#ahh the water lilly <3

[got-to-love-a-badboy]

Runaway chapter 2

Sarah wake to find something in her bed, she rolled over and lifted the covers, "ahh" screamed little voice, "morning baby girl!" Sarah smiles as her daughter made her way to the top of the bed, "hi mommy!" Said the little girl as she snuggled down next to her mommy.

After a while the two girls headed to the kitchen, Sarah put Katie at her little chair and table and turned cartoons on for her, then she headed to the kitchen to make herself a coffee and Katie's breakfast, "can you make me a cup?" She heard as Chloe came in to the kitchen and headed over to Katie, "morning monster" Chloe said to her ruffling her hair, "what you watching?" Katie looked at the tv then back at Chloe, "it's DORA!" She shouted in excitement.

After breakfast Sarah went for a shower and to get dressed, she opted for a knee length body on dress and some white vans with her hair on beach waves.

——Texts, DownUnder and sarebear ——

DownUnder- Morning, sorry if iv woken you doll but you said to text when I was in. Iv just landed I'm grabbing my bags now.

Sarebear- oh no it's fine iv been up a while, yay exciting! I have a key for your apartment so il go open up soon and il meet you there, see you soon.

DownUnder- Great, thank you for been so welcoming Sarah

       ————————————-

Sarah walked in to the living room on her phone, "Who are you texting!" Chloe asked, "Oh it's Dacre saying he's landed, I'm going over soon to unlock the apartment and meet him, are you ok with Katie?" She asked not looking up from her phone, "first of all yes stop asking if I'm ok it's my job! and second, dude have you seen Dacre Montgomery before!?" Sarah looked at her best friend and smiled, "thank you, and yes I may have googled him lastnight, at least we will have something to look at on set" the two girls giggled. Chloe saw her friend smiling while she was texting.

"Sarah it's been 2 years, you think you could be ready to look at men again?" She asked sounding hopeful, Sarah sighed "I mean yeah maybe but come on look at him he's not going to look in my general direction is he" Chloe shot up off of the sofa "hey! No don't do this to yourself you are a total babe alright! Do not sell yourself short! I love you and I want to see you happy, I can't promise I won't match make now you have said your ready but what ever" the girls laughed again.

"Chloe you exhaust me sometimes" Sarah laughed "I'm going to unlock their apartment make sure it's all ready he should be here in 10 minutes, il be back in a bit Katie, Aunty Chlo will watch Dora with you! Love you pumpkin!" Sarah said as she was walking out of the door, "love youuuuu mamaaaa!" Katie shouted after her.

———— In the apartment ————-

Sarah walked in to the stranger things apartment and made sure all the doors were open so he could see inside, checked all the beds were made, she opened the back balcony door ready to show him the view, then she went and poured 2 glasses of water, she was drinking hers when the door bell rang, she put her glass down and bolted for the door. She took a breath before opening the door finding herself more nervous than usual.

"Hey Sarah nice to meet you" dacre said dropping her bags and drawing her in to a hug, "so nice to meet you Dacre" Sarah smiled back at him, "come on in il show you around" Sarah said moving back for him, "how was the flight?" She asked him, "good, long and tiring but good" he smiled at her, "yeah I can imagine let me show you around then you can get settled and chill out before all the idiots show up" she joked with him.

They made their way to the living room, "so obviously this is the living room the guys spend most of their time in here because it's so big uh then at the back there is the kitchen" she said as she walked through to the kitchen, "this is nice, great view" Dacre said looking out of the window, "yeah it's pretty cool" Sarah smiles heading out on to the balcony with Dacre behind her. "That's my apartment just nextdoor" She told him, "how come you don't live here with everyone else, if you don't mind me asking" Dacre asked feeling rude and regretting he's question as soon as he said it, Sarah smiles at him and bit the her bottom lip, this was her downfall with guys the part that pushed them away instantly "uh ... I tried living here last year but it was just too much because I ... I have a daughter, she's nearly 2 and a half, and we kind of got in the way you know, when people are up late having fun and stuff I was been a party pooper asking people to keep it down because she was asleep, it was just easier for us to move across the hall" she said smiling at him and looking away, "Wow really, you don't look old enough to be a mom, but well done you for achieving so much while been a mom, I bet she's proud of you" Dacre smiled at her not taking he's eyes off of her, "wow thank you, that.. that means a lot actually it's not been easy" Sarah smiled back at him, "I bet" he said, Then it went quiet.

