AU where Zayn’s a journalist who finds rock star, Harry Styles, passed out outside his motel room. (Smut with a capital S, so if you're used to my usual stuff, proceed with caution.)

Covering his eyes with his left hand, Harry sighs, interrupting his mom. "Fine, I'll bring him over. But I'm not promising anything because he has a family too and he might want to be with them." "Try your best, okay honey?" Anne chirps. "Then give me a call as soon as you know. Love you, sweetie. Good luck with exams." "Love you," Harry replies numbly, before whispering a low "Fuck" once the line is dead. Wonderful, truly wonderful. How is he going to find a boyfriend in two fucking weeks? This is karma, actual karma for lying about a boyfriend that doesn't exist. He learns about the inner workings of the human mind all day and then he goes and pulls this kinda shit himself. Christmas is either going to end up a disaster or smothered in more lies. OR - Harry needs a fake boyfriend for Christmas. Niall might have a suggestion that Harry won't really like. Enter Zayn with his dreamy eyes and a supernatural affinity to get families (including Harry's) to love him.

Zayn Malik was always different compared to the other children as he grew up. He was never understood, and in turn never understood the others, so he lived in his dream world of doodles, colours and drawings. He finally reaches out to the tall, curly haired Harry Styles, but how will the popular Harry react to the quiet boy who everyone thought was mute? Zayn has so many more problems then Harry could ever understand, but how can Harry try to help the brown-eyed boy, when he barely speaks a word? [A Zarry Stylik Fanfiction that contains triggers of abuse and bullying.]

Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see. That’s what his father always tells him with that smile of his, the one that says, I’ll tell you that much, but the rest will cost you. Harry never knew what he meant, but he gets it now that he’s sitting in the dim bar of another hotel he won’t sleep in, the ice melting in his £18 gin and tonic. He doesn’t even like gin and tonic, but it’s all part of the game. And it is a game. It has to be, because if it isn’t that means he doesn’t enjoy it and he does.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘎𝘰𝘥'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘡𝘢𝘺𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. Zayn is a quiet, intelligent, enigmatic sophomore at Whitman University who's obsessed with drawing, poetry, and this charismatic musician named Harry who works at Daisies coffee shop. While Zayn navigates through trying to understand human sexuality and emotions, he becomes faced with an internal conflict when another man is vying for his affection. • Zarry AU in New York City • Contains explicit sexual scenes, strong language, drinking, mild drug use, mentions sexual abuse. Completed October 2020 | V

A childhood where Zayn made a promise to Harry and it's becoming increasingly more difficult to keep that promise.

[social media ❦ crack fic] zayn randomly decides to prank text his number neighbor during quarantine because there's nothing better to do. who knew his number neighbor would be so hot? bottom!harry as always ❦ [disclaimer: harry is older than zayn] ꒰ ⑅ on hiatus ꒱ ˖♡

"Um...call me Harrie." *1st place in The Bromance Awards: Season Two *Highest ranking as of 12/02/17: #345 in Fanfiction ©2016 Prisonerwithavision

We’re just friends. Zayn needs to get that tattooed somewhere so he never forgets.