#niall horan arms of a stranger

[poseidonsarmoury]

When I was on my knees in the darkness

Yeah, you’d be there to break my fall

But now I’m lying here so helpless

But somehow I still want more

[lyrics-planet]

— Niall Horan, Arms of a Stranger

[blingblong55]

This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley

pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)

Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson

It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has. 

It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful. 

In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.

Would've...what a shit word that became in his life. 

In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.

Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass. 

It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good. 

"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?" 

"No, this is...me just wanting to talk." 

"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?

You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"

He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone. 

As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks. 

Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks. 

By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home. 

Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow. 

You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?

And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers. 

It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back. 

One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was. 

"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away. 

A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has. 

All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today. 

He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you? 

He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name. 

Why does he miss you so much today?

Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart. 

He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You. 

By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you. 

Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring. 

Oh...oh you fool, he thinks. 

His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks. 

It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?

It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town. 

In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town. 

He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you. 

In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real. 

What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body. 

It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place. 

A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

[goldenbuckyyy]

ARMS OF A STRANGER

Summary: You don’t believe you can ever go back to being “just friends” with Draco.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader (fwb!!), Slight Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.1kish

Warnings: Idiots in love, crying, arguments, yelling, let me know??

A/N: hi!!!! It’s finally done! Well, part 3!! I hope you guys enjoy it. I appreciate all the love I’ve gotten to the last 2 parts. I’m overjoyed, honestly. I’m so happy to see all of you loving this series as much as I love writing it. 🫶🏻 please read the first two parts before this one!! (linked below) Song inspiration for this one “Arms of a stranger” by Niall Horan!

Also hit 300 followers recently 🥺🫶🏻 thank you!!

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Series Masterlist

You look around Cedric’s room, your palms are sweating, and your heart feels as if it might burst in your chest. 

Cedric is going around the room, tidying up as he profusely apologizes for the mess, but honestly there is none. He goes to the corner of one side and starts playing a record on his record player. 

You try not to snicker when the soft, romantic music starts playing slowly. It’s a song you had never heard before, but it was nice. He was trying to be romantic. 

You start biting the skin around your nails in anticipation of what is going to happen. You walk around the room to try and calm your nerves. You let your hands wander on the different little items he has sprawled around. 

You take into account that the room has a lot of windows, white curtains covering the night sky, bright lights fill the space, and it makes you feel hot. 

But not in a good way. You feel almost uncomfortable. You feel like you don’t belong here. 

Almost. 

You start feeling itchy underneath your cardigan. The alcohol in your veins is keeping you warm, but making you feel incredibly hot underneath these lights.

You move to the one side of the room that does spark your interest. He has bookshelves that line the entire wall. Different titles, different genres, and still you can’t allow yourself to even pick one up. 

You hang your bag on the coat rack next to his Hufflepuff colored scarf and take off your cardigan as well. Your arms feel bare as you turn to look at Cedric. 

He’s already looking at you with a small smile on your face. He laughs in embarrassment as he tries to cover his face by looking down. 

You smile as you let out a shaky laugh as well. You stand next to Cedric’s bed, your fingertips touch the sheets slightly, and you feel Cedric move towards you. 

Your breathing starts to hitch as you feel his cold hands touch your bare arms. You shiver slightly and look up at him from underneath your eyelashes. 

He looks nervous. His hands move from your arms and slide down to hold your waist. 

“Is this okay?” He whispers as he tilts his head down towards you. 

Is it okay? You ask yourself. 

You find yourself nodding yes. 

“Merlin, I’m so nervous.” Cedric whispers as he starts leaning down, his forehead touches yours, and you lick your lips. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s you,” he admits.

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, you start to open your mouth to say something, but then you feel Cedric’s mouth on yours. 

He catches your lips in his in a hard and needy kiss. It catches you by surprise, but your eyes flutter shut and you start to reciprocate the kiss. 

You taste the alcohol on his tongue, his lips feel awkward on yours, you're not used to these lips, your mind feels cloudy, but you don’t pull away. 

Instead you wrap your arms around his neck, both his arms wrap around your waist which pull you as close to him as possible, and the kiss feels hungry now. 

“Holy shit,” he moans against your mouth when you grind your hips against his, already feeling the hard dent in his pants, and he grabs your waist tightly. 

You bit your bottom lip. Images of Draco fill your mind as you try to shove them away, you pull Cedric back into your space and back to your mouth. 

You tug at Cedric’s sweater, he gets what your insinuation, and tugs it off in one swift motion.

You shove him against the bed and you both tumble into it. He grips you to him, without breaking the kiss, you’re now on top of him, and his hands move underneath your shirt. 

His hands touch the bare skin underneath your shirt and you try to shut the screaming voice in your head saying “this isn’t right, this isn’t Draco!” 

You groan into his mouth because of the thoughts, but Cedric believes it’s a moan and he moans back into your mouth. He pulls away, open mouth, kisses your neck, sucks on it, and you tilt your head back. You look up at the roof of the room into the blinding lights. Your eyes feel dry and your body feels disconnected from your brain. 

Is this really happening? 

His lips feel weird on your body. 

You’re just not used to this, you tell yourself. 

You tell yourself you're overthinking it and that you want this. You really want this. 

You run your hands through Cedric’s hair and he tugs off your shirt revealing your chest, your panting as you look down at your bra covered breasts, and Cedric hums in content. He’s about to unhook your bra when you both jump at the sudden banging on his door. 

You gasp at the loud pounding, Cedric mutters a few curse words, and you almost pass out when you hear Draco’s voice yelling your name from outside the door. 

No fucking way. 

Cedric gives you a bewildered look as he rushes off the bed, you look around quickly for your shirt to cover yourself, you can’t see where Cedric threw it, and you rush underneath the silk yellow sheet. You tug the sheets over your almost naked body. 

Cedric pulls open the door and you see Draco’s eyes flying everywhere. His face falls and pales when he sees you.

His mouth parts open in shock, his eyes never leave yours, and you’re filled with rage. 

And curiosity. What is he doing here? 

“What the fuck, Malfoy?!” Cedric yells at him, he’s still panting as he fixes his hair, and waits for Draco’s response. 

You stare at Draco as you wait for him to say something. Draco’s eyes scan you and you can see him seething with rage. 

“She’s drunk. You’re taking advantage of her,” Draco spats at Cedric as he shoves him aside, Cedric’s body hits the door with a thump, and Draco is searching for something. 

“What are you doing?! He’s not taking advantage of me!” You yell at him, your voice slurring a bit, and you stumble to stand up. 

Draco in a haste slips on your shirt back onto you, tugging your cardigan on, and he already has your bag in his hand. 

You feel fuzzy with his fast movements as you stare at him, you let him move you around, and you wonder if you’re really this fucked up. 

Cedric stumbles towards you, his hand wraps around your wrist, and he looks at you with concern. “Are you leaving?”

“I-I..” you start to say as Draco pulls you underneath his arms. 

“Let go of her, Diggory. You can speak to her tomorrow when she’s sober and not under the influence.” 

Cedric unwraps his hand from your wrist and before you know it, you're out of his room and walking back to the Slytherin dungeons. Draco is walking quietly. His hand is wrapped around your wrist and it’s not rough. His fingers cover your wrist whole, they’re warm and soft against your skin. It doesn’t feel wrong. 

Everything feels right. You curse yourself silently because why does everything have to feel right with Draco? You wish it felt wrong. 

Draco says the password for the common room, he slips you both inside, and it’s eerily quiet inside.  Everyone must be asleep already. You don’t even know what time it is anymore. 

He slips down the stairs and he stops at the door of your room. 

He whispers your password to the painting he had bribed to protect your door and pulls you into it. He sets your bag down onto your dresser drawer and you look around your room. 

Everything is the same as you had left it, you hadn’t slept here in you don’t know how long, you hadn’t slept without Draco by your side in even longer. 

Your lip trembles as you realize what’s going on. 

What you’ve done. 

You feel dirty as you toss your cardigan to the floor. You’re about to peel off your shirt when Draco stops you. 

You can’t look up at him. 

You stay staring down when his smell fills your senses and you feel warmth spread through you. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

You fur your eyebrows together and look up at him. 

“Of course not! He- he didn’t take advantage of me, Draco. I wanted it to happen. I… I want to move on from you,” you let yourself say what you can’t say when you’re sober. 

Draco’s face falls and his eyes clenched shut. 

“You… you wanted to sleep with him?” Draco’s voice cracks with the question, his eyes staring at you now, and they show nothing but sadness. 

You nod as you pull away from him. “I… I think so.”  

Draco takes in a shaky breath. It feels as if the air in the room has thinned out. Draco feels as if he can’t breathe in suddenly. His chest hurts as he looks at you. 

“Okay,” Draco says as he steps back from you. His knuckles knock on the dresser, he’s nodding at himself as if he’s trying to convince himself of something, and he pops his lips in thought. His lips relax into a quiver that he stops quickly before you can take notice. Because you notice everything he does. 

But your mind is somewhere else tonight. 

With someone else. 

“Okay,” he says again. 

You stand there, watching him, your heart breaking once again, he takes one last look at you, his eyes taking in every inch of you. His eyes stop on yours once more before he turns on his heel and walks out of your room. 

You’re left in the emptiness of the four walls around you, the empty bed that you haven’t touched in months, and the beating of your racing heart is loud in your ears. Your face feels flushed and sweaty. 

Your mind is still fuzzy as you try to think back about the events that happened tonight. You sniff as you start to undress yourself while walking to your lavatory. Thankfully, you were blessed to have an empty room. Only because Draco pulled strings for you. Like he always did. 

You stumble on your feet as you throw your clothes around you, warm tears are slowly falling down your cheeks, and you suddenly feel a rush of disgust fill your bones. 

You stop in front of your mirror to take yourself in. Your hair is devilish, your skin is bruised in certain areas by foreign lips, and your chest is huffing up and down as you claw off your remaining clothes. 

You turn on the water of the shower to blazing hot. All you want is to wash Cedric’s touch off of you. 

The next few steps turn into a blur in your mind as you let the water burn you while you scrub your skin red hastily. You couldn’t stop crying because of what you did. The images of Cedric kissing you burned in your mind. 

The images of his fingers and mouth touching you kept replaying no matter what you did. 

You banged on the shower walls with a yell, gripping your wet locks, and tugging them. Begging your mind to stop these racing thoughts and images. You fall to the shower floor as you hug your knees to your chest. 

Your drunken state is long gone now and Draco is the only thing on your mind now. You begged your heart to not love him. You wanted to stop loving him right now. You needed to stop loving him. He didn’t love you. He has never loved you. You had no idea why he had stopped whatever was going to happen with Cedric. That was all a blur in your mind as well. 

A deep part of you was grateful he had stopped you. You knew you would have come to regret it in the morning. 

You knew you had given Cedric consent for what happened in that room and for what was going to happen. But you know that the only reason you were in that room in the first place was in spite of Draco. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you mumble to yourself as the water soon starts turning cold above you.

You shut off the water as you proceed to wrap your body in a towel. You dry your face, careful with your puffy eyes, and stand in front of your bed. 

You stare at it with a hollowness inside of you. You can’t remember the last time you slept here alone. You’ve napped her before between classes, sometimes, but you don’t think you’ve slept here at all this semester. 

You always slept in Draco’s room. Next to him. Every single night since the first day of term. 

You touch the cold sheets, which aren’t as soft or smooth as his sheets, but they’re going to have to make do. You pull on an oversized sweater and panties, not bothering to dry your hair, and you stuff yourself into the cold sheets of your empty bed. 

