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looselucy · 5 years

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Refuge

October 6th The girls were round at mine, the three of us on a chair each, lounged around doing barely anything other than waiting for it to be time to go to the pub and meet the lads. I was attempting to read a book, but every few minutes one of them would start a conversation and I’d have to take a break, meaning I’d been stuck on the same page for almost 20 minutes. “How long has Harry been here?” Chloe asked.

“Um…” I racked my head, but didn’t get the chance to answer. “Going on two months.” Libby told her. “Okay, okay.” She nodded. “So… does anyone know his last name?” I placed the book down, looking off into the corner of the room for just a moment. “Holy shit. We don’t know his last name.” I gasped. “We’ve been spending this much time with him and none of us know his last name?” Libby sat upright. We’d been taking his classes every week for almost two months, we met up with him all the time, he’d truly become a part of the group and somehow none of us had even gotten to know his last name. It wasn’t a question that had cropped up. “Louis’ll know. Text Louis.” Chloe gestured towards me, sulking back down into her seat. “Yeah, yeah he’ll know.” I reached for my phone, doing as instructed. Once the text had been sent, I picked up my book once again and started the page from the top, only managing a few words before Chloe spoke up once more. I decided to place the book down for the last time, it clearly wasn’t going to happen. “Girls… I’d like to inform you that I have officially given up on the whole… shagging Harry thing.” “Why? You’ve been doing so well!” Libby sniggered, earning the middle finger from Chloe. She had continued flirting whenever she could without it being awkward or just plain weird, but no matter how gorgeous and obvious she was, Harry would politely ignore her advances. Every single time. I thought it might have been something to do with the fact that Harry was simply glad to be making friends. He’d spoken to me about how long it had been since he’d had that, how for years he’d had acquaintances but not necessarily anything more meaningful than that, and that seemed like a plausible explanation as to why he didn’t want to start anything up with her. He probably wanted to keep things simple and platonic. I didn’t want to tell Chloe that, because I felt as though he’d told me that in confidence. It wasn’t information I had the right to pass onto others. “I’ve tried, and I’ve failed.” She continued despondently. “My pride has taken a hit, but it really seems like he’s just not interested. So I’m giving up. Officially. We would have had beautiful babies, but that’s his loss.” “Well, you never know,” Libby exhaled. “Maybe someone else who’s insanely attractive and our age will move to Rosebury soon.” “We all know that’s not going to happen. He was a one off. This was my one chance. Urgh. Don’t give me false hope, woman, we know it’s not gunna happen.” “Sean’s back.” I shrugged. “Didn’t you two once-” “Yeah, but it wasn’t very good.” “Well, it rarely is the first time.” Libby expressed. “You’ve gotta like… get to know his body and stuff. Let him get to know yours. Plus, you were loads younger then. Shag him again. Do it right this time. It can’t have been that bad.” “He lasted thirty seconds and then asked me if I came.” “Oh.” “I said no, and he said, never mind. I don’t wanna try again, he was absolutely useless.” She huffed. “He might have gotten better.” I tried. “What with travelling and all that. He’s probably had sex on multiple continents now, he has to have improved. Plus, you don’t know, Harry might’ve been shit.” “Uh, have you seen him?” She snorted. “He’s good in bed, you can bloody tell. He has an energy about him, it’s just obvious. He’s a good fuck.” I couldn’t say I disagreed, though I wasn’t sure I’d given it any thought in the way that Chloe clearly had. There was something about him, in the way he moved, held himself, spoke; there were so many layers to him that boasted this brash allure, almost impossible to dismiss. With each class we’d taken, they’d gotten more and more intense, we were learning more, growing stronger as a team. I could feel a difference within myself, both physically and mentally, which was such an incredible sensation. Those classes had become one of the highlights of my week. But the way Harry was in those classes was inspiring. For an hour, every week, it was like he wasn’t our friend, like we didn’t know him outside of that room. He was just this man who could show us how to be strong, expand our own power, teach us how to embrace and love the inner strength we all possessed but hadn’t known how to harbour beforehand. He taught us when and how to use the beasts inside us, the ones he had awoken and fed and cared for. He was magnetic, magical. I could feel myself opening up and growing. I hadn’t expected that when we started those classes. In fact, I’d barely expected anything, but what I’d already gained from those classes went so much further than what was advertised. He nurtured the spirit of self-defence and self-care, and that was what made his sessions so wonderfully unique and insightful. And that was when Harry was at his most appealing. After giggling briefly, Libby turned her attention to me. “What about you?” “What about me?” “Have you seen Sam recently?” “No. Not since the football match the other week.” I heaved a thankful sigh. “He text me once, but I ignored him.” “What did he say?” “Some fake bullshit apology about that night. But I’m literally like… I’m beyond it. I don’t think I realised how much of a weight being with him was. The breakup and Harry’s classes… I dunno. I’m feeling so good at the minute.” “Good.” Libby smiled. “I’m glad. It’s long overdue.”

