***completed*** NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON Harry Styles. The strange one. The freak. The one who was too kind for his own good, trapped in a world where his job was to bring people pain. Sophia 'Spice' Winters. The dancer. The stripper. The one who who trapped in a world where her job was to provide men with nothing but pleasure. -- "What don't you understand?" Harry seethed, his hands gripping the roots of his hair. "I'm not the good guy here, Sophia. I'm bad, everything about me is fucking bad." Harry looked as if he was about to rip his hair out, his wild eyes shinning with madness. He looked unhinged, raw and angry. It should of frightened me. That look alone should of been enough to send me running. He didn't look like the shy man I first met. He looked...crazy. His fingers were coated in red, stained with the blood of another. He didn't seem to care though. "If I was you Sophia, I would run away. Run as far away as you possibly can, because I promise you...An evil part of me won't let you go, and I hate myself for that. I want you to run away, to a place that I can't ever find you. You'll be safe that way."

"You know I love you right?" Harry questions sternly while holding my face. "Yes." I breathe out. "Good because I'm going to fuck you like I don't." ------EXPLICIT CONTENT------

" You really aren't in any position to be making demands, hot shot" I say pushing the blade harder against his neck. He chuckles deeply before leaning into the blade " and you, little devil, should know by now I'm not scared of you." A shiver runs down my spine. I'm fucked. I lower the knife slowly as my eyes flick down to his lips. Don't do this, Sage. Either walk away or kill him, those are your options. His hand slowly cups my face as he grabs my chin. He tilts it up forcing me to look at his eyes. With that one look everything stops. I am so beyond fucked it's not even funny. How the fuck did I get here. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, little devil, but I believe my eyes are up here," That stupid smirk crosses his lips as he continues " if you keep staring I might get the impression you want something from me." He lowers his mouth to my ear " Say the word and I'm yours Sage."

*THIS STORY IS ON HOLD UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE! i'm currently writing other stuff while editing this story!!* *18+ Story Contains Mature Content* "Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our pasts over and over again" - Preview: "Callen seriously where were you?" I scoff and roll my eyes, "You really think you're in the place to ask fucking questions right now?" I snap my head towards him and he sits there calm still, probably expecting my outburst. "You were gone for hours, why wouldn't I ask?" he asks again, keeping his voice low. I glance around the place and it looks like he's already made himself something to eat. "Like you actually care why I was gone" I say sarcastically while holding the cigarette in between my lips, reaching down to unzip my boots and take them off. "You know what I fucking hate Harry?" It's silent for a second until I look back at him, and he nervously replies with a 'what'. I take my jacket off and reach down to the holster in my pants, taking out one of the knives that he gave to me. I set it on the counter and look at him, "I hate when people lie to me. Do you want to know why I hate people lying to me?" It's kind of a rhetorical question, but if he can't see how mad I am then that's his problem. - ONGOING: DECEMBER 2020 - HIGHEST RANKINGS #2 in analysis #27 in harry #1 in analyzing #1 in hs #1 in behaviour #4 writing

He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses. When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets Harry, a main fighter there. She knows his reputation, but does a reputation always live up to who they really are? "Thank you for being my blue sky in such a rainy life." Because after all, every storm runs out of rain. WARNING INCLUDES MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS EXPLICIT SCENES, DRUGS, AND VIOLENCE!! NO TRANSLATIONS!!! BEST RANKS #1 IN HARRYEDWARDSTYLES #1 IN BOXERHARRY #1 IN EXPLICITSCENES #1 IN HSFANFICTION #1 IN GREENEYES #1 IN STYLES Start Date. May 28, 2021

all elena needed was just a little bit of money to get through the tough times that college can bring. her friend offers to help her out by taking her to her 'job', an agency that matches young women with rich older men. elena is matched with harry styles; a young businessman with a lot to offer.

"Would you ever give me a piece of your heart Harry?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I think I'd give you the whole damn thing Wren." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wren Gilbert is a songwriter and also fulfilling her dreams of making her own albums. She loves music, she loves writing for other people too. But sometimes she gets tired of sharing her heart with other people who don't fully understand the meaning of her songs. So when she falls in love with a boy who loves her songs, and shows her to the world she's dreamed of being in, suddenly all of her songs were about him. Trigger Warning- This story contains minor drug use, sexual content, mental health issues and abuse.

⟡ 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! ⟡

**Mature content/ 18+** TEMPORARILY ON HOLD ... It all started with a one night stand. ... "Look at me," Harry says, his voice sounding strained. I open my eyes meeting Harry's, and let my hands wander up to cup his flushed cheeks. "You are so stunning, Roslyn Mae." My heart races looking at the broken man that hovers above me. His eyes radiate both love and pain, causing me to fall even more for him. He's truly wonderful and he doesn't even know it. He's too lost in his own turmoil to recognize his own beauty, both internal and external. "So are you, Harry," I tell him, truthfully. "I wish you could see what I do when I look at you."