#louis water spill

[tangerinequeen19]

[louisupdates]

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Louis spilling water 💦 on himself. 505, FITFWT24: Montevideo [15.5.2024] 📸 johaishome livestream

[mukharnews]

भारत टी 20 मैच जीत कर वर्ल्ड कप अपने नाम किया | T-20 वर्ल्ड कप भारत जीत | Mukhar News | #t20 #news

[happy74827]

Butterflies

[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You know you’re screwed when you feel them fluttering in your chest {GIF Creds: jeysuso}.

WC: 717

Category: Fluff

For all my Harvey lovers out there, I made a cute fluffy quickie (I’m seeing a lot of my fics being swarmed with love so why not add to it 🤗)

『••✎••』

It happened over a bottle of bourbon. A spilled bottle, actually. But a bottle of bourbon nonetheless, and that is important to note.

You didn’t mean to spill the alcohol all over your date, but he had made some comment about how you shouldn't be wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, so you just… happened to tip the entire thing over him.

The man was furious, of course, but he left pretty quickly after that. And you were left with a mess on the floor and a waiter hovering at the side, asking if you wanted another bottle.

You told him no. You just wanted to go home.

You didn't want a new date; you didn't want to sit at this stupid table with the stupid white tablecloth, the stupid, gaudy candlesticks, or the stupid waiter with the stupid, expectant look on his face.

"Miss?"

"No, thank you," you say, a little more firmly, gathering up your things and leaving as much cash as you can on the table. If you were smart, you'd have brought an umbrella, but you're not smart, so you'll just get drenched like an idiot.

But, fortunately for you, the person calling your name knew you well enough to know you weren’t that smart.

Before a drop of water could even hit your hair, a tall, dark figure steps out in front of you and blocks the downpour. Some might consider this a gentlemanly action, but you knew the man, and he was hardly ever gentle.

"You're welcome," Harvey says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're a pain," you reply, but you're grateful for the cover.

"And you're dateless. So, I see two options: we can have dinner and a drink back at my place, or we can do dinner and a drink back at mine."

You can't help but laugh. "Did you use this on Scottie? I see why she left. That line was bad."

"You're not going to ask how I knew you were here?"

"Nope. You probably had Louis stalk me."

"Don't talk about the puppy like that."

"So you did have him stalk me!"

"I prefer the term 'make sure you were alright,'" Harvey replies, and he holds out his arm to you. "Guy was a douche. Let me buy you dessert to make up for it. And I don’t mean in the biblical sense, although that can be arranged, too, if you'd like."

"Harvey, you’re such—"

You turned to him, ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him, but the words died when you met his eyes. Those same eyes that allured you into taking his offer at Pearson Hardman. The same eyes that made you agree to work with him on the case despite your better judgment.

In a flash, you saw the whole thing: your first meeting, the cases, the laughs, the looks, the touches. And now, the moment.

When you were younger, the term butterflies had never really made sense to you. The idea of feeling them in your stomach seemed ridiculous, and yet, there you were, feeling them for the very first time.

They were all fluttering around inside of you, and all you could think was, "Oh, no."

And as if the universe had heard you, it suddenly stopped raining, and you both stood there in the middle of the street, the moon casting a warm light on your faces.

Harvey noticed it, too, and his expression softened. His usual cockiness was replaced with a gentle concern. "You okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."

Harvey reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than it needed to. He gave you that signature grin and asked, "You look like a velvet cake kind of girl. Am I right?"

He was right.

Goddamnit, he was right.

And as he swaddled you in his coat to keep you warm as you both went back inside, the anger and confusion you felt earlier melted into a quiet, warm glow.

Date night had not gone according to plan, but when his lips met yours and your hands slid through his soft, brown hair, you realized that, perhaps, sometimes, it was good to deviate from the plan.

The butterflies seemed to agree.

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Seven)

CW: Jealous Simon, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, praise, bit of spanking

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

The morning air was gentle, a soft ray cast through an open window, blinds not shut. The tickle of hair brushed against your stomach, the scent of cotton and whiskey brushing past your ear as your eyes fluttered open.

Simon was warm, the pudge of his belly radiating against your back. You stirred, a soft groan leaving your head as your brain racked, throbbing with an arrogant hangover. Your body was compliant, sticking to the sheets as you wriggled, a quick hand grabbing at your waist.

“Stop wriggling like that,” Simon snapped, voice tense with slumber.

“It’s how I wake up,” you yawned, pressing at the static in your eyes as he laughed against the back of your neck.

“It’s waking me up too,” the evident hardness of his boner flushed against your ass. Your face stilled, movements stopping as you squeaked out an apology.

There was a gentle tick from cicadas outside as you walked into the garden, the bristle of hot air against your bare thighs as you nestled a cup of coffee into your palms. The flowers were bright, transcendent colours flickering across a simple green as you rested against a porch chair.

The English air was a windless ruin, the scent of the sun blazing against wood filling the air as you shielded your eyes, treading along grass as your hands tipped a metal can of water onto the flora.

“Gardens nice,” a voice said.

Simon’s hips hung low with a towel, distinct V-line disposing into the cotton as a delicate trail of hair followed. You swallowed, visibly.

“Thank you,” you gawked, eyes slightly wide as you breathed in the image of him, iris’ soaked in arousal.

“You want to grab breakfast?”

“And they call him Soap?” You giggle, mouth crinkling as your eyes closed, squinting as Simon explained his task force to you, or the men you indecently exposed.

“Gave it to ‘em because of how fast he cleans out a room.”

“And why do they call you Ghost?”

The name was strange leaving your mouth, the foreignness of someone so different to the military speaking it sending a chill through him as he maintained composure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The café was bustling, the bricks stacked with corny quotes and pictures of regulars, the mint counter littered with coffee grounds and spilt milk. Eyes wandered on the bulky man next to you, but he didn’t pay attention, simply watching you as you spilled workplace secrets.

The croissant you were scoffing down crumby as it collected on the side of your lips, the tickle of pastry paying you no mind as you rambled. Simon took in the way your eyes darted back and forth when you spoke too much and the way your hands displayed actions when you wanted to emphasise something.

He noticed how your nose twitched slightly as you sucked in deeper breaths than normal, and he noticed the light fluster of blush across your cheek when he gazed at you.

You scrunched your brows together as he looked at your lips, his own creasing up slightly with amusement.

“What?” You said, confused before a calloused thumb reached out and rubbed at the side of your lip, speckles of crumbs falling from your face as you groaned.

“I had food on my face the whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

“Didn’t wan’ interrupt your gossip session.”

The environment felt stagnant apart from the two of you, his thumb still pressed against your cheek with a light pressure, umber eyes seeping through his sockets as he memorised every crease of your skin. His ears hissed with a monotone ring, too focused on the speckles of shade that fell between your facial apertures.

“You’re-“

“Y/N?”

The voice was familiar, yet foggy, an immediate sense of dread running through you as you stared at Louis, his body clad with a flannel shirt and scuffed-up jeans. His face was bright with a smile, arms wide as you stood, awkwardly waving.

“You ran off too fast last night,” he prattled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You pulled away in an abhorrent manner, turning around to face Simon, a scowl crossing his face.

“Had to deal with something,” you muttered as Simon raised from his seat, towering over the pair of you as he cleared his throat.

“Ah- sorry mate, you must be?” Louis yakked, his chest puffing slightly as he faced the larger man.

Simon nearly scoffed into the air, “Simon.”

“It was nice seeing you, Louis,” you smiled, lips tight as you grabbed at your neighbour’s wrist gently.

“Before you go,” he jerked, grabbing onto your shoulder softly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out again, y’know, us two?”

