#whatever you say hazza

[hlficlibrary]

✤ PWP Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ glimpse of the silhouettes by orphan_account {E, 7k}

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

2️⃣ Makes Perfect by checkthemargins {E, 8k}

"What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?" Louis presses. "Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don't know, a pillow or something. Whatever it'd fit around."

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. "It's different, though, innit? When it's a real person. A pillow won't snog me."

"Why should it?" says Louis. "You can't even take its bra off."

3️⃣ take my breath and i am yours by feathered {E, 5k}

Louis has never gotten a hickey. Harry gives him one.

4️⃣ give you my fever by beautlouis {E, 10k}

And he’s wanted it even more since he met Louis, it's driven him insane, he spends 90% of his life turned on because of Louis and he’s had no relief at all. He’ll wake up at night too hot and itchy, with Louis warm and sweet smelling next to him, and unable to do anything but wank unsuccessfully, with no release.  “I can try,” Louis says, close enough that Harry’s eyes cross a little trying to look at him. “I want to, I’ve never been with anybody, like, I’ve snogged people, lots of people, but I’ve never—touched anyone.” He clears his throat. “I’d touch you, Hazza.”

Harry’s breathing picks up. “Yes.” He doesn’t think there was a question but he’s a little overwhelmed. “Yes,” he repeats, dizzy.

 *x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

5️⃣ baby thinking of you keeps me up all night by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 9k}

Louis sputters in response, shaking his head wildly. Harry moves closer, placing his hand on Louis’ chest and trailing it up towards his neck to curve around. “I am younger than you. Bet you like that. Think you can push me around.”

Louis fishmouths, glaring at Harry who reminds him suspiciously of a shark at the moment. He smells blood in the water.

“Is that what this is about, Louis?” Harry asks. He leans in and fits his mouth against Louis’ earlobe, huffing hot breaths into his ear. “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

[harry is a 19 y/o singer and louis is a 29 y/o actor with no love for teenage popstars.]

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Listen to the signs by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 10k}

Louis hates Harry's cliche taste in home decor. When his (sort of) innocent prank gets revealed, Harry shows him why words are so important.

💎 Pretty Miscalculations by @hellolovers13 {E, 5k}

After rudely interrupting Louis’ Christmas shopping, Louis offers Harry a choice and an opportunity to try out his new purchases.

💎 Nothing but Time on His Dirty Hands by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 2k}

Harry enjoys his daydream about Louis Tomlinson.

💎 Stroke of Twelve by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus {E, 2k}

He was close, he was so close, and he knew it was much too soon; the countdown to midnight hadn’t even begun yet.

Or the one where Louis wants Harry to hold off his orgasm so they can come together at the stroke of twelve on New Year's Eve.

💎 beg me silently by @nouies {E, 2k}

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

#ficrec #pwp #hljournal #hlcreators #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dficvillage #nouies #larryhiatus #yesisaworld #nonsensedarling #hellolovers13 #ballsdeepinjesus #beautlouis #feathered #checkthemargins

[tracingpatternswrites]

Trick or treat my love!

Oooooh, trick or treat indeed.

****

“Okay, ready?” James called from the hallway, and Sirius sat himself up a little straighter. 

“Absolutely,” he called back.

It was Halloween at school, and he’d received a frantic call from James through the mirror earlier that day, saying how Sirius had to come over because Harry refused to leave without showing Sirius his costume first. 

“Here we come!” James called, spluttering something that Sirius assumed was meant to be a drumroll as he stepped into the living room, waving encouraging for Harry to follow him. 

Sirius already knew that whatever outfit Harry had chosen, he would be full of praise, but when he saw the six year old standing there he was suddenly at a complete loss for words. He stared, his mouth agape, until James cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Hazza!” Sirius exclaimed, suddenly remembering himself. “Wow!”

“D’you like it?” his godson asked shyly, scuffing his foot against the floor. 

Sirius looked at him, his black hair which had been carefully magicked to look longer, pulled back in the same messy bun that Sirius himself was currently sporting. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his green eyes shone brightly as they looked expectantly at Sirius. 

He took in the black leather jacket, the white tee shirt, the black trousers and even the pair of black motorcycle boots. He saw the hint of a painted tattoo at Harry’s collarbone and peaking out under the sleeves of his shirt.

“I’m you,” the boy said, as if Sirius couldn’t tell, and he threw his head back to bark out a laugh. 

“So you are!” He said, getting up to stride over to Harry, hoisting the boy into the air to make him laugh delightedly. “This is the best Halloween costume I've ever seen!"

Trick or treat!

#sirius black #harry potter #james potter #good godfather sirius black #sirius and harry

[onthewaytosomewhere]

wednesdays are for wips

thank you ever so much @hgejfmw-hgejhsf for the early tag 💕

so apparently finishing i've got you acting like you want more and the second hand unwinds (with its pez/liam blink and you miss it moment) for Hey Sweetheart inspired me to work on that hockey/bookstore wip again so here we go - a bit from that

apparently this bit is long so i guess i'll put it behind a cut

This is the point where Henry has to break in, “You know that you all should really broaden the pool of prospective partners you swim in, right? You have had your thing with Nora and June, and now Liam, apparently one of Alex’s best friends, and, surprise, surprise, also messed around with him. That’s quite the tangled mess.” “Are you saying you wanna jump in our pool, Hazza?” Henry laughs, “My dear Pezza, you and I both realized long ago that was never going to happen between us.” “I wasn’t thinking me, maybe the newly returned brother of your Jane Austen buddy?” “Not sure it would matter even if I did want anything to do with him.” “What’s up with that? Bea mentioned you got all weird on him before he left.” The sigh that leaves Henry’s body feels as if it cut whatever string was holding him up, and he’s glad to have made it up the stairs to his apartment above the shop. “Of course she did. The two of you gossip worse than a bunch of old church biddies. It’s not important. He just said something that struck a nerve, and I got tetchy and didn’t react well. Henry hears Liam talking as he assumes he just arrived at Pez’s - it’s a bit muffled until he presumably enters the same room, and he hears, “Honey, did ya hear that Alex was in Henry’s bookstore today? Nora texted me on my way over here.” Pez’s laugh is loud over the line, and Henry pulls the phone away from his ear, switching it to speaker. “Apparently, all of you are a bunch of gossiping church biddies.” Henry huffs and hears Liam's laugh join Pez’s. “Henry, how are ya? For the record, having been raised in the south, I come by the gossiping church biddy thing naturally.”

and now 🎵it's time for a breakdown🎵 lol - or - it's time for some no-pressure tagging @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @magicandarchery @priincebutt @suseagull04 @typicalopposite

can't wait what wonderful stuff you're all up to ❤️

#wip wednesday #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb wip #hockey and books #hockey!Alex #books!Henry #oh and apparently some pez/liam reference today

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Tech-Based Fun Recs

Texting, Online Dating, Instagram, Wrong Number, etc. Click below for my favorites!

Toe the Line by @orchidscript. G, 1k. Henry plays piano while Alex studies. Alex gets caught live-streaming. Henry has a response handy.

call it what you want by vibrantsaturn. T, 1.9k. Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd

guys it's 3am and i just found henry crying to taylor swift in the kitchen in the refrigerator light i love this motherfucker so much

Prince Henry @PrinceHenryUK

She makes me feel things.

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd

BABY SHE MAKES ALL OF US FEEL THINGS

william @alltoounwell

THERE'S NO WAY HE JUST CALLED PRINCE HENRY MOTHERFUCKER LMAO

or,

Alex live tweeting his favourite FirstPrince moments. That's it. That's the fic.

watch before it ends by @indomitable-love. G, 2.4k. He should be working on this essay so he can spend more time with Henry this weekend. He really, really should be working on this essay. But.

But.

Henry is going live on Instagram.

spread (me on your) sheets by @everwitch-magiks. E, 2.6k. Alex creates a sex quiz to determine how well people’s bedroom preferences align with his own. After a night of too much tequila, he sends it to a lot of people.

One blond, blue-eyed respondent scores a hundred. - Also, companion fic Alex Claremont-Diaz’s Comprehensive Coitus Questionnaire by stutteringpeach (M, 2.6k). 

come pick me up by @smc-27. T, 3k. ‘I’m here for you’

He can tell that the person will receive that as a text message as well as in the app, which is a relief because sometimes people like, order rides then absolutely pay no fucking attention to the app. It’s really annoying to have to wait forever for folks.

’Thank you. I’m going through a difficult time currently, so this means a lot.’

Alex stares at the message he received, frowning, and then another comes through.

‘Apologies. I’ve lost all my contacts. Who is this?’

Oh, Christ. This is going to be awkward as fuck.

’This is your Uber driver. I’m outside.’

OR, Alex is an Uber driver. Henry needs a ride the airport.

freddie by @coffeecatsme. T, 3.3k. “Didn’t know BuzzFeed was still relevant enough to do interviews.” He watches a grin spread on Henry’s face, and the glint in his eyes is enough to tell Alex that whatever it is, it’ll at least be fun. “What?” he asks, tugging Henry’s hands. “What is it?”

