#english countryside perfection !!

[happyheidi]

© 𝖡𝗈𝖻 𝖱𝖺𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗄𝗂

[subsequentibis]

one thing i will NOT miss about coming back from england. the fucking pollen attacka me

[forestal-ramblings]

Obsessed with this cottagecore YouTuber who does ASMR videos ( but she talks?) , and has a series telling the history of two witchy English girls.

[celestial-grls]

Ciao Amore - Emily Engstler x fem!reader

summary: You and Emily are on vacation in Italy together. You have a small argument on your first night there, angst ensues... word count: 2.0k a/n: I definetely wanna write a part 2 to this w/ smut...y'all lmk

This could've been the perfect ending to your and Emily's first night in Italy. Except both of you let the exhaustion from traveling and jet lag get to you, which resulted in a couple's quarrel. 

It wouldn't be fair to say you started it—except maybe that's what Emily would've believed when you gave her the wrong directions to the hotel and delayed your check-in time by a whole hour. 

At first, Emily tried to keep her composure as she asked you for confirmation on which way to turn. She scrubbed her right hand down her face and sighed, "Baby, I need you to tell me if I gotta turn left here or up ahead." 

The sun is blinding, and the tiny sun visor in the mini Cooper you guys decided to rent is barely doing anything to block it out. You're hopelessly trying to translate the directions from Italian to English from your phone. Still, you're getting less and less service the farther into the drive you guys get. Since it's quiet, you each thought the Tuscan countryside was the best option for your honeymoon. No one would recognize Emily here, and if they did, they'd be more lowkey than fans elsewhere could be. But with half a tank of gas gone, sweat collecting on the back of your neck, and a headache forming behind your eyes, your patience is wearing thin, too. 

"Umm…I think it's the next left. Yeah, the one up ahead." There isn't anything in your tone that leads Emily to believe you. 

"Are you sure? Because if not, we can't make a U-turn here." 

"Yeah, Em. That's what it says in the directions." 

As it turned out, you guys were supposed to take the first left, not the second, which led you through a tiny town with the narrowest roads you've ever seen. Emily had to drive as slowly as possible, and you tried to warn her about some of the Vespas parked on the side street. 

"Em! You almost scraped that Vespa!" You yelled in exasperation after she avoided the Vespa by half an inch. 

"Baby, relax. I know what I'm doing," she huffs before adding, "unlike some people." 

You know she's just as eager to get to your hotel as you are, so you let the sass slide this time. "Okay. I wanna see you try to read these directions in Italian. Maybe I should drive instead." 

Emily rolls her eyes and scoffs as she drives out of the little town and into wider streets. The directions show that you guys are back where you're supposed to be. "Not if we wanna make it to the hotel in one piece." 

Scrunching your brow, you ask her, "What's that supposed to mean?" You shift closer to your door, taking your elbow off the center console. 

Emily immediately notices your change in body language. She places her hand on your knee, trying to make amends. She glances over at you but stands by what she said. "C'mon, baby. Don't be ridiculous." 

You scoff and start rubbing at your temples. "You know I can drive! It's insulting you don't think I can!" 

Ever since the two of you started dating, it was evident that you would have to navigate each other's stubbornness. For most of your relationship, Emily was the driver, and you were in the passenger seat. You glanced down at the directions on your phone and saw it'd be about another five miles before you reached your hotel. 

"I never said you couldn't drive! You know what I meant, Y/N," Emily's grip tightens against the wheel as you look out the window, not meeting her gaze. 

You annoyedly sniffle and tell her, "Just go straight for another five miles." 

Both of you knew it would be the longest five miles you've ever had to drive together. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you both arrived at the hotel, you could finally breathe outside the Mini Cooper's confines. The sun was starting to go down as you guys checked in, and neither of you said a word to each other. As you began to take the dress you would wear out of your suitcase, you couldn't stop angrily unzipping the sides. Emily was stomping around the room in search of her slippers. When you kicked them in front of her, she pouted at you and flopped on the bed. 

You both knew you could behave like little kids when you got into little spats. It was a relief to finally be out of the heat, stop the stressful shuffling that comes with traveling, and finally get to spend time alone together. 

Emily sunk into the bed, shutting her eyes and harshly rubbing at them. When she opened them and turned onto her side, she watched you slide open the balcony door to lean against the railing, eyes trailing the Italian countryside lit up at night. She watched you tie your robe tighter around yourself, knowing you were probably about to step into the shower, 

She thought about opening the door and apologizing, but she figured you each needed some moments alone. She felt so sullen, watching you from behind the door. This was supposed to be a time you could spend together, finally away from the craziness and pressure back home. 

The hotel was beautiful. Outside of the balcony, it looked like the streets were lit up with millions of tiny string lights, and through the cracked door, you could hear the chatter of other couples having an early dinner. Emily sank further into the plush hotel bed before grabbing her book and busying herself. 

You open the door and come back inside, barely glancing at Emily. Emily peers over the top of the book and watches you disappear behind the bathroom door. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You came out of the bathroom with damp hair and your face scrubbed clean of the makeup you had on before. Emily was still reading on the bed when you decided to sit next to her. She closed her book, marking the page before meeting your gaze. 

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear, getting water drips on Emily's arm. You look down at your robe tie before saying, "We should probably get dinner." 

Emily sits in bed, unsure whether she's in your good graces again. She tests the waters by tucking your other strand behind your ear. When you let her, she feels relieved. "Sure, baby. Let's get dinner." 

You each get ready silently, hanging onto a tightness in your chest. It's stupid to argue the way you do because neither of you likes to admit when you're wrong. The only sounds from your hotel room are from the whir of you blow-drying your hair and Emily hanging up some shirts before choosing the one she'll wear tonight. Even if you are a little upset with her, you hope she wears the blue striped shirt that you love so much on her. 

Emily's still watching you from her place on the bed. She's considering how and at what point she should apologize to you tonight. Even if it is true that you're not a stellar driver, she shouldn't have made a comment when both of you were clearly grouchy and eager to just get to the hotel. 

It's when she sees you twist your hair up into a clip and slip on a slinky black dress that you've had forever that she feels wholly disarmed and forgets why you guys ever argue in the first place. You're leaning over the bathroom sink to dab the lipstick on and swiping what's left on your fingers on your cheeks, puckering and pouting in the mirror, completely unaware of the way Emily's looking at you. She stands there for a few seconds before clearing her throat and grabbing her shoes. When you leave the bathroom, she looks down shyly like a kid in trouble and mumbles, "Ready to go?" 

You nod, remaining neutral outside, but seeing Emily's guilty face tugs at your heart. "Let me grab my shoes." 

"I-uh. I took them out already. They're by the nightstand." She nervously adjusts the rings on her fingers as she tells you this. You brought your favorite black heels on vacation and wear them for most of the date nights you guys have.

This little gesture that she does really makes you feel guilty about giving her the cold shoulder, so you stand in front of her, bringing your hand up to rest against her face, and tell her, "Thanks, baby." 

Emily stills and looks down at you, eyes focusing on the lip color you're wearing and wondering when it'll be time to kiss you. She'd never dream of asking if you're still mad at her because she knows better than that, and chooses to wait it out and see. When you're done slipping on your heels, she puts her hand on the small of your back as you exit the hotel and have dinner at one of the restaurants down the street. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's hard to stay mad at each other in a restaurant this romantic. Your waiter poured each of you a glass of red wine and left the bottle for you both to split over the course of dinner. Emily's nervously twisting her rings while you look directly at her with your chin propped on the palms of your hand. She's focused on her plate of pasta while you sip from your glass of wine. She wipes the napkin at the corner of her mouth before clearing her throat and looking at you. 

Right now, she could really forget she's in Italy at all. All she could see was the gravity of your long eyelashes blinking back at her, your hand wrapped around the wine glass, and the corners of your mouth turned down into a slight frown. 

"Y/N? I wanted to say I'm sorry, baby." She laughs, reaching across the table to grab your hand. "I was–I shouldn't have said what I did back there in the car." 

You look at her downturned brown eyes, the blue shirt you love so much, and how it bounces off the soft light of the restaurant. You've been thinking about kissing her since she set your shoes out for you, desperately restraining yourself against kissing her stupid and forgetting you were ever angry with each other. 

You sigh, "Are we idiots, Em?" 

Emily laughs, "We must be. We're like little kids." She punctuates the tenderness of the admission by kissing the back of your hand. 

You shrug, "I'm not the best driver, I know." 

Emily doesn't say anything at first, knowing it'd only get her in more trouble to agree with that statement. "Aw baby, you know I can't read Italian. I think you were the best person for the job." 

You playfully roll your eyes, "You don't have to grovel, y'know? You're already in my good graces again." 

Emily reaches across the table to hold the side of your head, gently pressing her lips to yours. You've been thinking about her hands in your hair since she tucked your hair behind your ear earlier in the hotel room. When you pull apart, all you can taste is the wine you've both been drinking, pausing to see how it's turned the corners of Emily's mouth a delicious shade of red. Observing the color makes you kiss her back more intensely, running a finger across her jawline. 

She leans back in her chair, spreading her legs a bit before slowly sipping from her wine glass. "Y'look pretty t'night, ma." 

She's flirting with you like you guys haven't been dating for some time now. You narrow your eyes at her, "Yeah?" 

She gives you one long look, sweeping her eyes from top to bottom. "Yeah." 

You consider what your next move should be. Your instincts tell you to ask your lover what she's thinking. Her expression is relieved, cheeks flushed from the wine you've both had. Out of habit, you actually do, softly whispering, "What are you thinking, Em?" 

She looked to the side before smirking, "I think we should go back to the room so I can show you how sorry I am."

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[eccentricwritingbaby]

series masterlist, baby finn

masterlist

house divided yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral

sneaking onto stream little baby norris misses his dad and goes on a mission to find him, when found - it can only result in cuddles

bedtime stories finn is begging for a bedtime story, and lando has the perfect one to share. 

babysitting and date nights uncle carlos comes over to babysit finn as you and your husband enjoy a night out.

the necessary reactions y/n is pregnant again, time to tell the world - well, their whole world. 

preparations lando and y/n begin their quest to prepare for their baby on the way, while their first baby is just happy to be included. 

the godfather a collection of max fewtrell's importance to your son as his favorite godfather.

the last hooray in order to give finn some extra attention before the baby comes, the young family heads to the english countryside, visiting lando’s parents, and granting finn the last little bit of time all about him.

interruptions parents with a high sex drive plus a toddler who doesn’t like to be alone equals lando and y/n facing a funny yet frustrating dilemma. set before pregnancy with baby girl norris. 

[theostrophywife]

CHAPTER ONE

home | chapters | playlist

🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: sunroof by nicky youre.

🤍 author’s note: wake up babe summer theo just dropped.

Step 1 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting

Meet Cute — : A cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners.

Every good story starts with a meet cute. Unfortunately for Theo and Y/N, their first encounter happened when they were still both in their mother’s wombs, but I won’t let that deter me. What better way to start off the summer holiday than getting rescued from a remote airport by your knight-in-shining armor with a fresh haircut and a recently acquired driver’s license? Side note: research the credibility of the Ufficio Motorizzazione Civile because whoever granted Theodore Nott a valid license is clearly bloody mental. Regardless, those two will be riding off into the Italian sunset in a brand new baby blue convertible and it’s all thanks to me. 

First Year, Hogwarts Express

On the other side of the frosted glass window, the English countryside passed by in a dizzying blur as the rain painted the landscape in a dreary haze. The train left a trail of smoke and steam behind as it journeyed along, bringing you closer and closer to Hogwarts. You shifted in your seat, nearly sliding off the red leather cushion as you trained your eyes on the horizon. 

By evening, you would arrive in the Scottish Highlands to begin your education at Hogwarts. When you got on the platform at King’s Cross, you thought that the worst of your anxiety would subside, but it only grew within you like a cresting wave. Being away from home for the first time in eleven years was intimidating enough, but now you had the sorting ceremony to fret over. 

Your parents were convinced that you would be sorted into Slytherin as they had when they both attended Hogwarts. Up until now, you were fairly confident in this as well, but the minute you boarded the train, doubt started to rear its ugly head. 

You had to be sorted into Slytherin. Not only because you’ve had the green and silver posters hanging in your room since birth, but also because you couldn’t imagine being in any other house. 

Just then, the cabin door slid open and startled you out of your thoughts. Theo plopped down next to you and stretched his legs on your lap. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “There’s two benches in this cabin, Teddy.”

Your best friend grinned, his messy brown hair falling over those moody watercolor eyes. “Yeah, but they’re not as comfy as you.” 