“I don’-“

“She’s fine.” Simon’s voice was sharp, every syllable cutting through the thickening tension, barely visible cloud of discomfort clouding around your table as you excused the both of you, mingled bodies hustling out of the crowded corner store.

Your smile was amused, shoving at the muscle of his bicep, “She’s fine?”

The look from the Lieutenant was dirty but playful, almost tempting you to argue with him, luring more of his possessive words out, “Don’t need another man eating the pussy I ate, do I?”

The words rolled from his tongue in a motion of filth as you slapped his chest, a boyish laugh sounding from him as he opened the car door for you. The drive home was windy, the usual speckle of trees greeting you as his long fingers wrapped around the stick shift as he focused on the hardened tar before him.

Your thighs, covered by a gentle sundress, were wet, a combination of arousal and sweat leaking from your panties as an evident dark patch pressed against your heat as you shifted uncomfortably. Horny eyes glanced down to his jeans, an evident strain bulging close to his zipper as you swallowed.

Tantalising fingers stroked the flesh of his arm gently as he smiled at you before they fell onto his lap, groping lightly at the hardness of his thighs, a slow trail teasing his crotch as he coughed.

“What are you doing, sweet’art?” His voice tight.

“Returning the favour.” The jerk of his car was immediate, hazards flickering in the distance as he pulled down an emptier road, dirt skidding against the tyres as he halted.

Your fingers were quick as they unzipped his pants, his hands swatting yours away as he pulled them down, large curvature poking through his briefs, precum soaking across the tip as you kissed your teeth.

Your hand was quick to grab at his erection, letting the intimidating length rest in your palms as you watched him through hooded eyes. He was quick to rid his undergarments, healthy cock springing out as it slapped against gentle curls.

The head was flushed a light red, pearly silk collecting as you swiped a thumb across it, a gentle hiss leaving his lips. Your mouth was quick to lean down, a glob of spit landing on his shaft as your hands worked against his cock with a smooth pace, gentle groans eliciting from him.

Your mouth was warm, bathing him in instant pleasure as full lips suckled at the tip, tongue running along his member with ease as you welcomed him down your throat.

Simon’s fingers wrapped around your hair, working it into a messy ponytail as he bucked upwards, a choke sounding from your stuffed throat.

Your ass was flushed in the air as he leaned his chair back, dress pooling around your tummy as the fabric fell down the plushness of your thighs.

“Good fucking girl, so good at taking me, ain’t you? Bet this is nearly as nice as your pretty pussy.”

His words spurred you on, your mouth working faster along his dick as you held a tight grip on the remainder, another hand grabbing gently at heavy balls as he delivered a harsh spank to your exposed ass, panties wedged into the puffy lips of your pussy as you whined against him.

“Gonna fill this pretty mouth up, fuck- take you as mine. You gonna let me do that, baby?”

You nodded against him, cheeks hollowed around him as you traced a thick vein, earning a deep groan from him.

The windows fogged, dirty evidence surrounding the car as you gagged, slobbering down him as you hummed, feeding him down your mouth that would no doubt bruise later.

His hand was groping at your flesh, watching the way it melted into his palm with every slap, tender flesh jiggling against him. It was a sight for sore eyes as he guided you along his length.

His balls were taunt, desperate to release as you continued your pleasurable torment. “This mouth was made for me- Jesus Christ-“

With a final gag down his cock he was coming, your mouth rushed with the taste of tangy salt, a loud moan purring through his chest as you swallowed, pulling up with a pant as your tear-streaked eyes fluttered up at him.

“Fucking beautiful, ain’t you?”

[sophistication-as]

classmate!william x reader

modern au 💌 genius x genius

1.9k – fluff, masturbation (m!), pda, soft kisses

@cafekitsune thank you for the divider

happy new year, everyone! thanks for all the support. don’t forget to stay safe and drink plenty of water 💗

classmate!william who always saves a seat for you in the auditorium. he tilts his head slightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he whispers that he likes being close to someone so dedicated, his voice quieter than the murmur of students around you. he’s never been much of a talker in class, but somehow, with you, silence feels comfortable.

classmate!william who loves your eloquence when you discuss different subjects, his gaze lingering a little too long on the curve of your lips as you speak. even if your words weren’t the only thing he paid attention to, he’d always nod along, offering thoughtful responses just to keep the conversation going.

classmate!william who notices your habit of slipping away for a quiet moment with a cup of coffee. he surprises you one afternoon, setting a steaming cup beside your notebook without a word. “black, no sugar,” he murmurs, his tone as casual as if you hadn’t just realized he’s been paying attention to your preferences all along.

classmate!william who finds you asleep in the library, your head resting on a pile of notes. instead of waking you, he gently places his coat over your shoulders and sits across from you, quietly reading until you wake.

classmate!william who tries to make sense of the unfamiliar warmth that stirs in his chest every time your hand brushes his when passing notes in class. he tells himself it’s nothing, just a momentary distraction, but the thought lingers longer than it should, gnawing at his carefully crafted focus.

classmate!william who clenches his jaw when albert teases him about the way his expression softens around you. he brushes it off, claiming it’s just admiration for your intellect, but deep down, he’s terrified of what it might mean to want something so far outside his carefully built world.

classmate!william who wakes up with his body aching, his breath uneven as fragments of a dream about you flood his mind. his hand is already wrapped around his cock, the slick evidence of his arousal staining the sheets as he strokes himself slowly, trying to chase the ghost of your touch from his dream. his hips jerk involuntarily as your imagined whispers echo in his ears, the way your lips parted just for him, the way you said his name, dripping with need.

he spills himself messily, his cum pooling over his abdomen and staining the blankets beneath him. shame crashes over him almost immediately, and his hand falters as he stares at the mess he’s made. william exhales harshly, his chest rising and falling, his usually calm demeanor completely unraveled. he’s disgusted with himself, not just for the act, but for the fact that it felt so good to think of you like that—too good.

the next morning, he’s brooding more than usual, his jaw clenched as louis and albert exchange amused glances. "someone didn’t sleep well," albert comments with a smirk, and louis adds innocently, "you seem... distracted, william. something on your mind?" he glares at them both, his ears burning as their teasing continues. but it doesn’t stop there. when he sees you later in class, your innocent smile only stokes the lingering fire in his chest. he forces himself to look away, biting back the memory of his dream and the shameful pleasure he took from it. for once, william james moriarty finds himself losing control—and it terrifies him.

classmate!william who, one evening, when he sees you sitting by yourself in the library again, can’t help but walk over. your concentration is so intense that you don’t even notice him approaching. “mind if i join you?” he asks, his voice surprisingly steady despite the flutter in his chest. you look up, meeting his gaze, and something in his chest tightens at the way your eyes light up with recognition.

you nod, and he sits beside you, just close enough to feel the warmth of your presence without crossing that invisible line he’s so careful to maintain. the silence between you both isn’t awkward—far from it. it’s a comfortable quiet, filled with the rustling of pages and the occasional glance exchanged.

classmate!william who glances at you from the corner of his eye, noticing how the soft glow of the streetlights catches your hair, casting it in a warm, golden hue. there’s a small, content smile on your lips, a look that seems to say you’re at ease in this quiet company. his heart beats a little faster, and before he can stop himself, his hand reaches out, brushing against yours.

classmate!william who, after weeks of stolen glances and quiet conversations, finds himself walking beside you on a crisp evening, the cool air brushing past the two of you. the path to the dorms is empty, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the trees and the occasional murmur of distant voices from the campus. it's a moment suspended in time, just the two of you, and for the first time, the silence feels heavy with something unspoken.

you look up at him, eyes widening just slightly, and for a moment, the world slows down around you both. his breath catches as he realizes how close the two of you are, the touch lingering longer than usual. he’s always been good at hiding his feelings, but in that small, stolen moment, he’s not so sure anymore. he can feel the warmth of your skin against his, and the space between you feels impossibly small.

classmate!william who clears his throat softly, as though trying to dispel the sudden tension. “i… i didn’t mean to…” he starts, but his words die in his throat as your eyes meet his, soft and searching. you both stand there for a beat too long, as if neither of you knows exactly what to do.

then, almost instinctively, you step closer, closing the small distance between you both. his heart races as you look up at him, your gaze softening. and just like that, it feels like everything falls into place.

you’re not sure who leans in first, but the next thing you know, his lips are brushing against yours, tentative and gentle, like he’s testing the waters.

classmate!william who feels the warmth of your kiss seep through him, a surge of emotions he hasn’t quite figured out flooding his chest. it’s slow and careful at first, a quiet exploration of something neither of you has dared to voice out loud. but when you pull back, just a little, you both meet each other's eyes, and for the first time, the distance between you both feels so, so small.

he smiles faintly, a soft, genuine smile that reaches his eyes, and you can feel the gentle pull of something more than just affection—something deeper, something that’s been building for a while. “i… i didn’t expect that,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a warmth in it, in the way his gaze lingers on you.

you simply smile back, feeling the butterflies settle in your stomach as you say, “neither did i.”

and for a moment, you both stand there, the world around you quiet, as the promise of something new lingers in the air between you.

classmate!william who hesitates when he sees you sitting alone on the metro, headphones in, your focus entirely on the view outside. it’s late, the lights of the city flashing by in a blur, and the car is almost empty except for a few quiet passengers. he shifts on his feet for a moment before finally walking over and taking the seat next to you.

“long day?” he asks softly, his voice low enough to not startle you. you glance up, surprised, and pull out one earbud, a small smile tugging at your lips when you see him.

“you could say that,” you reply, your voice tired but warm.

classmate!william who keeps stealing glances at you as the metro glides along its tracks, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between your conversation. he notices the faint shadow of fatigue in your eyes, the way you rub at your temple absentmindedly. before he realizes it, he’s asking, “have you eaten?”

your head tilts at his sudden question, a small laugh escaping your lips. “no, not yet.”

he hums thoughtfully, pulling something from his bag—a neatly wrapped sandwich. “take it,” he says, holding it out. “it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

you blink at him, surprised. “you didn’t have to—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his tone firm but kind. there’s a faint blush on his cheeks as he looks away, pretending to focus on the advertisements flashing past the windows.

classmate!william who feels the subtle press of your arm against his as the train sways, the small, unintentional contact making his heart race in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

the metro comes to a brief stop, and more passengers file out, leaving the car nearly empty. the flickering overhead lights cast a dim glow, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you.

classmate!william who catches your reflection in the window, the faint curve of a smile on your lips as you lean slightly closer to him. “thank you,” you murmur, breaking the silence.

he turns to you, his voice unusually soft. “for what?”

“for this,” you say, holding up the now half-eaten sandwich, “and for sitting with me.”

his gaze lingers on you, something tender and unfamiliar stirring in his chest. “it’s nothing,” he mutters, but the way his voice wavers slightly betrays him.

classmate!william who can’t stop himself when the train jerks slightly, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you. his fingers brush against yours, and he feels the warmth of your skin—soft and real—and it makes his breath catch.

you glance down at your hands, then back up at him, your eyes meeting. the metro rocks gently, and the world seems to stand still as he leans in ever so slightly.

now it’s you who closes the gap, your lips brushing his in a soft, fleeting kiss that feels like a spark in the quiet hum of the train. it’s gentle, almost hesitant, but when you pull away, the look in his eyes is one of wonder.

classmate!william who stares at you for a moment, his hands coming to caress yours. his touch is deliberate, warm, and steady, a rare softness from someone so guarded. "name," he begins, his voice low but filled with conviction, "may i ask if you would like to have dinner with me?" he whispers, his golden gaze locked on yours, decided to show his feelings wholeheartedly for the first time.

you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, his question lingering in the air like a delicate melody. your heart flutters as you manage a shy smile, your hand still cradled in his. “yes, i would love to,” you reply softly, your voice tinged with quiet excitement.

classmate!william who feels a quiet sense of relief wash over him, though his heart still beats fast against his ribs. he doesn’t release your hand; instead, his thumb brushes over your knuckles gently, as though reassuring himself this moment is real. “then allow me to make it a night worth remembering,” he says, his tone confident but laced with a tenderness meant only for you.

you don’t miss the flicker of a smile that plays on his lips—a rare, genuine one that softens his usually composed demeanor. as he leads you out of the library, still holding your hand, you realize this is the start of something neither of you will ever forget.

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 2

word count: 4.9k

The house was loud.

The bass of the music thrummed so deeply it felt like it shook the foundation, rattling the windows and vibrating through the soles of shoes. The chatter and laughter of people inside mingled with the rhythmic beats, creating a cacophony that could be heard from the driveway. Aspen's wide, nervous eyes caught the flashes of strobe lights bursting through the curtained windows like erratic lightning.

Inside, the scene was already in full swing. Zayn's modest home, which Aspen had visited before for quiet hangouts and study sessions, had transformed into something unrecognizable. The faint scent of his usual musky cologne was now drowned in a mix of spilled liquor, cheap perfume, and the cloying aroma of too many bodies packed together in one space.

Coolers were shoved into corners and onto the back porch, brimming with a haphazard mix of beers, sodas, and melting ice that sent thin rivulets of water trickling across the floorboards. The living room, which Aspen remembered as tidy and inviting, was a chaotic sea of bodies. Couples leaned into each other on the couch, their limbs tangled, while others stood swaying to the music, their conversations drowned by the thundering bass.

Harry was the first of his friends to make it through the door, his tall frame and distinct curls catching the attention of more than a few people as he entered. He greeted Louis with a quick handshake, their voices barely audible over the din, before moving toward the makeshift bar set up in the dining room.

The "bar" was little more than a folding table draped in a thin plastic sheet, but it served its purpose. Bottles of various liquors, mixers, and stacks of red solo cups were scattered across its surface, sticky with spills and condensation. Harry grabbed one of the cups and twisted the cap off a bottle of peach-flavored Ciroc. The vodka flowed into his cup in a steady stream, mixing with a splash of orange juice he'd found at the edge of the table.

With his drink in hand, Harry turned back to survey the crowd, his eyes scanning the room with a detached curiosity. He sighed, running a hand through his curls before setting off in search of his friends.

The conversations he found himself in were as predictable as ever. Louis and Niall were already bickering over something trivial—football teams or album tracklists, he wasn't sure which—and Harry quickly grew tired of their antics. The noise around him felt suffocating, the humid press of bodies adding to his discomfort. With a quiet sigh, he excused himself and headed toward the kitchen, where he hoped to find a moment of peace.

The kitchen was mercifully quieter, though not completely deserted. Harry rinsed his hands under the warm stream of water from the tap, washing off the sticky remnants of spilled alcohol after Niall had accidentally jostled him during an overly enthusiastic retelling of his latest studio session. He grabbed a couple of paper towels, drying his hands and tossing the crumpled sheets into the overflowing trash can.

It was then that his attention landed on a stack of tattoo sketches strewn carelessly across the counter. He shook his head, muttering under his breath at Zayn's lack of organization as he gathered the papers. He couldn't resist flipping through them first, though, admiring the fine lines and bold designs his friend had been working on. After a moment, he tucked the sketches into an empty drawer, brushing his fingers over the countertop as if to wipe away his lingering annoyance.