When the three of us walked into the pub that night, all the lads were already there and in fits of laughter, Harry clutching at his stomach, Louis wiping tears away, Lincoln actually on the floor, and Niall had his arms in the air, like he was waiting to continue his story. It was a Saturday night, and we’d decided to branch out from The Tin Mouse and finally introduce Harry to The Railway, the third and final pub Rosebury had to offer. It was a gorgeous little place, a remodelled train station that hadn’t been used since the Second World War, the platform now a smoking area with an abandoned set of tracks running across the back, barely visible through the shrubbery that had grown atop of it over the years. The only reason we weren’t there more often was the fact it was slightly pricier than The Tin Mouse was, but it worked well for a Saturday night treat. Chloe and Libby went over to the bar to get our drinks as I hesitantly approached the table, brows low, Niall being the only one to even notice me. Lincoln was literally crouched under the table, gripping at the legs, trying to breathe. “What is going on?” I questioned giddily. “These guys have never heard the story about the time I fell in the river.” “What? Are you serious?” I sat myself down beside Harry. I had been there that night, so I was already aware of the tale, but baffled they hadn’t heard it before. It was when we were younger, not too long after Niall had moved to Rosebury, on our way back from the pub he’d climbed up on the wall lining the bridge and started singing a rather beautiful rendition of Believe by Cher, only to tumble backwards and smack against the water with some force. I remember running to the wall, checking over the edge and screaming his name, panicking for a few moments before he emerged, soaking wet with his arms in the air, and he simply carried on singing like nothing had happened, blaring out the tune into the night, utterly unmindful. “You do a wonderful Cher voice.” I giggled. “I do, don’t I? I might bring it out tonight. Are we getting drunk?” “No.” I giggled. “There’s a fair in town tomorrow, so I’m opening up shop. I’m gunna make the most of it being busy. I’ll need a clear head.” We took each week as it came in terms of when I opened up the shop and when I didn’t. I usually liked to have Sundays and Mondays off so we got a bit of a break, but depending on what was happening, Sunday had the potential to be the busiest day. The following day would be one of those, where we could possibly earn a small fortune, so I’d promised myself I’d get a relatively early night. “Well, I’m getting drunk.” He shrugged, raising his glass to me and then downing the remainder of his pint. “Can we get drunk,” Harry sat forward, attempting to talk through his laughter. “And go to the bridge, and relive that story. Please?” “Harry, if you get me drunk enough, I’m pretty sure you could talk me into doing anything.” He wheezed. “Who the fuck are you kidding,” Chloe joined the conversation as she walked towards our table. “You wouldn’t need to be drunk.” “Fair point.” She passed me my drink and sat herself down, Libby soon joining her, Lincoln eventually crawling back up from underneath the table and giving us all a welcoming kiss on the cheek before sitting back down, their laughter finally dying, slowly but surely. Niall started telling the story once again so the girls could hear it, the boys leaning in for a second listen like they hadn’t just heard it moments ago. Harry leaned closer to me. “Y’alright?” “Yeah, I’m really good.” I turned to him, noting our proximity. “How’re you?” “M'good.” He nodded. “Tired.” “How come?” “I finished a lot of work on the house today, so I’m worn out.” “Hey, congrats!” I beamed. “Thanks.” He smiled, eyes heavy, voice dulcet. “I’m relieved.” “Relieved about what?” Lincoln joined the conversation. “Pretty much got my house finished.” “Sick! You happy with it?” “Uh… I think so. As happy as I can be.” “You should have us all over, I’d love to see it.” Harry tensed, his breath punching at the back of his throat to prove his lack of words, the sensation of unease practically radiating off him, units of his build knitting together and tightening his entire frame. Lincoln noticed, opening his mouth to try and disregard what he’d just said, but Harry managed to blurt out a few words. “Sorry… I dunno. I’m… I’m pretty private, I dunno.” “That’s alright! It’s your home, man.” Lincoln comforted. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t’ trying to force you to-” “No, I know. It’s just me. It’s a… personal thing.” “Totally get it. Don’t worry.” Lin had clearly hit some kind of nerve. Harry tried his best to unclench, to brush over the moment and reignite the charming man we’d gotten to know, but something had switched. I wondered why it was that he felt so private about his home. I wondered what had happened in his life that made him that way, maybe someone had broken his trust before, maybe after so many years of not being able to find honest connections with people, the thought of having real friends in his home was somewhat daunting for him. From what I’d learnt of him, he was using our village as a refuge, and I had to question if his house was just an extension of that, a remote haven that he wanted to be entirely his own. He'd moved around a lot, I knew that much, but I couldn’t help but speculate if he really wanted to settle in our village or if he’d just up and leave again in a few months or years, go onto the next place, meet new people, teach more women how to feel safe and strong. The more time we spent with him, the less I wanted that to happen. I wanted him to finally feel like he had a home, within that house and within the people he met. It was as though he had been falling for years, and I wanted Rosebury to be his landing ground, where his feet finally met the floor, steady, secure. I caught Lincoln’s eye, hating how he looked so regretful. It was obvious he’d meant no harm, but the two of them had been getting on so well and I knew he was worrying that he’d said something that could set them back. We’d seen that Harry could go rather quiet and despondent, retract from group like he had done during and after his second training session, so that was something we didn’t want to see again. “M'gunna get some air.” Harry finally choked, standing himself up and heading to the back door. My eyes went straight back to Lincoln, glad everyone else was too wrapped up in their conversations to take note of what had happened. At least it was simply trapped between the three of us. “Did I say the wrong thing?” Lin panicked. “I dunno.” I sulked, eyes on the door he’d just walked through. “You weren’t out of line, or anything. I guess it’s just… Well, like he said, a personal thing.” “I feel like a dickhead.” “Don’t. It’s not your fault.” He seemed unconvinced, also nervously watching the door, the two of us hoping that this would pass and Harry would walk back into the pub like nothing had happened, but after five minutes or so, he still hadn’t come back, and Lincoln was growing ever anxious. “I’m gunna nip out and see if he’s okay.” I exhaled, raising upwards and practically tiptoeing over the path he had taken. I didn’t want to intrude, and there was clearly a reason for him wanting to get away from the conversation in the first place and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I also didn’t want him to feel like we were just sitting indoors and ignoring him or theorizing his reaction to the topic. I didn’t want him feel any worse about it, I needed him to know there was nothing to worry about. I poked my head out of the door, seeing him leaning against the wall, eyes on his feet, his energy on the ground beside them. “Tell me to fuck off and I will.” I spoke, his neck snapping with speed so I’d be welcomed to his line of vision. “Nah, it’s okay.” A sigh accompanied his gentle smile. I waddled out to stand by his side, ignoring the cold and ignoring the atmosphere, trying my best to create a more pleasant one so we could move on from it all. He dropped his head again once I was at his side. “You alright?” I asked, leaning back against the wall beside him and looking out to the old tracks. “I’m fine, honestly.” He choked. “It’s just something I get… weird about.” “I get it. You don’t need to explain yourself.” “I kinda feel like I do, because I don’t want you guys thinking it’s anything