondering just where you were going. not when he didn’t have you cumming on his tongue. 

“it’s past my bedtime,” you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. “what?”

“let me–” 

you shushed him. 

“on the house.” 

you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didn’t know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes. 

you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a loss— you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey material– and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad. 

in the bathroom of your suite, you twisted the shower on. whilst waiting for it to heat up, you turned your attention towards the open shaft windows that you could prop open. your room is next to mine, lando’s words rang through your head. okay, you thought, game on, right?

you made sure the windows were open at a respectable distance, praying that his own would be too. he liked the cool breeze from the night, pray tell from his times of sleeping in max’s room in your childhood home. 

glancing at yourself in the mirror once, you were betting on this to work. to truly grab his attention, whilst also awarding yourself a release you’d been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee. 

into the shower you went, tilting your head back and letting the waterfall drench your scalp. it was relaxing, more than you anticipated, and your mind was able to wander to other things. like his hands. his toned, muscular arms. his neck, built intensely with strength that you’ve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what it’d feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms. 

lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were open— the curtains swaying back and forth— and he heard your call. 

at first, the british driver thought that he was hallucinating. that he was hearing things from losing it. but there was no denying that it was your sweet siren serenading through the air, wafting against the mediterranean winds. 

a moan had been pulled from you by your own hand. your head flat against the tiles of the shower wall, you twisted until your cheek was firm against the siding. one hand came to rest on the base of your throat, gripping for comfort, while the other trailed downward to your navel, priming at your folds. 

you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night. 

it was enough, though, for you to rub against your clit the way you knew your body best. a delicious combination of whimpers and moans trembling through the air. 

lando was brought to his fantasies, unbelieving that they were coming alive before him. he leaned against the windows from his room, hand clenching tight around the ledge, and listened to your whining calls, urging him, tempting him, to knock down your fucking door and fuck you like you wanted him. 

a finger slid easily inside of you. with both stimulation to your clit and your sensitive nerves inside of you, it was heaven. the hot water combined with your punitive thoughts, tracing back to lando, aroused you to a degree unfathomable to any pleasure you’ve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is. 

lando couldn’t resist. his own cock was blistering with heat, again, in just the span of ten minutes. you had just been on his knees for him. now, here you were, a siren within the night, taking him under your bewitching. 

and spellcasted he was. 

with his dick in his hands, he was dripping. your sounds became louder, prominent, for his open window. and he absorbed every droplet you gave him, a man dehydrated of the world’s most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didn’t give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him alone— your saccharine temper. 

he could imagine you there, thinking about just how desperate he was. how you knew what you were doing to him. how he unfolded before your voice. 

you were. 

you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. you’d remember the sounds he made— whimpers of desperate, wicked nature— that had you curling your finger inside of you, even becoming so bold as to add a second. it should be criminal to think of your brother’s best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed. 

lando fisted his cock with the thought of you wrapped around him. hand draped across the ledge of the windowsill, he writhed and seethed from his own daring thoughts of you. your skirt, your pretty eyes, your wondrous nature. he was awed by you, but wanted to damn you to ruin with his touch. it pursued him further, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

surely he wouldn’t, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper. 

“lando,” you breathed, loud enough to surpass the stream of the water. and your stomach coiled, reaching an orgasm before you could count to three.

lando had, too, spurring loads of his come into his empty hand. it wasn’t an elegant movement— rather messy and untamed— but that’s how it was when it came to you, wasn’t it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though it’d be worthwhile. 

you went to bed that night with a sleep full of your wildest, fanatical dreams that included lando. whereas he tossed and turned, unable to believe that the girl he knew in his childhood had him wrought with lust. 

the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italy’s finest beaches, chartered there by a small boat. you had opted for one of your best bathing suits and cover up pieces, looking outright chic. 

when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to max’s side. the entire ride, lando had been stealing glances from you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. you had your answer from your plan the previous night. he heard you. 

good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right. 

you’d lay out your towel on the white sand. your brother joined you, laying down a few feet from you along with some of his buddies. lando kept his distance, knowing too fucking well that’d he’d pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother. 

some of the others opted for surfing. with their boards ready from the rental shack, they were catching waves with ease. you watched from your upright position, lathering yourself in spf. 

“what’dya think of chris?” your brother asked you. you turned your head, wondering what he was implying. chris was one of his good-natured, all classic, sweet boy friends. you’d known him for a good majority of your life, but never…really thought of him. 

“he’s a good guy.”  

lando was sitting up now. listening. 

“well,” max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. “asked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.” 

your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldn’t even manage a conversation with you. you weren’t even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter. 

“and…what did you say?” 

max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them. 

“think it’s fine. ‘e’s a good lad. nice. well-mannered.” he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? “besides…i wanna see you happy.” 

it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didn’t need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you. 

your eyes drifted to find lando’s. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. you’d use it. 

“maybe.” you brushed it off, but found chris in the waters. he was just coming out from the sea, and you thought this was your perfect opportunity. 

you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didn’t look back to know what lando’s expression was— worshiping. 

chris’ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers. 

“catch any good ones?” you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat. 

“some,” he gestured to the large waves. “current is strong today.” 

you edged further into the water until your knees were covered. 

“you looked good out there, at least i think so.” you managed a smile, not entirely opposed to his company. your brother had been right. he is a nice lad. you should at least build a friendship with him, shouldn’t you? 

��really?” he was shocked. “you were watching?” 

you nodded with a hum, and continued further out into the blue waters. chris took this as an invitation and dropped his board high up on the sand and followed you in. he wasn’t as built as lando was, but you shouldn’t even be making the comparisons. 

you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chris’ eyes caught on the fabric. typical. 

“what do you do for work, then? are you a student?” you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side. 

“business student in scotland,” he confirmed, but he wasn’t all cocky about it. you thought that he’d boast, but he didn’t. “yourself?” 

you told him your plans. he was impressed that you’d accomplished so much at your age. 

and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of lando’s envy over your shoulder. you’d taken a few glances over chris’ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs. 

he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or another— whatever it takes. 

arriving back to the villa that evening, your brother and his friends wanted to go out clubbing. it was around 8pm and the sun was beginning to set, though you didn’t feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired. 

“you’re sure you don’t wanna go?” max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.

“i’m sure. besides, i could use a night in.” your brother respected your choice and didn’t push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.

“lando’s here, too, in case you need anything.” 

and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile. 

shit. 

shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that you’d escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that you’d be staying in for the night. 

when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. you’d worn a floor length slip dress when you’d gotten home, but wanted to change and lock yourself in for the rest of the night. but your situation changed drastically when you reached the first step, and saw lando leaning against the staircase from the top. 

“just you and me, yeah?”

you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time. 

“what to do, what to do…” he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. “in this big, empty house…?” 

he trailed after you all the way until you were on the balcony. he slipped out from the sliding door, watching as you were frantically nervous in his presence. you had no idea what he was thinking, watching you all day flirt with chris. 

your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldn’t let him see that. wouldn’t show him the effect he had. 

lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didn’t look fucking good. 

he donned a cocky smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you, leaning into your space. you felt his breath on your cheek. 

“he’s a good lad, innhe?” 

you met his eye— his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didn’t believe him capable of. 

“he’s nice.” you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful. 

“‘he’s nice.’” lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa. 

“yes, he’s nice.” you bit back, brows furrowing. “more than i can say for you.”

lando’s expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone. 

“yeah? you don’t think i’m good to you?” 

whatever this was…you loved it. you craved him. needed him. there was a zing of electricity that ran down your spine, electrifying your cunt. your thighs tightened together and you shrugged, playing him off the best that you could. 

he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. “we’ll see.” 

and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too long— twenty four hours— without your touch. it was maddening the way he was obsessed with you. how you infested every corner of his mind. you, you, and more you. 

you succumbed to his kiss with ease, your tongues battling between one another. he tasted of espresso, whereas you tasted of the apple liquor from the boat. 

he won, ultimately, a hand coming to wrap around the back of your neck. your own latched to his shoulders, another going for his hair. you tugged on the strands, eliciting a groan from him that you wished to hear over and over, time and time again. you were sure that you would, not daring to ever let him go. you had him surrounded.

his tongue lathered over yours, dripping saliva down your chin. it was messy, intangibly so, but you’d have him no other way. you wanted him like this, uncontrolled, pining, for your affections. you had him in the place you wanted, and he had more in store for you. 

he broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting the pair of you. your eyes heavy with desire, his own mirroring the same. his kisses traveled to your jaw, your throat— but he sucked feverishly against the skin, surely to leave bruises. you gasped when you felt his teeth puncture through the top layer of your skin. “marks—” 

you reminded him, but he didn’t care.

“fuck what they think.” 

you melted where you stood. his hand came to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips to brush against his. he was already hard, you could feel it, but you were sure that you were dribbling too. 

his relentless pursuit of your neck didn’t end there. when he met the fabric of your dress, he pulled the straps down with ease, your breasts falling free. he ogled at your mounds, saliva dripping from his chin. it was, perhaps, the hottest sight you’ve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake como— but this, right here— lando norris drooling on your chest.

“what would you do with ‘nice’?” he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan. 

“he could treat me well,” you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum. 

“you’d eat him alive.” he chuckled, switching to your other nipple that was blistering with heat. your entire body radiated like the sun, but did no good beneath the moonlight. “what would he do—” a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. “with all of this?” 

you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness. 

“let it go to waste…” lando dropped to his knees with a hand still firm on your back, the other raising the hem of your dress. he tsked, cheek flattening out against your thighs. he separated them with the strength of his neck, looking up at you from the bundled fabric. “a shame.” 

you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him. 

with a singular finger he pulled down your panties. the cotton was thin, as if you knew this would happen. they slid down your legs and you kicked them away. 

your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. it’s how you told him you needed him, but that wouldn’t be enough. not for lando.

“what do you want?” he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed. 

“your mouth—” you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. “god, fuck—” 

“not god,” lando corrected. “just me, baby.” 

“lando, lando…!” you whined, back arching for a better angle for him to reach. he responded, humming against your clit, sending throttling vibrations up your navel. he was so fucking good. how? how could a man treat you in such a way? 

finding your writhing adorable, he finally let his tongue swipe past your entrance. the sensation was indescribable, but you knew that you needed more. and more he was willing to give, burying his face into your cunt. 

your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew you’d taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom. 

with his face buried inside of you, you were sure to see stars. here, beneath the moonlight of the italian villa, you were ethereal. he could steal glances up at you. your contorting face, toiling with passion. passion that he drank from the source, sucking you dry. 

his nose applied pressure to your clit— the perfect combination— and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. not with his jean paul scent invaded your senses, his thick hands cupping you so perfectly. one hand kneaded at the flesh of your thigh, the other swirling circles on your lower back. it was perfect. he’s perfect. 

“please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for. 

lando hummed, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue. he curled inside of you, teetering you upon your edge, and you were just about to let loose when he pulled his head away, leaving you trembling. 

he stood with ease, as if he wasn’t just devouring you, and you reached out for his hand. you were about to reach the peak of a mind blowing orgasm, but he denied you. with your hand wrapped around his, he knew how this would end. his lips came to your ear. 

“you were right,” he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. “don’t know if i’m nice.” 

he tugged you along through the house, hand upon your back steading your shaking stance. too impatient to help you up the steps, he swooped you into his arms bridal style. you gasped with a giggle, reflexive from his actions, and he burst open the door to his room with his shoulder. 

he dropped you onto his bed, ripping off his shirt in the process you propped yourself up on your elbows, gaping clearly at his tanned, toned skin. he smirked down at you, coming to hover above, and stripped the dress clean from your body. before him, you were bare, naked, more exposed than you've ever been with your brother’s best friend. 

you went to cover your chest, clamp your thighs shut, but lando refused. he trapped your wrists above your head, knee coming to separate your legs. you wiggled your hips hopelessly for friction, still wading heavy on your lost orgasm, but he didn’t let you graze his thigh. 

“you’re being mean,” you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didn’t prevail. 

lando’s lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed. 

“am i?” 

one hand left the hold on your wrists to touch your cunt. you were dripping down your thighs. he brought his fingers to his lips, wiping them clean. 

“think you like it, love.” 

you hissed when he took his hand from you, but relaxed when he kneaded one of your breasts. he was in utter reverence of your body, your beauty. you eclipsed all things that shined bright in his life, you becoming the epicenter. 

his pants were off in the next second, thrown to the corner of his room. his briefs, too, and his cock danced freely from its entrapment. your mouth watered. 

“this what you need?” his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. “yeah? think you can take it?” 

“yes, yes! i can, i can, please lando…” your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder. 

it didn’t take him much convincing to surge forward, agonizingly slow, until he has inside of you. you choked on your breath, the air ripped right from you lungs with how he stretched you. it was alike no pleasure you’ve felt— his fingers, his tongue, all works of mastery— but you feared that nothing could compare to this. not when his hand around your breasts drop to your cunt, rubbing voracious circles against your clit. 

he let you adjust, waiting until you shook your hips from side to side, and bottomed out. it was surreal how you ended up here. but you wouldn’t go back. not for a second. not when his dick inside of you ripped through you with such passion, such love, you were inclined to imagine. 

lando’s own breaths were wild. erratic. he had to halt himself from slamming inside of you, your tightening, wet walls gleaning him of any morals he had come into this villa with. 

“move,” you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. “need you to move.” 

need

such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad. 

he listened to you without hesitation. his hips slapping in and out of you with a heavy, dangerous pace, he never wanted this moment to end. it would feel like this every time he fucked you— the first, starstruck time— and that would be enough for him to lay to rest in an early grave.

both of you were a mess of moans, sounds of skin on skin echoing through his bedroom. the moonlight casted a white haze upon the pair of you, your eyes shimmering in the reflection. he was lost in it, in you, how seraphic you’d become in just the few days he’d been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table. 

his chest lowered to yours for a better, sweeter, angle and it had you screaming. your nails cut through his back, leaving reddened scratches against his tanned, freckled skin. he loved it. it had his pace quickening, and his hand working harder at your clit. you were close, he could feel it. 

feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. “so good,” you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him. 

“nothing compares,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “you’ll be mine then, yeah?” 

your heart surged in your chest, but your breathing remained the same. you were too fucked out to truly resonate the meaning behind his words. 

“yours, yours,” you repeated over and over until you were sent over the edge. you screamed his name, cutting through the air, cutting through him. he was left a sopping mess with his quivering hips, sloppy pace. you knew he was going to cum, too, when his teeth grinded together, and he let out a guttural moan. it churned your insides, swishing your heart through. 

he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didn’t want him to. 

the pair of you laid atop one another in his dark room. panting. catching your breaths. in unison your hearts would align. sweaty bodies melting against each other. 

his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end. 

“did you mean it?” you asked, voice hoarse. 

lando hummed. 

“about us.” 

you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. “i did.” your breath caught in your throat. “don’t give a shit what max’ll say. we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. he’d get over it in time, you’re sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didn’t spare you a second glance. no longer would you dream of this moment materializing before you. it had become a reality, and there was nothing more that you could be grateful for. 

he wanted you. lando wanted you. and you wanted him the same. it was one of the first times in your life that you felt safe. comforted in a newborn relationship. 

it wasn’t long before lando pulled the covers of his sheets over the two of you, holding you tight as you shifted into the shape of his body. you were a perfect fit, a missing puzzle piece that he’s been searching years for. 

and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms. 

lando had found sleep, too, his soft snores carrying through the room. you and him paid no attention to the fact you were sharing a bed. if anyone walked in, then they walked in. you were at peace, and that was enough.

sooner rather than later, the party-goers for the evening arrived home. they attempted their best to be quiet at such an odd hour, and decided to retire. max and chris went out to the balcony, however, and decided for a small chat. 

but before that could even commence, chris noticed a piece of black fabric loose on the patio. he stared at it from above, brows raised.

“mate,” he called max over. he met him at his side. 

“this yours?” he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.

“motherfucker.”

tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[ceesimz]

when we two parted

part two here!

This fic is based off the poem When We Two Parted (hence the name, and see a section of it above) as well as a song called Strange by Celeste. I think this fic is a result of the romcom movie marathon i did last week whilst recovering from concussion so make of that what you will. If it's wanted, I can do a part two!

A house party in Menorca was hardly a place to fall in love. Or so Alexia thought.

To some, the end of the season was a welcome break to completely switch off and relish in their life outside of football. For others, or rather, for just one, it wasn't a very enjoyable time, more of a nuisance really. But when Alexia had been invited by Mapi to go to Menorca, where the Zaragoza local had escaped to many times before and talked about it for hours on end everytime when she got back, Alexia couldn't say no this time. They'd be joined by a few of their other teammates, but Mapi had informed them that they would be welcomed by her many friends on the small island and invited to enough endeavours to keep them entertained.

That's how Alexia found herself waking up on the sofa of a beautiful Mediterranean house on the second morning of the vacation. The previous night, she'd partied with her teammates and Mapi's friends, having a few drinks here and there but never passing the line of tipsy. But, when the time came to leave, she had no money on her, a dead phone, she couldn't find Mapi or her teammates, and even if she could ask someone to get her back to the villa they were at, she didn't know the address either. Which is why she's waking up on a random couch on an island she doesn't know, now with a working phone thanks to the phone charger she found (and stole) in a drawer beside the sofa.

It was a little before 7am, way too early for any of the people who had drank the night before to be awake, and that's why she was drawn to the kitchen on her way towards the front door.

Coming from the room was quiet, calm music as well as a soft voice singing along. The voice belonged to a woman clearing the counters from the cups and bottles from the previous night, this young someone lost in her own world as she swayed to the melody ringing out. And when she turned a little so that her features were visible to Alexia, the midfielder couldn't help the smile that graced her face.

This unfamiliar woman was beautiful. It was clear to see and simple to say, she was ineffably gorgeous. Alexia didn't recognise her from the previous evening, as much as she tried to piece the night's events together, she couldn't recall meeting her. She stood there for a few silent moments, admiring the woman in front of her. Dressed in running gear, a tan to her skin and a peaceful smile on her face.

But when the woman in question cursed at the sight of Alexia, not expecting anyone to be lingering in the doorway, the Catalan couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

You were deathly embarrassed by the yelp you let out and the reaction you had to the seemingly harmless party-goer some feet away, caught red-handed in a day dream whilst cleaning the kitchen.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in.” You apologised with a grimace, yet the blonde just smiled.

“No, it is okay.” Alexia brushed it off.

The footballer didn’t quite know what to do. She felt drawn to the person across the room from her, but you were complete strangers to each other. The only thing she knew was that, from the few words spoken so far, you spoke English without an accent like she did.

“Um, per- perdóname? Mi español es muy pobre.” You stumbled through the limited Spanish you knew, and it was nothing but endearing to Alexia. “I mean, I can understand it if... if you speak slowly, but…”

“Hablaré más despacio por ti.” Alexia answered, surprising herself. “I can understand English, I am not good at talking.”

“Well, that's us sorted then.”

You internally cursed yourself for being so awkward in the moment, but honestly you weren’t expecting anyone to be up and about at this time, nevermind the most attractive woman on the island. You had no idea who she was, where she came from, or even what her name was, but the intrigue was there and it was burning wildly through you. 

She didn’t seem to mind your awkwardness, instead she met it with some of her own and stood rooted to the ground with the same smile that seemed to only grow bigger the longer this interaction carried on.

“Estas limpiando?” She wondered, stepping a little closer.

“I'm, uh... oh! Yes, I'm cleaning, thought I would get a head start with it.” You gestured loosely to the room before going back to clear the clutter off of the sides again.

“Puedo ayudarte a limpiar, si quieres?” Alexia asked without any second thought, not really sure why she was offering to clean a stranger's house at the crack of dawn. 