"so let me show you the bedrooms" Sarah headed back inside and let out a deep breath after breaking the silence.

They headed upstairs and Sarah showed him all of the bedrooms and telling him the end one would be he's, it was smaller than the others but it had a balcony, "I have this room next-door, I needed the balcony" she told him "yeah I'm happy with it I would choose a balcony over space too" they both smile at eachother, "il show you the rest then il get out of your hair and you can do what you need to do".

After showing him the bathroom and laundry room they headed downstairs, "so that's the apartment, I'm going to head back over to mine, there is some food in the fridge if your hungry, but il be over the hall if you need anything or text me" she smiled at him again before he pulled her in for another hug, "thank you so much for this Sarah, and it was so nice meeting you, il see you later?" He pulled back from the hug and rubbed the back of he's neck, "yeah of course, bye Dacre" he watched her as she walked in to her apartment "Bye Sarah" they smiled at eachother.

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Sarmills are you ready for more Lilly Harrington! I am! Plus she's the hotter sibling 😜St season 2 here we come!

User 3 - 😍😍 she's amazing!

Uncle_jezzy Oh really! You went there!

Gatenm123 - she's got a point Keery!

Dacremontgomery 😍

User 4 what the! ^^^^

Nattyiceofficial - I second that #LillyisLife!

User 5 ugh really worst character on st 😒

Sadiesinks_ @user5 not required thanks! She's a babe!

Coco that's my best friend 😍 wcw!

[3one3]

The Sequel - 837

See No Evil

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Can you stay until Monday when Schü and Lukas come?”

“Probably. I thought you didn’t want it to be like one guy leaving in a taxi and then the next pulling up?”

“I don’t, but I realized just now that Sunday is our only chance for privacy. We can go out on the water. I hate that I can’t lay on you exactly like this outside because people will see. Seriously, all I’ve wanted to do for weeks is lay on you in the sun.”

“I’ll stay as long as you want, baby girl.”

Christina was fibbing, because she wanted to lie on André in the sun too, but that didn’t seem relevant to the conversation happening in her bed. Both rider and player went below deck to change for their transition from sun bathing to horse show. Player got distracted by cell phone and ended up lying in the middle of the nicely made bed to read his email. Rider got distracted by player in bed and laid flat on top of him in her dainty black bikini instead of getting in the shower to wash away the SPF-30. Her earlier statement would have been completely true if she had edited it to say that she spent the previous three hours wanting to lie on him that way in the sun. She flatted each of her horses first thing in the morning and then returned to the boat to have breakfast with him, ran back to the show to help Stefanie with her class, and then retreated to Lilly XO to pass the time until her own classes. Rider and player passed the time catching rays on the main deck, up in front of the bridge. The marina was packed. There were tons of people out on their own decks, or traveling by on the water taxi, or even jet skis. They were a 30-second walk and one chain link fence from the horse show stabling, and the horse show photographers. They were in Cannes, where celebrity sightings on boats are virtually listed on the attractions signs. Rider and player couldn’t do anything up there at the front of the boat, in the light of day, that friends wouldn’t do.

“I should get up,” Christina observed noncommittally while the Spaniard rubbed her back. She was resting on her elbows and forearms in the middle of his chest, and the stretch in her lower back still felt great even though she’d been in the same position many times topside.

“You should just put the riding pants on with the bikini top. You will win. The guys will have blue balls from watching your breasts bounce around on the horse, and the women will be too jealous to ride well. Or don’t go ride at all. Stay here exactly like this so I can have this view,” Juan suggested as a solution to her problem- her problem being her total lack of motivation to go get on Dirk.

“Yeah?” She looked down at her cleavage and pretended to be surprised that a member of the male species found her breasts appealing when barely covered by some small triangles of fabric and barely supported by some skinny strings. “They look that good in this?” she asked, playing dumb. He nodded from his pillow, and she used her hands to kind of squish her breasts together, still looking down at them. “Do you think the guys would think about, like, kissing them?” Juan nodded again but still didn’t say anything or change the typically warm and friendly expression on his face. He wasn’t emphatic. “Probably sucking on them too, right?” His ex pulled one of those little black triangles to the side and ran her finger over her nipple tentatively, still feigning both ignorance and innocence.

“Yes, I think so.”

“What about...rubbing their dicks in between?” Christina covered her nipple and smooshed both breasts together tight, her chin to her chest so that she could look all the way down at them.

“Sure, of course.” The Chelsea man’s face was beginning to show signs of his being more than just passively listening and watching her game, particularly when her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. She took a second to glance at him, which he didn’t notice at all since his eyes were fixed lower than that, and then tried to lift her right breast up as much as possible.

“Guys like it when girls...lick...their own-“ This is too stupid. I can’t do it, she laughed to herself, practically snorting out loud right as she leaned down to lick herself. Her game was too cheesy even for her, and it was clear she wasn’t going to be able to turn her best friend into some desperate, drooling fool with it. “Okay I’m done,” she announced before unceremoniously heaving herself off his upper body.

“Are you trying to give me blue balls too?” Juan complained, hands out and palms turned up. His posture was still relaxed though. He wasn’t incredulous.

“Yes,” she replied flatly over her shoulder on her way to the shower. I’m not taking clothes with me because it’ll be more fun to traipse around in a towel if he’s still down here when I get out, and it’s impossible to pull breeches onto damp legs anyway. Also, I distinctly remember that the last time I was in London he told me he liked to have to wait to be with me, like having to be around me all night knowing we’re gonna fuck later makes it even better. It’s only 4 now and I won’t be done until at least 10:30 tonight, the reigning Tour Champion smirked at her reflection in the full-length mirror behind the sink. Like its mate in the “hers” bathroom, it continued under the sink and the vanity down to the floor, so she could even see how her shoes looked. It was a thoughtful detail that made her wonder if the designer had shoes in mind or simply interior design style. Regardless, the boat felt homey to her. It didn’t feel like a floating hotel suite anymore. Those were her bathrooms, and it was her bed, and the crew worked for her.

Her shower was brief and the Spaniard was indeed still in the room when she emerged in her towel, but he pretended not to notice her walking around to gather breeches, underwear, her Hermès belt, a sports bra, the correct watch, a fitted black v-neck tee, her gold “You Make Me Happy” pendant necklace, knee-high stockings, the brushes and products necessary to dry her hair, a CWD baseball cap, flip-flops, the barn-access wristband, and her card wallet. Christina thought of each item separately because each one gave her another chance to move about the master stateroom in her butt-skimming towel. The footballer paid her no attention. He was entrenched in his phone. It wasn’t until she was fully dressed and ready to depart that he finally acknowledged her, and that was just to find out what he should wear to the horse show. The slim navy shorts and lightweight chambray button-up he chose were a problem for her. They were perfectly appropriate, weather and occasion-wise. They just made him way too distracting. He looked too cool, especially with his sunglasses and blindingly white sneakers. He was the epitome of hot, wealthy, classy, cool French Riviera Guy. Instead of getting that “I’m here with the hottest guy” feeling she sometimes experienced when she held André’s hand, she felt a kind of anticipatory jealousy. They walked over together with the dogs and Christina wished she could hold his hand, not just because it would be nice but because she could feel as if she were warding off the interest of any other women who found the petit but well defined Chelsea man devastatingly handsome and appealing.

