in which harry is a hot-shot columnist for new york's most popular lifestyle/fashion magazine. he has his dream job, he thinks, but he's constantly sad and stuck in the past. then he meets the moon; or a girl named luna. finally, someone who gets him. if only she would just let him adore her. » [non-lowercase] This is an AU story with no affiliation with Harry Styles. Story contains Mature and Explicit content CONTENT WARNING: This story contains mentions of death or dying, disowning, hospitalization, illness, loss of loved one, mental illness, needles, and pills. » #1 line #1 fineline #1 hes #1 literature #1 harryedwardstyles #2hsau #4 harrystyles #4 fine #5 adore you » COMPLETED

"Please Harry! I promise I won't do anything ever again, just please don't hurt me," I beg as I look into his now dark eyes. I see him pull out a scarf, as involuntary tears start to stream down my cheeks. "Don't worry babe. I'm not going to kill you," he says as he brings up his big hand to my face and uses his thumb to wipe away a tear. "I am only going to make you wish that you were dead," he whispers devilishly into my ear. || Annabel Fleming is finally getting a week off from her stressful college life. When she runs into Harry, a strange mysterious guy with dark hair, green eyes, and odd clothes. She somehow ends up waking up on a colorless island and not knowing how to escape.|| *This story contains dark and mature content. You will get no other warning.*

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.

Raine never liked overconfident people, and Harry never liked judgemental ones. But when everything around them isn't what it seems to be, all they need is each other to make it out alive. • • • "Keep your eyes open thunderstorm, because everyone here has their own agenda and you might be interested in some of them." 18/04/20 #1 in harrystyles 6/11/19 #156 in fanfiction

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.*

[COMPLETED] Bentley Hale is the best street racer in the Bay Area, but everything changes when she becomes wrapped up with Harry Styles, the new official racer for the Oakland Kings gang. Bentley's got a wicked mind and the attitude to match, but so does Harry. Money, murder, family, love, gangs, drugs, sex, cars, California... what could possibly go wrong? ----------------------- this book contains violence, mature/dark themes, explicit sexual content including kink, and the use of profanity.