“They just might be relevant enough for this.” Henry’s palms close around Alex’s cheeks, brushing his curls away. “They asked whether we’d be interested in doing a puppy interview.”

Something To Be Proud Of by @cha-melodius. M, 3.3k. Henry stares at the carbon copy of the email in his inbox and wills time to go backwards. Just a few minutes, that’s all he needs. Enough time to go back and keep autocorrect from transforming whatever he’d typed after ‘he’ in his pronouns after his name into… that.

(Or, an unfortunate typo in an email, lots of dick jokes, and the joy of finding yourself at Pride.)

well we're not here to fuck ducks by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 3.7k. Henry is looking for someone to help him with his duck study. He makes quite a serious typo in his 'All Staff' email.

Three times is a pattern by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 4.8k. “Hi,” an amused voice says on the other end of the line. “You’re through to Alex at L&G. Can I start by taking your name please?”

“Henry,” he admits, although the lure of a false name is calling to him like a siren song. “I’m – look, how long were you on the line just now?”

There’s a pause before the man answers. “I’m legally obligated to advise you that these calls are recorded for training and monitoring purposes. Is that enough of an answer?”

Henry just about manages not to swear. “Thank you. Unfortunately that is very clear.”

“Great. How can I help you today, Henry?”

He wonders if they offer euthanasia.

One Number Away by smc_27. T, 4.9k. “Hello?” a confused sounding voice on the other end of the line says.

It is not Pez. Pez doesn’t answer like that. With the fanfare of “my dearest Hazza” or “my sweet prince” or “you absolutely unforgivable scoundrel.” Only the first of these has any root in truth or accuracy.

Also, Pez is not American.

“I’m sorry. You’re not…Not Pez. Right. I’m sorry.”

OR: Henry dials a wrong number. Alex answers.

if evil, why so cute? by everwitch. E, 5.4k. Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat.

Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Are You Screwing With Me? by @rmd-writes. E, 6.5k. Alex is only downloading Grindr because he’s curious. It doesn’t fucking mean anything, right? And when he answers a call for help from a very hot neighbour – who has no business having a shoulder-to-waist ratio like that – he’s just being friendly. It definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to discover things about himself that he’d assumed were just passing curiosity.

Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

(Door)Dash to the Heart by bleedingballroomfloor. M, 8.1k. The man looks up when Henry opens the door. "Henry?"

Henry clears his throat. "That's me," he manages.

"Cool," the man says. "You're making me hungry for breakfast with this order, man. Which is bad for me, because my breakfast is usually just coffee, and there's no way I can drink that this late."

"Uh," Henry says. He's pretty sure dashers don't talk this much during orders.

"Anyway," the man says, handing the bag of food to Henry, "enjoy your night."

Five times Henry gets late-night food from his insanely hot DoorDasher Alex, and one time they get food together at a normal time.

Bake It Til You Make It by OrchidScript. T, 8.4k. The chaos dead-ended in a linked TikTok video. By the looks of it, just a pasty-faced white dude in a tee shirt with a mug of… something. Why that would be interesting to anyone, Alex didn’t know and didn’t guess. He rolled his eyes and clicked on it anyway.

“Are you serious?” He asked, a second later dissolving into laughter. The video froze, a small banner appearing over a stagnant image reading 'Man Pleasing Appetizers 1971'.

Blondie was a Brit, and Alex wasn’t going to lay there and say that didn’t do something for him. He’d come to terms with his bisexuality enough to know that made the stranger hotter — even just the littlest bit. Especially when the video started rolling again

Alex falls down the rabbit hole of an H.J. Fox's Tiktok videos, falling a little bit in love with the terrors and treasures of cooking past he finds there, while recovering from a sinus infection. Back in class and confronted by H.J. Fox -- Henry Fox, to be exact -- in the lecture seat next to him, Alex does what any normal, well-adjusted adult would do: He suggests his recipes, just to watch Henry make them.

Will Alex get to watch his cake and eat it too, or will he get something sweeter than hoped for? 

Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully) by @sparklepocalypse. E, 8.7k. And, well. Fuck that guy. Alex isn’t about to rub elbows with people who can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.

Alex isn’t sulking when he sidles up to the bar and steals a man’s whisky. He also isn’t sulking when he obtains a second glass, this one neat. Or when he snags a large plate of canapés from one of the waitstaff and nonchalantly strolls out of the room.

(Movieverse; a riff on the trope that asks, What if Cakegate didn't happen?)

The importance of the 'recall email' feature by clottedcreamfudge. E, 9.6k. "What did that email even say?" Bea interrupts him again, and he glares at her.

"He was asking for an extension."

"Scandalous," she says drily, and he rolls his eyes, stealing the umbrella from her mocktail and wondering whether or not he could use it to end his misery.

"He... addressed me in a fairly comical way. It was quite rude, but apparently unintentional. We've all been there."

Pez nods solemnly. "I once called my tutor 'Carrie' when in fact her name was 'Carey'. Incredibly embarrassing. I couldn't look her in the eye for a week."

"Er, yes," Henry says haltingly. "Yes, just like that." 

whenever you're ready by @tedddylupin. E, 12k. “Pez. Please, will you stop tagging me in TikTok thirst traps?” Henry asked as he stepped into his friend’s car.

Pez lowered his Gucci sunglasses on his nose, looking at Henry without anything obscuring his vision and just laughed before pushing them back up with his middle finger. “Don’t fucking lie to me, I know you love them.”

Or: the one where Henry falls in lust with a TikToker making pottery and leaves drunken thirst comments

once, successfully by vibrantsaturn. M, 12k. Grindr, once (un)successfully, etc., etc.

misdial by rizcriz. T, 13k. His phone starts ringing as he’s wringing the coffee out of his shirt in the tiny coffee shop bathroom. He groans, sliding his finger over the answer button as he pulls his shirt up. “June,” he says, as politely and patiently as he can muster, “Now’s really not a great time.”

A distinctly male voice that does not belong to his sister, says, “Er.” He drops his chin and looks down at the counter, where a blond haired beauty is staring up at him from a facetime call. In the top corner, Alex can see what the man sees; himself, partially shirtless, standing over the phone, his abs dripping with coffee.

Alex has no idea who the fuck this man is.

Or, the facetime call that changed Alex's life.

Everyone Knows Who You Are by smc_27. T, 26k. Look, it’s not that he doesn’t feel influencers deserve representation or have complex management needs. It’s just any time he’s met with an influencer, he’s not only had next to nothing in common with them, but he’s also got no bloody clue what they’re talking about half the time. It’s a world far away from the one he typically resides in. He deals with authors and musicians and the occasional up and coming tennis player or gymnast or swimmer. His niche.

He walks into Conference Room B and sees Alex Claremont-Diaz sitting there in a smart black button down shirt, unbuttoned just enough to be devastating but not inappropriate. Henry’s boss is there, too.

When Alex sees Henry, he smiles, but also gives a discreet look up and down. Oh, god. No.

We’ll Invite Something In by smc_27. E, 26k. Alex is grinning a little too hard.

This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.

The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Ignite My Heart by @absoluteaudacitywrites. M, 30k. “So, I’m making you an account and we’re going to swipe right on some men and you can thank me later,” Pez says.

The 'We met on Tinder' AU

RWRB YouTube Interviews series by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 31k. Hot Ones, etc

Hashtag Soulmates by everwitch. E, 44k. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[charmsandtealeaves]

(for the sweet ask game thing)

~*~

"Lils! Hey, Lily, come here and see this. Quickly."

Lily dries her hands on the dishrag hanging on the stove handle. The dishes are almost done, but they'll keep. Whatever James is doing, it sound important.

She walks through their house until she finds her boys sitting in the sunroom. The windows are open, letting the sunshine and warm air that is so foreign to early October in the room.

James sits on the floor, legs spread wide like a frame around the mess of ingriedients in front of them. Harry is standing--or, well, squatting really, as he drops sticks and leaves they must have collected outside into the old cauldron on the floor.

Lily smiles. "What is this? Are you cooking?"

"No! Poshun!" Harry cries loudly, picking up a large sppon and stirring. "Look! Poshun!"

"Yeah, mum, we're making potions." James smiles up at her, and there's a smudge of dirt on his cheek that looks vaguely like a child's handprint and a twig in his hair. He looks inordinately proud, though. "Like mummy. Hazza wanted to make potions like mummy."

Lily presses her lips together, smiling at her husband and trying to somehow contain the overflow of love that's pouring out of her now. "Is that so?"

"Right, Hazza?" James tickles Harry's tummy. "Like mummy?"

"Mum mum. Mum mum," Harry babbles as he adds another few rocks to the cauldron.

"Do you want to stay and play with us?" James asks.

"Poshun," Harry says.

"That's right, Haz. Not play. Make potions. Would you like to stay and make potions with us?"

Lily takes a seat on the floor, grabbing the twig out of James's hair to offer to Harry. "I would like to, very much. What are we making?"

She has dishes to finish, and she will. They'll keep; poshun making won't.

This was utterly adorable!

Here’s the ask thing for anyone interested.