She was feeling exactly the same as you did. Confused, but weirdly interested. Alexia was in the same position as you, too; she didn’t know your name, who you were, all that she did know was that you were beautiful and, to her knowledge, frustratingly not from Spain.

“No, that's okay, you're a guest. You're free to go home.” You tried to wave her off, but she wasn’t stepping down so easily.

“No, insisto. Como puedo ayudar?”

Alexia stayed firm in her offer, and before she knew it, she was busying herself with any bit of cleaning she could see. Wiping down the counters, mopping the floors, taking out the trash, she even found herself washing the piles upon piles of dishes that had accumulated. Unbeknownst to the other, you both individually felt like you were caught up in some kind of hallucination, or a fever dream at least. You, stood with the biggest footballer of women’s football (not that you knew that yet), having her clean your friend’s house. Alexia, tidying up at sunrise for a woman she was fastly growing a crush on.

“You are English?” Alexia questioned as she washed her hands, looking over at where her cleaning partner was sorting through a pile of jackets that the party guests had thrown over a loveseat in the corner of the room.

“I am. English and very ashamed at how bad my Spanish is.” You laughed in spite of yourself, pulling a face as you lifted up a random, single high-heel from the never ending pile before dropping it to the ground with a grimace.

“Why?”

“Well, considering I live in Spain and have done for some months now, it should be better than it is. I just have a hard time keeping up with my online lessons.” Hm. She lives in Spain too. Alexia was nothing if not infinitely more intrigued by that new fact. “So, do you live in Menorca? It's a beautiful island.”

“No, Barcelona.”

“Oh, no way!” Alexia looked up at the quick burst of excitement from the person she still didn’t have a name for, chuckling when the woman in question blushed and cleared her throat before speaking. “I live in Barcelona too.”

Alexia's eyebrows shoot up at the new information she had just learnt, a shy smile on her face. She nodded once before turning back to the sink, goosebumps raised on her arms that, when paired with the eruption of butterflies that had just occurred, signified she was in trouble. Rather, her heart was in trouble.

“This house, es muy bonita. Yours?” She steered the conversation away, not wanting to dwell on the sensations flooding her body. She was still talking to a stranger after all.

“No, it's a friend's house, they let me stay for the week and said I could invite people over.”

“Mm. Bueno, gracias por la fiesta, fue divertido. I did not see you?”

“I wasn't at the party, no. My friend María told me she would keep an eye on everything.” Alexia shook her head as she turned to lean back against the counter, her eyes tracking your movements around the room.

“Mapi no está aquí.” She revealed, to which you froze on the spot and groaned.

“That little... ugh. I knew I couldn't trust her.” You complained, cursing under your breath as you threw a beer cap in one of the bins. “Do you know where she is?”

“No. She leaved early.” Alexia grimaced. “Nunca confíes en María cuando se trata de fiestas.”

“Well, I've learnt my lesson now.” You grumbled, Alexia laughing quietly. Quickly glancing around the room, you decided you were happy with its semi-replenished state and stopped to take a breath before turning to face Alexia. “You're friends with María then, I'm guessing? One of the girls she invited?”

“Sí, muy buenas amigas. Demasiado bueno, diría yo.” Alexia said, mumbling the last part in an exasperated tone. You hear it though, and despite it taking a few moments to translate it, you giggle at it.

“I know that feeling. I've known her a while and she still gets under my skin. Like when she abandons her care-taking job for a house that isn't even mine.” You responded, Alexia nodding and chuckling. “I’ll stand her up in the morning so that she can’t go on her beloved boat trip that’s under my name, we’ll see how she likes it.”

“You are on the boat tomorrow?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice that shouldn't have sparked as much excitement in you as it did.

“I am. That's if I don't get arrested for assault before I get there.” You huffed, the woman before you grinning again. “Shouldn't you be getting back to your villa now? I've kept you long enough.”

“Um. I do not know the, uh, dirección.”

“Oh, that's alright. I think I have it, I don’t have my phone on me at the moment but if you grab a pen and paper from beside you then I can write it down.”

“Ah, sí. Gracias.”

Alexia did as she was told and picked a pen from the stationary pot along with a small square of paper from a very organised corner of the kitchen counter. There was a sly grin on Alexia’s face as she handed both items over to you. With pink cheeks that can’t really be excused by the run you went on before you arrived, you jotted down the address of her Airbnb with slightly shaking hands before signing your name along with it too. Then, for reasons you’re not quite sure of, you drew a random, squiggly smiley face beside it. You gave the note to her and waited for her to notice with an even darker shade to your face than before, to which she laughed quietly at the drawing. It was cut short though when she glanced at your name. She said it quietly to herself, before looking back at you and humming.

“Do I get to know your name?” You wondered with a playful smile, head slightly on a tilt and a hopeful glint in your eye.

“Ale.” She said after a moment of brief hesitation. You picked up on it, but were sure she had her reasons, so let it slide.

“Es un placer conocerte, Ale.” You held your hand out and, with a coy smile, Alexia deftly took hold of it and shook it gently.

That handshake, one small and common gesture, was the start of something much bigger than the both of you.

—

You lay in bed that night, a book beside you waiting to be read and the bedside table lamp on, with a question mark lingering over you. It was just after midnight, and despite the luxury of the house and the grand size of it, you’d chosen the smallest bedroom to stay in during your time. No one ever wanted it, it was always the last choice, but it called to you for some reason everytime. Your friend joked that there should be a plaque with your name on it at this point on the door, saying it was your room and yours only. Maybe you pitied it, maybe you knew how it felt. But it’s just a room, the walls aren’t alive no matter how much they speak to you, and as quick as it arrives the thought leaves. 

The question mark that hangs shrinks suddenly, redacting down into your right hand. Your eyes follow it, moving from the ceiling above you to the palm that fuzzes in an attention-seeking nature. It’s the one that had been held so delicately by the woman that had quietly interrupted you that morning, and before you know it there’s a familiar heat to your cheeks that has nothing to do with the late night warmth of the Spanish weather. It does have everything to do with her.

There was still everything that you didn’t know about her. She was from Barcelona, her name was Ale, and you both shared a mutual friend in María. And if you pieced together things you knew about your good friend, there was other information you could gather about Ale too. María played football for Barcelona’s football club, and they were fairly successful. Though you wouldn’t know a thing, you hadn’t been to a game before nor had you even watched one. The only sides of María you know is the laid back, relaxed version that dismisses any talk about football on vacation, and the party animal you had first met. Football wasn’t your thing, and María wasn’t one to force that upon anyone. She kept that separate from you, and the closest you came to being interlinked with the sport was when she invited her teammates along to join your friend group for whatever social occasion she had organised, both here and back home in Barcelona.

So perhaps Ale played football. Or, at least, worked for María’s team. She did look quite athletic, to say the least. That was probably the most polite way to phrase it. Regardless, Alexia had never appeared at any dinners or club night-outs that María had organised, you would remember if she had.

To the world, Alexia was an enigma. She is to you, too, but for entirely different reasons. The world had known her for twelve years as she performed at the highest standard in football, a role model on and off the pitch to every boy and girl, old and young. You had known her for less than twenty-four hours, but you were struck with the sense that knowing her for a lifetime could be a gift untold by any literature.

Your book doesn’t get opened that night. Thoughts of a certain someone are enough to lull you asleep. And some miles away, that very person ends up in the same scenario.

The shy smiles you greeted each other with bright and early the next morning at the boat charter desk subconsciously notifies you both that there are strangely similar butterflies making a home for themselves in your stomachs. 

For the first half of the day, the pair of you don’t really come together again. Rather, you stick with your usual friends, but Alexia would be lying if she said her eyes didn’t drift over towards you any chance she could get. You’re the same though, but when you’re caught out by one of your friends, you deny it with a blush and try to shove Ale to the back of your mind.

Until everyone decides they’re bored of tanning and relaxing, and they all jump into the ocean the second the boat is anchored. You, as someone not entirely comfortable in the water, decided to stick it out for now and stay on the boat. Considering how hot it was, you would have thought everybody would have jumped in to cool down. But not everyone.

“Hola.” A voice said from behind, before they came to lay beside you at the front of the boat.

“Morning. I don’t have any cleaning for you to do, I’m afraid.” You teased, linking your hands together over your eyes to avoid them averting to other places. Oh, and to block the sun too.

“Thank you, señorita.” Alexia grinned, adjusting her sunglasses as she turned to look at you. “Qué tal?”

“I'm very well, thank you. Y tu?” 

“I am good also. You do not like the water?” She wondered, hearing it call her name but when she saw you alone, she couldn't resist.

“Not really.” You replied sheepishly, and the smirk that built on Alexia’s face after that was a little unnerving. “You can get in, if you want. You don’t have to sit here with me.”

“Hm, no. Y si te caes del barco? I will be your… salvavidas.” Before you registered what you were doing, you scoffed and lightly hit her forearm. The Spaniard laughed at your horrified expression afterwards, waving you off before you got the chance to apologise.

“I don’t need a lifeguard on dry land.” You grumbled, crossing your arms petulantly. 

Alexia hummed in amused agreement, and the pair of you fell into comfortable silence. There was far worse company than that of an enticing Spanish woman, whose idea of relaxation was apparently similar to yours. For some time then, she was content to lie beside you in the heat of the sun, her sunglasses and cap keeping her face protected from the UV… and your gaze. 

You tried, albeit not very hard, to keep your eyes on the words of your book in front of you, but every so often they glanced over at Ale. She was the embodiment of peace, with her hands behind her head and a hint of a smile on her lips. It was your intrigue about her that grasped your attention; out of everyone on the boat, all of her close friends and the others she could have chosen to get to know instead, she was here beside you. That didn’t happen to you very often.

Your solitude was something you valued, though it wasn’t entirely out of choice. Things happened, good and very bad, to get you to this point, and it all made you into the person you are now. People rarely ever gravitated to you like Ale had. More often than not, you were just a fly on the wall. And, really, that was why you weren’t at the party the other night. They weren’t your thing, not just because of the noise and chaos, but because you weren’t really a drink and dance kind of person. You were a sunbathe and read person. 

Being a part of the crowd wasn’t something that appealed to you anymore. For years, you had tried to fit in, but after one too many interactions with the worst half of humankind’s people, it was better to stay in your shell. Some days, you pondered if you had just convinced yourself if solitude was the better option as a result of your own failures, or if it was something you genuinely enjoyed. It was a dichotomy that you didn’t often like thinking about too much.

“You are reading.” Alexia stated simply, meeting your eyes when you turned to look at her with a laugh.

“Yes, I am. Congratulations.” You grinned at her, the other woman rolling her eyes.

“You are reading, but the water is there.” She sat up and rested her elbows on her knees as she glanced around at the glassy ocean that stretched on into the horizon. 

“Do you want a medal for that, Captain Obvious?” You replied without looking away from your book, although the words weren’t really registering anymore.

There was a snarky reply on the tip of Alexia’s tongue at that, but now wasn’t the time to spoil the whole facade she had built up around you. To you, she was just Ale, nobody else. Was it wrong for her to want to relish in the ease that brought for her? Possibly. The life you lived was so different to the one she had, it was nice to remember the simplicity that her world once held.

“Do you not read on vacation? There’s no better time to do it.” You continued whilst she got stuck in her thoughts, glancing at her as she stayed silent. With a gentle nudge against her ankle with your foot, you brought her back down from wherever her mind had floated off to.

“Sí, I do. But there is more fun things to do. What is that phrase? Algo sobre el pelo…” She mumbled to herself, with a scowl and a frown as she jogged her memory that you found way too endearing considering the fierceness it possessed.

“Let your hair down?” You provided, giggling when she briskly turned to you and nodded whilst snapping her fingers.

“Sí! Let your hair down, get in the water. Conmigo, juntos.” She tried to transfer some of her excitement over to you, and you hated to admit it, but she was quite convincing.

“I’m alright here. You go, you don’t need me.” Apparently, the Spaniard wasn’t one to back down.

“No, venga, you are coming. The boat has, uh, those silly chaquetas. You will have one.” She stood up abruptly, bored of sitting still, and held her hands out expectantly. 

“I’m not wearing a life jacket! That’s embarrassing, Ale.” You laughed, though you sat up and took her hands to stand up, trying not to stare at the skin on show that passed your eyeline as you did.

“No, está bien! You, you want to sit aquí and be muy aburrido? No! Diviértete! Vamos.” 

With far more confidence than she actually had deep down, Alexia kept hold of your hand and led you through the empty boat to where she had seen some life jackets earlier. You were a giggling mess behind her, staring at her muscular back and all the artwork that decorated it. Her hand was warm and almost entirely encapsulated yours, a fact you would have to ignore for now. 

You had known her for hardly a day, yet here you were jogging hand in hand and laughing like teenagers. It was… refreshing. And so unusual to anything you had ever known in your life. You were a reclusive person that liked routine, familiarity. Not life jackets and treacherous water. Well, maybe not treacherous, the clear ocean was as still as could be, but that’s besides the point. 

This woman, Ale, barely counted as an acquaintance. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel extraordinarily enticed to dive right in, even if it went against every single one of your instincts. Not in that sense though, only in a metaphorical way.

“Ale, I’m not doing it.” You cowered away from the edge of the small platform at the back end of the boat, whilst Alexia sat beside you with her legs already in the water. Despite your earlier grievances, there was now an embarrassingly neon yellow life vest strapped around your torso that screamed ‘I’m English and terrified of water!’

“Jump! Es bonito, créeme.” She urged you with an enchanting smile that was a little hard to resist. 

In an all too distracting fashion, she whipped her white cap off and sat up straight to tie her hair into a bun, and you had to avert your eyes away from her once more. She caught you already, if the crimson to your cheeks was anything to go by and the awkward nature you adorned anytime she moved. 

“If you’re so sure, why aren’t you getting in?” You challenged her, only for her to smirk.

“Porque no soy… a pussy.” 

At that, she lowered herself into the warm sea with a smug look on her face, whilst you stared at her in shock at how such an innocent seeming woman who claimed to know no English just insulted you in such a way. All she did was turn onto her back and gaze up at you with a knowing grin. The way she looked so effortlessly relaxed floating on her back did seem like fun. But you weren’t so easily convinced.

“Venga, cariño. In.” She waved you over with one hand, smiling coyly as you sighed but sat down on the edge nevertheless. “Sí, step one! Now in!”

“Alright, alright! You’re like a pushy swim coach, let me do it in my own time.” Her teasing demeanour softened then, and she swam the short distance back to where you stood. She held onto the platform with one hand whilst she offered the other out to you.

“I will be here. It is okay, lo prometo.” 

Alexia’s smile wasn’t mocking or exasperated, it was bashful and welcoming. Her eyes and her hand were inviting, and you had a feeling that there was some kind of foreshadowing underlying if you didn’t let her guide you into the warm water around. Like the ones you see in the movies, in the books you read. Whether it was that weird, nagging feeling that had you sitting at the edge and fearfully lowering yourself in or if it was Ale’s carefree nature that you had wished for all your life, you had no idea.

“Ves? Te lo dije.” The blonde had to suppress her laughter at the terror in your eyes that you tried to hide, but that laughter was easy to ignore due to the overriding joy she felt at such a simple event. She just hoped this wasn’t the last she saw of you.

“Sure, sure.” You mumbled, your legs flicking aimlessly to tread the water, when in matter of fact it was your vest doing most of the work. “Okay, it isn’t too bad, actually.”

“Te lo dije, cariño! Ahora, on your back. Arms like an angel. Like, with the snow.” Her instructions were a little skewed, probably due to the language barrier, but you gathered what she was saying. A moment later, you were floating on your back in the water like she had been doing a few moments ago. It was pretty relaxing. “Ahh, sí. Podría hacer esto todo el día.”

“And you say reading is boring on vacation.” You mumbled, gasping when she splashes at you.

“This is better, do not lie.” Alexia shrugged as best as she could considering her current situation.

Little did she know, she had started a war.

Feeling somewhat cocky with your handy floatation device, you awkwardly paddle closer before forcing a wave her way. Immediately after you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter at how it borderline water-boarded her. Once she had wiped her eyes, she looked over at you with revenge burning in her eyes. You were done for. 

Considering you were both adults, the childish fight went on far longer than expected of you both. There were more than just your eyes on each other, the commotion had caught the eyes of a few of the others. One person in particular had a pleased grin on her face. On the surface, of course she was happy to see two of her closest friends get along so well. Deep down, however, she wanted nothing more than to see it develop into something better. 

She had been there to witness things she never wanted to see for the both of you. And as a result of the individual difficulties experienced by each of you, there were some wounds left over that she believed could be healed by something right in front of your eyes. The purity that lived in your hearts which, once comfortable with another, could be so clearly seen on your sleeves was something Mapi believed would do wonders for every aspect of your respective lives.

Alexia’s soul had been stamped on by past relationships and her flame had simmered to a dim glow, her chest a hollow and desolate place. You had stomached countless blows, many that would’ve taken the average person out, and yet you were stronger for it. You’d made a life for yourself, sure. An outside glance would show a successful woman at the height of her career, loving life abroad with enough friends around the globe to fill up a village. Should anyone get a look inside your mind, they’d see it was void of love, of true joy. Like Alexia, your personality had been broken down and shoved into a closet, for no one to see or have the privilege of truly getting to know. 

Mapi knew, in an ideal world, you and Alexia could find yourselves in a relationship that would take you so high on a personal level. Except, it’s not an ideal world, it’s a cruel one that had gotten you both to this shattered point anyway. She could only hope that the road to get there wasn’t a long, arduous one that neither of you would deem worth it. 

“Alright, alright! Truce!” You shouted, desperately trying to swim away from Alexia and her lethal attacks. 

“Ah, I won!” She cheered, throwing her arms in the air in celebration, only for her to sink down. Laughter bubbled out of you before you could stop it, and if the water hadn’t taken her breath away, the sound you made sure would have. “I get a prize, no?”

“What? No! If I had known there was a prize, I would have tried harder.” You rolled your eyes, only to be met with a cheeky grin when you looked back at her.

“No, te equivocas. Lo gano todo, siempre.” Apparently, in every turn of life, Alexia’s competitiveness had no qualms with showing itself.

“Ah, so you are a footballer.”

It meant to come out in a teasing way, but it didn’t quite land right. Alexia’s smile faltered, a dejected look forming in her eyes. Dread washed over you; this happened every time. Just as you were getting somewhere with a person, you said something that would erase all your progress. This time had the chance to hurt a lot more than all the others, even after just a day.

“I am.” Alexia nodded with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes like the others you had seen.

“I’m sorry for saying that, I didn’t mea-”

“No, no, no te preocupes. You… I was going to tell you pronto, pero…” She trailed off and glanced away, shrugging slightly.

“You wanted to do it in your own time. Get a break from that part of your life.” You finished her sentence for her, and just like that, she was gazing at you again with admiration in her eyes.

“Yes.” She whispered with a nod, her eyes wide but not unnerving, rather they were almost full of awe.

Everyone in Alexia’s life questioned why she didn’t relish in the glory and popularity that being who she was brought. Her closest family understood of course, but everybody else thought it was strange. Why work so hard for something and not reap the rewards? She didn’t see them as rewards, that’s why. The eyes, the photos taken without her knowledge, the strangers coming up to her in the street and heckling for her to sign something or take selfies when she’d rather disappear off the face of the earth- she didn’t see why anyone would find joy or pride in that when it’s everything she’s ever hated. 

She knew it was a symbol of her achievements, but was it worth it when she would get followed to her apartment, to her family home? Or around the world, like when there was paparazzi on her private vacation the summer before this one? 