His cheeks were rosy from running around the train, but yours were even more flushed in comparison. Theo always had that effect on you. “I found the others, by the way. They’re in Malfoy’s cabin eating their way through a mountain of sweets. Did you want to join them?” 

You shook your head, looking out the window. “Maybe later.” 

Theo swung his legs over the bench and faced you. “You’re nervous.” 

It wasn’t a question. Theo knew you well enough to read your silence. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Not to anyone but me,” he said reassuringly. “You haven’t stopped twisting your ring since we left London.”

You looked down at your right hand and surely enough, you caught yourself twisting the emerald ring on your middle finger. It was a nervous habit that you weren't even aware of until Theo pointed it out a few years ago. 

That was the thing about your friendship. You spent so much time together that sometimes it felt like Theo was an extension of you. His mother used to say that the two of you were destined to be best friends, given the fact that she and your mum were closer to sisters than friends after forming a lifelong friendship during their time at school. 

It was one of the main reasons why the sorting ceremony worried you so much. For your entire life, you had gotten used to doing everything with Theo. The two of you had been inseparable since birth. A part of you had always wondered if you and Teddy would be friends if it weren’t for your mothers. 

“What if I don’t get sorted into Slytherin?” you asked in a small voice. 

Theo leaned back and tugged at the end of your scarf. “Of course you’ll get sorted into Slytherin.” He smiled, curling his finger around the cashmere material. “Did you know that when we were born, our mums put us in matching green and silver booties? I didn’t endure all that humiliation just for you to back out now.” 

“I’m serious, Teddy.” You shoved your hands into your pockets and stared at your shoes. “What if we get sorted into different houses? What if you meet your housemates and decide that you’d rather be friends with them than me?

Theo’s expression softened. “Hey,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. A stupid sorting hat won’t change that. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He paused, grinning. “Unless you end up in Gryffindor.” 

You smacked his arm, trying and failing to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s not funny, Teddy!”

He chuckled. “I’m just winding you up, fragolina.” 

For an eleven year old, you suppose that calling a freckled redhead little strawberry was peak comedy. At least Theo seemed to think so. 

“Speaking of which, are you sure you’re not a long lost Weasley? Then you’d really need to worry about Godric snatching you up.”

“You are an absolute menace, Theodore Nott.” 

Theo grinned. “But would an absolute menace remember to buy you candy?” 

He reached into his pocket and held his palm out to you. In his hand sat a familiar purple and gold box that held the best treat in the wizarding world. 

“A chocolate frog,” you said with delight. “My favorite.”

“Got it from the trolley. I figured you could use a little cheering up. Though I might’ve accidentally sat on it.” 

You giggled, holding up the slightly dented box. “Thanks for the chocolate blob, Teddy.”

Theo grinned. “Any time, Y/N.

Day One, Vallara Floo Station

The phone rang and rang and rang.

You looked around helplessly at the floo station, praying to whatever gods that were listening that Pansy would pick up. Much to your dismay, you were sent straight to voicemail. Again.

“Pansy Parkinson, you better be laid out on a yacht with hot Italian witches dangling grapes into your mouth because that’s the only acceptable reason for not picking up your bloody phone. I swear to Salazar, I think I just told a man that I’d love to pet his chicken. Theo’s never going to let me hear the end of this—”

At that moment, you became convinced that the heat of the Italian countryside had melted your brain because you could’ve sworn that you recognized the familiar laughter echoing from behind you. 

“I’m offended, bella. All those years of friendship and yet you’ve never offered to pet my chicken.” 

You nearly dropped your phone when you whirled around and came face to face with your best friend. The Italian sunshine had been good to Theo. He looked tanner than when you last saw him, bringing out the moles and freckles that painted his olive skin like constellations. Those piercing blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and the sight of it nearly swept you off your feet. 

As if reading your mind, Theo enveloped you into a bone-crushing hug. The scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke enveloped you like a comforting hug. The hem of your gingham sundress billowed as Theo twirled you in the air. You laughed in delight, not caring one bit that the two of you were making a scene in the middle of the floo station. You hadn’t seen your best friend in two months, which was nearly an eternity for you and Theo. 

After graduation, Theo had headed down to the Italian countryside to spend the summer with his nonna. Usually, you would’ve joined him, but you were busy visiting family in New York. As fun as the States were, you missed home and you missed Theo — the two of which were synonymous in your mind.

“I missed you, fragolina,” Theo murmured into your hair. You grinned, squeezing him to convey your agreement. 

“Missed you too, Teddy,” you said softly. Theo set you down, giving you the chance to fully examine him. He was wearing a white linen button down and cotton shorts, his usual attire to combat the summer heat. Handsome, but in an effortless sort of way. 

You cocked your head, running your fingers over his chesnut waves, which were now tinged with gold, courtesy of his constant exposure to the sun. “You cut your hair.”

Theo nodded, running a hand through his cropped cut with a self-conscious expression. “I like it,” you said decidedly. “It looks good on you.” 

Satisfaction coursed through you as Theo blushed, his cheeks tinged with pink. It reminded you of the very first time he ever wore his natural waves around you. It was sometime during second year when you both got drenched from the rain at the Black Lake. You ran your hands through his hair, smiling as you told him that you quite preferred his hair that way. Since then, Theo stopped gelling his hair. 

“Big changes this summer,” Theo declared with a wink. Without hesitation, he gathered your suitcases and hauled them along like they weighed nothing. To him, they probably didn’t. You could’ve used his strength when you were struggling to lug your bags through customs. “Speaking of, I finally got my license.” 

Your jaw dropped. Ever since your dad took the two of you out on a joyride in his beloved vintage Mercedes — Mercy, for short — Theo had become obsessed with learning how to drive. You had no interest in it, but your best friend was absolutely adamant. When he put his mind to something, Theo was quite unstoppable. He even managed to convince your dad to give him lessons. Not on his precious Mercy of course, but on the family car. 

“I have no idea why you would want to ride around on a steel trap when there’s a perfectly good tube system at home,” you chided, swatting at your best friend’s arm as he rolled his eyes at your repeated lecture. “But I am proud of you, regardless.” 

“Good, cause I’m about to take you on the joy ride of your life.” 

You halted as Theo bounced past the entrance, walking right up to a very expensive looking vintage sports car. The baby blue top down sparkled in the sunlight and its chrome interior shined so spotlessly that you could see your reflection staring back at you. Theo gingerly arranged your suitcases in the backseat, careful not to disturb the delicate white leather seats. 

“You did not,” you gaped in disbelief. 

Theo only grinned. “I did, too.” 

He rounded the hood and reached over to pull the door open. You turned back, hesitation written all over your face as you surveyed the car. Despite its vintage style, you knew that it would probably be fast. Too fast for your liking. 

“No offense, but are you sure they didn’t make a mistake during your driving test? Maybe they meant to give the license to someone else.” 

You were proud of Theo. Truly, you were. But you had been witness to one too many driving lessons where he accidentally ran over the curb or nearly flipped the car from how fast he turned. Needless to say, it didn’t exactly inspire confidence. 

Your best friend huffed in indignation. “I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent driver. Even my examiner said so.” 

“She should probably get her vision checked, then,” you murmured under your breath.

“I heard that,” Theo stated with narrowed eyes. He ushered you along, herding you into the front seat. “Your lack of confidence in me is quite frankly appalling, fragolina.” 

“It’s not that I’m not confident in you,” you explained as you buckled in. “I’m just not confident that you won’t abuse the poor, defenseless curbs of your homeland.” 

“I promise you, I’ve gotten much better since my last lesson. Now sit back, relax, and feel the beautiful breeze of Italia against your skin.” 

You did no such thing. You spent the first few minutes white-knuckling the seat cushions. Theo, on the other hand, whistled a happy little tune as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. To his credit, his driving seemed to have improved since the last time you witnessed him get behind the wheel. Enough for you to gradually release the chokehold you had on your seat. 

“So, where’s our gracious host? Too busy sipping on limoncellos with pretty stregas to pick up her best friend from the station?” 

Theo’s mouth quirked. “Close. She’s trying to keep Malfoy and Riddle from tearing up the villa. They had a little disagreement about the room assignments. Draco wanted the room facing the east side of the house, for an optimal view of the sunrise.” You snorted at Theo’s overexaggerated snooty impression of your blonde friend. “Of course as soon as he expressed this, Mattheo suddenly wanted it for the same reasons. Never mind that the twat rarely wakes up before noon.” 

“Another lover’s quarrel,” you said rather sarcastically. “What’s new? Hopefully they kiss and make up before we get back.” 

“They’re going to have to,” Theo stated as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not spending my summer holiday listening to those two twats fighting. I did enough of that at school.”

“How strange is it that we’ve graduated? I swear, it feels just like yesterday when we first got onto the Hogwarts Express. Now you’re driving me around the Italian coast and you haven’t hit a single curb. I wonder what other miraculous things the future has in store.”

Theo snorted. “It’s me and you against the world, bella.”

“The way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.” 

The road curved around a hill, providing you with a breathtaking view of the sunny skies and clear blue water glittering below. Despite your teasing, Theo was doing a great job of maneuvering through the narrow path. He was driving slow and steady, giving you enough confidence to lean against the door and peer at the wonders of Vallara. 

Villas with colorful pastel roofs painted the hillside with pops of pinks, greens, and blues, broken up by patches of yellow from the lemon trees swaying in the breeze. The air smelled like sea salt and citrus, mixed in with other delicious smells wafting from the countless restaurants lining the market square. One of them in particular, La Dolce Vita, instantly caught your eye. 

“Should we say hi to nonna?” 

“She’s busy prepping for dinner back at the house. As soon as nonna heard that you were coming, she insisted on making everything herself.” 

“She didn’t have to do that,” you said, smiling fondly in the direction of the restaurant. You adored Theo’s grandmother. She was a strong, loud, and vibrant woman that you’ve admired since you were a little girl. Not to mention, her cooking was to die for. “Although I would kill for her cannolis.” 

“There’s a fresh batch waiting for you in the fridge.” 

Your mouth watered at the thought. “I’m surprised she’s letting us use the villa. I thought we were banned after Mattheo set off those fireworks in fourth year. I’ve never seen nonna that mad.” 

Theo chuckled at the reminder. Thanks to the fire fiasco, the villa had become off limits. Every visit after was to the townhouse in Rome, where she could keep a closer eye on all of you. As beautiful as the city was, you missed the countryside. Life was more peaceful out here — slow and sweet. You were determined to savor every moment before the reality of adult life hit you full force. 

“Pansy can be quite persuasive,” Theo replied. “Plus, she promised to wring Mattheo’s neck herself if he tries to stir up any trouble.” 

“It’s not a matter of if,” you corrected as Theo pulled up to the private road that led to his family’s villa. “It’s a matter of when.” 

Your best friend hummed in approval as the car slowed to a stop. Theo parked his convertible on the driveway and killed the engine as you admired his ancestral home. The quaint country house sat proudly at the top of the hillside, its regal structure looming over the village below. The terracotta roof sloped over the towers jutting out on each side of the massive structure, the seafoam green walls wrapping around the side porch, the rounded arched windows, and the romantic balcony overlooking the blooming garden at the back of the villa. It was just as charming as you remembered. 

“Home sweet home,” you murmured in awe. 

The wonder of this place never grew old. Theo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, hauling your luggage over his shoulder and leading you inside. The sunbaked walls greeted you like an old friend, the sea breeze filling the entire place with the scent of salt and citrus from the large open windows. The furniture was mismatched, but in an endearing way that somehow felt like it all belonged together.

You walked between the arched columns leading into the living room, which were bracketed with wooden banisters that overlooked the entire first floor. The further you ventured, the louder the noises echoed. 

The sunny kitchen seemed to be the center of activity. You peered inside, smiling instantly when you saw the familiar figure hunched over the stove. Nonna whistled as she stirred the pot, the incredible smell of her cooking hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. Her happy tune was interrupted by the bouncing boy beside her and she tutted at Mattheo as he peered over her shoulder. 

“Dio mio, did I not tell you to wait in the living room?” Nonna asked with an exasperated sigh. “You’re making me dizzy with all your bouncing.” 

Mattheo smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, nonna. Everything just smells so good. Are you sure you don't need me to taste test?” 

“You’ll eat when the food is ready,” she huffed in response. Mattheo pouted in disappointment, his gaze darting to the fridge hungrily. “Don’t even think about touching my cannolis. I made those for Y/N especially.”

“If you’re nice, I might share.” 

Nonna grinned as you walked into the kitchen with Theo trailing behind you. She pulled you into a hug, kissing both of your cheeks as you laughed. “Thank God you’re here. This one has been driving me up the wall all afternoon.” Mattheo let out an indignant huff, but nonna ignored him. “Sit, piccolina. I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey. Theo here tells me you visited the States?” 