#so so sweet #poshuns

[alwaysxlarrie]

last sub harry fic fest snippet + find the word challenge

in honor of no longer being shadowbanned & last sunday’s snippet post being virtually invisible, here’s another (&the last) snippet from my @subharryficfest !! + thank you to @zanniscaramouche for tagging me to do the find the word challenge! 

snippet:

“Haz, you packed water, right? I need some ice cold water yesterday.” Niall panted out after he’d stumbled over to where Harry was sitting on the grass.

Harry considered saying he forgot it at home to mess with him, but took one glance at Niall’s red and sweaty face, and decided to take pity on him. “Yeah Ni, do you want regular or flavored water?”

“Just give me some regular fuckin’ water, you hippie.”

Harry pouted but obeyed, grabbing a regular water from his bag. As soon as he noticed Louis jogging towards them, he promptly shoved the bottle into Niall’s hand so he could be ready to fulfill whatever request Louis might’ve had at a moment's notice.

Once he’d reached them, Louis took one look at Niall’s water bottle before snapping his head towards Harry with the most adorable puppy eyes Harry had ever seen. “Can I have a water please, Hazza?”

“Yeah, of course! D’ya want some snacks too? I brought a couple of things from home.” Harry asked eagerly, his heart rate speeding up as hope started building inside of him that Louis might say yes.

“I guess it depends on what you’ve got, Harold.” Louis shrugged. Before Harry could feel brushed off by his apparent indifference though, Louis winked at him and Harry immediately felt his cheeks burn with a prominent blush from being teased.

“Welll.” Harry dragged out with a smile as he began sifting through his bag that was packed full of waters, snacks, and a camera. “I’ve got apple slices, watermelon slices, regular water, flavored water, grapes, and honeydew melon slices! You can have anything you want.”

Looking up to see Louis’ reaction, Harry was thrilled to see the surprise on his face; his eyes were wide, jaw was hanging, and eyebrows raised. His expression was the definition of impressed, to say the least. The feeling of satisfaction burned through Harry’s blood; the feeling of accomplishment coursed through his veins.

“Oh wow, I mean, yeah. Anything would be great, man. You’ve got all of my favorite fruits here, actually.” Louis chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck, confusion and intrigue prominent in his tone, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“He knows, my guy.” Niall rolled his eyes.

--

find the world challenge - my words are feel, sound, neck & home:

feel: “Mmmm, that feels nice.” Harry purred as he leaned into Louis’ hand. So what, who wasn’t a sucker for a good head scratch?

sound: “Yes, I promise.” Harry said earnestly, shooting Louis a sincere and gentle smile.

neck: “Yes?” Harry asked as he nuzzled into the crook of Louis’ neck like a kitten. It was much colder outside now and while Louis typically got cold quickly, the crook of his neck seemed to hog all the warmth in his body. Harry loved it.

home: ““Alright,” Louis nodded and raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed, “well, as someone who’s never tasted a home cooked meal by Harry, I’m expecting nothing less than perfection.”

i’ll tag the people who i tagged last time & some others too: @crinkle-eyed-boo, @2tiedships2, @infinitelymint @lululawrence @londonfoginacup @neondiamond @disgruntledkittenface, @faithinwalls369, @greenblueish & @harrystinyshorts - if you also wanna do the word challenge, your words are ‘lovely’, ‘changing’, and ‘doubt’. :)

#sunday snippet #sunday snippets #my wtiting #my snippet #my snippets #sub harry fic fest #find the word tag #find the word game #tags and challenges

[mercurial-madhouse]

Hi love! I was wondering out of all fics you've written which one is your favourite and why?

Love your fics btw! I feel like I really connect with your fics in a sense that the characters feel so real. This is also something I thought of while reading your fics, what are some of your favourite headcannons of Harry and Louis. They are very well-written characters in your fics. Love them!

Hello, darling! Oof! Coming at me with the most impossible question! How can I possibly choose my favorite fic!?

I suppose I’d have to say it’s Three Days in February. It was my first fic in the fandom, I’d written it after only really knowing anything about the boys for about six months. Not only that, but I wrote the whole fic in about 1.5 months, it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written, and, surprisingly, the first long fic I ever finished. So there were a lot of firsts in it for me! I spent most of the time I was writing it laughing fit to burst because the lads are hysterical in it. I wish I could say that I’m that funny, but I was just writing what they were telling me. I’m thrilled that you think the characters are so real too. I pride myself on characterizations and making them feel like the boys we ‘know’ even if they’re in a wildly crazy AU (which TDIF kind of is!).

As for my favorite headcannons, I’m honestly not sure I can answer that one! The one thing that immediately comes to mind is that in my fic writing world, Harry always calls Louis ‘Lou’. And he’s the only one who does it. He never calls him ‘Tommo’ or ‘Louis’ the way the others will. Even if they start out as strangers, it just… happens. So that’s my biggest headcannon: what Harry calls Louis. There’s something so endearing about it, more so than if he were to call him ‘darling’ or ‘sweetie’ or anything like that. And it goes the other way too. Louis will call Harry ‘Hazza’, but the others will say ‘Haz’. Only Louis uses the full ‘Hazza’.

It’s the super small things that really get to me. I honestly think that’s probably where I base their entire relationship from, in whatever fic/AU I’m writing. I guess it comes across, because you find them well-written! What a compliment! Thank you so very much!

Have a happy!Gif as a thank you, sweet Anony!

#ask response #anonymous #my fiction #fic chat #three days in February #larry fic #thank you sweet anony!

[beyondxmeasure]

Going into 2022 like…

#is it??? #is it though? #whatever you say hazza #happy new year 🥂💞 #hoping for the best #faith in the future #harry styles #is it really?

[agape-28]

Harry giving Louis a piggyback ride ✨

I wrote this for my friends @anxiouslarrie and @keinessish, because I like to torture them <3 ;)

❤️🌙

Harry doesn’t know how he ended up here.

He and Louis were drinking with a couple of their friends in the VIP section of a club. Their fingers stayed interlocked for the duration of the night, and they sent small smiles at one another that still caused butterflies in their tummies. Harry would’ve been fine if that’s all they did, but then one of their friends decided to challenge Louis to a drinking contest. And Louis, that stubborn bastard, couldn’t back down. He’d won, of course but as always, actions had consequences. Louis was left drunk out of his fucking mind, and basically incapable of handling himself in a proper decorum.

“Honey, come on, it’s time to go,” Harry prodded, looking around him.

“Hrnghrnghrngh,” Louis replied eloquently, throwing an arm over his flushed face. It was cute, he would admit, but everything about Louis is cute to Harry. Right now, though, it was seriously distracting.

“Lou, please. I called for someone to take us home. Come on.” Harry pulled on his boyfriend’s arm, but the older man only groaned and turned away, rolling over so that he was face-down on the couch. “Oh for God’s sake, Louis!” Harry said irritably.

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled into the velvet fabric.

Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “We have to.”

“No!”

“No?!” When Louis didn’t reply further, Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, what can I do so that you’ll come with me.”

There’s silence. And then,

“Carry me.”

“What?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

Louis sat up, and dangled his arms in the air. It was a little hard to take him seriously, given how pink his face was, and how there was a kissable pout on his pink lips. “Carry me,” he said sincerely, giving his limbs another shake. He was wearing a larger sweater, so he had sweater paws which also trembled as he moved his entire body.

Harry looked from side to side, then scratched the back of his neck. “Louis, I’m not—“

“Carry me!!”

So, Harry supposes, that’s how he ended up here. Walking down the dim streets only lit by amber lampposts, giving his very drunk boyfriend a piggyback ride.

He sighs. Curse his complete and utter devotion to the love of his fucking life.

Louis, meanwhile, is very much not cooperating in this situation. He keeps squirming and wiggling on Harry’s back, making it harder for the younger man to hold him properly. As much as he loves holding Louis’ arse, it’s not very efficient in this situation. Louis is also fidgeting his arms a lot. Sometimes he locks them around Harry’s throat and giving it an unwarranted tight squeeze. Sometimes he lets go, but then he plays his hands on Harry’s shoulders like they’re fucking bongo drums. And don’t even get Harry started on when Louis decides he wants to lean back and look at the stars or whatever, nearly throwing them both off balance and making them almost fall onto the ground.

Can Harry, like, get a refund on his very bossy boyfriend?

“Psst, hey, H. Hazza. Harold.” Louis taps Harry’s cheek with his index finger, before circling his face, trying to find his dimples. “Hey. Hey. Hey.”

Harry purses his lips in annoyance. That’s another thing, too. Louis’ a very rambly drunk. Sometimes he says things that are incoherent and are not even grammatically correct (“Stars are fucking assholes.“) Other times he says things that are literally incoherent, as in Harry can’t even understand what he’s saying (“Mshfshmhafmfh.” “Louis, what?”)

“Hey. Hey. Hey! Sun!” Louis whines, and honest-to-God, it sounds like he’s about to cry just because Harry’s not indulging him right this very second.

“Yeah, love?” Harry asks, suppressing another sigh from falling from his lips. He wonders what Louis’ going to tell him. Probably that the moon hates them or something.

