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#and you KNOW there’s no benefit in it for Louis
byooregard · 3 months
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"I'm so sorry you were burdened out of spite. I shouldn't have left you alone with him" Louis de Point du Lac could you perhaps imagine for once second in your infinite life that not everything everyone does is about you ‼️‼️
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east-of-novel · 26 days
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llycaons · 6 months
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I wish I could agree with this post bc the second half rules but what you engage with and endorse in fandom spaces actually IS indicative of your moral values because fandom doesn't exist in a cultural or ethical vacuum sorry! and I'm not going to hound op or anything but I don't trust that shit lmao
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elainemorisi · 2 months
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man truly does mortgage his soul for Daniel, damn
#and for Claudia but that one I understand better in terms of like#that needs to happen for him and the means really are secondary to the ends#but like I keep trying to draw the line to the third point (NOT trading on his relationship wrt turning Madeleine)#which like is not the same in a couple ways (he doesn't actually want it + he [thinks he] doesn't need to bargain for it#+ the actual ask is for Armand's benefit. which. hm)#but boy howdy is the invitation to do so sure extended#and then the other 'trading on his relationships' moment but it isn't is the Lestat punishment#Armand is either in no position to grant anything there or if he is Louis doesn't realize it#unrelated I also want to know where Louis (photo-eating Lestat) got 'gremlin' in s2e4#because a cursory search of transcripts suggests nobody's used that term yet#like... did... Armand?#anyway do we think I will resist the impulse to rewatch AGAIN when I finish this round we shall see#iwtv#Daniel continues to perplex tbh#with Claudia the stakes of letting her die are so high and also like. iirc Lestat's sins up until then are he's been a callous idiot#but Daniel like. it'd be rude to let him die sure but... c'mon. and Armand has just done All That#AND Louis despises him and he actually is about to leave? like! cannot take it as anything but Louis doesn't want him to?#idk maybe I'm over-weighing that Armand actually would have left but I really do think he would have#book breakup line and whatnot#actually speaking of even more horrifying in retrospect lines#Madeleine's 'why don't you want him to know how much you love him' is probably related isn't it
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pucksandpower · 1 year
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Charles Leclerc x CEO!Reader - Social Media AU
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Formula 1 News: Everything We Know About Arnault Racing So Far
The team is owned by LVMH, the world’s leading luxury goods company, and is named after the prominent Arnault family, which includes LVMH’s chief operating officer Y/N Arnault, wife of Charles Leclerc. Y/N is the youngest daughter of Bernard Arnault, the world’s richest man, and is said to be his favored successor.
They are expected to benefit from the extensive resources and expertise of LVMH which boasts a diverse portfolio of luxury brands such as Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, Moët & Chandon, TAG Heuer, and Tiffany & Co. These assets could potentially provide Arnault Racing with a competitive edge on and off the track in a sport heavily reliant on business dealings.
As with any new team, Arnault Racing will face numerous challenges including building a strong technical staff, securing talented drivers, and establishing partnerships with sponsors and suppliers. However, the backing of LVMH’s vast resources and the Arnault family’s commitment to success bode well for their prospects.
While no official announcement has been made regarding Charles Leclerc’s involvement with Arnault Racing, his familial connection to the team coupled with his recent decision to step away from Scuderia Ferrari has fueled rumors and heightened interest in whether he will be part of Arnault Racing’s driver lineup … (Read more)
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Press Conference of Arnault Racing CEO, Y/N Arnault, and Team Principal, Sebastian Vettel
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REPORT Arnault Racing snags Adrian Newey: CEO Y/N Arnault says “whatever arbitrary figure you have in your head, triple it and that’s how much we offered him” (Aug 2023)
NEWS Red Bull loses LVMH-owned sponsor TAG Heuer as entry of Arnault Racing brings new conflict of interest (Dec 2023)
UPDATE A weekend of team bonding on the beach after the car launch? Charles Leclerc and Mick Schumacher talk about flourishing environment at Arnault Racing (Feb 2024)
FEATURE What to expect from Arnault Racing — data from preseason testing explained (Feb 2024)
REPORT Podiums and points: a strong start to the season for newcomers Arnault Racing (Mar 2024)
FEATURE The Prince that was promised: Charles Leclerc triumphs in Monaco (May 2024)
UPDATE Who are the ‘losers’ and ‘winners’ halfway through the season? Arnault closes in on Red Bull as Ferrari falls behind (Jul 2024)
FEATURE What could have been — Arnault’s Charles Leclerc tops the podium in Monza as Tifosi look on (Sep 2024)
NEWS Red Bull’s reign continues as Arnault brings home historic P2 in both the Drivers’ and Contructors’ championship during debut season (Nov 2024)
REPORT Arnault promises more competitive 2025 season following already impressive first year on the grid (Jan 2025)
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“We find ourselves at the edge of our seats here in Abu Dhabi. It all comes down to this final lap of the season and the battle for the World Championship has reached its peak! Charles Leclerc of Arnault and Max Verstappen of Red Bull are locked in a fierce duel for the ultimate prize.”
“This is the moment every racing fan has been waiting for. The atmosphere here is electric and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Leclerc and Verstappen have been pushing the absolute limits of their cars and their skills throughout this intense race.”
“They certainly have. Both drivers have showcased their exceptional talent and determination all season long. It’s a clash of titans, and now, as they approach the final corners, it’s do-or-die time.”
“Leclerc has been holding onto the lead for the majority of this race but Verstappen is focused in his pursuit. The Dutchman is determined to wrestle this championship away from Leclerc’s grasp.”
“The tension is palpable here as they enter the final sector. Leclerc seems to be holding his ground but Verstappen is right on his tail, looking for the slightest opportunity to strike!”
“This is nail-biting stuff. The championship hangs in the balance as they approach the final turn. Leclerc takes a defensive line but Verstappen moves to the inside. He’s desperately trying to overtake!”
“Verstappen is side-by-side with Leclerc! They’re wheel-to-wheel! What an incredible battle! They both accelerate out of the corner …”
“They’re neck and neck! It’s an all-out sprint to the checkered flag. Who will emerge victorious?”
“Leclerc finds another gear! He edges ahead of Verstappen!”
“It’s a photo finish! They cross the line. And ... it’s Charles Leclerc! Charles Leclerc has done it! Charles Leclerc is the World Champion!”
“What an incredible end to the season. Charles Leclerc and Arnault Racing have taken the championship title in a heart-stopping finale!”
“This is the stuff of legends. Leclerc has proven himself a champion through and through today. The emotion in the Arnault Racing garage is indescribable!”
“What an amazing moment for Leclerc and his team. This race will be remembered for years to come. Congratulations to Charles Leclerc! Congratulations to Arnault Racing!”
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y/narnault
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Liked by charles_leclerc, arnaultracing, and 938,572 others
y/narnault ✨ Abu Dhabi, 2017 ✨
A chance encounter in the paddock with a hotshot young driver sent us both sprawling to the ground and ignited a spark that changed our lives forever. Our love story began in Yas Marina as Charles celebrated the end of the season after winning the F2 championship. Little did we know that this would be the start of a remarkable journey, both on and off the track
Fast forward to ...
✨ Abu Dhabi, 2025 ✨
As the CEO of Arnault Racing, it fills my heart with immense pride to witness our immensely talented driver win a much deserved World Drivers' Championship. As the wife of Charles Leclerc, it makes me even prouder to see the most amazing person I know finally be granted the fruit of his labors. There has been no sweeter feeling than chasing our dreams hand-in-hand
Eight years later, in Yas Marina once again, our journey came full circle. Our love, like a well-oiled machine, has only grown stronger with each challenge we faced. Working together as a team, we transformed dreams into reality and surpassed every limit. The joy of victory, the adrenaline of the race — it all pales in comparison to the love and support we share
To our extraordinary team at Arnault Racing, thank you for your relentless commitment and tireless efforts. Each one of you has played a vital role in making history this season and we truly could not have done it without you
Charles, my champion, you continue to inspire me every day with your talent, dedication, and resilient spirit. The road here has not always been easy but I am thankful for every obstacle we faced because they made us grow as people and as partners in both love and racing. We have weathered the storms and celebrated the triumphs. The countless hours of hard work, sacrifice, and pouring over data for so long that we forgot the cookies burning in the oven brought us to this extraordinary moment of victory. But beyond the increasingly crowded trophy cases and roaring crowds, it is our love that always shines the brightest. No matter where we may have placed in the standings, I was always content in knowing that we are P1 on the podium of life — and now we stand on top of both together
This chapter is just beginning. There are still many races left to win, many trophies left to raise, and many championships left to clinch
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charles_leclerc From the moment we met, you have seen me not just as a driver or public figure but as a person with hopes, dreams, and flaws. You have been there for me through the setbacks and the victories and your faith in me never has wavered. Your belief in me pushed me to be the best version of myself and I will spend the rest of our lives eternally grateful for being sent such an angel. Our victories are not only measured by the number of trophies or the applause of the crowds but in the quiet moments we get to bask in the life we built together. Our love has always been the beacon that guides me, even in the darkest of times. It is the constant reminder that no matter where we stand in the standings, we have each other to lean on. I have no doubt that it is because of you that I stand here today. You are my pillar of strength, my constant motivation, and my rock. Without your love and support, none of this would have been possible. Thank you, mon amour, for believing in me, for supporting me, and for always standing by my side. It is fate that brought us together and destiny that irreversibly wove our hearts into one
f1wagupdates you two are singlehandedly keeping my belief in true love alive
formulanone how are they still in the honeymoon phase after eight years together and i can’t even get a text back?
arnaultracing there are power couples and then there is THE power couple 🤩
GQ France: An Interview with 2025 Formula 1 World Champion Charles Leclerc
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charles_leclerc and y/narnault
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Liked by arnaultracing, pierregasly, and 1,854,632 others
charles_leclerc Baby Leclerc will make their F1 debut in August 🍼
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pierregasly hmmm i wonder what happened a little over nine months before the due date?
mickschumacher no wonder we couldn’t find them during the championship party 😳
arnaultracing a championship baby for our champions 🏆
lovelyleclerc oh to be reincarnated as their baby
leclercbabe it’s really getting gifted godly genes, money, and talent 😭
princecharles is it bad that i’m jealous of a baby that hasn’t even been born yet?
