#osao3

[larryfanfiction]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

by orphan_account

Louis is in sound engineering. Harry writes poetry. Social media is fate's tool of choice.

Ao3, One-shot

[larryfanfiction]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

by i-wanna-be-your-last

In the ten years since they graduated Hogwarts, Louis has established himself as one of the best Quidditch players in England. For the first time in decades, the English National Team makes it to the World Cup Championship, and Louis struggles to suppress his nerves in the lead up to the biggest game of his career.

Ao3, One-Shot, Sequel to: The Muggle Studies Project

[larryfanfiction]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

by larrycaring

"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things that they find most attractive, even if the person doesn't acknowledge or is unaware of their fondness for the object of their affection themselves."

(...)

Louis looks down at his own container inspecting it suspiciously, as if the liquid could turn into a creature and absorb him. He bends his head down a bit, and Louis' nostrils are filled with the most comforting scents he has ever inhaled. Somehow, it reminds him of home, something rich and warm, something he strangely feels familiar with, but he can't quite place it. He also has the feeling he smells burnished copper.

He inhales more deeply and then he can smell apple and cinnamon, and he really does not understand. He moves back and frowns. If it was up to Louis, he would not mind inhaling the odour forever.

Ao3, One-Shot

[larryfanfiction]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

by vanityscare

And Louis knows what flavour Harry is. Harry's flavour is quick, stolen kisses in the X-Factor house; it's long summer nights spent lying on the lawn in their back yard, pretending to be star gazing in spite of the all-consuming city lights; it's tingling laughs muffled by colliding lips; it's soft skin gone hot from clumsy, frantic sex; it's a never-ending series of fights, some petty and pointless, others not; it's tears pooling in Harry's eyes after another, "No" from Louis. It's a lost love shot into space by a wobbly bottle rocket and swallowed by a black hole just when it was on the brink of landing on a star.

(Or, the one where Harry and Louis haven't had an easy time co-existing as band mates since their breakup right before the release of Take me home and have no desire to give into the insistent pressure put on their shoulders by the universe to pry open old wounds.)

Ao3, Oneshot