He feels Louis giggle, small puffs of air blowing onto his neck. “I — I have a secret to tell you,” he whispers, like he’s saying something naughty. Louis kicks his legs out and continues to laugh. It’s not a laughing matter for Harry, though, who has to unfortunately stop walking and adjust his grip on Louis’ thighs once more.

“Seriously, Lou, stop doing that,” he chastises.

“Sorry, but I do have a secret to tell you,” Louis insists.

“Oh yeah?” Harry hums. “What is it?”

Louis looks around, before snickering again. Then he leans in close to the side of Harry’s face, his lips brushing Harry’s ear. The warm breaths that spill out of his mouth send an involuntary shiver done Harry’s spine.

“Harry Edward Styles.”

“Mhm?”

“You are the love of my life.”

“…. Wha—?” Before Harry can get in a word edgewise, Louis plows on.

“I love you. Psst, don’t tell anyone, but I get butterflies in my tummy. I want to spend every moment ever kissing you. Why do you have such kissable lips anyway? Ugh. Not important. I love you, did I say that? When you smile, I want to cherish it forever, especially your stupid fucking dimples. I love you so much, did you know everything gets brighter when you’re around Your face is fucking PERFECT, ugh. The stars and moon are jerks and fucking losers because they definitely don’t look as beautiful as you and they’re jealous because of that. I just — I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Louis takes in a deep breath here, as he’d done nothing but speak without even taking a moment to pause. Then, he adds quietly, “I’m just very happy that my forever is with... you...” His voice tinged with so much childlike wonder and awe, like it’s truly the most baffling thing in his life.

Meanwhile, Harry’s listened to his speech with tears beginning to form in his eyes. Fuck, Louis can get so fucking sappy sometimes. Harry’s sure the deep blush on his face rivals to the drunk flush over Louis’.

“Yeah?” he croaks out, feeling like he can’t say more without his voice breaking.

He feels Louis nod firmly against his back. “I love you, very much,” he says, with such heartbreaking sincerity it makes Harry even more choked up. “Did I say that to you already?”

“You did, honey,” he laughs wetly. “And I love you very much, too.”

And, you know what? Harry takes it all back. Even when Louis acts like this, even when Louis acts like the most irritating person on earth and Harry wants to scream — he’d never trade anything for this. Louis is the best thing in his life, the love of his life, and it will remain that way forever.

…

“I LOVE YOU!” Louis shrieks directly into his eardrums.

Harry screams, startled by the noise, and they both tumble onto the pavement.

#my writing #cute #larry stylinson #i'm so cringe #hlcreators #hljournal #yourlarrysource

[mixedmetalroserings]

We Know You By Now (Harry Styles x fem!MC)

Summary: After an interviewer makes some gross comments about Harry’s relationship, he has a conversation with his girlfriend about the public’s perception of him. 

Content: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Swearing and objectifying comments

Word Count: 1079

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I heard the dressing room door slam open, and I immediately turned to see the guys coming back from their interview.

“Hey guys, how did it - Haz?” I cut myself off, noticing Harry staring at the floor, the rest of the band standing around him, unsure of what to do. Zayn was the one to finally break the silence after he didn’t reply.

“We tried to talk to him, but…” He trailed off, and I nodded.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” I asked. They all agreed, taking their leave from the room as I guided Harry to sit down on one of the dressing room couches.

“Baby, can you look at me, please?” I gently prompted, my thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of his hand. When he finally met my gaze, I could see tears brimming his eyes. I just shook my head. “What happened out there, Haz?”

He drew in a shaky breath, his voice trembling as he finally spoke.

“I’m not just using you for your body. You know that, right?”

“Harry of course I know that; where is this coming from?”

“I really do love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I could tell he was trying to force back tears, and I pulled him into a hug, gently running my hands along his back.

“Hey, I love you too, baby. And I’m not going anywhere. I’d be lost without you.”

He broke at that, crying openly into my shoulder. The sound made my heart shatter, and I continued my soothing motions, whispering softly in his ear.

“Let it out baby. You’re ok, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“They -” He tried to speak, to explain, but he couldn’t manage to get anything out. I just shushed him, holding him as he continued to cry.

It was only when his sobs turned to soft sniffles did he break from the hug, trying desperately to catch his breath. I cupped his face with my hands, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. He was avoiding my eyes, staring at his own hands as he leaned into the feeling of mine. Finally, I spoke.

“Harry, are you ok?”

He hesitated before shaking his head slightly, collapsing back into my arms. I held him close, laying back on the couch so that he could cuddle on top of me, head resting against my chest as I toyed with his curls.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked after a moment. He considered for a second before he took in another deep breath.

“I’ll be fine. Just… the interviewer was making a lot of comments. About me and you. And I feel like I should be used to it by now, but it really stung.”

“What were they saying to you?” Just hearing him talk about it made me want to punch someone, especially when he held me closer, trying to protect us both from the world outside this dressing room.

“She - she asked me how our relationship was going. And I said that it was going really well, and that we were both very happy, and she followed up with ‘so you really love her?’” He paused again, drawing in another shaky breath before continuing, “And I said yes, of course. And she just laughed a little and said something like ‘her and her ass, right?’ So I immediately said that yes, you’re beautiful, but I love you for who you are, not just for your body, and she just kinda scoffed and rolled her eyes. And she just said -” He cut himself off again, and I watched him reach up to wipe his eyes as he finished his recap, “ - she said ‘oh Harry, we know you by now. But whatever you say.’ I think it was Liam that blessedly changed the subject after that, but honestly, I couldn’t really focus for the rest of the interview. I was just… I don’t know. I just needed to talk to you. Before you saw that.”

“Hazza…” I trailed off, not even sure how to respond. I ran my hands through his soft curls, hearing him sniffle as I tried to collect my thoughts.

I was incredibly disgusted, but for the most part I just felt sad. Sad that this image that was unwillingly pushed on him from such a young age was following him around like this, that he’s had to deal with this shit his entire career.

“I just don’t understand,” He murmured, head still tucked against my chest.

“I know, baby. And I’m so sorry that you have to deal with all of this. But it’s not -”

“No,” He cut me off, and I looked down at him, surprised. “I don’t understand… why are you still here?”

“Oh my god, Harry,” I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tighter, prompting him to look up at me with watery eyes. I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, watching his eyes flutter shut at the gentle affection. When I pulled away, he didn’t break eye contact with me.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t have to deal with all the rumors, the attacks; you don’t deserve that.”

“Neither do you, Haz. You don’t deserve any of this, and it breaks my heart to hear the disgusting things that people are saying to you. I’m so sorry that you have to put up with all this bullshit, but I’m not sorry that I’m here. I love you more than anything in the whole world, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to be scared away by a bunch of assholes who have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about, making judgements about people that they hardly know. You are the most kind, respectful, incredible man I have ever known, and that fact doesn’t change because of some bullshit image thrust upon you when you were a teenager.”

He was silent for a moment, taking in what I said before he leaned up and kissed me again.

“God, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve all the love in the world, Harry Styles. I mean it.”

“My love, you’re all that I need.”

I felt him cuddle back up against me when he said it, and I resumed running my hands through his hair, one hand on his back, holding him close.

“I love you so much, Haz.”

“I love you too. Thank you, for being here.”

“I always will.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles hurt/comfort #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x fem!mc #fanfiction #fanfic #hurt/comfort #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction hurt/comfort #one direction headcanon #one direction au #harry styles headcanon #harry styles au

[thewales]

I gotta say that I’ve been a bit embarrassed for the royal reporters this week, some of them who works for the media outlets that the sux specifically said they would no longer engage with have been going on about invictus and whatever Hazza was going to do. Feels a bit desperate even though I know they got a job to do. And yet I’ve seen nothing or very little about the actual athletes, it’s been more about who’s coming and security and wah wah.

Also, good on QEII to reinforce the sux’s view that she’s just a granny controlled by the courtiers, if what Dickie Palmer tweeted is true. Up there with being seen riding with Andy a day after one of his scandals.

The only thing the Sussex press is interested in is drama. All these days you will only read what they said, what they did and what meghan wore. Besides the thousand and one stories of the visit to the UK nothing. More. That's the only interest they arouse. And it's funny how they proved again that they NEED the connection with the queen, with the institution for people to pay attention to them for more than 5 seconds. Having said all that, it is also true that the press, especially the royal press, is only interested in drama.

I don't understand the second part of your message, the fact that they went to visit her doesn't say the opposite? That the queen could see them without anyone intervening? Which would mean that it was her who didn't want to see them in January 2020 and not that her staff didn't allow it.

#anon #ask #the suxs #brf

[harrysgloves]

Fine Line (Chapter 9)

>>>Catch up with the Fine Line Masterlist!

word count: 

story summary: Since you were kids you and Harry had always walked that fine line of friends or something more. Now, pregnant by someone else, you find yourself staying with your long time best friend after things go sour with your boyfriend of 3 years.

Singlemom!Reader x Harry Styles

chapter summary: You and Harry revisit an old childhood game.

warnings: Language // cuddling // mutual pining but they're both dumb af // no editing

a/n: Apparently, I do still write... amazing right?? Anyway, posting this from mobile so it might be a bit weird formatting and I couldn't post the word count tonight. Sorry about that guys. Hope you enjoy anyways!

