Visiting her hometown for Christmas, Nellie is already frustrated by changing family dynamics and returning to a place she'd tried to forget. With separated parents, a sister she barely knows, and nosey neighbours poking into her life, it's hardly the time for rest and relaxation she hoped for. But when she reunites with the one person she vowed to never see again, the season falls into even more disarray as she's forced to confront feelings she'd spent years pushing away. With a new year approaching, and the remnants of a lost love, it is up to Nellie to figure out how willing she is to open her heart to those that love her most.

"You don't build a future in a town you're passing through, Harry," she replied, her voice barely steady. "I'm not passing through." "You always are." Harry Styles was a man defined by the exit sign. Between the sold-out stadiums, the hazy recording studios, and a life lived through a tour bus window and private jet, he was a ghost in motion. He was the man who left; she was the one who stayed behind, rooted in the hills of Arezzo like the perennials in her garden, blooming in a cycle he never stayed long enough to see. . Exhausted by the glare of fame, Harry retreats to a quiet town on the outskirts of Arezzo, seeking refuge from the expectations that have defined his life. In a modest house with a serene, vibrant garden, he rediscovers stillness and simplicity, finding comfort in small routines and the quiet rhythm of daily life. But even in this hidden corner of Tuscany, human connection finds a way in, stirring curiosity, trust, and the gentle possibility of something more.

When an anonymous threat attacks two rival spy organizations, Nicole Calvitto agrees to become the center of a faux alliance in order to combat the looming peril. Her job was simple: marry her organization's opposing heir, work together to solve the mysterious string of deaths, and in the meantime uncover any secrets her not-so-beloved new husband, Harry Styles, and his intellectual arrogance kept hidden. Unveiled is a fanfiction about spies, secrets, and a man who thinks he knows everything.

Harry Styles, 32, runs a billion-dollar beauty company and terrifies boardrooms for a living. He can negotiate international contracts, outmanoeuvre competitors, and turn a random idea into a global brand. But at home? Harry cannot assemble IKEA furniture. He once tried to fix a leaking sink with a skincare spatula. And his favourite home outfit is an old t-shirt that should have been retired years ago. To the world, Harry Styles is a visionary CEO. To Livia, a 30 years old botanist who studies forests, soil, and things that actually grow properly, he's just her slightly chaotic husband. Their life is a strange ecosystem of Harry's boardrooms and Livia's lecture halls, investor calls and graduate students, early-morning kisses before work and long nights tangled together after it, plus the occasional domestic debate about why the CEO of a beauty empire refuses to stop using three-in-one shampoo Somehow, between the chaos, the careers, and two very stubborn personalities, they're making it work. Most of the time.

Harry thought it was just one weekend. Near Barcelona. A stolen shirt. A girl he couldn't quiet forget. Months later, he walks into lunch with his girlfriend Romi-only to find her new assistant is Alice. The same girl. What follows is a slow unraveling of boundaries, secrets, and everything they tried to leave behind. Because when the past shows up holding your coffee and a schedule for your day, pretending nothing happened... What do you do?

[COMPLETE] In which a lawyer stumbles upon a scared little girl late at night with no supervision, keeps her company and befriends her, only to find out her father is the world-famous popstar, Harry Styles. *Slow burn, friends to lovers, soft, dadrry This story includes mature content. --- "So, Poppy, what's wrong? Do you not like slides, honey?" I ask, dying to know how she ended up here all alone. "I do... I have one at home, daddy bought me one and put it in the garden. I just don't like this one," she admits sadly. "I get it. This one looks a bit a scary, doesn't it?" She nods, her cheeks turning red again. "Don't be ashamed, Poppy. Everyone has some insecurities, that's what makes us human, you know? You don't want to turn into a robot who doesn't feel anything. There are both good and bad feelings, everybody has them, honey. You can feel happy, you can feel proud or you can feel loved even. You like feeling like this, don't you?" She nods, giving me a sign to continue. "All those feelings, the good and the bad, is what life is, bug. Sometimes you get scared, shy and sad, everybody does. But what is important is that everyone chooses to deal with these feelings differently. And these choices you make, whether you cry, give up or stand up to your fears, that's what shapes you into the person you'll become once you grow up, my lovely friend," I explain, looking deeply into her beautiful and innocent hazel eyes. "Would like me to help you overcome your fear, Poppy? You're such a strong and brave young lady, I can tell," I smile at her when she gives me a shy nod. "Yes, please." --- This story is a product of my imagination. None of things mentioned in the story are real, and it is not my intention to offend Harry or any other people mentioned in the story as their behaviour is purely idolised.

Harry's chicken is in her garden again. For the third time this week. "Styles!" she shout over the fence. "Your demon bird is attacking my sunflowers again!" He appears, slow and unbothered, leaning against the fencepost like he's got all the time in the world. "She's not attacking. She's exploring." "She's murdering." He grins. "Guess she's got taste." She crosses her arms. "I'll make stew." "Touch her," he says, "and I'll plow your garden flat." "Threats from a man who can't even keep a chicken home?" He looks at her, amused. "Wouldn't call her the only one sneaking over lately." And just like that, she's the one blushing redder than her poor, dying sunflowers.

She stirred her tea slowly. "I'm not your babysitter, you know." "Says the girl hired to keep me from combusting." "I was told 'companion with boundaries.'" Harry narrowed his eyes, then grinned like the cat that found a string to pull. "That's adorable." "Don't flirt with me before I've had caffeine." "Wasn't flirting." He stepped closer, walking past her toward the fridge, close enough that his arm brushed hers - possibly by accident, possibly not. "If I flirted, you'd know." She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt her forehead. "What are we even doing here?" Harry paused, hand on the fridge handle, then looked over his shoulder with that look - the one she couldn't read yet. "Trying not to kill each other, apparently." © 2025 . All rights reserved.

Sentry ('sen-trē): a person or group that watches over someone or something. ▣⬩▣⬩▣⬩▣⬩▣ In which Harry Styles is hired to watch over Christoph Beckett's daughter, Naomi, after the sudden passing of his wife, Delia. Harry thinks he's signed up for solely the role of Naomi's bodyguard, but as more time goes on, Naomi approaches him with an additional offer of her own. It's one Harry knows he should resist at all costs, but in the end, he can't help but give in.

"Tell me, Harry," I said, voice low, hungry. "Tell me you want this. Beg for it." For a second, he looked like he might. Like he'd fall to pieces and let me own him for a moment, let me keep the power. But no. Something shifted. His eyes went dark-stormy, unreadable, dangerous-and I knew in that second I'd lit a fuse I couldn't unlight. I'd thought I was in control, thought I could tease him into submission. But instead, I'd woken the wolf.