Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Rating: E
Words: 25k
Summary: Harry Styles is unlucky in love and unsuccessful in business, but he has a house with a blue door in his favourite neighbourhood, and a solid group of friends that make sure he never gets lonely. Louis Tomlinson is lucky in life and successful with singing, but the complications of the music industry prevent him from truly being himself. Their lives couldn't be more different. Will fate bring them together or will the complications of fame get in the way?
A Notting Hill AU
Written for @onedirectionbigbang Round 9 with incredible art by @punkpillowprincess!
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this Kinktober I think ao3 users should celebrate being the only fanfic platform that’s censorship free and write the most freaky, perverted, diabolical smut they possibly can
The first lines of some amazing fics by some of my favorite 1D writers! Since I’ve done this post for so many years, I've limited this one to fics that were published in the last year or so. Please check out the past years’ lists here where you’ll find even more incredible writers!
City lights block out the stars.
The first time that Louis’ alarm goes off, he hits the snooze button.
Every time he climbs back down the ladder and steps back to get a better look, the sign is crooked.
Louis hears the front door open and continues scrolling through his Instagram.
The kitchen in the back of “Josie’s Pie Diner” is Harry’s safe space.
The Fung Wah bus was sometimes a bit of a shit show, but it was the cheapest way to get from New York City back to Louis’ home town of Boston so she’d forced herself to adapt to it pretty quickly.
“Ow! Motherfuck—”
“Hello?” It's tentative, the voice.
Louis opens her eyes to greet the familiar sight of her bedroom ceiling; the one that’s been in the same place for years, giving her the feeling that it’s about to tell her something new.
Recording begins, 11:25 am.
Harry woke up before the alarm.
Louis isn’t gay.
Oli came running into Louis’ bedchamber, eager to tell him what he’d overheard.
Niall Horan has a dream.
It all started in a hotel room on a vacation.
The Lobby in Portofino shimmers with its gold-plated decor, diamond chandeliers, and the million-dollar jewels embroidered upon the bodies of the soiree.
“Think anyone will remember your name in twenty years?”
A low tone rings through Louis’ ears as he stumbles his way down the hall between admin and the specimen room, the scent of the chemical decontamination spray invading his nose.
The moment immediately preceding an orgasm is Harry's favorite place to exist.
Amy and Jonny left at half nine, kissing Harry on the cheek once each, before Jonny patted him on the shoulder and said, "Things will look up next year, H."
“They need you in the conference room, Lou,” Niall says as his head pops around the door to Louis’ lab.
“So, that’s it, is it? It’s over? Just like that? Because you said so?”
On a random midsummer day, Louis Tomlinson steps onto the balcony of his first-story flat like he’s done a hundred times before.
“Will you marry me?” Harry asks, kneeling before Louis, hand upraised with the open ring box presented, his smile wobbles as his eyes tear up.
Harry is aware that he’s been likened to Mick Jagger a lot in the past, but specifically reprising his part in honor of Live Aid seems like a bit too much.
Harry groaned, fumbling with his key and trying to unlock his apartment while Louis slipped his hands beneath his shirt and squeezed his waist.
The meeting room is quiet in the way operational spaces inside airports often are.
I'm trying to ignore the intense smell of coconut leather wipes as I stare out the window of the car.
Nick didn't get what all the fuss was about with the eighties.
Louis takes a sip of his lukewarm tea.
Louis raises his hand to knock on the door in front of him, but before his knuckles make contact, he jerks it back down again.
He read the text one last time.
Little raindrops start to fall on Harry’s face, and it startles him from his daydreaming.
If you asked him, Louis Tomlinson could recall every important detail from his sixteen year old’s life.
Harry has brought home a painting.
Harry doesn’t have the heart to tell Louis that the daughter he lulls to sleep every night is not real.
I don’t know how to say this without it sounding like I’m begging, and you know me, Louis, I won’t ever beg for anything.
“YES IT WAS!” Louis practically yells.
Harry Styles. @Harry_Styles In LA and getting thirsty.
Slumping into a chair, Louis dumped his backpack in front of him with a sigh and took a sip of his still too hot latte.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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