The first class on the 5* agenda was the most difficult of the competition formats for inexperienced spectators, of which there were many in Cannes. Juan needed the detailed explanation too, twice. His sort-of-girlfriend invited him on her course walk in hopes that it would make it more clear. No one looked twice at a non-horse-person trekking along the track with a rider. It was normal, and common. Christina thought twice about it in a roundabout way. She thought about how Tom would have thrown some shade if he were there, and so she was extra glad to have Isandro looking after her horses instead. She was glad to be reunited with her longtime groom anyway. He didn’t tell her what to do, or talk about personal matters. He just took care of the horses and let the rider look after herself. That was a nice alternative after weeks and weeks on the road with her groom/babysitter.

“Okay so this is 7B, which is annoying because the combination is big oxer to boring vertical and it makes the horses go “ahh I have to brake!”, and then- see that tripody thing over there?” The rider with the dog leashes in her hand ducked down some to point between some gold and white striped rails to show her course walk newbie friend what she was talking about. “Once you pass that, the first phase is over and the second one starts simultaneously, if you’ve been clean so far. If you knock anything down or go over the time allowed just in the part with these first 8 fences, then you’re eliminated and you stop after passing through the timers. If you’re clean, you continue and jump the other 5 fences. There’s a buzzer to let you know to stop. It’s all really confusing for everyone because it looks like some people are jumping a different course, and the buzzer is coming at all different times because it’s the same sound to signal you to start, and, yeah. It’s just annoying.”

“It’s not that difficult to understand,” Juan shrugged, his lower lip pushed in and his chin pushed out.

“When I was a kid I got so hung up on getting through the first phase that I often forgot where to go in the second phase. My trainer had to call the jumps to me.”

“That happened to you in Sweden, cariña, Like a couple of months ago.”

“Shhh that’s different! I just thought I was done already. Totally different. Come on guys. More jumps to sniff,” Christina told her terriers. The foursome traveled to each of the remaining 5 fences in very different numbers of steps. The one who would have to travel the route on horseback did it in 3’ strides. The other human just walked normally at her side. Spencer and Lucky had to trot to keep up. They got locked into Christina and Stefanie’s grooming stall when everyone left with Dirk. Something about Cannes made him way naughtier than they could ever be. He was set to follow his first year performance there, with the dropping of his person’s shoe in his water bucket and the dumping of his person into the mud while celebrating, by being a total attention whore.

“Stop hitting me with your head!” she complained to him after the fourth time he interrupted her conversation with Marcus by violently thrusting his face into her back. Isandro went back to the tent to get her bat, so she was holding the horse’s lead. He didn’t like being tethered to someone ignoring him.

“What was I saying?” Marcus asked after the interruption.

“Karen’s horse.”

“Oh yeah. It turns out that Ralph Capristo started him. You bought your nice pony from him, I think?”

“That’s really weird.”

“Why? Did he only do ponies?”

“No I mean it’s weird that you know where I got a pony more than 20- D! Knock it off!” Christina wheeled around and yanked on Dirk’s leather and chain lead when he hit her in the shoulder. “You are such a baby.” The stallion reached for her with his nose. Her free hand was on her hip, so he sniffed at it. He’s literally batting his eyelashes at me right now, she realized, watching his big and soft, brown eyes. He appeared to be begging. “Fine, I’ll pet you.”

“You can’t hold him accountable for anything,” Juan pointed out.

“Dirk gets away with murder. He could eat Lukas and she would give him something for his stomach to help the digestion,” the other rider added.

“Ew.” His young colleague wasn’t going to argue the point though. She was stroking the really soft part of Dirk’s muzzle, on the side, right below the lower part of his figure-eight noseband. Both his German and Argentine grooms used a little baby oil there like lotion or conditioner. His skin felt like a high-end jersey knit pillow case- Christina’s favorite to sleep on.

