In a world where Louis Tomlinson's sharp edges keep everyone at bay, and Harry Styles drifts quietly through life weighed down by anxiety, an unexpected connection changes everything. What begins as a tense encounter over a library seat slowly grows into a tender, healing love that helps them both face their deepest fears and darkest grief. Through whispered conversations, stolen kisses, and small acts of kindness, Louis and Harry discover that sometimes the hardest battles are fought together-and that love can be the softest, strongest refuge. The one where Louis Tomlinson is mean to everyone, well everyone but Harry Styles.

Harry grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Exactly, baby. I want our next encounter to be somewhere more... interesting." Louis chuckles, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his expression. "And where, pray tell, do you have in mind?" Harry leans in, his lips brushing against Louis' lips. "How about my bed?" Louis pulls back, feigning shock. "Your bed? Seriously? Isn't that a bit forward, Mr. Styles?" Harry smirks, his fingers tracing light patterns on Louis' thigh. "Oh, I just want to have you all to myself, love." "You're awfully confident, aren't you?" "I have every reason to be, considering you're irresistibly mine." "Yeah. Fuck you, Harry." ◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦.•♫•♬•♬•♫•.◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦.•♫•♬•♬•♫• Problems. Restrictions. Obsession. Anger. Redemption. Taming. Love? Things get messed up, but back to normal. Messed up again....back to normal again? Louis is only eighteen, and he dances and strips for money in an elite gentlemen's club. Sticks to his business and business only. His pureness attracts people. Harry is a domineering, rich man, and he becomes the new owner of the club. And now he really wants to have this boy at any price, because Harry knows that everything can be bought. But Louis doesn't seem to reveal his price. MATURE MATURE MATURE MATURE MATURE *Don't comment on my story saying it's not for me or these themes are not for me. It's marked mature, so you know what to expect.*

Note: this story is NOT MINE, im not the author, it was originaly written and posted in ao3 by: @loverboi Can we talk?" Mike asks. "I actually don't think we have anything to talk about," Will needs to shut this down and he needs to shut it down, now. He stands up, mindlessly rummaging through one of his boxes. Maybe Mike would catch the way too obvious hint that Will would rather do anything, but talk with him. "Okay," Mike slowly shuffles his way into Will's room. Oh, Jesus, no. "Let me rephrase that. We're going to talk, Will." And with that, Mike shuts his door and locks it. Will could feel his eyes going wide, his heartbeat quickening. Okay, so Mike hadn't caught the hint. How the hell does he get out of this?

College was supposed to be a fresh start. The Party is scattered across nearby campuses, close enough to pretend nothing has changed. Will is finally happy or at least trying to be with his new boyfriend, Carlton. Mike tells himself he doesn't care. He tells himself a lot of things. Between shared houses, crowded college parties, and a friend group that never really learned how to separate, they keep falling into familiar patterns: late nights, quiet check-ins, and Mike noticing things he probably shouldn't anymore. Everything Mike thought he understood about himself starts to unravel. Some realizations come too late. Some feelings refuse to stay buried. And some feelings don't fade just because you pretend they have.

Will disappears in the middle of the night, leaving behind a life that has slowly learned how to hurt him quietly. He doesn't run toward answers. He runs toward memory, toward the one place where his body remembers what it felt like to be safe, long before he learned how to stay silent. Mike wasn't supposed to still be there. Not after two years of distance, unfinished conversations, and the kind of closeness that never really fades, only changes shape.

A prestigious university in London, known for its cutthroat academia and political undertones. Both Harry and Louis are esteemed professors in the English department, intellectual giants in their own right, but polar opposites in personality. Harry and Louis have butted heads for years. Their debates are legendary; public lectures where sparks fly, published papers that subtly (or not so subtly) tear each other's theories apart. To the academic world, they are the embodiment of intellectual rivalry. To those who know them personally, it's more than that. For Harry, Louis represents everything wrong with the academic elite: a privileged man who refuses to use his platform for change. For Louis, Harry is reckless, someone who takes risks he can afford because he doesn't fear rejection the way Louis does. But under all the intellectual posturing, there's always been something more.

"Do you think I'm hot then?" Harry continued with this nonsense, following Louis. "Hell no." "But you said I made you hard- so you must've thought I was at the time." He argued. "I never said you made me hard- I simply said I was horny and drunk. Plus I've never thought you were hot." Louis recalled in his defense. "But you just said you would've acted that way if you weren't drunk." Harry noted, ignoring the second thing Louis said. Fuck. Harry'd trapped him. Checkmate. Quickly Louis turned around, "Jesus Christ. What do you want me to say, Harry? That I wanted to sleep with you?" He got out a little louder than he expected. ᯓ⚽︎ Or where Louis is a very angry person and hates basically everyone- especially, Harry Styles. Being angry and deprived of physical touch isn't exactly a good combination, meaning Louis couldn't really help it when he ended up fucking his least favorite person... !toplinson !grumpyxsunshine (grumpy Louis & sunshine Harry) !slightfemharry ✩ Highest rankings: ✩ #1 toplouis #1 hbottom #2 bottomharry #2 feminineharry

It's winter in Hawkins, and Mike and Will aren't speaking anymore. Living in Mike's house, Will tries to be invisible, spending most of his time in the basement. Then the power goes out - and if there's one thing he dreads more than facing Mike, it's the cold. or Seven nights in which Mike and Will have to sleep in the same bed, even though they're barely friends anymore. (this is story is not mine i figured the wattpad readers should get a taste of this work of art. go give kudos to lameparties on ao3!!)

Harry Styles is a quiet literature student who keeps to himself, writing poems he never shares and carrying the weight of a past he never talks about. Louis Tomlinson is the boy next door-literally. They grew up as childhood best friends, inseparable through every milestone, heartbreak, and dream. But one night, five years ago, something happened. A fight. A kiss. A goodbye. Louis left without a word, cutting ties with everyone-including Harry. Now, years later, Louis returns to London after his mother passes away, forced to face the people and places he abandoned. He doesn't expect Harry to still be there. He doesn't expect Harry to look so different-older, colder, a little more broken. And he certainly doesn't expect the feelings to come rushing back, sharper than ever. Harry is angry. He deserved closure. He deserved something. But even through the pain, the love he buried refuses to stay dead. As they slowly reconnect, trying to make peace with their past, they both realize the tragedy isn't that they fell apart-it's that they never got to fall fully in love. And maybe they still won't. Because timing is cruel, and sometimes love isn't enough to fix what's already gone.

The Aimbot was the freshest villain in sight, the perfect assassin: a patient, ruthlessly efficient killer who shows neither emotion nor remorse. It is a shock to Louis, as it is to everyone, when he discovers that The Aimbot is none other than his past lover, Harry Styles, who is presumed dead. What happens when Louis is supposed to stop him and get rid of him?