The emptiness around you is suffocating. You usually end your nights post-orgasm, your limbs feeling heavy, but your mind feeling light with a big smile on your face. You would cuddle into Draco’s warm skin and fall asleep as you both talked nonsense to each other. You swear you’d fall asleep with a laugh on your lips. 

Your lips quiver slightly as you feel yourself crumbling once again. You close your eyes shut, turning to your side, and you stare at the darkness around you. 

You wish you were in Draco’s bed right now. 

Not having sex. But just with him. 

You didn’t care about the sex. You cared about him. In the middle of everything going on, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that by Draco not loving you back… you wouldn’t just be losing your lover… you’d also be losing your very best friend. 

Your twin flame. Your soulmate. Your everything. 

You groan into the pillow as you beg your mind to shut off with these thoughts. You don’t think you can handle anymore of it. You curse yourself for falling asleep with the images of light grey eyes and a smile on pink tinted lips. 

You woke up the next morning with a killer headache, a dry mouth aching for a glass of ice cold water, and a sense of emptiness around you. 

You rubbed your eyes as your arm on instinct reached out to your side for Draco. You paused with a cold chill when you realized you were alone. You quickly sat up on your bed, pulling the sheet over your body, and looked around the room for him. 

Your breathing hitched when the memories of last night flooded your mind. 

You gasped loudly, covering your mouth with your hands, “No!” 

You close your eyes as you replay the events of yesterday and last night. 

“No… nononono,” you mumble to yourself as you jump out of bed to look into the lavatory to see if Draco was there. 

Empty. 

You slap yourself on the forehead, groaning, and cursing lowly. You couldn’t believe what had happened last night, but you felt so upset with yourself and with Draco. After that argument you had with him before the three broomsticks and what happened after. 

You didn’t want to see him. You felt hurt by him and his actions. But were you any different? By being upset at Draco and jumping into bed with Cedric? But Draco couldn’t reciprocate your feelings… 

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you ponder what you should do as you continue getting ready for breakfast. 

You pull your robes over your school uniform, wand stuffed into the holder you were wearing on your thigh, and you slowly braid your hair. You place a green butterfly clip to the back of it to keep it in place neatly. Your eyes are still puffy and you decide to apply a little bit of makeup to make yourself feel a little bit better. 

Once you feel more presentable, you stuff your books into one of your book bags and hook it over your shoulder. You take a glance around your room to make sure you’re not forgetting anything and start making your way to the Great Hall. 

You hold your bag tightly against your body, trying not to make eye contact with anybody, you feel afraid that someone might know the events of last night, but you know Draco wouldn’t say anything to anybody. Ever. 

Cedric… you weren’t too sure.

You pause outside the open double doors of the Great Hall, gulping down the dryness in your throat, and you glance in to see the hall is already filled. 

Draco is sitting at his usual spot, the seat next to him empty as always, your seat, and you hesitate even entering the hall anymore. 

Where were you supposed to sit now? 

 You tilt your chin up, let out a deep shaky breath, and make your way towards the Slytherin table. 

 Draco senses you and you can see his head snap towards you as you walk past him, avoiding his eyes, and make it down to the end of the table. You sit down at an empty seat. Alone. 

 You can hear the whispers begin around you. Everybody was whispering about why you were sitting by yourself and not next to Draco Malfoy. 

 You ignore the hushed whispers saying your name. You distract yourself by eating toast with strawberry jam, drinking a cup of iced cold water, and reading the next chapter for Charms class. 

You feel his presence next to you before you even see him. 

You don’t look at him. Instead you pour yourself a glass of pumpkin juice and start to sip on it. While you're pulling your hand back to your side, Draco slips his fingers around your wrist and gently pulls your hand towards him. 

You stiffen up. 

“Y/N,” he whispers softly. 

You bite the inside of your lip as you let your book close, you look down at your lap, and you slowly turn your body towards him. You keep your head down. Now you’re looking at his thighs which are covered in black slacks.

God, you love his thighs. 

His grip doesn’t falter on your wrist, but you don’t fight him on it. You’re basically limp next to him. 

“Please look at me.”

You raise your head slightly to look at him from underneath your eyelashes. His face is filled with worry. You quickly look back down, you try not not to get a good look at him. 

“Are you alright?” 

You pout at the question, lashes fluttering against your skin, you shake your head slightly, and pull your wrist away from him. You tuck your hands underneath your robes and turn your body away from him again. 

“You should leave,” you say. Your voice feels unknown to you. You sound cold and far away. You don’t sound like yourself. 

“Wh…What?” 

“I don’t want to see you,” you state as you shove your book back into your bag and start to stand up. Draco follows your every movement, his eyes are racing over your face to try and see if you’re joking, and he fishes for words. 

“Why did you stop me last night?” You ask, glancing at him quickly as he stands up to tower over you.

His mouth parts, eyebrows furring down. “I…”

“You what, Draco?” You whisper lowly at him, trying to avoid the ears of those lingering to hear. 

He licks his lips, looking away from you for a moment, and then back to meet your eyes. 

Once again, here you are pleading for him to say something. 

“I… I don’t know.”

“Wow,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him, shoving him with your shoulder, and proceeding to storm out of the Great Hall. 

You’re already almost to potions class when you get pulled out to the empty corridor. “What the-“ you begin to yell when you see who it is. 

“What do you want?” You ask frowning at him, finally taking a good look at him. 

Draco's expression is cheerless, the corners of his lips are turned down, his eyes are blank, and he looks like he didn’t get much sleep last night. Just like you. 

“Are we- Can we- I… I just…” Draco’s words fall away while you both continue to stare at each other. You look to your side and you feel your frown get deeper when you see the peach tree. Your heart tugs at the images that flood your mind, you look away from the tree and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I think… I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Draco’s jaw drops at your words, his face falls in anguish. 

“What are you saying?” He winces out, his hands slithering in between your crossed arms, his hands around your wrists, his thumbs automatically rubbing against your skin. “Please don’t do this,” he begs. 

“It’s what’s best for us right now. We-I.. I don’t think.. whatever this is between us… It’s not working anymore. You-We should stop.” 

“Is this because of Cedric?” 

It feels as if you’ve just been punching in the gut or as if your heart falls to the bottom of your feet. You can’t believe he just said that. You tug your hands out of his hold, once again, and look at him in anguish. “I can’t believe you just asked me that!” You shove his chest, “I can’t- Why would- What does Cedric even- I can’t fucking believe you, Draco! Are you bloody serious?!” 

Draco rubs his forehead roughly, groaning loudly, “I am sorry! Okay?! I am sorry! It’s just.. After what happened last night… I figured that maybe you would want to end this, whatever is going on between us.. for him.” 

You gape up at him, feeling a bit crazy, “You’re a bloody idiot. If you can’t realize what’s going on, I can’t help you. This isn’t because of bloody fucking Cedric Diggory. It’s not even about Heather Umbridge,” Draco winces at her name, “It’s about us! This went way too fucking far. I can’t- I can’t do this anymore. Please leave me alone.” 

“Can't we just go back to how things were?”

You clench your jaw, “And how were things?”

Draco sighs, rubs the back of his neck, “Us… being… friends. Best friends.”

“We've never been just friends, Draco. If you can't see that, I don't know what else to say.”

 That was the last thing you say to him before quickly turning on your heel and walking down to potions class. Class was about to begin in less than five minutes. Yours and Draco's seat was empty, the third desk in the front row, your eyes scan quickly to see which other seats are still empty, and you find one next to Harry Potter. 

Your heart is still racing as you speed walk to Harry’s desk and stop in front of him. His eyes are already on you, shocked that you’re standing in front of him, he straightens up, and fixes his glasses.

“Is this seat taken?” You ask with hopeful eyes, his blue eyes watching yours in shock, but he shakes his head no as he motions for you to sit. 

“Thanks, Harry.” You give him a small smile as you sit down and start fixing yourself. You feel different pairs of eyes on you, but you ignore them and tap your fingernails on the desk. 

Draco struts into the classroom, his eyes already scanning for you, he spots you next to Harry, and his expression turns into a scowl. 

You can see his cheeks redden in anger, his jaw clenching as he strolls to his seat without taking his eyes off you, and sits down. You lick your lips to try to avoid the lump in your throat and choose to ignore him. You sit up straight and wait for Professor Slughorn. 

It was the week before Thanksgiving break and you knew you just had to make it through the next three days. Then you knew Draco would be heading home and you’d be staying here since your parents were in the states this year for work. You hadn’t had a chance to tell Draco yet, but now you were secretly praying he wouldn’t find out through his mother because you needed to be alone. 

You needed to think about what was going to happen now. Was your friendship with Draco really over now?

You didn’t think you could ever be “just friends” with him again. You never truly were. 

You felt humiliated because of yesterday. You felt ashamed because of what you did. You felt stupid thinking Draco could ever love you back. 

 At the end of potions class before you could even look up, Draco had already stormed out of class. 

[mvltisstuff]

masterlist 🪷

feel free to leave requests for things like 911, marvel, stranger things, obx, the oc, harry styles/niall horan, sturniolo triplets (no smut or inappropriate stuff for them), tsitp, and i’ll probably write more in the future!

tiktok - mvltivspm (edits :))

nsfw = *

the oc.

• “quiet, baby” - r.a **

• labyrinth - r.a

marvel.

this is me trying - p.p

for whom the bell tolls - p.p

teenage fever - p.p

hollow prayers - p.p

stranger things.

RIP 2 my youth - lumax

911

how to save a life - e.b

you found me - e.b (can be seen as pt 2 to htsal)

cowboy like me - e.b

lost in the fire - e.b

boyfriends - e.b

sweet nothing - e.b

this town - e.b

how you get the girl - e.d

how to disappear - e.b

the feels - e.b

head over heels - e.b

cardigan - e.d

wasteland, baby! - e.b

here with me - e.b

put a little love on me - e.b

must be love - e.b

night changes - e.d

love. - e.d

slipping through my fingers - e.b

falling in reverse - e.d

la vie en rose - e.b

love grows (where my rosemary goes) - e.b

hold on to me - e.d

solitude - e.b

dreaming of you - e.b

arms of a stranger - e.b

chasing pavements - e.d

all too well - e.d

medicine - e.b

kids - b.n

mr. rager - e.d

mr rager cont. - e.b

fallen - e.b

are you with me - e.b

are you with me cont. - e.b

pity party - e.b **

lover - e.b

sos - e.d

waves - e.b

come back, be here - e.b

next step - e.b

skyfall - e.b

heart like yours - e.b

let the light in - e.d

genius (skyfall cont.) - e.b

lovin’ on you - e.b

boyfriend - e.b

this love - e.b

what was i made for - e.b

delicate - e.b

begin again - e.b

you belong with me - e.b

i can see you - e.b

dancing with our hands tied - e.b

happier - e.b

look after you - e.d

the last time - e.d

bad omens - e.b

clean - e.b

you get me so high - e.b

how to never stop being sad - e.b

no time to die - e.d

close to you - e.b

something in the orange - e.b

i wish you were sober - e.b

something pretty - e.b

santa baby - e.b

the summer i turned pretty.

meet me at our spot - c.f

mirrorball - c.f

champagne & sunshine - c.f **

matilda - c.f

don’t blame me - c.f

dress - c.f **

electric touch - c.f

false prophets - j.f

hc for cam cameron!!

hc for conrad fisher!!

you are in love - s.c

tv - c.c

midnight rain - s.c

home for the holidays - c.f

going, going, gone - c.f

going, going, gone pt. 2 - c.f

jonah hauer-king

i got you babe - j.h.k

meltdown - j.h.k

bring me to life - p.e

you’re losing me - j.h.k

[vettelsvee]

WELCOME TO MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT (NIALL HORAN'S VERSION)

a formula 1 short stories compilation about my favourite drivers based on each niall horan song

my tortured drivers department masterlist

IMPORTANT INFO YOU'D LIKE TO KNOW!

this compilation will include short stories about sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton, fernando alonso, oscar piastri, mick schumacher, lando norris, george russell, carlos sainz, max verstappen and charles leclerc.

these works will be driver x reader or driver x fem!oc, and will contain smau, first and third pov, smut and au, mostly. however, i'm open to any topic!

we will be doing an album every week or every two weeks. to choose each album, i'll post a first poll about a certain artist, and then i'll post another poll asking you exactly which album do you want me to post about. ¡! each poll will have de duration of 24 hours, which means we'll need two days to choose an album

i'll try to post as much as i can. however, i'm a uni student and my schedule can change a lot. for this reason, i apologize in advance. also, english is not my first language, so there can be mistakes (feel free to let me know about them!)

taglist is open for all of you who want to join me in my very own tortured drivers department! just let me know in the comments of this post or each artists post!