And yet, you understood it. You didn’t know her, or the extremes of her job, or the attention she got, but somehow it just clicked. 

It wasn’t some kind of superficial, fairytale moment of ‘soulmate understanding’ for you, Mapi had informed you on the struggles of rising fame a while ago in the midst of the national team struggles when she had escaped with Ingrid to the very island you were on now, which you happened to be on at the same time. You had some level of understanding, only a little, but that was more than enough for Alexia.

“I get it. We don’t have to talk about it.” You told her softly, to which she sighed in relief. “Can we get out of the water now though? I’m thirsty.”

Just like that, the awkward moment had passed.

—

The rest of the day on the boat passes in a flash, and before you knew it, it was pulling up at the docks whilst everyone waited to get off. Each person was just as exhausted as the other as everyone piled off one by one across the tiny plank that everyone secretly feared, especially in such a tired state, but with no casualties, they all went their separate ways. Mapi was coming with you for dinner that night, just the two of you, but she was trailing behind on facetime to Ingrid, so you were walking on your own. Until…

“Hey!” Alexia jogged up to you and gently halted you with a hand on your forearm, coming to stand in front of you with a smile that lost its confidence as soon as you met her gaze. “Oh, um… this is for you.”

As quick as she came, she was gone. All that was left was the note she thrust into your hands before she walked back towards wherever she was initially headed.

In utter confusion, you turned to watch her leave, laughing at the way she scurried away. With a shake of your head, you opened the note and felt your heart rate pick up at just a few words.

Me debes un premio, ¿no? Ven a cenar conmigo mañana por la noche, estaré en el restaurante cerca de tu casa esperandote. Espero verte allí. - Ale

Her handwriting was messy, like a spider had fallen in ink and scampered across the paper, but from what you could make out of the Spanish words… she had asked you on a date. Tomorrow. At the restaurant near your friend’s house that you were staying at. 

Luckily for you, there was only one restaurant that fit Ale’s description - your favourite restaurant out of all the places in the world you had travelled to. You had brought it up with her earlier that day, and apparently this woman had a stellar memory. It was an off-handed comment you made, describing it exactly as ‘the restaurant near your house’ during a random, filler conversation you had had with the Spaniard as you dried off after going in the water again. 

If that was the prize she wanted, it would be rude not to entertain that.

“Qué quería Alexia?” Mapi asked, interrupting your internal gushing.

Alexia. Her actual name.

“Um, well…” You started, only to trail off as your cheeks turned a crimson colour. With words failing you, out of embarrassment or wonder, you weren’t sure, you handed Mapi the note.

“Qué es esto…” Mapi cut herself off as she read the words in her mother tongue, before looking up at you with her jaw to the ground and her eyes popping out of her head. “Dios mío!”

“María, be quiet!” You shushed her urgently, snatching the note back, only for her to do the same as she read it again and again. “If you rip that, I sw-”

“Ale moves quick! Damn!” She burst out into giddy laughter, grabbing your shoulders and shaking them excitedly. “You have a date!”

“I should never have told you, for god’s sake.” You muttered, turning and walking away from her. She cheered wildly behind you before running to catch up.

“I think it goes without saying that I am happy for you.” She stated, a lot more toned down than she was a moment ago.

“Yeah, you think?” You huffed, crossing your arms as the defender slung an arm around your shoulders. “How long have you known her?”

“Ale? Uff, a very long time. I knew her a tiny bit from international camp but when I joined Barcelona, we became good friends. Whether she likes it or not, I am her best friend.” She hummed. It was hard to ascertain if this was her normal behaviour or if she was a little buzzed from the drinks supplied on the boat. 

“So she plays for your team?” 

“Alexia is Barça. She is Barça, Barça is her.” 

You didn’t quite understand what she meant by that, but it sounded… important. 

It was that reply from Mapi that stuck for the rest of the evening. You thought about it on the way back to your place, throughout dinner whilst the aforementioned woman spoke basically with herself, and as you got ready for bed that night. 

However, it was as you took out your earrings in the bathroom mirror of the tiny en-suite of your favourite bedroom, that you realised there was something under the surface of that comment. There would likely be one true meaning of what that meant for Alexia, but the possibilities were endless for your overthinking mind. 

Was the way she was towards you just an act? What was her true persona? Who really is Alexia?

—

She was just a girl, is what you learn as you walked into the restaurant the next day. 

You had no place to question her based on another person’s comments, even if those words were from her best friend. It would be hypocritical of you, after being on the receiving end of such events all your life, to judge someone before you knew them. 

She was just a girl, nervous to go on a date. That much was clear when you saw her from the doorway, tapping her foot anxiously as her hands fidgeted with the rings she wore whilst waiting for you to show up. She had no idea if you would or not, she didn’t have any way to contact you at all. You could never reject her though.

“Ale, hi.” You said as a waitress led you over to the table, stifling a giggle as Alexia’s chair screeched loudly as she stood up to greet you.

“Hi!” She replied, before clearing her throat and hastily wiping her hands on her trousers. She was dressed relaxed, but suited to the occasion, in a soft cream polo shirt and a darker shade of linen trousers. Her hair was in a half-up, half-down of sorts with two strands at the front out to frame her face, and it was hard not to gawk at her. “You look… so beautiful. Really.”

“Thank you, you look amazing too.” You beamed shyly, gladly accepting the hug she offers and blushing a little at the kiss she leaves on your cheek.

“Sit, sit. We need, uh, menus, where ar-” The blonde’s nerves were evidently on show as her eyes looked around frantically, and though yours weren’t quite so obvious, it’s reassuring to know she felt just the same as you. 

You often kept things built up inside, buried deep down to hide or deal with later. Alexia also did that, typically, but there was something about you that made all her habits and inhibitions fly out the window. It scared her, but the larger part of her took that as a sign that you weren’t someone to lose. She would have you in her life in any capacity, friend or partner, and if she screwed up then she didn’t think she could forgive herself. 

“Ale, Ale, calm down. We have all night, relax.” You gently took hold of her hands and brought her back down to this moment, to which she nodded and breathed in deeply. “You’re nervous, it’s okay. I am too.”

“Lo sé, lo sé. I haven’t been on a date in so long, cariño, I do not want to mess this up.” She sighed, looking across at you with honesty in her eyes and her soul on show, and it took your breath away a little. Maybe this woman in front of you was everything you had longed for all these years. Someone whose whole being was built with the same foundations as yours, with the same outlook on life and the same values. The same simple, peaceful ideation of what life with love could look like.

“You won’t mess this up, Ale. Just be yourself, the woman I was with yesterday, and you won’t mess this up.” You told her, and she nodded a lot less desperately afterwards. Her facial features and her whole entire body softened then, you saw it and felt it in the way it travelled throughout her and into her hands. Of which, took yours in return, raised them to her mouth, and kissed each individual knuckle. This was a date, after all, as her actions then had so kindly reminded you.

“Thank you for coming. I was worried that I may have been too, uh, cocky?” She grimaced at the English word on her tongue, only making you smile. 

“No, not cocky at all. I appreciate you being honest and forward, it’s rare nowadays and… if I’m honest, I don’t really like the process of getting into a relationship. Everyone is all hard-to-get and mind games, it’s not for me.” You’re rambling already, not used to this scenario, and you already feel embarrassed. “Oh, god, I’m sorry, I’ve totally made myself look like an idiot, I’m s-”

“No!” She cut you off abruptly, shaking her head as you turned your attention back to her. “I think that also. But you, I think that… you are different. Good different. That is why I asked for a date. We do not know each other a lot, but I really want to.” 

You smiled at her. 

“I do too.” 

From there, things are peaceful. Simple and tranquil, just like you both hoped. It’s easy being with each other, because there’s a deeper understanding that’s by some magic naturally there. Nothing is forced, nothing is awkward. Well, that’s a lie, there’s a little awkwardness but you’ve come to learn that that’s just a thing between you both. Perhaps it’ll go away with time, but there’s only one way to find out.

After a bit of back and forth, it’s decided that Alexia will pay for the dinner, her rule of thumb apparently since she asked you, and the drinks seem to never end. A mix of alcohol and normal drinks, but as the evening goes on, neither of you want to leave. That damn cliche phrase that you had thought could never be true was in fact the perfect metaphor, no matter how much that grates your teeth; the world does go away when you’re together. The lives you individually lead fade into the background with the room around you, and rather than learning the basic facts about each other, for hours you spill detail after detail of countless personal stories that create a summary of you both that are far more detailed and honest than first date small talk could ever do. 

It all comes down to that basic understanding that was there from the first day in the kitchen. It’s inexplicably hard to comprehend the fact it’s hardly been three days since that initial meeting, but there is serenity at the surface level that is built by the roots below which seem to have intertwined, between two countries in one continent, to provide the foundations of what could be. Years, centuries, of history and alignments have set the standards of love, now it’s up to the both of you to live up to the possibilities that have been placed down for you.

It’s something you don’t necessarily understand, which is ironic, but you’ve got your whole life to think about that. This isn’t a moment to miss or pass up on by overthinking. For once in your life, you're not going to do that. Not when your future could be staring you in the face.

“Your English is not as bad as you told me it was.” You stated, folding your arms on the table and gazing at Alexia who had just finished her second glass of wine of the night, already having had a cocktail and some water before it.

“Thank you. I get nervous to speak, I think.” Alexia replied with a shrug that wasn’t as nonchalant as she thought it would be; it was a little revealing of the insecurity she just stated.

“Well, I like hearing you speak it. It’s very endearing, it’s cute.” You told her with a sly smile. Alexia smirked and nodded, seemingly thinking for a moment before she leaned in slightly.

“Y el español? El español es ‘cute’? Creo que es mucho mejor que el inglés. Pero, sabes, depende de ti, amor. Lo que prefieras.” She purposely lowered her voice, meaning it was a little raspy and wonderfully addictive, especially in her second preferred language. You rolled your eyes affectionately, pretending that the goosebumps on your arms and the back of your neck weren’t there.

“I suppose that’s quite… nice, too.” You admitted a moment later, the footballer grinning at you as you blushed behind the hands that covered your face in faux embarrassment. “Your English is better than María’s.”

“No, no, no. Serio? La mencionas aquí en la cena? Estamos en una cita, dios mío.” Alexia descended off into a ramble about her friend, specifically to hear you laugh, which you did. “A date I am paying!”

“It was a compliment!” You argued with a beaming smile, one that Alexia matched instantly as you played along.

“Lo que sea.” She rolled her eyes, reaching for the bottle of wine that had been ordered after the main meal, now nearly empty. She poured a glass each, which was only a quarter full, but it was a sign that this part of the evening was coming to an end. What came afterwards, neither of you were sure. It seemed you weren’t the only one that didn’t want it to end, and to be honest it’s a wonder that it’s only now the filler topics start. “You had a dinner date with Mapi last night, no? How was it?”

“It was good, it was good. Um… kind of embarrassingly, actually, she wouldn’t stop talking… about, uh, you.” 

Wrong thing to say?

“Oh. You told her about tonight?” There was a hint of a frown tugging at her lips, which made your stomach drop.

“Kind of. A little. She was just teasing me, mostly, you know what she’s like.” You laughed nervously, glad to see it put a smile on Alexia’s face as she nodded in agreement. It went quiet for a moment, and it was clear you were stuck in thought as you traced your finger around the bottom of your wine glass. “She was really happy for us, actually. Couldn’t stop gushing about it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like, she was so happy that it was all she wanted to talk about. Something about how her two best friends dating would be ‘the best thing in the world’, so… yeah.” You shrugged, kicking yourself for bringing it up. Not for long though.

“It could be.” Alexia hummed after a moment. You glanced up from your glass to see her staring at you openly, and not put off by the topic at hand. “It could be the best thing in the world. We do not know until we try.”

All you could do at that was nod, because it caught you so off-guard. So you did nod, a little gormlessly, at which Alexia laughed quietly, and it snapped you back to reality.

“You’re right. We don’t know until we try.” You agreed, Alexia humming again and nodding. 

The silence after that didn’t need to be filled, unlike the last one. In fact, it wasn’t.

You both drank the last mouthful of your wine, sharing a knowing glance over the glasses, before they clinked down against the table and you both stood up. Alexia waited for you as you grabbed your bag, and all you could think was thank god this wasn’t some American movie where you had to pay the cheque after dinner. You shook that thought away, physically, to which Alexia pulled a confused at, only for you to shake your head and grab her hand. 

There was a sense of urgency about the situation now, felt by the both of you. On the way out of the restaurant, Alexia could barely drop a ‘gracias’ to the waiting staff before she was dragged outside the quaint building by you. But, when you step foot outside, you didn’t know where to go from there. You didn’t know if Alexia wanted the same thing you were hoping for in that moment, and if she didn’t, it might have killed all the excitement for you.

Out on the street, bustling with the night life of the summer evening, you turned to her, a little awkwardly, and searched her eyes. All you found was contentment, and a hint of the desire you felt. Still, you didn’t want to assume anything.

“So… what are you thinking?” You wondered. The blonde maintained eye contact with you, and you felt compelled to hold it, despite the awkwardness you harboured. Then, a moment after, she chuckled under her breath with a shake of her head. “Wha-”

In a split second, her lips were on yours. They didn’t move, they were delicate, and it took you a slow moment to catch up. Just as you kissed her back, her mouth was gone. She stood facing the road again like she hadn’t just thrown everything you thought you knew on its head. You gawked up at her, out of confusion and adoration for what you had just experienced, then turned to face the street as well. There was no emotion on her face, just stoicism and a seemingly total lack of care for what had happened. You clasped your hands in front of you, a frown beginning to form. 

Yet, just as it did, there were a pair of warm hands encapsulating your cheeks and the same pair of lips from before back on yours. You got up to speed much quicker this time; the kiss was soft and seamless, moving at a slow pace as the warmth in your heart far outweighed the warmth of the Spanish climate around you. 

You didn’t kiss on the first date, but apparently that was just a rule you had made after going on too many dates with the wrong people. Because this, well, this was so much better than preserving some stupid rule you had stolen from all the books you read.

Your arms reached up to wrap around Alexia’s neck as the kiss deepened a little, perhaps much more outside your comfort zone considering you were on a public street, but that was the thing about Alexia.

This woman was constantly pushing your boundaries, but not in a panic-inducing way. She did it in a way as if she had peeked inside your mind and picked out all the boundaries that you loathed, and instead replaced them with memories you could have only ever dreamed of. That day in the kitchen, if it had been anyone else standing in your doorway, you would have definitely turned them away. It had taken one look in her eyes, and you knew she was going to change the entire trajectory of your life in the most unexpected way.

“Do you, maybe, want to come back to my place?” You whispered, a little breathlessly, with your forehead resting against hers.

“Sí, me encantar-”

Her phone’s ringtone interrupted her.

It rang out from her pocket, and she groaned as she grabbed it, intending to decline the call. However, along with it she saw a barrage of texts she had unknowingly received throughout the night. At the sight, she had no choice but to answer it.

You stifled a frustrated groan as she brought it up to her ear and answered whoever it was in Spanish, taking a few steps away. With a moment’s peace, you dug your own phone out of your bag and frowned at the first notification you saw.

María: Please forgive me for what I have to do!!

Hardly a minute later, Alexia came back over with the same frustration you felt written all over her face.

“Mapi just rang. One of my younger teammates has got very drunk. I need to go and care for her tonight.” She revealed with a sharp breath out, slotting her phone back into her pocket and shaking her head down at you.

“It’s okay.” You told her with a reassuring smile, frowning again when she shook her head.

“It is not. I am sorry. I wanted to… to spend the night with you, not with-” She cut herself off with a groan, both hands coming up to rub at her face in annoyance. 

“Ale.” You murmured, gently pulling her arms back by her forearms, before your hands slid down her soft skin to hold her hands between you both. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m just happy I spent the evening with you today. I really enjoyed it. I think I needed it.”

The anger inside her melted away as a result of your admission. She nodded and brought you in for a hug, which you happily indulged in.

“I will make it up to you. I promise.” She stated firmly, pulling back from the hug to gaze down at you. It took her barely time at all to convince herself to kiss you once more. And in it, she conveyed every feeling and emotion she would have shown you that night, had she been able to.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow anyway, at the dinner, remember?” You reminded her of the next day's event, something you were both invited to once again. She nodded, and at that, you parted ways.

That day, you didn’t end up speaking much about your current life, or hers, and you never found out what María meant by her statement the night before, because quite frankly it wasn’t on your mind. It doesn’t matter to you. You learnt all you needed to know that you were in love with her, even if it had been just three days.

—

Despite the previous night's perfections, there was one fatal flaw that you had failed to make known so far. It would bite you in the ass as much as it would hurt Alexia.

After the dinner with everyone that had come along on the trip, including yourself and Alexia, you would be going back to the house you were at to pack for your flight only a few hours afterwards. Tonight was your final night.

In your bag, there was a surprise that would hopefully make it somewhat less painful than it could be. That might be wishful thinking though.

Most people were there by the time you arrived at the idyllic restaurant, a laid-back vibe to the place with fake plants and vines covering the walls and vintage bulb lights strewn across the ceiling. All of that was at the back of your mind; there was, realistically, only one reason you agreed to this dinner tonight. 

“You're here.” Alexia whispered in your ear as she took a seat beside you, once again choosing you in a room filled with many more interesting people.

“I am.” You turned to her with a smile, a certain fluttery feeling in your stomach as a delicate hand landed on your knee. 

“I am so happy to see you.” She admitted, glancing around to see everyone else busy with greetings, so she looked back at you and quickly ducked down to place a kiss on your shoulder. “I have waited all day for this, for you.”

“That’s a pretty big compliment, Ale.” You said sheepishly, cowering back into your seat and feeling a little out of place in such a large group.

“It is true. I swear it.” She beamed, and that alone was all the persuasion you needed to stay. 

And you did, no matter how much your skin crawled with the amount of people and conversations and extroversion on show, you stayed. 

Everytime you got a wave of anxiety or unbelonging, there was a steady presence beside you that remained there at all times. It was strange, having so much trust in what most people would class as a stranger considering the time frame of it all, but for you she was like a shelter in the storm. 

It’s just a shame that you had a cloud of dread looming over you all night, and she was soon to be the victim of it. 

At one point, after the main meal, you managed to sneak away from it all. You slipped out quietly, without a fuss or a fanfare, having perfected the Irish goodbye during all these years. You could be found at the rooftop bar just above, your guilt not allowing you to head home just yet due to the one person who you had told to meet you there when she was ready.

For much less time than you expected, you nursed a single mocktail, at peace with your solitude once more, even with the Menorcan nightlife booming all around. But, as you had learnt within the last few days, there was one person that could always pull you out of the anxious pit you thought yourself into.

“Hola, cariño.” Alexia slid onto the stool across from you at the small, intimate table you had chosen by the railing, with an incredible view of the surrounding area. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, fine.” You brushed her off with a tight-lipped smile, one Alexia could see through instantly, as one hand anxiously clasped your glass and the other scratched the back of your neck. 

“No, you do not look fine.” Alexia frowned, delicately resting a hand on your forearm.

“That’s kind of you.” You laughed, but it was humourless.

“No, you understand what I said. You do not seem yourself.” She said, a little softer than her last words. You shrugged and averted your eyes to the scenery to your right. Her hand squeezed your arm, trying to gain your attention again. It didn’t work, “You can talk to me. I will listen. I am good at that.”

“You are good at listening.” You smiled at her then, to her relief, falling deeper and deeper into her eyes everytime she grinned at you. “It really doesn’t matter, Ale. It’s… it’s silly.”

“Not to me. Venga, talk. Off your mind.” 

