#Best chardonnay

[wine-porn]

Chardonnay

One sniff and the floral aromatics on this on are off the charts. Another and the chalky, mineralific, raspy match-head blows you away. Swirl again and the melding of these two is magical as it caresses thick buttery fruit. Is this how you spell perfect Chardonnay? I suppose that argument could be made. Significant golden straw showing here at 6, the chartreuse aspects a faint glow in the body. A…

[alicedrawslesmis]

I think Robert and Valjean should go on a double date with Oyelowo!Javert and Rivette. For my own amusement.

[starssecret]

Chardonnay and Darling!

[nedlittle]

[id in alt text]

drugstore perfume - gerard way (2014) / little women (2019) dir. greta gerwig

[britneyshakespeare]

several months ago i was out late having dinner w my friends and everyone decided on olive garden, which is a restaurant i don’t like. i don’t particularly like italian food to begin w and olive garden is ridiculously expensive for a fuckin chain restaurant. last time i ordered a proper meal there i just had fettucine alfredo and it was like $16.50 and they would’ve charged me like 2 or 3 extra bucks just to add BROCCOLI. at restaurants that aren’t even italian but happen to offer alfredo pasta it often just gives you broccoli for the sake of it but NO. i was SO mad the last time i ate my last proper meal at olive garden that i vowed i’d never eat there again. $16.50 for broccoli-less pasta that had been thrown in the microwave with wet generic alfredo sauce on it, nah. plus tip. no. i told myself i’m just never eating there again, i HATE that place.

but then i lost the vote but still wanted to go out w my friends and i knew i wouldn’t get home till like, after 11 o’clock at night and i was not gonna make myself a proper dinner so i may as well eat something. and i had recently thought of this much better strategy: just order a dessert instead of an entree. i thought of this first when i went out to a restaurant that’s kinda es’pensive, and where i really just wanted to try to dessert and a proper entree probably would’ve filled me to the point where i wouldn’t be able to eat a dessert before going home. life hack by the way: you don’t have to order dinner at a restaurant. if you just want a dessert they will give it to you.

so anyway i was at olive garden back in like february and im like uggghhhh. fine. i’m not leaving this place on an empty stomach. i told the waitress i will have......... a piece of strawberry cream cake. and a glass of chardonnay.

and that is the most “i’ve been good” ass meal i think i’ve ever ordered. the waitress giggled at me.

my sister last week was hanging out w two of the friends i was w when i ordered my i’ve been good ass meal and apparently they still talk about it.

[trinityhill]

Hawke's Bay Chardonnay 2022

Discover the Hawke's Bay Chardonnay 2022, a top pick with vibrant flavors and a refined finish. Enjoy the best of 2022's Chardonnay.

[domainechardonnay]

The Allure of Chardonnay Vineyards and Wine Country Villas

Nestled amidst the rolling hills and lush landscapes lies the quintessential Chardonnay vineyard, a symbol of viticultural mastery and elegance. This blog post takes you on an enchanting journey to explore the serene beauty of Chardonnay vineyards and the luxurious retreats of Wine Country Villas. Prepare to be immersed in a world where fine wine meets unparalleled hospitality.

The Charm of Chardonnay Vineyards

Chardonnay, one of the most versatile and beloved white wine grapes, finds its perfect expression in the meticulously cared-for vineyards that span across renowned wine regions. These vineyards are not just about grape cultivation; they represent a deep-rooted passion for creating wines that captivate the palate.

A Canvas of Flavors and Aromas

The Chardonnay grape, with its remarkable adaptability, takes on the unique characteristics of its terroir, offering a spectrum of flavors ranging from crisp green apple and citrus in cooler regions to lush tropical fruit notes in warmer climates. The magic unfolds in the vineyard, where the interplay of soil, climate, and vineyard practices shapes the essence of the wine.

The Harvest: A Time-Honored Tradition

Visiting a Chardonnay vineyard during harvest season offers a glimpse into the heart and soul of winemaking. This bustling time of year is marked by a blend of anticipation and precision, as winemakers and vineyard workers come together to pick grapes at their optimal ripeness, setting the stage for the creation of exceptional wines.

Wine Country Villas: A Haven of Luxury

Amidst the picturesque settings of wine regions, Wine Country Villas stand as beacons of relaxation and luxury. These elegant estates offer an escape to tranquility, where the delights of wine country living can be savored in grandeur.

Unrivaled Comfort and Style

Wine Country Villas are designed with sophistication and comfort in mind, boasting amenities that cater to every whim of their guests. From opulent suites with panoramic vineyard views to gourmet dining experiences that feature local produce and wines, these villas provide an immersive experience in wine country elegance.

Immersive Wine Experiences

Staying at a Wine Country Villa is not just about luxury; it’s about connecting with the wine culture. Guests are invited to partake in exclusive wine tastings, vineyard tours, and even hands-on winemaking workshops, offering a deeper understanding and appreciation of the journey from grape to glass.

The Ultimate Wine Country Retreat

Combining the serene beauty of Chardonnay vineyards with the lavish comforts of Wine Country Villas creates the ultimate wine country retreat. This unique fusion offers an unforgettable escape, where the rhythms of vineyard life and the pleasures of fine wine and luxury living harmonize.

A Destination for All Seasons

Whether it’s the vibrant greens of spring, the golden hues of harvest in the fall, or the quiet beauty of the vineyards in winter, each season brings its own charm to the wine country experience. Wine Country Villas provide a year-round sanctuary, where the beauty of the vineyards and the warmth of hospitality make every visit memorable.

