"It's an easy job." He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. "Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic." Louis gazes over to Harry. He's looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he's talking more to himself than Louis. "Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing." That's not how Louis remembers it to be, "You lying?" He honestly can't tell. Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes. "No," He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, "I won't put you in any dangerous situation." His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth. or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

THIS IS NOT MY WORK ‼️ all credits go to Isthatyoularry on AO3📢📢 (I only do that for easier accessibility) SUMMARY : How come falling in love with the person he hated most was so easy? Who the hell did this guy think he was? How could he stand there on the pavement, gorgeous and beautiful, and make Harry fall back into a swirl of desire, when fifteen minutes ago he made his skin prickle with hurt? God, he hated him. He wanted to bash his face into bits. The problem was that more than that, he wanted to kiss him. Between the two options, he would instantaneously choose the second. A mortal enemies with benefits story with a touch of football, lust, and family drama. The Unbelievers Story from Harry's point of view. (Read and vote <3)

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.

*WARNING* Drug use and nonconsensual sex When Harry gets home, after he's dragged his sore body up the stairs, he lays on the tile floor under the scalding hot water in the shower, fully clothed, until it runs freezing cold over him. He tries to cry, to do something to make his body feel normal, but he can't. It's like his soul was torn from his body and left on that floor. He scratches at his skin and scrubs the parts of his body that aren't covered in clothes trying to clean himself of the night. It doesn't work. When he looks at himself in the mirror, his tongue is still blue from the pills, his skin is red, bruised, and cut from his nails, and there's still bright red lipstick stuck to his skin like a tattoo.

Once again, not my fic. I claim no part of this, it was completely written by the AO3 user Velvetoscar. If you want to follow them on tumblr, you can find them at mizzwilde.tumblr.com I take no credit, I only put it on Wattpad for the people who don't have an AO3 account and can't read it. 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.

Louis is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival, moody dance prodigy, Harry, joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late? [COMPLETED]