As always, likes and reblogs make my little heart sing and comments make me almost faint. So, gimme that love.

>>><<<

You settled into Harry's couch for yet another night alone. The light from Judd Nelson's match he had managed to ignite with the back of his teeth lit up the television. The 

luminescent bulbs dimly casted tints of blue and white lights across Harry's living room. Your eyes glued to the movie you'd seen a million times before as you curled in tighter into the soft blankets. 

Harry had been busy the last few days and while you tried your best to not bitch about it, you were lonely. Gemma and Abby had their own lives thousands of miles away from you. Jesse had still not answered you back. Your mother couldn't carry on a conversation with you for more than 10 minutes without forgetting who you were. Besides work, you really had no one to hangout with and even your coworkers didn't see you outside the office. 

The only glimmer of a social life you had was your unborn child that you talked to constantly and Mr. Stranger-who-hits-on-people-at-the-doctor's-office. Since your child couldn't talk back to you yet, Matt was quickly becoming your life line to a somewhat normal life. 

Your phone dinged for the millionth time that night. Matt's name flashing across the top of the screen had a smile curling on your lips. Your fingers quickly slid to open your message app.

>Can't wait for nights like these, right?

The message read, a picture of Roman passed out asleep on top of Matt's chest glared from your phone screen.

<<He looks comfortable.

You shot back, your lips rolling into your mouth as you waited for the response. There was nothing wrong with some innocent flirting, right?

>He says he highly recommends you trying it.

You could feel your cheeks heat when your eyes scanned his message. You bit the inside of your cheek as you typed back, quickly deleting your first response to write a different one. 

You were so out of practice when it came to flirting. You had no idea how to even do it. Even when you started dating Jesse he was the one who initiated everything. You didn't know he was hitting on you until your dorm mate at the time told you.

<<Sure he does.

>Swear. Cheeky little thing even said he'd share me being his pillow with you if you come to the park with us on Friday.

You let out a chuckle as you read his response, ready to shoot back a more feisty text when the door to Harry's house was thrown open. A very drunk Harry stumbled through the door. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting on the couch. That lopsided smile on his face as he used his dining room table to balance himself.

"Have a good night?" You asked, your phone and conversation with Matt long forgotten as Harry clammed up. His hand ran through his soft waves of brown curls as he let out a long breath.

"Weren’t supposed to drink but Mitch brought out the bottle and-" 

"Hazza, it's fine. I'm glad you had a good night. You've been busy lately. You probably needed it." You quickly cut him off, not wanting him to feel bad for having a life outside of you.

After all, you were his guest. He didn't need to run his itinerary through you everyday. He had his own things and you had yours.

"Missed yeh so much this week. Sorry 've been busy." He sighed as he tried to take a step down the stairs. His hand quickly pressed to the wall to balance himself.

"You need to go to bed." You mumbled as you stood up from your warm spot on the couch. Your arm instantly under his to help further balance him.

"But I miss yeh and wanna hang out." He whined. His head laid on your shoulder as he pouted.

"We can hangout all day tomorrow, promise." You said when you pushed him lightly back up the stairs. His body clung to yours. His arm around your shoulders.

"But, I wanna hang out now." He huffed like a petulant toddler. His arms stiffened at his side almost made you lose your balance.

"Fine, well hang out now as long as you help me get to your room." You rolled your eyes at him, letting out a huff when he stopped completely in his tracks.

"Promise?"

"Fuck, Haz, yes. Just get walking before I fall." You grumbled as you pulled at his waist. His feet reluctantly slid against the hardwood floors.

"Yeh can't fall right now yeh pregnant."

"I know." You sighed as you pulled him a bit more. Your doctor would have your ass if she knew you were putting this much strain on yourself. His weight was every bit of 5 times the amount you were supposed to lift or carry but it wasn't like he could make it to bed by himself. "Which is why I need you to help me here."

His feet left the ground in much better steps than he had taken before. The words you had spoken seemed to sober him up a bit as you finally pushed the door to his room open. His tall lanky body hit the bed in a second. You sighed as the pressure from your shoulders finally let up.

"Night Haz." You said with your hand on the doorknob, foot halfway out the door when he perked back up enough to turn on his bed to look at you.

"Yeh promised, so get back 'ere." He patted the bed a few times. A signal for you to join him.

"Uh, maybe tomorrow. We shouldn't-" your words were quickly cut off by his hand around your wrist as he brought you closer to the bed.

"Yeh promised, bunny." He smiled up to you that adorable dimple popped out as you nodded your head. 

Well, you did promise.

Your knees hit the plush pillow top. Your body sunk in slightly as you moved across the bed to the top. Your arms around the pillow that smelled of Harry's shampoo and cologne.

That adorable grin never left Harry's face as he watched you crawl into his bed. A shiver ran down his spine but he quickly shook that thought away. You were just his friend. Only his friend. 

He reminded himself of that many times as he mimicked your position on the bed. His head on the pillow, face towards you, both your knees touched each other.

"'Member when it'd storm durin' your sleep overs with Gem and yeh always end up curled up in my bed 'cause y'hate storms and Gem sleeps like a log?" He asked as his hands tightened around the pillow. Your head nodded as a smile crept up on your face. 

"Remember you stealing all the covers." You teased as he rolled his eyes at you.

"Won't steal 'em tonight. Promise." His pinky finger shot in the air, yours immediately wrapped around it, without even a second thought.

The street lights outside his window cast soft white lights into his room. Just enough that you could see the outline of his face, the tip of his nose, the long eyelashes against his cheek every time he blinked. You licked your lips as the silence swallowed you both. 

How much longer could you two keep up the act of being friends? You didn't know the answer to that question. Every time you were close like this to him you could feel your resolve washing away. Especially when his lips parted slightly, his steady breathing sounded like a soft lullaby. You swallowed, your eyes darted down to his chest. 

"Wanna do the thing?" He asked, his voice broke your intense stare on his lips and back to his eyes. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the sight of his smirk.

"Seems a bit stupid now." You mumbled as your eyes darted away from him.

How long had you been staring? How long did he notice you staring?

"Well too bad. I wanna do it."

"You're bloody drunk of course you wanna do it." You huffed as you tried to protest against this stupid game you two always played as children. 

"My bed, my rules." He said as the blanket encased both of you. The little amount of light that was being let in from the street lights was completely snuffed out from his duvet. The heavy duty quilt almost made it hard to breath. The air hot and sticky, smelling of whatever alcohol Harry had been drinking that night and his cashmere cologne. Suddenly, you were cursing your 12 year old self for ever coming up with this shit.

"This is dumb, Haz." You sighed.

"'S not dumb. 'S tradition!" His voice raised to a level you hadn't heard before. You could imagine the shocked look on his face, feel it forming on his features through the thick air.

His hand came to rest on the side of your face and yours reluctantly did the same. Your cool fingers touched against his warm skin. The stubble on his jaw tickled the inside of your palm. A sharp breath sucked through his teeth as your fingers traced the curves of his cheek bones. His own hand mimicking the movement, both of you studying each other's face with nothing but touch.

"Ready?" He asked, his voice playful and full of mischief. It almost made you smile, until you remembered how fucking stupid this was.His eyes closed when his hand ran over your lips. Your eyes trained on him for a second to make sure he wouldn’t cheat like he used to when you were kids. Once satisfied with the knowledge he wasn’t going to peek your own eyes slipped close, a long breath exited your lungs as you thought of all the times you did this with him.

It had merely started out as a way for you to touch him without him knowing you wanted to be close to him. Even though he quickly caught on to the fact of why you liked this so much when you were younger, he never protested when you suggested doing it. Of course, now you knew why he didn’t argue with you.

He wanted to be close to you too. 

Your lips formed into a smile as your mouth opened and closed a few times. His fingers lingering over them as they formed words silently. His eyes popped open as he glared at you. The darkness didn’t let you see his expression but your hands could feel his eyebrows pull together. Your lips rolled in your mouth to stop your obnoxious laugh.

“Yeh a brat, know that, love?” He asked a bit irritated but you could feel his facial features softening when you let out another giggle. 

“Couldn’t help it.” You said through your laughs, his cheeks pushed back against your hand that was still pressed there, a smile on his face so big you could feel the dimple there. 

“‘M not a tosser.” He pressed his finger booping the tip of your nose before it dragged down to your cupid’s bow. The tip of his finger lightly traced the outline of your lips. 

“Your turn.” You snapped him out of his silence when your digits went to his plush lips again. The softness of them never failed to surprise you. How did he manage to have such soft lips? 

You could feel your mind slowly slip from how they felt against your fingers to how they’d feel against your own. Imagining what it’d be like to have them on you again after all this time. Wondering if they’d still send that electric shock down your body. Wondering if he still tasted the same, like home. 

You were rudely pulled out of your daydreams when you felt his lips curl and twist. Your mind searched through your vocabulary of his top phrases he always said to you. Your lips pouted, eyebrows furrowed as he silently mouthed the phrase again. The skin of your fingers took in all the information down your arm directly to your mind. A smile you knew he could feel came across your lips. 

