Harry and louis were co-captains, problem was they couldn't stand each other. They played well together, but only where football was concerned.

"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

❝I bet I can make you feel pain.❞ ❝I'd like to see you try.❞

• 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

He wasn't. He couldn't be. Louis was humping his leg. Maybe he was sleeping, Harry's thoughts spun wildly, having a dirty dream. But Harry knew Louis up and down, the patterns of his breathing, the tension in his muscles - this wasn't sleeping Louis. As if to confirm Harry's thoughts, Louis gripped him slightly and unmistakably ground his hips. A soft moan escaped Harry's lips. Louis stilled. Harry held his breath. No no no please don't stop, God. Louis' hands traveled up his body lightly, the barely there touch making him hiss. "'S this ok?" Louis' voice sounded uncertain, hesitant, like his fingers delicately tracing Harry's spine. Or: A whole lot of cute fluffiness takes a horrifying descent into hardcore godless smut. But it's ok though cuz it's Louis and Harry and they're adorable little cupcakes who love each other very much.

"It's hard letting go. I'm finally at peace but it feels wrong." {Under going editing. It's being rewritten from the beginning, grammatical errors are being fixed. Should be completely edited and polished by December}

Louis' new roommate is shy, skittish, and flinches at the slightest sounds. He's an art major who gets drunk on cherry wine, wears lacy lingerie, and shows up late at night covered in bruises that blossom across his skin like flowers. Obviously something is wrong. Louis just doesn't know what it is.

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