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onlylove4louis · 9 days
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Louis finds Armand BORING... and not because he's not Lestat. Not exactly
This is another one of those things I keep randomly thinking about. Just musings. Also, this one really shouldn't be too deep and definitely no intense, emotional dramatics 😅
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Now, the take that Louis finds Armand "boring" because Armand is not Lestat. Who I like to call; a category 5 hurricane. Definitely isn't wrong, it goes hand in hand with this one... it's just that, as everything else in this show/series, I think it's more nuanced then just that. To really get to it, I want to point out one of the fundamental differences between Lestat & Armand, as people and/or as Vampires. And then contrast (that's not the right word), with Louis. Lets start with Louis though, because I mean come on.
Louis always comes first
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Louis de Pointe du Lac, as well all should know by now, is seen as and regarded as; the most HUMAN Vampire. -- interjection real quick: I don't mean he is human, because he's not. He's still very much a Vampire. He's not any less of a Vampire, than the rest. Alot of people tend to sort of confuse that. It's just that, in comparison to OTHER Vampires, he's more human. Even Claudia didn't regard him as her own "kind", because he's too human -- He has a very human heart, he gravitates and clearly feels more comfortable, more at home... with/around humans. He relates more to humans. And while he doesn't really seem to actually like the individual human much, because he is a Vampire, and they are "food". He clearly loves humanity as a whole. Because humans and humanity = life. Louis is attracted to, desires, and ultimately THRIVES... when he's surrounded by life. He always is drawn to being as close to life, and the living, as he possibly can get. And interesting enough, even while its one of the main things about him that sets him apart from other Vampires, and has him mocked, ridiculed and ultimately outcast by them (for being other)... it's also one of the main reasons, why Vampires, particularly the more predatory ones. Are so drawn to him. He draws Vampires to him, like humans do.
Which now leads me to, Lestat
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Lestat, even as a Vampire pulses with LIFE. It just comes out of him. And it's one of the main reasons, why he too feels so at home among humans and humanity. It's why he too thrives in an environment, filled with life. For those of you who don't know that, or somehow don't see it, yet. Just wait, you will 😉 It's why he's able to blend/fit in so well with humans, and why he desires too... Even though he is better at being a Vampire, than most. So just like Louis, it's also one of the main things about him that draws other Vampires (like Armand) to him.
Now Armand, is so very NOT human. He's so far removed from humanity, from "life". And honestly not all together by choice. But other than certain things that have been done to him, and forced on him, that have shaped him into this... He is also just so OLD, as a Vampire. Therefore hasn't been a human and hasn't lived among humans for so long... The point of that being, he's not "alive". There is no humanity in Armand, there is no life or living in/with Armand. There is only death. There is only stagnation.
And there-in lies, why Louis finds Armand boring, especially in contrast to Lestat. Lestat gives off life, he breathes life. Lestat lives and surrounds himself (and Louis) with life; passion, music, art, etc. Armand, does not... All the way down to just having hobbies, he mocks and basically scoffs at the very idea of a Vampire having a 'hobby'. He has no aptitude or interest in music or art, has no interest in the human world as a whole. He barely tolerates and ultimately just humors Louis' humanity, and Louis' thirst for life. But like you do a child. You think it's cute, amusing even but you only engage with it for their benefit. Armand, to Louis is like a statue, or a painting. Static, cold, lifeless. Unmoving.
And the thing is, he was bored with Armand in Paris, he was clearly bored with Armand in San Fransisco, which came to a head:
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And he's bored with Armand in Dubai.
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In Paris, Louis had no interest in his theatre, he had no interest in his coven. He got nothing from their massacre level 'hunt parties'. Everything Armand was, everything he stood for, everything he surrounded himself by was boring to Louis. Because it was lifeless. It ultimately made a mockery of life, brought death to life, and remained wholly separate from life. To both Louis AND Lestat, it was stifling, suffocating... boring. In San Fran, Louis was having the time of his life with Daniel Molloy, for 8+hrs, while we come to find out that Armand was... sitting at home "picking LINT off the SoFa" Louis was climbing the walls, feeling suffocated by Armand. Not because he was controlling or anything like that, but because he was "beige". He was stifling in his stagnation. In Dubai, "the Vampire is BORED". He's bored with death, he's bored in his coffin/tomb. He's bored with the cold, hard stone, and white clinical lights. Beige, whites and blacks. So far above and therefore removed from, the human world. Removed from life.
In Nola, with Lestat, Louis world & life, looked like this:
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So much color, art, always music. Warm, soft lights as well as lots of wood, soft fabrics and nature, etc. So it's not Armand himself he's "bored" of, it's death, it's the static, stilted, stagnate existence. And it's not exactly Lestat he's comparing him too, or he's missing (which he is, again the take is not wrong at all), but it's passion and art and music, and growth... it's life. Which is why, when Daniel helps free Louis from Armand, for good. He immediately goes back to color, and art. He goes "home" and brings back... life.
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rafeyscurtainbangs · 1 month
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Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part
2 of 6)
+18 Minor DNI
Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader
⭐ republished ⭐
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+18 Minor DNI
Part 1
3333 words
Warnings contain spoilers: blood, domestic assault, cheating, swearing, name-calling, gaslighting, threats, and mentions of killing partner, kissing, mentions of female masturbation, ownership (you’re mine), general violence.
📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕
✨Rafe clears his throat, changing slightly in his seat, the smoothness of his approach shifting as you adjust your glasses. He looks at you, trying his best to control his anger and questioning for your benefit, but he just can’t. “Did uh… Did you have those last night?” He asks weakly, well aware of the answer. His eyes narrow in concern, his softness quickly stripped. Your jaw tightens, lashes fluttering to hold back the tears that hadn’t disappeared. You shake your head ‘no’.✨
Sexual content in pink if you want to avoid that
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Readers POV:
“Tony-”
Lights out.
That’s all I remember. The first blow of his fist to my cheek was enough to knock me out cold.
Your eyes flutter open, a burning ache claiming you immediately as you match your stare in the rearview mirror. Pain radiates from your nose. Your lip a mess with two rivers of thick blood lined to your chin. The car is empty, Tony nowhere to be found, leaving you alone in his dark garage.
Reaching over, you grab the door handle, crying out in pain, pulling your hand to your ribs. You slam your eyes shut, fear setting in as you get a taste of just how evil Tony can be. Lucky for you, he had the decency to knock you out before delivering the rest of his beating, sparing you the initial pain. I could leave. I could leave tonight, steal his car, and drive away.
But then, how will I meet him?
You shut your eyes, replaying the moment you locked eyes with him. Blue… Beautifully blue - thatcerulean stare captured yours, and for a few moments, you felt free. What was he booked for? Why was he sent to jail in the first place?
Your heart races, teeth gritted as you step out of the car, trying to push through the pain. You walk down a long line of vintage and luxury cars; the Maybach was nothing… This asshole has cars to spare.
An open spot… Vlad. Is Tony gone? You look out a small window on the garage door, the sunrise, a wash of pink and oranges, bleeds through the sky. I was in jail for 8 hours before he got me… He always takes an early flight. Hopefully, he left already. You step carefully, trying your best not to make a sound. Tony fights dirty; there’s no way you could let your guard down until you know for sure. He could be waiting for me inside.
Your heels click against the marble floor, head on a swivel as you watch for him. It’s eerie… The kitchen was a mess when you left, dirtied from your anniversary dinner, now spotless. The empty wine bottle on the counter is exchanged for a large vase of lilies and red roses.
There’s no way these are for me.
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Tears roll down your cheeks, burning as they catch the gash in your cheek, making you hiss in pain, the movement reopening the wounds on your lip, pooling fresh blood in your mouth. Your scream fills the house, a piercing cry resonating through the wings. It’s not enough. You grab the vase, sobbing as you hurl it to the floor, watching the glass shatter into a million pieces.
Water and roses spread along the marble floor as you walk away, crushing the glass under your Louis Vuitton heels. You step toward the bedroom, kicking off your shoes, tearing down the zipper, letting the satin material fall to the floor. Maybe it was cheating, perhaps it was the beating, or was it the gaslighting bullshit? Whatever the hell it was, you were seconds away from saying fuck it entirely.
Water falls from the shower head, sending steam swirling all around. The gasps and hiccups of your tears get swallowed up in the noise of the shower as you draw back the glass, stepping inside. You let out a pathetic whimper as the water pelts your skin, every nerve on fire, hot water running through your wounds. It flows down your body, circling the drain in a watercolor mess of crimson, turning pink, then clear as the blood starts to wash away. The pain dissipates, numbness taking its place.
Maybe I want to be alone. Why am I even thinking about anyone else? What if he doesn’t want me? What if he has someone else? What if he’s treating them just like Tony treats me? You grab the handle, turning off the water. Chills spread across your body as you climb out of the tub, stepping onto the cool floor before returning to the bedroom.
Your stomach sinks as you hear your phone trill. Tony… I don’t even want to listen to his voice. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I know what I saw. I can feel what he did to me. I need more time to think about my next steps. I don’t need him getting in my way or my head. You walk over to the bed, pulling your phone out of your purse. Kildare County Prison. What now? What could they possibly want? Clicking the button, you accept the call, lifting it to your ear.
“Hello?”
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳
“I’m here for visitation hours,” you announce softly.
The officer nods, standing up from his desk, walking around to the massive metal door. The alarm buzzes, hardware clanking as he opens the entry, letting you back into jail. You wander into the room, empty and clinical, with five seats and five small windows vacant on the other side. You take a chair, feeling your anxiety rise. Even though you were a mess of makeup and tears last night, your beautiful dress hanging torn on your frame, at least you weren’t beaten.
You tighten the scarf around your head, adjusting your eyeglasses to cover your bruises. Not even a pound of makeup could mask this mess. Tony did a number on you; no amount of foundation could hide that. You hear a muffled buzz from the other side of the glass. The door opens; prisoners walk out, tired and weary. Your heart skips, warming instantly as you meet the same baby blues from the night before, a breath of fresh air hitting you as you see his smile.