Conclusion: Toasting to the Wine Country Lifestyle

The allure of Chardonnay vineyards and the opulence of Wine Country Villas capture the essence of the wine country lifestyle — a celebration of fine wine, breathtaking landscapes, and unrivaled luxury. For those seeking an escape that combines the best of wine and leisure, this is a journey that promises to enchant and inspire. Raise a glass to the timeless elegance of wine country, where every moment is savored, and every sip tells a story.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) about Wine Country Villas in Hunter Valley

What is Wine Country Villa Hunter Valley?

Wine Country Villa Hunter Valley is a luxurious accommodation option nestled in the heart of the renowned Hunter Valley wine region. It offers guests an idyllic retreat surrounded by vineyards and breathtaking scenery.

What are the prices for Wine Country Villas in Hunter Valley?

Prices for Wine Country Villas in Hunter Valley vary depending on factors such as the size of the villa, amenities included, and the time of year. For accurate pricing information, please visit our website or contact us directly.

What amenities can I expect at a Wine Country Estate?

Our Wine Country Estate offers a range of amenities designed to enhance your stay, including spacious living areas, fully equipped kitchens, private outdoor spaces, and often access to swimming pools, tennis courts, and barbecue facilities.

What does “Villas in the Vines” refer to?

“Villas in the Vines” are charming accommodations situated amidst the vineyards of Hunter Valley. These villas provide guests with a unique opportunity to immerse themselves in the beauty of wine country while enjoying luxurious amenities and unparalleled views.

Are there cabins available in Hunter Valley wine country?

Yes, Hunter Valley offers a variety of cabins nestled amidst the scenic vineyards and rolling hills. These cabins provide a cozy and intimate retreat for guests looking to experience the beauty of wine country.

What does the Hunter Valley Villa Accommodation offer?

Hunter Valley Villa Accommodation provides guests with a range of villa options, from cozy retreats for couples to spacious estates for larger groups. Each villa is tastefully decorated and equipped with modern amenities to ensure a comfortable stay.

What is Grapevines Boutique Accommodation?

Grapevines Boutique Accommodation refers to unique and stylish lodging options located within or near grapevine-filled landscapes. These accommodations often offer personalized service and attention to detail, making them perfect for a memorable getaway in Hunter Valley.

What amenities are available at Crowne Plaza Hunter Valley Spa?

The Crowne Plaza Hunter Valley Spa offers a wide range of indulgent spa treatments and wellness services, including massages, facials, body wraps, and more. Guests can relax and rejuvenate amidst the serene surroundings of wine country.

[thefinewinecompany]

From Blanc de Blancs to Rosé: A Guide to Sparkling Wine Styles

Introduction

Sparkling wine has become synonymous with celebration, luxury, and sophistication. Whether it's a special occasion, a romantic dinner, or just a casual evening with friends, a bottle of bubbly adds a touch of elegance to any gathering. However, not all sparkling wines are the same. In this guide, we will explore the world of sparkling wine, from the classic elegance of Blanc de Blancs to the delightful allure of Rosé varieties. So, let's pop the cork and dive into the effervescent world of sparkling wine.

Understanding Sparkling Wine Basics

Before we delve into the specific styles of sparkling wine, it's important to understand what sets them apart from still wines. Sparkling wine is known for its effervescence, which is created through a second fermentation process inside the bottle. The carbon dioxide produced during this process is trapped, resulting in those delightful bubbles that dance on your palate.

The base wine used for sparkling wine can be made from a variety of grape varieties, with Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier being popular choices. The winemaking process, which involves the addition of sugar and yeast, creates the magic of bubbles.

The Elegance of Blanc de Blancs

Blanc de Blancs is a sparkling wine style that showcases the utmost elegance and finesse. The name, which translates to "white from whites," hints at its primary grape variety: Chardonnay. This wine is characterized by its pale color and crisp, citrusy notes. The Fine Wine Company offers a selection of Blanc de Blancs that exemplify the artistry of Chardonnay winemaking.

What sets Blanc de Blancs apart is its purity and refinement. The Chardonnay grapes used are typically sourced from the best vineyards, ensuring a high-quality base wine. These sparkling wines are often aged for several years, resulting in a complex flavor profile with hints of green apples, lemon, and a delicate minerality.

Exploring the World of Rosé Sparkling Wines

For those who prefer a touch of romance in their wine glass, Rosé sparkling wines are the perfect choice. Rosé sparkling wine gets its captivating pink hue from the addition of red grape skins during the winemaking process. The Fine Wine Company offers an array of Rosé sparklers that are perfect for toasting to love or simply enjoying a sunny afternoon.

Rosé sparkling wines come in various styles, from dry to sweet, and their flavors can range from bright red berries to citrusy zests. The versatility of Rosé sparkling wines makes them an ideal choice for pairing with a wide range of dishes.

Pairing Sparkling Wines with Food

Now that you're familiar with the sparkling wine styles, it's time to explore the art of pairing them with food. Sparkling wines, with their vibrant acidity and effervescence, make for fantastic companions at the dinner table. Here are some delightful pairings to elevate your culinary experiences:

Blanc de Blancs: This elegant wine pairs beautifully with oysters, sushi, and light seafood dishes. Its crisp acidity complements the brininess of seafood.

