STARTED JAN 2023-- MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT. Viewer Discretion is advised. Priscilla Pearl Wolfe is a Pornstar. Halen Elle used to be. That is until the apathetically charming jackass with a back pocket full of guitar picks and skittles moves back to the Romantix Roommates house in New York. Where dreams come true, pornos are made, and people go missing.

Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no room for error. Harry never misses a step, until the night he unknowingly hooks up with the assassin he's been ordered to catch. Winter is a master manipulator, a ruthless assassin with a chilling elegance and icy eyes that seem to pierce through the soul. She kills with precision, vanishes without a trace, and never lets anyone close. What begins as a mission becomes a deadly obsession. Because in this game, they're both hunter and prey. In a world of secrets, betrayal, and bloodshed, Harry finds himself completely captivated by the danger he seeks to eliminate. The cat and mouse game begins, blurring the lines between duty and desire. // "Because we're still doing this the easy way." Harry muttered, his hand flexed on the back of my neck. I gasped when he used my throat to pull me towards him. He spun me around, shoving me back forcefully so my back hit the wall. "I don't want to have to do it the hard way." His chest was against mine to keep me further restrained, my wrists were pinned against the wall above my head. "I don't wanna have to be the bad guy." "What are you going to do?" I asked him, swallowing, feeling his palm wrapped tightly around my throat, but not enough that I was choking, just enough that I could feel the pressure. "Are you trying to choke me, Harry?" I cocked my head to the side, grinning through my blood stained lips. "C'mon... you know I like it."

* THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* Please refer to the list of possible triggers and kinks. Harry Styles. Twenty-Five. Green eyes. One hundred and ninety-six pounds. Six foot even or one hundred and eighty-seven centimetres. Born to Anne Cox and Desmond Styles. Parents whereabouts unknown. No known surviving family. Styles is best with guns, poison and the concealment of his victims for none have been found. || Astar works with MI6 as a secret undercover agent, taking on a new identity to try and infiltrate the Devil's Tribe. Will she be successful? Will she be able to go through all of the hardships? Will she follow the rules or fall apart somewhere along the way? STARTED: FEBRUARY 2021 FINISHED: FEBRUARY 2022

1988. Self discovery wasn't something that came easy to Mabel, in fact, she'd refused to deal with the matter since decisions seemed to always be made for her. She wasn't sure how she'd ever get by, living in the small suburban town within Los Angeles. Although one thing she did know, her sister was coming back to town for the summer. What she didn't know, was why the mysterious drummer boy would smoke marlboro cigarettes and only speak to her when he felt like it. It was quite frankly irritating having to meet his gaze everywhere she looked, but then again, it would only be for the summer. *this story contains mature and explicit themes*

a killer instinct was coined in the early boxing world as a protective, cold mentality that surges to one's consciousness and turns one into a vicious defense practitioner. everyone has a killer instinct. for harry styles, that ruthless mentality always seemed to circle back to one singular thing - her. --- but she doesn't let me go far, keeping our faces inches apart and my lips curl up as i chew this gum in between my teeth. her fingers roughly press into my cheeks and she smiles back with a devilish, lustful glint in her eyes. "you're gonna want me in control more often after i'm done with you, baby." she whispers, taking me aback with the boldness of her statement as she simply smiles before letting go of my face with a light shove. i slowly scoff and she hums as i shake my head at her. "yeah? prove it." i taunt and she sinks her straight white teeth into her bottom lip with a smirk. --- || mature and explicit content, read at your own risk * ||

When Destiny flees her abusive ex and moves to Mexico with her two best friends, she's ready for a fresh start-cheap rent, tequila shots, and no more looking over her shoulder. But one wild night at a desert bar changes everything.

In the summer of 1949, beneath the heat of the Deep South and the weight of expectation, a preacher's daughter falls for the one man she's forbidden to want. Secret glances turn to midnight touches, and in a town where loving him could cost her everything, Josephine has to choose between what's safe and what sets her on fire.

They grew up next door, inseparable since childhood-but somewhere between stolen glances and unspoken feelings, friendship blurred into something far more dangerous.

I met him on the wrong side of midnight. London was supposed to be my chance to outrun the past, to bury the ghosts. But I've learned that ghosts don't stay buried, and neither do secrets. Now, I'm caught in a dangerous game. And danger isn't something you escape. It catches you. ---- "And right now, I bet it's eating you alive," he murmurs. "Trying to figure out if I'm your executioner or your guardian angel." I swallow hard. "What do you want from me?" "Now that," he leans in just enough to make my pulse jump, "is the right question." -- Harry is widely known as one of the most feared underground fighters London has ever seen. Olivia runs to London to escape the ghosts of her past and reinvent herself. But what happens when a cruel twist of fate brings them together? ** contains violence, drug use, mental health issues, grief, sexual content, strong language.

[Completed] [MATURE CONTENT / 18+] In which an escort agrees to be the third in a marriage that's hanging by a thread. You know our love would be tragic So you don't pay it, don't pay it no mind. We live with no lies, you're my favourite kind of night.