Distractions. I had her wrapped around my finger, and I was equally wrapped around hers. *** I loved you both Key word 'loved' You both ruined me Now you'll have to live with the consequences Neither of you will like this ending One of you wont live to see it *** "Harry, we can't." I whispered as his hand began to creep its way up my short dress. I could feel the cold metal of his rings on my inner thighs. "What if they turn around." I shifted my eyes to my two best friends in the front seat of the car. He lowered his lips to the curve of my neck, lightly sucking at the sensitive skin. Then trailing his lips to my ear without losing contact. "You'll just have to keep quiet then baby." His whisper instantly sent chills down my spine. His large hands now tugging at the waistband of my panties. ~~~ MATURE CONTENT ~ VULGAR LANGUAGE/MURDER/DRUGS ABUSE/SEXUAL CONTENT/MENTAL HEALTH ~~~ started - 12/5/20 finished - TBD *HIGHEST RANKS* #1 in wattpad - 1/25/21 #10 in harrystyles - 2/1/21 #15 in harry - 2/15/21

My friendship for Harry is laying on green grass on a hazy summer afternoon, hot chocolate in winter and swing sets at the park... But my love for Harry is poetry written by hand in leather journals, dried flowers pressed into novels and open button up shirts that expose my black swimmer tops. I realised something; his pinkie wrapped in mine is a feeling I've never realised I crave so badly. Perhaps because I couldn't have it. Not until now. **** With growing up comes change and for Tilly and Harry - change was their detriment. *this story contains mature and explicit content* * COMPLETED* Highest Achievements: #1 in one #1 in onedirection #1 in hs1 #1 in secretlove #1 in harrystyles #1 in films #1 in onedirectionasthemselves

*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2. Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo. "Something can be both delicate and violent" *** Harry lowers his eyes at me as he backs me up against the wall, the red lighting only making him look more menacing "You wanted the bad guy Abby? Wanted the villain?" My heart his running a hundred mile an hour when my breathing hitches in my throat as his hand comes up to wrap his long fingers tight around my jaw forcing me to look him in the eye. "Well now you've got him" He leans his face close to mine, his voice dropping to a low warning murmur that has my stomach hitting the floor. "...Run little mouse" *** BOOK STARTED JULY 1 2019 COMPLETED JULY 2021

Taking place in the summer of 1978, the story follows 18-year-old aspiring music journalist, nicknamed Goldie, tasked with following up-and-coming UK rock band - The Orphans - while they do their first tour of the U.S. New to life on the road, Goldie befriends Orphan's front man Harry Styles, a handsome narcissist with an addictive personality. "You have to be a bastard to make it, and that's a fact." - John Lennon ➝ TRAILER: https://youtu.be/Oy8ixhAodNQ

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.*

My thoughts you can't decode.. Sequel : Escape Route.

"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!

Soulmates, sunflowers, hot air balloons, ballet, wildfire and music. ----- EXCERPT: "Why do you always call me sunflower?" She looks as though she's desperate for the answer, staring into my soul with so much sincerity in her words. I smile to myself, knowing exactly why. "Why do you have the sunflower tattoo darling?" I answer with another question which she doesn't seem too pleased about. "No, Harry you can't do that. I asked first." She sulks, smoothing her hands down my shirt and I can't help but chuckle slightly at her frustration. "I know, I know. Just answer the question Evie." I try to reassure her without giving too much away. She huffs with the roll of her eyes but gives in none the less. "Because of my first dance recital. Sunflowers are a happy memory for me." She explains, and I can see her trying to piece the puzzle together in those ocean eyes of hers. I bite my lip, hesitating a moment and thinking of the perfect way to say this. "I call you sunflower Evie because you are all my happiest memories." ----- The story based off of the TikTok POV by @stopmaddiedancing ----- Highest Rankings: 1 in #Onedirection 1 in #One 1 in #Direction 1 in #Niall 1 in #Literature

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.