Rosé Sparkling Wine: The subtle fruitiness of Rosé sparklers makes them a great match for appetizers, salads, and fruity desserts. They also work wonderfully with spicy cuisine.

Sweet Sparkling Wine: Sweet sparkling wines, like Moscato d'Asti, are perfect for desserts. Try them with fruit tarts or chocolate mousse for a delightful combination.

Buying Sparkling Wines at The Fine Wine Company

If you're ready to explore the world of sparkling wines, The Fine Wine Company is your go-to destination. They offer an exquisite selection of Blanc de Blancs, Rosé sparklers, and other premium wines. With a commitment to quality and a passion for exceptional wine, you can trust that you'll find the perfect bottle for any occasion.

The Fine Wine Company's knowledgeable staff can assist you in choosing the right sparkling wine to suit your preferences and the dishes you plan to serve. With a wide range of options, including renowned Champagne houses and boutique producers, you're sure to discover the ideal sparkling wine for your next celebration.

Conclusion

In this guide, we've explored the diverse and captivating world of sparkling wines, from the purity and elegance of Blanc de Blancs to the romantic allure of Rosé varieties. These effervescent delights are not just for special occasions; they can elevate everyday moments into something extraordinary. So, the next time you're looking for that perfect bottle to celebrate life's moments, consider the sparkling wine options at The Fine Wine Company. Cheers to the world of bubbly, where every sip is a celebration of life's joys!

[liocowine]

This spectacular site with unobstructed views of the Pacific was a former apple farm and its soils are full of fossilized scallop shells. In the wild 2020 vintage we harvested early, fermented gently, and bottled only the free-run juice. The result? A wine stuffed with red currant, rhubarb, and pink peppercorn aromas and that electric, red crunch we've come to depend on from this zone.

[grahamkennedy]

It's just me and my Jacob's Creek 2021 Shiraz against the world.

[wine-porn]

Happy Chard

Clear and light in the glass, a nose calm and sweet: full of soft florals, appley fruit, oak and fresh butter. A bit more powerful on the palate: full-bodied and rich, showing numerous complexities we appreciate from this variety under careful bottling. Plum and pear with a sort of carmelized decadence to all, it balances well right down into a bit of pithy bitter tannin on finish. 2021 BALVERNE…

[be4chywritez]

sweet like honey | max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader

"you're to sweet for me."

Max doesn't like how nice you are towards him.

beachy’s masterlist🐚

prompt list

Max isn't sure why he doesn’t like you. You’ve never wronged him, never talked bad about him, or been rude in any way. But for some odd reason, Max hates you.

Maybe it’s the Verstappen genes kicking in, that innate tendency to be an asshole. Or maybe it’s bred into him to keep sweet things like you at a distance. So, you can imagine his shock and horror when he sees you perched on the couch, flipping through a book in his friend’s Italian villa.

Your eyes meet his, and a smile graces your lips. You place the book in your lap, and he watches as your eyes brighten at the sight of him, the same way they might light up at the sight of a pretty flower.

Your small yellow sundress barely covers your upper thighs, and Max can’t help but stare before quickly looking down at his phone, not wanting to be too obvious about his boyish gawking.

“Max,” you say softly, your voice warm and rich like honey, drawing his attention whether he wants it or not.

He hears you, of course, but pretends to focus on his phone. His thumb moves slowly over the screen, though nothing he sees holds his interest. It’s the way you say his name that sticks in his mind, making it impossible to ignore.

“It’s nice to see you,” you continue, your tone sincere as if you mean it more than you should. You settle back into the cushions, your dress slipping a little higher on your thighs, and he catches himself glancing before looking away again.

Max lets out a quiet huff, his eyes still fixed on his phone, but his attention is all on you now. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he murmurs, his voice lower than usual, almost guarded.

You shift, crossing your legs under you, the air feeling warmer, closer. “A surprise, I guess,” you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips, the kind that lingers, soft and effortless.

Max clenches his jaw, forcing himself to look back at his phone. Still, he’s hyper-aware of your presence, of the subtle scent of your perfume lingering in the room. He swallows hard, trying to steady himself, even as his chest tightens.

“Yeah,” he mutters, almost under his breath, like he’s afraid to say anything else, and you let the moment settle, content with the quiet between you.

Just then, his best friend Jamie stumbles in, holding a glass of chardonnay. “Maxie,” he coos, squishing Max’s cheeks together, making his lips pucker. Close behind comes your best friend, Mila—Jamie’s girlfriend.

A few others join the group, a mix of Jamie and Mila’s friends, and Max’s brow furrows as he realizes that they’re all couples. He internally groans, watching your eyes flit around like a lost puppy.

“Alright, everyone,” Mila announces with a clap of her hands, “time to head up. We’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow.”

One by one, the group starts dispersing, grabbing their things and heading upstairs. Max lingers, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, but he’s acutely aware of you standing up from the couch, smoothing down the hem of your dress.

You move with an easy grace, slipping past him with a soft, “Goodnight, Max.” There’s no sarcasm, no bite—just genuine kindness that he doesn’t understand. You flash him a small smile before heading toward the stairs.

Max’s jaw tightens as he watches you go. You’re far too calm, far too kind for his liking. It makes him uncomfortable, like you’re holding a mirror up to the way he behaves, forcing him to see the stark contrast between you.