Meanwhile, Aspen was frozen in the driveway.

"Wait!" she blurted, grabbing Isobel's wrist just as they were about to step inside.

Isobel turned, a mischievous grin already tugging at her lips. "What's wrong?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You said this was a get-together," Aspen hissed, her voice barely audible over the muffled thumping of the music from inside.

"It is! Well, technically," Isobel replied with a casual shrug, clearly unbothered by Aspen's growing panic.

"This is not a get-together," Aspen said, gesturing toward the house. "This is... this is a rager! I can hear the music from here! And look at the lights!"

Isobel laughed, rolling her eyes as she gently pried Aspen's hand from her wrist. "Come on, it'll be fun! You're already here, so you might as well enjoy it."

Before Aspen could protest further, Isobel tugged her toward the front door. The moment they stepped inside, Aspen was hit with a sensory overload. The air was thick and warm, a heady mix of alcohol, sweat, and perfume. Her boots stuck slightly to the floor with each step, the wood slick from spilled drinks.

Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the chaos. The couch she had once sat on with Isobel during quieter visits was now a war zone of half-drunken partygoers. Some were laughing, others were shouting, and a few seemed barely conscious. A group of women danced near the window, their laughter cutting through the music like sharp, staccato notes.

Aspen felt entirely out of place. Her outfit, though modest compared to some of the others, suddenly felt too revealing, and she crossed her arms instinctively over her chest. Isobel was already gone, having spotted Zayn across the room and made a beeline for him. Aspen lingered near the coat rack, her fingers brushing over the leather sleeve of her borrowed jacket as she scanned the room for a quiet corner.

The minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity. Aspen's throat was dry, but she was too nervous to venture into the throng of people in search of a drink. Finally, when the crowd thinned slightly, she mustered the courage to make her way to the kitchen.

As she rounded the corner, the noise from the living room faded into the background, replaced by the softer clatter of glassware and the hum of the refrigerator. Aspen's fingers toyed with the hem of her jacket as she approached the fridge, hoping to find a bottle of water.

Her fingers had just curled around the handle when a deep voice stopped her in her tracks.

"The water and stuff 's outside."

Aspen startled, her hand snapping back as though the handle had burned her. She turned sharply, her gaze colliding with a pair of green eyes framed by a mess of dark curls. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Oh! Uh, t-thank you," she stammered, mentally cursing herself for the shaky reply.

Harry leaned against the counter, his posture relaxed but his gaze intent as he watched her. His arms were crossed, the muscles of his forearms flexing slightly under the inked patterns of his tattoos. He held his red solo cup in one hand, the faint scent of peach vodka wafting from the rim.

"Ashley, right?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "Isobel's roommate?"

"Aspen," she corrected quickly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Right, Aspen. Sorry 'bout tha'," he said, his lips quirking in a half-smile before he took another sip from his cup.

Aspen shifted nervously under his gaze, acutely aware of how out of place she must seem. Her eyes flickered downward, taking in his outfit. Black jeans, ripped at the knees, paired with a Rolling Stones shirt and a pair of worn boots. A black bandana hung loosely from his back pocket, completing the effortlessly cool look.

She felt entirely ordinary in comparison.

"Well, um. Thank you, again." Aspen felt heat crawl up her neck and swallowed slightly before she began to turn on her heel. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her long sleeve, eager to escape the piercing gaze of the man in front of her.

But just as she turned, Harry's voice stopped her again.

"You don't like parties, do you?" he asked, his tone bordering on amused but not unkind.

Aspen froze mid-step, caught off guard by his observation. She glanced over her shoulder, her lips parting slightly in surprise before she quickly recovered. "Uh, no, not really," she admitted, her voice soft.

Harry chuckled under his breath, the sound low and warm. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he definitely came across nicer than he appeared. 

He pushed off the counter, taking a slow step toward her, though still giving her plenty of space. "Figured," he said, lifting his cup slightly in a vague gesture toward the crowded living room. "You don't exactly look like the rest of the lot out there."

Aspen wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a jab, but the way his eyes lingered on her made her stomach flutter. She offered a shy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I, uh, kind of got roped into this by my roommate."

"Isobel, right?" Harry asked, his head tilting slightly. Even though he just asked, she didn't mind.

She nodded. "Yeah. She's, um... she's great at convincing me to do things I'd normally avoid."

Harry smirked at that, his dimples appearing briefly. "Sounds like her," he said. "Zayn talks about her all the time. Says she's got a knack for dragging people out of their comfort zones."

Aspen huffed a quiet laugh, glancing down at her boots. "That's definitely accurate."

Harry leaned back against the counter again, his posture casual as he watched her. "So what's your plan, then? Gonna hang out by the fridge all night?"

His question caught her off guard, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "I... well, I wasn't really planning to stay long," she admitted. "Just... you know, keeping Isobel company for a little while."

"Hmm," Harry hummed, his gaze flickering over her face. "That why you're dressed up, then? To 'not stay long'?"

Aspen's cheeks burned at his comment, and she quickly shook her head. "Oh, no! I mean, I wasn't really sure what to wear, and Isobel kind of helped me pick this out, so..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured vaguely to her outfit, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

Harry's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. "Well, it suits you," he said finally after the moments of silence.

Aspen's heart skipped a beat, and she wasn't sure if it was from the compliment or the intensity of his gaze. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of music.

The silence stretched between them for a moment, not uncomfortable but charged with an energy Aspen couldn't quite place. She shifted on her feet, unsure of what to say next, when Harry suddenly tilted his head toward the back door.

"C'mon," he said, his voice light but inviting.

"What?" Aspen blinked, confused.

"Let's get y'some water," Harry said, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Before y'pass out from dehydration or somethin'."

Aspen hesitated, her eyes darting toward the back door. The idea of venturing further into the party—or anywhere else with him—made her nerves spike, but the thought of standing alone in the kitchen didn't seem much better.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice quiet.

Harry pushed the door open, holding it for her as the cool night air spilled into the kitchen. She stepped outside, grateful for the fresh air that instantly cleared her head. The backyard was just as lively as the house, though the noise felt less overwhelming here. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed above, casting a warm glow over the crowd of partygoers scattered around the yard.

Harry led her toward one of the coolers near the porch steps, crouching down to rummage through the ice. "Let's see... beer, beer, soda, more beer..." He frowned theatrically, tossing cans aside with a soft clatter.

Aspen couldn't help but notice his exaggerated movements. "You don't have to dig through the whole thing," she said, her voice concerned, not wanting his fingers to freeze off from the piles of ice he dug through.

"Ah, here we go," Harry said triumphantly, pulling out a bottle of water. He stood and handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers briefly.

"Thanks," she said, unscrewing the cap and taking a grateful sip.

Harry leaned against the porch railing, his cup still in hand as he watched her. "So, what d'you usually do on a Friday night, if you're not getting dragged to parties like this?"

Aspen smiled faintly, lowering the bottle. "Um, I usually stay in. Read a book, maybe watch a movie."

"Sounds... peaceful," Harry said, his tone genuine.

"It is," Aspen said, nodding. "I like the quiet."

Harry tilted his head, studying her for a moment. "Guess this must feel like a bit of a nightmare, then."

"A little," she admitted with a small laugh.

Harry smiled at her honesty, his dimples making another appearance. "Well, if it helps, I'm not much of a party person either."

"Really?" Aspen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "I'm usually here because of Zayn or Louis. They'd probably call m'a buzzkill if I didn't show up."

Aspen smiled at that, feeling a little less alone in her discomfort. "Guess we're both out of our element, then."