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

FLICKER

1. On the loose | Charles Leclerc 2. This town | Lewis Hamilton 3. Seeing blind | Max Verstappen 4. Slow hands | Fernando Alonso 5. Too much to ask | Mick Schumacher 6. Paper houses | George Russell 7. Since we’re alone | Lando Norris 8. Flicker | Sebastian Vettel 9. Fire Away | Mick Schumacher 10. You and me | Oscar Piastri 11. On my own | Carlos Sainz 12. Mirrors | Charles Leclerc 13. The tide | Lando Norris

HEARTBREAK WEATHER

1. Heartbreak weather | George Russell 2. Black and white | Sebastian Vettel 3. Dear patience | Max Verstappen 4. Bend the rules | Lando Norris 5. Small talk | Carlos Sainz 6. Nice to meet ya | Oscar Piastri 7. Put on a little love | Fernando Alonso 8. Arms of a stranger | George Russell 9. Everywhere | Lewis Hamilton 10. Cross your mind | Sebastian Vettel 11. New angel | Charles Leclerc 12. No judgement | Mick Schumacher 13. San Francisco | George Russell 14. Still | Oscar Piastri 15. Dress | Lewis Hamilton 16. Nothing | Sebastian Vettel

THE SHOW

1. Heaven | Mick Schumacher 2. If You Leave Me | Lewis Hamilton 3. Meltdown | Sebastian Vettel 4. Never Grow Up | Charles Leclerc 5. The Show | Lando Norris 6. You Could Start A Cult | Max Verstappen 7. Save My Life | George Russell 8. On A Night Like Tonight | Oscar Piastri 9. Science | Carlos Sainz 10. Must Be Love | Fernando Alonso

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 13

“I can’t breathe”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: I couldn’t pick just one gif for this chapter 🫠 sorry, not sorry. Also, I support Joel Millers rights, and his wrongs.

Summary: 20 years have passed since out-break day. Joel hasn’t heard from his younger brother Tommy in 3 weeks. He’s terrified of the thought of losing the last member of his family. You’re afraid that you’re losing him entirely.

~word count: 5.8k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, so much fucking angst I’m so sorry. Swearing, mean! joel, protective! joel, dark! joel, possessive, joel!, violent actions have violent consequences! joel, fluff (if you squint and use a damn magnifying glass) gaslighting, arguing, brief mentions of death, graphic violence with a knife, feelings, emotions, anger, rage, (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“i can’t breathe” by Bea Miller

“Poison & Wine” by The Civil Wars

“exile” by T-Swift & Bon Iver

“As It Was” by Hozier

“Rage” by Samantha Margret

“I’m a Mess” by Ed Sheeran

“Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala

“How to disappear” by Lana Del Ray

“Arms Of A Stranger” by Niall Horan

“Till Forever Falls Apart” by Ashe, FINNEAS

Year 2023. 20 years after out-break day : Boston QZ

Joel Miller always struggled dealing with loss of any kind. It started with losing Sarah. The grief, anger, anguish he felt in the last moments he had with her while she faded in his arms. He didn’t want to go on after that. What the fuck was the point when the world had fucking ripped his baby girl from his arms. He struggled with the possibility of losing you. Seeing you nearly bleed out on the kitchen table, his hands stained with your blood. It was too fucking much. If you would have died that night, surely he would meet his end shortly after. He knew the feeling all too well.

For the past two years, shit had been pretty sweet. Almost, too sweet. You refused to let yourself get caught up in the possibility of things going south with Joel. You wanted to live in every fucking moment you had with him. Carefree, happy, in love. You knew deep down that this wouldn’t last. You would have been naive if you believed nothing would ever come between you and Joel. The fucked up world you lived in, and the horrors that existed within, would always be there. Haunting you.

You trusted Joel with your life. He had given no reason for you to not put your full devotion into him. In more ways than one, you had saved each other. That trust mattered so fucking much to you. You were loyal to a fault. It was your fatal flaw.

Joel had been contacting his brother frequently. Tommy was the last of Joel’s blood and he would be damned if he would end up losing him too. Joel didn’t like when he felt like he had no control over a situation. It drove him up a fucking wall, devoured him skin and flesh till only his brittle bones were left. The fear of losing those he loved deeply, was constantly on his mind.

Joel had not heard from Tommy in three weeks. Three fucking weeks. He went and checked with the radio guy everyday. It was the same response of “we’re talking to the tower everyday. Nothing from Tommy.” This was not good enough for Joel. He needed to know that his younger brother was safe, that he was alive and well. Why the fuck wasn’t he responding? His mind instantly went to the worst possible outcome; Tommy being dead. It’s all he could think about.

Today with him he brought freshly rolled cigarettes, carefully tucked away in his coat pocket. He wanted answers, and he intended to get them, one way or another. He wasted no time to cut the line of other QZ residents waiting to send their message out. He didn’t care. He found himself with his elbow leaning over a rusted metal shelf. His patience was growing thin as he stood there, looming. He had a habit of playing with his fingers, picking at the dry skin around his cuticles, till they would crack and bleed. You had taken notice that he was doing this frequently now.

When it was finally his turn, he wasted no time to walk over. Plopping down into the chair with a thud as he reached into his jacket pocket and slid over the rolled cigarettes, his elbow resting along the worn wood.

“Nothin? Is there any chance it’s comin’in at night? You’re sleepin, you miss it?” Joel asked.

“When I’m sleeping, Gabriela listens, or my son.” The man spoke as he lit the cigarette, tossing the lighter to the side as he took a short inhale. The tip of the cigarette burning bright orange. “If Tommy responded, we’d know.”

Joel didn’t like the answers he was receiving. Not one fuckin bit. There had to be more information, there just had to be.

“And you’re talkin’ to the tower?”

“Every day, Joel.”

Bullshit is what he thought.

“They gave him your message, they haven’t seen or heard from him since, and that’s it.”

Lies.

“It’s been three fuckin weeks. It’s never taken Tommy more than a day to respond. Do you get that? Cause i’m startin’ to think that you ain’t seein’ the problem here.”

The man sighed, leaning forward as he held the cigarette off to the side, the smoke billowing upwards. “Joel, I'm sure Tommy is alright.”

“Show me where the tower is.”

“Joel, you can’t be serious. The tower is in Wyoming. You’re a capable guy, but there are worse things than infected out there.”

“You think I don’t fuckin realize that?” He scoffed. Crossing his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching tightly as he ground his teeth together.

“There are raiders, there’s slavers…” He trailed off.

“But you’re “sure” Tommy’s okay? Joel asked, his brow raised.

“It’s, uh, it’s the Cody tower…Q-bar 4, but I don’t know exactly–”

Joel was already up from his chair and leaving. He got the information he needed, now to devise a plan, leave the QZ, and find Tommy.

___________

Joel had no plan. No fuckin clue how he was going to get to Wyoming, but he would be damned if he didnt try. He was well aware that he wasn’t spending a lot of time with you these days. You both were working shit FEDRA jobs. Different hours, and by the time either of you would make it home, you both were too exhausted to speak.

You had known for the past few weeks that something was up with Joel. You didn’t want to pry, or make him feel like he had to tell you what was bothering him. You wanted him to come to you, tell you himself exactly what was going on. You couldn’t deny the fact that not knowing what was going on, was hurting you. It felt like he was purposely pushing you away. You didn't want to assume the worst of your lover, but it was hard not to when he was stumbling in hours past curfew, piss drunk. He would sleep with his back facing you. You wondered if this was exactly the way Tess had felt when she realized she was losing him.

You were barely sleeping most nights. Always waiting up for him, waiting for his return. You’d pretend to be asleep when the bed would dip down from his weight on it. You’d secretly pray that he’d wrap you up in his warm, strong arms finally. The moment never came and you felt so cold, so empty. You bottled it up, allowing it to devour you from the inside out.

One particular night, Joel had come stumbling in, a bottle of half drank whiskey in his grasp. He was high off something. Whatever pills he could get on. Pills that he had smuggled in for ration cards. He didn’t give a damn about his next meal. He just wanted to numb his feelings. Bury them so fuckin deep, that you, his sunlight, would never be able to reach them.

You could hear the sound of his keys clanking on the kitchen table. The front door locking shut. Then, his footsteps. His boots were heavy on the creaky floorboards. You heard his approach just outside the bedroom door, could hear his mumbling as he pushed it open, revealing your curled up form under the covers. The moonlight from the window casting a soft glow against your face. You looked beautiful, you always did.

You could hear his staggered, heavy steps. The bed dipped down beside you as he slowly sank down, the bottle of whiskey held between his knees as he leaned over and whispered, “you awake?”

You let out a sigh as you rolled over so you were facing him. Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you watched him bring the rim of the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig. “Am now.”

He was reaching for you immediately, tugging the covers that enclosed you from him.

“I need you baby, my sweet girl. Please, please, please.”

“Need to feel you.”

“Need to feel your skin on mine.”

“Please.”

“Please, baby. I’ll make you feel so fuckin good. I got you, you got me, Remember?”

He sounded half broken, teetering on the edge from the whiskey on his tongue, and the impending thoughts of losing the only person left in his blood family.

You sat up, grasping the covers between your fingers as he tried to tug them from your grasp.

“Joel, what’s wrong? What happened?” You spoke on the edge of caution given his intoxicated state.

“No. don’t wanna talk. Don’t wanna feel anythin ‘cept you.”

“Joel, you’re drunk and clearly upset over something–”

He cut you off. “M’sober enough to know that the only thing I want right now, is you. You gonna deny me that, sweet girl?” He slurred.

You found yourself at a loss for words. Your eyes focused on the bottle clutched his grasp, his knuckles turning white from the tight hold he had on the bottle. For a moment, you were afraid that it would shatter in his palm. He looked at you, his dark brown eyes glazed over, emotion swirling behind his darkened pupils. He brought the rim of the bottle up to his lips, taking another long swig as he stared through you. The look he gave you sent an un-welcomed chill down your spine.

You reached for the bottle, not wanting him to use liquor to cope with whatever it was that he was actively going through. You brought your hand around his wrist as you gently pried his fingers from the tight grasp they had on the bottle. He didn’t move to stop you as you took the bottle from him, placing it down on the nightstand, next to your knife, and far from his reach. You had kept the flower crown that you made him 2 years ago. The flowers were wilted and dried, but the memory remained. Alongside was the polaroid photo of you and Joel in the field of wildflowers. Now, just another distant memory.

