HL FIC LIBRARY ā¤ AUTHOR REC
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1ļøā£ Fucking AnimalsĀ {E, 116k}
āJust, off the record,ā she says, voice lower, eyes sharper, crook of her mouth quirking up a little, ādonāt you ever miss it? A good knot? You must.ā
Louis blinks and then swallows, thickly. āNo,ā he exclaims, offended that sheād even ask, āI love my husband. And anyway, how could I miss something Iāve never had?ā
Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don't necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she's just settling for less, is bullshit.
2ļøā£ Where We BelongĀ {E, 118k}
They had it all. Reasonable flat, reasonable money, (somewhat) reasonable friends and love beyond all reason.
They were perfect. Louis thought.
3ļøā£ Maybe One Day {E, 60k}
āIād like to say welcome to you all, old friends and as well as new, Iām honoured that youāve come and that weāre all embarking on this as first-timerās together,ā Liam says, raising a glass. Theyāre all sat cross-legged in a circle on the livingroom-rug that Louis and Zayn rolled out just half an hour ago, with champagne in plastic-cups and Niall plinging intermittently on a badly strung guitar. Like a proper sixties hippie commune. Like what they are now, Louis supposes, give or take fifty years. āCheers to our new family! Let it be a happy one!ā
When Louis and the majority of his friends agree to live together in one big house in Manchester, the idea seems crazy, but like a great opportunity.
Louis just forgets to factor in the issue of living a bit too closely with people that he's always wanted even closer than that. Mainly Harry, that is.
4ļøā£ Every breath you take {E, 68k}
Thereās noise on the other side of the door. A chair, screeching against wood floors. Then footsteps, stumbling closer. Someone comes marching in, eyes trained on Liam, and pushes him aside to turn the thing off with a swift flick of a switch.
Louisā heart leaps into his throat.
He grips the duvet thatās been bunched up at the foot of the bed and yanks it up around himself. Maybe itās too much movement too fast because he goes dizzy, black dots speckling his vision.
When Harry finally turns around, Louis thinks heās about to pass out. What the fuck. What the fuck.
āWe couldnāt go anywhere else,ā Louis thinks he hears Liam say, beneath the current of his own blood rushing through his ears. āLouis? Lou?ā
When Liam finds Louis alone in a feral state outside his home, he can't bring him home for fear of Louis harming his own omega partner. He can't alert authorities or go to a shelter, as documented feral spells function like black spots on a persons record for the rest of their lives. In the end, he can only think of one possible safe location to bring Louis to; Harry's. But Louis and Harry haven't spoken in three years. Not since the night everything came crashing down between them.
5ļøā£ The window to the soul {E, 6k}
If they were the sort of couple who could do things half-way, who could accept that two months without each other meant two months of having other people throw themselves at them relentlessly while being utterly depraved of physical intimacy, and that maybe, just maybe, one might have a little slip-up with some meaningless model, perhaps itād be easier. But then, if they were that sort of couple, that would mean being able to accept the mere thought of someone else touching Louis without wanting to rip his own guts out and Harry knows himself, at this point, soā so, no. No, theyāre not that sort of couple; theyāre the sort that scream at each other all of last night because Harry spent two seconds chatting to the nice, polite girl at the beer-stand. Theyāre the sort that are too fucking stubborn not to have gotten over it by the morning, or by evening, or even by now, that Harryās just come off stage and needs that warm little body to hug him back down to earth.
harry comes off stage at iheart 2017 and really needs a bit of physical affection
š when the going gets tough {E, 2k}
He's sat in a lounge chair, in the heart of the party, just staring at his not-yet-boyfriend as he grinds on some footie player twice his size. Harry knows Louisā only doing it to piss him off, because he keeps glancing over when he thinks Harry wonāt catch it, but thatās not the part thatās making Harryās blood boil. Itās the fact that the guy behind Louis, bumping his crotch into Louisā arse in time with the music, thinks heās going to get it. Harry doesnāt know the guy, but he knows guys. Alphas. He knows that look heās sporting, all want, lust, almost smug. Self-satisfied. Harry digs his nails into the armrests of his chair when the guy snakes an arm around Louisā lower belly and licks his lips like he thinks heās about to get it. Heās not about to get it. Heās not.
Harry is going into unexpectedly early rut and right then, his new boyfriend Louis decides to be a dick and make him jealous.
