You've been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles' Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Harry doesn't believe in coincidences. Neither should she.

𝑆ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠. 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑. 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑐 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒. In which Harry falls for her cherry heels and golden aura, encasing him in a liquified supernova of love. This is a work of fiction. Mature content. 18+ Started: December 2020 Completed: October 2021 I DO NOT CONDONE TRANSLATIONS OR PDF PRINTING OF MY WORK.

[COMPLETED] *STORY CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* !! Disclaimer: Harry Styles is used as a face and name claim, these characters DO NOT represent who he is as a person, this is purely fiction and not tied to Harry Styles in ANY WAY. !! It's 1973, Marijuana has just been legalised, festivals are booming and rock and roll has become bigger than ever. Oregon is the hot spot for many festivals - psychedelic mushroom festivals, music festivals, rave drug festivals. It's what all young adults dream of in a world where they feel alone. But what happens when those festivals turn into nightmares? What happens when a body unexpectedly shows up? And what happens when the main suspect is the lead singer of the band that headlines every single festival? Are they tied to the murder, or are they being framed? What happens when more bodies start showing up? Join Mary Jane - a twenty four year old cannabis and rave lover, and the mystery of what's going on behind the scenes of these festivals she loves oh so much. It's a journey filled with sex, drugs and rock and roll. What could go wrong? Or what happens if it's all just pretend? "The Summer Of 1973" Harry Styles 1970s AU **CURRENTLY NOT ACCEPTING ANY PRINTING OR TRANSLATING OF MY WORK**

⟡ The year is 1989 when Harry moves into the house across the street from Josephine, who lets her intrigue and fascination grow about the handsome, yet mysterious man every day--that is, until her days left to live are compromised. ⟡ ⟡ THIS IS A DARK, TWISTED STORY ⟡ ⟡ Hateful and hurtful comments will be deleted if seen. Happy reading! ⟡

ON HOLD // "What do you want to drink, angel?" He whispered in my ear as goosebumps rose all over my skin. I roll my eyes at him secretly adoring the nickname he's chosen for me. "Haven't I told you, Harry, that's not my name?" He gives me a genuine laugh flashing his perfect smile handing me a cup filled with a clear liquid. "Angel is more fitting than your full name, it's all I see when I look at you." // *NOT A SLOW BURN*

Eva's past and present collide to cause chaos. [Completed] I do not accept translations, sorry x --- "What are you-" I tried to speak but once again was cut off. Harry brought his hand back up, wrapping it around my throat and pinning me forcefully against him. I couldn't stop the gasp that came from me, my eyes going wide and meeting his in the mirror while under his hand on my neck went hot. His fingers tensed around the sides of my throat, making my head go light and core ache. "You want me to stop?" he asked, tightening his grip. I dropped my eyes to my throat, seeing his bloodied hand wrapped around it, the red liquid seeping out between his fingers and dark drips falling down my chest already. He doesn't look bothered one bit... Neither am I "Don't stop"

[ONGOING/ON HIATUS] a story about opening up to new dynamics, an undealt past, a stolen ring, a psychotic ex, and an alluring young man with a peculiar taste in beverages. /// - an adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy and sunflowervolvimp3 collaboration - vampire!harry self-insert au (we like writing Y/N because it's more inclusive by allowing everyone to create their own mc in their head)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Marigold flower represents a passion, a creativity, but underneath the beauty of such an alluring flower, it is difficult to ignore the cruelty, the jealousy and the grief. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A new Fashion Designer and Photographer Harry Styles has been encouraged to explore his passion for many years. Once he decides to finally throw himself into the depths of his creativity, he finds himself in a situation which becomes more complicated than he could ever expect. The immense protection and privacy of his family is his main concern and after years of being able to control and protect them, he is struggling to come to terms with the loss of them and being so far away. Harry tells himself he is going to protect his own family by putting his work at the forefront of his mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bryoni Melburn, daughter of Lightning Model Agency's Jonathan Melburn is finally given a job that will change her career. Being the face of a new and upcoming fashion brand called 'Marigold' would change her life, and with her Dad persistent on making her the face of the agency, she really can't say no. However, although Bryoni is painted as the girl with the perfect life, secrets surround her. How long is it before she drowns? Or is she exactly where she's meant to be? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This story contains MATURE and EXPLICIT content. This is your only warning :) STARTED 4th Mar 2021

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.