to do with you, because it’s not!” He spoke austerely. “We don’t think that, I promise. Lin is just worried he’s upset you, that’s all.” I turned to see him. ”I’m not upset.” His brows dropped. “I guess... I need to get used to that. That’s what friends do, innit? Have people round at their house and stuff.” “Some.” I shrugged. “But you don’t have to do that.” He nodded mildly, hopefully listening to my words and realising we weren’t trying to force him to do anything or judging him for feeling so private about his own home, this space that he had bought and created and healed. It made total sense to me, that he’d want that to remain his own. It was clear to me that Harry was private, it wasn’t at all surprising to me that he’d want things to be that way. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all a bit private about some things.” I nudged him softly, before turning and looking at the door leading indoors. “Well… maybe that lot aren’t the best example of that.” “No,” He sniggered, finally looking up to me again. “They talk about anything and everything, don’t they?” “Yeah. The least subtle group of people you’ll ever meet.” I tittered. “But even so.” It was only then that his body seemed to release those tensions they’d been festering ever since Lincoln mentioned going around to his, breathing out and letting his limbs loosen once more, pushing away from the wall, ready to reassemble with the troops. Before we could walk back indoors, he came and stood right ahead of me, our bodies only inches apart so that he could trap me into place, leaving me flustered as I diffidently lifted my chin to look at him. “Thanks, Alf.” He murmured. “For what?” “Making me feel better. Calming me down.” “That’s okay.” I was nervous, emaciated by his confidence which had come back to bite me, the way his eyes searched me like he was looking for answers to questions he’d never asked. “I just wanted to say you have nothing to worry about. You’ve only gotta share with us what you’re comfortable to share.” Suddenly, I felt like I was in one of his classes, taking in his sober expression, the way he ran his tongue across the top row of his teeth; he was powerful again, and I was breathless. I could almost see those queries rushing through his mind, questioning what he wanted to share, what he didn’t, what he wanted to keep to himself and what glimpses of himself he wanted to reveal. The way he was so reserved must have been fine for him when he wasn’t really making friends, but the closer he got to us, it was like he was slowly realising that could involve opening himself up in ways he hadn’t done for years, or maybe ever. There was a battle ablaze in his mind, a war between his comfortable solitude and a possible life without loneliness. “Y-you wanna go inside?” I shivered. “Do you?” He simply said, eyes burying into mine. “Yeah!” I blurted, confused. “Yeah, sure.” He created a distance between us, still watching me as I sidestepped and escaped his aura, smiling at him then heading back to the door, shaking off the mood we’d made, eager to get back indoors and back to reality, where Harry was my friend rather than this being that I couldn’t comprehend. With my fingers around the handle, I stopped myself, turning to face him. “Wait, before we go in,” I squinted. “What’s your last name?” “What?” He chuckled. “We realised today we don’t know your last name. I’m intrigued. Oh! Unless that’s something you don’t wanna-” “It’s Styles.” “Styles?” “Yeah.” He grinned. “That’s a sick name.” “Thanks.” He sniggered. “Mine’s-” “I know yours.” He stopped me. “You’re on the list for my class, Alfie Hunter. I know your name.” “Oh yeah.” “Yours is sick too.” “You’re only saying that because I said yours is.” I glowered. I opened the door for him, the two of us smiling together and stepping inside for just a second before we’d heard Niall’s boisterous voice. “He had the biggest dick I’ve ever seen, I’m telling ya!” Harry laughed instantly, bouncing back over to the table to catch up on Niall’s latest story, ready to hear some more blatant oversharing from the king of divulging too much information, forgetting his previous mood, returning to normal. I smiled, and approached the table.