Pushing your boundaries, again. Not to laugh at you, or mock you, or cause years worth of emotional anguish. She was doing it simply because she cared. There was no double meaning to it. It was just who she was.

“I guess those kinds of things, the dinner with everyone, just aren’t really… my crowd.” You met her eye nervously, just to be met with earnesty and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. “I feel out of place there, I always do. I just wish I could be in the background, but at the same time I want to be a part of it. Everyone looks so… free of their burdens, and I just carry them around with me like chains dragging me down and I don’t know how to get out of that mindset.”

The silence that met your rambling was deathly unnerving, and part of you was considering hopping on a flight right this second, to anywhere that’ll have you. Somewhere cooler than this heat, off the grid, with no one around… Alaska? Somewhere in Canada? Or perhaps a place in Chile, or Peru, or-

“You were never in the background to me. Never.” Alexia stated honestly. “You can be like them. But I like your quieter qualities too. Who you want to be one day, I think I will like her anyway.”

For a moment, they were precisely the words you wished to hear all along. Then that passed. In its wake, the same sense of dread from earlier. Almost as if you were already going through the heartbreak that would surely come.

“I have something else to tell you, Ale.” You mumbled. She nodded, emphatically, more than prepared to take on board any more of your insecurities, worries, anxieties, anything. “I’m going home tonight. My flight is at five in the morning.”

“W…what?” Alexia murmured, hoping, praying that she hadn’t heard what she was sure she had.

“I have to leave soon, to get ready for my flight home.” You repeated, expecting her to pull away or to get angry. She didn’t. But you could see the melancholy swirling in her eyes, no doubt drowning her heart too.

“Why did you not tell me sooner? I thought we had more time.” She said dejectedly, her grasp on your arm a little firmer than it was before. It was clear to you she wasn’t ready to let go yet, and that made it all indefinitely worse. Much harder than you expected.

“I-” Your voice cracked over the short syllable. “I’m sorry, Ale. I didn’t really know how to tell you.”

“Do not be sorry, and do not cry, please. It will hurt more if you cry, then I will cry, it will be a mess.” You laughed at her words, and she managed to crack a smile too. “When do you have to go?” 

“Soon. Soon.” You answered, sniffling and wiping your eyes before the tears fell. Then you remembered. “But I have something for you! It’s in my bag, just for you.”

Alexia chuckled at how you frantically looked through your bag for the item you were looking for, pulling it out not a moment later. She took it from you gently, like it was some kind of ancient relic she had to handle with care, knowing how much it meant to you.

“Your book?” She smiled softly at you, this one object worth so much more to her than anything she possessed, just due to the sentiment of it.

“My favourite book. I think you’ll like it. It’s in English though, so that might put you off.” You teased, but instead of playing along, she shook her head and tore her eyes away from the gift to gaze at you with nothing but unabashed amazement exuberating from her. 

“No, I will read this. Thank you, for giving a piece of yourself to me.”

“Here, let me write something in it for you.” 

You rooted through your bag for a pen you knew was in there, finding it in a heartbeat. Alexia slid the book over to you and watched you with great intent, only for you to turn the cover over so she couldn’t see what you wrote on the first page. She rolled her eyes and looked away, entirely missing the way you flicked through to the final page and scribbled something down quickly. The click of the pen brought her attention back to you, and she went to take it back before you slammed your hand down on the cover.

“No, don’t read it while I’m here. Wait until I’m gone.” You demanded. With a sigh, she gave in, knowing she would let you lead her off of a cliff if you just said the words. She went to speak again, only to be stopped by a ringtone, yet again. “I’m sorry, Ale. That’s my alarm. I need to go.”

Goodbyes were the worst. No amount of preparation and acceptance could force away the onslaught of emotions that built up merely at the idea of them. You found yourself grasping for the right words, but you knew deep down that none can appropriately capture the magnitude of what you’re feeling. It’s a blur, that sacred moment, and it feels awfully final. Though you know that life, with all its beauty, will cross your paths again some day, there’s no certainty in anything. 

And that thought, as you pull away from her arms and take it step by step across the bar, constricts your heart tightly, as if it’s still her hand holding it and refusing to let go. You feel the ache of her absence already, though you still share the same air, and the tears on your face glimmer in the warm light of the fairy lights above you.

Alexia hadn’t quite felt heartbreak like it. She had known love, she had known loss. But never had she felt so sick to her stomach at the idea of someone walking so simply out of her life. Still, she had no way to contact you, only knowing your first name and that you lived in Barcelona. Yet, at the same time, she knew everything about you. In your opinion, there wasn’t another human on earth that so deeply understood the essence of your being. But she couldn’t do anything about it. You were out of her reach now. A face in the distance. 

In secret you both met and in silence you will now grieve, because no one could understand how deeply intertwined you had become with each other’s souls in such a short time.

Isn't it strange, how a few fleeting moments can change every hope and dream about the future. And yet, in the glimpse of an eye, it can disintegrate into a past memory before we even know it.

—

Part two? because what if i said, theoretically, i already have the whole entire plotline figured out for it🌝 let me know what you think :)

[scribblesofagoonerr]

You're just like them | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x reader!buddy x jordan nobbs

summary: monkey is unhappy to spend the night round jordan's for the first time since the transfer to aston villa and she makes her feelings known

double the trouble masterlist

also thank you to @alotofpockets for help with pics for the header + little ideas to add in along the way

“No,” The words out of your mouth were sharp, you folded your arms across your chest and shook your head stubbornly. You were known to be stubborn at times and today was certainly no different.

“It won’t be that bad,” Leah tried again, her tone being gentle but firm, “And you won’t be on your own, Buddy will be there with you as well.” She pointed out, motioning to your favourite little buddy that is bouncing around happily, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room.

“We’re goin’ to Mama’s house!” Buddy chimed in cheerfully, “Monkey ‘ou can see Blu too!” She’s far more excited about this decision than you are, but then again you suppose she’s used to being there more frequently than you, in fact you’ve not actually been to Jordan’s new place so you have no clue what it’s even like, “I show ‘ou all of my toys!”

“See? Buddy’s excited,” Leah said, motioning to your favourite little buddy with a hopeful smile, “It’ll be fun to be there together!”

“Nope, nuh uh!” You insisted, shaking your head harder, “I don’t wanna go there!”

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling a deep sigh, “Monkey, please. I know you don’t want to go, but I would feel more reassured to know you were there–”

“I don’t get why I can’t just come? I’m almost 18!” You interjected, throwing your hands up in the air, “It’s only another month away, it won’t matter!”

“The keyword is that being almost there, Menace,” Leah chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, “Maybe next year my girl, eh?” She joked, ruffling your hair.

“Get off,” You grumbled and tried to dodge her hand from touching your hair still, “I don’t want to go there!”

Tonight was Leah’s birthday party since she couldn’t celebrate much when it was her actual birthday, so the celebrations were delayed until tonight at least.

You were gutted you weren’t allowed to go, sometimes it sucked to not be an adult yet.

Despite your determination to try and change Leah’s mind, she wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea of you coming into a club while being under the age limit and therefor, had the brilliant idea to all but ship you and Buddy off to Jordan’s much to your absolute detest about it 

Hence the whole argument at that current moment that you’re having with her after she’s just dropped the bombshell on you about going there.

“I know you’re not happy about this my girl but it’s just for tonight,” Leah began to speak, “And yes I’m aware you’re almost 18 now but I’m sorry, you’re not staying in the house alone, I don’t know what time I’ll be back and I would feel a lot more comfortable if you were somewhere that I knew you were safe, okay?” She told you firmly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.

“But why do I have to go there though?” You huffed and stomped around in strong disagreement, you definitely weren’t going to agree to going there against your own will, “I’m not going and you can’t make me!”

“Monkey, come on. Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Leah exhaled a sigh and rested her hands on her hips, “Jordan’s really looking forward to spending time with you both as well.”

“I don’t care, I’m not going! Why can’t I just go to Kim’s house? Or even Wally’s?” You demanded, scrunching your face up in confusion, “Or there’s even Beth and Viv’s as well!”

“Because they will all be coming to the party tonight,” Leah explained patiently, her tone calm despite your attitude overall as she continued to fold a set of Buddy’s clothes and put them in her overnight bag fresh out of the washing basket, “Jordan’s really looking forward to spending time with you and Buddy. It’s been a while since you’ve properly seen her.”

A groan escaped your lips, your frustration bubbling over, “Yeah and there’s been a reason for that,” You murmured, hopping up onto the counter definitely.

“Oi, off there,” Leah swatted at your knee, just like she always does but now you just do it to purposely wind her up, “Will you please just give her a chance?”

Rolling your eyes, you hopped off the kitchen counter, “I don’t want to go, Le,” You mumbled, still standing firm in your protest as you lean up against it and cross your arms.

Leah exhaled a sigh, biting her lip, “Look, I know you’re not thrilled about it, but it’s only for one night–”

 “One night?” You repeated, your eyes widening, “One night? Nah, there’s no fuckin’ way I’m going there and staying overnight! No! You can fuck off if you think I’m doin’ that, Leah!” You hadn’t meant to swear, but you couldn’t help your initial reaction at that very moment, “I thought that I would at least be able to come home tonight after you’re back!”

You especially hadn’t meant to do it in front of Buddy and her little ears.

Buddy gasped, her little eyes wide as saucers, “Monkey, ‘ou said bad words!”

“Tattletale,” You murmured, rolling your eyes.

“Excuse me?” Leah’s eyes narrowed, flashing with anger suddenly. You guess you did just swear at her, what other type of reaction did you expect?

“You’re excused,” You replied, a cocky smile plastered over your face, “I’m not goin’ there!”

“Yes you are,” Leah snapped, her patience now wearing thin, “I get that you’re annoyed and upset about this, but I am definitely not going to stand here and allow you to swear at me like that and think you can get away with it. You don’t have a choice in this, you’re the child and I’m the adult and what I say goes, understood?”

“Urgh, whatever. It wasn’t even directed at you!” You grumbled, completely lying through your teeth but you didn’t want to make the situation worse for yourself, the blonde looked pissed as it was already, “I’m not goin’ there and you can’t make me!”

Leah’s jaw tightened, you can see a flicker of hurt flash across her face, but it’s quickly replaced by the stern expression she usually reserves for you when you’ve pushed things too far, “Monkey,” She said, her voice low and controlled, “You’re going to Jordan’s and that’s final. End of discussion.”

“No I’m not!” You shouted, frustration boiling over, “I don’t even care what you say, she abandoned us– she abandoned me! I’m not goin’ there and you can’t make me!”

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a second, there was silence. Even Buddy seemed to sense the shift in the room, her little face wrinkling with confusion.

“Hey, bubba,” Leah turned her full attention to the little one in the room, very much aware this is a sensitive topic to be discussed around her, “Why don’t you go and choose what toys that you want to take to Mama's house when we go there, huh?” She suggested.

“Yeah!” Buddy’s shout was electrifying, not wasting the time to toddle into the living room and seek out the toys that she wants to bring with her for the unexpected sleepover at Jordan’s house.

Leah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the way she’s fighting between anger and empathy, “Monkey, it wasn’t like that,” She finally said, softer now, “Jord didn’t abandon you. You know she didn’t leave you because she wanted to hurt you, she had to make a choice based on her career and sure, it was a difficult one, but it was something that she needed to do but it wasn’t about her not caring, my girl.”

“But she left us… She left without even thinking twice about it!” You snapped back, your voice trembling with emotion you hadn’t expected to feel, “I asked her to not go and she still did!”

All throughout your life, you have had endless people walking in and out of it.

Your mum abandoned you when you were little and your dad couldn’t wait to wash his hands off you the minute that he could. The 2 most important people in your life just decided to up and leave you, just like that.

It’s one of the many reasons why you keep your walls built up so high because then at least nobody can knock them down and hurt you again, right?

You learned to trust people more when you signed for Arsenal and moved in with Leah and Jordan at the start, you opened up to people who you thought would never leave you, all of them stayed apart from one.

Jordan.

It hurt more than it should’ve done, it just really stung.

The separation between Leah and Jordan was a completely mutual decision between the two of them and you could understand that, in fact even when Jordan moved into a place in London, you would still go there and visit, even spend a few nights there with herself and Buddy when you could.

However, things turned sour when you learnt of the woman’s plans to transfer to Aston Villa in the Winter transfer and from there, you found yourself pushing her away.

If you pushed her away then it would save you from getting hurt too much when you eventually didn’t see her, right?

Wrong.

The day of the move, you found yourself crying and begging her to stay, but she never did.

She left you, she left you and Buddy, and even Leah to some extent.

You couldn’t help but resent her for that now if you’re being honest.

Leah sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over her face as if trying to rub away the tension, “I know it feels like that, my girl,” She said softly, “I know it hurts and I wish I could do anything to make it better, but sometimes people have to make choices that don’t always make sense to us. It doesn’t mean that Jord doesn’t care though, you know she loves both you and Buddy, so much!”

“Well it doesn’t feel like she cares nor can she love us that much if she just chooses to willingly go,” You murmured, shoving your hands in the pockets of your shorts.

“No matter what you think, you know deep down that Jordan does care about you, a whole damn lot,” Leah explained to you gently, her eyes softened ever so slightly, “She didn’t want to go, it was just… look, sometimes life just doesn’t give us the easy option.” 

You continued to scowl, stubbornness etched into your every feature, “Yeah if she really did care then she would’ve stayed, regardless of that and whatever.” You can’t say you’re in the mood to listen, to rationalise, or to forgive. As far as you’re concerned, Jordan chose her career over you, she abandoned you and there’s no good enough excuse for that.

“Look, my girl, I know this isn’t something that you want to do and I know you’re still upset with her about things,” Leah knew this isn’t something that’s going to be fixed with words, but she has to try at least, “I’m not saying you have to forgive her today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon, but I do need you to go there, and just… just give it a chance, please?”

“I… I don’t want to go,” You murmured quietly, shaking your head in defiance. The mere thought of it filled you with resentment.

The blonde exhaled a sigh and ran her hand through her hair, “Please? Just do it for me,” She pauses, “Jord really is looking forward to spending some time with you.” She added.

You let out a derisive scoff, the bitterness evident in your voice, “The feelings’ not mutual there,” You retorted, refusing to meet Leah’s gaze, “Please don’t make me go, Le.”

Leah’s eyes softened with a mix of pleading and resolve, “Do it for Buddy, if not for me.”

The mention of Buddy stung, she didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of this but of course Leah knows that you would do absolutely anything for your favourite little buddy.

“Fine,” You snapped, pushing yourself off the counter with a huff, “I’ll go there, but don’t expect me to be happy there!”

Leah nodded, relief evident in her eyes despite the tension, “That’s all I’m asking for, my girl,” She said softly, “Just a chance.”

The initial drive to Jordan’s place was mostly filled with a tense silence, apart from Buddy’s cheerful singing from her car seat to none other than the soundtrack of North London Forever that she surprisingly asked for herself and of course Leah was quick to agree to the request. 

You keep your gaze stubbornly fixed out of the window, refusing to look at Leah or engage in any conversation and the blonde, thankfully senses your mood and doesn’t push further, already exhausted from trying to reason with you.

“Alright then, we’re here,” Leah announced, trying to keep the mood cheerful as she glanced between you in the passenger seat and the rear view mirror to see Buddy vibrating with excitement in her car seat.

“Fantastic,” You murmured, your stomach tightening in resentment as you stared out the window, not wanting to move out of your seat.

“Mama!” Buddy squealed from the back of the car, all but trying to unbuckle her own car seat much to her disappointment of not being able to, “Mummy, wan’ out!” She whined in frustration.

“Hold on a second bubba,” Leah chuckled at your favourite little buddy’s general lack of patience, “Mummy will help you to get out in a minute.” She added.

“Do I really have to be here?” You asked, frowning as you looked at Leah for a response, which you definitely already knew the answer to.

“You already know my answer to that,” Leah retorted, exhaling a sigh as she turned the car ignition off before unbuckling her seatbelt, “It’s just one night.” She reminded you.

“Worth a shot I guess,” You huffed in response and slowly moved to unbuckle your own seatbelt.

“It won’t be that bad,” Leah attempted to reassure you, giving you a soft smile before she opened her car door and climbed out of it to walk round to the side Buddy is to set her free from her car seat, “Right then, my little bubba. Are you ready to go and see your Mama?”

“I see Mama!” Buddy shouted excitedly as Leah unbuckled her and lifted her up to place her on the ground, “Mama! Mama!” She continued to squeal in delight.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go and find Mama,” Leah smiled genuinely at her 2 year old’s excitement as she held her in her arms as she turned back to look to where you’re still sat in the car, “You’re going to have to get out sooner rather than later, you know?” She told you, amusedly.

“I choose later,” You murmured, barely louder than a whisper, reluctant to climb out of the car any time soon, “Better yet, I’ll just stay in here and come back home with you.”

Leah exhaled a sigh and opened the car door, “Get out of the car, Menace,” She paused as she adjusted Buddy to sit on her hip, “Come on, just give it a chance, please?” She asked.

“Don’t have a choice,” You grumbled under your breath as you slowly climbed out of the car and stood there with your hands shoved in your pocket while you looked further unimpressed, “Are you sure I can’t come tonight? Nobody would even notice I was there, it’ll be fine!”

“No,” Leah kept a firm face as she slammed the car door shut behind you, locking her BMW before starting to walk up the steps of Jordan’s house, who had already clocked the car and came to answer the front door, “Bubba, look it is!”

“Mama! Mama!” Buddy immediately leaned towards Jordan the minute that she clocked her and you couldn’t help but dawdle behind with a scowl etched on your face.

“Hi, Buddy!” Jordan exclaimed, reaching out to scoop Buddy into her own arms as she hugged her gently, “I’ve missed you so so much!”

“Mama you’re silly, you saw me yesterday!” Buddy’s giggles were infectious as she reminded Jordan that she did indeed see her yesterday, having it be your favourite little buddy’s birthday yesterday when she finally turned 2 years old.

“Oh of course I did but I miss you all the time,” Jordan retorted playfully as she tickled Buddy under her armpits which caused the 2 year old to laugh even more, “Or is that not allowed now?”

“Where Blu?” The 2 year old asked eager to see the little four legged dachshund and you must admit that you’ve been excited to see him if anything else.

“He’s inside the house and he’s so excited to see you both,” Jordan told the toddler, placing her down on the ground before she toddles inside the house, “Hiya, little one!”

“Don’t call me that,” You said like the words are venomous to you in that moment.

“Oh, sorry,” Jordan was immediately apologetic as she shared a concerned look with Leah, “It’s so great to have you both here, I, er, I didn’t think you would come.” She admitted, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Yeah well I didn’t want to be here, but well, I wasn’t given much choice about it regardless,” You grumbled the truth and continued with your carefree attitude you have going on.

“Monkey, don’t be rude,” Leah chided you for your lack of manners, giving you a pointed look.

“What? I’m just being truthful!” You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders carelessly, “I told you I would come but I didn’t say I’d be nice about things.” You added, honestly.

Leah pursed her lips and narrowed her eyebrow, “Hey, come on. We talked about this.”

“Be grateful I’m even here,” You murmured in response, choosing to have more interest with your phone in your hand than to look between the two old, “Cos’ I really don’t wanna be.”

“Enough of this,” Leah scolded you, “This is Jord’s home and you need to at least be respectful of that, regardless whether you want to be here or not, okay? I don’t want to hear about you being rude this time that you’re here!”

“Ugh, whatever,” You brushed past the older women inside the house with your hood up and slumped down on the sofa.

“Look Monkey it’ Blu!” Buddy motioned to the small dachshund puppy that you hadn’t seen in a good while and you did have to admit that you missed him an awful lot.