He takes a deep breath, tucking his phone into his pocket, and follows behind the group. The villa is beautiful, the soft glow of the lights casting long shadows across the walls as everyone makes their way to their respective rooms. His room is at the far end of the hall, and as he reaches it, he notices you standing just outside the door next to his.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” you say lightly, your voice warm and soft. You hold your toothbrush and a towel, your yellow sundress replaced by pale pink silky pajamas, and there’s something almost disarming about how comfortable you seem.

Max nods, his expression neutral. “Yeah.”

You don’t push the conversation, only smile again as you step into your room. “Sleep well, Max,” you say over your shoulder, as if you mean it.

He huffs quietly, more out of habit than frustration, and slips into his own room. The door closes with a soft click, and he leans back against it, rubbing a hand over his face.

For a moment, he stands there, in the silence of the room, staring at nothing in particular. He doesn’t know why your kindness unsettles him so much. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, but that’s exactly the problem. You’re too nice. Too understanding. And for some reason, it gets under his skin.

Max changes into a T-shirt and shorts, moving about the room on autopilot. He keeps hearing your voice, soft and sweet, lingering in his thoughts.

Finally, he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, trying to shut everything out. But it’s quiet now—too quiet. And even though you’re just on the other side of the wall, he can’t stop thinking about you.

In the middle of the night, he’s still awake, tossing and turning, when there’s a soft knock on his door. Max sits up, frowning slightly, wondering who it could be at this hour.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pads across the room, opening the door just a crack. It’s you, standing there, a little sheepish, your arms crossed lightly over your chest.

��Sorry,” you whisper, barely audible, “I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just… my room's really hot. I think the AC is broken.”

Max blinks, unsure of what to say at first. Part of him wants to tell you to deal with it yourself, but another part of him can’t ignore it.

His eyes linger on you more than he’d admit—your hair sticking to your neck from sweat, your cheeks flushed, and you nibble your lip nervously. Your tank top has ridden up, a sliver of your hip exposed, and Max does everything in his power to push those thoughts away.

“Uh… you could just crack open a window,” he suggests, his voice a bit rough from sleep. He knows the words sound hollow even to him. He doesn’t want you in his space, yet part of him doesn’t want you sweating alone either.

You fidget slightly, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I tried, but it didn’t help. I just thought… maybe I could crash in here?” The words hang in the air, hopeful yet tentative.

Max’s heart races at the idea. The prospect of sharing the bed makes his palms sweat. It’s one thing to be in the same room, but sharing a bed? He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as he weighs his options.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but there’s a hint of something deeper in his tone. The image of you curled up beside him—too close for comfort—sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you offer a nervous smile, clearly not wanting to invade his space, so you back away, ducking into your room. He watches you until the door is shut behind you.

Max stands in the doorway, his heart racing as he processes the moment. He’s not sure why he feels such a strong urge to call you back, to insist that it’s okay, but the words remain stuck in his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of irritation and something else—something he’s not ready to name.

As he paces back to his bed, he tries to shake off the lingering image of you standing there, your flushed cheeks and nervous smile. He lies down again, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you’re just a wall away.

A few moments pass before he hears a soft, muffled noise from your room—a sniffle, maybe? It makes his chest tighten at the thought of you crying because you're uncomfortable.

“Damn it,” he mutters to himself, tossing an arm over his eyes. He’s not going to sleep if he keeps thinking about you like this.

After what feels like an eternity of tossing and turning, he finally sits up, his decision made. He stands up, his heart pounding in his chest, and makes his way to your door. He raises his hand to knock but hesitates, uncertainty flooding in.

“Why the hell am I doing this?” he mutters, his self-doubt creeping back in. But the thought of you feeling uncomfortable alone is enough to push him through. He knocks softly, the sound barely more than a tap.

“Hey,” you call from inside, and he can hear the surprise in your voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replies, his voice worse than he intended. “I… just thought maybe you could come back. It’s probably not that hot here.”

There’s a brief silence, and he can imagine the look on your face—surprised and perhaps a little hopeful. “Really?” you ask, and he can’t help the slight smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

The door swings open, revealing you still in your silk-clad pajamas. He rips his gaze away, feeling a tightness in his throat. He doesn't utter a word, just turns around, walking to his room. He can hear your feet padding behind him, and you close the door behind the both of you.

Max keeps his back to you as you quietly follow him into the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The air feels heavier now, thick with unspoken tension as you stand there in the dim light, waiting for him to say something. But Max doesn’t. Instead, he heads straight for the bed, pulling back the covers on one side, his movements stiff and a little too deliberate.

“You can take the right side,” he mutters, not looking at you, as he slides under the covers on the left. His heart is pounding, though he tries to act like everything is fine.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to thank him or just keep quiet. Deciding not to push it, you simply nod, even though he isn’t looking at you. You cross the room and slip into the bed beside him, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he can feel the same tension thrumming between you that you do. The bed feels impossibly small now, the space between you a thin sliver of air that crackles with awkwardness.

You lie still, facing away from him, but you can feel his presence—so close and yet so distant. The sound of his steady breathing fills the room, and you wonder if he’s doing the same as you, staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep.

Minutes stretch on, and the silence between you is deafening. Every creak of the bed, every shift in the sheets seems louder in the stillness of the night. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice so soft it barely breaks the silence. You don’t expect a reply, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your own breathing.

Then, finally, Max shifts slightly beside you. “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles, his voice low and rough, but there’s something different in it now. Something that isn’t as cold as before.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he isn’t as indifferent as he wants you to think. You curl up a little more, trying to make yourself comfortable, even as the tension lingers in the air between you.