“Enough of that, okay? I know the liquor is good. I know it helps, I know it brings you comfort, but you’re not gonna sit here and hide from me, okay? Please, Joel. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you, please.”

“S’okay. Can just get another bottle. M’not gonna fight you. Love you too much to do somethin like that. Would be hurtin myself in the process, more than I already have.”

You were reaching for his face, gently sliding your warm palms around his cheeks. Your thumbs were lightly stroking the highest points of his cheek bones. He averted his eyes from your gaze then. He didn’t want you to see him like this. Anger started to simmer, bubble, blister in the pit of his stomach. You shouldn’t be taking care of him like this. He should be taking care of you. He was supposed to be the strong one, the tough one, the protector. Especially now. He didn't believe that he deserved your comfort, not now. Not when he was like this, a shell of a man.

“You don’t want me like this, honey? You don’t want me anymore?” He spoke with a low drawl, his words slurring together.

“Joel, don’t start with that. You damn well know that’s not true.”

“Then why can’t you give me what I want? I ain’t askin’ for much. Why can’t you give that to me? Why won’t you let me? You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart baby.”

“You’re drunk, Joel. I can fuckin taste the whiskey on your breath from here. I’m not gonna take advantage of you when you're in this state. Do you hear me? You deserve so much fuckin more than that.” You tried to coax him to look at you, dragging your fingers against his jaw, but he wouldn’t budge.

He scoffed under his breath, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Since when has a little liquor stopped us, huh? Sweet girl, just tell me that you don’t want me anymore. S’okay, I can take it. I can handle it. Gotta leave this shit hole soon anyway.” He admitted.

“Those times were different Joel, and you know it.” You continued to gently hold his face, hoping that somehow you could get through to him. “Please stop saying that I don’t want you. That’s fuckin bull, and if you’re gonna act like a fuckin asshole right now–What’re you talking about leaving?”

“Tommy. I haven’t heard from Tommy in three fuckin weeks. He could be dead for all I know. He could be fuckin’ dead, and I ain’t gonna sit here and not do somethin’ about it. I found out that the radio tower is in Wyoming. I’m gonna trade some shit for a car battery, find a truck outside the QZ, and I'm gonna go find him.”

You let out a deep, slow sigh when Joel finally told you the reason why he was piss drunk and acting this way. Maybe you hadn’t lost him after all. Maybe, just maybe.

“You’re not going alone Joel. You’re not going to Wyoming by your fucking self. Don’t think for a second that i’m going to let you go on a suicide mission like that.”

Joel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, his head dropping between your hands for a moment before he lifted it slightly to look up at you. “It ain’t your fuckin choice to make ‘darlin.” You’re not gonna stop me, and I ain’t leavin’ my fuckin’ brother out there Gwen. You just don’t fuckin get it, do you?” His tone was harsh, jagged and laced with venom. He placed his hands over your small ones and ripped them from his face as he staggered up from the bedside.

“I never said I was going to stop you Joel. All I said was that you’re not fucking going alone. The fuck do you mean I don’t get it? What don’t I understand?” Your heart clenched in on itself from how he was speaking to you. You felt like a cornered animal, fearful of what was to come next. Teeth bared, snarling, with fear stricken eyes.

“You ain’t have any family left to understand.” He knew he struck a nerve with you just by the way your face immediately fell. You were visibly taken aback. His words sliced through you, cutting your heart up into tiny pieces, piercing your lungs.

“Fuck you. How fucking dare you–” You paused with your hands balling up in fists at your sides. “I may not have any fucking family left Joel, but that doesn’t mean that you get to stand there and tell me that I don’t understand what you’re going through.”

His jaw clenched harshly through the soft, casting moonlight. His own hands were at his sides, balled up in fists. All he wanted was your comfort. He nearly begged for it, but you wouldn’t give in. Why wouldn’t you give in? Let him bury his feelings away, deep between your legs. Your denial etched deep into him, reaching the cavern of his heart. He’d never force you, never would dare harm you.

He never learned how to handle loss well. He found it so easy to slip back into his old patterns. They welcomed him in with tender touches, warm whispers, as darkness enclosed around his heart.

His boots were heavy on the creaky floorboards as he took a few steps towards you. He didn’t speak, and he refused to meet your eyes as he reached around you, snatching the bottle back up from the nightstand. For a brief moment, he thought about giving in. Apologizing for being so mean, so cruel. Allow himself to crumple in your lap, and soak his heavy tears against your chest.

He didn’t want that. He wanted to suffer through his feelings, alone.

“Joel..” Your voice was hesitant, timid, nervous. There were tears already threatening to spill over as you struggled to hold them at bay.

He didn’t say a word. Even as your hand reached out for his wrist, eyes pleading with him. He didn’t give in. He was already walking back to the open doorway, bringing the bottle up to his lips as he took another painful swig.

“Why are you doing this? Baby, why won’t you let me help you? Please…you don’t have to go through this alone. I got you, you got me, always. Remember?”

“M’sleepin on the couch.” He finally responded. “Want to be alone, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow me.”

“Joel…”

“You fuckin deaf or somethin ‘darlin?” I said, leave.me.alone.”

Your emotions boiled over, tears blurring your vision as you reached for your knife on the nightstand. Gripping the familiar handle in your grasp. in one swift movement, you threw your knife at the door, purposely missing his head. The blade embedded into the worn, paint peeled door. The edge of the blade just barely grazed his ear, drawing blood from the thin skin. You had warm tears streaming down your cheekbones, your breaths heavy as Joel looked at you, stunned.

He reached his hand up, brushing his finger tip against his ear, feeling a cool wetness. He brought his finger down, observing the droplets of maroon against his skin. He chuckled, amusement in his tone.

“You missed.”

He yanked your knife from the door.

“It was on purpose Joel. You damn well know how good my aim is.”

He hummed lightly as he twirled the knife with ease. “You picture stickin’ me between the eyes when you threw it?”

“No. I imagined it nailing you in the fucking heart, you asshole.”

“Ouch. That really hurts, sweet girl.” He twirled it once more, looking at your broken, beautiful face. His presence was no longer looming in the doorway. He was gone.

You did not see Joel Miller for the next 4 days. You counted every single fucking one of them.

You waited up for him each night, praying he would come home, he didn’t. Night four you were worried something had happened to him. Your spiraling mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome; Joel, dead in a ditch somewhere. Second outcome, he found someone else. Someone that wasn’t you. No. There was no fucking way he found someone. He would never. You kept telling yourself that neither outcome was true. It was hours past curfew, the streets were quiet as you packed your bag. Grabbing your spare knife, and pistol. You were wearing one of his flannels as you headed out into the darkness of night to find him.

________________

*one day prior*

Joel was pissed. (surprise, surprise). He was furious with himself, and you. Mostly himself, for being a goddamn fucking asshole. It was easy to continue to drink the pain away, numb all his feelings. Maybe he could consume so much fucking liquor, he could forget what your face looked like.

That was a laughable thought to have. You were unforgettable. Mother fucker, were you so goddamn unforgettable. The worst part? He was reminded of how cruel he was to you each time he looked down at your stupid fucking knife. The handle was well worn, but when he saw your initials carved into the thick wood, he lost it. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

He needed something, someone, to let his anger explode out on.

All it took was two QZ residents to look at him the wrong way. Long enough that he didn’t even think of the consequences of his actions. Fuck the consequences. Fuck FEDRA, fuck the Firefly’s, fuck the infected, and fuck this world.

He followed the two suckers down an alley, hearing them laughing about god knows what. He recognized them. One of the fuckers had given Tess and Bea dirty looks for holding hands in the community center. The other? Had the hots for you. Unashamedly would check you out while you were working alongside Joel. Two excuses for human beings is all he saw as he crept down the alley. His footsteps were light, quiet, unheard.

He had only meant to teach them a lesson. Rough ‘em up a bit. Cuts, bruises, black eye maybe a broken wrist, or two. Then he heard the one guy say your name. Joel Miller was seeing red. These fuckers didn’t stand a chance. Your knife in his grasp as he spilled the filth of their crimson blood along the concrete.

It was a reckless decision, spur of the moment, and fueled by his rage. He would pay the brutal consequences of his actions, shortly after.

The tip of his knife was dripping with the congealed blood of his victims. His breaths, heavy and jagged as he came to his senses.

Too late.

“Fuck.”

Shouting, FEDRA soldiers, the wind whipping in his ears as he ran.

Had he left the crime scene quicker, he probably would have escaped. Not only was he out past curfew, but he had just brutally murdered two QZ residents. Whoops.

It didn’t take long for the FEDRA fucks to catch him, rough him up, and throw him in lockup. His life was spared simply for the fact that he had two of the soldiers wrapped around his finger, all because of a packet of pills.

The amount of liquor in his system numbed his pain receptors. He couldn’t feel shit as he was thrown into a cell.

___________

*present time*

You were incredibly cautious as you headed out onto the dark streets. You knew your decision to go looking for Joel past curfew, was a reckless one. Did you care? Not one fucking bit.

You flattened your back against a crumbling brick wall as two FEDRA soldiers passed, talking amongst each other.

“You know he doesn’t deserve to live, right? You saw what he did, man. There was so much fuckin blood.”

“He’ll get what’s coming for him eventually. If we kill him, who the hell is gonna keep getting us high?”

“Fair point.”

You were silent as their footsteps sounded further and further away. You knew they were talking about Joel; your Joel. You let out a soft breath as you crept from your hiding place. Joel had killed two people; fact. Joel was also alive, and that’s all you could think about now.

You knew exactly where Joel would be. So you waited outside the building, silently devising a plan for how you were going to bust him out of there, before FEDRA could change their mind.

Your silent thoughts were interrupted when you heard a heavy metal door creak open, the sound of a grunt, followed by a thud of a body hitting the concrete. You knew right away that it was Joel.

He was pulling himself up from the concrete, staggering to his feet and by his posture alone, you could tell he was in pain. “Motherfucker.” He grunted to himself.

You made your presence known as you appeared from behind the wall. He didn’t see you at first, but when he heard stray rocks crunching beneath boots, he was on high alert.

“Joel.”

He whipped around, nearly giving himself whiplash from the fast movement. Your voice was all too distinguishable.

“What in god’s fucking name are you doin’ out here?!” He was already walking towards you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Are you fuckin’ insane ‘darlin? Or are you just fuckin’ stupid?” He continued, waiting for you to flinch from his tone, or take a step back. You did neither.

“You tryin’ to get your ass thrown in lockup too?! Fuckin’ answer me Gwen!”

He was close enough now that you could see his split upper lip, ugly purple and blue bruising along his beautiful jaw, and his black eye. In a fury, you had grabbed his face in your palms gently, searching his eyes.

“Who the fuck did this to you?”

He was taken aback by your gentle touch, he expected you to be rough on him from the way he treated you, but you were the complete fucking opposite.

“Who fucking did this to you Joel?!” You harshly whispered.

He chuckled as he looked into your eyes, “FEDRA. Got thrown in lockup, obviously. Now answer me. What the fuck are you–”

You cut him off, ignoring his question. You knew the answer as to why he was thrown in lockup. You wanted to hear it from his own mouth, in his words.

“What the fuck did you do to get thrown in lockup?” You demanded.

He sneered at you. His face hurt from the movement but he didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you like to know ‘darlin.”

You let go of his face and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking it.

“Yeah, cowboy. I would fuckin like to know.”