"Guess so," Harry said, his voice still deep and brushed with vodka.

For the first time that evening, Aspen felt the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. The noise of the party faded into the background as she stood there with Harry, the cool night air wrapping around them like a quiet reprieve from the chaos inside.

"So, your tattoo shop," Aspen cleared her throat as she asked, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. Maybe it was her being nervous, or maybe it was her being intrigued, but she wanted to know more about it—about him. And she was hoping he would be willing to share.

Her eyes flickered back to the large crowd and the thumping music behind the sliding glass doors of the house. The sharp contrast between the chaos inside and the relative calm out here made her feel like she'd stepped into another world. When her gaze shifted back to Harry, she found herself noticing the details she'd missed before.

The tattoos that crept up his neck seemed even more intricate up close, swirling lines and tiny symbols that drew her attention in ways she didn't quite understand. She caught a better look at the black metallic lip ring he wore, the faint gleam of it catching the light from the string of fairy lights above. His chipped black nail polish wasn't a surprise, but there was something oddly endearing about the imperfections—how the cracks and uneven edges seemed to humanize him in a way she didn't expect. His hand around the red solo cup was relaxed, fingers adorned with silver rings that clicked softly against the plastic as he tilted the cup in his grip.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her question, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The shop?" he repeated, his accent making the words feel somehow smoother. "What about it?"

"Well," Aspen began, feeling a small rush of embarrassment as she realized she hadn't actually thought her question through. She smoothed her hands over the hem of her jacket, trying to steady herself. "I mean... how'd you get into it? You don't exactly hear of people opening tattoo shops every day."

Harry chuckled, his shoulders shifting slightly as if he wasn't used to talking about himself in this way. It was surely a sound she didn't expect to hear from him. "Fair enough," he said, his voice low. He glanced down at his cup for a moment, his thumb running absently along the rim. "Started as a bit of a side thing, honestly. I was doing tattoos for mates when I was younger, just messing around with a cheap kit I got off some bloke. Didn't think much of it at first."

Aspen nodded, her gaze fixed on him as he spoke. She felt herself relax slightly as he opened up, his words weaving a small picture of his past.

"But," he continued, his eyes lifting to meet hers again, "guess I realized I liked it more than any of the other rubbish I was doing at the time. Gave me something to focus on, you know?"

She tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing in thought. "Something to focus on?"

Harry hesitated for a beat, his expression softening in a way that made him seem momentarily vulnerable. "Yeah. Kept me out of trouble, mostly. Didn't have much else going for me back then."

Aspen's lips parted slightly, an empathetic expression crossing her face. "It must've taken a lot to turn it into what it is now," she said gently.

He shrugged, his smirk returning, though it felt a little less playful this time. "Yeah, it wasn't easy. But it's mine, you know? That's what matters."

There was a quiet pride in his voice, and Aspen found herself smiling faintly. She could see it now—the dedication it must've taken to turn a casual hobby into a fully fledged business. It made her admire him in a way she didn't expect.

"Do you still tattoo people?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Harry's smirk widened slightly, and he tilted his head toward her. "Yeah, still do some now and then. You thinking about getting one?"

The question caught her off guard, and she let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. "Oh, no, I don't think I could ever do that."

"Why not?" Harry pressed, his tone light but curious.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging slightly. "I guess I just wouldn't know what to get. Or where to put it. Plus, I'd probably chicken out the second the needle came near me."

Harry laughed at that, the sound low and genuine. "'S not as bad as y'think," he said. "Might surprise yourself."

"Maybe," Aspen said, though she wasn't entirely convinced.

Harry leaned back against the railing, his gaze still on her. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where t'find me."

Her cheeks flushed slightly at his words, and she glanced down at the bottle of water in her hands. "I'll keep that in mind," she said softly.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward, but it was charged with an unspoken tension. Aspen felt it in the way Harry's gaze lingered on her, in the way her own heart seemed to race despite the calm atmosphere of the backyard. She wasn't used to this kind of attention—not the kind that felt so deliberate, so focused.

"So," Harry said after a moment, his voice breaking the silence but not the intensity. "What about you? Wha's your thing?"

"My thing?" Aspen repeated, looking up at him.

"Yeah," he said, gesturing slightly with his cup. "Y'know about the shop now. What's the Aspen version of that?"

She hesitated, the question throwing her off. "I... don't think I have one," she admitted, her voice quieter now.

Harry frowned slightly, his head tilting as he studied her. "Everyone's got a thing," he said. "Maybe you just haven't figured it out yet."

Aspen smiled faintly, though there was a hint of self-consciousness in her expression. "Maybe."

Harry didn't push her, but the way he looked at her made her feel like he was trying to figure her out, piece by piece. And for some reason, she didn't mind.

"Um, I— I like writing, I think," Aspen spoke up, her voice wavering slightly. She never liked to talk about it, but she figured that she owed Harry for opening up to her. Plus, there was a certain comfort in the idea that this might be the only time they'd ever have a conversation like this— if she'd even see him again after tonight.

Harry raised a brow and took another sip of his drink, silently urging her to continue.

"Not stories or anything," she began hesitantly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the plastic water bottle in her hand. "But... I don't know. Personal stuff, about what I feel. I try to make it more... interesting, more beautiful than the actual words themselves. Whenever we got to do creative writing in English classes, I always got high grades, and the teachers would ask to put my work on display. They said I had a way with emotion, with attention to detail." She gave a small shrug, her gaze dropping briefly as if to downplay her words. She wasn't used to sharing this part of herself.

Harry tilted his head slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "How did y'get into it?" he asked, his voice soft, curious, and far from judgmental.

Aspen hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting down to the ground before she met his again. She caught the way he was watching her, fully attentive, and it felt strange but reassuring at the same time. "It... also kept me out of trouble, you could say," she admitted with a faint, almost self-deprecating smile.

Harry's brow furrowed slightly at her words, but he didn't interrupt.

"Whenever my parents said something or did something to me," Aspen continued, her voice quieter now, "I would use my journal as an escape. It kept me from having a 'filthy mouth,' as they called it whenever I spoke back."

Her fingers tightened slightly around the water bottle as she took in a sharp breath, clearly bracing herself against the vulnerability of her own admission. Harry noticed, his gaze dropping briefly to her hands before returning to her face.

"Sounds like they didn't make it easy f'you," he said, his voice carrying a gentle weight that made Aspen feel seen.

"They didn't," she said with a faint laugh, though it lacked humor. "But the writing helped. It gave me a place to say what I wanted to say, even if no one else ever read it. It was mine, and no one could take it away from me."

Harry nodded slowly, his expression pensive. "Writing's a good outlet," he said after a moment. "Sounds like 's something you're really good at, too."

Aspen's cheeks warmed at the compliment, and she ducked her head slightly. "I guess. I mean, it's not like I do much with it anymore. It's just... there."

"Doesn't mean it's not important," Harry countered, his voice steady. "Y'ever thought about sharing it? Like, putting it out there for people to see?"

Her eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, and she shook her head quickly. "Oh, no. I don't think I could ever do that. It's too... personal, you know?"

Harry gave a small smile, leaning against the railing as he studied her. "Sometimes the personal stuff is what connects with people the most," he said. "But I get it. It's not easy putting yourself out there."

"Yeah," Aspen said softly, her fingers still toying with the edge of the water bottle. She appreciated that he didn't push her, that he seemed to genuinely understand.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, the distant thump of the music inside filling the air. Aspen glanced back at the sliding glass door, watching as people moved in and out of the house, laughing and shouting over the music.

"You know," Harry said suddenly, his voice breaking through her thoughts, "I think you should give it a shot. Even if it's just for yourself. Sounds like it's something you really care about."