“Love you too, Haz.” Your eyes fluttered open right as his hand left your face and went around your waist. Clearly done with visiting your old time game when he threw the blanket from over the top of your heads. The sweet crisp air being sucked into your lungs in deep breaths. 

“Wasn’t so bad.” He said as you nodded your head in agreement, a shrug from your shoulders had him rolling his eyes as he pulled you into his chest. Your head against his pillow when his hand ran small circles over your lower back, the bottom of your shirt bunched up by his hands so he could touch your skin. A sigh of relief left you at the touch you didn’t know you needed, your face buried deep into him. Your own free hand wandered under his shirt. Your skin touching against the smooth planes of his stomach up to his chest. Contentment washed over you as your body relaxed into him. Eyes closing from how good it felt to be close again. 

The soft call of sleep beckoned you to its depth. Your breath slowed as your legs entangled with his. Gently slipping into a deep sleep. Arguably, the best sleep you’d had in years. 

>>>

Harry woke up the next morning with a pounding in his head. A groan left his lips as the sunlight that danced in through his windows blinded him momentarily. His sleep filled eyes blinked at the intrusion. Hand against his face, swearing to himself he’d never ever let Mitch talk him into another night of drinking. The echoes of his friend's voice rang through his head. Promises of a light night was total bullshit. His body ached as he tried to get into a different, more comfortable, position. His arm refused to move as something heavy laid on top of it. His eyes fully snapped open to see you laid out beside him. 

A smile creeping across his mouth as he looked at you. Your soft pouty lips pushed out as you took in deep calming breaths. The sunlight touched the peaks of your hips and breast. Glowing light radiating off your silky bare thighs. He chuckled lowly, knowing your sleep pants had been abandoned some time during the middle of the night. He guessed some things never change.

His fingers ran down your arm, up the shoulder of your sleeve. He just wanted to touch you, feel your skin under his own. He couldn’t help it. He felt like a man being possessed. His own body moving to its own accord. Inching its way in to hold you like he did almost 8 years ago. 

His arm was around you, face inches away from your own. He could see your eyes fluttering back and forth behind your eyelids. Small whimpers came from you as you dreamed. 

Were you dreaming about him?

He sighed, head pressed harder into the pillow. He could have laid here watching you all day. The way your breathing made your chest rise, the way you unknowingly wiggled closer to him when his arm rested over top of you, the way the golden sunlight made you look like a fucking angel in his arms. 

Golden, golden, golden

As I open my eyes

Words formed in his mind as he memorized every inch of your skin. Every valley of your body, every high rise of your curves. His sight eventually landed on your stomach. A small bump was there, not a huge one, definitely one he wouldn't have noticed if he didn't have every part of your body mastered like the back of his hand. He supposed it made sense you'd start showing by now. All the research he'd done late at night said 12 weeks was usually the normal time frame. 

His hand slowly moved above your bump. Hovering there for what felt like hours. He would never admit it to you but he was scared, petrified, this child would somehow drive a wedge between you two. 

Chase you farther away from him when it felt like he'd just gotten you back.

It wasn't that you two weren't close when you didn't live with him, you two definitely were, but with Jesse and others around he never had you to himself. That was all he wanted, your attention. He suddenly felt like a 7 year old begging you for a moment of your time while you mindlessly played barbies for hours with his sister. 

How fucking pathetic, he thought. Was he really going to be jealous of your child having your time? Or was he just jealous that it wasn't also his child?

He knew the answer as soon as his hand hit your stomach. He inhaled a sharp breath in through his teeth. His heart melted as he thought of that little baby that jumped around on the ultrasound machine. A sense of protectiveness he'd never felt before flooded his brain.

He slid gently down the bed. He held his breath as he lifted your shirt. His eyes darted up to make sure he didn't disturb you from your sleep. 

"Good mornin' baby." He mumbled to your stomach, his large hands completely encased the bump.

"Yeh don't know it yet but yeh momma is my best friend so I guess that makes us best friends too." He said lowly, his callused hands moving softly against your skin made you hum in your sleep. Your body shifted slightly to get more comfortable on your back. 

Harry raised to rest on his elbows. His hands still on your stomach muttering soft sweet words to your baby. 

"Gonna teach yeh all kinds 'f things." 

"Gonna 'ave to let yeh listen to my music 'cause yeh mom has some bad taste."

"Gonna 'ave to teach y'football too, 'cause yeh mom's got two left feet."

"Definitely gonna 'ave to teach yeh maths she's really bad at that one. Pretty sure I did all her work fo' her. Got no idea how she passed when I left."

"You know I can hear you, right?" You asked after being insulted for what seemed like an eternity. Your head popping off the pillow to glare at your friend trash talking you to your baby.

"Oi, this is a private conversation." He said with a smirk on his face as his head shot up to you. His eyes sparkling with a glint of humor as you shook your head at him. He let out a sigh as he fell back to the bed. His chin rested on the covers as your hand ran through his hair. 

He'd stay like this with you for as long as you let him. He'd be happily content to let your fingers run through his hair all day if you wanted to. The soft scratching of your nails on his scalp soothing him as his eyes slipped closed.

Yes, he could stay like this forever.

"Wanna get breakfast?" You asked a bit later, his eyes lazily flicked open only to shut again. His arm flung around your waist, pulling you close to him. His nose nuzzled into your side making you giggle that soft sweet sound he loved more than anything else in this world.

"Wanna cuddle." He mumbled into the exposed part of your skin. Your shirt still lifted over your stomach from him talking to the baby.

"Harry…" You said gently. Your hands in his hair paused their movements.

You cherished these types of mornings with him. Locked them in a special place in your heart but you knew deep down you shouldn't be in situations like this with him. It would only make things more confusing for the both of you. You could already feel yourself inching closer and closer to the edge of recklessness with your heart.

At the end of the day you were still you and he was still the great Harry Styles. 

How could you ever live up to the type of person he'd need in his life?

"Jus' a little while longer, yeah?" He said from below you. Not wanting to admit he knew being wrapped up in bed with you was wrong.

He liked Camille. Loved her, maybe, but she'd never compare to you. The love he had for you burned deep, like a forest fire wild out of control. He tried his best to tame it. Remind it that you had no interest in him anymore but it had a life of it's own at this point. Even through countless rejections and long years of yearning for you without reciprocation.

"Yeah, okay." You said, your hands going back to work running through his hair.

Both of you, unknowingly to the other, wondering the same thought as you laid in each other's embrace.

What would happen if you crossed that line?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #harry #mine #FL #harries #harries writing #harry styles imagine

[skippyv20]

IN ‘HARRY’S’ STATEMENT ON ARCHEWELL

BESIDES THE WORD SALAD SENTENCE STRUCTURE, GRAMMAR AMERICAN NOT BRITISH, THE BIGGEST ‘TELL’ WAS SHE PUT HER NANE FIRST! THEN A DOLL! THEN H HAZ HAZZA WHATEVER NAME SHE IS CALLING HIM NOW AND THEN A PILLOW FETUS. REMEMBER AS 💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🐼🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜HAS ALWAYS SAID, ANYTHING WITH HER NAME FIRST IS HER AND OR HER PR OR BOTH!!! 

PG

Thank you and Harry would never say beer...he would say pint.....💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

#Ask Skippy #submission

[tomthesoftie]

you lied

a/n: this is over 2000 words, so be warned... there are also going to be two different endings to this because i don’t know if i want to make it angst or fluff, teehee... i’ll leave the links at the end of this post :) but without further ado, enjoy the fic, my loves xx (also sorry for not updating for so long, school is a pain in the ass)

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, angsty shit, swearing, mentions of fire arms/weapons

masterlist                     prompt list

You met Tom while you were on your morning jog. Your hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail with bobby pins to hold down stray hairs. You were wearing a white sports bra paired with dark olive leggings. Earbuds were stuffed into your ears, muting the world out. Everything about the morning was normal -- normal streets, normal traffic, normal people -- that is until you jogged into a handsome stranger. 

This handsome stranger was Tom.

That day, he gave you his number and set up a date with you. He complimented your figure, making you flush from embarrassment and admiration. You thought you looked hideous. Sweat was dripping from your forehead, and you were panting for air. Yet when you contradicted his compliment, he would bite back with more compliments.

Tom was the kindest, sweetest person you’ve ever met. He cared deeply for his friends and family. He’d literally risk it all to save his loved ones. 

Something was kept hidden from you, though. Beneath the layers of his pure heart, he was a cold, ruthless yet cunning, man. He was the leader of the strongest mafia in London. Known for his skills, he was the most feared mobster.

To Tom, you were his life, his everything. He’d do anything for you. Ever since you ran into him on your jog, he made it his duty to make sure you were safe. You were his top priority, followed closely by relatives and friends. He didn’t want you to be in any danger, so he never told you about his business, but his plan failed miserably.

-

A bright smile was stretched across your face as you giddily got into your car. You were heading to Tom’s home, more so mansion, to surprise him.