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face as he spoke, “killed a couple of fuckers with your knife. Felt fuckin good. Thought of you as their blood spilled out on the fuckin’ concrete. Thought of you the whole time baby.” He spat.

You didn’t even skip a fucking beat from his confession. You already knew the truth after all, and there was no reason for you to be shocked.

“Yeah? You thought of me? Did they deserve it?”

“Didn’t like the way they were lookin’ at me. Wanted to teach ‘em a lesson, and I got carried away. One of ‘em gave Beatrix a dirty look for holdin’ Tess’s hand a while back. The other? He had the hots for you. Always lookin’ at you, checkin’ you out. They both deserved it.”

“Y’know you can’t just go and kill people cause they looked at you the wrong way Joel.”

“I know, but I'd be lyin’ to your face if I told ya it didn’t feel good. They were scumbags, and they had it ‘comin.”

“Did you really have to go and kill them with my knife though?” You asked, your hands were still gripping the collar of his shirt tightly.

“Considerin’ you threw it at my fuckin’ head, yeah. Felt poetic.”

You let out a sigh, loosening your grip on him slightly, your anger was still simmering.

“You gonna’ answer my question now? Gonna’ tell me why in the hell you’re out here past fuckin’ curfew nonetheless?”

“You haven’t come home in 4 fuckin days Joel. I was worried that something had happened. That you were fucking dead in a goddamn ditch somewhere. I’m perfectly aware of the consequences of being out past curfew, Joel. I don’t care about the consequences. I just had to make sure that you were okay.”

He was in disbelief. His brows were furrowed in as you explained yourself.

“What’re you doin’ givin’ a fuck about me after the way I treated you, sweet girl. What is fuckin’ wrong with you? You shoulda’ been wishin’, prayin’ that I was dead.”

You laughed, your voice cracking slightly because how could this man be so fucking stupid?

“What makes you think that I wouldn’t care? You think that I can just erase you that easily, Joel? You think for a second that I wouldn’t fucking come looking for you?”

He opened his mouth to speak, no words were formed, he looked like a fucking blubbering fish.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear you say some bullshit about how I deserve better. I’m too good for you, blah blah blah. Fucking swallow those words right now Joel.”

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

“Yes ma'am.” He whispered.

You wasted no time grabbing his hand, taking him back home, despite his protests.

The shower started shortly after you arrived home. Your movements were slow, gentle, careful as you removed his shirt from the hem. You found new scars blooming on his beautiful skin. Despite the fact that you were emotionally hurt by this man, you refused to let him suffer alone. You pressed a light kiss to his soft tummy, just above the navel.

“Baby Doll, what’re you–”

“Shuddup Joel.”

You tossed his shirt to the side before you undid his belt buckle, listening to the clanking of metal as you carefully shimmied his jeans down his legs with his boxers. You kept your gaze locked on his eyes as you discarded his clothes. You ignored the feeling of his hands along your waist, his own touch was delicate, comforting. You pushed his hands off of you as you gestured to the shower.

“Get in.”

“Gwen, please–”

“Get in the fucking shower Joel.”

He let out a pained sigh, bringing his hands down to his sides as he stepped under the cold stream of water. It felt like knives and needles stabbing into his back all at once.

You were already turning on your heel, attempting to leave till his hand reached out, wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you under the stream with him.

“Joel what the fuck are you doing–”

“Please. Please, darlin’ don’t go. Please, I'm sorry.” He begged, his tone rasping.

Your clothes were already being soaked through as he pulled you into his chest, holding you firmly against him.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You let out a sigh, slowly turning around in his arms so you were facing him.

“Apologies are not going to fix this Joel.”

“I know honey, I know. I promise I will make it up to you.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you reached around him and grabbed what was left of the bar of soap. You gently wiped away the dirt, dried blood, and filth from his skin. You let him hold you, but you refused to fully give in. He was smart enough, respectful enough, to not try anything funny.

_________________

The nightmares started shortly after you brought Joel back home. Each night they got worse and it killed you inside to see him suffer like this. You were torn up. Joel had hurt you, you hurt him and it was beginning to feel like a vicious, endless cycle.

On this particular night, it was storming. The wind howled as the heavy rain pelted against the windows. Flashes of bright, white lighting struck against the black sky, and rumbles of thunder followed shortly after. You could hear Joel mumbling in his sleep, his back facing you. He mumbled Sarah’s name, Tommy. His tone was strained, pained. “You’re okay. Please, you’re okay. Move your hand, baby.” “Tommy, help me!” He was twitching under the covers, his body was trembling, there was cold sweat dripping down his bare back, chest, and forehead.

You wanted to pretend that you couldn’t hear his mumbles, his pained cries for his dead daughter and assumably alive brother. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out entirely, but you couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop caring about this man.

You rolled over so you were facing his back and placed your hand between his shoulder blades. Your fingers splayed across his sweat soaked skin.

“Joel. Baby, wake up.” You whispered.

You received no response, even as you gently shook him.

“Joel. wake up, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up baby, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

You shook him once more, a little firmer this time and he suddenly shot up from under the covers. His eyes were wide, frantic as he looked around. His wild gaze finally landed on you. His chest was rising and falling harshly, his nostrils flared and he looked like he was in a daze.

“Joel. Hey, honey. It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

He was reaching for you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he yanked you to his chest, pulling you into his lap.

Your thighs instinctively wrapped around his hips as you brought your hands up to his face, gently holding his cheeks in your warm palms, while his sweaty forehead rested against yours.

“Sarah..she–she. My baby girl–”

“I know baby..I'm sorry.” You gently stroked your thumbs against his cheekbones as his tears began to freely fall, his body still trembling under your gentle grasp.

“Tommy he–he.”

“He’s alive Joel. I promise you, he’s alive.”

“We don’t know. We–we don’t. He’s all I have left of my family. He’s the only one left.”

“I know he is Joel. I know, and I understand. You’re safe, and you don’t need to go through this alone. Okay? I know how you feel right now baby. I felt the same things you are feeling right now, after they died.”

He pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed in as he looked at you.

“Tell me how they died, please. I-I–want to know.”

“I had to kill them, Joel; My parents. It was just the three of us at one point. I was twenty. Came home one day, everything seemed normal. We were sitting around the dinner table and they were..something was off. They had this..this dead look in their eyes. They weren’t talking and then, I just knew. I fucking knew they were infected. I had no time to mourn Joel. They lunged at me and I took my knife, and killed them. Their only child, their only daughter, killed them. I left Michigan after that. Left the ranch, left my home, and never returned.”

Joel was at a loss for words. He could not even begin to fathom what you had gone through. He felt entirely guilty for saying that you couldn’t understand what he was going through. You knew his pain all too well. He held you as close as he physically could. His grip around your waist was firm, yet gentle. God, he felt terrible.

“Honey, baby, I'm so sorry..I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“Joel, please do not feel sorry for me. Okay? I did what I had to do to survive. It was either me, or them. I was left with no other choice.”

“I don’t care, my sweet girl. You should have never had to go through that.”

“I endured it, Joel. I mourned, I moved on. Ran right into you. The point is, you shouldn’t feel alone. You don’t have to be, okay? Please don’t push me away. I know how easy it is to dig yourself into a hole, let the walls cave in. I know exactly what you’re feeling, and I am right here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We have to do somethin’ I can’t just leave him out there Gwen.”

“I know. That’s why you and I are going to go look for Tommy, together. We’re gonna get that car battery, leave the QZ, and go to Wyoming. I’ll go anywhere with you. I got you, you got me, always.”

He took a deep breath, while he allowed your words, and the significance they held, wash over him.

He gave you a small nod, stroking his thumbs along the soft skin of your lower back.

“You got me, I got you, always.”

It was true, you’d follow Joel Miller, your fellow, your guy, anywhere.

Chapter 14:

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

WALKINGINTHEHEARTBREAKSATELLITE’S MASTERLIST

Kofi

Posting Schedule!

Minors DNI

(They Long To Be) Close To You

(Harry Styles x reader)

(No mention of pandemic.This starts as Harry writes Harry's house)Y/N lived a simple life. She worked and she loved what she did. She loved her family and she was happy. She didn't think she needed anything else. But one day, on a flight to a new adventure, she meets the one person she never expected to meet.

(1)

FLICKER MASTERLIST

Basic warnings: mention of verbal abuse, insecurities, age gap(9 years), smut, mature language.

She threw her life into her work. The next role, the next script. No time for love. The life as a director and voice actor was fulfilling, as she wasn't alone, and she was always busy. She had her friends and her roommates. She worked with so many people. And yet, she couldn't feel more alone. But on an odd night, visiting some family overseas, she meets a man.

Ch. 1 Fire Away

Ch.2 Arms Of A Stranger

Ch. 3 You And Me

Ch. 4 Bend The Rules(Contains Smut)

Ch. 5 Heaven (Contains Smut)

Ch. 6 WIP

Birthday special- God Only Knows

Harry Styles

Don’t Let The Flame Die (Part One)

-9-1-1 Fox crossover

Little One(Mikaelson! Reader)

-Yours, To Eternity

Just For You

The Arrangement pt.1? (Harry Styles x Bridgerton)

I’m Here, Right Here Pt.1

-Wishing I Could Be There For You Pt. 2

Through the Dark(The Last of Us AU)- 1

You & I

Something Great

I Want Forever

Everything About You

Fake Happy(1)

Summer Love (Contains Smut)

Sky High- {1}

Lover

Hope We Grow Up But We Never Grow Old(BIRTHDAY BLURB)

Requests

What Did I Miss?(Niall Horan x Reader)

Welcome To The Show(Niall Horan x reader)

Meltdown(Niall Horan x Reader)

Save My Life(Niall Horan x Reader)

I Don’t Like This Game! (Harry Styles x reader)

On A Night Like Tonight (Niall Horan x Reader)

Tag List Form

Tag list

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @cupidsdolll @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg @cayleyhannha-blog @acesofspadess @that-mcu-fan @styles-barnes-bitch @purple9950 @justmystyles @itslottiehere @cinnamonone

[enchantedlandcoffee]

November 2023 Fic Recs

Happy 28th everyone!! Here's a list of a few fics I've read in November 2023.

⋆☆Series☆⋆

laur's nutvember 2023 series by @greeneyesfriedrice

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

⋆☆Fics☆⋆

words weren't enough by @red-pandaaa

Louis wandered into the living room, just watching Harry play for a bit. It made Louis’ heart crack a little, seeing him like that; hunched over the keys, the muscles on his back tense. But it was a quiet sniffle that Louis finally jerked into action, carefully approaching the slumped figure on the piano bench. “Hey, darling.” OR Louis finds Harry practicing the piano piece for his last show late at night, and there are some tears, memories and playing the piano together involved

it's a three way call and he knows nothing by shiptattoo | @wecantalktomorrow

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Friends to Lovers, Nonbinary Louis Tomlinson, Porn with Feelings

And, well, fuck. If that wasn’t all the permission they needed. Louis leaned in and pressed their lips to Harry’s quickly, kissing her in the way they had dreamed about since the day they met her. All of the pent up control and hunger escaped as they tried to devour her mouth with their own. Harry dropped the phone to the bed, wrapping her arms around Louis’s neck and pulling them in closer as they kissed. Her lips parted in a gasp at the ferocity behind it, moaning wantonly when Louis’s tongue slipped into her mouth, sucking at it hungrily as it explored. “Gonna treat you so good."