Aspen turned back to him, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered his words. "Maybe," she said, though her tone was unsure.

Harry smirked slightly, lifting his solo cup in a mock toast. "Here's to maybe," he said, his tone light but his gaze still steady on her.

Aspen couldn't help but laugh softly at that, her nerves easing just a little more. "Here's to maybe," she echoed, raising her water bottle in response.

For the first time that night, she felt like she wasn't completely out of place.

Just then, Isobel's voice came booming through the backyard, followed by the sharp sound of her heels hitting the floor. It snapped both of them out of their gaze.

"Asp!" she exclaimed, throwing herself onto Aspen with all the enthusiasm of someone several drinks deep. "I thought you left. I am so sorry, Zayn just--" Isobel began to ramble, words spilling out in a slurry mix of apology and excitement.

Aspen shushed her, a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "It's okay," she reassured. "I was about to head out anyway. I kind of figured out earlier that you'd end up crashing here with Zayn, so..." She waved her phone in the air, showing the Uber app open and a ride already on its way.

It was just about midnight, and the distant thump of the music inside only seemed to grow louder as the party carried on. It was time to go.

Isobel pouted dramatically, clinging to Aspen with wide, exaggerated puppy-dog eyes. "Are you sure you're okay with me staying? I can leave if you want!"

Aspen smiled softly, squeezing Isobel's shoulder in a comforting way. "It's fine, really. It's only a seven-minute ride, if even that. I'll text you as soon as I get home."

Isobel's pout melted into a warm, tipsy smile. "Okay, but you better! Or I'm coming to your house at 3 a.m. to make sure you're alive!" she teased, drawing out a laugh from Aspen.

After a few more exchanges, mostly consisting of Isobel reiterating how sorry she was and Aspen reassuring her it wasn't a big deal, Isobel finally broke away, skipping back toward the chaos of the party.

It wasn't until she was nearly through the sliding door that Isobel even acknowledged Harry's presence. She gave him a quick glance, then a careless wave before disappearing back into the crowd. Harry lifted his now-empty cup in a silent goodbye, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He turned back to Aspen as she pocketed her phone. He didn't look particularly drunk—or even tipsy, really. Just... at ease.

"Are y'really going to take an Uber home? This late?" Harry asked, leaning back against the railing, his empty cup dangling lazily from his fingers.

Aspen shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Yeah. It's not far, and Isobel's obviously staying here, so..." She trailed off, glancing at her phone to check the app.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Y'trust an Uber driver at midnight over someone you've been talking to all night?"

The comment made Aspen pause. She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting as if to respond, but she didn't quite know what to say.

"I was actually about to head home myself," Harry continued, pushing off the railing and straightening up. His voice was casual, but there was something in his tone—genuine, perhaps—that made her stomach flip. "I could give y'a ride. If you're comfortable with tha', I mean."

Aspen blinked at him, surprised by the offer. "You don't have to do that," she said softly, though her tone wavered.

"I know," Harry replied, his gaze steady as he met her eyes. "But 'm offering. It's not out of my way, and 's safer than y'riding with a stranger."

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. Logically, she knew he was right. The idea of riding with Harry—someone she had spent the last hour talking to—felt far less intimidating than stepping into a random car.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

A faint smile tugged at Harry's lips. "All right, then. Let's go."

They walked together around the side of the house, the muffled bass of the party growing distant as they stepped into the quieter front yard. Harry led the way to a sleek black car parked along the curb. Aspen noted the polished exterior, though the inside looked a bit more lived-in, with a leather jacket draped over the passenger seat and a few empty water bottles in the back.

"Sorry f'the mess," he said, moving quickly to toss the jacket into the back seat. "Didn't know I'd have company tonight."

Aspen gave a small laugh, sliding into the passenger seat. "It's fine," she assured him.

Harry climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car with a low rumble. "So, where to?"

Aspen recited her address, and he nodded, pulling away from the curb with an ease that spoke to how often he drove late at night. The silence that filled the car wasn't uncomfortable; instead, it felt... peaceful.

"Do you do this often?" Aspen asked after a moment, her voice soft.

"Offer rides home to near-strangers?" Harry teased, his dimples appearing as he glanced at her. "Not really. You're lucky."

Aspen smiled, her cheeks warming. "No, I mean... drive home late. After parties."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. "Not as much anymore. Used to, though. This kind of scene was my life for a while."

"Was?" she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

"Yeah," he said with a slight shrug. "I still show up now and then, but it's different now. The noise, the chaos— 's not really my thing anymore."

Aspen nodded, her gaze drifting out the window as the streets blurred past. She understood what he meant, even if her own experiences didn't quite match his.

"Thanks for this," she said after a moment, her voice quiet but sincere. "I don't think Isobel even realized I was planning to leave."

Harry glanced at her, his expression softening. "You don't have to thank me. Jus' figured it's the least I could do."

They fell into another comfortable silence, broken only by the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. Aspen found herself stealing glances at him—the way his fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel, the faint glow of the dashboard illuminating his profile.

When they pulled up outside her townhouse, Harry parked and turned to her. "This it?"

"Yeah," Aspen said, unbuckling her seatbelt. She hesitated for a moment, gripping the door handle before glancing back at him. "I'll text Isobel to let her know I got home, but... thanks again."

Harry smiled a lopsided smile, his dimples faintly showing once more. "Anytime."

Aspen stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her skin. She lingered for a moment, watching as Harry leaned an arm on the open window.

"Get some rest, Aspen," he said, his voice low.

"You too," she replied, offering a small wave before heading toward her front door.

As she unlocked the door and stepped inside, she couldn't help but glance back through the window. His car was still there, his headlights casting a soft glow on the quiet street. After a second or two, they disappeared into the night.

[dailytomlinson]

Louis spilling his water bottle - 15.05

[blouisparadise]

Today we have the fourth part of our hurt/comfort rec list for you! There are tons of amazing fics on this list that we hope you'll show some love to. If you missed the previous parts, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Wanna Feel the Edges Start to Burn | Explicit | 6,111 words

Harry gives him a gentle smile. “Feeling a little bit better?” Louis nods tentatively. “I think so yeah. Thank you so much for being so kind, but you really didn’t need to do this.” He lifts his unfortunately still shaky hand and runs it haphazardly through his hair. “It was just a spilled tea, I totally overreacted. I’m a bit embarrassed to be honest.” Harry scoffs. “Are you kidding me? Don’t be. I saw the whole thing, that guy was way out of line. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Louis gives him what he’s sure is a watery smile. “Erm thank you. I wouldn’t normally admit this to a stranger, but you’ve already seen me cry today so what the hell?” He forces himself to let out a weak laugh. “The thing is, my period is due any day now and sometimes the birth control pills make my emotions go a little haywire. I think that’s what happened.”

2) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,894 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

3) Wanna Do Nothing With You | Explicit | 9,606 words

The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital. He’s told that he wasn’t unconscious the entire ride, but he has absolutely no recollection of it. One second he’s fucking around in his own garden and the next he’s being assaulted with the strong sterile scent of a hospital. So. There’s that.

4) Let Me Be Your Good Night | Explicit | 10,520 words

Louis goes on a shit Valentines date and Harry's the cute waiter who takes him home

5) For The Love Of Biscuits | Mature | 16,574 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The thing about hybrids is that their animal instincts make them jumpy. And quite often lends them to being owned. Harry Styles wasn't looking to purchase a half-breed. But sometimes things just happen. And owning a fox/human hybrid was something that happened.

6) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18,088 words

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone. One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts. Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts. Three: They do not get along. So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

7) Soup Of The Day | Explicit | 19,958 words

It had been the single minded goal for them since college and seemed simple enough. 1. Study hard. 2. Open their dream restaurant. 3. Take the culinary world by storm. What could possibly go wrong?

8) Under The Rain Or Under The Snow | Explicit | 20,667 words

Christmas AU where they broke up a month ago but Harry shows up at Louis’ childhood home for the holidays. Louis didn’t tell his mum about their breakup so staying with them is not ideal. Harry stays.

9) Heart Eyes | Explicit | 21,467 words

Harry is a dedicated sentinel with a strong aversion to demons, and Louis is the lovesick incubus who will go to any lengths to win Harry's heart.

10) It Was All By Design (‘Cause I’m A Mastermind) | Explicit | 21,986 words

“You can’t be serious. You think I would be so awful to work for - you would rather quit?” “Don’t be all high and mighty about it,” Harry scoffs. “Surely you would do the same.” “I’m not being high and mighty. It’s called being professional.” “Really?” Harry pushes. “You’d work diligently under me with no complaints? You’d do whatever I asked of you?” “That would be my job, so yeah.” Harry shakes his head. “I’d work you so fucking hard,” he says slowly, “that you’d have to quit.”

11) Thrown To The Wolves | Explicit | 21,681 words

Louis is a human living in the Styles' wolf pack who can't stop getting into trouble, and Harry is the soon-to-be alpha who thinks keeping Louis at arm's length is the safest option.

12) Letters To June | Mature | 41,150 words

It's 1915, Europe is in the middle of the Great War. Omega Louis decides to join the Letter Home Project to become someone’s penfriend. Through this he meets a lovely soldier who hasn't got anyone else to send a letter to. Along with his letter, comes a picture of the most handsome alpha Louis has ever seen.

13) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47,099 words

Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

14) As We Are | Explicit | 48,268 words

Louis doesn't think much when he's asked to meet up with the alpha of the pack two hours from his own - he figures it's business as usual. But Harry Styles is anything but usual.

15) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who’s never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

16) Of Lost Things | Explicit | 57,890 words

Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with. But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louis’ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But it’s all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis. Except… what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and myth—or rather, history, is about to repeat itself?

17) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,562 words

In the grand scheme of things Louis did believe in love, what he didn’t believe was that he would ever find it in his life time for himself. Low and behold he would find it with someone he didn’t anticipate, now it was just a matter of having it work out the way he dreamed of.

18) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

19) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93,131 words

As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

20) You Were My Because | Explicit | 109,089 words

Note: Please be sure to read the tags and any warnings.

Louis has battled the demons of his past for years now and has little hope of finding happiness for himself. Especially now that a school reunion is taking place and the memories of his school days are suddenly coming back with full force. But after rain always comes sunshine, in Louis’ case in the form of his old schoolmate Harry. A story about healing, friendship, finding trust and love.

21) Drops of Jupiter | Mature | 121,826 words

In a small, sleepy town ruled by prejudice, Louis Tomlinson runs his grandmothers shop for the occult. He finds comfort in his tarot cards, his friends, and a dog that he doesn't have room for. He thought the worst he'd have to deal with would be bigotry, until a new sheriff arrives with a headstrong little girl that's impossible not to fall in love with. But what happens when a string of break-ins leads to a brutal attack, and the towns' darling is murdered right under their Sunday hats? A murder that just so happens to bear the same modus operandi as similar homicides in neighbouring states. Has the killer been circling Virginia, or is he a local of Lavender Hills? And what will Louis do when the charming Sheriff Styles starts to suspect him of such a heinous crime?

22) Sewn Into You | Explicit | 167,485 words | Sequel

Harry Styles thinks soulmates are a fairytale, or in other words-a lie. He has no interest in entertaining anything that has anything to do with the very name that had been etched along his collarbone since his eighteenth birthday. Louis Tomlinson won't be answering to another alpha for the rest of his life if he can help it. Fuck happy endings, his soul mate can choke on it. Problem is, Harry needs a personal assistant to save his family's business, Louis needs the cash to officially move off of his childhood best-friend's couch. They can manage. Surely, nothing will go wrong.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[louistomlinsoncouk]

Louis spilling water on stage in Montevideo, Uruguay (via romolivera's Instagram story) - 15/5

[tangerinequeen19]

The Twisty Spritzy: A Louis Tomlinson Drama in Four Acts for @sunshineandlyrics [alternate angle]

[louisupdates]

Louis Tomlinson spilling water, FITFWT24: Montevideo [15.5.2024] 📸 romolivera IG story

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- The Brit Awards 2013 Highlights

2013

Part 28

Nervously I sit down in my seat straightening my dress as I do. I sit between Zayn and Liam because Harry and I aren’t allowed to sit next to each other according to management

“You ok?” Zayn asks me as I take a sip of water with shaking hands

“Yeah just… nervous I guess”

“How’s your headache?” Harry asks from across the table

“Not great. I know it’s going to kill after tonight. I’ve got some more paracetamol in my bag if I need it”

“Just make sure you definitely have your in ears in. Even if you can’t hear us or yourself” Niall says

“But then I’ll sound terrible”

“Na we’ll keep you in time done worry” Louis says giving me a smile

“Welcome to the 2013 Brit Awards” the announcement starts and we all go quiet.

“Now look who I’ve found over here at this table, One Direction. How are we guys?” James Corden asks sitting in between Zayn and Louis

“Very well very excited” Louis replies into the microphone James is holding

“Now last year we had a chat and the next day you were going to play in America for the first time. Your now the biggest band in the world. You’ve had 2 consecutive number ones in America alone. Is it a bit much to take in?”

‘Yes imagine having many teens looking up to you as a role model and having the media pick out ever flaw and having haters online who have never met you spill nothing but lies and hate towards you and on top of that all of your friendships and romances are public so you never get a break’ is what I would like to say, but James holds the microphone to Zayn who says

“Erm yeah it’s massively overwhelming and we can’t thank our fans enough. They’re the people who got us to where we are so we owe it all to them”

“Now your performing later on tonight. Your performing your comic relief single which is currently, did you know it’s currently number one in 63 countries. I don’t even know if I can name 63 countries. Niall can you?”

“No” he replies shaking his head

“Your going back on tour right? YN when does that kick off”

“We start tour literally this weekend here at the O2 and we’re really excited”

The boys are in jeans and leather jackets while I’m in tight leather trousers and a cute white top. Music for One Way Or Another (Teenage Kicks) starts and we practically jump on stage

“One way or another I’m gonna find ya. I’m gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya. One way, or another, I'm gonna win ya I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya” Harry starts the song glancing over at me before giving me a little nod

“One way, or another, I'm gonna see ya. I'm gonna meet ya, meet ya, meet ya, meet ya. One day, maybe next week. I'm gonna meet ya, I'm gonna meet ya, I'll meet ya” I sing. Thankfully I can hear perfectly fine but the lights aren’t doing anything for my headache at all. I walk down the stairs slowly, but since the boys get down the stairs quicker than me Harry runs back up and takes my hand to make sure I don’t slip while singing

“I wanna hold you wanna hold you right” I take the higher harmony again not helping my head at all. During rehearsals I’ve been told to prolong a high note which I haven’t done yet because of my headache and nausea

“I get teenage kicks right through the night” thankfully I am able to hold the note causing Harry, Louis and Niall group hug me and jump around the stage

“Brit Awards 2013 make some noise for YN!” Liam shouts. At the end of the song Harry once again helps me up the stairs before we are dropped back down.