A loud banging woke me from what had been a moderately heavy slumber, jolting upright in my bed and grasping at the sheets, woozy, disordered. I’d kept my promise, only having a few drinks, behaving myself so that working the next day wouldn’t involve a serious headache or run the risk of me throwing up on a customer. It wasn’t a rule most of the others had stuck to; Louis thankfully behaved himself, but the rest of them had not, meaning by the time we were all walking home, they were all singing Cher and tripping over their own feet. I had gone home and gone to bed, fallen into a beautiful sleep, until then, whatever hour it was. Another set of bangs, enough to make my body jolt, rubbing over my eyes, trying to find my bearings. They sounded again, this time relentless, someone pounding on the door leading directly into my flat over and over again. I felt sick. I thought I’d locked the bottom door, but my weary mind couldn’t add a memory to the theory. For a while I didn’t move, my whole body shaking, just listening and shuddering and breathing heavily, hoping it would just stop. I wanted whoever was there to leave, to just walk away and I could block it out and try to get back to sleep, but the longer I sat there and listened, I had to come to terms with the fact that they weren’t going anywhere. The noises were threatening, sinister, loud and unfriendly and enough to make tears swell in my eyes, trembling viciously as I lifted the sheets off my body and crept off my bed, the floorboards creaking below my feet as I wandered, so slowly I was barely moving, still just praying that it would stop before I reached the door and faced whoever was on the other side. They still hadn’t given up by the time the door was directly in front of me, their knocking so fierce the whole thing was vibrating violently in its frame. “Who’s there?” I yelled, but the sounds outshone my voice. I cursed to myself, one tear falling before I inhaled the feeling, knowing that I had to open the door, not just to see who the fuck it was but to stop that noise, cure the pounding in my head that it had forged. My stomach curdled as I marched towards the door, my steps quick as though rushing the actions would make it so I wouldn’t lose my nerve. I turned the locked, whipping the door open and just about seeing Sam’s face before he pushed inside, grabbed at my neck and forced his lips on mine. Within a second I’d pushed him away, watching him stumble back from me, unsteady on his feet, immediately proving that he was wasted. “What the fuck?” I spat. He ignored me, moving in once more to try and put his lips on mine, so forceful with his movements that I found my back against the wall beside my front door, just about pushing him away again, seeing his bloodshot eyes and his swollen lips. He was a wreck. “Sam, get the fuck away from me!” I seethed as I imposed distance. “I know you want this.” He took a step back to me. His mood was foul, rotting the air around him and forcing me to cower backwards, almost retching on the toxic aether he’d drunkenly dragged into my home. I thought I’d seen every colour of Sam, every layer he had, every crevice, but he’d never scared me before in the way he was doing then. He’d never made me feel so small. He had never made me feel like he was a person I had to fear. I thought once I’d answered the door that feeling of nausea would fade, but it had intensified. “I don’t!” I argued. “I told you, I’m done.” “YOU’RE A HEAD FUCK, ALFIE!” He screeched. “MAKE YOUR FUCKING MIND UP!” “I have!” I attempted to make my voice just as powerful as his, but failed. “Sam, I-” “You want me, I know you do.” He went for me again, trying to kiss me, ignoring what I’d said and ignoring my blatant distress. I raised my hands, pushing him away successfully one last time, but that made him snap. Before I could even comprehend what had happened, he had me pressed up against the wall, his forearm pushing tight against my chest to lock me in place, so hard I yelped. His free hand reached up so he could grip his fingers at my chin, lock my head into place so that my eyes couldn’t waver from his, pressing so hard it was as though he could leave bruises that showed the exact curves and markings of his fingerprints. He was gasping, and even if I tried, I knew I would have struggled to escape his snare, but I couldn’t try. I was frozen, terror trancing through my entire body, eyes staying on his face, unable to think or feel anything other than the blind fear I was experiencing, seeing a boy I had once loved and trusted with every fibre of my being become lost within this demon. His eyes were empty, hatred and desire being the only two things he could feel, the combination deadly. “You don’t get to do this to me.” He seethed through his