Eating Out by @red-pandaaa | red_panda28

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff

So maybe Harry had a crush on his roommate turned best friend. No big deal. He coped in the best way possible: by making jokes and sexual innuendos at any given time. Glossing over his feelings with humour and sarcasm to make sure Louis knew he found the idea of doing anything remotely romantic or sexual with Louis completely ridiculous. OR Louis and Harry are best friends and roommates, they're both oblivious to the other's pining, and it takes a silly misunderstanding for them to finally admit their feelings

Must Be Love by @babyhoneyheslt

General Audiences | Niall Horan/Harry Styles | Murder Mystery, Falling In Love, Even Planning, Strangers to Lovers

Niall always runs from his problems. So fleeing from London to the quiet Welsh town Hay-On-Wye isn’t surprising. Being a suspect in a murder case is. And so is falling for the cute bookshop owner that’s trying to help him clear his name.

There's a devil in your smile (it's chasing me) by @lunarheslwt

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Angel Harry Styles, Demon Louis Tomlinson, Porn Without Plot

“Come on, angel,” Louis coaxed, sweet in a way purely reserved for him. A helpless shudder rippled through him. “Know how much you love letting me have my way with you.” Harry inhaled sharply in time with Louis dragging his lips up to his ear, before he was whispering hotly, “Know you can be so good and ask for it.” A sharp sound was pulled out of him as Louis sucked at his ear lobe. “For me.” And when the plea finally left Harry’s lips, it was punched out, greedy. “Please.” Louis’ slow, pleased smile and unwavering eye contact was balm to his frantic, simmering arousal. “Please what, darling?” “Please,” he gasped, unable to look away, burning under Louis’ intense gaze, “my wings … please tie them up.” Or, angel Harry learns of the true pleasure that surrendering and giving up control can bring, and demon Louis teaches him the virtue of patience.

love is a word, you gave it a name by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Famous Louis Tomlinson, Non-Famous Harry Styles, Age Difference, Older Louis Tomlinson, Genderfluid Harry Styles

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Harry Styles is Marcel, First Time, Enemies to Lovers, Friends With Benefits

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin. Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong? Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

[violetsandfluff]

Welcome to the Concept Café!

If you’re a writer or reader looking for inspiration, look no further.

Rules: Order a fic from the writer who reblogged this. Include who you want the fic to be written about and any of the following elements.

Dishes ~ Style

🥣 Bowl • Fluff

🍽️ Plate • Angst

🥡 Takeout • Smut (I’m not writing smut anymore but other writers might!)

Meals ~ Relationship Status

🥗 Salad • Married

🥪 Sandwich • Engaged

🌭 Hotdog • Dating

🍕Pizza • Just friends

🫕 Soup • Strangers

Drinks ~ Settings & Scenarios

🫙 Water • Boring afternoons together

🥛 Milk • Meeting their parents

☕️ Coffee • Morning kisses

🍵 Tea • Sick day

🧋Boba tea • Concert/music festival

🧃 Juice box • Coming out

🥤 Pop • Long-distance

🍸 Martini • Road trip/vacation

🥂 Champagne • Date night/anniversary

Snacks ~ Song Lyric Prompts

🍓 Strawberries • “Look at the stars // look how they shine for you // and everything you do” (Yellow, Coldplay)

🍌 Banana • “And I know that we can be so amazing // And baby your love is gonna change me // And now I can se every possibility” (Just Haven’t Met You Yet, Michael Buble)

🍇 Grapes • (All I got is one shot, one try // one go around in this beautiful life…) (Keep Me In The Moment, Jeremy Camp)

🍅 Tomatoes • “Cuz if I want you, and I want you, babe // Ain’t going backwards, won’t ask for space…” (Close, Nick Jonas)

🍊 Orange • “In the dark we’re barely holding on // then you rest your head upon my chest // and you feel like there ain’t nothing left…” (Flicker, Niall Horan)

🥕 Carrots • “If we ever broke up I’d call your dad // tell him all the shittiest of things you said…” (If We Ever Broke Up, Mae Stephens)

🫐 Blueberries • “Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life // say yes, say yes…” (Rude, Magic!)

🍉 Watermelon • “You don’t have to say you love me // you don’t have to say nothing…” (Adore You, Harry Styles)

🍐 Pear • “That seatbelt’s on your chest, hearing your heart, holding you down…” (Coffee, Tori Kelly)

🫑 Bell pepper • “

🫛 Pea pods • “Is it too late now to tell you that everything means nothing if I can’t have you…” (If I Can’t Have You, Shawn Mendes)

🫘 Beans • “If this is what it's like falling in love // then I don't ever wanna grow up…” (Kid in Love, Shawn Mendes)

🥜 Peanuts • “I’ll buy you anything // I’ll buy you any ring…” (Baby, Justin Bieber)

🍚 Rice • “But I knew you // trying to change the ending…” (Cardigan,Taylor Swift)

🧀 Cheese • “Here’s my number // so call me maybe…” (Call Me Maybe, Carly Rae Jepsen)

🍟 Fries • “Stop the clocks, it’s amazing // you should see the way the light dances off your head…” (Afterglow, Ed Sheeran)

🍳 Egg • “I know times are getting hard // but just believe me, girl // someday I’ll pay the bills with this guitar // we’ll have it good…” (Hey There Delilah // The Plain White T’s)

🥓 Bacon • Oh, I could have that voice playing on repeat for a week // and in this packed out room swear she was singing to me…” (Galway Girl, Ed Sheeran)

🍤 Shrimp • “There’s things I wanna say to you // but I’ll just let you live…” (Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey)

🍣 Sushi • “I don’t want you to get lost // I don’t want you to go broke…” (Music For A Sushi Restaurant, Harry Styles)

🍥 Narutomaki • “Take me into your loving arms // kiss me under the light of a thousand stars…” (Thinking Out Loud, Ed Sheeran)

🥐 Croissant • “Touch my neck and I’ll touch yours // You in those little high-waisted shorts…” (Sweater Weather, The Neighborhood)

🥨 Pretzel • “When I first saw you from across the room // I could tell that you were curious…” (Perfect, One Direction)

🥯 Bagel • “Call me, baby, if you need a friend // I just wanna give you love…” (One Call Away, Charlie Puth)

🍬 Candy • “And when you smile // the whole world stops and stares for a while…” (Just The Way You Are, Bruno Mars)

🍭 Lollipop • “I met you in the dark // you lit me up…” (Say You Won’t Let Go, James Arthur)

🍫 Chocolate • “Strawberry ice cream // one spoon for two…” (Deja Vu, Olivia Rodrigo)

Sweets ~ Extra elements

🍰 Cake • Playful flirting

🍩 Donut • Kissing envelopes/love letters

🥧 Pie • Baking together

🍮 Custard • Sharing clothes

🥠 Fortune cookie • Sharing earbuds

🍪 Cookie • Sharing the last cookie

🥮 Mooncake • Holding hands in public

🍡Thing • Playing with each other’s hair

🍦Ice cream cone • Singing to lover

🍨 Ice cream dish • Feeling clingy

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fics that have public displays of affection 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!

—Harry/Louis—

♡ Remember Me Before You by @kingsofeverything

(E, 293k, New Girl au) Desperate to find a new place to live after he comes home to find his boyfriend cheating, Harry moves into a loft with three strangers.

♡ The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint

(E, 163k, canon) 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.

♡ For the Right Reasons by @juliusschmidt

(E, 105k, friends to lovers) Louis may have signed up to be a contestant on the Bachelor, but he’s not interested a ring or a proposal, not from Harry, not from anyone.

♡ dusted in gold by frenchkiss

(M, 100k, fashion au) Harry’s an A-list supermodel, Louis’s his make-up artist boyfriend. They’re something of a dream team.

♡ Been Together Since Way Back When by @alivingfire

(E, 95k, uni au) the painfully realistic college au where everyone's poor, lovesick, tired of school, terrified of the future, and still having the greatest times of their lives.

♡ knock knock, i love you by beautlouis

(E, 86k, uni au) Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. 

♡ i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 50k, girl direction) Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. 

♡ From Dust to Lust by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 49k, enemies to lovers) the one where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are totally a thing, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.

♡ Make It Up To You by its_my_FIC_in_a_box

(E, 37k, uni au) AU in which Harry studies History at LSE and Louis studies design at Central Saint Martin's. 

♡ Hint: I want to be yours by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(M, 11k, fwb) the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

♡ Prelude to Forever by AlwaysAqua / @always-aqua

(M, 13k, Pride) Louis and Harry meet at Pride in Chicago and spend the day falling for each other before getting accidentally separated.

♡ Kiss the Boys by @fallinglikethis

(E, 8k, Pride) “Being able to blatantly kiss pretty boys out in the open is my favorite part of Pride,” Harry says without preamble, leaning into Louis’ space, inviting pink lips quirking up as they get closer to him. “You up for it?”

♡ You're The Pumpkin Of My Eye by @faithinwalls369

(G, 4k, pumpkin patch) Harry and Louis go on a seasonal date, that is sweeter than the confectionery in a trick or treat bucket. It’s filled with sweet snuggles, cute kisses and pumpkin picking.

♡ you and me? always by fearlessrry

(NR, 3k, canon) Canon fic based on that one day in 2018 where Nick tweeted about couples holding hands in this hot weather.

—Rare Pairs—

♡ When you love someone, you make room by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992

(E, 20k, Louis/Jamie Campbell Bower) Jamie Campell Bower is a big deal, of that Louis is sure. He's a walking charmer with a jawline to die for. So, it's a bit of a surprise when Jamie looks his way, let alone approaches him to chat him up.

♡ over my shoulder by @nouies

(E, 10k, Louis/Sebastian Stan) The media thinks omega singer Louis Tomlinson is dating alpha actor Sebastian Stan because they bump into each other all the time. Everything changes when they accidentally bond.

♡ With This Wing, I Thee Wed by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 4k, Niall/Louis) Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.” “And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

[apureniallsource]

Niall Horan tends to greet strangers with a compliment — which would be charming enough even if it weren’t delivered in a rich Irish accent and from the smiling mouth of an international pop star. “Love the glasses!” he cheers over Zoom, before eyeing my jacket: “And that, too!” I’m far from the only recipient of such warmth: In videos archived across the last 14 years, Horan greets loyal fans like old friends, eager to see them again, and treats journalists with a reverence that never comes across as hollow. Return the favor and he’ll hit you with cheeky bashfulness, like an exemplary student of the music industry’s best media training.

In 2023, Horan is far from his bottle-blond days spent in the world’s biggest boy band, One Direction, but the honest wholesomeness that made him America’s onetime favorite member and inspired some equally deranged and delightful memes (like the one that goes, “Imagine Niall Horan crawling inside your ear. You tell him to stop but he is in there”) still remains. And lately, everyone seems to want a piece of it, from world leaders — in March, he performed for President Joe Biden and Taoiseach Leo Varadkar at a White House event — to the millions of people who watch The Voice, where Horan serves as a coach and recently guided his mentee Gina Miles to the top prize. The Voice marks his first time working as a competition-show judge, but not his first time appearing on such a program: One Direction famously finished third on the United Kingdom’s X Factor in 2010 before going on to forever reshape boy bands as we know them.

For Horan — who will release his third album, The Show, on Friday — joining The Voice meant reconnecting with his 16-year-old self: the ambitious and courageous teen who toldThe X Factor judges back in 2010 that he was “ready to fill arenas around the world” before having sung a note. No wonder he was the first one selected for 1D after the boys were put together following their solo eliminations. (On the recent dearth of big pop groups, Horan thinks the future is all about the ladies: “I love Blackpink. All four of them have such individual personalities. That’s what made people love them.”) “I didn’t have anxieties then,” Horan laughs. “I was just having a great time.” That informs the advice he gives contestants. “On The Voice, you see a lot of technical singers who are very serious about what they do,” he says. “I’m just trying to get them to enjoy what they’re doing. You’re on one of the bigger shows in the country. Millions of people watch every night. Enjoy it.”