The way nonna crinkled her nose made you giggle. Like every other sensible European, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anything American. “Yes, I stayed with my cousin in New York for a few weeks. It was a fun time, but I am glad to be back home. I’m afraid their cooking isn’t up to par with yours, nonna.” 

“This is why you’re my favorite,” she chides, pinching your cheeks. “You’re just in luck then. Dinner will be served soon. If you can stomach it after my grandson’s driving.” 

Theo heaved in disapproval, which only made you grin. “It was actually quite a nice drive. The view was stunning and Teddy here managed to get me here in one piece.” 

“I’m glad. Theodore has been talking my ear off about it the whole summer. Nonna, I can’t wait until Y/N gets here. I miss her. Do you think she misses me? I hope she likes my car. Don’t you think she’d look quite pretty in her sundress, sitting in the passenger seat?” 

Mattheo snickered as Theo cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough. We’ll let you get back to your cooking so I can show Y/N to her room, nonna.”

Without another word, Theo wrestled you out of his grandmother’s clutches. Nonna winked at you behind his back, making you giggle. She wasn’t subtle at all about the fact that she wanted you and Theo to be together. Nonna had been hinting at it since you were thirteen. 

You trailed after Theo, noting the blush on his cheeks as he climbed the stairs. “Did I live up to it, then?” 

Theo scrunched his brows, pausing at the top step to allow you to catch up. His long legs always gave him a rather unfair advantage. “Live up to what?” 

“Did I look pretty sitting in your passenger seat in my sundress?” 

“Don’t know,” Theo quipped. “You were too busy gripping the seats for dear life to allow me to make a clear judgment.” You rolled your eyes fondly, which made him chuckle. “I’m kidding. Of course you looked pretty. You always look pretty, Y/N.” 

Now it was your turn to blush. You bit back a smile as Theo ventured down the hallway. 

“I’m still here you know,” you startled at Mattheo’s presence. You nearly forgot that he was following closely behind. “I swear to Merlin, the world could be falling to shit and you two would still be too busy making googly eyes at each other to notice.” 

You rolled your eyes at your curly headed friend. “I’m guessing Dray got the room you wanted based on your grumpy behavior.” Mattheo swatted at your hand when you tried to pinch his cheek. “Don’t worry, Matty. There’s always room in the wine cellar.”

He stuck his tongue out in response, followed by a smirk that you knew meant nothing but trouble. “Oh, I snagged the Rose room.” 

“That’s my favorite room and you know it!” 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. There’s always room in the wine cellar.” You narrowed your eyes before lunging at him. Mattheo laughed maniacally, dodging your grip as he weaved through the second floor. “Guess you and Notty boy are just going to have to double up.” 

The little traitor ran straight into your room — his room now apparently — and slammed the door shut. “What does that mean?” you asked Theo. 

He shrugged. “Probably nothing good, knowing the twat.” 

His suspicions proved to be true when you ran into Draco and Pansy. They both greeted you with hugs, though Draco seemed a little put off. 

“Good, you’re finally here!” Pansy exclaimed, brushing her bangs off of her forehead.

“With no help from you, by the way. You said you were meeting me at the floo station.” 

“I had to take care of a situation. Theo here jumped at the chance to show off his little baby blue convertible and offered to pick you up instead.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s been buzzing since yesterday. I swear, he doesn’t even try to hide his favoritism.” 

“Well, Y/N doesn’t strong arm her way into staying at my family’s villa. Not to mention conspiring with my nonna for god knows what else,” Theo added bitterly. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “So dramatic, Theodore.” She pushed the door open to the main suite, revealing the enormous room. 

The interior was bright and airy. A fresh coat of pastel pink covered the walls, but the ceiling remained a creamy shade of white with the exposed wooden beams giving the room a cozy and rustic feel. A four-poster bed faced the balcony doors, which provided a view of the gardens below. The salty summer breeze rustled the linen curtains, carrying the pleasing scent of honeysuckle and lavender. 

Theo set down your luggage by the tufted velvet sofa. You ventured out through the balcony doors, leaning over the parapet to peer at the pops of pinks, blues, and purples dotting the property. By the poolside, Enzo and Blaise reclined on cushioned chaise lounges, sipping on spritzers and soaking in the sunset. You waved at your friends down below and they returned the gesture, raising their glasses with blissful smiles. 

When you turned back around, you found Pansy fiddling with a flower arrangement. She placed it on the table closest to the balcony, smiling to herself when she finally got the bouquet to look the way she wanted. The stunning view, the luxurious vintage furniture, and the intricate fireplace all felt very romantic. After all, nonna did deem this the honeymoon suite, which made you all the more suspicious of why Pansy was suddenly bunking you up with Theo. 

Before you could question the witch, she turned on her heel and crossed the suite. “I’ll give you two a moment to catch up, but don’t take too long. Dinner will be served in an hour.” Pansy lingered by the door, a dangerous glint sparkling in her eyes as she winked at the two of you. “Enjoy the honeymoon suite.” 

If that wasn’t confirmation that Pansy Parkinson was up to something, then you didn’t know what was. You glared at the dark haired witch, but she seemed oblivious as she skipped off. Probably on her way to meddle in someone else’s business. 

“Well, this was unexpected.” 

“Tell me about it. Now I have to keep my things tidy or else I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“A messy room reflects a messy—”

“Mind,” Theo finished for you as his lips curved into a smile. “I’m well aware, bella. You’ve been saying it since we were ten.” 

“Yet it hasn’t quite sunk in.” 

“You’re just grumpy from international travel. I know what’ll make you feel better though,” Theo announced with a sunny smile as he trotted over to the bathroom. You stared longingly at the amenities, which housed a rain shower head, a tiled bench, and a heart shaped tub. “Hop on in.” 

“Theodore Nott, is this your way of telling me I stink?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” your best friend said with a cheeky little smile. He plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. You smacked him on the arm, which only made him grin even wider. “Will it help if I hopped in with you?” 

A fierce blush crept up to the tips of your ears. “Pervert.” 

“What? We used to take baths together all the time!” 

“Yeah, when we were three.” 

Theo shrugged. “Semantics. I promise not to steal your rubber ducky this time.” 

You groaned in frustration, smacking him once more. “Not a chance in hell.” 

“Are you sure? I’m a very efficient shower buddy. Just ask Mattheo.” 

All the filthy thoughts filtering through your mind only served to make you flush even more. At this rate, your face probably matched your hair. “Get out, Theodore.” 

Theo chuckled as you pushed him out the door. It was a feat in itself given the fact that he towered a good foot over you, but you managed to shove him through the threshold. Your best friend chuckled before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Have a good shower, fragolina,” A devious grin tugged at his lips as he paused. “Try not to think of me while you’re in there.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the words had already planted a very dangerous seed in your mind. As you stepped into the shower, you were ashamed to say that you failed Theo’s challenge. 

This bloody honeymoon suite would be the death of you. 

A wave of nostalgia hit you full force as you made your way down the stairs. In the dining room, your friends sat around the large mahogany table chatting and drinking. You exchanged a cheek kiss with Blaise and ruffled Enzo’s hair before making your way over to your usual spot. Theo grinned up at you and patted the seat next to him. 

“How was your shower?” 

“Fine,” you answered robotically. “Great. Uneventful.” 

Theo didn’t miss the way your eye twitched. The twat actually smirked. “I don’t know about that, bella. You sound a little tense. Should’ve taken me up on the offer. I would’ve been more than happy to throw in a complimentary massage. If you asked real nicely.” 

You flushed, crossing your arms. “I’d sooner invite Mattheo to shower with me than ask you for a massage.” 

Mattheo’s curly head perked up from across the table. “Oh?” Much to Theo’s annoyance, his best friend wiggled his brows and winked at you. “Finally tired of Notty boi, huh? You want a dose of Riddle, babe?” 

Before you could deign to respond, Nonna swatted the back of Mattheo’s head. He protested, but she showed no signs of remorse as she took a seat at the head of the table. 

“Do not ruin my appetite, Mattheo.” Nonna scolded. “Now be a dear and pass the lasagna. I didn’t slave away in the kitchen for hours just to listen to your lecherous comments.” 

At Mattheo’s defeated expression, you and Theo tried and failed in keeping in your laughter. Riddle glared at the two of you, but resigned himself to following Nonna’s orders. As your friends piled pasta onto their plates, a bittersweet feeling rushed through you. 

The people seated at this table had been an integral part of your life for as long as you could remember. Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Draco, Mattheo, and Theo had always been just a couple of steps away, but now that you had all graduated, the seven of you would be scattered in different places. It made your heart ache just thinking about it. 

“We still have the whole summer,” Theo whispered softly. He nudged his knee against yours under the table. The familiarity of the gesture brought you comfort. It never ceased to amaze you just how well Theo knew you. 

“And the rest of your lives if I have anything to say about it,” said nonna as she filled your glass with red wine. “Smettila di fare il codardo, nipote.”

Theo groaned. You understood enough Italian to know that nonna was pushing her agenda again. “Not this again, nonna.” 

“I will not stop until you get it through your thick skull, Theodore.” 

As nonna launched into a full on lecture in her native language, you grinned in amusement at your best friend. Theo sulked like a child, but his expression brightened as you knocked your knee against his. 

After dinner, you spent the rest of the night camped out on the terrace. The view was stunning as the sun set over the horizon, tinging the villa in technicolor. Your friends gathered around the fire pit, sipping sangria and playing games. As usual, the boys found themselves a few galleons lighter after you swindled them during wizard poker. One would think that they’d learn their lesson by now, but your friends were still determined on risking their fortune against you. 

All except Theo. 

Knowing that his own mother passed down her skills of deception to you, Theo knew better than to challenge you. Instead, he sat back and watched the boys lose with a smile on his face. When you claimed your winnings, he beckoned you under the blanket and handed you another glass of wine. Though you could’ve easily blamed the sudden warmth on the charmed knit throw or the fine vintage, you had a feeling that the heat had more to do with your proximity to Theo. 

The scent of citrus and tobacco overwhelmed your senses as your best friend draped an arm over your shoulder. “Gonna share your prize with me, bella?” 

“Seeing as you did nothing to help me, I’m inclined to say no.” 

“Of course I helped. I pulled a vintage from the cellar so these idiots would keep playing even though they don’t stand a chance against you.” 

You chuckled. “Wine or not, they would’ve lost to me either way.” 

“Fine,” Theo said with a dramatic sigh. He pulled you to his side and kissed your temple “Keep your prize. I’ve already won anyways.”��

“You’re awfully sentimental tonight, aren’t you, Teddy?” 

“What can I say?” Theo mused, his blue eyes piercing into you. “This place brings it out of me. This country, this villa, it’s full of possibilities. Anything can happen here.” 

The heat of his gaze seared your skin, but you didn’t look away. A charge of electricity crackled in the air as if in confirmation of your best friend’s statement. 

Anything can happen here.

[satellite-evans]

Look at the stars

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his Y/N spend a joyful day picnicking and stargazing with their children <3

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: tooth aching fluff

A/N:

This was a request from @pear-1206 , I hope I did your request justice, love xx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The sun was warm and golden, casting a gentle glow over the lush countryside. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birds chirping merrily. It was the perfect day for a picnic, and Benedict Bridgerton couldn't have been happier to spend it with his wife and children.

Benedict and Y/N had always shared a mutual disdain for the relentless scrutiny of society. From the moment they met, they found solace in each other's company, both preferring the quiet beauty of nature and the simplicity of family life over the pomp and circumstance of high society. Benedict was hopelessly devoted to Y/N, captivated by her spirit and the way she saw the world. She had a way of grounding him, reminding him of what truly mattered.

Today, they had chosen a secluded spot in the picturesque countryside of Kent, a place far enough from their estate to ensure complete privacy. Nestled under the shade of an ancient oak tree, the spot offered a breathtaking view of rolling hills and a gently flowing brook nearby. The grassy field stretched out before them, a sea of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Their children, a boisterous five-year-old boy named Thomas and a giggling two-year-old girl named Violet, were already darting about, chasing butterflies and exploring the wonders of nature.

"Thomas, be careful!" Y/N called out, laughing as their son sprinted after a particularly fast butterfly, his little legs pumping furiously. He stumbled over a small mound of earth but quickly picked himself up, his laughter ringing out across the field. He waved back at his parents with a wide grin, dirt smudging his cheeks.

She turned to Benedict, her eyes sparkling with joy and a hint of motherly concern. "He's going to wear himself out before we've even unpacked the basket."