He’s changed since his disheveled shirt, exchanged for a uniform provided by the state. The man somehow makes it look good, his white t-shirt pulled taut across his broad chest. His hair is brushed back, not sweaty and tousled like before, giving you the perfect view of his gorgeous face. “Hi,” he mouths before sitting down, grabbing the phone off the hook. You follow suit, doing the same. The soft breathing you heard over the receiver the evening prior comes through a little louder, matching the movements of his chest.
You can feel your heart beating faster, just as excited as you were when he made his request. ‘Come to the prison tomorrow at 11 for visitor hours. I want to meet you’. You smile brightly, dampening your joy moments later as you remember just where you are. This is not a coffee shop. This is not some cute first date at the Island Club. This is prison… Then you’re hit with another blow. What if Tony found out? What if he has eyes inside? You reach for a breath, feeling panic set in, so excited at the thought of meeting him in person that you didn’t even think about the very real risk. Heat burns behind your eyes, tears glossing your vision. A lump forms in your throat, even the simple act of breathing, harder than before.
“Are you okay, princess,” he asks gently. You match his gaze, making the mistake of looking at him over the rim of your sunglasses as tears pool in your eyes.
“I’m okay,” you answer shakily.
“Are you - Fuck… Are you sure?” He asks as he goes to stand, quickly remembering the glass that separates the two of you when he tries to get a better look.
“Positive.”
“I don’t know-”
“Positive,” you stop him. He drops his head and nods, not wanting to upset you, doing his best to push past it. His brows pinch together, not believing the lies you’re selling him. “Y/n. Yeah? I hope it’s okay that I asked you here…”
“Mhmm…” You smile narrowly. “I was hoping I’d get to meet you.”
“Is that so?” He asks in a low tone, sending butterflies swirling in your stomach.
“Yeah…” You give him a small nod, stifling your grin again. “How did you know my number?”
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He takes a deep breath, relaxing in his chair, crossing one arm over his chest, tilting his head slightly to let his cheek press into the phone. “Well, I paid $500 for a name and $2,000 for your number, another 10k so you and I could talk freely. Well, as long as it’s legal, of course.”
“Seriously?” You ask. “That’s too much…”
“Nah. It’s not. Drop the bucket… I can tell you are worth far, far more than that, doll. Priceless.” You giggle and smile, your happiness making the corners of his lips pull even wider. The most perfect smile I’ve ever seen. “That laugh, princess,” he hums, his voice like honey, as he lives in each word. “I could listen to that all day if you’d let me.”
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Princess… The same pet name used by Tony in his letter, so demeaning after what he did to me, was reclaimed by this man instantly. Again, I’m lost in the moment with him, nestled in the sanctuary of my mind. What I wouldn’t do to sit next to him; smell his cologne, feel his knee brush softly against mine as he smiles down at me. I could feel the warmth of the words leaving his lips, not just hear them through the phone.
“You’re lovely,” you coo bashfully, feeling heat creep across your bruised cheeks.
Rafe clears his throat, changing slightly in his seat, the smoothness of his approach shifting as you adjust your glasses. He looks at you, trying his best to control his anger and questioning for your benefit, but he just can’t. “Did uh… Did you have those last night?” He asks weakly, well aware of the answer. His eyes narrow in concern, his softness quickly stripped. Your jaw tightens, lashes fluttering to hold back the tears that hadn’t disappeared. You shake your head ‘no’. The words that left your mouth struck him like a knife to the heart; a few shallow breaths in his broad chest was all he could muster.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll be fine?” He asks as his voice cracks with anger and emotion. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that - ‘You’ll be fine’,” he huffs. “You need to know, I know what you’re dealin’ with, and you’re far from it.” Your nostrils flare, muscles tense as you try to keep your tears from spilling over. “When I get out of here. I’m gonna take care of that for you. And, if I’m lucky, I’d like to take care of you too,” he pledges. You can tell he means every word.
“You - You don’t even know me. I don’t even know your name-”
“Rafe,” he cuts you short, the corners of his lips quivering in a slight smile he’s putting on just to ease your worry. The sheer thought of what happened to you the night prior evidently shocking him to his core. “Cameron,” he rasps out his last name, clearing his throat as he tries to gain his composure.
“It’s nice to meet you, Rafe Cameron.” His name leaves your lips, making you smile again.
“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, but can I see your eyes?” He asks sweetly. You nod, pulling the glasses off your face, before meeting his watch. “There she is,” he whispers. “You’re stunning. You know?”
“Thank you.”
“No, sweetheart. Thank you. And, it’s nice to meet you too.” You’re put at ease in his presence. Rafe seems to be the type of man who is rough for everyone and soft for you. The kind to commit heinous crimes, but don’t you dare fuck with what’s mine. He’d never do this to me… “So, we have about 10 minutes. It’s not enough time. I’m going to call you. Yeah?”
“Of course,” you answer quickly, scooting a little closer toward the glass, making him bite his lip at your excitement.
“I’m getting out of here in a week. Can you come and see me tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.
“Of course, Rafe.”
“N’he comes home in seven days-“ Rafe starts, catching you off guard as he spouts details you didn’t even know. Your confusion must be painted all over your face because he quickly assures you. “I know people. I know he’s in Monterrey; I know he’s into some pretty serious shit. So am I.”
“You are?” You ask shakily, bottom lip quivering with adrenaline. Tony never told you anything; everything was a mystery with him, dismissed and cloaked in a vain compliment to get you off his back. ‘You’re too pretty to worry about this, baby. Shh… all you gotta do is look pretty and spend Daddy’s money’. This is the most truth I’ve gotten about his dealings than I have in our entire relationship.
“I don’t like keepin’ secrets. I have a feelin’ you’re used to that shit. Not with me. Okay?”
“Okay…” you nod dutifully, nervously tapping your nails on the cool metal counter. “Well, in that case, why are you here?”
Rafe sucks his teeth and clears his throat, looking side to side, checking on the inmates sharing space with him. “Murder. Allegedly.” The blood drains from your face, your eyes widen like saucers. Murder? “I didn’t do it - I didn’t shoot that guy. I don’t even know him. I never met him a day in my life, but I gotta whole lotta enemies.”
“I suppose,” you whisper shakily.
“It wasn’t me…” There’s more that he wants to say. It’s right on the tip of his tongue. ‘It wasn’t me… this time.’ A change of scenery, and he’d probably tell you everything. “You gotta believe me. I promise-”
“I do,” you stop him, making his eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. “I believe you, Rafe.”
He looks back at you and smiles. “Good girl.” Your heart bangs in your chest, pulse thumping in your ears. “M’sorry our first conversation’s so hard. I didn’t want it to be like this… I wanna get this out of the way and put it to bed, ‘course I gotta handle business, but I’ll do the dirty work. You don’t need any more stress. After today, I don’t wanna speak about him anymore. Just you. You are the only thing I wanna talk about, princess,” he smiles, tapping gently on the glass. You rest your hand on it. Rafe does the same, pressing his large palm to match.
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The thought of a physical connection makes your head spin, the pair of you looking at each other starry-eyed. “Can I count on you to pick me up when I get out?” He asks, anxiously like you’d say anything but ‘yes.’ You nod, unsure of the timeline or how you could escape when Tony returns. “His flight doesn’t get in until 4:30. N’Tony’s got a meetin’ with a new buyer-” Rafe gives you a little nod - he’s the buyer.
“Rafe-”
He shakes his head ‘no’, stopping you before you can start. “I’m not scared of him, baby. We need to come to an understanding, him and I. He needs to understand that his actions have consequences. He needs to understand you’re mine.”
His?
I’m Rafe’s.
You stare at him like a dear in the headlights yet again, stunned silent by his words. “Do you want that, princess?” He asks as he looks back at you.
“I do.”
Rafe shakes his head and smiles, slightly confused like he can’t believe what you’re saying. “I gotta week to make a plan. I have to get to him. You think you could help me with that?” Your stomach turns as you replay Rafe’s first lie. His mouth said ‘conversation’ but his eyes said ‘execution’. A conversation is not just a conversation. I’m not stupid. “You gotta act normal when you’re around him, princess. Business as usual. Do you think you can do that f’me?” You nod in agreement. “You’re going to do so good, baby. You’re brave. All right? You’re here. Aren’t you? You’re not afraid to take a risk. I mean, you’ve been here, after all,” he adds as he swirls his finger, gesturing to his confinement. “What did a sweet thing like you do to end up in here anyway?” He questions, cocking his head slightly as he fights back a smirk.
“I uhh…” You giggle breathily, still uneasy about what you can and can’t share, attempting to feed Rafe just enough to answer his question, not enough to incriminate yourself any further. “I trashed his truck.”
”The Maybach?” Rafe asks with a lifted brow; the smirk pulling wider as he tilts his body into the glass, his strong forearms resting on the countertop. You give him a nod ‘yes’. “That’s a two hundred thousand dollar ride, sunshine. Uhh, with what?” He asks as he scratches at his 5’o’clock shadow, a fire burning in his eyes, taking pleasure in your little stunt.
“A bat.”
“A bat. Huh? Well, fuck doll, You’ll be just fine.”
Your shoulders fall as your body relaxes a little more. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I will be alright. Maybe I can pull this off. “Okay,” you answer, starting to believe the words he’s saying yourself.
“After I hash out everything with Tony, I’m gonna take you out for a drink, and we’ll celebrate all night.”
You smile bashfully, his proposal clouding your brain; thoughts drifting away as he baits you with his proposition. He’s not saying a lot, but saying so much at the same time. ‘All night’… Drinks, celebration; sex… Freedom? Maybe, if everything goes his way, which I have a feeling it usually does.
“Words, angel,” Rafe hums, pulling you out of your haze.
You smile back at him, hungry-eyed, finding yourself impatient for the time to come already. “All night…”
Rafe licks his lips, savoring what little he can see of you. You can only imagine what he’s thinking, looks alone telling you that he’s picture a million and one ways he can make you scream his name. “Beautiful.”