“Hi boy! Hi!” You crouched down and gave the puppy some fuss, “Oh, I have missed you!”

“I’m sorry about her,” Leah apologised for your rude behaviour, “She’s just… well she’s a teenager for a start and she’s still not exactly handling it well that you’re not just five minutes down the road now.”

“That’s okay, I know what she’s like. Monkey’s stubborn and if she doesn’t want to do something then she won’t, will she?” Jordan retorted, exhaling a sigh, “She really didn’t want to come that bad, huh?”

The blonde bit her bottom lip and shook her head, “I’m sorry Jord, but I’m sure things will get better. You just have to give it time and be patient with her, even if it’s difficult.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” Jordan replied, smiling at her ex girlfriend, “I can understand if she’s still upset about me moving to Aston Villa, I guess it’s just a lot to handle for her, huh?”

Leah shared a weary smile with her ex girlfriend, “If it gets too much then let me know and I’ll have a word with her, because despite how she feels, she’s not allowed to be rude.” She made her point evidently clear.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jordan reassured Leah with a soft smile, “You deserve to have the night off and enjoy your party tonight, don’t worry about either of the kids, they’ll be fine.”

“It's not so much Buddy I’m worried about, it’s more so Monkey,” Leah admitted, shaking her head as she jiggled her car keys in her hand, “I’ve already dealt with both her delightful attitude and language before we left the house and she knows I’m not putting up with it.”

“Oh, bad morning?” Jordan winced in response, “I had no idea moving to another club would have this much effect on her.” She admitted, ultimately regretting the decision there at that very moment.

“It’s a change and Monkey doesn’t cope with them but she’ll get used to it, Jord,” Leah reassured her ex girlfriend, “It just means things around the house are a little bit tense right now, but she’ll get used to it soon enough.”

“But in the meantime you get the brunt of her delightful teenage attitude? That’s not right,” Jordan frowned, hating the idea of you taking most of your anger out on the blonde, “I’m sorry you're having to deal with that.”

“It’s alright, I totally expected it honestly,” Leah admitted as she exhaled a sigh, “It won’t last forever and she knows I won’t stand for it, I was this close to grounding her after she swore at me earlier.” She adds, her patience wearing thin for your lovely words directed towards her.

“Understandable,” Jordan smiled wearily as she scratched the back of her neck, “I don’t have much hope to fix everything in an instant but I can at least try my hardest.” She tells her.

“Just don’t give up on her,” Leah told her as she shared a knowing look with Jordan as she popped her head into the living room and smiled when she saw you’ve joined Buddy on the floor to give Blu some fuss, “Seems just like old times, eh?” She joked, gesturing for Jordan to look in the living room.

“I swear I have a photo identical to this taken last year,” Jordan joked lightly as she moved further into the living room, “I was thinking that we could have pasta for dinner tonight? Monkey, I know it’s one of your favourites… unless it’s changed?” She asked, hesitant for the backlash from you.

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” You respond politely as you could while seeing the warning luck that Leah is giving you in case you comment something less polite.

“Monkey, you didn’t eat much for breakfast nor did you have anything for lunch,” Leah frowned and shook her head, “You love pasta, especially the way Jord makes it!”

“Not hungry,” You repeated with a tight lipped smile on your face, going back to staring at your phone in your hand and scrolling through Instagram.

“That’s okay,” Jordan agreed with you, “I’ll go ahead and start to make it, I’ll leave some out for you in case you decide you're a bit hungry.” She told you, although you doubt you would want to eat it.

“Right then,” Leah spoke up as she looked towards both you and Buddy, “I’m going to head off back home to get ready, I’ll leave you three to it.”

“Thanks, Le,” Jordan replied, smiling at her ex, “I hope you enjoy your party tonight and celebrate.”

“Oh I intend too,” Leah couldn’t help but grin playfully at her ex, “Much better to know that the girls are both here with you as well.” She added.

“They’re safe with me,” Jordan promised, “Enjoy your party and don’t worry about things here, it’ll be fine.”

“Here’s hoping so– Monkey, be good!” Leah warned, pointing her index finger directly at you, “Remember what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You murmured, rolling your eyes.

“Mummy, wait for me. I didn’t say bye to you!” Buddy came rushing over to Leah and threw her little arms around her.

“Oh how could I leave without saying bye to my little bubba?” Leah leaned down and cupped Buddy’s face in her hands before she peppered her face with kisses, “Be good for your Mama, okay? I love you lots and lots!”

“Love ‘ou lots and lots, Mummy!” Buddy told her, continuing to hug Leah tightly.

“Not as much as I love you, my little bubba,” Leah genuinely smiled at the 2 year old before she turned her attention to you as she walked nearer to where you sat on the sofa, “And I love you too, my grumpy girl.” she told you, placing a kiss on your forehead, much to your own protest about it.

“Leah man, get off,” You grumbled, trying to swat her hand away from touching you, “Bye!”

Leah and Jordan shared another apprehensive look with one another, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control here. I’ll text you if anything bad happens,” Jordan reassured her, “Enjoy the night, honestly.”

“Okay, okay,” The blonde exhaled a sigh and runs her hand through her hair, “I’ll have my phone with me the whole time, so you can still text me if you need too,” She said, looking more towards you to reassure you that you can still get in touch with her if needed.

“Prepared to be spammed with gifs,” You murmured, a mischievous glint in your eye as you don’t even bother to look up from your phone in your hand, “Can’t say I didn’t warn you either.” You added.

“Mama! Mama!” Buddy’s voice was the centre of conversation with Jordan as the two of them played together on the carpet in front of you with some of the cars that your favourite little buddy brought from home, “Me cars’ red like Mummy’s team!”

Jordan’s eyes lit up in amazement as she smiled at the 2 year old, “That’s right, clever girl! What colour is this car?” She wondered, holding up the dark blue coloured car.

“Blue!” Buddy retorted, excitedly, “Like, not Mummy’s team!” She added.

“Well done, Buddy,” Jordan praised the toddler, “You’re getting more and more smart every day, kiddo!” She told her.

You couldn’t help but sit there and roll your eyes. You didn’t care much to contribute to the conversation Jordan and Buddy were having, you would much rather be interested to sit on your phone like you planned to do, at least your TikTok page was a good distraction.

“Alright, I should probably start dinner soon,” Jordan said, realising the time on the clock on the wall, moving to get up from the floor as she looked at you, “Will you please keep an eye on Buddy for me while I sort that out?” She asked.

Glancing up from your phone, you couldn’t help but huff and place it beside you, “Yeah whatever, but not for you though, I’m only doing it for Buddy,” You told her, bluntly as possible.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine,” Jordan responded, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat as she tries to not feel too hurt by that comment but the reality of it was that it really bothered her - You used to be so close with her, you would follow her around like a little shadow and not you want nothing to do with her at all, it really stung.

“Monkey, will ‘ou play with me?” Buddy’s little voice chirped as she peered up to look at you with hopeful eyes, “We build lego!”

“How can I say no to my favourite little buddy?” A small small appeared on your face as you slid off the sofa to join Buddy on the floor, she had all but completely abandoned her cars she was previously playing with in favour of the lego bricks that she attempted to drag over from the corner of the room, “Too heavy, Monkey!” She whines in frustration.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got them, Bud,” You giggled and stood up to easily move and pick up the lego bricks, “See? They’re not that heavy, you just needed a strong big sister to lift them up,” You joked with her.

“Thank ‘ou!” Buddy squealed and immediately dived into the box to start pulling out the different colourful lego bricks, “Monkey, ‘ou start with this one and I start with this one!” She declared, handing you a green block.

“Why can’t I have the one you have?” You asked playfully, pointing to the red block that she had in her hands, “I prefer that one.”

“No, that’s my block. ‘Ou have the green one!” Buddy’s little voice demands firmly, pushing the green block back into your hand, “I like red better!”

“Of course you do,” You retorted, grinning in amusement, “What colour is North London, Buddy?”

“Red!” Buddy declared loudly.

“Ain’t that right, Bud!” You nodded in agreement, “Guess I can agree to stick with the green block just for you.” You added, shrugging your shoulders as the two of you start to build together.

However that didn’t stop the two of you squabbling about the rest of the blocks though.

“What’s going on in here then?” Jordan popped her head round the door as she heard the commotion coming from the living room, “I thought you two would be playing nicely in here, eh?”

“Mama!” Buddy’s lower lip trembled a little, her big eyes filling up with frustration, “Monkey’s not sharing and letting me the ‘ellow block!” She whined, pointing accusingly at you.

“You're such a tattletale sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, feeling the frustration building inside of you, “You wanted me to play with you, Buddy! How am I supposed to build something if you keep taking them all?” You argued, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Jordan sighed and knelt down to the toddlers level, “Buddy, you know if you want Monkey to play with you then you have to share,” She reminded her, “Even if you like the certain coloured blocks.”

“But you don’ understand Mama, I like them ones. Monkey can have others!” Buddy pouted, clearly not liking the answer, “My blocks!” She declared, keeping a tight hold of them.

“Whatever, I don’t care,” You remarked, feeling your own frustration simmering as you do no more than push the tower over that Buddy’s been building in anger, “Oops.”

“M’ Tower!” Buddy’s whined, her upset clearly evident as the tears began to form in her big eyes, her lower lip quivering, “Monkey, ‘ou ruined it!”

“Oh well,” You shrugged carelessly and sidestepped over it to make your way back to sit on the sofa again.

“Monkey!” Jordan’s eyes widened in disbelief at your current attitude, especially towards your favourite little buddy of all people before she was quick to scoop the upset 2 year old onto her lap, “Hey, it’s okay, Buddy. We can just build it again, yeah?” She reassured her, hoping to calm the situation.

Buddy continued to sob and cling to Jordan, “I no wan’ build with Monkey, she’s a meany!”

You couldn’t lie and say that didn’t hurt your feelings because it definitely did to hear it out of the toddlers’ mouth even if she didn’t quite understand the words that she was saying.

“It’s just a tower,” You muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned your attention back to your phone in your hand again to scroll through your social media feeds, “It’s not a big deal.” You added, feeling a tiny bit guilty for upsetting the toddler.

Jordan exhaled a sigh and continued to cradle an upset Buddy in her arms as she turned her attention towards you to address the situation, “Hey, little one–”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped at her, feeling so much hatred towards the woman in that very moment, “I’m not your little one anymore. You of all people don’t get to call me that!” 

Jordan’s face fell, the weight of your words hitting her like a punch to the gut. You watched her blink a few times, trying to process the sting of your outburst while still holding Buddy close.

“Okay,” The woman said quietly, her voice trembling slightly but still calm, “Look, I know you’re upset right now and I’m sorry li– Monkey, I am, but regardless of that, it’s not okay to upset Buddy like you did,” She told her, her tone gentle but still firm.

“Whatever, I don’t care,” You muttered, not having any interest in this conversation with Jordan at that moment, “You can’t tell me what to do either, you don’t get the right to do that anymore!”

“I know,” Jordan mumbled, exhaling a sigh as she knows that you’re really upset with her and she’s not going to push you to talk to her, “Right, Buddy. How about you come with me into the kitchen while Mama cooks dinner and that way we can give Monkey a bit of space, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Buddy sniffled and nodded, her little face still wet with tears as she was reluctant to let go of Jordan anytime soon with her arms wrapped firmly around the older woman.

“Come on then,” Jordan murmured softly, standing up with the toddler in her arms as she casted one more glance in your direction, her expression a mixture of concern and sadness, “Take the time you need to calm down, Monkey. If you need me then we’ll be in the kitchen.” She added, before turning towards the kitchen.

“I won’t,” You stated coldly, although you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt tugging at your chest, but you did your best to shove it down and turn your attention back to your phone.

Had you really meant to come across that horrible?

The frustration you felt was evident and you had to remember that Jordan left you, one of the people that used to be a constant source of comfort and support and now she was just gone, but it was her own fault for leaving when she did, so maybe she did deserve the resentment you were showing towards her after all.

You were even more reluctant to join them for dinner, even if pasta was your favourite dinner sometimes but you were too stubborn to give in.

You were somewhat glad that Jordan seemed to sense that you didn’t want to be bothered and didn’t start up another conversation with you, at least until it came time to put Buddy to bed later that night.

“I’m about to go and put Buddy to bed,” Jordan said after coming back through the living room with the toddler ready for bed in fresh pajamas and wet hair from the bath.

You did have to admit that it hurt a little bit when the toddler didn’t reach towards like she usually did, but you suppose that you were mean when you pushed her tower over.

“Okay, have fun with that,” You muttered, continuing to give her the cold shoulder.

Jordan adjusted Buddy in her arms, “Maybe after that, we could sit and watch a film? You still like Shrek, don’t you?” She offers, hoping to start an olive branch from that.

“Not in the mood,” You murmured, reluctant to look up your phone where you currently had previously been spamming Leah with gifs like you had promised, you were so gutted you weren’t old enough to be there in the club with everyone else and had to be stuck here instead with Jordan.

“For Shrek?” Jordan questioned, tilting her head to the side in shock, “Oh, I never thought I’d see the day. Alright, how about one of those Marvel films? I remember you used to absolutely love–”

“No,” You interjected, scowling at her menacingly, “I don’t want to watch a movie with you, and I don’t want to talk about the past either. You left, remember? That’s on you!”

“Oh, uh well then that’s alright,” Jordan stammered, lost for words in that current moment, “Um, I’m just gonna go and put Buddy to bed then.” She added, quick to escape to the safe haven of the toddlers’ bedroom and leave you to sulk in the living room.

You felt a pang of guilt but then you remembered that Jordan brought this on herself. She’s the one that left you, it wasn’t the other way around.

She deserves to be treated this way.

You weren’t left to stew in your thoughts for very long before Jordan wandered back through into the living room, you hoped that she might just leave you to it but you were sadly mistaken with that as she came to join you on the sofa as she grabbed a hold of the remote and turned the TV on to find something decent to watch.

You were fine enough to not have to speak to her while you just continued to sit there on your phone, you suppose you could have gone and sat in your bedroom but that just felt a bit lonely.

It was awkward though for the two of you just sat in a tense silence before Jordan was the first to start up a conversation, “Monkey,” The woman began to speak as she looked towards you, “Do you, uh, do you think we could talk?” She questioned, hesitantly.

Exhaling a deep sigh, you didn’t break eye contact from your phone at all, “I have nothin’ to say to you,” You murmured bluntly, continuing to scroll your Instagram stories. You had seen several private stories of the girls at Leah’s birthday party tonight and you can’t help but be envious that you couldn’t be there instead.

“Okay, well how about you just listen and I talk then instead?” Jordan suggested, wearily as she muted the TV show she’d stuck on, “Look, I know that things have been tough since I transferred to Aston Villa, but you have to understand I did it for the right reasons.”

“You left,” You sneered at her, cold and heartlessly.

Why couldn’t you be at Leah’s party instead of being stuck here in this current situation?

It wasn't fair!

Speaking of the blonde, she had sent you a delightful text that you somewhat made sense off right at the moment.

captain buzzkill 🙄🫡 Hi my cheeky monkeey! 🐒 I hoep you’re not causin any trouble for jord and pease don’t give her a hard time. she loves you so mcuh and I love you so mcuh. lots and lots like jelly tots my girl 💕💕 I’ll see you tomorrrow xxx

You couldn’t help but giggle at the state of her text message, it was very clear that she was very drunk already by the lack of words spelled correctly but it was nice then even when she was out partying and having a good time, she still thought about you and checked in to make sure you were okay throughout.

“What’s so funny?” Jordan questioned, curiously as she peered up from looking at her own phone.

“Nothin’ just something one of the girls sent me from college,” You lied to her, not wanting to tell her it was actually Leah.

Jordan hummed in agreement, “Oh right,” She paused, “Hey, do you uh, do you want to have a game of Fifa?” She suggested another attempt to try and make amends.

“No I’m good,” You were quick to agree.

“That’s okay,” Jordan replied, sounding disheartened.

You huffed and stood up from the sofa, “I don’t want to play video games, I don’t want to watch anything and I certainly don’t want to talk to you,” You told her bluntly, not giving her the chance to speak again, “I’m going to bed,” With that, you made your quick escape down the hallway to your bedroom that you had here.

Although you didn’t make a direct beeline for your bedroom, instead crept quietly inside the toddlers’ bedroom, “Buddy?” You whispered quietly, praying that she wasn’t already asleep.

“Monkey?” Buddy’s little head popped up from her cot with her dummy bobbing gently in her mouth as her eyes lit up when she saw you, before she reached her arms out.

A small smile tugged at your lips, a sense of relief washing over you that she still wanted you despite the way you had acted earlier, “Yeah, it’s just me,” You murmured softly, leaning over the bars of the cot to scoop her up gently. 

Making sure to grab Buddy’s blanket, you wrapped it around her to keep her warm, before sitting down with her in the rocking chair, “I wanted to say sorry for upsetting you earlier.”

“Ou’ were mean,” Buddy mumbled, her words muffled by her dummy still in her mouth as she nuzzled her head against your chest, “Ou’ broke the tower.”

“I’m sorry I did that,” You whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as you felt the guilt of earlier weighing heavily, “That was really mean of me to do it and I didn’t mean to get so angry about things either.”

“Ou’ mean to Mama too,” Buddy said, her eyes peering up at you with quiet sadness, “Ou’ made Mama sad. Don’ like Mama sad.”

Your breath caught in your throat at her words, “I know,” You murmured softly, your fingers gently running through her soft curls, “It’s just… You wouldn’t really understand it, Buddy. It’s complicated.”

Buddy nuzzled closer, the rhythmic sound of your heartbeat soothing her, but words still echoed in your mind. You didn’t want to upset anyone, least of all your favourite little buddy, “I don’t want to ever upset you, Buddy. Do you forgive me?” You asked, your voice filled with hope.

“I forgive ‘ou, Monkey,” Buddy replied softly, her tiny arms wrapping around you in a forgiving embrace, “Ou’ have to be nice to Mama too!”

You couldn’t help but smile at her innocence, though her words stung a little, “Yeah, I’ll try, Bud,” You murmured, gently rocking her as you stared out into the dimly lit room, “Things are just a bit tricky at the minute for me to do that, but I’ll try.”

It was easier said than done and you know there’s still a long way to go before you are willing to accept the apology any time soon, but at least Buddy seemed satisfied enough with your answer as her little hand gripped your shirt and continued to rest her head against your chest.

“I love you, Buddy,” You whispered, pressing another soft kiss to the top of her head, “You’re the best little sister I could ever wish for.” 

The comfort of your embrace lulling Buddy to sleep in your arms, her breath slow and steady against you and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift, feeling the connection that only you two shared.

What you didn’t realise was that Jordan had overheard the entire conversation through the baby monitor that you forgot was still in Buddy’s bedroom. Her heart melted at the tender conversation between you and Buddy, and although she understood that you were seriously upset with her, it left her with some hope that just maybe, things between you both would be okay eventually one day.

You hadn’t expected to wake up in a panic like you did, you felt as if your heart was racing and your breath was quickened. Looking around the dimly lit, unfamiliar room, your surroundings felt too large, too cold and you didn’t like it at all.

Disorientated, you threw your duvet off you as it felt like you needed to escape from it.

Of course you had another nightmare, typically, it was about both of your biological parents this time round. You guess your mum leaving you had been on your mind lately, overshadowing Jordan’s absence in your life now, it brought up a whole lot of unwanted feelings, all over again.

Making your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, you succeed with that task until you take a misstep, tripping over one of Blu’s toys in the process and go flying, the glass falling out of your hands and smashing into pieces on the floor.

“Monkey?” Jordan’s voice spoke softly, appearing in the kitchen as her concern was evident, “It’s late. What’re you doin’ up at this time?”

