[COMPLETED] where she sat and ate her strawberries, while he smoked his cigarettes. -harry styles au -set in summer of 1998 -mentions rape, sexual assault, abuse, fighting, and suicide

"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!

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.

This is a story of what you wish would happen when you go to college. So buckle up and settle in, because Harry Styles is gonna make us all feel alive again. Highest ranking: 59 in #harrystyles 176 in Fanfiction

Louis Tomlinson has tried so hard to not be who he really is. He has worked for years to not be a person that people don't accept. The walls he built are slowly torn down by a tall boy with green eyes. Add Louis, Harry Styles, a pride parade, and a kiss together, and there's a story full of love and someone learning that it's okay to love boys because love is love, right? (Louis is a painter who hides his sexuality. Harry is a wedding photographer who embraces his gay pride. Liam and Zayn most certainly have a thing going on, and Niall is content just trying to open a restaurant.) Cover by @stiles24stilinskiXD

*Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content* [COMPLETED] "Strangers in the dark can change your life in the light." "As I reach the front door I can't help the same question swimming around in my mind, what could possibly be on all of those tapes?" ----- Preview: "You wanna try and be my medicine Abby?" he asks with a deep testing tone, keeping his voice quiet. "I can try" I breathe out as I gulp when his grip tightens "Try me" His hand slides up my throat, his long fingers wrapping tight around my jaw "That's what you really want?" I nod, as I sigh out a shallow yes, and I see every muscle in his body tense, as he wets his lips; hoarsely murmuring his next sentence like its his last try at making me change my mind. "I'm dangerous Abby, this is your last chance, tried to warn you" My stomach twists and knots, as I use every ounce of bravery I have. "Prove it then" ----- Book Started : DEC 2018 - COMPLETED MAY 2019

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.*

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.

A story of first true love between an unsuspecting, extroverted girl and an awkward, beautifully magnetic boy. WARNING: Explicit sexuality. All Rights Reserved to styleslegend, 2018 ©