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳
It had been a week… A week of getting to know him. A week of Rafe Cameron. Praise. Promises. The possibility of what a life could look like with him. Of course, there’s a chance it could all go to shit. What would I do then? What would I do if Tony did something to Rafe?
I guess Tony’s something I’ll have to take care of if that time comes. But what if he takes my life? I guess either way I’ll be free.
Your week went like clockwork: visitation at nine, a phone call every night at four. Rafe’s voice filled your ears, saving you from your dark thoughts, filling you with light. As he promised, there was no talk of Tony; the two of you more focused on getting acquainted with each other to worry about much more.
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When 4 pm struck you pulled out your phone, waiting impatiently for Rafe’s call. It rang a moment later, making you scramble for the accept button. The rug was pulled out from underneath you after your sweet ‘hey, baby,’ and Tony’s ‘hello, darling’. His voice on the other end of the line was gut-wrenching leaving you to maintain that same bliss reserved for Rafe.
It taught you one thing, though… you were a much better liar than you imagined, acting like the steadfast, naive girlfriend you’ve played so many times before when you fed into the bullshit. ‘Are you having fun in Mexico, baby? Did you get to go to the beach, handsome? I can’t wait for you to come home, daddy. I miss you.’ And, he ate it all up, more than usual even. The guilt of his little “lesson” still weighing heavily on his icy heart, apparent in every whispered ‘I love you’ and “You know you’re my girl. Right?’
Wrong.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳
You lean slightly outside your Magnum XE, waiting for Rafe. Catching the mirror, you check your makeup; almost all of the harm caused by Tony is covered up or faded away. You’re restless, drumming your hands on the leather steering wheel while waiting for him. You leave the car, walking around the front, adjusting your pink fur coat before sitting pretty on the hood. I wanna look good for him.
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Last night was just a taste. You bite your lip, thinking about your phone conversation with Rafe. It was the first exchange that was more than just sweet and assuring, turning risky fast. It started with Rafe asking what you were wearing, ending with you, a panting mess in his ear as he talked you through it all. You soaked your fingers just like he asked as he set the pace, telling you what to do and when, praising you for doing such an good job for him. He promised he’d take care of you… And he did.
Fuck, I can’t wait to thank him myself.
You watch the door swing open, that very same door you walked out of just days before, but unlike you, Rafe is all smiles. That smile… He slings his bag over his shoulder, shooting you a wink that has you giggling like a schoolgirl.
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Your heart patters as he steps closer, moving with a purpose. He takes you into his arms, stealing your breath as his lips lock with yours in a deep, passionate kiss. Rafe’s hand wraps around the back of your neck, the other bound around your waist, needing you closer. You live in the moment, memorizing the shape of his body in yours. The smell of his cologne lingers lightly on the shirt he had on when he stumbled into his cell that night, the scent of it somehow already so familiar. You grab onto his button-down, tugging him in, causing him to smile against your lips.
“Hi, princess.”
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Part 3
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1d1195 · 10 months
Text
Dolcezza I
You know me and my need for love at first sight.
This is where I’ll keep her: Dolcezza
Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of stalking
~5.5k words
Definitely multi-part. This part is mostly from the MC perspective. The very end peeks into Harry's brain and the second part will likely pick up more onto his POV.
Hope you enjoy!
“You really don’t need to trouble yourself,” she promised.
Harry turned pausing by the shelf pressed against the wall. “D’you really want me t’leave?” He asked with a frown. “M’sorry. I jus’... really want t’help you, kitten,” he explained. “S’like I need to. S’almost... compulsive... but I’ll leave if y’want me to.”
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“No, I’m totally fine, thank you,” she said into her phone.
“Are you sure?” Eleanor asked. “I can send Louis over.”
“No, no, that’s so unnecessary, El. Really. I’ll be fine.”
She could hear her best friend sigh heavily into the speaker. Eleanor was nearly a thousand miles away. She got a new job and while the benefits and everything about it were great, and would make Eleanor wildly successful, she was sadly away from her platonic soulmate. It was extremely hard to let her go. Worse, Louis would be joining her just as soon as he nailed down a new job out there.
But Louis was around for now, which was a great relief for Eleanor. Her best friend was a lot of things, but aware of how scary her situation wasn’t one of them. Louis knew he was essentially filling as best friend for the time being and he was expected to drop everything to get to her aid if Eleanor said so.
But that would only last so long.
Eleanor didn’t want to think about that right now.
She was carrying a box from her car toward the building. Her shoulder pressing her phone to her ear as best she could. Beside the building was a small little alley where her entry way to her new place resided. As much as it killed her to pay for it, she got a whole moving company to bring her furniture in already so at the rest was pretty standard. Her family, God love them, didn’t even think that she might need some help. If anything, she would have had to bribe them into helping her. Even if it was just for the furniture. If Eleanor was in town she would have helped with the boxes and other stray things she had heaped in her car.
Even with Eleanor’s presence closer, she felt alone. Eleanor had Louis and she would never fault her for that. Louis was everything she would want in a best-friend-in-law. But there was always this element of not fully having Eleanor—not like when they were in college and sharing a dorm room. It was different now. Not bad, but different. Her family was great but a little self-centered at times. Part of the problem, she dropped everything to help them whenever they asked but they rarely returned the favor. She did it all, so why would she need help?
Fortunately, moving allowed her to downsize quite a bit so her mid-sized SUV was able to hold almost all of her boxes in one trip from her storage unit to the new place. Maybe, this even helped her explain away her family’s lack of help.
But her brother was either busy working at the college dispatch center most of the weekend or playing beer pong at a frat party. Her sister was so wrapped up in her high school love life or maybe just being the princess her mom and dad made her out to be by never making her do anything of importance. Her parents were probably waiting on her hand and foot without even realizing. If not, they were probably creating some sort of computer-virus havoc on their home computer that for some reason her sister wouldn’t be able to fix. Or maybe they finally started fixing the kitchen up as they said they would for the last year waiting for their oldest to come home and fix all the little things they broke in the process.
If she thought about it too long, she would get annoyed. Her brother and sister were more than capable of helping and they just didn’t. It drove her nuts. So, at the end of it, she couldn’t bother her family for help. Because it barely felt like they could help themselves.
She was lucky because the alleyway wasn’t creepy. Not even at night. The whole street was a dream come true really. Part of her thought that despite the circumstance, this was actually a much-needed move. It was almost lucky that she found such an amazing place. Her own parking space right out front of the building, a coffee shop—a mere stone’s throw from said parking space—almost everything she needed was within walking distance. It was perfect.
Of course, the best and most wonderful selling point of all was by far that her new apartment was right above an Italian restaurant. It smelled like fresh pasta, garlic, and just the most comforting of scents. It reminded her of Sunday’s making meatballs with her dad and watching sports with her brother and sister.
When her coworker Mitch told her about the place, she thought it was too good to be true. But Mitch knew someone who worked at the restaurant. The owner, Antonio, was looking for a tenant after he informed Mitch’s friend that he was outgrowing the space. It was a generous size. But it was meant for a place to stay and keep watch over the restaurant—max two people and that was pushing it. The little place could not support Antonio, his wife, their first born, and another little one on the way. Four people was too big for this place.
But it was perfect for a girl who loved garlic bread and spaghetti who needed a new place and wouldn’t mind the smell of olive oil all hours of the day.
“How did you find this place?” Eleanor asked, her third-degree questioning tone was present in her voice.
“A friend of a coworker,” Eleanor already knew this.
“Mitch?” She clarified.
“Yes, Mom, Mitch,” she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know how you can be so blasé about all this. It’s serious!” She reminded her. “I’m not even there to protect you.”
She didn’t need to be protected. She had a restraining order. The police in the area were well aware of the situation and she was almost always at home or traveling one day a week to work. If she ran errands, it was always in public spaces. She only ever worked out at a public female-only gym. Plus, she had given Louis her location. All of it was nearly a non-issue. “I don’t even know how I got a stalker,” she muttered grumpily. The whole thing was an inconvenience. If it wasn’t for Eleanor, she probably wouldn’t have even gotten the restraining order.
“You’re too nice,” Eleanor reminded her.
She sighed, tired of the story. It had been almost a year since the creepy sensation of the guy following her had started. Eleanor had approached him on more than one occasion to get rid of him. But the whole thing seemed like a bigger deal than it needed to be. The guy was basically harmless; if not just a little bit more on the creepy side. He couldn’t take the hint that she wasn’t interested and had a hard time letting go. He kept a huge distance from her—she wasn’t even sure she knew the color of his eyes from how far away he followed her. If he was around, she hardly noticed. “Well, I’m moving to a whole new place now so it should be fine now.”
“You didn’t tell anyone else about your address change?”
“Nope, just HR,” she promised. “As far as everyone knows I’m still living in that crummy apartment.”
“Well, maybe this is a blessing that you’re out of there anyway,” Eleanor sighed, relief in her voice. “How do you like this place?”
She smiled dropping the box in the middle of the room before she closed the door and descended the staircase back to her car to grab more boxes. “El, it’s literally perfect. It’s like the apartment of my dreams.”
“How come no one at the restaurant wanted it?”
“When you come visit, we can go and ask all the questions—”
As she entered the alleyway from her apartment entrance she was pushed to the ground. The rattling of glass bottles clinked, clattered, and broke on the pavement. She already felt the bruise forming on her tailbone from landing so hard on the ground. In the process she dropped her phone, and she could hear Eleanor shouting from the speaker. “Ouch,” she muttered.
“Don’t move!” She turned to the sound of the guy in the alleyway with her—he was hurrying to his feet having also toppled to the cold, hard ground. He was wearing all black. Short sleeves even though it was a chillier fall day—showing off an array of tattoos that lined his muscular arms. His black pants had fingerprints and handprints of flour on them. There was something dark colored—probably tomato sauce—dried on the half apron around his hips. He clearly worked in the restaurant. The bag of bottles he was previously carrying ripped open and was broken on the ground. “M’so sorry, Principessa,” his voice was smooth and warm. “Antonio told me y’were moving in today. Should’ve been more careful,” he frowned grabbing her wrists without a thought and hauling her to her feet to get her off the cold ground and away from any broken glass. “M’so sorry,” he repeated making sure she was steadily on her feet. He turned her hands over inspecting them so delicately. Like she was the glass that had broken at their feet. “Are y’alright, Principessa?”