Standing there frozen in the kitchen staring at the shattered glass on the floor until the woman’s voice broke you out of your trance, “Uh, I… I just wanted to grab a glass of water. I tripped over Blu’s toy and it fell out of my hands,” You admitted, looking around to spot the dustpan and brush, “I’ll clean it up now.”

Jordan shook her head in disagreement and was careful to not step directly in the glass, “Careful, you’ll get glass in your feet,” She told you, moving to grab the dustpan and brush out of the cupboard where it’s kept, “Stay there and let me sweep it up, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry!” The tired state you were in overshadowed the anger you felt towards the older woman, immediately apologetic for what had happened due to past childhood trauma.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s just a glass,” Jordan reassured you, finishing sweeping up the broken glass and dumping it in the bin, “Do you want me to get you another drink?” She questioned, turning to look at you.

“No it’s okay, I… I’m just gonna go back to bed,” You murmured, shaking your head and turning in the direction to head back down the hallway to your bedroom without another word.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jordan’s words made you snap your head back around and glare at her, “Was that the reason that you’re awake?”

“No,” You growled at her, not wanting to talk about things as you started to wake up  and were more aware of the conversation you were having with the woman.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jordan offered you, evident concern in her voice.

“No, not with you I don’t,” You snapped, continuing to scowl at her, “You… You abandoned me as well when things got tough!”

Jordan frowned and shook her head, “Monkey, I haven’t abandoned you. I’m still here,” She paused, “I know it’s hard to understand that, but look, I’m still here, even if it might not seem like it right now.”

“Yes you did!” You shouted, pointing your index finger directly at her, “Yes you did!” You repeated.

“Hey, please keep your voice down,” Jordan reminded you, her tone gentle but still firm, “Buddy’s asleep, remember? I don’t want you waking her up.”

You couldn’t help scoffing and rolling your eyes, “Oh of course you only care about that.”

“I care about you too, little one–” Jordan began to tell you.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore, you left me!” You interjected, your voice a bit louder than you realised it was.

“I’m still here, Monkey,” Jordan murmured, trying to get through to you.

“No you’re not!” You exclaimed, shaking your head in disagreement, “You left, you’re just… you’re just like them!”

“Monkey–” Jordan began to speak in a calm tone of voice.

“Mama,” The conversation was broken up by Buddy waking up, making her upset well known.

Jordan exhaled a sigh, “I’m going to take care of Buddy and try to get her back to sleep,” She paused, running her hands through her hair, “Try and get some sleep, kid. Just know I’ll always be here for you,” With that, she walked past you to head into Buddy’s room and you are once again left feeling bad for waking up your favourite little buddy.

Could you really ever forgive her for just abandoning you in the way she did?

Right now, it really didn’t seem possible for that to happen at all, but maybe time will tell eventually.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[luciferzstar]

I love designing dumb met gala outfits for characters and I mean Malleus fits the theme so well I had to draw one. It's not the best outfit but I guess I'll explain it below lol.

So the theme for this met gala was sleeping beauties: reawakening fashion and with the sub-themes of land, sea and sky. There's also ties to the short story 'The Garden Of Time' in which a time-reversing flower's petals are plucked to keep a tranquil villa safe until it ends up crumbling and covered in thorns (book 7 moment...). The important element of the outfit is the wings, and since he's a prince, I chose a monarch butterfly. Butterflies are fragile and short-lived, but the monarch butterfly is the only one that migrates, which in a way is like fleeing from the effects of time to preserve themselves. They are still fragile and hence I added a broken wing though a spider has built its web in it keeping the cycle of life and death going. His clothes are tattered to represent the idea of royalty succumbing to the effects of time and ending up the same way as a commoner. There's an hourglass in his hand, but the sand never falls. Rings on his finger with red crystal beads representing blood that is suspended in time. Pocket watches are often used in hypnosis, a sleep-like trance controlled at the hands of the one holding the watch and so I gave him one as an earring. And lastly, the thorns and the thorn ribcage. A ribcage is meant to protect vital organs, but with thorns it still protects but ends up hurting the owner of it in return...

Idk if that made sense I'm sure no one read this 💀

Pose base from: https://etatsu.work/illustration-idea/trace-material-standing-man_part2/

[shripscapi]

Recently cleaned up some oc portraits so that I could update their lore post for the few people that are interested <3 I'll give the same disclaimer as before that I'm not a master worldbuilder or even a very good writer tbh. these are just my dolls I play with for fun.

anyways long post ahead here is your introductory guide to the characters of fitaly (fake italy) a fictional duchy set in the early 16th century.

Antonia de' Farona Antonia is the eldest child of the Duke Niccolò de' Farona. Though they interact infrequently, she has a wretched relationship with Andrea Bernardi, her sister's betrothed. She finds him dismissive and condescending and is suspicious of his behavior around her maid, Lucia. When she is wed, she brings Lucia with her to her husband's villa. The marriage lasts roughly 5 years until her husband passes (I haven't worked out from what yet, but it's not particularly integral to the story.) Seeing as they have no children, her husband's family contests her right to retain his properties and she returns to her father's palazzo, Lucia in tow. She is largely reclusive as a widow and prefers to remain in her apartments, despite having more relative freedom than her sisters. She sees Andrea as undeserving of her father's affection and believes that had she not had the "misfortune" to be born a woman it would be her in his place, and truly loathes him after her return. Despite this, there is a brief attempt by her father to offer her hand in marriage to Andrea after the death of Isabella, but she wholly refuses and begins spreading nasty (but not entirely untrue, nor undeserved) rumors about Andrea throughout court to deter further pursuits.

Isabella de' Farona Second child to the Duke Niccolò. She has been betrothed to Andrea Bernardi since they were both children. She finds him less objectionable than her sister Antonia does, but she is certainly not enamored with him. Isabella is a vivacious and charming girl, though Andrea seems entirely immune to her charms. She dies abruptly at the age of 16 (allegedly after suffering an acute illness, but circumstances are suspect) before she and Andrea are ever wed.

Maddelena de' Farona Maddalena is the Duke's third daughter, and she's rather meek but sweet. She's not particularly pivotal to the story, but it IS important to note that she too has already been betrothed, hence why Marietta had to resort to trying to marry Andrea to her widowed sister.

Paulo de' Farona Paulo is also not particularly relevant, but he's currently the Duke's only surviving male heir (thus far), so he's very doted on.

Lorenzo de' Bassani Administrator in the court of Duke Niccolò de' Farona. Lorenzo was instrumental in arranging a marriage between his young nephew Andrea and Isabella de' Farona with the intent that they would wed when they reached maturity. He hosts Andrea more and more frequently as he gets older, and secures him secretarial work at court.

Andrea Bernardi Andrea was betrothed to Isabella as a child as a means of satisfying his mother's political aspirations. Andrea is educated and ambitious but somewhat dour for his age. He leaves his family's villa to seek employment at court when he's 16, which he secures with the help of his uncle Lorenzo. He coerces Antonia's maid, Lucia, whom he is infatuated with into entering a relationship with him while at court, but shortly thereafter Antonia is wed and takes Lucia with her. During this time, he is taken under the wing of Duke Niccolò, who sees his younger self in Andrea's ambition. Several years later, when Lucia returns to the palazzo after the death of Antonia’s husband, he resumes their relationship while Antonia grows even more resentful of him. Isabelle dies before she and Andrea can fulfill the marriage contract. He is in no hurry to find a new match, but his mother immediately proposes that he marry the Duke's eldest, widowed daughter. Niccolò is inclined to agree, but Antonia causes such a fuss about the matter that it's quickly abandoned. Andrea leaves court abruptly, and takes Lucia with him, much to Antonia's dismay. Meanwhile, his mother secures the daughter of a Spanish ambassador to be his wife. The two have a very brief betrothal period before they're wed and Ysabel goes to live with him away from the eyes at court.

Ysabel de Torres y Mendoza Ysabel is the daughter of a Spanish ambassador and overall a very reserved girl. She finds herself somewhat isolated outside of Spain. Initially, she is tentatively pleased by her marriage to Andrea— she assumes he is keeping a respectful distance to allow her to acclimate— but it becomes clear over time that he is genuinely disinterested in her, and she has to fight for any semblance of affection from him. He makes no secret of Lucia as their marriage progresses, and young Ysabel chooses to make Lucia the object of her loathing rather than confront her unfaithful husband. Overall, it is an unhappy marriage from the outset. Despite this, she and Andrea eventually have children together, whom he is similarly uninterested in, except for their son.

Lucia Lucia is my favorite oc I will not even pretend to be unbiased... She is Antonia's servant and a notorious flirt and gossip. Though several years older than Andrea, she unwittingly gets his attention and is pressured into a relationship with him when he first arrives at court. Having been humiliated by the discovery that her former lover was already married with a wife and children at home, she found Andrea's overwhelming attentions a consolation for her wounded ego and a refreshing change of pace. However, by the time of Antonia's marriage, she's grown restless and is ready to leave Andrea's immature behavior behind. During her years away, she takes another lover (with some unexpected complications) but once again leaves him behind when she and Antonia return to the palazzo. Upon her return, she is surprised to find that Andrea even remembers her— even more so that he again pursues her— but she believes he's matured and acquiesces to further relations with him. After Isabella's death and the disastrous marriage negotiations with Antonia, Andrea offers to offers to take Lucia with him away from the palazzo. She accepts, and briefly experiences a honeymoon period where he freely showers her with affection away from prying eyes. Unfortunately, the arrival of his new wife complicates matters, and tensions begin to escalate as Andrea fails to satisfy the wants and needs of both his wife and mistress all under the same roof.

Bartolomea Lucia's mother (and only known relative) and also a palazzo servant. She claims that Lucia's father was a craftsman who died shortly before Lucia's birth, forcing Bartolomea to find work in the palazzo to support herself and the expected child. The story about her father is 100% not true, but Lucia believes it. Neither she nor her daughter are literate.

I think that’s all for now.. it is hard for me to figure out how to introduce them bc I have a lot of lore backlogged but hopefully everything here makes sense <3

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 1,000 FOLLOWERS! That's absolutely wonderful! You deserve it.

1.) T. "I see you. I know you're watching me." // 2.) 🕶 Mafia AU // 3.) Writer's choice! Go wherever the muse takes you. // 4.) 📚 Book

Thank you so much! ❤️ Hitman Eddie and mob baby Steve are rapidly taking over my brain, so here's some more of them!

Poisoned honey

Rated: M

Words: 995

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Richard Harrington; Blood and violence; Obsessive behavior; stalking; flirting; sexual tension

Notes: Part 1 | Part 2

The boss is in one of his moods. 

Eddie endures the screaming with a stoic face - or as stoic as one can manage with a split lip and one eye swelling shut - and thinks to himself what a fucking joke it is. If anyone has a right to be mad, it's him. 

The intel he got on the job was all wrong. The target arrived with backup, turning what was supposed to be a quick, clean affair into a bloodbath. Eddie still finished the job, of course. But the goods he was supposed to secure got destroyed in the fight, losing the boss a ton of money. Hence the yelling. And the name-calling. And the throwing things. 

Eddie sidesteps the whisky tumbler that's hurled his way. It hits the wall, but he can feel the shards catch in his hair as it shatters into a million pieces. Jesus Christ. On days like this, he almost regrets getting into this. 

Almost. 

It's not easy, working his way into Richard Harrington’s inner circle. In the beginning, the asshole wasn't even aware Eddie existed. And even now that Eddie has his attention, he's still far from gaining his trust. 

Eddie gets it, though. You don't become a mob boss by blindly trusting anyone. 

And so Eddie has been biding his time, slowly weaseling his way into the group of Harrington's most loyal hitmen. The better part of a year passed before the boss even deemed him worthy of entering his office, but that’s okay. Every job brings him a little closer to his goal, and every time he sets foot into Harrington's villa is another occasion to catch a glimpse of the prize he's got his eyes on.

*

It's getting dark by the time he's dismissed. He should go home to lick his wounds, but the patio doors are open, and the rippling light and the scent of the hydrangea bushes lure him in. The night is warm, and with a bit of luck, his little nymph will be out by the water. 

He's in one of the lounge chairs, hair wet and tousled, body draped into a robe against the breeze. The underwater lights illuminate his features. He has a book in his lap, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. Eddie stays in his hiding spot for a long while, watching graceful fingers leaf through the pages, watching pink lips part around inaudible words, and gets lost in his favorite fantasies. 

Biting and sucking at those lips until they're plump and shiny, drawing the most beautiful pleas and moans from them. Maybe he'd leave those hands free, or maybe he'd tie them up, just to watch his little nymph struggle. Just to feel him squirm while Eddie covers that soft, tan skin in marks, leaving the traces of his ownership for everyone to behold. 

“I see you. I know you're watching me.” 

Eddie is so far gone in his own head, it takes him a moment to process that the words were directed at him. It takes even longer for him to realize who the voice belongs to. 

The boy has marked his page and is looking straight at his hiding spot, lips curled into a smile.

“Why don't you come out and introduce yourself? It would only be polite.” 

Soft hair falls into hazel eyes as the boy cocks his head. He looks so sweet, but Eddie knows that looks can be deceiving. He sees the coy glint in those eyes, sees the sharp edge to that smile. Knows that this is his last chance. He can turn away and save himself, or he can follow his little nymph's call and let himself be pulled into the depths. 

Those eyes sparkle with satisfaction as he steps out of his hiding spot. Not waiting for an invitation, Eddie sinks down into the empty deck chair beside the boy's, lighting a cigarette and taking a pull. 

“Eddie Munson,” he drawls and extends his right hand. “My pleasure.” 

The boy quirks an eyebrow before reaching out - only instead of accepting the handshake, he snatches the cigarette from Eddie’s lips. His fingers brush the cut and it burns like gasoline. 

“Steve. You know my last name, obviously.” Those perfect lips part to exhale a plume of smoke, hazel eyes assessing every inch of  Eddie’s appearance. “What happened to your face?” 

“Work accident,” Eddie shrugs. “Fell down some stairs.” 

Steve huffs a laugh, a curt and cruel thing. “Yeah, right. You think I'm stupid? I know you’re one of my father’s dogs.” 

Eddie feels his temper flare, snide reply already at the tip of his tongue. How he’s not a dog, doesn’t answer to any master. 

Except, that isn’t true, is it? 

He’d happily kill for this boy, would beg and crawl and debase himself. Has been doing exactly that, every day, for almost a year. 

Steve smiles, sweet like poisoned honey, and takes another lazy drag of the stolen cigarette. 

“You guys are all the same, huh? You think you’re so tough, so dangerous, but as soon as my dad tugs on your leash, you slink off with your tail between your legs. Pathetic.” 

Eddie is nothing if not fast. With one quick movement, he has snatched the boy's wrist and pulled the cigarette back to his own mouth. He takes a long drag, pressing his lips against the soft skin of those fingers. When he pulls away, he makes sure to graze his teeth over Steve’s knuckles. Those hazel eyes are huge, pupils deep and fuzzy, as they watch him stand. 

“You like leashes, little nymph? Good. Hold on to that thought.” 

Nothing has ever been harder than turning his back and walking away, but somehow he does it. Eddie prides himself in being good at his job, and much like his job, this is all about playing his cards right. 

He intends to win, in the end. 

He always does. 

Part 4

More celebration ficlets

[versacherries]

"the garden of time", met gala theme explained

Inspired by a short story written by J.G. Ballard in 1962, a story set in the XIX century about a count and countess who live in a large beautiful villa full of flowers, where everyday they can see an army or 'mob' approaching their villa from the safety of their balcony. Each evening as the army grows closer, the count plucks a flower from their garden made of crystals, which in turn, pushes the mob back. We discover that the crystal flowers reverse space and time. But they only have a few left in the garden. The outcome of the story becomes inevitable, hence why the story is often seen as a metaphor for evolution and the endless cycle of creation and destruction. One night they run out of flowers, and they're faced with the mob entering their villa. As the villa is being ambushed, we find out there's two stone figures resembling the count and countess, hidden by a large bush full of thorns and roses, that go untouched by water, fire, air, and people around, and seemingly remain there through space and time.

Also known as "sleeping beauties; reawakening fashion", 2024's met gala theme is not to be confused with disney princesses, or a garden tea party (thought I could see the majority of attendees being literal about it).

2024's met gala theme is about garments that have been used and preserved over time. Just like in the story, fashion historians have tried to fight back time, people, and natural elements to preserve the fabric of such pieces. I can see thierry mugler's 1982 and saint laurent's ss1999 collection being present.

We can expect to see iconic gowns from fashion history that are too fragile to be worn again. "Sleeping Beauties", garments that have remained untouched since they were last worn. Lots of vintage pieces, archive pulls, and sustainability all around.

moschino ss18

While I expect to see pieces related to the natural elements, we can't ignore the darker side of the book. I can see some guests taking a darker route and alluring to the inevitable doom that is time. They could reference hollywood's obsession with beauty and how time takes it away from you. Or they could go as far as referencing the current state of the world and how human destruction is inevitable. I could see a lot of the newer Maison Margiela collections, or archive pulls from Alexander Mcqueen, as he tends to relate nature with more obscure themes.

Needless to say, I'm excited for tomorrow's gala. Could be one for the books.

for reference:

haute le mode yt video

theitcouture on twitter

artisanal ss24 maison margiela

harper's bazar article

[depravitymoon]

Does the Yandere la squadra have room preferences for the darling post kidnapping?

This is the oldest ask sitting in my inbox and today’s the day I answer it. Right now, I’m gonna be honest. Part of the reason this sat in my inbox for so long is because I was trying to figure out the question. Hence, I’m going to try to guess what it’s asking. 

The questions I’m gonna be asking myself:

What are the general house rules post-kidnapping?

Would your yandere even give you a room?

Would your yandere change their own room for you?

And just to make this simple: This is an Everyone Lives AU where Giorno is Don and actually increased La Squadra's pay by 1000%. La Squadra are roommates in a big ass villa, so it feels like live in through own private apartment complex... but richer. lol

(Some of the pictures of rooms come from here.)

(Warning: Other than yandere, kidnapping, and implied forced labor, Melone also wants kids with you.))

RIsotto Nero

Risotto’s rules:

Don’t get sassy with him.

Do what he says.

Do not attempt to run away from him.

If he is not there, then have Pesci or Prosciutto guide you.

Would your yandere even give you a room? NO.

Risotto isn’t as fucked up as some of his teammates, but he likes having control of you. Also, it’s easier to intimidate you when he’s always so close to you (and is a giant). Having your own room might make you feel too comfortable disobeying him and he refuses to let you think that’s an option.

Would your yandere change their own room for you? Yes. You behave and he’s willing to even make the room look like Enid and Wednesday’s. 

Prosciutto

Prosciutto’s rules:

Be a good housewife.

Cook the meals.

Clean the ‘house’.

Run errands with Pesci.

Don’t sass him.

Greet him when he gets home.

Would your yandere even give you a room?  HAHAHAHAHA, NO. You’re funny.  You two are married and married couples sleep together.  Also, you’re in charge of cleaning, do you really want your own room to clean in addition of his room and Pesci’s.

Would your yandere change their own room for you? He will negotiate with you. Have you been a good wife? Have you been completing the chores? What are you willing to give in return to drastically change his room for you? 

Sidenote 01: Prosciutto gets the biggest room because Risotto didn't care to get the Master bedroom. 

Sidenote 02: Proscuitto just wants you taking care of his portion of the villa. If you're being annoying, he'll force you to clean of Pesci's portion (but Pesci's nice enough to help you with your cleaning).

Pesci

Pesci’s rules:

Be polite to Risotto.

Listen to what big brother says.

If big bro gets handsy on you, look for Pesci.