Benedict smiled, his heart swelling with love as he watched his family. "Let him. It's good for him to have space to run and play." He set down the picnic basket and spread out the blanket, patting the spot next to him. "Come, love. Sit with me."

Y/N joined him, resting her head on his shoulder as they unpacked the basket together. They had prepared all of their favorite foods: fresh sandwiches with a variety of fillings, ripe strawberries, an assortment of cheeses and crackers, a freshly baked loaf of bread, and, of course, a bottle of fine wine. Benedict carefully laid out each item, ensuring everything was in easy reach for their little picnic.

"I can't believe you managed to pack all of our favorites," Y/N said, smiling as she unwrapped a loaf of bread still warm from the oven. "It's like you read my mind."

Benedict chuckled, leaning in to kiss her temple. "I had a little help from our cook, but I wanted today to be perfect for you and the children."

Violet toddled over, her tiny hands reaching for a strawberry, and Benedict handed one to her, laughing as she eagerly bit into it, the juice dribbling down her chin. "Delicious, isn't it, my sweet?" he asked, wiping her chin with a napkin.

Violet nodded, her eyes wide with delight. "More, Papa!" she demanded, holding out her hand for another strawberry.

Benedict obliged, giving her another juicy berry. "Here you go, darling. Enjoy."

Thomas ran back to the blanket, breathless from his adventures. "Mama, Papa, look!" He opened his little fist to reveal a handful of wildflowers. "I picked these for you, Mama."

Y/N's eyes softened as she took the flowers from Thomas. "They're beautiful, Thomas. Thank you." She arranged them into a small bouquet and placed them in a little jar they had brought along. "They add the perfect touch to our picnic."

Thomas grinned, proud of his contribution. "Can we eat now, Papa? I'm starving!"

Benedict laughed, ruffling Thomas's hair. "Of course, my boy. Let's see what we have here." He handed Thomas a sandwich, watching as his son eagerly took a bite.

Y/N began to serve the cheese and crackers, arranging them on a plate. "This cheese is from that little shop in town, isn't it?" she asked, recognizing the distinct aroma.

"Indeed it is," Benedict replied. "I know how much you like it."

She smiled warmly at him. "You always remember the little things."

As they ate, they talked and laughed, sharing stories and memories. Y/N recounted a humorous incident from their last family outing, making Benedict chuckle. "I still can't believe you managed to get us lost in our own backyard," she teased.

Benedict shook his head, a mock expression of horror on his face. "I maintain that it was all part of the adventure."

Thomas piped up, his mouth full of sandwich. "Papa, are we going to play tag later? I want to show you how fast I can run!"

Benedict nodded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Absolutely. But be warned, Thomas, I’ve been practicing my tag skills. You might not be able to catch me."

Thomas giggled, clearly relishing the challenge. "We'll see about that!"

Violet, not wanting to be left out, clapped her hands and babbled excitedly. "Tag! Tag!"

Y/N laughed, her heart full. "Looks like you have two little competitors, Benedict."

After they finished eating, they played a spirited game of tag. Benedict and Y/N took turns chasing the children, their laughter echoing across the field. Thomas was a blur of motion, his little legs pumping as he dodged and weaved, while Violet toddled around, giggling whenever someone pretended to catch her.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape, they gathered up their things and made their way back home. After a quick supper and baths for the children, they all headed outside again, this time with a blanket and pillows to lie on as they stargazed.

Benedict carried a sleepy Violet in one arm and a basket with their essentials in the other. "Do you think the stars are brighter tonight, or is it just me?" he mused aloud, looking up at the clear night sky.

Y/N smiled, holding Thomas's hand as he skipped alongside her. "Maybe they're shining just for us," she replied, her voice filled with contentment.

The night sky was clear, a tapestry of stars twinkling above them. They spread out the blanket on the grassy hill behind their home, arranging the pillows for comfort. Thomas immediately lay down, pointing up at the sky with excitement.

"Look, Papa! I see the Big Dipper!" he exclaimed, his small finger tracing the constellation.

Benedict chuckled, lying down next to him. "That's right, Thomas. And do you see that bright star over there? That's the North Star. Sailors used to navigate by it."

Thomas's eyes widened with fascination. "Did they use wishing stones too, Papa?"

Y/N laughed, settling Violet in her lap. "I think they relied more on maps and compasses, love. But a wishing stone could come in handy in a pinch."

Violet, still clutching her pebble, looked up at the sky with wide eyes. "Stars! Pretty!"

Benedict pointed out another constellation, his voice a soothing rumble in the stillness of the night. "There's Orion," he said, tracing the shape with his finger. "And over there is the Great Bear."

Thomas stared up in wonder, his small hand clutching the wishing stone. "Can I make my wish now, Papa?"

Benedict nodded, his eyes meeting Y/N's. "Go ahead, son."

Thomas closed his eyes, whispering his wish softly. When he finished, he placed the stone on his chest and sighed contentedly. "Your turn, Mama."

Y/N closed her eyes, holding Benedict's hand as she made her wish. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, her heart full. "Your turn, my love."

Benedict took the stone, closing his eyes. He didn't need to wish for anything; everything he had ever wanted was right here with him. But for the sake of tradition, he made a wish anyway: for endless days like this, filled with love and laughter.

Thomas squirmed, curious. "What did you wish for, Papa?"

Benedict grinned, ruffling his son's hair. "If I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

Thomas pouted playfully. "That's not fair! I bet you wished for more wishing stones."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Knowing your father, he probably wished for more of your mama's cooking."

Violet clapped her hands, clearly enjoying the banter. "Wish! Wish!"

Benedict leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I actually wished for moments like this to last forever."

She rested her head on his shoulder, her voice soft. "I love you, Benedict Bridgerton."

He kissed her forehead, his heart overflowing with happiness. "And I love you, Y/N Bridgerton. Always."

Thomas, ever the inquisitive one, looked between his parents. "Does that mean you wished for more picnics and stargazing, Papa?"

Benedict chuckled. "Something like that, Thomas. I wished for more time with my favorite people."

Thomas grinned, satisfied with that answer. "I like that wish."

Under the vast, starlit sky, surrounded by the warmth of their family, they knew they had everything they could ever need. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, and as they drifted off to sleep, they dreamed of many more days just like this. The gentle sounds of the night filled the air, and the stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, as if in agreement with Benedict's silent wish.

[mistydeyes]

This is my first time doing this!!!!! can you please do 141 with a rich reader! Like she buys them cars,supplies,homes,etc but not in a sugar momma way like “ I’m make money……..and my love language is gift giving” like imagine them walking into her house mansion and is like “this is 10 times bigger than my flat building” and she’s like “oh shush….besides this is your home now” or when she picks them up to go to the pub she pulls up in their dream car and their like “love your car” she like “it’s yours” and throws the key. And when they give her gifts she ADORES them (it’s some purfum she likes) she’s just loves spoiling her baby and they don’t know how handle Being so special! CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE A REACT ON THIS ITS BEEN ROTTING MY MIND

hehe thank you so much for requesting! we love expensive taste and a woman who's love language is gift gifting!!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: When the 141 met you, they had no idea what kind of life you came from. However from extravagant vacations to luxury vehicles, you make sure to treat your man right.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

Looking at John, you can tell he enjoys the more expensive taste in things. Holidays are always a joy for you both as you spend your hard-earned salary on practical yet extravagant gifts. For your anniversary, you wanted to impress. Earlier in the year for your birthday, he had gotten you a bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 and you were over the moon. It had it's own shelf in your home and he always made sure to compliment the rich, sultry scent when you wore it. This inspired you as you dragged John to the bright red building in Grasse. You had spent the last week in the south of France, seeing the sights and enjoying the extravagance of wine and pastries. He had been wondering where you were going as you maneuvered through the streets and eventually walked up the path. "This is the final part of a French tour," you smiled as you entered, "a perfume-making class!" As he chuckled at the idea, you checked yourselves in with the minimal amount of French you knew. "What made you pick this?" he asked as you waited for your perfume instructor. You looked around at the various creations and bottles that glistened in the afternoon sun. "You always talk about wanting to find the perfect scent," you commented, "especially when you have one of your fancy military balls or ceremonies." He nodded as he cozied himself onto the leather couch. "Well looks like this is the perfect place to do so," he smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to pick an expensive-smelling one for my luxurious husband."

soap

"This can't be right," Johnny mumbled as he arrived at your address. You told him you lived in the English countryside and he expected a cottage fit for a granny. He was not expecting a castle that looked like it stretched various football fields. The exterior was extravagant and he was calculating the price of your marbled columns before you opened the door. "Johnny, a pleasure to have you," you smiled as you let him into the foyer. He took a minute to look at the not one but two staircases you had leading to the upper floor. Furthermore, the interior looked like a smaller version of Versailles. He thought he knew luxury when he saw Price's flat but that was a shoe closet compared to this. "Are you alright?" you questioned, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You live here?" he asked and gasped at the way his voice echoed amongst the mansion. You laughed for a moment before looking back up at him. "Yes, I do," you replied as if it was a silly question, "it's quite nice." He turned back to you with a shocked face. "This is more than nice," he said, gesturing to your extravagant home, "I was not picturing this during the drive." You blushed a little at the realization that this wasn't the typical home he had been accustomed to. "Well do you want a house tour?" you offered and he immediately took the offer, "let's start with the first library." "There's multiple?"

gaz

Kyle looked at his watch as he wondered where you were. "The missus running late?" Price asked as he searched for his car keys. "Probably had a meeting or something," Kyle said, looking back down at his phone, "perks of dating a CEO I guess." Just as Price offered him a ride, a silver Rolls-Royce Spectre came revving in front of the two awe-struck men. "Sorry I'm late boys," you said as you got out, "hope Kyle stayed out of trouble long enough, John." "He's a good one, Y/N," Price replied as he gave you a quick hug. He smiled back at you before waving off and walking over to his own vehicle. "This a new company car?" Kyle asked as he examined the pristine exterior and the practically silent hum of the EV engine. You had a small smile on your face as he tapped the front of the car and looked into the windows. "It's new but definitely not company-issued," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his torso. "Didn't think you needed a new car," he continued and the suspense was killing you. As you opened the car door and sat in the red leather passenger seat, Kyle looked at you dumbfounded. "You want me to drive?" he questioned as he moved the seat back into a comfortable position. "Of course, babes," you said, practically bursting with happiness, "you should drive your own car home." There was a brief moment of mixed screaming and excitement as he realized this was his. Once he was finished (and you stopped laughing), you turned on the seat warmers. "Go ahead," you smiled, "take us home in your new toy."

ghost

Simon was never one to gorge himself on the finer things in life. He would save 80% of his paycheck and spend the rest at the grocer's or off-license. He often would have to hold you back from ordering items for him or buying something at Armani on a whim. "Return it." you could hear Simon say behind you and you sheepishly closed your laptop as you knew you had been caught. "You need new jeans though," you tried to convince him but he shook his head. "I could get a pair of Wranglers for less than £47.50 on sale," he responded and that's how most conversations ended. However, you had spent your time finding him an expensive gift that you knew he would value. "What's this?" Simon asked as you pushed over a small parcel. "I know you don't celebrate your birthday but I got you something," you smiled before sitting down with him on the couch. He shook his head as he ripped open the packaging. Inside was a small box that depicted a pair of sturdy-looking earplugs. "For when you exercise or go on runs," you commented, "they're Beats Fit Pro." He opened up the box and you watched as he adjusted them into his ear. "You know I can just use those wired ones," he said before trying them out. You shook his head as he admired the noise-canceling quality. He was enjoying the gift no matter how much he said it was unnecessary. "Well if you don't like them I can always return them," you joked, reaching your hand across the couch to get them before he pulled it away, "yeah, that's what I thought."

[chestersturniolo]

𝙁𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

In which; You and your boyfriend Chris escape to the English countryside

based on this request

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

You and Chris had been planning this countryside getaway for what felt like ages. Between the chaos of everyday life and your never-ending schedules, a break in the peaceful English countryside seemed like the perfect way to slow down, reconnect, and enjoy some much-needed time together.

As soon as you arrived, the air felt different. crisper, lighter. The cottage you’d rented was tucked away among green hills, surrounded by trees and pastures. It looked like something out of a storybook, with ivy creeping up the stone walls and a little wooden gate. You could hardly believe it was real.

Chris, with his usual playful grin, wrapped his arms around you from behind as you stood at the cottage door. “Welcome home” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder.

The first evening was pure magic. After settling in, you both decided to explore the nearby village. Hand in hand, you strolled through cobblestone streets, admiring the old stone houses with thatched roofs. Chris found a tiny bakery, where he insisted on getting freshly baked scones for later. “it’s traditional shit ma, we have to!”