The silence coming from Eleanor on her phone was nearly deafening. She blinked a few times as she gazed at the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. His hair was the color of melted milk chocolate and looked like it had been sculpted of the very substance into the most unfairly beautiful curls any man should have been allowed to have. His cheeks were smooth except for the stubble lining his incredibly sharp jawline. His lower lip was chapped, and she realized how close she was to face to notice such a thing. Probably from the way he was biting it with the worry that he had hurt her. But they were still very rosy—like pink wine and much like the rest of him, very, very pretty.
He picked up her phone out of the debris. Wiping it on his apron then brought it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Oh, God,” she whispered to herself, trying to process the last two minutes. Eleanor was going to lose her mind.
“Uh... m’Harry... She’s fine—I think... Are y’okay, Principessa?” His gaze turned back to her.
It felt like her heart stopped as her eyes connected with the beautiful green ones looking back at her. It was unfair someone like Harry was that pretty.
She nodded, holding her hand out for her phone. He returned it to her immediately and she cleared her throat. “I’m fine, El. Promise.”
“Principessa?!” She gasped. “Oh. My. God.”
“I’ll call you later,” she whispered feeling her face warm as Harry inspected the mess.
“M’sorry, Principessa,” he repeated for a fourth time. If he called her Principessa again though, she might fall right back on her sore tailbone. “Wasn’t expecting you t’come out the door,” he frowned. “Did y’get cut at all?” He asked, scanning her quickly from head to toe. She was dressed for moving on a cool fall day. A chunky sweatshirt, a pair of joggers, and trainers. Her hair was pulled tight to keep out of her face.
She was the furthest thing from looking like the princess that he kept calling her. “Oh...no... I’m alright,” she promised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Don’t apologize, kitten, s’entirely my fault.”
She shook her head rapidly trying to get some neural networks firing. “Really, I’m okay,” she smiled gently. “I should have watched—”
“M’serious, s’my fault,” he interrupted again.
“Harry, what’s the hold—” Antonio entered the alleyway but stopped his train of thought looking at the pair of them. “Oh, hi, tesorino,” he had called her that a lot since he spoke and met with her. “See you’ve met Harry,” he looked at the broken bag and the glass. “Did he hurt you?” He asked.
“No!” Harry glared at him, a frown adorning his pretty lips and a matching pinch between his brows. Harry looked adorable when he was angry. “I didn’t Principessa, did I?” He turned back to her looking apologetic again.
“No, I’m sincerely fine,” she promised shoving her phone into the pocket of her joggers. “I should have watched where I was—”
“No, no, tesorino,” Antonio shook his head. “It’s Harry’s fault. M’sure.” What kind of reality was this? Antonio reminded her of Louis or a much older brother—maybe even a young dad, but not like her dad. She imagined Louis saying the same kind of taunting thing to Eleanor or even herself. It was surreal. A cute guy bumped into her when she was starting fresh. It was like fate—a new start and a new guy. “I’ll get you a broom, Harry. Make sure she’s alright.”
“Yes sir,” he nodded firmly. Antonio disappeared back to the restaurant to get the broom.
“I’m really fine,” she promised.
Harry was smiling now, he bent down to get the big pieces of glass that shattered and carefully placed them on the broken plastic bag. “M’glad, Principessa,” he hummed quietly.
“Uh...” she smiled awkwardly and stepped to the side. “I should get out of the way...” she trailed off and started for the street to gather more of her stuff.
“Here,” Antonio reappeared with a broom and a new bag, passing it off to Harry. “Tesorino, are you sure you’re alright?” Antonio had an Italian accent. It made her smile and even if she was hurt, she was sure that she wouldn’t—couldn’t feel any pain because it was so comfortable being around an Italian restaurant where people worried about her.
“I’m really, truly fine,” she promised.
Harry was quick to pick up all the glass and took a few steps around the area to catch any of the broken pieces. It seemed this wasn’t the first time this had happened. It was like she was glued to her spot watching Harry take the collected glass down the alleyway to one of the dumpsters. “Do you need help moving your stuff upstairs?” Antonio asked.
“Oh no, that’s alright, I’m fine—”
“Harry, help her with her stuff,” he ordered, ignoring her brush-off. “Her car is out front.”
Harry handed the broom back to his boss and hurried to the front of the building. “Hey!” She frowned and looked at Antonio. “I don’t need help—”
“Tesorino, please. S’no big deal. Harry would be happy to help.” Harry was already coming back with what she knew was a heavy box labeled ‘kitchen’ and heading for the stairs. Truthfully, she was dreading carrying that one, so she was grateful Harry was literally doing the heavy lifting for her but didn’t want him to feel like he had to. “He helped us move our stuff out already and into our new home,” he shrugged. “Come down for some lasagna for dinner,” he said heading back toward the front.
The entire interaction had left her so completely confused. Harry was beautiful and clearly a cook of some sort in the kitchen of the restaurant. Currently, he was up in her new apartment putting her box in the kitchen. Right as she came to the door to head after him, he bumped into her again, reappearing from the door so quickly, she almost fell right back to the ground. This time, Harry caught her around the waist. “M’sorry, Principessa. I don’t know why I keep getting in y’way,” he frowned.
He released her waist just as quickly as he caught her before heading back for her car. The warmth of his arm around her body lingered as she followed him. “You don’t have to help.”
“S’no problem, kitten,” he shrugged grabbing a box labeled ‘bedroom’ that she knew had an array of random things including an assortment of old CDs, a few pictures, and everything from her nightstand—including a box of condoms. Just the knowledge of knowing he was carrying them was enough to make her face warm. She frowned, hurrying to grab a box herself. “Y’don’t have any friends t’help you?” He asked over his shoulder as he made himself at home coming to stop in front of the second door in the little hall at the top of the steps. Beside her apartment was a second office for the restaurant. Antonio assured her that he was the only person who used it and at this point in time, it was mostly storage. Either way, she didn’t mind. The place was a steal and beyond helpful for her new start. Especially with Eleanor breathing down her neck worrying about her.
“I don’t like to bother people with something I can do myself,” she explained quietly while pushing the door out of the way for Harry to enter—but he waited for her to go first. A silent direction in his eyes as he stood still with the box in his hands. After an awkward pause, she went in first.
Unfortunately, she was compelled to fill the silence with more explanation. “My best friend got a new job—so she’s unavailable. She offered her boyfriend but he’s working. My other friends... no one wants to help move. You know?” She explained. But it was hard to hide the catch in her throat while she spoke. No one wanted to help her.
It was weird to have a conversation with Harry like that. It was a little personal, nothing crazy. But apparently, it divulged enough. “S’unfair, Principessa,” his voice was so gentle. “M’sure you’d help if they asked—or even if they didn’t ask.”
How on earth could some stranger possibly know that about her without so much as speaking for more than ten full minutes? There was a jolt of sadness that washed through her. But she pushed it aside and frowned at the stranger who seemed to read right through her without so much as a second glance. “They would help if I asked,” she murmured. But it felt like sand in her mouth as she said it because she knew it was a lie.
Harry didn’t harp on it though. He glanced around the empty space. “Are y’new to the city?” He asked.
“No... not really,” she shrugged. “I used to live just a couple towns over.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “D’you have a lot more?” He asked.
She shook her head. “No, not really. You... you grabbed the heavy kitchen one. So, it should be easy from here on out.”
“Great,” he smiled. “I’ll get Niall, we’ll be done in half an hour.” Harry left her breathless for more than one reason. He hurried back down and stopped outside of the restaurant. She was practically running to catch up.
Dolcezza was written in cursive script above the big window showcasing the beautiful restaurant. Most Italian restaurants always seemed so darkly lit. This one looked so warm and cozy and on the brighter side. It reminded her of her grandparents’ house.
Harry pulled the door open. “Niall!” He shouted. Without waiting for whoever Niall was, Harry turned to her car to grab the next box.
Niall was a little less than half a foot shorter than Harry. His eyes were the color of the sky in the middle of June, and he had an adorable smile. “What’re you doing?” He asked Harry as he walked by with a box. “Hey tesorino,” he winked at her.
“Grab a box,” Harry nodded his head toward the open car and continued for her apartment once more.
What the heck!?
She stumbled to get a box herself and hurried to follow the two guys moving her stuff into her new place. But she had to give credit where credit was due. Harry was right. Thirty minutes, and everything in her car was now in the apartment. Niall headed back to the restaurant without a word, but Harry stayed behind. “D’you need help with anything, kitten?” He asked sweetly.
She couldn’t possibly imagine him helping her more than he already had. “N-no, thank you. That was...really helpful. I can take it from here.”
“Jus’ come grab me from downstairs if y’do think of something, kitten. Antonio won’t mind,” he promised. He smiled at her once more and looked around. His gaze stopped on the tall bookshelf. He walked toward it and looked at each side. He pulled a little bag of screws that were taped to the side and put it in plain view. “Make sure y’anchor that bookshelf before putting books on it. Don’t want it falling on you,” he mentioned kindly. She frowned. In her old place, her bookshelf was recessed into the wall. Having built the new shelf so the movers could take it the other day, she truly hadn’t thought about it. She only taped the little bag to the inside of the shelf so she knew what it belonged to when she created a junk drawer in the kitchen.
“Er... right,” she nodded—unconfidently.
Harry looked her over again, sizing her up, as if he knew she didn’t know how to do that and was too proud to ask. “I’ll come back up before dinner t’do it. D’you have a screw gun and such?”
“I can Google how to do it if I need to,” she assured him knowing that if he didn’t say anything, she wouldn’t do it. “I doubt I can put holes in the wall like that.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t worry, Principessa, I’ll tell Antonio. He won’t argue.”
“It’s really—”
“M’offering myself, kitten. S’nothing t’worry ‘bout. M’happy t’help. S’no trouble at all.”