Avoid the others except Ghiaccio.

Stay away from Ghiaccio when he’s mad. Don’t walk, RUN.

Would your yandere even give you a room? Pesci would never force you to stay in his room unless he actually thought you were in danger. At worse, he'd manipulate you into staying with him. If La Squadra has room (no pun intended) you can have your own room.

Would he change his room for you? Absolutely! He just wants you comfortable! Hell, you can have half of his room AND your own room. 

Melone

Melone’s Rules:

Be a good parent to his future offspring.

Don’t ask for anything unless you’re willing to do some Not Safe For Work activities for it.

At least pretend you're happy to see Melone once in awhile, especially around bambino!

Would your yandere even give you a room? Honestly, yes. He did kidnap you to force you to have his future children. The least he can do is accommodate you.

He'll only let you roam the villa if he believes you'll behave. The moment you try leaving is the moment you're literally chained to his bedroom and has to have Pesci follow you around when Melone can't.  Yes, he knows you're mad that he plans to baby trap you. At least you'll be a rich mom, not a pauper with 'freedom'.

Would he change his room for you?  No. If anything, he’d probably make your room also your future baby’s room too, which would force you to come to his room for some peace and quiet.

Ghiaccio

((Author's Note: Let's pretend that the floor is an all white carpet. Apparently, most people know better than to have white carpet.))

Ghiaccio’s Rule:

DO NOT stain his room.

DO NOT yell at him.

DO NOT talk to the other members unless it’s an emergency.

DO NOT be alone with Melone.

DONT. STAIN. ANYTHING.

You may be asking "Why would you have a white room? Why not just let me go if you dont want a stained room-" SHUT UP AND DONT SASS HIM.

Would your yandere even give you a room?  Depending on if you two are own good terms, he might let you stay in the tinier room right next to his. Just behave. Your room has no bed, because he'll be forcing you to sleep in his bed with him. You're the most likely darling to be allowed to roam the villa, but you can't go outside. 

Would he change his room for you?  No, which is why you get your own room if you behave. 

Illuso

Illuso's rules:

Do as he says.

Do as he says.

Do as he says.

Do as he says.

Oh, he keeps you in the mirror world with food all day when he's not with you. Rights? lol Silly darling, you have no rights.

Everything you have is solely due to his desires. While Risotto's darling spends 90% of the time in his room, Illuso's darling spends 99.99% of the time in Illuso's room and the mirror world.

Formaggio

Doesn’t need rules because he can just shrink you down when he wants.

I imagine the only thing that stands out about Formaggio's room is that it's filled with a dollhouse, dolls, pet cages, and a hamster ball. Why all of that? So he can entertain himself messing with you. 

There is more than enough room for you to be in Formaggio's room. And he doesn't want to break you like Illuso would. Formaggio just likes bullying you, but he does want you functioning like a human being. Having a person he can actually converse with is better han some doll that obeys him, gross. 

Obviously, you wont get your own room, but he will customize your dollhouse room if you behave! Oh and he does like you room the mansion. Keep in mind if you ever try to flee, that privilege is revoked forever.

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Surrounding Characters: Mr. Raymond

Age: 39

Status: Deceased

Cause of Death: Unknown

Occupation: Renowned art collector

Residence: Three-story mansion in Linkon City's southeastern suburbs

Appearance: Based on his silhouette, he likely has scraggly hair and some amount of facial hair on his chin?

Details:

We meet Mr. Raymond on the protaganist's very first mission (Mission HM- U-0048-3015). En route, she finds Zayne on the side of the road with his broken-down car. She gives him a lift to Raymond's residence and learns Mr. Raymond is one of Zayne's former patients.

The mission details mention a person named Henry, who is one of the Hunter's Association's clients. They also note that Mr. Raymond is Henry's employer.

During her Wanderer inspection, the protaganist detects Metaflux and follows the Resonance Trail to the collection room. There, she finds Mr. Raymond is lying unconscious on the floor.

After the Wanderer is dealt with, the protaganist notices a Metaflux-infused painting that causes hallucinations. They reasoned it could be where the Wanderer had been hiding and the reason why Mr. Raymond had been acting so strange.

Mr. Raymond is still unconscious when the helicopter arrives and Zayne accompanies him to the hospital. The protagonist then reports the painting to HQ as needing special treatment.

Key Details:

Mr. Raymond had a serious congenital heart disease, hence Zayne's medical visit.

Zayne mentions that, based on the improvement of his vital signs, Akso's equipment determined his age to be "far younger than what it actually is"

Seems to have some connection to Xander Sciences, since the protaganist overhears him trying to convince to Zayne to work for them.

The painting in question was made by Rafayel and was sold by Flux Arts.

Mr. Raymond's Mansion:

Built near the sea and mountains, the southeastern suburbs of Linkon City are home to various luxurious villas and holiday resorts. The entrance to his mansion has an ornate iron gate. Architecturally, his three-story mansion has a style of modern design and simplicity.

Courtyard:

The exterior courtyard (left) is surrounded by a large pool (right) and the water's surface covered in blue-green algae.

First Floor:

The central feature of the first floor (below) is a large fish tank containing what appears to be a Lemurian skeleton. It is surrounded by a spiral staircase to the next floor. The room also includes a sofa set and a grand piano.

Second Floor:

(We don't get any images or description of the second floor)

Third Floor:

This floor is where his art collection room (below) is located. One of his collected items is a painting by Rafayel.

Murder Details:

The case of his murder is currently unsolved and has little known information to work with. But, through multiple accounts from other characters, I've gathered the following information.

Zayne's Statements:

When Zayne calls for medical backup, he mentions the following:

"Male, 39 years old, he collapsed from shock because a Wanderer appeared five minutes ago. No external injuries. His heart rate is normal, and his pupils react normally to light,... The address is..."

Rafayel's Statements:

When the protaganist visits Flux Arts, a digital version of the painting Mr. Raymond bought was displayed in the original's place. Rafayel's disembodied voice says the following regarding the painting:

The story behind it was a dream he'd had in childhood. In it, he had turned into a fish and swam in search of a place beyond the water's surface.

But despite his efforts, he only ended up in blood-red seawater.

That dream was the first time he'd ever seen such a color and he spent many of the following years trying to recreate it. But he never really could get that same shade of red. It was always a slightly different hue.

Thomas' Statements:

When the protaganist tells Thomas what happened to Mr. Raymond and mentions a connection to the painting, his face turns pales before he quickly regains composure. He mentions the following about Mr. Raymond:

Was a renowned art collector famous for his discerning taste

He visited Flux Arts last month, was utterly smitten with the painting, and needed to buy it.

During the process of arranging, displaying, and selling the painting, more than a dozen people were in contact with it. None of them mentioned anything about a Wanderer.

Notes that Rafayel mentioned often hearing strange noises in the studio late at night, but Thomas thought he was trying to trick him.

When the protaganist detects Metaflux from the coral stones in the Flux Arts office, Thomas says Rafayel uses them to make his paint.

Joe's Statements:

Joe is a reporter from Weekly Art who was following Rafayel in hopes of getting a scoop for a future article. He mentions the following about Mr. Raymond's case:

Mr. Raymond had drowned in his bathtub

Was found by his butler Herman. But by then, it was too late.

Before he died, Mr. Raymond had made a bunch of cuts into his arms and legs that resembled "a bunch of fish scales"

[absolutefilthimsosorry]

Spoilers for DnP Incohearent!!!!

I’m having so much fun trying to solve these that I made a list to keep track! Message if you can help me fill in any I’m missing or if I’ve got any wrong!!!

Also lmk if you see any I’ve missed!! I’m going to keep updating this and have it unrebloggable but you can reblog this post to have a link to it!

These are all gathered from this post and this post so check the notes on those first to try to solve them then look here if you need answers!

Sow march cheer ray = so much cherry

Wee nay urn for uke oye yer tub = we’ve never fucked on youtube?

Ta fold in fig = the golden pig

Feed hay hid eho = vday video

Tat he won ape hit morse him he = daddy want a bit more simmy

Watt ken ice hay = what can I say

North key bus teabag king = naughty busty baking

Fool tie enter nit hobo / fall tie mint her nepo moe / fault aye mint earn are ohm owe/ foul thyme inch hermit hole mold = full time internet homo

Cumin mile aid deed or = come in my ladydoor

Hum hay zinc tan = amazingdan

Elven ower fug sedge own = eleven hour fuck session

An berry moth ribeye adam stir = and every month we buy a hamster

March rest array = Manchester eye

Cyst herding yell = sister daniel

Add a ding teps = editing tips

Cop dubai khaki luna = topped by kakuna

Late eat tore = ladydoor

Half tugger etch two eggs cyst = have the courage to exist

Perish she end wink = Parisian twink

Coal ten big/ goal then pick = golden pig

Cyst ordain yell = sister daniel

Train youth inks = try new things

Gay mean moss/ gain ink mass = gamingmas

Soften need = soft and neat

A wools lied = owl slide

Topper bought them hill = top or bottom Phil

Coat fit firenze = golf with friends???

Few ours pig meow fits = viewers pick my outfits

Read less tar = red lester

Eye eight soup igloo = I ate super glue

Insight youth era too walls = inside you there are two wolves

Mine amy stan = my name is Dan

Clap hella = glabella

Hiss teeth rent = hits different

Eel eyes apron kay kiss = Eliza pancakes

See pram haze ink bra jet = super amazing project

Feels lie yawn = phils lion

Fuel ease snot dawn fair = Phil is not on fire

Jaw shush ear son = josh hutcherson

Ball bull him tour food = bauble in your foot?

Sure eck = shrek

High ate dust = hiatus

Add a dink deps = editing tips

Ga hay shoom air age = gay shoe marriage

Pope eat plate aim = poppy playtime

Eat aches stu = it takes two

Goo gal few ed = google feud

Baze ick lee eye meg ay = basically I’m gay

Ko min yout ti ew = coming out to you

Ender knit subvert grew oop = internet support group

Phylis turn yar a sheen yes = PHIL LESTER YOU’RE A GENIUS

With Audi intern yet wean ed brr wood halve mat = without the internet we never would have met

Gum ban yins drool I’ve = companions through life

Reed sons wide answer flail = reasons why dans a fail

Ewan dam ah some are reed = you and Dan are so married

Denver sis fill/ Denver cis full = Dan vs Phil

Or lawn huffing = all or nothing

Dunk rye core raft = don’t cry craft

Mortal jester roam and thick/ Morph adjust row antic = more than just romantic

So wall how debris poll light = swallow to be polite???

Oar hinge art = orange heart

Foray virgo em = forever home

Chai reel loop/ share real oob = cherry lube

Cad boyd anne = cat boy dan

Far turf ill lip = father philip

Tess lit hen ink = the slittening

Forth house indie rolled or touches = four thousand year old tortoises

Hey moth swish roundup floating = a month without uploading

Jam march let pet tea an farms = Je mange les petit enfants

Day lion howl tour = Dalien Howlter

Ima let all kit = I’m a little kit

Feel pearl lays shell ter = Phil plays shelter

Fewer blue key app ending = viewer spooky happenings

Hell low iam tour reel = hello I am Toriel

Laugh tuh gey mile kuh = left to get milk

Villas eek wreck why vuh = Phil’s secret wife

Footy strain gin said dent = ___ strange incident????

Snow core play sum = snokoplasm

Nope puts cereal sleeping mage innit = no but seriously imagine it

Tear rip pulling flu hence = terrible influence

Jeff why eye aisle hike vague liner = fyi I like vagina

Eggs intense all cry cis = existential crisis

List of contributors

@fletthewreck @dandp @deadandphilgames @manchesterau @thephouseplants @awrfhi @jonsaremembers @rachosaurusrex @dapgolf @dan-whoell @dnphobe @dreamingalto @steveandscraggy @phanbeats @danandfuckingjonlmao @pepper-pastry @yonpote @un-interactive-introvert @spaniel-trowel @sisterdanieldyke @queerdnp @morganadelacour @amid-fandoms @spectral-kitkat @goingpheral @angelzonearth @wdapteo @2009phan @dansevilpianotea

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Moisturize ASMR translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an ASMR that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

[IMPORTANT]

⚠️ NSFW WARNING! The content of this ASMR is VERY VIVIDLY EXPLICIT and NOT suitable for individuals under the age of 18. It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

I can't upload this on YouTube because YouTube deemed it as too explicit. So I upload the full version on Twitter AND Google Drive. Below the cut is only the transcript.

Google Drive link [ here ]

Twitter link [ here ]

OKAY SO before we start I want to mention some things:

This ASMR is from a CHINESE GAME, and as you know the censorship here is heavy, so explicit content relies on our imagination. The 🔞 elements need to be cleverly disguised; and in this ASMR they use… playing with slime. "Yes officer, they're just playing with slime. What zipper sound? It's from his coat." 🤪

But you can BET those noises aren't slimes (at least during the second half). It's heavily hinted that they gave each other's private parts 👅💦. Hence the ASMR name "水润”/”Moisturize”, which can convey the idea of something being moistened by """"water"""". What else is getting moistened right here except you-know-what 👀

✄----------------------

[ASMR - Moisturize Transcript]

[ sound of Lucien typing the password of the villa and then opens the door ]

[ Lucien sighs and chuckles ]

Once inside,

I can feel the temperature difference of nearly twenty degrees between indoors and outdoors.

Can you hand me my coat?

[ rustling noises as MC hands over his coat ]

Hmm?

It seems that this lady

forgot what was still in my pocket.

[ Lucien chuckles ]

Can I take it out?

[ sounds of the coat zipper as he takes out the item]

What is this?

[ chuckles ]

It seems to be a box of

glue-like stuff.

There are a few gardenia flowers on top.

Is it called 'slime'?

Indeed, it's quite vivid.

Was it bought at the night market

to give to me?

Then, can you teach me

how to play with this?

[ sounds of the slime getting opened ]

[ slime noises ]

Is it played like this?

Hmm

It's very soft.

Also quite fascinating.

And, as you mentioned,

it is a toy that has been improved and is very safe to play with.

Can it be poked?

Good.

[ SUS slime noises ]

Hmm

The fingertips wrapped in softness

feel very warm.

Do you want to play together?

I'd like to share this gift with you.

After sticking to the skin…

The slime's texture

becomes slightly damp

it's also sticky and moist

[ sus slime noises in the background ]

Do you find

that this little toy

sparks any particular associations for us?

[ sus slime noises and Lucien sighs ]

[ whispers ] You can't guess?

I think,

this lady already has an answer.

It's just that….

[ Lucien stops his sentence, chuckles and kisses ]

After all,

you're blushing from cheek to ear.

Okay,

then I'll go first.

These warmth,

moistness, and softness…

...are like a certain lady's….

…palms when her body temperature rises.

[ sus slime noises ]

Hmm?

[ chuckles ]

It seems that….

My associations surprised you?

[ chuckles ]

I wasn't asking a leading question.

Now, reveal your answer

Okay?

You are embarrassed to say it…

…and want to answer it with action?

I would give full marks to this classmate for all her ways of answering.

[ rustling noises ]

[ ZIPPER NOISES as she unzips his pants 🤪]

[ Lucien chuckles, then gasps and breathes heavily as she touches his d- ]

[ whispers hoarsely ] I didn't expect….

such a straightforward answer.

So,

this is the thought that makes this lady blush.

I rather feel that

those (slime) sounds are quite different from the noises we usually hear.

[ Lucien moans as he leads her to take him into her mouth ]

For example…

[ SUS RHYTHMICAL AND WET NOISES AS SHE SUCKS HIS D- ]

[ breathlessly ] This sound would be more similar

isn't it?

[ rhythmical and wet noises continue in the background, rattling noises as Lucien possibly begins to put the lid of the slimes + Lucien gasps and chuckles ]

I always feel that

the little toy on the table is not as fun anymore.

[ breathlessly whispers ] Of course, I like it.

[ breathlessly ] It's just that….

To the lady who gives me this gift….

[ Lucien gasps and then breathlessly whispers ] I’d rather express my gratitude…

[ the rhythmical and wet noises gradually stop ]

[ …i-is he shooting ropes- ]

[ Lucien steadies his breath ]

[ in a much calmer tone after he blows off his load ] …Probably due to the significant temperature difference between indoors and outdoors,

the glue in the composition starts to dissolve away.

It gets a bit sticky.

Or perhaps I poked too fast.

and ended up breaking this small teaching toy.

(T/N: lol here goes our 'cover story' 🤪. Officer, those sounds are TOTALLY from playing with slimes. Huh, 'Why does it make him breathless'? He just gets excited when teaching her, that's all 😋 )

[rustling noises]

Next time, after you buy one,

you can give it to me first.

I'll keep it safe.

[Lucien shuts the lid of the slimes]

To make up for this time,

What's next…

Is it time to move on to the practical part of the lesson?

(T/N: a.k.a the actual sex instead of just foreplay-)

I wonder if this classmate

is willing to 'assist' me?

[ rustling noises as he puts her on a surface ]

[ kissing noises as he kisses her in ✨places✨ ]

I really like your 'answers'.

They make it hard for me…

...to think straight.

[ more kissing noises as he moves lower and lower -]

Now,

let me repay you.

[ NOISES OF HIM EATING HER OUT. It's only right to repay oral with another oral- and she needs to be 'moisturized' before accepting him right- ]

I will hold my happiness,

and share all of them with you.

[ more noises of him eating her out as the sounds gradually fade- ]

[fibula-rasa]

Cosplay the Classics: Natacha Rambova

My closet cosplay of Natacha Rambova’s signature look from the 1920s

It’s unbearably common for people who have written  about Natacha Rambova to emphasize that her “real” name was “Winifred Hudnut.” In reality, Rambova had about a half dozen names she went by (or could have gone by). Natacha Rambova was the name she took when she began her working life as a teenager with Theodore Kosloff’s ballet company—hence the Russophone name. And, as Rambova was a person who first and foremost lived to work, sticking with her professional name seems true to her character, Slav or not. You see, the primary reason Rambova was (and is) subjected to this passive-aggressiveness is part of a lingering effort to delegitimize her and her work. Sometimes that takes the form of calling her Winifred Hudnut and sometimes “Mrs. Valentino.” While there are valid reasons to criticize Rambova and her work, the aspersions typically lobbed at her fully miss their mark because they’re motivated by the desire to belittle a woman who knew the value of her work and her art and had the necessary privilege to fight for it.

"Natacha Rambova seems to belong most to me, the individual I think I am, but of course, I wasn’t born that way."

—“Wedded and Parted” by Ruth Waterbury, Photoplay, December 1922

Collage of portraits of Rambova from the 1920s

READ ON below the JUMP!

To begin at the beginning, Rambova was born as Winifred “Wink” Shaughnessy in Utah in 1897. Her father, who was significantly older than her mother, was found lacking as a parent and a spouse, and the Shaughnessy’s divorced when Rambova was young. Her youth was spent bouncing between her mother’s home in San Francisco, boarding school in England, and her aunt’s villa in France. Early on Rambova discovered two of the great passions of her life, ballet and mythology. The latter became an enduring fascination that guided Rambova’s varied pursuits throughout her life.

At first, her family encouraged Rambova’s interest in ballet. However, around 1914, when Rambova was 17, the shady nature of Rambova’s relationship with Kosloff was discovered by her mother, who tried to have Kosloff deported. At the time, Kosloff was supporting a wife and child back in England while keeping house with Rambova and another of his dancers, Vera Fredova (who was also legally named Winifred and also a teenager btw). Mom called off the lawsuit, and for years Kosloff, Rambova, and Fredova ran the ballet company together.

