The hall is still a little bit crowded but no one is paying attention to the girl with the crazy I-just-had-sex hair and no panties under her skirt. I can't believe what just happened and I never will. I had sex with the one and only Harry Styles. Highest rank: #1 in Fanfiction.

"Louis booked a flight to Berlin to fuck Harry Styles. He should've booked an exorcist instead." After six months of radio silence and fifteen years into a beautifully toxic situationship neither of them will ever admit to, Louis Tomlinson wakes up in Los Angeles alone, to a sunrise, a half-smoked joint, and a text from Harry Styles that simply reads: "i want you to get me pregnant." His relationship with Zara just went public. She's all sunshine, green smoothies, and Instagram-ready happiness-everything Louis should want, and nothing that makes his hands shake. So, his life, on paper, should be content. Instead? He books a last-minute flight to Berlin, cancels his studio day, and lets himself fall headfirst into the kind of chaos he swore he'd grown out of. What follows: a private fetish club with chandeliers and chapels, MDMA delivered mouth-to-mouth, angel wings stolen off a stranger, and enough sin to make a priest cry. Somewhere between lace panties, pierced cocks, and a dungeon full of bad decisions, Louis realizes two very inconvenient truths: 1. He would do anything Harry asked him to. 2. Harry might've actually gotten himself pregnant. (Not really. Probably. Maybe.) In the end, they're wrecked, high, and tangled together-again. Because this is who they are: saints, sinners, and something far worse in between. Warnings: Toxic codependency, at least three separate existential crises, lace panties, molly-fueled mistakes, pierced cock emergencies, religious imagery used very incorrectly, and Harry Styles riding Louis Tomlinson straight into blasphemy. It's chaotic, unhinged, stupidly sweet in all the wrong places, and cruel enough to make you wonder why you ever started reading in the first place.

A night shift. It brings darkness, a sense of uncertainty and unknown, you never really know what's coming through those doors until it hits you square in the face and it's all hands on deck. You never really know who's coming through those doors until their lips are on yours and you're down deep for a woman you don't even know. You never know what could happen on a night shift.

❝IF I COULD BE HONEST FOR ONE DAY, EVEN JUST FOR A SPLIT SECOND, I'D TELL YOU THAT I'M HURTING. AND I MEAN REALLY HURTING.❞ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | 2017 FUCKERINGS

❝Do something interesting, fuck another man.❞ One night. One test. One man between them. A pop star. An accomplice. A predator. A ghost with a shotgun. ... Carmen Wilder had a rule: Prove you're interesting. Louis Tomlinson knew the game. He'd played it before. Harry Styles had a problem. He was already obsessed. No matter how many warnings the Rasta whispered, Harry couldn't hear. She tasted like cocktails and cyanide, and when she told him the price of her love, he didn't even hesitate. - 𝘿𝙞𝙙 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙? 𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙎𝙤 𝙄 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙖𝙣 ['𝙋𝙊𝙋 𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙏' 𝙗𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚𝙨] - He was a popstar. She was a myth. Louis was somewhere in between. When Harry Styles walks barefoot into Carmen Wilder's penthouse, he doesn't walk back out the same. She gives him one rule: fuck Louis Tomlinson. And Harry listens. What follows is a tour through cities soaked in champagne and sweat: rooftops, opium dens, cryogenic clubs, and bloodstained beds. Carmen leaves lipstick messages on mirrors. Louis fucks like he's been here before - because he has. And Harry? He starts losing track of what's real. There are rules. There are cameras. There's a dead couple whose shadow haunts the game. And somewhere beneath the glitter and the drugs and the bruised lips, there's a popstar who thought he was untouchable. He wasn't. This isn't a love story. It's a slow, glittering collapse. Welcome to the end of the popstar myth. Bring your own Polaroid. ❝Carmen doesn't kill popstars. She makes them want to die.❞

[𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬] [𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓] Where I take the manips you freaky guys make and give them full proper stories... --- Viscount Emerald, Submissive Rockstar, Baby Lamb, High Court, Daggers & Roses, Muse For Vogue, Golden Captain, Commander LT, 'm sorry Lou, Stay With Me, Lost in the chaos, Prince Tomlinson, Aye Cap'n, Mr. Styles [𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣] ---- 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. (𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓) 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐬. ---- Our souls are woven together across timelines, I will always find my way back to you, I'll find you in every universe, in every broken version of us. And I'll love you, We're a love that never should have been, but it's the only one I'll ever know. --- ©𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚𝙨

"A word from you and I'll set you on fire" She says as I sit next to her while she's zoned out facing front. "Wow, Someones in a good mood! You look like you got a full five hours this time" I tease. "I'm in the mood for your bullshit today harry." She says while shaking her head. God I love when she say my name. "Who do I gotta kill, love?"

» 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 « Cᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴀʟʙᴇʀᴛ [ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: @prince-charminx] "Every decision we make has a consequence, every path we take leads us to new experiences, new people and new adventures. That's why we met, right? But it still doesn't mean that we weren't destined to find each other. I think we were, and we would have found each other even if you had chosen differently." Mᴀʀ. 2022

[completed] Harry and Louis are best friends and roommates. After Harry's messy breakup, Louis offers a very unexpected way to help him cope. What starts as a favor quickly turns into something much more... but how far will they take it before it all changes? classic best friends to friends with benefits to lovers