"Before we get started, I need you to know that I don't do soft sex. I like it rough." Harry Styles is surrounded by walls. But after a summer filled with deprecating passion, she might just be the only one who can break those walls. *this story contains mature and explicit content*

All Harry wanted was to get over his best friend's girl. All Nova wanted was to get over her traumatic past. So, they made a deal. But, this deal may end up being a bit more than they bargained for. WARNING: Sexually graphic. Themes of violence, drugs, and alcohol. May be subject to feels. *Gigi is only a face claim. You can picture whomever you want.*

*Includes Mature Content* Harry Styles: the founder and CEO of one of the fastest-growing American record labels and recording companies in the world. After starting the company at the age of twenty, he maintained the company's widespread success with the strong motivation of ensuring that he could provide for his six-year-old daughter, Naomi Styles. Iris Monroe: a bright and optimistic second-year first-grade English and Art teacher at the most prestigious private schools in the city of Los Angeles. While her students work on a writing activity, she notices one student in particular struggling with reading and writing more than expected at her age. In an attempt to reach out to Naomi's father, after leaving an endless number of voicemails and sending emails, Mr. Styles finally finds time in his busy schedule to meet Ms. Monroe for a parent-teacher conference. But when their relationship expands beyond the classroom, they're left entangled in a challenging and Frowned Upon predicament.

"one look at the newest member of the boston bruins and i knew i was absolutely, totally, completely, and irrevocably... pucked." ☘︎☘︎☘︎ [completed; january 14, 2021]

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.*

// "...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.

1988. Self discovery wasn't something that came easy to Mabel, in fact, she'd refused to deal with the matter since decisions seemed to always be made for her. She wasn't sure how she'd ever get by, living in the small suburban town within Los Angeles. Although one thing she did know, her sister was coming back to town for the summer. What she didn't know, was why the mysterious drummer boy would smoke marlboro cigarettes and only speak to her when he felt like it. It was quite frankly irritating having to meet his gaze everywhere she looked, but then again, it would only be for the summer. *this story contains mature and explicit themes*

[Completed] [MATURE CONTENT] ** Reader's discretion advised (18+) Smut chapters are indicated with an (*) - Excerpt chapter 3 - I had been dreaming about her all week, and now she was for sure not going to leave my brain. I had been fucking my fist every night to get rid of the image of her on her knees in front of me after I saw her biting down on that pencil at the bar on Monday. So flirty and dirty, yet so innocent. While the thought excited me, to be with someone without experience, I'd never act upon it. I was definitely rough in bed, and I had a lot of kinks and didn't know how to be soft. I'd completely ruin her. But then again, maybe she'd let me. Maybe she'd like it. ** Started: October 2021 ** Finished: December 2021

"Harry, there is not a single song that you could play of yours that I wouldn't know every word to. I love them all. I just told you that Fine Line changed my life. Take the fucking compliment." I raised my brows at her and lifted my chin up slightly. "Quite a dirty mouth you've got when you get passionate, Bee." Then I fished out my phone from my trousers, swiping to my music app and finding a song to test her with. "Every word, yeah?" I clarify, glancing to her with my eyebrows raised. She watched me, catching on to what I was doing. She smirked, then reached behind her to the small side table on the other side of the couch, pressing her finger onto what looked like a black circular Bluetooth speaker until it made a bloop noise and lit up. "Try me." She tossed the rest of the whiskey back. ~~~~ This is a fanfiction that is supposed to resemble the version of Harry that I like to imagine him to be in real life. I use real people from his life, real songs, real albums, but I do not know him personally and therefore this is 100% fictional. As of now, I don't plan on including any outlandish plot points, so it may seem boring in that regard. There is a lot of talking, a lot of staring into eyes, and some smut. I'm writing this for myself, because as Harry has said, "If you're happy doing what you're doing, no one can tell you you're not successful." So whoever finds this and wants to give it a spin, I appreciate you and I accept any and all feedback. But it's ultimately serving as a creative outlet for me. Gotta do something with the Harry obsession besides just scroll Tiktok all day ;)