All Harry wanted to do was get over his ex-girlfriend, so he got under Ophelia. *This story contains mature and explicit content*

|CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT| "When I first saw you The end was soon To Bethlehem it slouched And then it must've caught a good look at you" -NFWMB Evil; profoundly immoral and wicked. There are things in this world that are bad and then there are things that are truly evil. Sinister. Instances where something is so immoral that someone pure and clean has no mind to comprehend that someone can commit such an act. But there are some who can. Those who have that evilness inside them, that blackness in their hearts. They bring about destruction, devastation, wherever they go. The only thing left behind when they leave is chaos. What they had was a love no one could understand. So rooted in their twisted minds that only they could appreciate it. Every step they took together left the world in pieces around them. Two dark hearts made for the other, and only each other. Evil. Sinister. Destruction. Devastation. Desolation.

*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

"I know you have your own agenda, Harry, but you helped - that's what matters." - Hope meets a mysterious stranger in a bar, who takes her on a journey to discover shocking secrets about her family. As she struggles to adjust to her new reality and subsequently let go of her troubled past, the man who was once the embodiment of her worst nightmare becomes obsessed with saving her. - Despite what happens in the first chapter, there is a slow development of the romantic relationship between the main characters. The story contains elements of SPY fiction, which means that except for romance there's also a lot of action and mystery. If you're looking for a fanfic with actual plot, this is for you. Warning: mature content (graphic smut from chapter 20+); the story mentions triggering topics such as depression, physical abuse, addiction, suicide. - Highest rankings: - 5/3/2020 - #1 in hes - 11/4/2021 - #1 in harrystylesfanfic - 1/5/2020 - #3 in harryfanfiction - 30/01/2021 - #11 in spy - 19/9/2020 - #36 in agent - 25/8/2020 - #28 in anxiety disorder - 27/11/2020 - #23 in action-adventure - 10/12/2020 - #65 in styles - 15/04/2021 - #16 in harrystyles

To love a psycho, a psycho you must become. // COMPLETED // {WARNING: This fiction contains extreme violence, drug abuse, explicit sexual content and features strong language not suitable for minors. Discretion is advised.}

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.

***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 are going to help me acquire something very valuable,' he spoke close to my ear, his breath fanning down my neck. I looked up at the paintings in front of us, all worth millions of pounds, and then at the spot on the wall where one was missing. The knowledge of what had happened to it was giving me the adrenaline I needed to allow myself to be so close to his presence. 'Why are you trusting me with this?' I asked, turning my head slightly to face him. His green eyes met mine, a small smile turning at the corners of his lips. The room was silent as tourists filtered through the gallery, each one taking their time to focus on the artwork before them. This was a crazy proposition. I'd never been the type to run towards crazy. 'Well, you haven't told anyone yet have you? And I suspect you're seeking a little adventure.' * Atlas Hall has played it safe her whole life. Harry Styles lives for the thrill of it all. When she's recruited by the mysterious stranger, adventure awaits.

*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

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.