teeth, his grip intensifying. “You are the love of my fucking life, you can’t turn your back on that. I won’t fucking let you.” “Please-” I let out an exasperated sob briefly before he allowed a momentary flash of release, loosening his push against my chest for just a second, but only so he could push back harder, slamming me back against the wall. I released an aching yelp to accompany the pain he’d caused. “ADMIT IT, ALFIE!” “Sam,” I blubbered, closing my eyes and trying to mentally remove myself from the scenario. “Please, you’re scaring me. Please stop. Please.” I was weeping, not just because of the situation, but who we’d become. Who he was in that moment was like he was a damn stranger and it knocked me sick. I’d spent a huge proportion of my life with him. I had spent countless evenings with him, I had shared my life with him, given him my heart completely. This was a boy who had gained and earnt my trust over years, and within seconds it had shattered and disappeared and amounted to nothing. I couldn’t look back on our relationship after that with anything but fear and regret. I knew that, even then, even when I was still in the moment. Years of love had been shattered by mere moments of madness, and that hurt more than his arm against my chest did, more than his grip on my jaw. “Please.” I wallowed once again, my entire body aching. I opened my eyes, watching his face change, his muscles relaxing as he slowly came to terms with what he was doing, the position he had me in. He snapped back to himself, his eyes wide as he took a step away from me, clearly in a state of shock over what he’d just done. Even though he’d moved, released me, I stayed in the exact same position, back against the wall, chin raised upwards, quivering, watching it all dawn on him. “Holy shit.” He whispered, looking down to his hands before looking back at me. “I’m sorry.” “Please leave.” I snivelled. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t… I don’t know-” “Just go.” “Alfie, I’m sorry.” He started crying too, taking one step closer to me before he realised he shouldn’t, backing away again. “I don’t… I… I just…” “I need you to leave, please!” I hated how weak I sounded, begging him to walk away, shattered and seared. “I’m sorry, Baby. Please believe me. I’m just… this has fucked me up, I can’t… Holy fuck. M’just like my dad, aren’t I? Holy fuck, please, Alfie, listen to me-” “I don’t want to, I want you to go. You’re scaring me.” “Alf, it’s me!” He keened. “You don’t need to be scared of me!” “I don’t know who the fuck you are.” “Let me make this right.” He ran his hands through his hair before gripping at the roots, clearly in agony over his actions. “I can’t be like him, let me make this right!” I still couldn’t move, I could only watch him, see the sickness of his state finally being something he could feel rather than something he was simply injecting into me. I didn’t speak, but I kept my eyes on him, scared he was going to approach me again but he didn’t have the guts. He knew he’d fucked up. “It… I’m so sorry, it’s just because I love you so much. I…” “You have no idea how to love someone.” I scowled. “Please leave, I’m begging you.” He took a few more moments, fighting his need to stay and attempt to right his wrongs, explain himself, not only to me but to himself. It was rather obvious that it wasn’t making sense to him, like he couldn’t fathom what he’d done, like his memories of it were already scattered and hazy. I wished mine could be the same. “I’m sorry,” He said again, finally edging towards the door. “I’m so sorry. I’m going… Please… Please remember I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just… I’m sorry.” He closed the door behind himself, weeping so ferociously I could hear him until he was out of the building completely. I still hadn’t moved. I wanted to stomach what had happened, to come to terms with it before I reached a stage of denial, fear, complete unacceptance. It was harder that way, but I knew I had to, I’d learnt I had to. I had to take something from Harry’s classes and put it into practice that night, because I had just been attacked in my own home by someone I trusted and I had done nothing other that seize up, despite everything he had taught me over the last few weeks. Harry had talked us through attacks, done an amazing job of walking through techniques we could use, but I’d done nothing. I’d frozen and weakened and it hurt. I had to take something away from those lessons, but it clearly wasn’t the physical side of things so it had to be the mental. I needed to find my own way of accepting it, learning. But before I could do any of that, I had to wallow in it, sliding down to the ground so my knees were tucked against my chest, cradling my legs, breaking completely.

