"you're so small." as if to prove his point, louis squeezed harry tightly in his arms, and harry just scrunched up a little bit, snuggling his head impossibly farther into louis' chest. "my pretty paper doll." and when louis squeezed him again, placing a shaky, yet warm kiss on harry's cold forehead, harry felt his heart feel that way again, he felt love. a soft flutter, that even the most self control in the world couldn't stop. he loved louis. he loved him even though he didn't want to, he really didn't. okay, maybe a little. *** 1ST PLACE IN THE HOLIDAY 2014 BROMANCE AWARDS FOR FAMOUS LARRY STORIES. #2 in Fanfiction #1 in One Direction

harry likes pretty pink flowers and louis enjoys ink and piercings. **This story contains possible triggers. Read at your own risk.** started in 2015, finished in 2017. slowly editing.

Louis is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival, moody dance prodigy, Harry, joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late? [COMPLETED]

I was captivated, but he was all too good at his profession: Harry Styles, Playboy. © wrenadler, All Rights Reserved. (Larry with some Ziam)

'I don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck' https://www.instagram.com/thighhighlarry/ Copyright 2014, thighhighlarry. All Rights Reserved.

"So here's the thing," he starts. "I didn't mean what I said a few weeks ago to like, hurt your feelings or anything. If you like painting your nails, then you should do that, and not like, care if anyone else doesn't like it because their opinions shouldn't matter, you know?" Louis takes a breath, finally glancing over to see the boy wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. On a whim, he adds, "And like, I noticed you scraping it off and you haven't been wearing any and I think you should because that's what you like." or an au where harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and louis' just trying to figure out whats wrong with him. {Ao3 wankersville}

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser