*Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content* [COMPLETED] "Strangers in the dark can change your life in the light." "As I reach the front door I can't help the same question swimming around in my mind, what could possibly be on all of those tapes?" ----- Preview: "You wanna try and be my medicine Abby?" he asks with a deep testing tone, keeping his voice quiet. "I can try" I breathe out as I gulp when his grip tightens "Try me" His hand slides up my throat, his long fingers wrapping tight around my jaw "That's what you really want?" I nod, as I sigh out a shallow yes, and I see every muscle in his body tense, as he wets his lips; hoarsely murmuring his next sentence like its his last try at making me change my mind. "I'm dangerous Abby, this is your last chance, tried to warn you" My stomach twists and knots, as I use every ounce of bravery I have. "Prove it then" ----- Book Started : DEC 2018 - COMPLETED MAY 2019

*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2. Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo. "Something can be both delicate and violent" *** Harry lowers his eyes at me as he backs me up against the wall, the red lighting only making him look more menacing "You wanted the bad guy Abby? Wanted the villain?" My heart his running a hundred mile an hour when my breathing hitches in my throat as his hand comes up to wrap his long fingers tight around my jaw forcing me to look him in the eye. "Well now you've got him" He leans his face close to mine, his voice dropping to a low warning murmur that has my stomach hitting the floor. "...Run little mouse" *** BOOK STARTED JULY 1 2019 COMPLETED JULY 2021

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.*

"Please Harry! I promise I won't do anything ever again, just please don't hurt me," I beg as I look into his now dark eyes. I see him pull out a scarf, as involuntary tears start to stream down my cheeks. "Don't worry babe. I'm not going to kill you," he says as he brings up his big hand to my face and uses his thumb to wipe away a tear. "I am only going to make you wish that you were dead," he whispers devilishly into my ear. || Annabel Fleming is finally getting a week off from her stressful college life. When she runs into Harry, a strange mysterious guy with dark hair, green eyes, and odd clothes. She somehow ends up waking up on a colorless island and not knowing how to escape.|| *This story contains dark and mature content. You will get no other warning.*

"Who's that over there?" The man looked at me like I was from outer space, or perhaps like I lived under a rock, maybe a mixture of both. "Him? They call him Full Throttle," he chuckled with a hint of nervousness in his voice. I scrunched my nose up in confusion. "Why?" The man threw his head back and laughed before answering me. "Because he doesn't hold back. He does everything at full speed... racing, girls, and-" the man cut himself off, seeking as though he was catching himself spilling a secret. "And what?" "Don't worry about it." THIS BOOK IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION! The characters in it are in NO way a representation of the people chosen to play them. It is merely a story, and they fit the physical description best for their characters. The characters I have created are completely fictional, and in no way relate to my thoughts and or feelings about the people I have chosen to play said characters! || THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK || HIGHEST RANKINGS: -#1 in hs -#1 in fiction -#1 in racing -#1in dragracing -#2 in harrystyles -#4 in youngadult -#5 in onedirection -#19 in cars -#31 in gangs -#57 in fighting -#64 in harry -#111 in drama -#461 in love

In some ways, Piper Stone is your average 23 year old. She graduated a year ago, she had a shit job, and her flat was the size of a shoe box. In other ways, Piper Stone is not your average 23 year old. She graduated a year ago with a Ph.D in computer science, her shit job was at MI6, her shoebox flat was below the flat of a man who may or may not be the head of London's largest crime syndicate. Oh, and now shes's working with one of the most elite agents in the service, a member of a notorius black ops group, who's as lethal as he is attractive. Did she mention she was sleeping with him? Piper Stone is definitely not your average 23 year old. *THIS STORY DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, IT BELONGS TO BIOLUMINESCENTWRITING ON TUMBLR!*

Maybe she shouldn't have opened her door in the middle of the night. 24/06/19 #3 in fanfiction 24/06/19 #3 in romance

Hired Gun /ˈhʌɪə ɡʌn/ noun NORTH AMERICAN (informal) a hired bodyguard, mercenary, or assassin.

no·to·ri·ous/adjective: famous or well known, typically for some bad quality or deed. Harry Styles, by the very definition of the word is notorious. Not only for his good looks, charm, and unfathomable musical talent, but also for his womanizing and heartless attitude. Aspen Russo, by the very definition of the word, hates Harry Styles. Not only because he calls her "munchkin" and constantly looks down her shirt, but also because he flirted his way into her band and refuses to leave. Through drunken nights, illegal adventures, sizzling chemistry, and a few secrets bubbling at the surface Aspen may just learn that definitions were meant to be applied loosely. WARNING: Graphic sexual content. I am also not responsible for any feels or heartache (good and bad) this story ensues.

18+ / Very Mature "Madison." "I need you." My voice is thick with emotion, quivering slightly at the thought of rejection. I didn't know if Harry wanted to take this further, if I was the only one feeling this level of longing. He takes his forehead away from mine and stares into my eyes, brows furrowed, "You need me?" His voice was full of disbelief, like the thought that I was pining for him in that way was impossible. "I need you." I repeat unwaveringly.