Larry Fanfic Recs

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Louis has been living peacefully on his home planet of Dononter Minor for years before he's kidnapped by a group of pirates that call themselves The Blades of Orion. It seems that them, along with another powerful syndicate called The Black Suns, are hunting for the last holocron, a crystal which stores information on force techniques and instruction manuals for force users. It's said that whoever possesses the knowledge of the crystal can rule the galaxy. Unfortunately, the crystal is imbedded in Louis's forehead.

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?”

“Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand.

Hi, pretty sure your thinking of 

It's not that Louis is a pessimist. No. He's just not really a half glass full kind of guy. He's more of a realist...is all. He feels old. Old and un-bonded and that's...well, that's just how it is. And then...Then everything changes.

Louis is definitely fine and Lottie is definitely crushing on her French teacher, and these two things have nothing to do with each other. Except they do. And Louis is not fine.

“They’re not my best pictures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, I think you look quite good being manhandled by a bigger man.”

Louis chokes on his sip of hot chocolate, feeling it burn its way down his throat. He coughs a few times and then clears his throat. “I’m sorry?!”

"Capt’n Styles, are you certain of this? They be attracted to man-made light."

"What is? Sharks?" The young blonde asks in terror.

"Worse than sharks, lad. There'll be flesh eating mermaids upon us in minutes, mark my words!” Paul huffs as he continues to wave the bright lantern in front of him, “And captain Styles here, has us bait!”

When he decided to move to London with his sister, Harry thought he would finally get to learn how to control his magic. He couldn't possibly have predicted that he would fall for her neighbour.

It's about respecting the night and the reason they've come together. It's a rite of passage, as it were, a symbol of status, and that's the only thing that keeps Louis from skiving off and going for a run with Liam.

And he knows Lottie would chew off his left arm if he kept her away from the first All Hallows' Ball she's eligible for. So he keeps himself plastered to her side as soon as they step into the foyer, works hard at keeping his claws at bay once they're behind enemy lines. It’s a hard habit to unlearn, but he’s trying.

Louis likes an armistice as much as the next lad, but until he sees some sort formal treaty, he generally trusts the vamps about as far as he can throw them. Which is, admittedly, quite far, but not far enough. He's here to represent the pack, and that's all. He won't pick a fight. But he will finish one if it starts, he has to. The war resumes at sunrise anyway.

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.