Larry Stylinson One-Shots

Angst: Refers to a genre of stories with prevalent physical or, mainly, emotional torment of characters.

Smut: A writting style that is sexually explicit. Erotic fiction.

Fluff: A fanfiction in which the story has no plot. Only humourous or romantic nonsense.


17. #16

Doesn't have a title °\()/°

*Written by Horaann on Tumblr*

Louis watches from the corner of the run-down nightclub. He watches as Harry grind up against someone else. A messed up whore who’ll do anything for a bit of sex.

He sips his pint slowly as he watches, the jealousy glinting in his blue eyes. Harry’s snaking his arms around her front, touching her. She’s throwing her head back into the crook of his neck and laughing drunkenly.

Harry latches onto her exposed neck and sucks seductively. Louis is trembling with rage. He wants to go over and slap the bitch across the face and drag Harry away. He wants to show Harry exactly what he’s missing every night.

But he can’t.

Louis turns his gaze to the small cluster of papparazi pushing through the crowd on the dancefloor. The flashes from their camera’s look like added strobelighting to the cheap lights attatched to the clubs ceiling. He wishes he’d stayed home with Liam.

"Hey!" An Irish voice shakes him from his thoughts. Louis turns to see Niall clutching to the edge of the table, an empty pint glass in hand. He’s trying to steady himself. It isn’t working. The blonde wobbles furiously on the spot before collapsing on the floor. His face screws up and his mouth opens wide to let out a loud laugh.

"Niall." Louis rolls his eyes and hops off his seat to haul the Irish lad up.

"Oh my God, Louis! I can do it myself!" Niall protests, pushing Louis off him. The minute the feathery haired boy lets go, Niall’s straight back down to the floor again. He’s thrashing around.

"For God’s sake Niall, get up!" Louis shouts, angered. Niall lets himself be dragged up and propped on the stool opposite Louis’. After positioning the intoxicated boy, Louis sits himself back down. He spares a glance at Niall who’s eyes are half-lidded and who’s face is sporting a giddy smile between hicupps. The blonde leans forward across the table.

"Hey, Lou." He whispers.

"What?" Louis responds, unamused.

"I don’t think my legs work today." Niall leans back and prods at his legs. "Oh my god, my legs aren’t working!"

He snaps his neck up to meet Louis’ gaze. The brunette is actually surpised to see Niall close to tears. The Irish lad genuinely believes his legs aren’t working.

"Louis, my legs! Help me!" Niall clutches at his thighs desperately.

"Lou-" He stops talking and leans back over the table. His eyes close and he lands on the wood with a dull thud.

Great, Louis thinks, he’ll have to carry Niall home now. He’ll be all over the morning papers.

Louis makes to go and throw Niall over his shoulder when a large hand grabs at his arm. He turns around to meet Harry, he can smell the alcohol on his breath. Attatched to his forearm is the girl from before. She’s twiddling her blonde hair through her fingers, obviously numbed by alcohol.

"Harry we’re going." Louis comments dryly, tugging out of the green-eyed boys grasp and hauling Niall up.

"Oh but the fun hasn’t started yet!" Harry complains, nudging the girl and winking. She widens her eyes and shoots him a dumb look. She’s so far gone.

"Leave her." Louis commands and Harry pouts.

"But we ha-"

"I said fucking leave her!" Louis shouts over the thudding of the bass. Harry narrows his eyes and turns to whisper in the girls ear. She giggles and leaves. Harry makes sure to squeeze her bum before she departs.

"Out, now." Louis gestures towards the door. The three slowly push through the crowd, the paps following them. They all mutter lowly about the drunken state of Niall who is slung over Louis’ shoulder, eyes closed and limbs limp. Harry trips and falls a few times only to be pushed onwards by Louis with his free arm, the one that isn’t supporting the blonde on his shoulder.

Once the three are successfully outside, the crisp air bites are their skin. The sound of scurrying footsteps eminates from the group of paps hot on their trail.

Louis doesn’t mean to turn around and snap but he does.

"Hey look, I’m sure you’ve got a decent picture of Niall to plaster over the front page tomorrow." He spits. "Now kindly fuck off."

Harry twists around to shoot Louis a dissaproving glare.

"They’ll have that quote next to picture too now, babe." He laughs. He trips over his own feet and has to be hauled back up by Louis.

"So will that."


"Liam!" Louis shouts, kicking open the door with his foot. Halfway home Harry decided to pass out and Louis had to haul him over his other shoulder. "Liam, help me!"

Not really caring, Louis dumps the pair on the floor as he turns around to click the door back into place. Seconds later and Liam is on the scene, rubbing his tired eyes. It must be late.

"Oh Jesus Christ." He groans, hauling Niall up and slinging him over his shoulder. "I’ll deal with this idiot and you deal with that one." He points at Harry. He turns on his heels and carrys Niall to his room.

Louis looks at Harry. He rolls his eyes. He sure as hell isn’t carrying him. He rakes his fingers through his hair and bends down next to Harry.

"Wake up." He says bluntly, shaking his shoulders. "Wake up you little shit." Louis is in no mood for games.

"Mmm-no." Harry gurgles, his eyelids fluttering open.

"Styles, get up or you can sleep here."

"Sleep here."