#I am soooooooooo eager to hear your thoughts on this one #HBS8 #eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep #1dff #Harry Styles fan fiction #AAARRRGGGHHH

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maggieisalarrie · 6 years

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18 by aclosetlarryshipper

Harry hates Golden Boy Louis and he's pretty sure the feeling's mutual. It's too bad they're forced into parenthood together during the home ec baby project.

Featuring accidental fathers, an improv performance gone wrong, and an altruistic game of spin the bottle.

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“Well.” Niall unlocks his phone. “It wasn’t getting the traction I wanted on Snapchat. So…I tweeted it.”

What.

“You tweeted it,” Harry states, nearing a state of brain dead. “To your ten thousand followers.”

Niall nods, handing Harry the phone. “You’re a meme, Harry.”

“I’m a what?”

“A meme. It’s like an internet—”

“I know what a fucking meme is, Niall! Why did you make me into one?”

Niall has the fucking balls to cackle at that while Harry looks at the mess his former friend created. Videos of him screaming at Tomlinson about Tide Pods and his ass are being quoted and combined with memes to a create a level of memeception Harry has never seen before. That isn’t even including the thousands of tweets of him falling up the stairs remixed with random Top 40 songs.

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Reason #27 - Your one chance with a celebrity.

When he managed to stop ogling Harry's body and look up, the first thing Louis noticed was that Harry’s face was probably the most perfect face he’d ever seen. He’d seen him in that film, but he was even better in person. Maybe it was the smile.

The second thing he noticed was that that smile was directed at him. He’d been caught staring. Harry’s smile only widened when Louis locked horrified eyes with him. He tilted his head curiously, and his eyes flicked down Louis’ body. “Who’s this?”

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Inspired by & Based on Neon--Diamonds' Fanart “You’ve been taking my shoes?” Louis asked, scoffing. “I paid a lot for them!”

“How unfortunate for you.” Harry smiled bitterly. He peeked over Louis, eyeing the hook that still had the worm.

The red box was open right next to him. Harry saw that inside, it had a couple of transparent containers that were filled with worms, too. He eyed Louis skeptically before nodding. “Right. I’ll give you your, er…. little boats back if you let me have the tub of worms.”

A groan crawled out from Louis, his head falling back and his eyes landing up at the clear sky. “I need those.”

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(29k)

Enjoy The Ride by 2tiedships2

“Stop sulking and get up. I have a proposition to make.”

“Niall?” Louis questioned. “Do you think I should put glow in the dark stars on my ceiling?”

He looked over and found Niall giving him an unimpressed look.

“So, no?” Louis asked. “No stars?”

“We’re going on a road trip,” Niall stated.

Louis looked back at his starless ceiling and waved farewell to Niall. “Cool. Have fun!”

“No, you idiot.” Niall let out a frustrated sigh. “You, me, Liam, and Harry.”

Louis glanced over to Niall and back to the ceiling. “Who’s Harry?”

Or the one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

(11k)

Every Piece of You (It Just Fits Perfectly) by allwaswell16

Louis has settled into his job as the reigning monarch’s charity representative as well as his life as a reluctant member of the royal family, but what he wants most is for his relationship with Harry to become something more.

Harry finds himself as consumed as ever by his career as a high fashion stylist, but he vows to make more room in his life for Louis. He’s decided he’s going to start the New Year off with a ring.

A remix of ‘Why Can’t It Be Like That’ by taggiecb that takes place one year later.

(8k)

I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) by allwaswell16

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

(15k)

In All Its Imperfections by BriaMaria

From: Louis Tomlinson To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

"What happened, mate?" Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

(15k)

Inconceivable by alivingfire

Sometimes, Harry thinks, there's something there. The spark in his belly isn't just happening to him, surely. Surely Louis feels that rush too, that blossoming heat in his blood when their fingers brush.

But no. No, Louis treats Harry like a best friend—and it's an amazing thing, so wonderful, Harry wouldn't trade his friendship with Louis for anything—and there's no room for anything else. Not between them.

But Louis adores Niall. It’s clear, obvious in their comfort together. Harry and Louis still have something that keeps them from that, something making things more loaded with possibility, more intense. Like magnets with the same pole, an invisible force pushing them back—maybe that’s Harry’s crush, a barrier keeping them apart. Louis and Niall’s friendship is easy, whatever is between Louis and Harry is something else. Weighted.

Which is fine. It's good. Niall clearly loves Louis back, so it's great.

And Harry can just keep lying to himself for the rest of eternity.

Louis and Barbara Tomlinson are twin brother and sister. Harry's in love with Louis, Niall's in love with Barbara, and they both go by Tommo. It gets a little confusing.

(23k)

Just To See That Smile by homosociallyyours

It's Coming Out Week at university, and Harry's taken on a lot of responsibilities to make everything run smoothly. Finding his roommate's boyfriend attractive is making that a bit difficult, unfortunately. It might help if he realized that said boyfriend (Louis) is really just there to help said roommate (Liam) figure out if Liam's crush (Zayn) likes him back.

But that would make things too easy.