The company relocated to Los Angeles where Kosloff entered into a contract with Cecil B. DeMille. The company would provide art and costume designs for DeMille’s films and Kosloff himself would appear in the films. While Kosloff’s name is found in the credits for most of these films, it’s now widely accepted that Rambova was doing most, if not all, of the research and design work.

Theodore Kosloff in his costume from The Woman God Forgot (1917) on the left with Rambova (who does not appear in the film)

In this creatively productive period, Rambova shifted her focus away from dance toward historical research and costume and set design as her primary endeavor. For DeMille, Rambova contributed designs for The Woman God Forgot (1917), Why Change Your Wife? (1920), Something to Think About (1920), and also designed the Cinderella fantasy sequence of Forbidden Fruit (1921).

from the Cinderella sequence of Forbidden Fruit [more gifs here]

The work caught the eye of Nazimova, who was still working at Metro at the time. Once Nazimova realized that Rambova was the one doing the work, she engaged her directly to work on her now lost film Billions (1920). Rambova would receive on-screen credit for her art direction on Nazimova’s final film for Metro, the deco-bonanza Camille (1921).

from Camille [more gifs here]

Camille features designs verging on the bizarre, using circles and half-circles as a consistent symbolic motif throughout the film. One of my personal favorite touches however, is the sequence taking place at Armand’s country cottage. Where the Paris sets are oversized and characterized by rounded edges, the cottage is excessively square and feels almost claustrophobic. At this point in the story, Marguerite is conflicted, she feels happier and freer than ever before in her love with Armand, but is also haunted by the notion that she’s dooming him given her past and her illness. The interior of the cottage feels more artificial because of its realism, almost like a doll house, in comparison to the more heavily designed Paris settings. This highlights the feeling in Marguerite that she’s just playing pretend at a happy, heteronormative fantasy.

country house setting from Camille

Influenced by the highly stylized visuals of ballet but also preoccupied with historical research and symbology, Rambova’s designs stand out from anything else produced in this period, especially in the US. The more I study her designs and think about how young she was when she created them, the more impressed I am by them. Faced with challenging assignments, Rambova balanced accuracy and perceived authenticity with her penchant for larger-than-life symbolism. On top of all that, they photograph beautifully! Being able to create interesting and appropriate costume and set designs with a demonstrated understanding of how they would register on film is a sophisticated skill set which Rambova deserves significant credit for.

When Nazimova went independent following Camille, she brought Rambova with her. The first two projects Rambova would work on for Nazimova’s company were A Doll’s House (now a lost film, which I profiled on my Lost, but Not Forgotten series) and Salomé (1922). The latter has become regarded as Nazimova’s magnum opus on film and often referred to as America’s first art film. For Salomé, Rambova translated illustrations made by Aubrey Beardsley into three-dimensional sets and costumes and character designs for film. If you’ve seen Beardsley’s illustrations and you’ve seen the film, you know this was no simple task and that Rambova did a phenomenal job of re-working the illustrations into wearable costumes and weaving elements of Beardsley’s illustrations into the set design.

from Salomé [more gifs here]

Taking a second to emphasize Rambova’s range, her work on Why Change Your Wife?, Something to Think About, and A Doll’s House (which we can only judge by surviving stills) are contemporary settings with more realistic, grounded set and costume designs. Rambova executes the designs for these films with just as much skill, although as she admitted herself, with less gusto because they didn’t scratch the historical-research/symbology itch.

production still from A Doll’s House

It was in this same period of creative growth that Rambova split from Kosloff (and he shot her in the leg on the way out) and she started seeing her future husband, Rudolph Valentino. Valentino, however, was still legally married to another woman. This would lead to significant trouble for the couple in the first few years of their relationship. 

Perhaps too much time has been spent picking apart the nature of the Valentino-Rambova pairing—most of it spent trying to characterize her as a Svengali type and Valentino as too immature or unintelligent to have any opinions of his own. Now, having read most of what Rambova has written about Valentino, both before and after their divorce, she often takes a paternalistic attitude toward Valentino, but one tempered by real affection. And, given how close Valentino became with her family (and remained close after the divorce, even leaving a significant part of his estate to her aunt), to doubt the legitimacy of their partnership feels willfully disingenuous. Valentino shared Rambova’s desires to elevate the artistic qualities of film, oftentimes beyond their means. Together they crafted the romantic idol of Valentino. Together they challenged the studios for underpaying him.

“Some producers find an unusual personality. They use up thousands of dollars to exploit it. They put that personality into a picture and the picture goes over and makes a million. Then, instead of letting the actor who does fine work go on doing it, they give him cheap material, cheap sets, cheap casts, cheap everything. The idea then is to make just as much money from that personality as possible with the least outlay. “Isn’t it short-sighted? Isn’t it unwise? Yet they do it again and again. But they can’t keep it up forever. The fans are beginning to wake up. They refuse to take second rate products even when a big personality is exploited. They are doing the one thing that will affect the producer—when poor pictures are offered them, they are staying home.”

—from “Wedded and Parted” by Ruth Waterbury, Photoplay, December 1922

Something I mentioned in the last installment of “Lost, but Not Forgotten” was that in this period,  a number of film artists in Hollywood were recognizing the true value of their work and going independent of the emergent studio system. Studio heads saw no problem in curtailing the creative freedom of their artists to further pad their overflowing wallets. For the founders of United Artists, the system was usually able to be bent in their favor, with their films getting wide releases with decent promotion budgets. For a number of other independent artists, the road was rockier as distributors and exhibitors were reluctant to offend the increasingly powerful studios. Nazimova was one of those who eventually ran out of funds to produce their own work. Valentino’s star rose precipitously after The Sheik (1921) and Blood and Sand (1922) was a massive box-office hit, but Valentino’s salary did not match that bankability. This financial dispute, complicated by negative press around his relationship with Rambova, left Valentino out of work in film for a year. In turn, Valentino and Rambova went on a dancing tour of the country, which raised her profile as a public figure while bolstering his star image despite not appearing in any new films.

Valentino and Rambova in a promotional photo for their dance tour

Unfortunately, crossing the studio system as they did resulted in a coordinated campaign to take them down a notch. Reading film magazines from the period will give you whiplash. Many of these magazines had established relationships with studios and ran news items in keeping with whatever narratives the studios wished to push. However, the stars and their managers (if they had them) had their own relationships with the magazines. So, occasionally, you’ll find items deriding Rambova as some kind of artsy-fartsy manipulative phony and then a profile piece of her or Valentino that’s sympathetic to their business woes. This is the period where the narrative emerges of Rambova as a calculating climber, using Valentino to build her own career. This talking point is often repeated today, despite the fact that Rambova had already been working on big productions for DeMille and Nazimova for years before meeting Valentino. While Rambova was certainly a key figure in developing Valentino’s star image, the plain facts make it apparent that they were working as a team—hardly abnormal. Unfortunately, neither member of said team had much in the way of business sense.

As I mentioned earlier, Rambova fashioned her life around her work. Something I didn’t mention earlier is that she was an heiress. At this point in her life, Rambova was determined to live off her own labour and not touch her inheritance. When they were battling the studios, the couple continued to not touch Rambova’s inheritance. And, both desperate to return to filmmaking, they were subject to the studio’s will. While their split is often framed as Rambova abandoning Valentino when she was denied the ability to control his career, a slightly different scenario emerges upon closer inspection. Both Valentino and Rambova were highly dedicated to their work and their work was intertwined with their relationship, a similar dynamic to Rambova’s relationship with Kosloff and later with her second husband Álvaro de Urzáiz, with whom she restored villas. With Urzáiz, their relationship degraded when they no longer had a shared project to work on. (In this case due to the Spanish Civil War.) It’s neither sensational nor romantic, but following Valentino’s reconciliation with Hollywood, after a few films, the pair was intentionally separated creatively. (This was at least partly due to the machinations of their new business manager, George Ullman, who we now know was manipulating Valentino’s finances after litigation regarding the disposition of Valentino’s estate.)

“What I desire personally is simply to be known for the work which I have always done, and that has brought me a reputation entirely independent of my marriage.” 

—“Natacha Rambova Emerges” by Edwin Schallert, Picture Play Magazine, August 1925

Rambova worked on one film independently from Valentino before their divorce, What Price Beauty? (1925), starring mutual friend (for the moment) Nita Naldi. The film is now lost and its production and release seems awfully sus, so I hope to cover that for “Lost, but Not Forgotten” soon. Regardless of the film’s success or failure, the whole endeavor soured Rambova on Hollywood.

Nita Naldi in a promotional photo from What Price Beauty?

In her book about her life with Valentino, Rambova opined:

“Hollywood—all the joys of the petty community life of ‘Main Street’ with an additional coating of gold dust thrown in for good measure!… it is merely an imitation gilded hell of a make-believe realm. Nothing but sham—sham—and more sham. “Hollywood—one continuous struggle of nobodies to become somebodies, all pretending to be what they are not.”

Through their divorce and Valentino’s untimely death the year following, Rambova never stopped working. Rambova operated boutiques selling her original designs in New York and then in France. Around this same time Rambova also got more deeply involved in spiritualism. In an odd move, she published Rudy with the final third of the book “dictated” by Valentino’s spirit. I won’t say that I don’t find that pretty distasteful, but having read the book, it reveals two key things: Rambova’s genuine affection for Valentino, patronizing as it may be, and a sincere belief in the spiritualism movement that she and her mother had been drawn into. There have been critics who have framed the book as some sort of cash-in or vengeful act against Valentino for excluding her from his will, but the facts do not support that. Rambova, to reiterate, was an heiress who did not need to work for a living. She also states directly that it is Rambova’s spiritual leader who encouraged her to publish the book as a way to promote spiritualism. That’s not necessarily any better than the false narrative, but the truth has value (and is more interesting in this case!)

In the 1930s, Rambova relocated to Spain where she finally began using that inheritance to develop rental properties on Mallorca with her aristocrat husband. If you know anything about 20th century European history, you may know what happened next. Urzáiz joined the fascists in the Spanish Civil War, and despite her abiding fear of Communists, Rambova stuck around in Spain for as long as she could before fleeing to France. Of course, it wasn’t long before the Nazi Germany invaded France, so Rambova relocated back to the United States.

During her time abroad, Rambova’s preoccupation with symbology was reignited by a trip to Egypt. This sparked the next big passion of her life, which she would pursue for over two decades: Egyptology. 

Rambova in Egypt

Rambova became a writer, researcher, and lecturer on symbolism and cosmology in Ancient Egypt (as well as spiritualism). Much of Rambova’s work was done in collaboration with Alexandre Piankoff and the French Institute for Oriental Archaeology in Cairo (IFAO). With various grants, Rambova travelled to Egypt to document important sites, via photography and illustration. Rambova also used much of her inheritance to source objects from Egypt, which she donated to museums and universities in the US. (There’s a huge discussion about that to be had, which, as an archivist myself, I am drawn to explore. But, it falls outside the purview of this blog, so it’ll have to stay a discussion for another time and place.) These collections are still accessible to researchers and the public today. Rambova continued this work until her death in the 1960s.

Without doubt there are meaningful reasons to criticise Rambova and her work. Some of her design work is appropriative at best, overtly racist at worst. She had ignorant and arrogant attitudes toward class politics bred from her uber-privileged upbringing, which occasionally bled into her work and interfered with her ability to collaborate with other artists. She definitely lacked the social skills and business sense that were very necessary for artists working in a mass-media format like film. It’s typical, but disappointing still, that so much effort has been put into demonizing Rambova for reasons that were either completely fabricated, or rooted solely in the fact that she was a woman who knew her value, but by society’s standards, didn’t know her place. All that said, maybe we are due to spend a bit more time as film enthusiasts genuinely engaging with the art Rambova created and recognizing how much of a force she was in standing up for artistry in the American film industry.

☕Appreciate my work? Buy me a coffee! ☕

Postscript: This piece was a monster, so excuse me for not diving into rumours about Rambova’s potential queerness, as it eventually fell out of the scope of the essay. But, for those in the know: my personal take is that she likely was queer, though probably not romantically entwined with Nazimova, but maybe with Fredova. I also think her marriage with Valentino was not lavender. And, even if Rambova wasn’t queer, I appreciate what a keen collaborator she was with queer colleagues and what a good friend she apparently was to queer people in her social circles and her family, despite how often her detractors would try to use accusations of lesbianism as a weapon against her. IMO if someone were of weaker character, those types of aspersions would have driven a wedge between the object and their friends and colleagues.

Bibliography/Further Reading:

Madam Valentino: The Many Lives of Natacha Rambova by Michael Morris

Rudy: An Intimate Portrait of Rudolph Valentino by His Wife Natacha Rambova

Valentino As I Knew Him by George Ullman

Picture Play Magazine, August 1925

Photoplay Magazine, December 1922

Mythological Papyri – Texts by Alexandre Piankoff & Natacha Rambova

[galaxygirl8880]

Cale gets into embroidery

After doing the Arm logo on the fake uniforms, he's intrigued.

That was his first time, hence why it looked so bad, but he surprisingly enjoyed doing it-

So, using the same supplies from last time, he decides to practice.

---

He's in his room in the middle of the night, working on a piece but very distracted-

Just looking back on the past two years of his life and when he met Choi han and is like "when did this happen??"

When he finally looks down, he realizes that in his dissociated state he, in addition to the flowers he was working on, made Choi han.

After taking a few moments to process what he just did, his face turns bright red.

Cale stands up from his rocking chair and immediately pulls out an empty box from under his bed and places the art inside.

He puts it back under the bed and stands.

"that was embarrassing..."

---

Right so the box he has now dubbed "the ones that will never see the light of day " has been steadily growing more full.

It's not that he thinks they look bad, it's just that he feels embarrassed whenever he thinks of the box-

Some were made unintentionally, and some he actually put a lot of effort in.

Most people know about his hobby but he doesn't really talk about it much-

So one day in his villa, he realizes that the one he did of Raon with dandelions is still in the Henituse territory.

Although he has others of Raon and the kids, that one is one of his favorites, inspired by a record of them finding a dandelion field and having a picnic there.

He asks Eruhaben to take him to the Henituse territory because Raon is with his mother (and it would be mortifying if Raon saw that canvas) so after apologizing for coming without notice he heads into his room with Eruhaben trailing behind.

Cale readies the spacial bag he had prepared beforehand and pulls out a smaller box from under his bed.

Forgetting Eruhaben was also in the room, he opens the box.

"Huh. You made me as an embroidery piece?"

..Fuck

---

I like this idea a lot but was unsure how to execute it so I tried my best lmao

[cardboardheartss]

Uma Jammeh (S11 Love Island Contestant)

disclaimer : this is for entertainment purposes only and i used tarot cards to get an estimate of her birth time… if you don’t agree with this technique please kindly scroll by and keep your twitter fingers to yourself!🌹💢

Uma is an estimated Pisces ascendant, hence why she is able to tract in so much attention and has also surprisingly gained a lot of public favor too! +she’s really pretty as well, hence why people are saying “the bombshell is finally bombshelling”

Her Leo Sun in her 6H, I’m sure this interpretation sounds a bit weird but we all know that the 6H represents routines and things we do on our bodies. The Sun in this house, could give her the tendency to want to tan herself, and she seems to enjoy it.

This placement could also make her have/create a social media account that is truly aesthetically appealing, and where she shows herself enjoying life and traveling around too!

Uma has her Rahu, Jupiter, Moon & Venus in her 5H! She is the definition of a lover girl! She is the type to nurture her husband/partner and will also value communication about her and her partners emotions, instead of bottling them up.

Her moon in cancer along with her positive aspects shows that she could have a possible balanced relationship with her mother too!

Her mercury in Virgo also makes sense because Uma knows how to talk really well… and also probably read people well, which is why she is able to keep the conversation going with the people in the Love Island Villa.

> her earth mercury also gives her that deep / scrunchy voice as well!!

+ Uma has her 7H Vertex square her MC… i personally believe that with this aspect she should’ve avoided finding love through the public eye because it could possibly not work out that very well.

+ Her 7H planets have better aspects with her 5H planets, as i had mentioned before she should try find a partner who is able to express their emotions, a “soft” partner. She should rather meet a partner while participating in hobbies and activities she enjoys, so in that sense they have similar interests. Or even her mom can pick her partner too… because we all know moms know the best lol!😹

Uma has her Mars in Sagittarius…. fire signs in astrology also represents ✋🏻 people, and mars represents the boyfriend. So there is a POSSIBILITY that her type leans towards the ✋🏻 man too!

(btw… not saying it’s true or anything… it’s just an interpretation… don’t take it to heart)

She has Chiron in Sagittarius in the 10H… I hope she’s careful whilst on this show because this could mean she could deal with some issues from the public eye.

Finally, Uma has her Aquarius Neptune and Uranus in her 12H, she could possibly be really intuitive and is quick to sense the vibes around her, which i why she mentioned that she wanted to chat with EVERYONE in the villa so she can just ses them out.

+ She could also have a cute and quirky weirdness too her as well! She could also rebel against traditions and do things herself!

Thank you for reading!! And don’t forget to watch Love Island S11 on ITV2 or Dailymotion lol!

I’ll do Mimi’s chart nexttt!!😉

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Demon!Eddie part 3

Premise

Part 1

Part 2

# hype's demon!Eddie fic

“Who are the lowly mortals that dare summon me?” he rumbles. His wings flare out, half solid like storm clouds, and the candles flicker and almost die. Outside, lightning flashes and thunder rumbles. The woman holds back a shriek. “State thy names!” 

The man stares at him with wide eyes. The gale has ruffled his carefully styled hair, but he doesn’t reach out to smooth it back, still clutching the leather-bound book to his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again. Gulps heavily before he tries again. When he manages to form words, his voice quivers only a little. 

“Are you really a demon?” 

He couldn’t keep the eye roll at bay if he tried. It takes all his willpower to not slap his palm to his face on top of it, to be perfectly honest. 

“No, man. I got lost on my way to comic con and wandered into your villa. You are holding a fucking Necronomicon there, dude. What do you think I am? Do these look like contacts to you?” 

He gestures at his glowing eyes in a wide, theatrical gesture. 

They gape at him. 

“Comic con?” the woman repeats weakly, like she’s never heard of the word, like this is the important part. He’s sort of starting to wish he’d ended up at a sixteen-year-old’s pajama party. 

“Yes, I’m a fucking demon,” he says because, obviously, Moneybag MacDouche here and his girlfriend are a bit dense and need to have things spelled out for them. “And I asked you a question.” 

They blink. The man’s brow wrinkles in confusion. 

“Jesus fuck- Your names?” 

The man flinches minutely, like he actually only just remembered. His shoulders square and his jaw sets. 

“Harrington,” he says. “My name is Richard Harrington. This is Charlotte, my wife.” 

Fucking finally! He breaks into a wide grin and throws his arms out, registers with a surge of satisfaction how they both jump again. 

“Very well. Greetings, Richard Harrington and Charlotte, his wife. How can I be of service to you on this fine night?” 

Silence. 

“Pardon?” says Richard. 

He holds back a groan. This will be a long one … 

“Okay, baby steps. You …” he gestures to the two of them. “are human. I am a demon. You summoned me, rather rudely interrupting my first free night in ages, may I add. Which means you want to make a deal, right?” 

“So it’s true?” Charlotte blurts, and her pale face colors with splotches of red, starting in her cheekbones and creeping all the way down to her neck. “You grant wishes?” 

He huffs. 

“I don’t grant wishes, what am I, a fucking genie?” Their faces fall with disappointment, so he is quick to elaborate. “What I do is a bit more complex. I can grant you your deepest, innermost desires, yes. But it comes at a cost. Hence the word deal. You following?” 

They nod slowly. 

“Very good. See, you’re getting there. Now, what is it that you so desperately crave?”

Part 4