Later, back at the cottage, Chris lit a fire in the open fireplace, and the two of you curled up infront of it on the floor. You were wrapped in a thick wool blanket, your head resting against Chris’s chest as you watched the flames dance. The scones were even better than you had expected, and Chris had laughed at you when you got a bit of clotted cream on your nose, before kissing it away.

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

The next day was just as dreamy. You woke up to crisp air flowing through the cottage windows, the sound of birds chirping in the distance. Chris had already slipped out of bed, as you go to find him, he was busy making breakfast in the little kitchen. His hair was a little tousled, and his sleepy smile was so endearing that you almost melted on the spot.

After breakfast, you ventured out for a long walk through the countryside. The path wound through fields dotted with grazing sheep and little streams that glittered in tthe sunlight. You laughed as Chris tried to get a selfie with a sheep that seemed less than interested. At one point, he pulled you into his arms and spun you around, making you both dizzy with laughter. It was the kind of carefree joy you hadn’t felt in so long.

That afternoon, you found a hidden spot by a small lake. The water was so still it looked like glass, reflecting the sky and the trees around you. You both lay on the grass, staring up at the clouds, making silly guesses about their shapes. Chris’s fingers laced with yours, and for a while, neither of you said a word. There was no need to. The peace and quiet were enough.

As the sun began to set, the golden hour light beaming,, Chris pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “This is so perfect” he murmured softly. You smiled, feeling the same. It was like the world had paused, and all that mattered was the two of you in this beautiful, peaceful place.

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

The next few days unfolded like something out of a movie. You and Chris had no real plans, which made it all the more perfect. you just woke up each morning and decided to let the day take you wherever it wanted.

One morning, you both slept in late, the rain pitter pattering on the window, soothing you both. It was one of those cozy, lazy mornings where you didn’t rush to do anything. Chris woke first,, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen. When you finally dragged yourself out of bed, you found him by the window, staring out at the mist that had settled over the hills.

“How about we take the car out for a drive?” he suggested.

So, off you went, winding through narrow country lanes that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere all at once. The mist hovered on the fields and hillsides, creating an atmosphere that made everything feel…unreal. You discovered a little town that wasn’t on any of the maps-a collection of a few cottages, a small pub, and a tiny antique shop.

The antique shop was run by an elderly couple who greeted you like you were old friends. You and Chris spent hours browsing through trinkets, from old clocks to worn-out novels. Chris found a little porcelain figurine of a sheep and jokingly declared it your “trip mascot” buying it on the spot. You couldnt help but laugh, especially when he later perched it on the dashboard of the car like a prized treasure

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

Another day, the rain had cleared. You packed a simple picnic-sandwiches, fruit, and a bottle of pressed apple juice you’d picked up from the village-and walked to the top of a nearby hill. The view from there was breathtaking,,miles and miles of green. You spread out a blanket, sat down together, and just soaked it all in.

Chris laid back with his head in your lap, his eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the calm settle in around you. After the picnic, Chris pulled you up and insisted on a race down the hill. You both tumbled through the grass, laughing breathlessly by the time you reached the bottom. You collapsed next to each other, your hearts racing as you cackled like idiots.

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

The next day, you decided to take a long bike ride through the countryside. You rented two old-fashioned bikes from a nearby farm and pedaled through fields and along narrow trails, the wind making your hair tangle slightly. You stopped at a farmshop where they sold fresh strawberries, and you both sat on a wooden bench under an oak tree, sharing fruit while Chris made ridiculous jokes that left you in stitches.

On the way back, you found a crystal clear stream that run through the woods. You both took off your shoes and paddled in, the water refreshing. Chris, always the goofball, splashed you until you were both soaked and laughing uncontrollably. When you got back to the cottage, you both shared a candle lit bath in the old fashioned tub, talking about your day in whispers. You then got into dry clothes and made hot chocolate, curling up together in front of the fireplace once again.

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

The morning of your final full day arrived. You woke to the birds chirping again, and the distant sound of cows mooing in the fields. Chris was already awake, quietly moving around the kitchen. The smell of coffee wafted through the cottage, and you smiled sleepily, stretching beneath the warm covers.

“Good morning, sleepyhead” Chris greeted you with a grin as you wandered in, still wrapped in the blanket. He handed you a steaming mug and kissed the top of your head. “I was thinking… what if we spent the whole day doing nothing but indulging ourselves?”

You raised an eyebrow “Indulging how?”

“Well, we’ve done so much exploring. How about today, we slow down? Like,lazy breakfast, maybe a visit to that little local spa I read about. Then dinner at the pub we saw down the road?”

The idea of a totally relaxed day sounded perfect. So, that’s exactly what you did. The breakfast Chris made was simple, you ate slowly, and the two of you lingered over breakfast, chatting about everything and nothing. Time felt like it didn’t exist here, and you loved it.

After breakfast, you headed to the small, rustic spa Chris had found. It was nestled in the middle of the countryside, surrounded by greenery and overlooking a peaceful pond. You were greeted with herbal teas and led into a cozy room with next to no lighting and music playing lightly in the background. You both opted for massages, and as you lay there,, the last bits of tension from city life completely faded. Chris smiled at you from the next table, his eyes half-closed in complete relaxation.

“Best decision ever” he whispered, and you couldnt agree more

After the spa, you returned to the cottage for an afternoon nap. The warm air drifting through the open windows as you lay in bed together, your head on chris’ chest as he pulls you impossibly close.

In the late afternoon you both wake before getting ready to go for food . You walked hand in hand to the local pub-a small, ivy-covered building with low ceilings and a crackling fire inside. The owner, a cheerful older man with a thick Yorkshire accent, welcomed you both warmly and showed you to a cozy table near the window.

The food was hearty and traditional. You shared fish and chips, a steak and ale pie, and a sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Between bites, you talked about everything you loved about this trip, laughing over the silly moments and cherishing the quiet ones. Outside, the sun started to set, and you could hear the distant chatter of locals enjoying their evening through the cracked window beside you.

After dinner, you took a slow walk back to the cottage under a sky filled with stars. The air was cool, but Chris pulled you close, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you strolled along the quiet road. The stars above seemed brighter here, clearer, as though you could reach up and touch them. You stopped for a moment to take it all in-this peaceful night, the warmth of Chris by your side.

“I never want this to end” you whispered

Chris smiled, pulling you even closer. “It doesn’t have to y’know. We’ll make more memories like this” he assures.

Back at the cottage, you lit a few candles and sat out on the small terrace, wrapped in blankets. Chris poured you both a glass of wine, and you spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing under the stars. The night felt endless in the best way, a perfect end to a day of pure bliss.

As the stars twinkled above, Chris leaned in, “I’m so glad we came here” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. You smiled, knowing that this trip had been more than just a getaway. It had been a beautiful pause, a chance to savor everything that really mattered. Eachother.

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning , it’s was time you had to pack up and head back home, neither of you really wanted to leave. But as Chris squeezed your hand and promised, “We’ll come back. Maybe even make this a tradition” you couldn’t help but smile. The countryside had given you something special,,memories that you knew you’d carry with you forever.

And as you drove away, the cottage growing smaller in the distance, you felt content, knowing that the best part of the trip hadn’t really been the place, but simply being with Chris.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

a/n; thankyou so much for this request anon ilysm!! as an english girly i was in my ELEMENT writing this😭 imagining chris in settings close to home was so sososo fun (i need it badddd). hope you enjoyed guys!!!

love yallll

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh

@phone4pills @demzzz @sturniooolos

@monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 @brianna-grace12

@blahbel668

@stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i

@starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274

@chriseatingmeoutin4k @slvttie-zx

@bbybloop @sturnn372 @chrissturnsss @slut4m4tt @izzylovesmatt @spideylovin

@sturniolossss @sturniolofannnforevver @zariyam @r0s3luvr

@sturniolosluttt

[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Moving Home

Requested: yes

Prompt: Moving in with Lando x

Warnings: nope

Lando gazed at the picturesque English countryside as they walked hand in hand up the pebbled driveway. The prospect of moving back to England with his girlfriend, Y/n, was an exciting one. He had missed the rolling hills and the vibrant culture and in all honesty, Monaco had gotten been a bit boring after a while. He remember how he tried convincing Y/n to just move to Monaco and not worry about uni since he said he would take care of her forever, but she was not going to just give up on university that easily.

As they approached a house with a "For Sale" sign, Lando couldn't help but feel a spark of anticipation. The real estate agent, a friendly man named James, greeted them with a warm smile. "Hello there! You must be Lando and Y/n. Very lovely to meet you." James said, shaking their hands. Lando smiled. "Nice to meet you, James. We're looking forward to finding the perfect place." He said, holding his hand out for Y/n to take. "Well, hopefully this is it. It's truly a remarkable house." James saud as he led them inside the house, a grand property with a spacious garden and elegant architecture. As they explored the rooms, Y/n's eyes lit up at the features that matched her wishlist.

"I'll let you both have a look around yourselves. I just need to make a call." James said before leaving the room. "This is beautiful, but-" Y/n hesitated, glancing at Lando with concern. "It's quite expensive, isn't it? Almost 4 million pounds." Lando squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, love. I want us to have the best. I'll take care of it." Y/n smiled, feeling a wave of warmth. "You're sure? It won't be too much will it?" Lando laughed. "Darling, I got paid 20 million last year. This place is not not much." They continued the tour, discussing how they would decorate each room and imagining their life in this idyllic setting.

Over tea in the cozy kitchen, they finalized their decision. Lando looked at Y/n with determination. "This is the one. I want you to be happy, and if it means a beautiful home in England, then it's worth every penny." Y/n's eyes shimmered with gratitude as they held each9thwrs hand on the table. "Perfect, I can get a payment plan started out for you if you'd like and then-"

"No, no, I have the money just tell me when you want it and I'll send it on over." The dealer was gobsmacked. He didn't exactly know how to react to this 24 year old saying he can just pay off his house whenever it is needed. "I mean, whenever you'd like to move in." Lando nodded. "Let me call my bank and I'll have the money sent over." Lando stood up, smoothenlling out his shirt and shaking hands with James. "Please doing business." Jame said. "I will call you to finalise everything." Lando placed his hand behind Y/n. "Of course, we'll be in touch."

A matter of weeks later, Lando and Y/n shared laughter as they tackled the mountain of boxes in their new home. "I hope our furniture isn't lost in this bloody cardboard." Lando quipped, holding up a lampshade. Y/n chuckled, setting a box down. "Well, at least we'll have a well-lit maze." Lando plopped down onto the sofa, completely exhausted from hoisting boxes around everywhere. "You okay?" Y/n asked sitting beside him. "Just tired. I honestly thought being a racing driver would prepare me for this, but these boxes are giving me a headache." Y/n leaned on his shoulder. "Well, maybe if you drove as fast as you unpack, we'd be done by now."

"Rude."

[abostongirlinkentucky]

If I ever hit the lottery...

oh to live in a secluded little cottage with a pretty garden somewhere in the countryside

(via)

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Living with Alfie Solomons

Warnings: Fluff, angst, references to religion and violence.

Domestic Alfie Headcanons

Alfie owns many different properties all over London and Margate. To your shock, only two were in Camden. One was what you could only describe as a “bachelor’s apartment,” which strongly resembled his office with the addition of a lumpy mattress. He took you to see what he considers his “home,” a one-story brick house surrounded by the lush green of the English countryside. Alfie had built this home after deciding, “Me and stairs, right, we ain’t made for each other.” The home also comes with a sweet little guesthouse behind it for his mother to live in. At which point he had a short rant about how his aging mother refuses to move in and still lives in her tiny flat in Camden. 

When he’s not being a “baker,” he does like to do some baking. Real baking. Bread, pudding, cake, pies, you name it. He likes having to measure his ingredients, put on the perfect temperature for the perfect amount of time. He likes to collect cookbooks too, and will have a gleam of almost childlike delight when he finds one he doesn’t already possess. 

Alfie has a tendency to develop very strong interest in a very specific thing and then drop it months later. He retains all he’s learned from it, but it can be a bit annoying as he will fill the house with his latest obsession. A short list of obsessions he’s developed are: American cowboys, jewelry making, stamps, coin collecting, eastern meditation practices, and Italian opera. 

You had to get used to his slight OCD involving things in his home. Everything has a place, and he gets very grumpy if you move something, a spoon for instance, and he can’t immediately find it. 