It was jarring. That was the only way to describe it. It was as if Harry could read her thoughts and see on her face that she didn’t want to trouble someone on her behalf. “Antonio s’not kidding ‘bout lasagna either, Principessa. He’ll want y’down between five-thirty and six. Come down t’eat or he’ll make me come up here t’get you.”
*
“Who was that?” Eleanor asked in greeting as she answered the phone.
“Hi Eleanor, the move has been going well. I’m about to start unpacking boxes and arranging everything. How has your day been?” She answered with an eye roll.
“Shut up, tell me about the guy, principessa,” her voice was nearly hysterical. Her tone was almost mocking with the nickname Harry had bestowed upon her. It made her stomach flip to hear even Eleanor say it.
Sighing, she put her head on the counter of her new kitchen. She eyed the heavy box Harry had put there on the floor. “His name is Harry. He works at the restaurant,” she explained. “Antonio had him help me with all the boxes and stuff, his friend Niall too.”
“I don’t care about that. What does he look like?!” The pause was telling. She knew it. “Wow,” Eleanor sighed. “He is so hot, you’re speechless.”
Rolling her eyes again, she was glad Eleanor couldn’t see her cheeks burning red at the correct assumption. “He’s cute,” she managed.
“Oh puh-lease,” she gasped. “What a cute little story you’ll be able to tell your grandchildren.”
“Can you relax? I talked to him for twenty minutes and mostly about moving.”
“Mostly?!”
“Sweet Jesus,” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes trying to think of the fastest way to get rid of her friend from making her crazy. “He correctly identified that I have shitty friends who wouldn’t help me move even if I had asked. He also got his friend Niall to help with the boxes in my car. And when I came back from the storage unit with a second load, they ran out in the middle of a lunch rush to help anyway.”
“You could sell movie rights,” Eleanor sighed dreamily.
She rolled her eyes. “His boss made him help.”
“His boss made him call you principessa too?”
“He called me kitten too.”
“Oh, you’re so going to marry him.”
“I have to unpack my house now.”
“What does he smell like?”
“You are insane.”
There was a knock on her door.
“Wonder who that is,” Eleanor practically sang. She glanced at the stove clock. It wasn’t even five o’clock. Not time to head down for lasagna. After the crazy afternoon she had, she wanted to make sure she didn’t give a reason to the funny cooks and owner downstairs that were helping her a reason to waste their time with her. She truly planned to head down for lasagna as they asked. But part of her thought Harry was joking about the bookshelf.
With the phone still against her ear, she pulled the door out of the way and found Harry. He was not joking. There was a screw gun at his side. “Hi Principessa,” he grinned so brightly it made a dimple in both cheeks appear. “M’gonna anchor y’bookshelf and then take y’down t’get lasagna,” he maneuvered right by her without so much as an okay.
“You really don’t need to trouble yourself,” she promised.
Harry turned pausing by the shelf pressed against the wall. “D’you really want me t’leave?” He asked with a frown. “M’sorry. I jus’... really want t’help you, kitten,” he explained. “S’like I need to. S’almost... compulsive... but I’ll leave if y’want me to.”
“Don’t you dare let him leave,” Eleanor said to her ear, her voice was practically a sigh. She and Harry stood feet apart gazing at one another.
But it felt so bad getting help from Harry. “Well...er... if you’re really sure it’s not a bother,” she murmured.
“Not at all, Principessa,” he smiled. “Promise,” he nodded. “S’jus’ a couple minutes and then I’ll bring y’down.”
“Eleanor, I gotta go.”
“I can’t wait to give my maid of honor speech at your wedding.”
She hung up on her friend. Harry was quick. He was shifting the bookshelf away from the wall. He snagged the little package of screws taped to the side. “Can I help?” She asked tossing her phone on the couch.
“I think m’alright, principessa. Thank you,” he said kindly, like he wasn’t doing her a favor by doing this. It was quiet while he worked. At one point he did drop one of the little screws and she was quick to grab it and place it in his hand for him. “Thanks, kitten,” he hummed quietly. His expression was so concentrated as he fixed up the shelf.
It wasn’t much, honestly. She knew that. It was just a bookshelf. But it was somehow so much more. Her heart felt so out of place. Her throat felt tight with emotion bubbling to the surface. No one had ever done anything like this before. A near stranger at that. Probably because it was so much more. It was a worry about her safety which people nearly forgot—unless they were Eleanor and by extension Louis.
She turned away briefly and busied herself with pulling throw pillows from the box labeled living room. Harry hummed quietly to himself. It was soothing. For a moment she forgot about who she was and that she had moved because she had a stalker. If she was a little more vulnerable feeling, she might have cried. It wasn’t the time, but she felt like she had known Harry her whole life. But she had barely spoken more than a hundred and fifty words to him. It was feeling extremely domestic in her new place even though hardly anything was unpacked.
The whole place was one wide open room kitchen and living area. There was a little space she designated for a table for sitting at and along the front wall by the window she planned on putting her desk. There was so much she needed to do. There were three doors along the back wall of the apartment. A bathroom, a bedroom, and a little alcove where a washer and dryer resided. She was lucky the owner lived here previously as she was certain there wouldn’t be a washer and dryer otherwise and that may have deterred her from taking the place. The idea of lugging her laundry up and down the stairs to a laundromat was not something she wanted to do in her late twenties.
“Oh crap,” she frowned. Realizing her state of being at the thought of walking up and down the steps all day.
Harry paused and turned to her. “Y’okay, principessa?” He frowned as well. His eyes looked her over with worry.
“Yeah...no, I just... I have to change before I head down there,” she sighed.
Harry smiled and turned back to his task. He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Oh, y’could go like that, I think y’look beautiful,” he said sweetly.
Her heart rate took off rapidly. She could feel her cheeks warming but she knew her hair was pulled back and little pieces had frizzed and fallen from the elastic. She knew she was sweaty and there was simply no way she looked beautiful.
She snorted awkwardly. “Uh...thank you,” she cleared her throat. “But I would feel better if I changed.”
“I’ll wait outside, then,” he promised. “Jus’ finishing this last bit,” he murmured his attention focused on securing the screws perfectly.
“I’ll be quick,” she promised.
“Take y’time, principessa. M’in no rush,” he stood after finishing the final bit. He stepped back outside the apartment. God, he was nice. It had to be the fastest time she had ever gotten ready for anything. Changing out of comfy clothes and into jeans and a blouse that she would wear to her team meetings, so it didn’t look like she was wearing pajamas to work. She slipped on a pair of the first presentable ankle boots she could find a pair of in the box of shoes that was still unpacked. After she found a clip to pull her hair back in a more presentable fashion.
“Oh, wow,” Harry smiled dreamily as she stepped into the hall and locked her door. “Didn’t know y’could get any more beautiful. In less than five minutes too. M’gonna faint when y’have more than a minute,” he smiled and headed down the stairs as if he hadn’t just stolen her heart.
She was a little surprised he went down the stairs first, but she was grateful because maybe he wouldn’t be able to tell she was shaky and gripping the railing to keep her upright after Harry’s sweet compliment. But she realized it was merely so he could open the door carefully and make sure she wouldn’t bump into someone in the alleyway. Once he decided the alleyway was cleared, he gestured for her to exit first. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“For what, kitten?” He smiled as he closed the door behind him.
“Being helpful and nice. I... I’m not really used to that,” she admitted.
The grin on his face was kind. He shoved his freehand in his pocket and shrugged. “Happy t’help y’principessa,” he winked and headed for Dolcezza, surely to open the door for her first.
“Why did he name it Dolcezza?” She asked following behind him.
Harry smiled and glanced over his shoulder to wink at the pretty girl. “It means sweetness. Antonio met his wife when he was studying business, called her la mia dolcezza. He always wanted t’own a restaurant but never knew what t’name it. He knew the second he met her,” he shrugged. “S’a cute story.”
“Very sweet,” she smiled as she walked by Harry to enter the warm and homey restaurant. She was correct in her assumption that he would hold the door open for her. He chuckled at her joke.
There was something about the girl he literally bumped into and proceeded to fall for instantly physically and emotionally. He wasn’t lying when he said it was compulsive to help her. The warmth he felt inspecting her hands for injury and the worry he felt when she didn’t seem sure of anchoring her bookshelf. The thought that she was just above the restaurant that he nearly lived at more than his own place was comforting. A tug on his heart he didn’t know where it came from but couldn’t help it. Harry had never felt such an emotion like this for someone he had just met. It was like he had known her his whole life and he hadn’t spent more than an hour in total speaking to her. But he wanted to spend forever talking to her now that he had a glimpse of someone so beautiful and gentle.
It took every bit of inner strength for Harry to refrain from telling her he would name every child, every restaurant, anything he could name, he would dedicate to her.
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--
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Dolcezza: @matildasatellite
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If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.
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daisyblog · 7 months
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Love Day
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Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN celebrate their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.
“Happy Valentine’s Day baby!” Harry whispered to YN, whose eyes were still closed as they laid in bed. With his hand resting on her now rounded tummy, Harry placed a small peck to her exposed skin, where his white t shirt at risen up her bump. “And happy Valentine’s Day to my other favourite girl!”. 
YN’s lips turned up slightly when she felt his lips kissing her baby bump, where their little girl was growing nicely. “Happy Valentine’s Day Mr Styles!”. YN tugged at his arm so he was now hovering above her, her hands sitting on his bare shoulders.
“G’morning Mrs Styles!”. Harry smiled into the kiss, their lips moving slowly against the other. Their hands gently exploring the others body. “God I love calling you my wife.”. 
Wednesday had started with a lazy morning for the newly wed couple, Harry had made them both breakfast in bed, which later resulted with their clothes being thrown on the floor and the pair tangled in between the sheets. 
Before they got out of bed, Harry pulled a white envelope from behind his back. “I know we said we weren’t going to do presents…but I couldn’t resist this one and it’s kind of for both of us”. 
“Harry!” YN whined and her now plump lips from a busy morning pouted. “We agreed”. She carefully opened the envelope and inside was an appointment card for a private baby scan dated for that day. “Is this a joke?”. 
