"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

She was the girl - vintage fur coat, gold sunglasses, a drink in one hand and destruction in the other. Inez Monroe doesn't chase fame. She was born into it. French model, tabloid obsession, and the kind of party girl who dances barefoot on yachts and never texts back. She's chaos in red lipstick - and Harry notices her the second she walks into that New York afterparty. She leaves before he can speak to her. But when he sees her again - glitter-smeared, high, laughing with someone who doesn't deserve her - he steps in. He doesn't know it yet, but that night will change everything. Before the solo music. Before the headlines. Before the heartbreak. She becomes his muse. He becomes her escape. What starts as desire spirals into something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous to feel. Love - in hotel rooms, in lyrics, in late-night corner shops and quiet journal pages - until the world pulls them apart. Years later, he's the biggest name in music. And she's the one girl he never forgot.

Zeya Monroe never wanted to be famous-she just wanted to be heard. When she's thrown into the spotlight as Harry Styles' opening act, all eyes are suddenly on her. The crowd loves her. He doesn't. But the more they push each other away, the closer their shadows seem to fall in sync. She's got a voice. He's got the stage. And between them stands a manager who doesn't care who gets destroyed on the way up.

Three weeks in Europe. Two heartbroken strangers. One whirlwind romance.

[H.S.] Noelle, working in her family's charming London bookshop finds her predictable life turned upside down when a chance encounter with a mysterious customer-who happens to be the Harry Styles-leads to unexpected connections and a spark she never saw coming.

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."

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.*

Underneath a sky scattered with stars, there's a story waiting to be told-a story of love, loss, and the strength it takes to find oneself. Julia didn't expect her world to shift when she opened the doors of her mother's flower shop one ordinary morning. Harry didn't expect to find solace in a small Italian town, far from the flashing lights of fame. But life has a way of bringing people together when they need it most, even if the journey is messy, complicated, and anything but perfect. This is a tale of finding beauty in the broken pieces, of daring to chase dreams, and of love that feels as vast and untouchable as the stars. Welcome to their story. COVER BY MY FAV: @LIVVSSTARS

SEQUEL TO DUPLICITY. Complicity- to be involved with others in illegal activity or wrongdoing. After sacrificing herself for Harry's freedom, Aven Brooks is no longer the innocent photographer with big dreams and a bigger heart. Now under the notorious control of Malikai, she becomes brainwashed into being the perfect asset for his organized crime. Harry, a fugitive, spends his days trying to find his angel and reap her out the path he once walked. When that stroke of luck comes his way, he smacks into the harsh reality to what she's actually become. Needless to say, she's no longer an angel. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @HAPPYDAYS1D ALLOWING NO TRANSLATIONS. CONTAINS MATURE LANGUAGE, SEXUAL CONTENT, DRUG USE, VIOLENCE, AND MENTAL HEALTH. READ AT OWN RISK!

18+ / Very Mature "Please, this is like cliche-central. With a kinky twist." ††† I step under the hot stream of water, soaking my hair, and take a deep breathe. I try and clear my mind, focusing on the way the water feels hitting my body. I turn around, opening my eyes, only to shout out a curse and stumble back. Emma is directly in front of me, taking off her tank top, eyes glued to my body. I hadn't shut the curtains, thinking no one would be in here, and I didn't know if I was happy or mad I did that. I stood there speechless as her small hands grasped the bottom of her sports bra. I inhaled sharply when she pulled it up and over her head, exposing her breasts. They jiggled slightly as she tossed her clothes to the side, and I found my heart rate quickening at an alarming rate. "W-what are you doing?" I breathe out as she pulls her leggings down her body, leaving her in just a thong. "Showering." Emma tells me as if it's obvious.