18+ / Very Mature "Please, this is like cliche-central. With a kinky twist." ††† I step under the hot stream of water, soaking my hair, and take a deep breathe. I try and clear my mind, focusing on the way the water feels hitting my body. I turn around, opening my eyes, only to shout out a curse and stumble back. Emma is directly in front of me, taking off her tank top, eyes glued to my body. I hadn't shut the curtains, thinking no one would be in here, and I didn't know if I was happy or mad I did that. I stood there speechless as her small hands grasped the bottom of her sports bra. I inhaled sharply when she pulled it up and over her head, exposing her breasts. They jiggled slightly as she tossed her clothes to the side, and I found my heart rate quickening at an alarming rate. "W-what are you doing?" I breathe out as she pulls her leggings down her body, leaving her in just a thong. "Showering." Emma tells me as if it's obvious.

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of asking random useless questions that we've been going back and forth with for the past half hour. I stare at my feet swinging back and forth, looking down at the alleyway behind the building; pondering the question over in my head that I often wonder too much about. I glance over to Harry when he doesn't answer straight away and he's watching me with a look I can't read. "Unless you were a bird or could fly, it would just feel like falling. Because you'd know you were going to hit the ground" he decides to answer, staring at me like he's somewhat bothered that I asked him that. I look back down at the ground, and shrug my shoulders, "I think if you didn't care about hitting the ground it could feel like flying for a few seconds." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ STARTED 11TH MARCH 2019 - ONGOING

*Mature and Explicit Content* "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?" ---------- I watch as Harrys breathing shallows, his eyes glazing over as his brows furrow "You really want that?" I nod without missing a beat, assuring him "I really do, is that okay with you?" "Fuck Joey, how wouldn't it be okay with me? There's no way I could possibly say no to that, I just can't believe that's what you want" he strains out, the worry in his face being washed over with a drunk look in his eyes. I hold my breath, pulling myself up to look down at him, trailing my eyes down his bare torso and back to his face as I feel excitement I've never felt before jolt through me "Well I do, so show me Harry, show me what feels good for you" ---------- Book Started : DEC 2018 - ONGOING

Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*

18+ / Very Mature The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

18+ / Very Mature "Madison." "I need you." My voice is thick with emotion, quivering slightly at the thought of rejection. I didn't know if Harry wanted to take this further, if I was the only one feeling this level of longing. He takes his forehead away from mine and stares into my eyes, brows furrowed, "You need me?" His voice was full of disbelief, like the thought that I was pining for him in that way was impossible. "I need you." I repeat unwaveringly.

Eileen Mae Montgomery, better known as El has been working for the Gucci special designs team for two years now. It's her dream job, but theres one thing she hates about it. The rude, narcissist celebrities. When she is assigned to work with Harry Styles to brainstorm and create his tour suits for his second world tour as a solo artists she was going to treat it as she would any other job assignment. That is until he asked her and some members of her team to join him on tour. El's was going to treat him the same as any other celebrity, but Harry had other ideas. She styled his clothes, but he didn't care about the clothes she put on him, he was more interested in what would come after the show, when the sequins and fun colors turned into a pile on the floor. EXCERPT: "I like you El." "Stop saying that. Stop saying you like me." He drops his hands, looking to me in confusion. "So you want me to lie?" He asks, smirking at my annoyance. "No I'd rather you keep it to yourself." I take my phone out , my annoyance rising, his smirk growing. "You've got three minutes before I leave, so talk." I tell him. "You're timing our conversations now?" He laughs a bit. "Two and a half minutes." "Okay fine. You don't show any interest in me unless we're..." His voice trails off, and I roll my eyes. "Unless we're sleeping together... yes, and your point?" COMPLETED!

"They say insanity is trying the same thing but expecting something new" - Anson Seabra. SEQUEL TO STYLIST El kept telling him it was only meant to be for one night. She kept that mentality, or tried to. Harry didn't believe one bit of the front she put up so he fought hard. Right when he had her...he pushed her away. Through heart break and confusion that neither of them expected they found each other again, but can they make it work, or were they truly doomed from the start? EXCERPT: "When someone like me feels pain, or happiness or anything for that matter, I take it and I go with it... I use it as inspiration." He tells me. "So you wrote a song about me?" I ask, feeling my hands fumble as I try not to act as nervous as I feel while waiting for the answer. "The whole album is about you..." he tells me, and I realize he's more nervous than I am. I broke his heart... we broke each other's heart, and now all we can do is pick up the broken pieces... or try to.

You ask if we can still be friends I explain how a honeybee does not dream of kissing the mouth of a flower and then settle for its leaves

"Come on Harry, just take a chance on this. On us." •••••• This book will contain mature themes. Including sexual content, substance use, and mention of mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.