If there was any hesitancy in joining The Voice, an arena so similar to the one that kick-started it all for him, it was that he “wasn’t sure [if] it was going to be an overproduced thing where I get told what to do, say, and when to turn.” He smiles. “It’s absolutely not.”

Who can blame him for wanting some semblance of control? In the 1D days, cleanliness clauses threatened career consequences for any unsavory behaviors, and the band’s sheer popularity meant limited freedoms, a life of stalling in vans or rolling deep with security. “I couldn’t really go many places,” he says. “So I try to keep my private life as private as I possibly can. There’s a tendency in the world to take your arm off when you offer a handshake, you know what I mean?” He pauses. “But I’m not hiding.”

Niall Horan’s story is a master class in manifestation. The first voice in the 2013 documentary One Direction: This Is Us is his: “When I was small, I had a desk. It was weird because I wrote on it, ‘When I grow up, I want to be a singer,’” he says. “I scribed it in! It’s still on the desk.” Born and raised in Mullingar, Ireland, the only member of his group not from England, Horan describes his childhood self as both a prankster and a natural performer — he’d get in trouble for singing traditional Irish songs in the back of geometry class, embodying the same kind of irreverent playfulness that came to define 1D. (There’s a moment in the doc where Horan reveals he recorded “What Makes You Beautiful,” One Direction’s breakout hit, in his boxers, and another where he puts on prosthetics to disguise himself as arena security, unbeknownst to fans.)

One Direction sold 70 million albums and filled arenas and stadiums around the world before going on hiatus in 2016, but solo success wasn’t preordained. Horan’s first single, “This Town,” an acoustic slow burn, performed modestly but didn’t make it past the Top 20 in the United States. The funky follow-up “Slow Hands,” inspired by Eagles member Don Henley’s solo work, righted the ship. (Horan now calls Henley a close friend: “He’s always been very big on me being myself, not trying to chase anything that doesn’t exist — and he’s always there if I want to send him something and get a reaction,” he says.) Horan talks about the song with an air of relief. “The success of ‘Slow Hands’ and the first album felt like a big moment,” he says. “And the first tour — learning I can go around the world and still play to thousands.”

Another curveball came three years later, when he released his second album, the synth-pop-flavored Heartbreak Weather, on March 13, 2020 — the day the United States declared COVID-19 a national emergency. It was “a kick in the stomach,” as he describes it. “I was, like everyone, angry at the world for allowing this to happen,” he says. “And then the stillness took over for a second.”

Today, it’s hard to fight the impulse to eye-roll when celebrities talk about the pandemic, but Horan believes he, like everyone else, has been irrevocably changed by it. “I think I might be the eternal optimist,” he says. “I hadn’t had any time off in 10 years. I [thought I] might as well get fit and put the suitcase away in the closet for a little bit. Because at that point, my life was so rat race-y.” He spent his days working out, playing golf, and getting really into Formula 1. (Ask for his favorite driver, and he’ll give you the most Niall response of all time: “I’m a fan of nearly all of them.”) “The pandemic was horrific,” he says, but also: “It was boring! As a guy that travels the world on a regular basis, I was so bored.”

So he got to work on a new album sooner than he planned, writing the majority of The Show in Joshua Tree, without the kind of illicit substances musicians may be inclined to experiment without in the desert. (“No, jeez! No. Thankfully not,” he laughs.) The Show is Horan at his most adventurous, a kaleidoscope of pop-rock sounds of decades past, amped up for arena-sized grandeur. “I’m not just the fella with the acoustic guitar all the time,” he laughs. “I put my neck on the line.” The lustful track “On a Night Like Tonight,” for instance, starts off with a dreamy singer-songwriter intro before detouring into anthemic prog-rock — like Muse doing ’90s Britpop. “If you asked me to release a song like that seven years ago, I would’ve laughed in your face,” he says. “I’ve grown into it a bit. I gave myself permission. It’s probably not what people are expecting of me — and here’s my fingers crossed as tight as you can possibly get them.”

He describes the album as tackling “big life thoughts,” not just the kind you have after history-altering world events but also the ones on your mind as you approach your 30s. The first song he wrote for The Show was the title track, an ode to the gratitude he felt in a time of deep unrest. “You have to swim through the sh*t water to get to the clear stuff,” he explains. “Everything will be OK if you just see it out.” During the pandemic, he couldn’t help but think about how much better life was before, and how he should be thankful for it — or, at the very least, that he’s got to learn to take the good with the bad. The chorus goes like this: “If everything was simple, how would we know / How to fix your tears / How to fake a show / How to paint a smile / Yeah, how would we know / How good we have it, though?” “There’s a façade to most people,” Horan says, addressing the “how to fake a show” line. It’s not about going through the motions at a concert, but about the everyday performance of being a person. “I’m not saying we’re all going around faking everything, but there are parts of yourself you don’t give away.” He pauses. “I’m finding it hard to explain… In some ways, you’re always trying to be the best version of yourself.”

When Horan talks, he often punctuates vulnerabilities with a joke or a folksy aphorism. “The phrase in Ireland is ‘if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry,’” he laughs. But he doesn’t veer away from the hard stuff in song. “Meltdown,” the second single from The Show, was written as a balm for someone having an anxiety attack: “When it all melts down, I’ll be there,” he sings to the sufferer in the song’s chorus. “It’s at 180 BPM, which is a good representation of the heart rate [when beating fast],” he says, “but I also like to have a silver lining in my music.” (While he says he experiences anxiety on occasion, contrary to previous reports, he does not have severe OCD. “That got misconstrued,” he clarifies. “I’m not saying I’m fully OCD. [...] I’ve definitely had overwhelming moments.”)

When he does experience anxiety, he has a few grounding tactics. “I literally say to myself, ‘It’ll all be over in a few minutes. It’ll all be over in a few minutes.’ The thing to do in that scenario is try and keep yourself as calm as possible, and tell yourself that it will all be OK,” he says. “And weirdly enough, most of the time, it turns out OK.” Get this man a Calm app endorsement deal, stat.

That unrelenting optimism is a core facet of his personality. “I’ve always been like that: ‘This is sh*t, but I’m sure it’ll be OK soon,’” he says. But it perhaps accounts for just how well-adjusted he seems after going through the boy-band ringer and half a lifetime in the spotlight. He’s never been at the center of controversy, with the exception of dropping a curse here and there as a teen, which he does so now judiciously. (Recently, Horan enjoyed a pint of beer in a Guinness-branded documentary with singer Lewis Capaldi and was shown getting into a car and driving. His mum came to his defense, saying it was a nonalcoholic beverage. The debate ended there.) Even when I half-jokingly ask for his opinion on cults, a nod to The Show ballad “You Could Start A Cult,” he laughs. “It definitely worked as a metaphor for me! I don’t… no strong views on cults. At least, no public ones.”

That song, as he tells it, is about being so in love with someone that if they started a cult, you’d follow them into it. Is he madly in love right now? “That’s dead right.” He doesn’t mention his longtime girlfriend, account manager Amelia Woolley, by name because “if everyone knew everything, [my songwriting] wouldn’t be as candid, would it?” he says. “There’d be all these theories, and I’m not in town for that. I’m here to write what’s on my brain, and love happens to be one of those things that’s flying around me.”

Horan is staying accessible to fans in other ways, fully embracing the expectations of being a very famous person: He’s dropping skin care routines and goofing around on TikTok. This summer, he’s making his way across the festival circuit — good practice for 2024, when he’ll launch into the biggest solo tour of his career to date, which includes a headlining spot at Madison Square Garden, 12 years after 1D did the same. After a few disruptive years, he’s returned to the lifestyle that feels like home, now as a veteran professional and soloist in his own right. He’s the same nice guy, just with some life experience. And he’s enjoying the ride: “Looking at arenas full of people — it’s the best view in the world.”

[lyrics-planet]

— Niall Horan, Arms of a Stranger

[blingblong55]

Normal People- Simon ''Ghost'' Riley

You and Simon were once together when you were younger, you eventually grew apart. Years later you two by some coincidence meet once again.

A/N: listen to any of these songs, trust me!!! (This Town-Niall Horan, Photograph- Ed Sheeran, Strange-Celeste, Like Real People Do- Hozier, Sparks- Coldplay)

Based on a request:

GN!Reader, little angst, lovers to strangers(in a way) to lovers again

You and Simon have known each other since primary school. Neither of you knew you'd end up falling in love by the time secondary school came around. It was always you two against the problems of life and teenage drama. He asked you to be his boyfriend/girlfriend by year 10, ever since that day you and him were more than inseparable. His mates always teased him about it, it was rather adorable how much he would blush when they'd mention you two as a couple. He would sneak into your room after hours, whisper everything and try to contain his laugh when you'd say some terrible jokes. At times you two would sneak up to the roof and just stare at the stars all night.

One night as you two watched the stars he asked you to school formal. It was a big deal amongst friend groups and couples, so you of course said yes. That night as your friend group all drank beer by some campfire after the dance, you sat on his lap. He was all quiet, his eyes never leaving yours. "I love you, r/n'' he whispered into your ear. You looked at him with puppy eyes. You smiled and kissed him.

Ever since, any time you really meant it, he or you would say it, even if the time wasn't right, it could only be said when it was meant and no other time. As time went on, he joined the military, you stayed back and finished college, when he came back, you were working as an assistant. One night he went to visit his mum, she advised he visit you. And as he walked the streets, there you were with the same friend group. You and your friends laughing and drinking, everyone with their significant other, you sat with them, an empty stool next to you.

"Okay Simon, I understand, and don't worry darling, at every table I sit by, I'll save ya a seat, that's a promise''

''you don't have to do that, love''

Eventually one night you and him broke up. His role in the military got more serious, it demanded more of him. And you both knew it was time to just call it quits. You two had grown apart, it was an event that had to happen. You would move out to Dublin soon, a top Uni there accepted you(see what I did there,,anyways). Simon would have to leave England for months on end, it was just bound to happen. So when you called it quits, you moved to Ireland and he to somewhere in the world, wherever the military took him.

He carried a picture of you both from the night of the school formal. It was you and him sitting by the campfire, you in your attire and he in his suit, he had his arms around your waist. The way you two smiled at the camera, a true moment where he felt safe and at home.

--------

He was now 29, soon to be thirty, you'd be around the same age as well. He was now a lieutenant for the army, you a successful company executive. There were nights were he wondered where you were in Ireland, if you had met someone new, if maybe you had written him letters but just never sent them out. If you had maybe settled down, if you even remembered how at some point you were his life, the sole purpose why he always was a better man.

At drunken nights, thats when he thought of you the most. How you kissed him on rooftops, sneaked out just to talk to him, or the nights where you played the piano at some pubs. Maybe it was the sense of home, belonging that he missed, but maybe it wasn't, it was your sweet voice, how you would caress his face, rub his back, listen to his problems, kissed him under that stormy night, how by morning, you two laid on the couch at his mum's drinking tea and eating soup because you two got sick.

On cold lonely nights in the desert, thats when he missed you the most.

But as any true mystery in this world, you one warm night found each other once more. You in some jeans and a white tee, he in a black shirt and an old pair of jeans. Manchester was quite boring if you've been a local. You pushed your trolly around the store, you accidentally bumped into a tall man. ''Shit, sir I am incredibly sorry I was looking at this stupid stupid date on the-'' You looked up from the can of beans.