Children in the neighborhood are equal parts frightened and delighted by Alfie. They think he’s funny but intimidating. He gives out money and gifts to the Jewish families of Camden, and the children know that. Your dear man will huff and puff about the kids bothering him… but also throw them a coin or a sweet when he’s in the mood. Alfie is sort of like Santa Claus and the Boogeyman at the same time to them. After you started living with him, these children started to follow you around the neighborhood to ask questions about him. Some are quite tame, like “Does Mr. Solomons like cake?” or “Is Mr. Solomons your husband? Will you have lots of children?” while others are, “Did Mr. Solomons kidnap you?”

Relationship Headcanons

Mr. Solomons is quiet in his moments of romance with you. He likes to cup your cheek in his palm and touch his forehead to yours. Trace your face with his thumb as if to memorize it by touch. He places slow kisses on your cheeks and lips, gentle and almost reverent. His world is very brutal and without loyalty, you become his sanctuary. He sleeps best with you in his arms or laying directly on top of him. If you need to get up for any reason, expect a lot of complaining in at least three different languages from Alfie. He hates to be left alone in bed now that he’s had you. 

Thomas Shelby had no idea Alfie was married, until Alfie felt like telling him. Tommy now knows far too much about you. And you know far too much about Thomas Shelby. The first time you meet in person is very awkward.

Alfie is the sort of person that likes quality time and good conversation. He likes to go on strolls with you on the beach of Margate when his knee isn’t too painful. Going to the museum or a library are all tip-top dates in Alfie’s opinion. However, his favorite place to take you is back home. Home is where he can make you dinner and listen to you laugh at his strange stories. He loves to banter and bicker with you. You are one of the few people to make him laugh. Everyone at the port knows when Alfie’s had a nice evening with you because he comes to work in such a grand mood. Newer employees have to be warned not to get too comfortable, as he could come in like a bull if you argued that morning. 

He has a bad habit of dropping surprises on you. These surprises normally revolve around security and protection. Alfie will buy or arrange things for you and then completely forget he did it until you storm into his office asking for an explanation. For some reason, this man won’t admit these things are for self-defense. He just acts like it’s perfectly normal to take your lover out to a gun range or teach her how to stab a man between the ribs. He’s just being a fun, quirky man! 

A marriage proposal is never far off, he’s just waiting for you to convert. If you do not want to convert, prepare to be a secret. He is a religious man and he treasures his faith. Alfie will never forsake you (though he may jest) for not believing what he believes. His reason for hiding you is simple, his mother. Mrs. Solomons wouldn’t speak to her son if she found out he was living with an unwed gentile! 

That said, Mrs. Solomons adores you before and after you marry her son. She’s a delightful old Russian woman who is constantly ordering Alfie around. Mainly, she tells him he glares too much, and he needs to give her a grandchild soon. 

You were surprised by how touchy he is behind closed doors. In public, you could pass for an employee with how distant he is before marriage. After marriage, he likes to walk with arms linked. As a married couple, it is more appropriate to be seen touching each other and he takes full advantage of it. As a matter of fact, he’s almost clingy. He’ll call the house from his office and make up an excuse to talk to you. 

[lostloveletters]

Give Me Shelter, The Night Is Dark (Vampire!Michael Corleone x Reader)

Summary: Local superstition and a reclusive man offer you refuge when your parents grievously misstep in Sicily, putting your life in danger in more ways than one.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This incredibly self-indulgent gothic romance-esque idea came to me while I was half-asleep, and the time period is intentionally vague, but it’s not a modern setting (here's a little aesthetic tag for this fic). Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Major canon divergence. Canon-typical violence. Emotional manipulation. Vampirism, including non-consensual blood drinking and compulsion (in the context of it being an ability vampires possess and can use on humans). Sexually explicit content involving elements of bloodplay. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

You couldn’t remember what had brought your family to the village of Corleone, only that your father had promised you and your mother an extravagant Sicilian vacation. Three days of beachside paradise in Mondello, eating fresh seafood cooked to perfection and entertaining the antics of handsome men with scars that stood out like bolts of lightning against their tanned skin were hardly enough to sate your voracious appetite for the weeks of bliss you were promised. 

Despite your attempts at bargaining to stay in Palermo on your own, your mother refused, insisting she’d be better off throwing you into shark-infested waters than alone with the men who came calling to your hotel. Some days of travel through the breathtaking Sicilian countryside later, you and your parents arrived in Corleone, a village that appeared all but frozen in time, as if decades had passed it by with no one any the wiser. 

To your dismay, you found the selection of eligible men to spend your time with far more limited than in Palermo. The working young men were too tired from their labor in the fields or their trades to engage in foolish antics with a vacationing foreigner. The rest were mafiosi, as you gathered from the veiled comments and numerous euphemisms the older villagers used. 

These elderly became your companions during your stay in Corleone, talking wildly with their weathered hands over coffee or wine. Filomena, a woman of nearly eighty years and fluent in English, lived in the house next to the one your family was renting. Her husband Gianni only left the house if absolutely necessary, and she considered him a burdensome hermit. Each morning, she fetched you to accompany her into town. Some days, you’d do little else than sit outside of a cafe on the sleepy main street, eating and drinking and gossiping. 

Your Sicilian improved immensely in the near month you kept up with their chatter. Those women always had their ears to the ground, as far as knowing more about your father’s business in Corleone than you did. The vacation he promised you was little more than a gesture of confidence toward Don Manusco, a man notoriously difficult to meet directly with. That your father achieved this naturally generated interest in the village, as no one knew of him. When pressed for more information about your own family’s line of work, you answered what you knew, that your father invested, mostly in stocks, but occasionally in new business ventures. 

You were privy to little else, much to the disappointment of your companions, who moved onto other topics of discussion. One woman’s son sought work in Milan and within three months of getting hired at a factory, married a Northerner, much to her displeasure. In contrast, Filomena’s daughter was cloistered elsewhere in the countryside, preparing to take her vows and become a nun. 

Their superstitions, however, intrigued you most of all. A curse and blessing existed for nearly every conceivable situation. The most striking tale they spun regarded an abandoned villa about a mile past the rental house. Foreboding and hostile, its faded facade peeking out from thorny vines, it was once the envy of the village. At one point in time, though no one could agree quite when, the Don of another family lived there. He took in a strange young man, reclusive yet polite, wandering the countryside with two armed shepherds as bodyguards. He married a local girl, but the marriage ended tragically soon after the wedding. In a sudden blaze of fire and betrayal, she was killed. The strange man vanished not long after, and anyone associated with the villa—including the old Don Tomassino—were soon found dead or had disappeared altogether. Thus, no one dared approach it for fear of the curse surely cast upon the place.

Some of the gruesome murders in the vicinity of the villa could have been attributed to the tradition of violence Don Manusco carried on following Don Tomassino’s death. It didn’t explain the livestock dying of unusual causes, an older woman interjected. Even the land surrounding it was cursed, and the local shepherds knew better than to let their flocks graze nearby, explaining the abnormally tall grass and overgrown foliage that surrounded the villa.

Yet another woman claimed to have seen a demon or ghost in the form of a man wandering the villa’s grounds at night. Of course, she didn’t get close enough to take a good look, instead uttering Hail Marys as she ran into the local church to take refuge until her husband found her some time later.

Your mind drifted to the villa sometimes, this forbidden and mysterious monument to grief and superstition that seemed to cast a longer shadow over the village than the mafiosos who ran it. Like Don Manusco, who your parents were joining for dinner one evening, and Filomena insisted you join her and Gianni instead of eating alone.

The scent of stewing summer tomatoes with garlic and mouth-watering spices invited you inside the house, its windows open for hopes of cool breezes moving through. Gianni offered you wine and a simple antipasto spread of cheese and oranges to snack on while Filomena cooked dinner. Despite his reclusiveness, he somehow knew that your father’s dinner with Don Manusco involved more business than a friendly visit, the final chance for your father to seal what he hoped would be a lucrative deal with the mafia boss.

Two hours later, you sat across from Filomena at the small wooden table in their kitchen, filling your plate with the delicious meal she prepared. You ate silence while Filomena spoke, bickering with Gianni every now and then. As the sun set over Corleone, unease crept over you, though you chose to attribute it to the heat of the day and eating too quickly.

Until a commotion erupted up the street, almost deafening as it approached, finally arriving outside of Filomena’s house. Frantic Sicilian shouting mingled with rapid pounding on the front door startled you into dropping your fork. Filomena and Gianni shared a worried glance before both getting up from the table to answer. 

Wailing. 

Screaming. 

Arguing. 

All you found yourself able to do was sit in confused silence. When they returned to the kitchen with a few other locals, panic truly set in.

“You have to leave!” Filomena cried, pulling you out of your seat by your arm.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Your father’s a fool–”

Gianni shook his head. “A dead fool–”

“Your father should have never brought you here if he were going to try to cheat Don Manusco!” an older woman said.

Another cursed. “Selfish bastard!” 

“Go! As far from here as you can!” Filomena implored.

A hard push toward the back door was the extent of the help you’d receive from the villagers of Corleone. 

Blood pounded in your ears, your heart beating in time with your feet against the uneven dirt path that nearly tripped you up in your desperate rush to the rental home. You opened the door, scrambling upstairs in a frantic half-crawl to reach your room.

You shoved clothes and essentials into a bag, hardly paying attention to what exactly you were packing, just knowing you couldn’t flee empty-handed and hope to rely on the goodwill of strangers. 

In the kitchen, you grabbed what you could from the pantry and shoved everything into a wicker basket. With just that and your suitcase in hand, you clumsily ran across the uneven countryside roads, hoping to find somewhere to take shelter for the night. Every rustle of leaves and animal cry sent chills across your skin. Just when you felt hopeless for a place to hide, you saw the abandoned villa's high walls, overgrown with vines and bramble in the distance. Superstition be damned, it was better than dying at the hands of a mafioso.

The iron gate was closed, but not locked. You held your breath as you opened it, sending out silent thanks to the universe that it didn’t release some otherworldly screech and announce your presence. Hardly visible in the dead of night, the villa peeked out from beneath the plants that had overtaken it. Even from a distance, it appeared as if the building were hollowed out somehow. It remained your best bet. 

Superstition offered you refuge, as masculine voices drifted above the villa’s high walls, the structure still sturdy despite the general state of disrepair.

“Should we go in?”

“You sound as much of a fool as that old man. That place is cursed. Even if she were in there, she'd be dead anyway.”

Their heavy, rushed footsteps against the rocky terrain fell silent after a few moments. You sighed in relief, allowing yourself to relax just the slightest bit. Until you glanced back at the villa again, a new sense of dread making your stomach turn at the prospect of having to go inside the place. While you didn’t believe all of the rumors you’d been told over the previous few weeks, being in its presence unsettled you.

Then again, feeling unsettled in an abandoned villa was preferable to whatever would happen if Don Manusco’s men got his hands on you.

After a moment of hesitation, you approached the shadowy building, hoping your luck wouldn’t run out when you got inside. 

To your surprise, the interior wasn’t as poorly maintained as the exterior. The furniture betrayed the wealth of whoever lived there previously, though they’d seen better days. Dark wood scuffed or splintered. Dull fabrics that must have been rich violets or crimson upon their initial purchase. 

You walked into the living room, freezing upon seeing lit candles around. Someone was living there after all. 

“Hello? Is anyone–” you gasped upon seeing a man standing on the other side of the living room, partially obscured by shadows.

Even in the cover of darkness, his features rendered you speechless as he approached. Handsome seemed too pedestrian of a word to describe him. His raven hair fell across his forehead with a deceptive boyishness. Brown eyes, almost black as the night itself bore into your own. His skin wasn’t nearly as tan as the villagers you’d met, but you supposed someone who lived in such a place was wealthy enough to not have to partake in the grueling manual labor typical of the area, the strong Sicilian sun giving its residents a healthy glow which he lacked. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“The men who were outside before—I think they’re going to kill me,” you said, panic overtaking your senses as his face remained unmoved by your explanation. “Please, I didn’t know anyone lived here.”

“Why do they want to kill you?”

“I think my father tried to cheat Don Manusco. I don’t know all of the details, but if they don’t want to kill me, then they’ll probably—“ Your voice caught in your throat. 

“You can stay.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow and find a way to get back to Palermo.”

He shook his head. “You have a vendetta out against you now. Getting back to Palermo so soon will be nearly impossible, especially if Manusco has allies there.” He watched in unreadable silence as hopelessness ate away at your resolve. “You can stay,” he finally repeated. “Don’t leave the villa. Not during the day, and especially not at night. You’ll be safe.”

“Thank you. I owe you my life.” You offered him your name, as a courtesy and as collateral. More valuable than anything else you carried with you, he could use it to betray you for his own gain whenever he wished. You prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

“Michael Corleone,” he said.

