// "Shit Flower, I miss you." // In which a former drug dealer who fell in love with the bosses' daughter finds himself still loving her. [sequel to flower]

// "...Harry? I thought you went home." "Turns out home isn't a place anymore, Flower." // In which a drug dealer takes on more than he bargained for when he's assigned to look after the bosses' daughter.

[ COMPLETED ] Neither of them knew one night could change everything. ✼ ✼ ✼ For mature audiences only. Story contains sexual content and vulgar language so read at your own risk! COPYRIGHT © 2015, stylescloud All rights reserved, please don't copy and/or steal my story!

"Hey, Sierra" he said, wetting his cherry lips with his tongue while staring at me, a somewhat amused look in his green irises. And in that moment, I realised that I was screwed. [BOOK TWO - read Artwork first] 2/11/19 #86 in fanfiction

"Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away. [BOOK ONE] [BOOK TWO - AQUARELLE] Started: Feb 2018 Completed: April 2019 18/01/19 #1 in fanfiction 28/09/18 #1 in harrystyles 06/10/18 #1 in harry • THE FICTION AWARDS WINNER 2019 - BEST FANFICTION •

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

*female reader insert fic* You and Harry exist in the same friend group--and barely tolerate each other. Each night out is filled with snarky comments and arguments that go quickly from mumbled insults so full on fighting--even after he kisses you. An enemies to lovers fic filled with banter, fashion, sex, and major angst. *This was (and is) originally posted on Tumblr, by me, harrystylescherry (aka nat). I'm putting it on here so that it's easier to read as the parts are pretty long!* [there's been an influx of people adding this fic to "one shot/short story" reading lists and uh...yes this fic is only 7 parts but its about 150k words so its novel length lol it is not a short read i just wanted to let everyone know]

[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.

To love a psycho, a psycho you must become. // COMPLETED // {WARNING: This fiction contains extreme violence, drug abuse, explicit sexual content and features strong language not suitable for minors. Discretion is advised.}

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.