As the night drags on, you begin to drift in and out of sleep. The heat from the earlier part of the night is gone now, replaced by a cooler breeze that drifts in through the open window. The sheets are soft, and for the first time since you entered Max’s room, you start to relax.

Just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you feel something shift again. Max turns slightly, the mattress dipping as he moves closer—just barely, but enough for you to notice. His arm brushes against yours, and the warmth of his skin sends a small jolt through you.

You stay perfectly still, wondering if he did it on purpose or if he’s just restless. Either way, you don’t move, afraid to disturb the delicate balance between you.

Your mind races—what if you roll over onto him in your sleep? What if you start snoring?—and the nerves bubble up, spilling out before you can stop yourself.

“So… I haven’t slept in a guy’s bed in ages,” you blurt out, staring at the ceiling. Max barely reacts, his only acknowledgment a low, noncommittal “Mhm,” but it doesn’t stop you from talking.

“Yeah, it’s been, like… a long time. I’m more of a 'sleep with a thousand pillows' kind of person, you know? Gotta have the right setup.” You laugh a little, mostly to yourself, feeling the need to fill the quiet. Max doesn’t respond, but you keep going, too nervous to stop. “Oh, and I’m really bad with directions, like, I get lost in grocery stores. Once, I ended up in the freezer aisle for thirty minutes just trying to find the cereal.”

“Mhm.”

His replies are half-hearted at best, but you don’t mind. If anything, the sound of his quiet indifference weirdly helps soothe your nerves.

“Oh! And I can’t swim,” you say with a laugh, thinking it’s just another random fact to throw out there. But this time, Max’s head snaps toward you.

“You came to the amalfi coast, and you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice sharper than before, with a hint of amusement. His eyes narrow slightly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” you reply, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Figured I’d just, you know… stay on the shore.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid.”

“Maybe,” you say, laughing softly, your nerves easing a bit. “But I’m good at other things. Like… did you know I can recite the entire script of Finding Nemo? Well, mostly.”

Max rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Great skill.”

You keep talking, the words flowing easier now. Your voice fills the room, soft and rhythmic, and even though Max doesn’t say much, you can feel the tension in the air start to shift. His body relaxes slightly, the space between you feeling a little less awkward.

“And another thing, I’m a terrible cook. Burnt spaghetti once. Didn’t even think that was possible. It’s water and noodles, right?” You laugh again, and this time Max lets out a quiet huff—almost like a chuckle, though he’d never admit it.

Your voice is like a steady hum, lulling the room into a gentle calm. You talk about everything and nothing, the words spilling out in a quiet stream. Max listens, his responses becoming softer, almost inaudible, but it doesn’t matter. His breathing slows, his eyes fluttering shut as your voice washes over him.

You don’t notice when he finally drifts off, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. But somehow, you feel it—the way the energy in the room has shifted, his earlier sharpness melted away into something softer, more relaxed.

The next morning, sunlight spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stir first, the warmth of the bed enveloping you, your body reluctant to wake. For a moment, you forget where you are, and then it hits you—Max’s bed, Max’s room. You blink your eyes open slowly, turning your head slightly to see him still there, asleep.

He’s lying on his back now, the sheets tangled around his waist, his chest rising and falling with each slow breath. His face is serene, the harsh lines you’ve come to associate with him softened by sleep. His hair is slightly tousled, giving him an almost boyish look, something so different from the hard-edged man who usually glares at you.

You feel a strange flutter in your chest as you look at him, this version of Max—unguarded, vulnerable. It’s a side of him you never thought you’d see, and it’s almost too intimate, too close. You shift a little, trying not to make any noise, but the bed creaks softly under your weight.

Max stirs, his brows furrowing slightly as he slowly wakes up. His eyes open halfway, still hazy with sleep, and for a brief moment, he looks at you without the usual edge in his gaze. It’s like he’s forgotten for a second who you are, where he is.

Then, reality seems to settle back in, and his eyes narrow ever so slightly, though there’s no real malice there. Just a kind of gruff annoyance.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice rough and low, thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply softly, offering a tentative smile.

He shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows, the sheet falling further down his waist, revealing more of his toned torso. You can’t help but glance, quickly averting your eyes when you realize you’re staring.

Max runs a hand through his messy hair, yawning as he glances at you. “You talk a lot in your sleep too, or is that just when you’re awake?” he asks, a hint of that familiar sarcasm creeping back into his tone, though there’s no real bite behind it.

You chuckle lightly, relaxing a little. “Only when I’m awake, I promise.”

He grunts, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence between you less awkward than you would’ve expected. It’s almost… comfortable.

Max stretches, his muscles flexing slightly as he does, and you try not to let your eyes linger too long. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t seem to notice.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “how’d you sleep?”

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, almost begrudgingly, “Didn’t mind all the talking.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, the small admission catching you off guard. You smile, warmth spreading through you. “Glad to know I didn’t annoy you too much.”

Max doesn’t respond, just grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. But you catch the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips before he turns away.

He stands, pulling on a shirt and running a hand through his hair again before heading toward the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast soon,” he mutters. “Don’t take too long.”

He steps out before poking his head back in his face serious, “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he says gesturing a finger around towards you and him, right asshole Max is alive and well.

“Right.” you deflate, but none the less walk to your room. You notice the AC now works. 