“The most spoiled animal. Look at him. His eyes are closing. I’m surprised he is willing to walk all the way here from the stall. He probably expects someone to carry him on one of those platforms and fan him with palm leaves.”

“Stop picking on him,” Christina replied to Marcus without looking up from her stallion. He really did appear to be nodding off, or just savoring her relaxing touch. His beautiful and inquisitive head ended up very near to her, and she couldn’t remember if she took a step closer to him or he took one to her.

“I’m going to go ride my horse instead of spoil him.”

“K bye.” My pony deserves to be spoiled. He’s the best there is. “You’re not spoiled. You’re treated just right,” she mumbled quietly once Marcus was gone. Just Juan was left, holding her water bottle. She really appreciated having someone there with her who wasn’t on her payroll or her client list. It was always nice to have someone around who just wanted to support her and experience the event with her. But he was second fiddle to the Holsteiner. Dirk was the best company. He was literally the only “man” in her life who needed her attention and love the way she always craved the attention and love of someone dedicated to her, even before she met someone who fit the bill and before she figured out that that was what had been missing. Dirk loved his person unconditionally. That was the fourth thing Christina knew to be true, even though she told Juan there were only three things. Saying it out loud made it sound like a silly thing, she thought, and to her it was very serious, so she never did.

“I wish I could shrink him down to cuddly toy size for you, or bottle him,” the Spaniard smiled a moment later. His ex zoned out and wasn’t sure how long she’d just been standing there petting the horse. “You could take him everywhere with you and then you would be happy and relaxed wherever you go.”

“Then I couldn’t hug his head.” White shirt be damned, she decided, demonstratively wrapping her arms around her equine partner and his bridle and his ear net. I’m going to put a jacket on over all the black hair anyway.

“I don’t know how you were finding yourself in such difficult situations with him over the winter. He is like Xanax for you.”

“You say that like I’m one of those crazy girls that needs Xanax.”

“I don’t mean to imply that. I just mean...You’re always so happy with him. It’s a beautiful relationship. Look how much he loves you.”

“He just likes shiny things.” Christina rolled her eyes behind her current favorite sunglasses- black metal frame aviators with three little black trademark Givenchy stars in the top corner of each lens. The horse was investigating her belt buckle with his lips while she held onto his long nose. “I like shiny things. My son likes shiny things. My horse likes shiny things.”

“I like shiny trophies. Is there a trophy for this class?” Juan asked when he finally reached out with his hand and his not-shiny leather watch to pat the animal’s forehead.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s more like a warm up than a thing that matters, but sometimes everything has a trophy because the class sponsor wants to donate one, or call it a “Blah Blah Blah Cup”.”

“Isandro is back. I don’t see your crop though.”

“It’s probably in his back pocket.”

“Are you going to win the trophy?”

“I dunno, Ask this guy. D-Money, do you feel like winning a trophy?”

“He always feels like winning a trophy,” Isandro supplied upon arriving on the scene. He did in fact have Christina’s little bat in his back pocket, and he presented it to her after tightening Dirk’s girth, taking his scrim sheet off, and throwing her up into the saddle in her helmet instead of her shades. Tom didn’t trust her to remember to bring the bat with her, so he was usually in charge of it. He stuffed it into the pommel of her saddle, or under one of the flaps. The other groom wasn’t aware. It wasn’t a big deal. The rider felt good about everything. It occurred to her that back during the time that Juan referred to, when she had so many troubles in the saddle, even with Dirk, something as little as having her routine interrupted by a missing crop would have truly disrupted her and she might have mentally used it as some kind of excuse to anticipate riding poorly. She still had no idea how exactly she got out of that rut.

