This is NOT my story all credits go to dolce_piccante on ao3 - In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for. - https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034197/chapters/9071932

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

• 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

I was the real stereotype of the ideal life. Yeah, damn stereotypes. And then I met him. With his green eyes, with his weirdness... And with his illness. "What would you do if you only had 100 days to live?" - Anonymous "I don't know. Probably would have lived. I would try to live. " - Louis. You've been something I've avoided all my life. I liked being a stereotype. You've ruined everything. When banality meets destruction, The Degradation begins