“No…no joke baby”. Harry reassured her, as he smiled brightly, his white teeth on full display. “We’re going to see our baby!” YN pulled him closer and placed her lips on his whilst she mumbled ‘thank you’ over and over again. 
After showering and getting ready for the day, they headed out for the afternoon for a walk around London. They had stopped off at a small coffee shop for a drink and some donuts. They were sat at the back of the cosy vintage shop and Harry couldn’t help but smile as YN took a bite of her donut. 
“Whot?” YN eyed Harry suspiciously, wondering why he was grinning at her all of a sudden. She dabbed the napkin against her mouth quickly. “Do I have something on me face?”.
“No…I was just thinking about our first Valentine’s Day and now we’re married with our baby girl on the way”. Harry’s hand naturally went to YN’s tummy, where he could feel some movement of their daughter. 
“I guess our wishes did come true!”. 
---
12th of February 2012
As One Direction were on tour in Glasgow on Valentine’s Day, Harry had planned for YN to stay at the flat after their London show to celebrate early. He wanted to wine and dine her, but with YN still being seventeen it just wasn’t possible. So to Harry’s benefit, Louis was travelling to Scotland earlier than the rest of the boys which meant he had the flat to himself. 
Whilst YN was in the bath, and pampering herself ahead of the relaxing night they had planned, Harry was getting the living room ready with blankets, pillows, duvets, snacks and everything else they needed. He had just finished lighting some candles, that created a soft glow in the room, when YN entered. 
YN was cuddled on Harry’s lap, the film playing in the background as they both spoke, not really paying attention to the film. YN’s fingers played with the strings on Harry’s hoodie. “Do you ever think about the future?”.
“Yeh quite a bit actually” he confessed, as he moved his hand to YN’s exposed thigh. “Why? Do you?”.
She only nodded as her fingers continued to twist the cotton. “What do you want yours to look like?”. 
Harry scratched the back of his neck, whilst he thought. “I want to be happy…I’d like to have a wife and children…uh yeah keep making music and touring”. He could see YN try to hide her smile. He wanted to add that he’d like that life with her, but only being a few months into their relationship he was worried it may come across too much. “What about you?”. 
“Well I’m just going to be really forward…I want to be your wife and have a family with you”. YN said matter of fact. Harry could feel the pink appear on his cheeks as he tried to act cool about the conversation. 
---
Entering the small private clinic, Harry and YN were greeted with a warm welcome from the lady behind the reception desk. “Oh waw…you are glowing!”. She complimented YN as she stood in front of her. 
“Aww thank you…I think being pregnant is my new favourite thing!”. YN smiled and let out a chuckle at Harry’s raised eyebrows. 
The receptionist took some details from YN before they were both told to sit in the waiting room. They didn’t have to wait long until a young female called. 
“Mrs Styles?”. Her voice was soft and a warm smile filled her face. They followed her into a smaller room which had a bed and a few chairs by the side of it. “Come on in…I’m Jessica and this is Paula”. She pointed towards the older woman who sat on a chair near a desk. 
“Ahh so you’re the famous Harry that Jess is always talking about!” Paula revealed, a teasing tone to her voice, showing the type of relationship the two colleagues had. 
“Paula!”. The younger of the two gave her a warning look. But Harry and YN only laughed and reassured her that it was okay. “I am a fan…but I am professional and I wouldn’t reveal any of your details”. 
“You’re alright babe…it’s nothing I wouldn’t reveal myself”. YN’s laid back tone was enough to reassure her. 
YN laid down on the bed, Harry taking a seat next to the bed. They had been to a few scans already so it was like second nature to them both now. As Jessica got the probe ready, YN pulled up her jumper and lowered her leggings down that exposed her bump. 
Within a few minutes, they could see their baby girl moving her arms and legs around on the smaller screen. “Oh you have a very active little one”. 
“She’s following her Daddy!”. YN teased Harry. 
“You know you’re having a little girl…how sweet!”. Paula smiled over to the couple, totally in her element at the scene in front of her. 
“YN’s always said I’m a girl Dad…whatever that means”. Harry revealed, looking between the screen in awe at how much their daughter had grown. 
Jessica smiled down at YN. “She’s growing beautifully in there…she’s weighing about two pounds always so whatever you’re doing Mama, keep doing it.”. 
YN and Harry walked out of the clinic with bright smiles, new photos of their little girl, along with a few extra gifts from the two women, a teddy that played their daughters heartbeat and a free appointment for another scan. 
“The best Valentine’s Day yet…don���t you think”. YN spoke as they spoke drove home. 
“And next year will be even better!”. Harry looked down at YN’s bump. 
ynstyles
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liked by annetwist, lottietomlinson, and 2,675,986 others
ynstyles Happy Valentine’s Day to my Husband and Baby Daddy❤️ View all 12,877 comments
harrystyles Happy Valentine’s Day Mrs Styles! X ⌞harryfan4 HARRY!! ⌞ 1dfan6 MRS STYLES!! 🥹🥹🥹 ⌞ harryfan9 hi Harry!!!
niallhoran Aww my three favourite Styles’😂See you soon xx ⌞ ynstyles Baby Styles is excited for her Uncle Niall’s tour 🫶🏼
gemmastyles Too cute 🥹
annetwist Love you three very much 🤍🤍🤍
lottietomlinson Look beautiful sis😘 ⌞ ynstyles It runs in the genes babes ❤️
louist91 Watch your hands Harold!!😂 ⌞ynstyles A bit late for that Lou, not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m already pregnant xx ⌞harryfan3 these two never fail to make me laugh😂😂😂 ⌞louisfan7 the best siblings❤️
louteasdale How are you married? I swear we were just on tour😉
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nalyra-dreaming · 3 months
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The "surprise" Louis and Armand wanted to give Daniel really bugs me. Louis seems exited, telling to get "dinner preparations", which sounds strange to me. What would be the need telling Rashid to prepare dinner if Rashid's already accustomed doing it? What if it's preparations of something new?
Louis wants vampires to born out of love, and he to me, seemed enjoying Daniel making his little questions (like one would chuckle when a kid's trying to impress you), until well, everything happened.
And Armand's look, it was... different, idk how to explain it. The "I hope you'll be joining us" look and the one he gives Daniel after Louis storms out of the room (Which seemed a "why did you do this") were something.
So what if the surprise was Daniel being turned by Louis for Armand?
We know that Rolin said the reason of redoing the interview was mentioned for one character in 2x05 and for the other in 2x06. The first character (of 2x05) we know that was Louis, but the second... What if it's Armand's reason instead of Daniel's, like I saw in other's comments?
It would benefit Armand if Louis was the one turning Daniel, since he could still protect his vow not to turn someone.
But since Daniel prevented this with helping Louis restoring his memories, he had to turn him himself, to not lose him again
I actually think this is exactly it!!
Louis was supposed to turn Daniel for Armand. But he got too pissed (rightfully so^^).
And so Armand had to do it himself.
We‘ll see how that “spite“ comment fits but however they‘ll do it there is a LOT more to that scene.
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verimuru · 6 months
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Red on Maroon A 16-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand and journalist Daniel Molloy visiting the Mark Rothko retrospective in 2024 Paris. Content mentions & warnings: The comic depicts Daniel’s internalized ableism. Rothko’s suicide is acknowledged but not discussed in detail. There’s angst, talk about kink and lots of fluff. Louis is mentioned as well as Daniel’s daughters. Marius is not named but is hinted at. The comic is set up in post-Dubai-interview time and based on my knowledge about s1 of AMC’s IWTV with sprinkles of book canon. Some notes about the comic below:
As with my last comic, I am not a native English speaker, so I hope you keep that in mind when reading <3 trying my best here meow meow
The Rothko retrospective can be visited until 2nd of April of 2024 in Louis Vuitton Foundation. I visited the place in January, so the comic’s surroundings are a mix of memories and some image searches, but in no way fully accurate. Since visiting Paris next week is probably not an option for most people, the foundation has a very cool free app, where you can listen to an audio guide about Rothko and paintings in the exhibition. I mostly used their app as a source for this comic, so in case you want to learn more, go here: https://www.fondationlouisvuitton.fr/en/events/mark-rothko
 I listened to a lot of Morton Feldman’s Rothko Chapel -album while making this. So put it in playing in the background if you’re into that sort of thing. Link to the playlist on youtube
Since I am Finnish and I found out that one of LVF’s first exhibition had some Finnish painter’s work, ofc I had to include them… Page 14 has Schjerfbeck’s “Dancing Shoes”  and Gallen-Kallela’s “Kullervo Cursing”.
Ok finally some headcanon stuff: in my head, while writing this comic, I imagined Daniel having accepted the dark gift from Armand, but both of them wanting him to live as a human as long as possible to enjoy the benefits of a… mortal body. :’D Since, you know, vampirism is forever anyway, so why not enjoy the variety of bodily fluids, body heat, aches and weirdness of aging? While having a chronic illness is shitty, his life is not, and while his disability marginalizes him, there’s a perspective there, a person living and enjoying things, allowed to take space and feel his thoughts develop from these changes (that also affect over 6 million people around the world with Parkinson’s).
After finishing the comic I am not so sure if Daniel is going to be turned into a vampire after all. So your guesses are as good as mine, would love to hear your suggestions, hehe!
I wish we knew more about Daniel’s daughters! I just came up with something here because I wanted to draw them and wanted to see their dynamics as a family.
I have now read the Devil’s Minion part from Queen of the Damned as a separate short story and appreciate the TV show’s changes to Daniel even more. I can’t wait for S2…..
My sincerest thanks to @anaid-queen for being a test audience, my informant and such a cheerleader the past week <3<3<3
Hope you enjoy xoxo
SORRY I POSTED THE WRONG IMAGE FILES FIRST WAHHH I had to repost ;_;
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freak-accident419 · 6 months
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You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’
Derek Danforth x GN!Reader
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Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic
(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)
-
Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.
You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.
You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.
You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.
And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.
“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.
“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.
“Right,” he nods.
“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.
“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.
You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”
“Hey, fuck you.”
“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.
Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”
Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.
You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”
“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”
You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”
“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.
His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.
“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”
“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.
“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”
He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.
The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.
“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”
You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”
“Uhh, how do you mean?”
“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”
“Right,” he says.
You were bored.
So fucking bored.
You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.
You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.
“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”
He raises an eyebrow in interest.
***
You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.
You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.
This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.
To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.
“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”
Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.
“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.
“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.
“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”
“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.
“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.
And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.
“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”
Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”
You nod simply.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.
“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.
“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”
“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.
He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.
“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.
You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.
You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.
“Want me to jerk you off?”
Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.
“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.
“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.
You two grimaced at the scent.
“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.
“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.
“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.
He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.
You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.
“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.
“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.
“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”
“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”
“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.
You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.
***
You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.
“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.
“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”
“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”
“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.
You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”
He met you with silence.
You nearly whisper, “Was it?”
The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”
“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”
“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.
“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”
“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”
“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.
You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”
His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”
“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”
“Yeah, well, you look like—”
This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.
Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.
“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.
He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”
You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”
“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.
“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”
He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”
The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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You looked over to your left.
Nothing.
You looked over to your right.
Nothing.
You then looked forward facing, shrugging your shoulders as you then proceeded to wrestle your partner, Leon’s, beige jacket. He had discarded it in favour of that ridiculously tight fitting shirt that hugged him in all the right places; Showing off how all those rigorous training regimens had their benefits.
…Not that you’d admit to doing such a thing as shamelessly starting at your partner.
Luis, however, begged to differ.
His scent was the first to invade your senses whilst his lingering warmth embedded within the slightly fleeced insides followed suit. Encasing you in an almost protective embrace; Something that would have anyone smiling goofily as they bury their faces into the material.
You were no such lovesick fool.
Your were quick to shove your hands into the pockets, only to pull them back out with fistfuls off…
‘Eggs?’ You said to yourself as you stared at the ratio of white eggs, to brown eggs, to eggs with bits of feathers and dirt still stuck to the shells that laid within your hands. You seriously had to have a word with your partner about his…habits. But after setting the eggs aside somewhere, you dived back into his pockets for anything else, only to find yourself managing in fishing out an folded photograph.
Curious, you unfolded it, to then see yourself staring back at you, eyes closed and mouth opened in a laugh, forever immortalised within a quick snap of a camera lenses. When this was taken you didn’t know, but all of a sudden Louis’s constant commentary on yours and Leon’s partnership being somewhat more then just that was now starting to seem plausible.
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allwaswell16 · 14 days
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A fic rec of canon One Direction fics that take place post-hiatus as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!
- Louis/Harry -
🧡  Given a Chance by Fabby / @fabby1d
(E, 173k, small town) Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.
🧡 The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint
(E, 163k, fake relationship) Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together.
🧡 You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by auburnstargazer / @harryrainbows
(E, 95k, fake relationship) Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.
🧡 Stranger Than Larry Fiction by @larrysmomfics
(M, 90k, friends to lovers) A canon-divergent AU where Louis and Harry read Larry Stylinson fanfiction.
🧡 10 Years Later by Harriet1dfan
(E, 79k, friends to lovers) In the 10 years since One Directions' shock split in February 2015, Louis has been living a quiet life in Doncaster, trying to forget he was ever 1/5 of the world's biggest boyband. Until of course there is a televised reunion and tour.
🧡 Need So Much of You by @lululawrence
(NR, 46k, fwb) the would-have-been canon compliant, fake relationship, friends with benefits, friends to lovers fic where Louis wonders if this thing going on with Harry is going to break him or change everything for the better.
🧡  Roses & Violets by sincewewereeighteen
(M, 43k, Dunkirk set) Louis would’ve known beforehand that Harry was hurting and wouldn’t have let it get to this point in the first place. But then again, a little over a year ago Harry hadn’t broken up with him, so, there’s that.
🧡 What If I’m Someone You Won’t Talk About...? by Ioudloudlove
(E, 40k, exes) The one where Harry and Louis come face to face with each other after a painful break up six years earlier. They relive their memories in the build up to seeing each other and come to conclusions about the way things ended. 
🧡 Late Late by @taggiecb
(M, 29k, friends to lovers) 5 Years after Louis becomes a father, and the band takes a permanent hiatus, Louis Tomlinson finds himself hosting his first episode of The Late Late Show.
🧡 Baby, You Were the Love of My Life by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation
(NR, 24k, exes) He asks Liam if he can use his country house and set up a studio in his front room, and Liam agrees. Little does Harry know that Liam has an unplanned guest staying in that house - someone who saved him and ruined him in equal measure.
🧡 Tuca Tuca (ILikeYouILikeYouILikeYou) by @persephoneflouwers
(E, 4k, established relationship) The San Francisco getaway AU, where Harry is needy and Louis has a flight to LA in a few hours.
🧡 seven hours behind by @justanothershadeofblue
(E, 4k, established relationship) Louis's got a post-show buzz to work off, and a lover across the ocean who's just waking up for the day.
🧡  Finally Their Time by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic
(NR, 4k, Met Gala) Harry and Louis attend the Met Gala together, and suddenly the whole world knows
🧡 Second Time's A Charm by The_Dizzy_Pixie
(M, 4k, injury) The one where Harry finds out Louis broke his arm. For the second time in one year.
🧡 Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 4k, phone sex) the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice
🧡 Let Me Take Care Of You by @tommokat
(M, 2k, hurt/comfort) Louis' in Poland with a fractured elbow and Harry's in California, but all he wants is to take care of him.
🧡 a mega fish butty by trackfive
(G, 1k, established relationship) louis is notoriously bad in the kitchen, but he figured a fish finger sandwich wouldn't be all too hard. what he didn't account for was the disruptive, half-naked cameraman who refused to help him slice a tomato.
🧡 Wading in Your Warmth by @insightfulinsomniac
(E, 1k, established relationship) The boys, in love and basking in the LA sun, share a private moment in the pool. aka a fic based on Louis’ recent Instagram story.
- Rare Pairs -
🧡 Kissing in the Rain by Writcraft / @writsgrimmyblog
(E, 93k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) It starts at a party with shitty cocktails, a DJ that's definitely not as good as Nick and some 'that only happens in the movies' kissing in the rain.
🧡 Live a Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire / @laynefaire
(E, 57k, Zayn/Liam) After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.
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frigidwife · 26 days
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did i misread the arun/maitre stuff or was that whole thing designed for armand's gratification, not louis'? the "armand was a sex slave ofc he's good in bed" take is crass imo, but also misses the point? louis is the one bartering w desire now for his own (& claudia's) survival. he's the one adopting a fake persona & going through the motions to appease a partner who threatens him. if the sex is mid it's not bc armand lacks "technical skill" or w/e it's bc he doesn't care abt louis' pleasure, agency, or even his waning interest so long as he toes the line. & yes 2 things can be true, sexual chemistry can co-exist w abuse/coercion. but if l0umand's sex was fire the show didn't convey that? in the closest we get to a sex scene (ep6) louis was grimly disengaged & armand was midway through scripting his lynching. i doubt the writers did this by accident?
yeah exactly exactly …people literally do seem to think it was by accident😭 the takes when episode six aired that were like “you guys just aren’t ready to see gay men who are switches in a bdsm relationship” Like woah this isn’t found fucking footage This is a constructed narrative with deliberate framing 😭😭😭 and they reallyyyy wanted that narrative to be l/a romance and it’s simply not . WHICH is why the service-oriented “””””””wife guy””””” fan characterization of armand pisses me off so much like neither armand’s control nor his “submission” are for louis’s benefit and it’s a huge and obvious lie he tells (for the control; i don’t even think Armand pretends the roleplay is for louis’s benefit people just ran with that) that anything he does makes louis happy. Or honestly even the idea that he wants to make louis happy and just doesn’t know how lets armand off the hook . It’s killing me actually we’re literally given a scene w armand w big wet eyes saying it was love about the events leading to louis’s lynching, in the episode after we see him torture louis and then erase it from his memory. and now i have to see 9 million posts like It was love guys it was loveee armand just didn’t knowwwww any better bc he was born in a cardboard box and only knew cults 🥺 No it was strategic from the start his veneer of generosity is so fucking transparent !!
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parmahamlarrie · 2 months
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Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Exes to Lovers fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**
where we landed || @blueskiesrry || 70.4k Exes to Lovers, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Hometowns, Teacher Louis, Kidfic, Cancer, Past Mpreg
I was yours (I wish you were mine) || @harruandlou || 56.2k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Dyslexia, Librarian Harry, Rock Star Louis, Summer
Too Young To Know || @2tiedships2 || 35.4k   Omegaverse, Exes to Lovers, Lou has a boyfriend, Fluff and Angst
Bitter Ends Turn Sweet Series || @allwaswell16 || 34.3k Exes to Lovers, Kidfic, Famous/Non Famous, Chicago, Song Fic
Sometimes You Just Know || @2tiedships2 || 33.8k  Omegaverse, Soulmates, Exes to Lovers, Nesting
Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) || @greenblueish || 28k Hospital AU, Doctor Harry, Nurse Louis, Exes to Lovers
Heartbreak Anniversary || @brightgolden || 24.6k GBBO, Famous/Famous AU, Exes to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending
you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)
Thrill You Tonight || @stylesthebrave || 10.7k Vampire Louis, Exes to Lovers
It’s Been So Long || @littleroverlouis|| 10.6k Girl Direction, Exes to Lovers, Older Harry and Louis
We Saw Ed in Berlin, and I Watched It Begin Again || LilyBlue28 || 6k ** Canon, Euro 24, Exes to Lovers, Open Ending
Why WAS There a Street Sign on the Floor || @parmahamlarrie || 5.7k Exes to Lovers, Porn with Plot
Sweet Mondays || sweetkalachurchi || 3.5k ** Canon, Euro 24, Exes to Lovers, One Bed, Happy Ending
'Tis the Damn Season || @zanniscaramouche || 2.8k  Christmas, Angst, Exes with Benefits
now I’m one step closer || @harrystinyshorts || 2.6k Exes to Lovers, Chance Meeting, Butterflies
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