“Like the village.”

He smiled the slightest bit, his dark eyes shining an almost betraying crimson in the moonlight. Ethereal. That was the right word for him. “Yes, like the village.”

Your host led you upstairs, helping you with your meager belongings despite your insistence you could handle your small suitcase and a basket of food, which you left on the console table in the foyer. The villa had certainly seen better days, its plaster walls cracked, crumbling in some places. You would’ve used caution going up the stairs if Michael hadn’t been so confident as he ascended them. 

He paused at the top of the stairs, glancing at each of the doors along the hallway. After a few moments, he seemed to settle on one, leading you to a dark bedroom, full of odd shadows that made you pause. It seemed otherwise better taken care of than the rest of the villa you’d seen up to that point.  

“It’s just me here. I’m afraid I’m not the best homemaker,” he half-joked in response to your hesitation to enter the room. 

“No, I’m sorry. It’s nice. I can’t thank you enough, Michael.”

He nodded. “I have insomnia, so you’ll see more of me at night than during the day. The cellar stays locked, but you can have the run of the place otherwise.”

You bid each other good night. 

When he shut the bedroom door behind you, you collapsed onto the bed and cried into your pillow, both from heartbreak and exhaustion, until you fell asleep. 

The following morning, you awoke to fresh bug bites on your arm–inflamed and itchy, though perfectly in line with each other, oddly enough. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and you supposed you’d rather deal with mosquito bites than whatever Don Manusco and his soldiers had in mind for you. 

True to his word, Michael was nowhere to be found when you went downstairs to eat a breakfast of bread and hard salami. Again, not ideal, but you’d make do with what you brought with you. For the rest of the day, you explored the villa, acquainting yourself with your new albeit temporary home.

You found yourself with little to do to pass the time. Venturing out onto the surrounding grounds of the villa was hardly an option, most of it so overgrown you couldn’t take a proper walk. There were a few books in the house, but often you found your mind drifting to your parents, what their fate looked like and what could await you if Don Manusco found out where you were hiding. By the time you’d finally see Michael around in the evenings, you’d force yourself to stay up as long as you could to be in his company. Soon, your schedule nearly matched his nocturnal one.

Over the following weeks, you got to know Michael. At times, you couldn’t help but stare at him, but sometimes it felt as though you couldn’t do much else if you tried. He was a gracious host for how you imposed on him, showing concern for the bug bites you tried to hide from him. A good thing he noticed, as he brought you a cup of tea, a deep maroon color that he explained was a natural remedy from the village for the discomfort you were experiencing. A common occurrence that you’d been fortunate enough to avoid since arriving in Corleone.

“You’re not from around here either,” you said one night. “I can tell from your accent.”

“I’m from New York, but my father was born here,” he explained. “My last name is a mistake from when he immigrated.”

“Do you miss it?”

He was silent for some time, lost in thought before answering with a soft, “Terribly.”

“But you can’t go back.”

“No, I’m very sick. I wouldn’t survive the trip.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your curiosity getting the better of you when you asked, “What do you have?”

“What I have is incredibly rare, there’s no word for it. Sunlight puts me in excruciating pain, and my appetite is abnormal.”

“How long have you been sick for?”

“Years. More than you’d believe.”

“You know, everyone in the village thinks this place is cursed. If you just talked to them, then they’d understand what was going on and maybe be able to help.”

“I can’t be around people. It’s not safe for them.”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “Are you contagious?”

He hesitated. “Not how you’d think.”

“No matter what you have, it’s not good to be alone,” you argued.

“You’re here now.”

“Only until it’s safe for me to go to Palermo and leave Sicily.”

He shook his head. “You won’t be able to leave. Not when a man like Don Manusco has a vendetta out against you,” he said, his intense gaze boring into you. Your chest grew tighter as he spoke. “This villa is the only place you’ll ever be safe.”

“Michael, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just know what he did to your parents…he and men like him have done to many others on this island, too.” Your silence perturbed him. He grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them gently, though his eyes seemed to blaze with fury. “I’m keeping you safe here, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice nearly catching in your throat.

“Then what’s there to be afraid of?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s right, as long as you stay here.”

“I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed dismissively, not bothering to acknowledge your statement. You soon excused yourself to go to sleep, a sudden uneasiness settling in your stomach.

You awoke late into the afternoon the following day, judging by the amber sunlight that streamed through the broken shutters. Still, your limbs felt heavy, and your head pounded as if you’d hardly slept at all. A quick glance at your arm revealed twin bug bites on your wrist again, this time darker than the previous ones, leaving your skin tender to the touch. 

Dizziness turned the room over when you sat up from the bed, and you nearly considered going back to sleep, if it weren’t for the hunger that ached in your bones. 

You ventured down into the kitchen, relieved to find a pot of tea sitting out. You didn’t even bother reheating it, though the consistency was odd, thicker in its room temperature state. The texture didn’t deter you, as the more you drank, the better you felt, your dizziness and aches gone as the tea overflowed from the corners of your mouth and dripped down your chin, insatiable until there was nothing left. Wiping off your face, you went back up to your room and fell back asleep.

A knock on the door woke you up in the pitch black some hours later. You lit the candle on your bedside table before getting up to answer. You knew it was Michael, concerned about why you hadn’t joined him yet. 

Just as you got up to answer, he opened the door, letting himself into your room–except it wasn’t your room. It was his, and you supposed he could enter whenever he wanted. 

Frozen in place by his gaze alone, you stood still and silent as he approached, demeanor darker and more intense as his presence filled the room, as if his essence somehow intermixed with each breath you took. A citrusy sweetness with a bloodcurdling undercurrent of violence filled your lungs. Despite this, you felt no fear, but rather anticipation when he finally reached out and caressed your cheek, his hand freezing against your warm skin.

“Michael,” you whispered.

“Don’t fight me, sweetheart.”

And you couldn’t. Not even if you tried. His eyes took in your face with a softness that betrayed his fondness for you. His lips pressed against yours, a chaste kiss to start, but it proved to be insufficient for him, as he claimed your mouth with the fervor of a man long starved for affection. His desire for you tangible as you kissed him back, allowing his hands to roam your body above your nightgown until his fingers brushed your thighs, pushing the hem up to your hips. 

He laid you back on the bed, ridding you of your panties and slipping his fingers between your folds. “Tell me how it feels,” he said, his lips against your skin. “Tell me everything.”

Before then, you would have died rather than admit it to him, but at his urging, the dam broke. Of course your thoughts of him weren’t always innocent. Some nights, when you were sure he was elsewhere, you touched yourself to the thought of him. The confession slipped from your mouth so quickly that shame couldn’t catch you, not when Michael pushed his fingers inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your clit, denying you any sensation but absolute pleasure. 

“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” he whispered, pressing desperate kisses into your neck. “You have no idea how hard it’s been for me not to–”

Your whine interrupted his train of thought, and a knife-sharp pain jolted through you when he sunk his teeth into your throat, breaking the fragile skin. His fingers curled inside you, a moan clawing its way out of you as you came, ecstasy pulsing through your limbs in waves that threatened to drown you in it. Spots clouded your vision and breath evaded you, the poignant scent of copper mixed with your sex made your head spin. 

“Michael, I–” You passed out, though you awoke later, curled up next to him, your body sore and more fatigued than ever. You winced when you tried to move your head, a dull ache coming from your neck. “What did you do?” you mumbled.

“Sweetheart?”

“To my neck.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, petting your hair. “I got carried away. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

“Me either,” you admitted. 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. From then on, he was ravenous, and like a woman possessed, you gave in to him every time. Nights with him blurred together as thoughts of escaping Sicily and the danger that waited for you outside of the villa walls were almost nonexistent. 

Some time later, though you’d largely stopped keeping track of the days by then, you realized your food supply was running low. Michael would go out at night and get some for you if you asked, though he never revealed where exactly he went. Still unsure of your safety from Don Manusco, you figured the farm up the road would be a good place to swipe some fruit from the orchard and anything else they might have lying around and not exactly miss.

The sun felt especially harsh when you went outside. Each step brought about unimaginable fatigue that made your bones ache. You hardly made it halfway to the farm before you had to rest beneath a large tree’s shade to rest your tired limbs and eyes. 

“Excuse me, miss? Are you okay?” 

You jolted awake, surrounded by a handful of elderly villagers from around the countryside. You recognized at least one of the older women as one of your old cafe companions in Corleone.

“I’m fine.”

The woman in question squinted at you. “Where do I know you from?”

“We’ve never met before,” you said, voice tight with panic. “I have to go. Goodbye.” You forced yourself up, using what little strength you had to return to the villa, ignoring their calls for you to wait. Exhaustion swept over you by the time you made it inside, promptly collapsing in the foyer. They had recognized you, and surely they had seen you retreat into the villa and were on their way to let Don Manusco know of your whereabouts. They’d be foolish not to with the price on your head.

Michael was nowhere to be found, and you worried that by the time you finally saw him that night, it’d be too late to tell him what transpired. Tears rolled down your cheeks as fear and guilt crept up on you. Your carelessness had put Michael in danger, too.

With no way of knowing how long it’d be until word got back to Manusco, you considered the layout of the villa, which you knew like the back of your hand, and the best place to hide if he or his men intruded in search of you.

In hindsight, the kitchen cupboard was a more obvious choice for a hiding spot, but it was the most your fatigued brain could come up with while you were panicked. 

Your instincts had been right, though. The inevitable intrusion did come.

The voices that echoed through the foyer were the same ones from the night you first arrived in the villa. You kept a hand over your mouth, the other with an iron grip around the kitchen knife. 

“Come on, Don Manusco isn’t angry with you. He just wants to talk,” one of the men called out.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” the other added. “He knows you didn’t have anything to do with your father’s schemes.”

You couldn’t take a chance on whether or not they were telling the truth. 

Footsteps approached, growing louder with each passing second. You readied yourself for attack, until you heard a blood-curdling scream rip through the night and you dropped the knife in shock. 

With all of the foolishness of your father, you opened the cupboard door. Blood pooled around the man’s head, a look of terror etched into his face, betraying his final thoughts. Your gaze lifted, and you stumbled backward, unable to comprehend the gruesome sight before you. If you hadn’t been watching Michael with your own eyes, you would have assumed an animal attack was responsible for the carnage at your feet. What more, after the initial shock wore off, an almost physical pull drew you to the spilled blood.

The villagers had been right. It wasn’t mere superstition, but reality, one more horrific than any of them could have fathomed. The unexplained murders, the livestock deaths, all by his hand. His illness a fabrication to conceal the true nature of his being, something unnatural that existed in the worlds between life and death with a hunger to match. He’d been feeding from you for weeks, allowing you to carry on believing lies. Of course you felt awful, constantly fatigued. You could only hazard a guess as to what was really in the tea you’d been drinking like a fiend.

You wished you could scream at yourself for your naivete, as if he’d help you out of the kindness of his heart and not expect something in return. Your willful ignorance of his odd behavior in exchange for refuge in the one place where you’d be safe from who you thought were the only men who wanted to harm you. But he saved you from Don Manusco and his men. He kept you alive. He could gain little from drawing out your death for so long. Unless…your eyes widened, and you looked at him in horror.

Michael spoke your name softly. “Do you understand now?”

“You–You’ve been making me like you.”

“I should have done it sooner. It’s the best way to keep you safe.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“I guess not.”

He cupped your face in his hands, “Things won’t be that different. We’ll be together. No one will be able to hurt you.” 

“How–How much longer until I’m–”

“As soon as tonight, if you’ll let me.” Sensing your hesitation, he pressed a bloody kiss to your forehead. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the urge to trust him, to commit to an eternity of all-consuming, reclusive violence with him. “I want to be with you. I want to be like you.”

His hands drifted down to your neck, his fingers digging into your pulse as he leaned in, his teeth grazing the half-healed wound he’d inflicted all those nights before. “I knew you’d make the right choice.”

[goldsainz]

THEY BROKE UP? — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

NOTE: i’m a sucker for angst😁 i don’t know why i felt so inspired, i have never been in a relationship. or what drove me to write that article, which i didn’t spend as much time on as you would think, i guess i was inspired. please enjoy this, happy danny ric grand prix (not anymore😐)!!! this is my longest social media piece to date (templates by @mybodywakesup)

liked by tchalamet, jennaortega and 2,047,159 others

yourusername my EP “FWD” is out in all streaming platforms! this EP comes from a very deep, personal and heartfelt place. many nights of non-stop writing led to me putting out 4 songs i never would’ve released months ago. thank you for giving me time to come back as the best version of myself.

view all 30,707 comments

selenagomez I am so happy you released this! The world needs to see all of your talent shine ❤️

⤷ yourusername thank you for being there sel 🫶

ynfan1 I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR HOW HEARTBREAKING THIS WOULD BE

ynfan2 oh so we’re back to making us cry

dannielfan1 things i wish you said is so about daniel

user1 after 9 months of no content she just puts out four songs?