He rarely brought you to his place, always insisting that your place was better. Never had it crossed your mind as suspicious, and to this day, it still doesn’t. Tom wasn’t a materialistic person and boasting about his belongings wasn’t something that he ever considered.

You drove into the driveway of the Holland Manor, admiring the design of the land. The home was gorgeous, as well as the drive to the front of the house. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach when you realized that you were almost before his doors. Only when you did see the doors, a sudden rush of nervousness filled your thoughts. The two of you had been dating for a little over 11 months now, but whenever you thought of or saw Tom, something inside you would snap. He was like a drug to you.

You neatly parked your car by the curb. Taking a few deep breaths, you stepped out of the vehicle and inhaled the fresh scent of the trees. You noticed men in black suits were standing beside the doors. They didn’t shift in their position. 

These guys weren’t here before, were they? You thought.

Shrugging it off, you knocked lightly on the vast doors. No reply was given. You looked around for a doorbell but no where was it to be found. Choosing your last resort, you walked up to the black tuxedo-clad man standing to your right.

“Excuse me, sir?” You asked in a squeak. He grunted. “Is Tom Holland here?” He gave you an arched brow of suspicion. Quickly, you continued, “I’m his girlfriend, Y/N. I wanted to surprise him today,” even behind his black tinted shades could you tell that he was still eyeing you suspiciously, “I have his number and texts as evidence.”

“Let’s see it, then,” the man’s low voice vibrated in your ears.

You pulled out your phone and rushed to open your messages with Tom. Once you were successful, you thrust the screen into the man’s face. He scanned the messages and looked at the phone number. Finally satisfied, he pulled the door open with a harsh tug. Your mouth fell agape. You just needed to tug on the door.

Stepping into the building, you looked around, feeling a sense of familiarity. You noticed that there were more suited men patrolling the space. 

Had something happened to Tom?

You rushed up the grand staircase to Tom’s room. You pushed the door open, but the room was empty. You turned to exit the room and accidentally walked into someone on your way out.

“Watch where you’re going,” a voice boomed.

You looked up at the person, meeting a pair of piercing blue eyes. You recognized his accent as the same as your boyfriend’s. You looked up at his caramel streaked brown hair, then back to his face. His jawline was defined like Tom’s.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” his voice broke your gaze.

You flushed and quickly looked away, “Ah- Sorry.”

“What were you doing in that room?” He was now eyeing you suspiciously, “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N, Tom’s girlfriend,” you smiled as you said it.

He let out a dark chuckle, “Yeah, like I’d believe that. I would know if my best mate had a girlfriend.”

You felt a short lived pain in your heart. He didn’t tell his friend about your relationship?

“You’re coming with me,” the man grabbed your arms and held them together. His other hand patted you down, looking for something.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked nervously as he touched you.

“What d’you think?” Failing to find any weapons, he pulled out a sleek, black object. A gun.

You whimpered at the sight of it, trying to shift as far away from it as you could.

“Let’s go,” he growled, holding both wrists together behind your back.

You obliged, afraid of his power. You didn’t know what was going on. 

As you put the pieces together, you realized: Tom was robbed.

Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you reached another large set of doors. The man behind you kicked the door open, gun still pointed at your head. A metallic smell stung your nose.

“Found this one looking through your room. Thought she could be working for Davis,” he said to the darkness.

A silhouette of what looked like a man came walking towards you. You were shoved into a chair, and a dim light lit up the room. The first thing you saw was a bloodied man tied to his chair. A loud sob ripped from your lips.

“Y/N?” A familiar British voice filled your ears.

Hesitantly, you looked in the direction which the voice came. You saw your brunette boyfriend standing ahead of you, fists covered in blood. You felt like you were going to be sick.

“What are you doing here?” Tom asked, checking if you were injured at all.

“You know this girl?” The other Brit sounded.

Tom murmured something to the man, and the man gasped.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know the hell why,” Tom snapped.

You started to feel faint. Why was Tom beating up some random guy in a dark room? What was he hiding from you? Did you even know who the real him was?

“Darling, look at me. Take deep breaths,” you tried, but you couldn’t. The smell of blood made you feel even worse. You gagged, “I know it doesn’t smell good, but I can’t have you fainting on me right now.” 

“I- Leave. Leave now,” you managed to say.

“Haz, get her out of here,” the rest he said in a whisper so you couldn’t hear.

You felt someone lift you from your seat and carry you out of the room. You were lightly dropped onto a soft cushion. 

“I’m so sorry about earlier. I really didn’t know,” a soft voice said to your dazed figure.

“S’alright,” you murmured without realizing.

It took you a while to regain your state of normality, but when you did, everything came rushing back to you. Tom had beat someone almost to their death. His best friend stuck a gun to your head.

You shot up from your seat. You turned on your heal and rushed to get out of the house.

“Where are you going?” Haz asked you.

“I remembered that I left something back at my flat. I need to go get it, but don’t worry, I’ll be back,” you lied urgently, hoping to get out as fast as possible.

“Why are you in such a rush?” He eyed you as he did before, reading you like a book.

“I’m not in a rush,” you scoffed, “Just want to get my...” you contemplated for a moment, “my gift for Tom as quick as possible.”

“Nice try, darling,” he rolled his eyes. His eyes scanned your face, “You’re afraid,” tears began to pile in your eyes, “He’s never told you about this, hasn’t he?” You shook your head, no, “Oh, darling, come here.” He opened his arms and gave you a sympathetic smile.

Without hesitance, you rushed into his arms, crying into his white shirt. Although you were still afraid of him, you couldn’t help but hug him. You needed comforting at the moment, and no one else was here to do so.

“It’s alright. I understand how you feel. When I found out my father was in this...” he thought for the right word, “business, I reacted much like you, except for the running away part.”

You sniffled into his shirt, “I-I’m afraid.”

“I know you are, love, but Tom will come out and explain everything to you,” he gently stroked your hair.

You flinched at Tom’s name, “No. I want to go, and I want to go now.”

Harrison sighed, “Alright. I shouldn’t be letting you run, but I’m nice,” a small giggle slipped from your lips, “Stay safe, alright?” You nodded, ecstatic to be leaving.

Before you left, you remembered you never caught his name, “Um- Haz?” He hummed in response, “I never really caught your full name...”

“Oh, right. I’m Harrison Osterfield, but my friends call me Haz,” he smiled.

“Are we friends?” You asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Whatever you want, darling,” he felt himself melting under your adorable gaze. It was just too hard to resist.

“Alrighty, Hazza. We are friends now,” you said, amusement glazing your tone.

He chuckled and told you to go if you still wanted to leave. Sadly, you went your way, leaving Harrison to watch as you grew into a smaller dot with each step you took.

-

You waved goodbye to the man who helped you into the home and rushed back to your car. You started the vehicle as fast as your body allowed and zoomed off. You didn’t even look back to admire the beautiful property. The only thing on your mind was getting out of there.

You’d been dating practically a stranger for 11 months. It was all a facade. Who knows what he would’ve done to you if the two of you got into a fight.

-

That night, as you cuddled in bed, flashes of the bloodied man and Tom’s bloodied fists filled your mind. You were constantly pinching yourself awake to avoid the visions. Occasionally, in your dazed state, your mind wandered to Tom, thinking about what he was doing at the moment, but you always slapped yourself on the cheek to snap out of it. 

-

Back at the Holland Manor, Tom was punching things left and right. He was mad at Harrison for letting you run away. He was mad at himself for keeping this a secret from you for so long. He was just afraid that other competing mobsters would kidnap you and use you against him.

His hands pulled at his curls in frustration. He couldn’t stop seeing the look of fear on your face you’d given him back in his office. You looked so terrified for your life, yet he could still see the concern for him bubbling in your eyes.

Tom couldn’t stand the guilt, so he drove to your flat at 2:18 in the morning.

-

You heard a knocking at the door and felt your stomach drop. Who would be at the door at this time?

Then, you heard a muffled voice.

“Darling, it’s me, Tom, please let me in.”

You stayed put in your bed, ignoring the pulling in your chest that told you to open the door. 

Less than a minute later, you heard the door click open. The pounding in your chest became quicker and louder. This time, it wasn’t sympathy, it was fear. You reached for the pepper spray hidden in the corner of your room and quietly backed into the furthest corner to the door and closest to the window. You unlocked the hinges of your window, prepared for the escape.

Your bedroom door creaked open and a familiar face peaked in from the crack. You felt yourself automatically relax, but you kept the pepper spray up.

Tom stepped into your room, hands in the air, “I’m not going to hurt you, love, I just came to explain.”

He tried moving closer to you, but you yelled, “Don’t come any closer!”

He flinched from your tone and the pain that struck his heart.

“Explain from there,” you nudged your head to the other side of the bed.

“If it makes you feel safer, then I will,” he stepped behind the bed. “Look, love, what you saw earlier wasn’t me just beating up some random guy-”

“It sure looked like it! Blood was on your fists, Tom. Your fists! Not yours but his,” you yelped, realizing how bad it sounded out loud.

“I know, love, I know, but I have a reason for it,” he tried to explain in a calm tone.