“And the winner of the global success award is my 5 little brothers and little sister One Direction!” Robby Williams says into the microphone on stage. We all stand up from our seats and hug one another before heading on the stage

“This is really is mind blowing” Louis says taking the microphone from Robbin and holding the award “we have have to start off by thanking our incredible fans. They have been just been unbelievable and we wouldn’t be here today without them”

“This is absolutely amazing thank you so much. I just want to say thank you to our record label and Sony and Syco” Harry and I both give each other other a look when Liam mentions Syco “and to modest our management” I look down at my feet making sure I don’t eye roll. I know Liam has to say this to keep the peace but I really wouldn’t be thanking them “also our parents are in the house tonight so I just want to say thank you to all of them. Thank you so much!”

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

MUD

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of a suspect attempting to drown reader (she's a cop) but it is not detailed. Love confessions. RE2 Leon being as precious as always.

Words: 320ish

Author’s Note: Day 5! I struggled with this prompt for a bit to be honest.

MUD - soft, sticky matter resulting from the mixing of earth and water.

Your pants are crusty, dried mud sticking to your jeans from mid-calf downward. The clean tile floors below your feet mock you with their cleanliness, and suddenly the dried earth on your arms and face begins to itch, begging your nails to relieve the annoying sensation.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Leon’s voice crosses the office clearly, Lieutenant Branagh chuckles audibly next to you as you turn to see the rookie crossing the room with a far more concerned pace than he usually uses.

“I’m fine, Kennedy. It wasn’t a big deal,” you lie, the water still burning your lungs as you speak. The hospital cleared you, but it doesn’t stop the rising anxiety that bubbles in your throat like the chilly lake water had.

“Since when are you and the rookie on a first-name basis?” Branagh mumbles before quickly entertaining himself on the other side of the office.

“Are you okay? Louis said the suspect tried to drown you?” He asks again, worry practically dripping from his words. You take a moment. Are you actually okay?

“No. I’m not okay.” The words are whispered, so quiet that it’s a miracle that even Leon heard them. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth turning up in a reassuring smile before he speaks.

“How about I come over tonight? We can get take-out and watch a movie or something?” You nod, but the words spill from your lips before you can stop them, tears flooding your eyes as the fear becomes palpable on your face.

“I was so scared that I was gonna die…” Leon wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. Thump thump thump of his heartbeat in your ears, reminding you of how alive you still are. “I was worried I would never be able to tell you…”

“Tell me what?” His chin moves against the top of your head as he holds you.

“That I’m in love with you.”

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loustat (Spoilers) Pt1: Breakup

Trust me, Lestat wasn't thinking about your stupid suit, Louis. Yes, Carol Cutshall said the gold symbolized Louis as the sun that drew Lestat to him; but the main thing was him pulling that sword-cane on Paul. THAT is what might've changed things: PAUL. Most importantly, the what-if about Paul not having died, and what that might've changed or not (IMO, not much--Lestat would've just kept "hunting" Louis longer, till he found his chance).

At 50? Would Lestat have WANTED Lou? Doubtful. Louis would've been married with kids by then, desperately holding on to what little money he'd've gotten as a failed farmer & pimp (cuz he wouldn't've had the Azalea or Lestat's money); probably in debt just to keep the DPDL estate; even as his mom resented him, and Grace probably wouldn't've been able to marry Levi without a dowry, so who knows how she'd've acted. What SPARK would old!Lou have that would've even made Les interested in him? These questions are MOOT.

"Doomed by the narrative."

I'm still confused about Claudia's diaries, and where they were in 1973--I'm assuming this was just a lie fed by Armand that they were scattered b/t Paris & NOLA.

SKILL ISSUE. Louis ALWAYS has a contingency plan!

I'm so bummed we didn't get the Tower Scene, or get to physically SEE Lestat being tortured by Armand. But oh well, at least we get to see Magnus' Tower, and hear what Magnus told Lestat b4 Les was Turned.

And this is a crazy accurate line, considering Armand said that ordering the humans to say "Banishment" took all of his strength which I KNEW was a freaking lie! XD

You should see them in Dubai when Danwrecks Armand's whole set!

Les calling himself a disappointment--YOU ARE. (Nordic blondes, dirty blondes, and the worst one: a FRENCH blonde.) Chile, no one knows why you do what you do.

That's right, don't let him up for effing oxygen!

EXACTLY.

Lestat was turned on the whole time (who said that!?).

No one cares.

TRUE! That's the most honest thing Armand said all season, wow.

AKASHA NAME DROP, STFU LFG

Marius never told Armand about TWMBK for a reason--hed've spilled the beans quicker than Louis about "Bruce" being Lestat. XD But Lestat's bragging a little too much though--even MARIUS burned with Akasha's blood in him, so.... 🙄 They won't DIE, but it WILL eff them up.

CRAZY important line--strong(er) vampires have to be WILLING to die in the fire for it to stick? Like Lestat said in QotD: he will ALWAYS "fight for life."

That doesn't actually count for much when you've been regularly starving yourself since 1910. 🙄

What a way to go, lbh, these vamps are effing gorgeous.

PETTY BOOTS THE HOUSE DOWN! 😂

Yeah, about that--but FLEX!

Ouch

GO AWF, KING LOUIS! FLEXXXXXXX!

Louis said REPLACEMENTS!!! ALL the Antoine(tte)s and Davids and Quinns and whoever TF that bum was in NOLA--PALE PROXIES! And yes I AM taking that racially, too! The blacker the berry the sweeter the juice! 😜

Water in a sieve; don't worry. It's the PRINCIPLE of the thing--go sit in the corner for 70+ years and keep having "a think!"

YOU would know better than anyone!

Imma save the big reveal and the reunion for Pt2; I think I'm gonna hit the image limit soon.

[knives-and-narcissi]

Okay I saw this on a post on my recommended and decided to nick it because dhdjsjdjdjs THIS IS SO GOOOOD.

“put ur Spotify on shuffle and write down the first lyric of the first ten songs that come on, post the poem that results” (character playlist edition)

(Okay I tweaked slightly for some to include first two lines so it makes more sense but UM)

• William James Moriarty edition:

Time to put my medal on

Whose blood to spill?

Sick thoughts

We might just be unkind

Double, double, double

Down

I thought I saw the devil this morning

Looking in the mirror

Regrets collect like old friends

When I was a boy, I didn’t care ‘bout a thing

I can’t forget what we’ve been through now

Murder lives forever and so does war

This is the end, hold your breath and

Count to ten

A dozen crows and then some on the

Rhododendrons.

• Louis James Moriarty edition:

Draw the cat eyes sharp enough to kill a man

All my friends are heathens, take it slow

I’m in the rafters looking down

Are you insane like me?

Be careful making wishes in the dark

Our coming of age has come and gone

I don’t even know myself at all

I’ll make it through the rainy days

I’ll be the one who stands here longer than the rest

To carry on for you

(Screaming thanks for those last two Spotify??)

• Sherliam Edition: (I got carried away shutup)

Remember those walls I built?

Well baby they’re tumbling down

Wise men say, only fools rush in

These are the moments that mean the most

Feeling you closing in, brushing against my skin

I’m giving you a night call to tell you how I feel

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned

I wasn’t jealous before we met

I’ll sing it one last time for you

What would I do without your smart mouth.

Sun is gleaming on the water, nothing but the after in our gaze.

(Again WTF I am deceased)

Gonna tag a bunch of people because I adore this, feel free to ignore or if you’re not tagged you wanna jump in, please please do!

@xokiddo @hergan416 @user-needs-new-hyperfixation @methpring @alabaster-moon @tachikoma-x @memento-yuumori anyone else I missed I’m so sorry I suck remembering tumblr usernames LOL but join in!