Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back. -- *18+ // Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content*

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* "People only leave this town in a box 6ft tall and 2ft wide." *** It's 1998, Layla has gone on a one woman road trip to find inspiration and ends up in the middle of nowhere in the country. A quiet place called Clovertown. This leads her to The Lucky Lamb motel, and it's asshole of an owner. That's the least of her problems though. There's something not very lucky about this place. *** Story Start Date : TBA

[COMPLETED] Bentley Hale is the best street racer in the Bay Area, but everything changes when she becomes wrapped up with Harry Styles, the new official racer for the Oakland Kings gang. Bentley's got a wicked mind and the attitude to match, but so does Harry. Money, murder, family, love, gangs, drugs, sex, cars, California... what could possibly go wrong? ----------------------- this book contains violence, mature/dark themes, explicit sexual content including kink, and the use of profanity.

Purple was never kind to the ones in reality. ~ "Get out of here." The familiar boy told the redheaded girl, her heartrate rising with each erratic breath. "He never lets you leave." Purple struggled greatly with mixing blues and reds, ensuring their dye joined as one. Never were they allowed to function on their own. Never were they allowed as individual colors, nor were lighter shades of violet. There was either dark purple, or there was six o'clock. Trembling under the Blue lights, the Red peered over the boy's shoulder at the grandiose poster plastered on the wall. If she couldn't leave Wonderland, then she would watch it burn.

18+ / Very Mature The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

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.*

"Take it! Just take it!" I demanded in annoyance, springing my whole body out as I tackled Harry from behind. "For the tenth time I don't want your stupid virginity!"

"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!

*Mature and Explicit Content* "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?" ---------- I watch as Harrys breathing shallows, his eyes glazing over as his brows furrow "You really want that?" I nod without missing a beat, assuring him "I really do, is that okay with you?" "Fuck Joey, how wouldn't it be okay with me? There's no way I could possibly say no to that, I just can't believe that's what you want" he strains out, the worry in his face being washed over with a drunk look in his eyes. I hold my breath, pulling myself up to look down at him, trailing my eyes down his bare torso and back to his face as I feel excitement I've never felt before jolt through me "Well I do, so show me Harry, show me what feels good for you" ---------- Book Started : DEC 2018 - ONGOING

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of asking random useless questions that we've been going back and forth with for the past half hour. I stare at my feet swinging back and forth, looking down at the alleyway behind the building; pondering the question over in my head that I often wonder too much about. I glance over to Harry when he doesn't answer straight away and he's watching me with a look I can't read. "Unless you were a bird or could fly, it would just feel like falling. Because you'd know you were going to hit the ground" he decides to answer, staring at me like he's somewhat bothered that I asked him that. I look back down at the ground, and shrug my shoulders, "I think if you didn't care about hitting the ground it could feel like flying for a few seconds." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ STARTED 11TH MARCH 2019 - ONGOING