“You have a reason for beating someone up? Like what? Did he make you mad? Did he hurt your ‘wittle’ heart? You have no-”

“I do! I’m a fucking mobster, all right? Not just any. No, I’m the strongest mobster in London!” He shouted at you.

You whimpered at his temper, afraid that he would hurt you. Your arms faltered but stayed frozen in place. You scrunched up your face and closed your eyes, leaning into the wall as much as you could.

“Darling, I-I never meant to scare you. I’m so sorry, love,” he moved closer to you.

! angst ending  |  fluff ending !

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tomholland #tomhollandimagine #tomhollandfanfiction #tomhollandfluff #tomhollandangst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader imagines #tom holland x reader imagine #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x reader fluff #Mob!Tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom x reader #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland fluff #mob!tom holland angst #mob!au #au #mob #reader insert #angst #fluff

[mercurial-madhouse]

@oldbay-on-apples asked, I wish you would write a fic where characters of your choice are spies and trying to escape a facility with the blueprints they need!

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

See my point of view (As someone staring back at you)

“We’re in, Haz.” 

Louis’s voice transmits through his earpiece. The tech relies on sound vibrations, picking up the resonance of Louis’s vocal cords so that, even though they can all hear him clearly, on Louis’s end his words are below a whisper. 

“Surprisingly, I can see that.” Harry scans the multiple video feeds on the screen before him. Louis, Picklock, top left; Niall, Ammunition, bottom left; Liam, Data Encryption, bottom right. 

Top right: blank. Where his feed should be. 

Louis’s face pops into Liam’s camera long enough for him to wiggle his eyebrows. All black looks so damn good on him. “How’m I supposed to know you weren’t mid-kip, old man?”

Harry tears his gaze away from Louis before his attention is compromised. Louis’s only two years older than he is and he’s been arse over tit for the footie player-turned-spy since they met years ago. But feelings cloud judgement, a potentially fatal threat too dangerous to dare in their line of work. He eyes the silver-tipped black cane leaning against the table next to him.

Current mobility status: severely limited.

“Promised Payno he wouldn’t have to babysit you alone,” he mutters without missing a beat.

Louis screws his features up then disappears from Liam’s screen, clearly shoved aside. Light glints off the camera implanted in the thin film of the eye-contact he’s wearing that’s allowing Harry to see their views. The nanotech Liam used to create it and their earpieces is too valuable to risk discovery by foreign governments. Any indication of compromise they must destroy the only lifeline Harry has to them.

Frustration tenses his muscles and tweaks the bulging disc between vertebrae L4 and L5. A lance of pain shoots up his spine. He raps a button on the keyboard. A fourth feed appears, the hijacked surveillance camera on the front gate with views of the Russian security guard manning the video booth.

Niall’s already detached from the other two. He oversees the perimeter. In complete silence he’s setting up remote-controlled explosives, the failsafe to create chaos should the other two need help during the extraction. Liam and Louis are silent. Harry watches like a video game without a controller as they scale the rear wall and infiltrate the building through the massive heating duct. 

As rogue operatives, their only link back to MI6 is a non-existent papertrail: an agent simply known as Z (probably because Q was already taken). The most dangerous jobs go to them, the ones MI6 can’t chance having connected back to the British government if the four of them are compromised on a mission.

If the window of opportunity to sneak into the Kremlin for a specific set of blueprints only known as TMH-11 weren’t closing fast, they might have waited for Harry to heal. All it’d taken was an unfortunate twist on their last mission in Bulgaria and he’d slipped a disc. He’s certain a gunshot to the back would be less painful. Louis had barely kept him on his feet to get to safety.

The silver world surrounding Louis and Liam steadies. For a few seconds Harry can see them both as they look at each other.

Liam glances at his watch. He’s spent months logging the patrols for the building and knows the timing by memory. 

“Six minutes, Tommo. No more.”

Louis nods. A breath, then they lift the ceiling grate aside. Liam finds leverage, planting his feet, gloved hands tight around the rope as Louis hovers towards the ground. The red laser lines criss-crossing the entire area as thin as trip-wires. 

Harry releases a breath when Louis’s feet touch down soundlessly, just before the tiny metal boxes all stacked like mailroom slots at a post office. The grid’s so small Louis’s got to keep his knees locked together. Even then, barely a centimetre separates him from discovery.

He works efficiently on the lock for box TMH-11, tools so tiny they make his slim fingers look even more slender. The miniscule flame of the blowtorch matches the alarm lasers in width. 

“Two minutes, eight seconds,” Liam says, tone even.

Plenty of time.

Louis is silent. He doesn’t answer when he’s concentrating. All of them know he’s heard.

The flame flares once. Louis cuts it off, pocketing the tools. He eases the door open, peering inside.

Motion on the screen catches Harry’s attention. The security guard’s feet have landed flat, squinting at the video monitor in front of him. His hand hovers over a call button, lips moving.

“Possible indeterminate error,” Harry warns. “Lou, get out now.”

Louis slides a cylinder from the box. At least a metre long, he slips it up to Liam.

“I’ve got movement,” Niall reports.

“Tommo, now,” Liam hisses.

Louis clicks the box closed. There’s no time to get the lock back into place. Footsteps fuzz through Liam and Louis’s earpieces. Pain surges through Harry’s back as he lurches forward, staring at Louis’s feed. Louis’s gaze whips over his shoulder towards the closed door of the vault.

“Lou, get out!”

Liam appears on Louis’s screen. Louis’s silent, but whatever he says to Liam with a look has Liam shaking his head.

Harry’s seen this too many times in his nightmares. They know their orders. They know what’s most important. “Lou, you still have time. Go.”

“Get that cache to Niall,” Louis whispers. He detaches the line from his back.

“Lou!” Harry shouts, in time with Liam. “Niall, code one. On my command.”

“Copy this.”

“Payno, go.” In Louis’s feed, Liam looks too far away. It’s not the distance that’s the enemy, it’s getting Louis through the grid without tripping the alarm. It’s precision that can’t be done quickly. The moment they trip the alarm the whole building goes on lockdown, cutting Liam off too.

Liam curses. Louis’s face vanishes in his screen, replaced by the cord Liam’s hauling up, then the descent of darkness as he closes the vent.

Heart racing, Harry splits his attention between Liam and Louis, anxiously tracking Liam’s progress back through the building. Louis doesn’t move except to press his forehead against the wall of metal, completely still. He can’t risk alerting the guards or sounding the alarm before Liam’s far enough out.

“Lou, he’s on the roof.” Harry doesn’t need to whisper, but his voice comes out soft anyway. “It’s only four metres to the door.”

If anyone can get out, it’s Louis. He’s as expert at slipping through tight spaces as he is at picking every lock. Harry refuses to believe he can’t find a way through these.

Louis pushes out a slow breath, loud enough for Harry to hear through the wire. “I won’t make it, Haz. You know I can’t risk it.”

Fuck. Fuck. This possibility isn’t a surprise. They’ve got hundreds of contingency plans and this one is no different. Once Liam successfully drops the cache with Niall, he’ll go back for Louis. 

“Payno, report.”

“Three minutes.”

Three minutes to get to Niall and back. A dangerous gamble.

“Think you could go a mite faster there, Payno?” Louis mutters, voice light despite the tightness.

Another man has joined the security guard. They’re pointing at one of the feeds. Harry’s heart thuds as dread washes over him, pulse pumping in his jugular. 

“Damnit, I should be—”

“Right where the fuck you are,” Louis cuts him off, an edge to his words. They soften. Something indescribable leaks into his tone and slicks Harry’s palms with sweat. “Right where you need to be, Haz.”

“I need to be with you.” The words are out before Harry can stop them, but it’s the truth. If Harry were there this wouldn’t be an issue. He should be getting Louis out while Liam runs the line. They operate in pairs for a reason.

Louis hasn’t moved at all. His control is impressive. Off the clock he’s all manic energy. On a job every move he makes is precise and carefully thought out. None of them could possibly fill his role.

“One minute,” Liam reports. He’s scaling to the roof.

Footsteps echo through the corridor behind Louis. Russian voices, too far for the mic to pick up, so the internal translator won’t work. They stop outside the door. The bleeps of a keypad.

A torpedo of terror surges into Harry’s chest and ruptures.

“Hazza—”

“Niall, now! Liam, go!”

“Haz, I’m sorry... I’m in love with you.”

Niall’s explosives detonate. Louis’s feed goes dark. Harry’s heart gets caught in the blast.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*< 

(Ok, I tried so hard to make this a drabble of 500 words. Then 1k. It wasn’t meant to be. This is the story the characters told me. I hope it fits the bill, love! I do enjoy me some spy AUs even though this is my first to write! Love my action and adventure!)

Have something else you’d like to see me write? Go wild! Pairing, situation, feeling… Send me an ask (anon or not) completing the sentence ‘I wish you’d write a fic where…’

Superpowers Drabble

Invisible Drabble

Only one bed (H-POV)

Only one bed (L-POV)

ABO new-omega!Louis drabble that became a fic on AO3.

#trackinghome #hlcreators #hljournal #1dsource #yourlarrysource #tracksintheam #larry drabble #larry fanfiction #spy au