The warmth of the Italian sun is already starting to filter in through your window as you slip into your pale yellow babydoll dress. The soft fabric feels light against your skin, perfect for the warm weather and the laid-back vibes of the villa.

When you finally make your way downstairs, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries fills the air, and you can hear the familiar hum of laughter and chatter. The villa’s terrace is bathed in sunlight, with everyone seated around the large outdoor table, enjoying breakfast. 

Max is already seated, of course, his usual stoic expression in place. He’s leaning back in his chair, sunglasses on, making it impossible to tell if he’s even noticed you. 

An array of colorful fruits and pastries litters the table, couples chatting and laughing as you offer everyone a warm smile while taking a seat next to Mila, who returns the gesture. “How was the room, darling?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea. You can feel a pair of laser beams on your face, as if Max is staring into your soul.

“Oh, it was truly nice,” you reply, feeling the tips of your ears heat up with nerves. Mila seems to buy it and turns to address the entire group.

“So, guys, today we’re going to take the yacht around,” she announces, eliciting a few excited hoots from your friends. Your stomach tightens at the thought of being stuck on a yacht, but you brush the anxiety aside.

As the chatter around the breakfast table grows, the knot in your stomach tightens at the mention of the yacht. You toy with the edge of your napkin, trying to suppress the wave of nerves that accompanies the idea of being out on the water, especially since you can’t swim.

Max, still leaning back in his chair, tilts his head slightly in your direction, as if he senses the unease radiating off you. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but you swear you can feel his gaze tracing over you. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can almost hear his voice echoing in your mind: “You came to the Amalfi Coast, and you can’t swim?”

You swallow hard, forcing a smile as you join in on the group's excitement, even though the thought of being surrounded by water sends a shiver down your spine. Mila stands, gathering everyone’s attention, and starts guiding the group toward the dock.

The villa’s outdoor space spills into a sprawling garden, leading to a private path that takes you to where the yacht is docked. The sunlight glints off the water, almost blinding in its brightness, as you walk with the others toward the sleek, luxurious yacht. Everyone seems thrilled—laughing and talking about the views they’ll see—while you stay quieter than usual, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

You tug at the sleeves of your oversized polo, the fabric bunching slightly in your grip as you focus on steadying your breath. The path to the dock feels longer than it actually is, the sounds of the group’s lively chatter fading into the background. You glance at the shimmering blue water ahead and bite the inside of your cheek.

Max lingers just a few steps behind, and you can feel the weight of his presence even without looking. His footsteps are slow and deliberate, as if he’s watching you closely, waiting for any sign of weakness. You try not to dwell on it, though the image of him smirking at your fear lingers in the back of your mind.

As the group finally boards the yacht, you become hyper-aware of the water surrounding you. The boat rocks gently as everyone gets settled, and you grip the railing tightly, trying to hide your discomfort. Max watches you for a moment before walking past you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours.

“Relax,” he mutters under his breath, not even looking at you, but there’s something almost reassuring in his tone. You exhale slowly, forcing yourself to take a seat with the others, letting the warmth of the sun and the sound of conversation distract you from the vast ocean around you.

As the yacht pulls away from the dock, you try to focus on the scenery. The Amalfi Coast is breathtaking—cliffs draped in greenery, colorful villas dotting the shoreline, and the ocean sparkling beneath the golden sunlight. Everyone around you laughs and soaks up the beauty of the day, but your hands remain clenched in your lap, your mind preoccupied with the endless expanse of water.

Despite your nervousness, you find yourself stealing glances at Max. He’s sitting at the back of the yacht, one arm draped casually over the side, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he stares out at the water. He looks so at ease, completely unaffected by the swaying of the boat or the openness of the sea.

The breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and as you turn your attention back to the group, you feel the yacht slow down. Mila claps her hands, announcing that they’ve anchored near a beautiful cove, perfect for swimming.

Your stomach drops.

Everyone begins shedding layers, excitement buzzing through the group as they prepare to jump into the water. You stay seated, gripping the edge of your chair as they leap overboard, laughter echoing around you.

Max stands, pulling off his shirt and revealing the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. Your eyes linger for a moment longer than you intend. He catches your gaze just before he moves toward the edge of the yacht, that same smirk playing on his lips.

“You coming in?” he asks, his voice low, almost challenging.

You shake your head quickly, offering a small laugh. “No, I think I’ll just… stay here and enjoy the sun.”

Max arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying your excuse, but he doesn’t push it. He gives you one last look, his smirk still in place, before diving effortlessly into the water.

You watch as your friends giggle and enjoy themselves. Mila waves up at you, and you give her a fake salute. She giggles and goes back to swimming. A few minutes later, several members of the group come up to take a break, Max among them. You hate to admit it, but you watch the water droplets roll off him, his cheeks flushed from the sun, and a tight feeling blooms in your core as you force yourself to look away.

The group is lively, and at one point, Jamie, always the instigator, starts playfully shoving friends toward the edge of the boat, teasing and laughing. You stand at the back, watching, hoping to stay out of the chaos.

But in a moment of playful exuberance, Jamie swings his arm and accidentally nudges you forward. Time seems to slow as you lose your balance, and before you can even process what’s happening, you tumble over the side of the yacht. The water crashes around you, and as you hit the surface, the cold rush envelops you, sending panic gripping your chest. Instinctively, you kick your legs, but the water pulls you under, and you flail in confusion. The world above disappears, and the muffled sounds of laughter and splashing fade into silence.

Just as you start to lose hope, a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back to the surface. You gasp for air, blinking the water from your eyes, and find yourself face-to-face with Max. His expression is intense, irritation etched on his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps, though his grip is steady and reassuring as he keeps you afloat.

You can’t help but laugh nervously, trying to shake off the fear. “I didn’t want to go in!” you manage to sputter, still clinging to him for dear life.

Max rolls his eyes, the frown returning, though it’s softer this time. “You need to stop thrashing around,” he says, his voice lower now.

As he helps you back onto the yacht, the warmth of the sun hits your damp skin once more. Laughter and cheers erupt from the group as they realize you’re okay, but Max’s presence is the only thing that matters to you in this moment. He doesn’t say anything; his expression remains unreadable as he sets you down.

You catch your breath, water dripping from your hair and running down your arms. “Thanks, Max,” you say, trying to brush off the embarrassment. His usual smirk is absent, and for a split second, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he cares.

But as soon as you’re on the boat, he steps back, leaving you with the others. “Try not to drown next time,” he says, his tone flat as he pulls his shirt back on, the fabric clinging to his damp skin. It feels more like a reflex than a genuine jab, but you let it slide, laughing it off. “I’ll try my best.”

He turns away, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. You shake your head, trying to focus on the laughter around you as Jamie and Mila check to make sure you’re okay. “Really, I’m fine,” you assure them, even as your heart races from the close call.

Just like that, everyone goes back to normal. Lunch is served, and as the yacht heads back to the dock under the fading light, you’re the first one off, eager to touch solid ground once more. You don’t bid anyone goodnight; you’re all too tired for that. You head upstairs to your room, closing the door behind you and shrugging off your damp polo and swimsuit. You hop in the shower, rinsing the salt water off your skin.

After your shower, the soft sound of knocking pulls you from your thoughts. You wrap yourself in a towel and open the door to find Mila standing there, concern etched across her features.

“Hey, just wanted to check on you,” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes scan your face, searching for any signs of distress. “That fall looked pretty rough.”

You chuckle softly, waving it off. “I’m fine, really. Just a little embarrassed.”

Mila raises an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “You sure it’s not because of Max? I saw the way he pulled you out of the water. It looked pretty… intimate.”

The mention of Max sends a warmth flooding through you, one that you quickly dismiss. “Oh, please. He was just being a jerk, as usual.”

She smirks, crossing her arms. “Or maybe he just likes the attention.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, but a small part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. “He’s just… Max. You know how he is.”

Mila studies you for a moment, trying to read between the lines. “Well, just think about it. He’s not always the way he acts, you know?”

With that, she leaves, and you find yourself lost in thought, her words echoing in your mind. What if Max really did care?

Later that night, curiosity gets the better of you. You stand in front of Max’s door, your heart racing as you knock softly.

“Come in,” he calls, and you push the door open cautiously. He’s lounging on his bed, scrolling through his phone, and for a moment, you’re struck by how at home he looks.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft. “I just wanted to thank you… for earlier.”

Max looks up, a flicker of something in his gaze before he masks it with indifference. “You mean for saving your ass?” he quips, his smirk returning. “Don’t mention it.”

You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room. “You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

His expression shifts, annoyance flickering across his features. “What do you want me to do? Throw you a parade for not drowning?”

“Maybe just a little acknowledgment would be nice,” you counter, crossing your arms defensively.

He stands, taking a step closer, and the air between you crackles with tension. “I don’t like how sweet you are,” he says, his tone sharp. “It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” you challenge, feeling a rush of defiance. “Is that really all you’ve got? Because it sounds like you’re just scared of someone actually caring.”

Max’s eyes darken, and for a moment, you think he might snap back. But instead, he steps even closer, invading your personal space. “You think you’re so great, don’t you? All sunshine and rainbows, but it doesn’t work with me.”

Before you can respond, he closes the distance, and suddenly, his lips are on yours—fervent and demanding. His warmth envelops you, slightly chapped against your own, igniting a spark that sends a thrill coursing through your entire body. You’re caught off guard at first, but your instincts take over, and you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He presses you against the door, his body firm and solid against yours, radiating heat that makes your pulse quicken. The kiss is intoxicating; every second stretches into eternity—his lips moving against yours in a dance that feels both wild and tender.

When you finally pull away, breathless, your heart races as you search his eyes. “Wait… Max—”

He leans in again, his breath mingling with yours, heavy with longing. “You taste sweet,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, a smirk tugging at his lips.

A rush of warmth floods your cheeks at his words. “Is that all you have to say?” you tease, a smile breaking through your fluster.

Max steps back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he watches you intently. “What do you want me to say? That I’m an asshole who can’t help but want you?”

The air between you buzzes with unspoken tension—a mix of frustration and attraction. You feel exhilarated yet confused, unable to ignore the thrill of being this close to him, the chemistry crackling like electricity.

“Maybe you could start by admitting you actually care,” you challenge softly, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Maybe,” he replies, a hint of seriousness in his tone before leaning in again, capturing your lips with his. This time, it’s even more intense; his hands grip your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

But as the moment stretches on, you pull back slightly, breathless. “Max—”

He leans in again, and you find yourself needing to physically stop him, your hands resting on his chest. “Wait, we can’t just—”

“Why not?” he presses, his voice low and needy, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You’re both panting, caught in an electric moment. “You’re infuriating, you know that?” you say, a smile creeping onto your lips despite the chaos swirling around you.