A fic where a hastily faked relationship and a lot of miscommunication almost ruins a perfectly good dance.

(7k)

Love's On The Line, Is That Your Final Answer? by PearlyDewdrops

Harry can’t believe it when Louis, the boy he’s always had a tempestuous rivalry with, asks him to be his boyfriend. Well, pose as his boyfriend, that is—for a new television game show in which young couples are quizzed on how well they know each other for a jackpot of thirty grand.

Reluctantly, Harry agrees—because he's got student loans to pay off, hasn't he? What's the harm? And he can totally deal with keeping his secret thing for Louis under wraps too. This is all just to win some money. It's fine. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, everything. Obviously.

(53k)

Maybe, Baby by thoughtsickles

It all feels too easy, too good to be true. It all feels like a scene from Louis' daydreams, the kind of life he'd always imagined he'd have when he was younger and bored at his momma's work, sneaking around the hallways of the maternity ward until the nurses let him in to hold the babies. He'd felt so important being allowed to touch them. He'd told them stories of the lives they were going to have, houses with nice wallpaper that wasn't peeling, yards filled with sunshine and flowers and grass that never went yellow. A hammock to nap in, cuddled up with his husband.

You can't stay here, he tells himself, but Baby doesn't want to listen.

****

Louis runs away. Harry finds him.

(16k)

Once Upon a Dream by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

(27k)

Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks)

“But I don’t belong here,” Louis insists. “Why do you say that?” James asks. “These people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” Louis shrugs. Something sparks in James’ eyes. “And you’re not?”

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

(145k)

signs and wonders by scrunchyharry

On the surface, it looks like Louis Tomlinson has the perfect life; after all, he has the whole package: a white picket fence house (well, his doesn’t technically have a white picket fence, but work with him), a wife, a daughter and a dog. He has it all and he’s not even 30, yet.

On the surface, he could be the happiest man in the world.

The thing is, he never wanted this life. There was this boy, see, this Harry Styles, whose arrival made Louis question everything he thought he knew about himself. Before Louis could pursue it, though, before he could be brave and ask the boy out, one moment of bad luck on prom night, one single lapse of judgment, shaped his life in a way he never would have chosen. Between doing the right thing or turning into his own absent father, he knew what he had to do, even if it meant burying his dreams under the weight of a premature adulthood.

That is, until he receives an invitation for his school’s ten year reunion and sees that Harry will attend.

Could it be his second chance at happiness? At what cost?

(29k)

Staring Across the Room by allwaswell16

Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

(27k)

Stars Will Align For Us by 2tiedships2

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

(16k)

The End Should Be A Good One by bananasandboots

It doesn't feel like falling in love, the way it had felt the first time around, easy, simple, almost like floating, wrapped up in a whirlwind of touches and kisses, late nights spent laughing breathlessly into each other's skin. This feels broken, complicated, like every move carries the weight of their past. Like the floorboards beneath them could collapse at any moment. This doesn't feel good.

Or, the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.

(43k)

through the jungle through the dark by YesIsAWorld

Louis and Harry were best friends, until they weren’t. Five years after they last spoke they’re forced to drive cross-country to visit an injured friend. If they can’t get over the past, it will be a very long week together.

(13k)

Wild Love by purpledaisy

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

(131k)

Worth a Thousand Words by TheIfInLife

“Look, I’m learning some new stuff!”

My name is Louis. My favorite color is green. I like movies. Do you know sign language?

Harry huffed grumpily. Why are you learning sign language?

“Because, I want to be able to talk to you.” Louis looked small, gripping tightly at the steering wheel.

Why?

You’re my friend. Louis signed shakily, having to try it a few times before getting it right. And well, Harry just snapped.

We’re not friends. I don’t know what makes you think that we’re okay but we’re not. You stopped being my friend once you found out that I went deaf. I don’t know if this is your way of ‘making up for it’ or if you think that hanging out with the deaf guy and learning a bit of sign language is your ‘kind deed’ to the world but I don’t want to be your charity case and I don’t want to be your friend. or Harry went deaf at 5 years old and Louis just wants the chance be heard.

(8k)

#recently read #maggieisalarrie #fic rec #28th appreciation

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