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What My Tongue Burns To Tell You
“And thus may kindred spirits feel, though tone of voice be never heard,
The sweet impassioned eloquence, the magic of unspoken words.”
It’s nearing 2 A.M. in London on a Monday morning. The sky is dark, no stars shining in the city sky, but of course there’s light coming from everywhere else. The dim illumination casts a dusty-yellow glow over the ( Read more... ) -
It's Just Sweeter When It's Wrong...
Warning Larry smut; Incest (brothers); slight, not-detailed mentions of het-sex (very slight memories).
It’s not until after Harry’s 15th birthday that he realizes what he so desperately wants.
It’s cold outside, and it’s dark, and it’s getting late, and he’s just laying there on his bed, thinking. His hands rest on his stomach- or, at least one ( Read more... ) -
All I Need- Styles Twins
Warning: Styles Twins/ Mature/ Twincest/ Smut/ Sorrynotsorry.
“Hey Eddie?” Harry calls from the next room. Ed grunts and takes the guitar pick from between his teeth to answer “Yeah, Haz?” He lays his guitar down on the bed, stands, and takes a couple of steps toward Harry’s room, before his brother pops up in the doorway, working a t-shirt down ( Read more... ) -
Let 'em Say What They Want, They Don't Know What We've Got- Styles Twins
Warning: Incest; Twincest; Styles Twins; Smut
Nightmares were Edward’s weak spot. Nightly, sometimes, he’d be jarred awake in a cold sweat, eyes watery, even sick to his stomach in fear.
Harry hated that: hated hearing the stifled sobs that rippled through his twin. They had this connection, and when his brother hurt, he hurt, and vice-versa. It ( Read more... ) -
Morning, Lover
The sun’s just barely shining through the slits of the window shades when Harry’s eyes flutter open. He’s wrapped up in the warmth of a red comforter that doesn’t belong to him, but might as well. It doesn’t take him long to recognize the heat pressed all along his back, legs tangled in his, hands warm against his stomach. Now he realizes what’s ( Read more... ) -
Home Run
It didn’t start out as an accident.
Okay, it kind of did… but not the way you think.
Harry’s always been taller than louis. Duh. He knows that, Lou knows that, so do the other three boys. To be fair, they all are; they’re all younger than Louis, and actually, the older they get, the taller they get. All except for Lou.
They’re all taller, and that ( Read more... ) -
Sometimes It's Prettier, Ruined
Louis’s all stretched out and sated on “his” side of Harry’s bed, and he feels like he’s basically melted into the softness of the duvet underneath him, and Harry’s all soft and hot, pressed into his side, and his soft lips are ghosting over Louis’s exposed neck, and Louis has to close his eyes to just relish in the feeling for a moment, and this ( Read more... ) -
But It's Worth It...
He’s already stretched out, and so, so sore. He’s got this ache where he’s been invaded, and he’s got a deeper one where he’d been pounded so hard, fucked right down into the soft foam of his mattress, and he can barely move right now, because it’s been just so fucking long since he’s had it, and he knows he won’t walk right for at least a couple ( Read more... ) -
All Okay
It’s hot. So, so hot, and all he can smell is Louis, and all he can see is blue: like oceans of emotion spread out before him, because Louis’s eyes are red-rimmed and wet and glassy and his eyelashes are wet, and his cheeks are flushed and stained with salty tracks. He figures he must look much the same, though, maybe with a bit of black under his ( Read more... ) -
Unwritten II
Warning: Mature; smutty, smutty.
He freezes instantly, his hands losing their hold on Louis biceps and slipping down off his arms.
He knows, Louis thinks, and he doesn’t even know how he’ll defend himself, or what he’ll say to justify the fact that Harry knows that he’s been snooping in his room, reading his most private thoughts.
He doesn’t get ( Read more... )