~You know how to ball, I know Aristotle~ "I guess when I'm with you for some time you tend to make me forget how fucked up the world is." In which Louis has an amazing friend group and a very big crush on Harry and asks him out every day. And every day, Harry rejects. Or: A larry boarding school fic based on jily and the marauders. FOR WATTPAD AND ITS GUIDELINES: Louis and Harry are 17 for most of this story but they both turn 18 towards the end and that's when the little bit of sexual action starts. There is no kissing or touching whatsoever underage.

"I love you so much. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Do you know that?"

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th? Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? (A Larry Stylinson fanfic based on the notebook) (a bit)

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

NOT MY WORK

Harry has only had his room for thirty-two minutes when it stops being his. Uni AU. Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn't expect is a surprise roommate who's loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he's ever wanted. * by Hazmesentir on ao3

© thealmightyavocado on archiveofourown ~ "Harry, I-I'm so sorry..." Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis' soul, it's so hard, nearly impossible. That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself. But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty "I'm so sorry" that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn't at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it. ✚☤✚ a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

• completed • 56.9K words • explicit • Harry stalks towards Louis, grabbing his hips. He wishes he could burn Louis with his fingertips the way Louis burns him with existence. "Not again", Harry repeats while pushing Louis' shirt up. Louis' arms lift obligingly as Harry tugs the shirt off him, tossing it vaguely towards Louis' bed. "I'm not going to sleep with you again", Harry mumbles. "Sure", Louis says, lips attaching to Harry's neck making him tilt his head. "Keep saying that if it helps." Harry scratches his nails across the small back of Louis' back. "Not again", he groans. "This - This is the last time." • or • The one in which Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are roommates. They hate each other. At least, that's what they thought. A Larry Stylinson story stuffed with angry sex, wrapped in 28 parts, with a side of weird Ziam and cheery Horan. Sequel: Habit

Louis sent 14 messages before he died. One to his mother, one to his sister Lottie, one to his sister Fizzy, one to his sister Phoebe, one to his sister Daisy, and nine to his best friend, Harry Styles.