⤷ ynfan3 please read her newest vogue article before commenting things like this

alexademie i’m in love with you?

⤷ yourusername i’m in love with you too?

ynfan3 LONESOME BEST SONG!!!!!

When I got the call that Y/N Y/L/N wanted to do the article with Vogue, and that I was appointed as the writer I remember thinking ‘What will I say?’. There isn’t much to prepare you when a celebrity like her decides she wants you in her home, opening up about her hardships with you there to listen and write it all down. But, alas, I put my nerves beside me and took all of the questions the world wanted answers to, to the only woman who could answer them. 

Her house in the English countryside is just as perfect as you would expect. With dark mahogany floors, potted plants everywhere and white walls that are filled with different memories she framed, Y/L/N’s home is made for those who love the feeling of being at home. It brims with a cosy feeling, from the rugs she picked which bring an unexpected, yet welcome, warmth, to the open space that shows off her beautiful backyard. Y/L/N’s house is nothing short of exceptional. If each room were to speak to me they would all rave about how comfortable they feel, how there is no other that feel like a ‘home’ quite like theirs.

The moment I arrived at her front door, she was the one to open the door and greet me with a hug. There was no one but us at her house, nothing but the comfortable silence and the occasional chirping of a bird. Her outfit was casual, with some Stella McCartney jeans, a Prada silk blouse which she wears with the top 3 buttons open, and a pair of Hermes sandals, it all made her look relaxed whilst still looking polished. She offered me a single-couch to sit down on, offering me different options of beverages she proudly concocted. I opted for a refreshing blueberry lemonade, while she had an already drunk, half-full glass of orange juice. 

After what seemed like forever without her presence on red carpets, premieres or her famous F1 paddock appearances, Y/N Y/L/N created an enjoyable life for herself. She admits that even though there have been many hardships, she has pushed through them as best as she can. “Sometimes you just have to take a break, take a moment to look around and wonder what you really need.” She expresses, “This life isn't for everyone. I am very happy with how things turned out for me, and there is not one day I regret what I’ve done. But, there are moments in which things get out of control and space is needed.”

On the outside, Y/L/N has always appeared to the masses as someone who never falters in her step. From her modelling debut when she was freshly 18 years old, turning herself into the face of Prada back in 2012 when the whole world wondered ‘Just who is this girl?’. It wasn't long before she delved into the acting world, with her first role in 2014 for the critically acclaimed film ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ as ‘Agatha’. Everyone loved her, wondering what her next move would be, so the whole world was shaken when just a year later she released an album. ‘Honeymoon’ took the world by a storm, with emotional lyrics that only added to the mystery of who she was, Pitchfork said “It's an album about love, but "love", as Y/L/N sings it, sounds like mourning. The romance here is closer to addiction—something that's sought for its ability to blot out the rest of life's miseries…”. Nobody knows who drove her to write this, but the speculations never stopped, not to this day. On the inside, however, she struggled to know who she really was.

She talks about not having the right skills to cope with the sudden fame, how overwhelming it all would really be. Still, she never stopped putting out new content for her fans. Nobody could forget the girl who despite all the luxury that surrounded her, uploaded vlogs to youtube about her life. No one could take away her raw authenticity.

Maybe that is why when in May of 2022 her posts on Instagram, Twitter and Youtube came to a sudden halt, fans wondered what happened to her. What made Y/N Y/L/N drop from the face of the earth? Why did she stop appearing everywhere? 

The talk never ceased, the world could not let go of the woman they had grown up with and learned to love over a decade ago. “It was weird seeing all those rumours while I battled to know who I was. I tried as hard as I could to drown it all out, so I uninstalled every single social media app I had. I ended my connection with the world to reconnect with myself.” She says. “It was hard, but it was truly what I had wanted for a while.”

Since she appeared in the spotlight, her relationships or lack of, has been questioned. “I watched my female peers struggle to get away from their love lives, how every interviewer didn't care for the projects they were in, but rather who they were with at the time.” She recalls. “I was in a relationship with who I thought was the love of my life, for almost 7 years. It is rather jarring coming to terms that sometimes people grow, and that you are the one that needs out of a relationship which is nothing short of special. My concept of love was tarnished by a guy who was older than me, and another guy who was just as immature as I was. So naturally, I was swept off my feet when suddenly, all I ever knew wasn't how I thought it was.” 

Even now, after the heartbreaking experience she went through, Y/L/N only has kind words to say about the man she loved. “He is a true gentleman, he knew me like no one else did. I guess, along the way, I stopped knowing myself. That was the problem.” She says. “How can someone else know me when I don't even know myself? I asked myself that a lot. I like to think I know myself better now, I learned how to love every part of me, and that was the most rewarding journey. It wasn’t his fault, but I couldn't love someone else without loving me first.”

Self Love is a very important part of her life now. She puts her well-being over her need to succeed, something that made her iconic, was destroying her slowly. “Being an ‘icon’ to many stuck me in a box. There was an underlying feeling of having to always outperform others and myself, it was exhausting and that was how I started losing sight of myself.”

When talking about her future projects, Y/L/N expressed that she was “taking her time”. No more would she be walked over and feel pressured to put out new content, opting for a more relaxed and controlled lifestyle. Though she once was everywhere everyday, she now hopes to be mentioned when she does something valuable and not when she is merely existing. 

“I do have an EP coming out. It is just four songs, but I wrote them alone, and they are my most special songs to date.” She says. “One thing I do not want happening is for people I care for to be harassed or accused of things they are not responsible for. Music is a creative outlet for me, it is never made with the intention to hurt anyone.” She adds. “‘things i wish you said’ is my favourite. It’s the first one I wrote after my breakup, which makes it the rawest out of all of them. I think that's why I like it so much, the other three were written in different periods of my life, some even years ago. It will be fun seeing everyone dissect them.”

She decided to keep the EP to just four songs because all the others were too personal or she decided to keep them for another time. “I’m sure the world would love to know all the nooks and crannies of my past relationship, but that is something I would like to keep between him and me. I am ready to move on from all the pain, to leave it all in the past. If people want to remain stuck there, that is their own choice, I choose to be free and continue growing.”

Y/L/N’s journey is far from finished. She has not even turned 30 yet, but she redirects her narrative because it just does not fit her anymore. She is not that young 18 year-old girl who knows nothing, but rather a 28 year-old woman “ready to move on” as she puts it. 

At that point in our conversation, her previously relaxed demeanour has only grown. With her legs tucked on the black leather couch she has in her wide living room, an arm resting on a deep magenta pillow, she is in her own space. Y/L/N smiles and pays attention to every question I ask, she has no qualms in sharing. Though she sometimes opted to give no comment about certain situations, not once did she feel offended or made me feel out of place. 

As our conversation came to an end, she gave me one final piece of advice: “Only you can decide what's best for you. Once you learn how to manage other people’s opinions, there is nothing that can truly stop you from being uniquely you. Love yourself, you have one life, why live it in misery?”

liked by ynfan21, danielfan21 and 103,859 others

yndanielenthusiast i will never forget when they both posted the same picture to hard launch their relationship

view all 1,558 comments

ynfan22 what if this was my 13th reason?

ynfan23 we all remember where we were when this dropped

⤷ danielfan22 i woke from a nap, checked instagram and screamed so loud my parents thought someone died

⤷ ynfan23 so real

user21 missing them hours

ynfan24 nothing could’ve prepared for y/n confirming their breakup. nothing.

danielfan23 I NEED THEM BACK

⤷ ynfan25 THOSE TWO WERE LITERALLY MY PARENTS

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 462,071 others

danielricciardo Don’t leave me hangin 🙃

view all 6,931 comments

ynfan31 y/n liking this😭

danielfan31 IM SO HAPPY HES HAPPY WITH RBR

ynfan32 say what you want abt y/n (don’t) but she’s handling the situation very maturely

danielfan32 he’s smiling while we’re all in shambles smh

⤷ danielfan33 right???

user31 I need him back on track asap

user32 am i delusional to think the caption means something else or…

⤷ ynfan33 yes.

⤷ danielfan34 yes.

liked by danielricciardo, taylorswift and 1,925,836 others

yourusername many things to come 🥂

view all 28,887 comments

ynfan41 istg if she says an album is coming

⤷ ynfan42 it would be crazy but i don’t think so

zendaya cheers to that!

liked by yourusername

user41 her smile &lt;3

danielfan41 ariana what r u doing here🤨

taylorswift 🍾🍾🍾

⤷ ynfan43 I’M SCARED WHAT’S GOING ON

ynfan44 she has something cooking and i am not prepared

[eccentricwritingbaby]

masterlist!

formula one

-lando norris-

yes, and? you’re famous, he’s famous - your new relationship is out for criticism with the world to see. neither of you care. loose basis on ‘yes, and?’ by ariana grande. 

please please please with lando’s past track record of women, you get nervous entering this new relationship. it leads you to do the only thing you know how - write a song. based on please please please by sabrina carpenter. 

arm candy enemies to lovers as the two embark on a pr relationship. reader is heavily based on cristina yang and olivia pope - intelligent and knows her worth. lando treats her as just a piece of ass on his arm. the two need to keep up appearances, yet always have time to find a fight.

baby finn series

house divided yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral bedtime stories finn is begging for a bedtime story, and lando has the perfect one to share.  sneaking onto stream little baby norris misses his dad and goes on a mission to find him, when found - it can only result in cuddles babysitting and date nights uncle carlos comes over to babysit finn as you and your husband enjoy a night out.  the necessary reactions y/n is pregnant again, time to tell the world - well, their whole world.  preparations lando and y/n begin their quest to prepare for their baby on the way, while their first baby is just happy to be included.  the godfather a collection of max fewtrell's importance to your son as his favorite godfather. the last hooray in order to give finn some extra attention before the baby comes, the young family heads to the english countryside, visiting lando’s parents, and granting finn the last little bit of time all about him. interruptions parents with a high sex drive plus a toddler who doesn’t like to be alone equals lando and y/n facing a funny yet frustrating dilemma. set before pregnancy with baby girl norris. 

meet-cute series

part one y/n y/l/n just needed a coffee when she walked into the shop, she didn’t expect to also walk out with a date.  part two y/n is giving lando a run for his money in playing hard to get, and lando knows he's in love so so soon.  part three first ‘i love you’s’ and worries of going public

-charles leclerc-

thank you reader has been stressed from work, leading charles to give her comfort.

she's a lady based on the song 'shes a lady' by tom jones. just y/n being cool and charles being a simp lol

fake or real? y/n sainz had just broken up with her boyfriend of four years. with the tension of both ferrari drivers at each other's throats, their pr team believes it a good idea to have y/n and charles date. y/n can look like she’s moving on from her boyfriend and save her company, charles can look like he likes his teammate, ferrari can avoid any future pr disaster. everyone wins! right?

-carlos sainz jr-

cooking up some fun with the sainz' y/n sainz is a successfully famous chef with her own restaurant and ever since covid, she has been cooking on instagram live once a week. fans adore the sweet interactions between her and carlos and their little baby girl. 

baby, incoming! you and carlos have been married for over a year now and you’ve gone MIA. what could be the reason? new music or a new beginning? maybe both?

can we make this work?  carlos falls for lando's sister, lando forbids it, you and carlos push to get your brother and his best friend back

funny wife, happy life the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

sex ban carlos puts down a sex ban in order to try and improve his racing performance. after he caves and realizes he can’t do it, you place your own sex ban to get payback. and it’s killing the both of you. 

hard life or wag life? reader and carlos are in a fresh romance, but the comments online are starting to drive her crazy, questioning if the relationship is even worth all of the hate she receives.

-daniel ricciardo-

i miss you, i love you danny gets back from the mexican gp and realizes just how badly he missed his wife and kids. that all leads to many questions about his future.

-lewis hamilton-

family ties lewis and y/n have been going out for about half a year and he can tell she’s hiding something, or somebody. her son, a little five year old boy that lewis so desperately wants to meet. but is y/n ready for that next step?

home a small drabble of lewis coming back home from a race to his wife and babies.

-oscar piastri-

surprise! after a few long months of not being able to see each other - y/n at university, oscar racing and training - reader is feeling the blues of long distance. until a certain surprise comes her way. 

-group headcannons-

f1 driver's bday posts for their babies daniel ricciardo, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz jr, oscar piastri, logan sargeant, max verstappen, george russell