"Fine." Louis mumbles, "Prick."


Harry’s woken up by the feeling of something hitting his face. He’s instantly met by a booming headache and a churning stomach. He holds his head as he pushed himself up to sitting position. He’s still in his clothes from the day before and he must have slept on the floor opposite the door. Looking down, he notices what hit him. A newspaper. He turns to see an angry looking Louis looming over him.

"All over the front page." He mumbles curtly. "Oh and page 6 to 8 is dedicated just to you."

"Fuck." Harry sighs, picking up the paper. On the front page, he notices Niall hanging loosely off Louis shoulder and next to that picture he sees himself dancing with a slutty looking girl. Wanting to know more, he flicks to page 6 and scans the pictures. One of him falling over. Another of him throwing up in the middle of the road. He turns the page. A photo of Louis trying to haul him onto his shoulder. Another picture of Harry flipping off the papparazi. Last but of course not least, a huge picture of Harry sprawled out across the grubby floor just after he’d thrown up.

"Well done, idiot." And it’s not Louis’ voice this time, it’s Liam’s.

"All of you." He even shoots a glare at Louis. "I told you all to stay home ‘cause we had interveiws today. Now two of you are hungover and the other is in a pissy mood." Louis grumbles under his breath. At that moment, Niall emerges around the corner in his boxers. He rubs his eyes and clutches his head.

"I don’t remember anything." He mentions as Harry hands him the newspaper. He widens his eyes at the image. "Oh for fuck sake."

"Why didn’t you take us home, Lou?" Harry complains and Louis loses his cool.

"Do not fucking blame this one on me!" He seethes. "You got drunk, not me. I didn’t have to carry you both home but I did. I could have left Niall passed out on the table and I could have let you take that girl in the darkest corner of the club and fuck her brains out. All in front of the cameras."

Harry frowns and Niall ducks his head in shame.

"Get ready, both of you." Liam gestures to Harry and then Niall.


There’s a small knock on Louis’ door before it opens a crack. Harry pokes his head in. It’s been a long day. Interveiws.

"Boo bear?" Harry whispers.

"Go away." Louis mutters but Harry persists.

"No, can I come in? Can we cuddle?"

"No, go find that girl and cuddle with her."

"Please." Harry’s voice cracks and Louis looks up. His eyes are threatening to well up with tears, he notices.

"Don’t cry." Louis says. "Don’t you dare." He’s still mad at Harry. He doesn’t want to forgive him yet. If Harry crys Louis will have to pepper him with ‘I’m sorry’ kisses and hold him close.

But Harry does. He crumples. He screws his face up and hangs his head. Louis can see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I am so fucking sorry." He sobs, leaning against the door frame. Louis looks down before sighing deeply.

"Get in here." He whispers, pulling Harry through the door and clicking it shut after him. Harry throws himself into Louis’ arms and nestles his head into Louis’ neck. Louis can feel his warm tears on his skin. He can feel Harry’s breath hitching as he sobs into Louis.

"Louis please don’t be mad at me. I fucked up, I know. I am so sorry." He cries. Hard. He begs and pleads Louis to forgive him. "I’m a terrible person. Please don’t be mad."

Louis tugs him in tighter as Harry sobs. He rests his chin on Harry’s head and sways slightly.

"Shhh. It’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m here." He coo’s as Harry shivers beneath him.

"You are mad. I’m s-so sor-ry." He sob, his breath hitching. "I f-fucked up s-so b-badly"

"Harry, shhhh."

"And I-I… I love y-you so mu-much." Harry buries his face deeper into Louis’ neck and Louis can feel his own tears prick at his eyes. "I love you, Louis. I’m in love with you."

Louis’ sure he can feel his heart stop. He presses a kiss to Harry’s curls and holds him tighter.

"I love you too, Haz." Louis says, tears rolling down his own cheeks. "I’m in love with you too. Please don’t cry, Harry." And Harry pulls back to look at Louis. His cheeks are tear-stained and his eyes are red and puffy. He cups Louis’ cheeks and looks into his blue eyes. He opens his mouth to speak but crumples again. He hangs his head as he lets the sobs wrack him. And that’s when Louis wraps his arms around the trembling boy and leads him to Louis’ bed.

Harry climbs under the sheets and Louis follows. He holds Harry as he cries. He holds him tight as he buries his face into Louis’ chest. Louis rubs small circles onto the small of Harry’s back and Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ middle and fists the material of his shirt. Harry doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to let go. He wants to hold onto Louis forever. Show him how much he loves him.

"I love you." Harry mumbles.

"Stop, go to sleep." Louis whispers, peppering his curly locks with chaste kisses.

"No Louis," Harry breathes into Louis’ chest. "I love you so much and I want you to be mine forever. I don’t want to ever make you angry or sad or hurt. I want you to be happy every day. I need you to be happy everyday. I want to make you happy." Louis can feel himself crying again.

"You do make me happy." He says softly.

"I want you to always know that I love you. You don’t have to love me back because I’m such an idiot and I fuck things up. But I’m in love with you and I want to make you the happiest guy alive."

"You do, Harry. No-body is perfect. I love you so much that it hurts. All I want to do is be there for you and kiss away all your hurt, Harry."



“You’re perfect.”


This one seems short but it's cute:)

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