Yield. The word haunted me long before I even understood why. It wasn't about surrender, exactly. Not the kind that made you weak. It was more like... permission. Permission to feel, permission to let someone else in without detonating everything around you. But what happens when you yield, and the person you let in disappoints you? Betrays you? When yielding turns into exposure, and every vulnerability you offered becomes a weapon pointed back at you? Let me tell you: that's when yield stops feeling like permission and starts feeling like punishment.

❝Been dreaming about me again, Indigo?❞ ••• [H.S.] - enemies to lovers

❝I don't need your real name. I don't need you to be honest about anything, except how you feel. Think you can do that?❞ -- Becoming a first-year student is the perfect excuse for Riley to leave her hometown behind and start over in Boston. Anonymous, and free from a past she refuses to be haunted by. But an impulse one-night stand that is meant to be meaningless, becomes the very thing that threatens her fresh start before she can give her new life a chance.

you can let it go you can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family, 'cause they never showed you love you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up ~~~~ I look over at her, her eyes gleaming, "What is this?" All she does is admire her creation in front of her for a moment; the three cairns lined up side by side next to each other. When she finally turns to me, I can tell her eyes are glossy from tears welling up at her waterline. "I'm making my own family." ~~~~ A story in which a girl struggling with trauma falls in love with a boy that is too. Can they help pull each other out of the hole they've dug or will they bury themselves even deeper? DO NOT COPY MY WORK © copyrighted 2025 ~~~~ highest ratings: #1 in fineline #1 in hslot #1 in soloharrystyles #1 in zaynmalik #1 in louistomlinson #1 in styles #1 in onedirection #2 in harrystyles #5 in harryedwardstyles #7 in 1direction -- started: February 17th, 2025 ended: (ongoing)

It was only supposed to be one night. One stupid night. One broken heart. One dimpled boy. And half a bottle of tequila. One night was all it took to turn her whole world upside down. EXCERPT FROM ONE NIGHT: Harry laughed softly into her mouth, "That's a good sound." He pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a piece of hair out of her face with a tenderness that made her chest ache. He looked at her like he saw her, really saw her. And she'd never known what that felt like until now. "Beautiful," he whispered. Mae blushed-actually blushed-and tried to cover her face with her hands. Harry grinned, catching her wrists and tugging them gently away. "Uh-uh. I wanna see." She was already a puddle. He kissed her again, pinning her hands above her head this time, and the shift in power made her pulse race. His mouth moved to her neck, soft and slow, making her shiver. "When do you leave?" he murmured, kisses trailing toward her collarbone. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Train's at one. It's just after ten now." Harry smirked, lifting his head. "Plenty of time, then."

Ally and Harry, two complete opposites. What happens when you put the most popular girl in school and her tutor together? A short story about what happens when two people from different social standings come together for more than just a late night study session. *This story contains mature and explicit content*

[MATURE CONTENT / 18+] In which Harry has to follow school-mandated therapy for having intercourse in a public space and defiling school property, and Mia is the fellow student who gets assigned to be his therapist. A short story in seven parts, followed by long continations in the form of one shots in which we continue to follow Mia and Harry.

Not everything can be healed by a medicine. ~~~ "Who are you, Harry Styles?" The smirk on his face disappeared and he turned extremely serious. His face was so cold that it kinda scared me. "You don't want to know, darling." ~~~ Kennedy Simmons is a twenty-years-old girl who has nothing in this world except for her exceptionally high intelligence. Her whole life changes completely when she witnesses something that she shouldn't have and she is abducted by a mysterious man with green eyes who keeps changing everything around her, including herself. What will happen when her curious side wins over her logical side and she decides to find out more about this intriguing man? What if they're more alike than they initially thought? What if she's more involved in everything than they thought? What if he isn't the villain of the story? // The story contains mature themes. Read at your own risk.

*this story contains mature and explicit content.* [on going] rules, secrets, and lies all get uncovered eventually. and then what remains is the broken pieces of something that once was everything, but now is nothing. // "And what am I?" Then he smirks, and it's nothing but bitter. I know his next words are gonna be everything he's been wanting to say from the moment he met me. "Nothing," his are eyes on mine. "you're nothing." he means it. I smile because he least expects it. I lean forward like he did, matching his movements. I take a good look at him, his scars, his bruises. And I know the only difference between his and mine is that mine are invisible. "And what are you, any better?" His smirk remains, his eyes cold, his words uncaring. "I'm glad you're finally starting to catch on." he reminds me we're the same. // ** Set in the 90's.

[MATURE/EXPLICIT CONTENT] I'm fucked. Like genuinely, properly, jaw-clenchingly fucked. She's in my head. Way too deep. Like I've just been rewired or some shit and now every time I blink I see her eyes: one lighter than the other, both shining like she's already figured out the ending to the story and is just waiting for me to catch up. It's like she was made for me. Like someone carved her out of fire and velvet and chaos and said: Here. This one. She's yours. It's fucking overwhelming. But she's mine. And God help whoever fucking forgets that. __ "Mine," I mutter. "Every inch of you." My hand slides up her throat, thumb brushing her jaw. "That mouth? Mine. That body? Mine. That attitude? Mine." I lean in, lips to her ear. "Say it, Carmen." She shivers. "I'm yours." "Damn right you are." (18+ preferred)