Max smirks, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, but you like it.” He crashes his lips against yours once more, and as he pulls away, he runs his tongue along his lower lip, a boyish smirk breaking through. “Sweet like honey,” he teases, prompting you to laugh and tilt your head back. Without thinking, you pull him down by his shirt collar, kissing him again, lost in the moment.

[starssecret]

Chardonnay

Chardonnay is very charismatic, and such a gossiper. He seems to always be in the know about some drama. However, he is incredibly loyal, so if you are a close friend, he'll keep your secrets so well you might forget you told him.

Chardonnay is an extravert, loves going to parties and hanging out with friends. Though you'll find he always has the most energy whenever he's right by your side <3 And he's a great communicator, he'll always tell you exactly how he feels when you ask.

Chardonnay has Autism but is high masking from leftover underground habits. It's hard to pick up on his symptoms or when he's struggling, but just ask and he'll tell you. He is however very picky when it comes to food, and texture. Do Not get him anything velvet he hates it, feels too wrong.

Chardonnay loves fashion, particularly jewelry. He even makes his own! Both you and him are always decked out in jewelry of all types but especially rings. But also, all his clothes are incredibly fashionable, nothing in his closet in boring in any form, and if you ask, he'll help you set your closet and style to be to your liking while being fashionable still ;]

Chardonnay knows, his younger brother Silver, he's best friends with Knight and Noir. So, he knows Shadow and Bean as well. And Bee from the coffee shop! He's a regular and will chat with Bee all the time. He knows of Pumpkin and Muffin from the market, seeing them around but Chardonnays usually busier looking at jewelry stands.

[mossistyping]

Ohhh I forgot the first five or so pages were mostly bullet points paragraphs lol. Oops!!!

Chuckles nervously

[andersonfilms]

daydreaming about tennisplayer!abby who is the best in the game, she’s been dominant almost since she was able to hold a racket in her hand. with each year passing by, there wasn’t anything else she’d rather be doing. she’s cocky about it too. not in a way that’s obvious, but enough to make sure her opponents know how good she is. with her power backing her monstrous serve, she tends to leave everyone in the dust, well, until you. it’s the first time her matches have gone to a third set. you’re getting in her head and she’s not too fond of it.

you’re younger than her but fuck…you’re amazing. abby’s experienced enough to pull herself together in the match point before the tiebreak catches up with her. the white sleeves stay pure as snow along with her reputation. the fact she almost let wimbledon slip through her fingers isn’t lost on her. it leaves her exposed to future opponents, yet she displays her charming smile as you hold the runner’s up prize, your hips touching hers.

it isn’t until the after party, she finds you hiding away from the swarm of people, alone on the beach as the sand kisses your feet, the moonlight illuminating your glowing skin.

abby wishes she wasn’t enchanted with you. you’re the competition, the best she’s had in years at that.

“didn’t like how the match went?” you question, offering a sip of your glass of wine.

“i should’ve ended it sooner.”

“not even going to give me a little credit?” you smirk as she takes a few sips on the chardonnay. abby allows the substance to influence her decision. along with the few glasses she’s finished tonight.

“the abby anderson drops the second set but has a courageous victory against the new and up-comer.” you laugh, looking her up and down before settling on a deep pair of curious blue eyes.

“don’t sweat it, the headlines will be praising you. you’re the golden girl.” you assure her as your hands play with the chain, tugging on it as you maneuver her closer to you.

“what are you playing at?” abby quints, blonde eyebrows furrowed.

“nothing, m’just curious i suppose.” you play with the collar of her button up, her toned pecs slightly exposed. the defined line in the middle disappearing under the tank she wore underneath it. the golden chain laying deliciously on her freckled skin, you wanted to choke her with it.

whether you would get off from it, you hadn’t decided.

“i want to see for myself if you’re as golden as they say.” you play with the ends of her blonde waves, released from her constricted braid. you lean in, perfume invading abby’s senses as you place your hands on her toned abdomen.

biting your lip as you peak through your eyelashes, practically pressing your body against hers.

“i think you’re reading this wrong.” the burly blonde pressed but you pinch her side which lurches her forward. playfully, you bite her earlobe.

“mhm, i don’t think so.” you grin like a cheshire cat, her heavy breathes are the only thing to be heard.

you lean back, leaving abby no choice but to lean in. delightfully, your face turning as her lips ghost over yours. you smirk, eating every single moment of it right up.

“reach up my dress, abby.”

“um” she pauses, chuckling softly. “can you say that again? i could have sworn you just said—”

“up my dress, anderson.” you quirk your eyebrow upwards. daring the uptight tennis legend to take a step into something she really shouldn’t. she’s never been tried quite like this, but she’s also never had someone who made her entire body light a flame.

her firm hand slightly drifts, fingertips softly kissing your thighs, the smooth skin feeling tempting under her fingertips. she gazes at you expectantly, waiting for your next instruction as abby traces incoherent patterns on your skin.

“waistband.” you command. with hooded eyelids, her fingertips skim over your lace as she feels something square, round edges, as she slips the piece of plastic out from under you.

“your hotel key?”

you grip her chin, tugging at her bottom lip as she pouts deliciously. “yes….and if you want to put your hands up my dress again, you’ll use it.”again, you nibble on her earlobe. “anderson, you may not scream in the court like most, but i’ll get you there tonight.”

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