''R/n?''

''If it isn't Simon Riley'' you said in a happy tone.

He noticed the same old locket he gave you on your 16th birthday, it was a picture you took on a booth. You and him smiling at the camera. It gave his chest a good kind of ache. It was nice to know he was thought of.

''I thought you'd forgotten all about me, love.'' He walked up to you, his arms opening a little. You too walked to him and hugged him, ''not in a million years, Simon.'' You kissed his cheek, oh that warm fuzzy feeling of belonging.

He looked at you, his hands caresses the sides of your face. He looked at you, mesmerized you hadn't changed a bit, your smile still warm and beautiful. He smiled as his hands had a feel for your still soft skin. Your eyes welled up a little, it was a relief he was still on this Earth.

The many nights you wished you went to Sunday school and learned to pray, to believe, to hope. One night you did though, you had just arrived from Ireland, you went to a local church, you sat there and whispered, ''please, if you really are real, if he is still out there, just..keep him safe, please''

''You look rather ravishing my love.'' He smiled at you, he looked all over your face, studying it and remembering all of the small details.

''Sorry, again for hitting your bum with the trolly.'' you chuckled. He shook his head, ''s'right, love.'' he said almost in a rather happier tone. It was crazy to see you here, but he wasn't complaining, thats for sure.

''when did you get here by the way?'' he took your trolly, and tossed his basket on it, he pushed the trolly and walked towards the next aisle, you following along.

''Here in Manchester? well lets see, I came back I think 6 years ago?..yeah definitely six. And you?''

''Got back last week, you know the whole army thing.'' he said as he happily looked through his list of must buys.

''Hm I see...I suppose your partner made that list for ya?'' you asked in a curious way, looking for a 'no, my mum needs this,,,no partner..been waiting for ya' type of answer.

''No, I am making some dinner for myself, and no, no partner,,,still.'' he had given up in trying to find someone after you, and that one failed date he had about 8 years ago.

''ah I see well-''

''do you..y'know, have someone to go home to? is this to forward or-''

''no no, not all, no, its not forward..um..no I don't been too much of a selfish person since my job.''

It was silent for a few minutes as he walked down the aisle. ''so,,,I get to have a second chance? or we..we can be friends? I would be okay with just anything..or not..I don't know.'' he let out a nervous chuckle as he tossed a box of sponges into the trolly.

''well..i..um do you want us to..have a second chance or-''

''yes!,,,if you're okay with it, I want to work on us, I have more time now, maybe not the most time but..this is going to sound-''

''stupid? cheesy? weird?'' you tried guessing.

''all?'' he chuckled, ''i..always thought we would end up together, you know the whole living together, walking down the aisle to me, I don't know maybe getting a dog and taking him on walks on our days off,'' he shrugs, ''its dumb, but I always thought you'd be my...my future, my little something.''

''The one thing I can get to be selfish about.'' you said, he looked at you, blush spread across his face.

''yeah,,,the one thing I can get to be selfish about, I like that,,so?''

''lets be selfish Simon, together.'' You kiss his cheek.

'Maybe the events in our lives were set in motion a long time ago. There's an old Buddhist saying that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other.'

-Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: I just rewatched and re-read Normal People, that shit is just so..real. Anyways anon I hope you enjoyed it!

[tryhoney]

so i was thinking about how i’ve read so many good fics over the last few months of joining this fandom and that i needed to archive them somehow for when i want to reread them. and also share them with all of you!

i’m really exposing myself here but these all have an explicit rating (with one m rated exception). it’s really all i read unless someone recs me something with a lower rating. just a warning to anyone who isnt into that!

the first five are my all time favorite larry fics, but after that they aren’t in any particular order. i'll be updating this as i find more i want to add.

♡

Hiding Place by anonymous (365k words) - Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual. From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance. Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint (159k words) - “We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.” Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach (160k words) - When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true.  Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started. A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile. 

The Greatest Thing by infinitelymint (164k words) - “What’s that on your finger?” Louis asks, his voice higher than usual, slightly panicked as though he’s realised something that Harry hasn’t even begun to comprehend. Harry looks down on his right hand then, sees nothing and moves on to the left, and—Oh. A ring.Or, 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. (aka the semi-canon accidentally married in Vegas fic that has been seven years in the making)

You'll Breathe Me In (You Won't Release) by LoadedGunn (95k words) - His first driving lesson with Louis takes place on a Saturday. Harry stumbles out through the front gate in thrown-on baggy jeans and his ratty Ramones shirt, sees Louis leaning casually against the car, and his knees nearly give out.  Apparently "not another surly teacher" meant a drop dead gorgeous twenty-something scruffy guy with shaggy brown hair and cheekbones sharp enough to chop a salad with. Clearly, Robin's trying to get Harry killed at seventeen. Or, the AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who's really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

Sail Across Me by iwillpaintasongforlou (22k words) - Harry is a prince that is about to be forced into marriage against his will and running away to sea seems like a much better option. Louis is the captain of the infamous pirate ship The Rogue and he has a thing for helping defenseless creatures. Especially when they're as pretty as this one.

Loving You Is Free by littlelouishiccups (68k words) - Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn't been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

let's talk about making love by istajmaal (25k words) - “That’s my name, baby, I’m Louis.” The voice on the phone inhales sharply, then says, “Gonna take my cock now, princess?” Harry lets out a high-pitched mhmm and shudders as he pulls his fingers out of his hole, groping for the vibrator. “Nice to meet you,” he says, feeling a bit dizzy with how hard his untouched cock is. Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he's Daddy.

babydoll blues by devilinmybrain (112k words) -  Louis is a high profile, filthy rich label executive who has the world at his feet - a music god.. Harry is the sugar baby trying to make a name for himself singing in shady bars and hanging off the arm of Louis' biggest rival. What Louis wants, Louis gets. But what if the game gets too hot and hits a little too close to the heart?

All That I Could Never Lose by chelseafrew (145k words) - One Direction takes on "The X-Factor" with a twist: Harry Styles was born blind.

You Were My New Dream by princesshalo ( 49k words, M RATED!! its a tangled au hellloooo) -  Prince Harry has spent the majority of his life trapped within the castle walls, forced to hide from the kingdom he never asked to be born into. He doesn’t want to be the next King of Eroda, because according to his father, kings don’t wear dresses, paint their nails, or braid flowers into their magical hair. And Harry happens to love those things about himself, almost as much as he thinks he could love the new combat instructor his father has summoned to mold him into a more acceptable man, just in time for his impending coronation.

(don't forget) where you belong by rippedgloves (39k words) - the one where Louis wakes up from a coma and doesn't remember Harry.

i'm fearless with my heart by dontletmedown (26k words) - What do you do when your heart is in one place and your brain that's trying to keep you sane is only holding on by a thin thread? [The one where a young Louis is naive and fearless with his heart when he meets a very married Harry. He possibly doesn't stand a chance.]

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode (24k words) -Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

One More Time Again by anonymous (232k words) - Harry looks down to where Louis is cradling his hand between his own. Louis' hands are slender, the bones delicate, the nails bitten short. The 2-8 on the backs of his fingers is gone, but the faded scar from a skateboarding mishap in Year 7 is still there. Harry's hand is awkward, knobby-boned and naked, no rings, no tattoos. It's too big for his wrist and his wrist too big for his arm. Yet it still somehow fits in Louis' in the painfully perfect way it always did .He blinks back the sting in his eyes. On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right. A canon-compliant fix-it fic (sort of).

Take Our Bodies Higher by littlelouishiccups (21k words) - Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that. In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

The Tiny Little Bungalow by pointerbrother (119k words) - “She wants us to move in with her and - and her kids, of course. ”Louis blinks harder. “Wait - what?!” He can’t fathom it. They’ve only been dating for five months or summat. “And you agreed to this?! Without even running it by me?!” “Yes,” Troy sighs, eyes wide and apologetic, stature provocatively calm in contrast to Louis’ jittery one, “and I knew you’d have a reaction like this one, but there’s really nothing I can tell you other than… well, that I’ve said yes already and since you’re only fifteen you’re coming with me. And… that I’m sorry to uproot you like this, lad.  But… yeah. I don’t know what more to say.” “Wait,” Louis can’t hardly breathe, “wait - hang on, does - does this mean that-” His dad nods. “Yes. We’re moving to Holmes Chapel.” or Fifteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson gets reluctantly uprooted from his Doncaster-life when his dad decides to move in with his new girlfriend Anne and her two kids. Speaking of the kids, one of them is this curly-haired bloke who's just a little too pretty for both his own and Louis' good.

Went Down In Flames by hazzatomlinson (27k words) - Louis was in an absolutely shit storm. He had let it go on for too long. Let it go too far. But he had a plan. And tonight, said plan was going down. He was going to tell the boys he was proposing this weekend. ‘Harry’ would turn him down, albeit gently, and Louis would play the heartbroken boyfriend. He’d gotten this far. All he had to do was lock himself in his bedroom and cry a little. He’d been in a few plays growing up. Piece of cake.Except. It didn’t go that way. Of course, it didn’t. Because the universe, the beautiful chaotic bitch that she was, just had to have an actual Harry Styles and he just had to be Niall’s best friend.

Here's Your Perfect by brightgolden (54k words) - All finesse tossed aside, Harry yanks the envelope from Miss Eden’s hand. He hears her laugh, bright and cheerful as he tears into the envelope. His eyes skipping over the complimentary paragraph congratulating him for being assigned, settling into the centre of the letter - the name of his future mate.And suddenly, Harry feels there isn’t enough air in this world for him to inhale as he recites the name in his mind. Louis Tomlinson.ORIn the world where mates are assigned to everyone and deposited to their door when an agreeable partner is found for them, Alpha Louis has recently been given his. However, he is nothing like the type of alpha that the omega academy prepares Harry for.

burn to ash by bethaboo (116k words) - Harry is sitting there, so fucking casual, and Louis realizes in a split second he was not ready. When Harry walked out in Detroit and never looked back, he was a boy verging on a man, still only twenty years old, but there's a man in his place now. Hard and resolute, yes, but still, for the first time in a long time, Louis can kind of see the old Harry in him. The soft, directness of his gaze, the hesitant smile he gives to Lou, the way he wrings his ridiculously large hands in his lap.He's a little bit the eager sixteen year old puppy dog again, his innocence and sweetness resurrected miraculously, and Louis freezes in place. He was prepared to face the asshole Harry. He was prepared to meet a whole new Harry.Louis is not prepared to meet one of the old incarnations of Harry, and it absolutely tears him up.Or the fic where Harry spirals out of control, the band breaks up, and then he shows back up, five years later.

Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by angelichl (114k words) - Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

[cupidskissx]

a song lyric by hozier or niall that you think could be the basis of a lestappen fic. If you want to elaborate I would appreciate it hehe or some mutual

Loving you endlessly for this ask Anon! 🤩

Cross My Mind by Niall Horan is uncannily similar to the mindset of both Max and Charles in my Monaco Malaise series (shameless plug)

I didn’t even realise until mid-last year how the lyrics speak to both of them in different ways:

It’s easy

To pretend that I'm not caught up

But when you get hot and bothered

I can't give up the fight …

Leaving me in pieces, but I swear it's worth it every time

And it doesn't even cross your mind

*

Secretly I’ve always wanted to write an Arms of a Stranger fic:

You left me with nothing

And now I'm lying in the arms of a stranger

Why do I think of you?

But I am too weak to be able to write them broken up or sleeping with other people because I can’t hurt them like that 😅