With every round she jumped, that rut looked smaller in the rearview mirror. Juan watched her and the Holsteiner stroll through the 1.45m class, in two phases, as if they were simply playing around at home. No hooves, knees, or belly rubbed a rail or plank, and no time was wasted. There was no special prize for their victory. They got a nice ribbon and a neck sash, and the honor of leading the lap of honor, on which Dirk acted like he was getting repeatedly stung by bees. He bucked and hopped around, scooted sideways, and kicked at nothing. The crowd enjoyed his happy antics. He got a frozen chocolate banana for otherwise being a good boy. His rider and her holiday and horse show companion wanted to grab a bite to eat for themselves at Bâoli, a hip and happening spot between the stabling and the stadium, but there wasn’t enough time before the first round of the Global Champions League. Calvin required a long warm up, and Christina said that if she were going to have a meal billed as particularly special, she wanted the ability to indulge and have lots of food and that wouldn’t work if she had to ride immediately after. They had sandwiches in the VIP chalet instead, and then Caesar salad and French fries on the back of the boat later, after the St. Tropez Pirates finished the first part of the Champions League event in third place.

“Don’t let me eat too many delicious waffle fries or I won’t be able to put on the sexy nightgown I intended to bless you with after this,” the Pirate who jumped clean warned. She was sitting Indian-style on a lounger with her salad bowl in one hand and a salty, waffle-cut French fry on her fork in the other. “Well, I’ll be able to. I just won’t want to.”

“What kind of sexy nightgown?” The Spaniard sitting the same way opposite her on the end of the lounger kept his voice low. There was no one around at the rear of any of the neighboring boats, and no one on the paved walkway at the end of their gangplank. Spencer and Lucky where the only ones who could overhear the conversation.  

“It’s actually not that sexy. It’s just that I look sexy in it. And I feel like looking sexy.” Christina was completely nonchalant and carefree about how she spoke, and at what volume.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve felt pretty good for 36 hours and that hasn’t happened, consecutively, in as long as I can remember. I like to...put my body out there when I feel good.”

“You’re feeling yourself,” Juan smiled, mocking her.

“You’ll be feeling me too.”

“Multiple ways! By the way, this is the best Caesar salad I have ever had. I like your sailboat chef, cariña. I should hire him away for the restaurant.”

“Keep your paws off my chef!”

He smiled again while he was chewing, and shrugged his shoulders unevenly. You know what? He looks happy too. He has his Spain glow and we’re not even in Spain. I wonder if the glow is actually just the Away With Chris glow. I hope it is. I hope I’m the reason he looks as happy as I feel right now, ‘cause I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I feel so happy. I don’t have to think about anything. I get on and ride and it’s like it used to be- no second-guessing, no over-thinking, no trying too hard. The horses aren’t any different than they were. I think they just feel from me- from my hands, and my seat, and my legs- that I’m 100% with-it, there, capable, ready- and so it all just...works. And on top of that, I don’t have the anxiety away from them either. I’m not all, like, consumed with worry about the future, or my relationships. The expat glanced up from her bowl of kale and romaine at the Chelsea man picking through his, perhaps to find croutons. He put a sweatshirt on when they got back to Lilly XO, with athletic shorts instead of the nice ones he had on. His sleeves were pushed up. Christina watched his wrists. I love when the most pressing thing on my mind is containing my thirst. All day long I’m just like, “Gosh, Chris, stop thinking about holding onto one of those gorgeous wrists while his hand is wrapped around your throat. Staaaahp.” That’s how it should be. I hope happiness doesn’t require living on a 56m sailboat docked in one of the most glamorous ports in the world, with ideal daily weather conditions, a personal chef, and my horses sleeping closer to me than they even do at home.

“Hey.”

“What?”

She leaned over the platter of fries between them and tilted her face to the right just enough to avoid smashing him in the nose when her lips caught his completely unaware. She pushed her salty set against his for a second and then endeavored to move them with hers, to open up for her, to make a really gross tasting kiss that she absolutely had to have that very minute. He acquiesced quickly, so he must not have minded the mingling of anchovy, lettuce, and potato from the bites of food they were both enjoying before this emergency kiss that just had to happen.

And a Chelsea player, she added to her list or preconditions for happiness.