**mature** "We accept the love we think we deserve." ― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower "I would do anything for you, you know that right?" I ask her. "Harry, we can't." She pushes back slightly, as I lean down to place a kiss on her neck. "Hunter." "Does Hunter touch you like I do? Does he make you feel good?" My fingers inch lower down her stomach. Her whimper was the only thing I wanted to hear. "My brother doesn't make you feel the way I do, you know it." Highest rank - #1 in harry ***DISCLAIMER: WRITTEN WHILST 14!!*** © All rights reserved to @FineMelodyxx.

"Say my name," Harry said, his hands groping my butt and pushing me against the wall. "Say it." "H-Harry." I whined, and he abruptly pushed his pelvis against me, pinning me to the wall and pulling his head back to look at me. "That's not my name." He growled. His eyes were full of lust and his breathing was heavy on my cheeks. "Daddy." _____________________________________________ This is NOT a l*rry fanfic _____________________________________________ #1 in Fanfiction - 05/20/17 #2 in harrystylesau - 04/28/23 #25 in harrystyles - 01/13/20 #32 in sugardaddy - 01/03/21 #101 in styles - 04/28/23 #171 in onedirection - 05/26/20

Harry doesn't believe in coincidences. Neither should she.

Cassandra Lowe's parents seem to always be at work, leaving their two children with relatives far more than they would like. One day, Cassie's father gets a call asking him and his wife to take a trip to Australia, thousands of miles away from their children. They accept the offer but know they can't leave their seventeen- and eight-year-olds with their grandmother since she was recently bedridden. The couple decides to entrust Cassandra with watching after her little brother with the help of an assistant caretaker who will make daily trips to see them. The pair is pleased with their arrangements, but when the sitter is late, the couple has to leave before meeting the woman who will be taking care of their children for the next week. With slight hesitation, the couple leave, boarding a plane, assuming the elderly lady would arrive sooner rather than later, but little did they know they had hired a dangerous psychopathic killer named Harry Styles. Will Cassandra and Ben escape the harmful hands of their psychotic sitter? Or has he already set his eyes on the young and pure Cassandra...? -COMPLETED- • NO TRANSLATIONS • Description updated on 11/08/25 Highest Ranks: #11 FanFiction #16 Mystery/Thriller Editor: @GrumpyKatx Cover by: @navigate Trailer by: @cuddlingashton Copyright© 2014 _Discovered_

Church boys know how to pray, but do they know how to beg? /// warning: contains mature content such as sexual activities, sacrilegious comments, swearing, and other trigger topics. read at your own risk.

She was the anchor that kept him steady above the water. He was the anchor that made her sink. A story filled with ups and downs. An unsteady sea, really.

"I like a woman who can beat me at my own game." // cover credit to @herwalls

Rupture: [noun] a separation into parties or within a party; a schism. In a world of destruction, riot, and division, she was set to kill all, stopping at none. Then he came along, and he reminded her of what it was like to feel. When everybody else chose the rupture, they chose to unite.

Lennon's dad, Axel is out of the grave and walking the Earth, willing and able to destroy anything that comes between him and his prize, even his own blood. But Axel of all people should know; defeat doesn't run through the family veins. So, who has the nerve to pull the trigger? Never underestimate a girl who used to make bread for a living, Harry Styles learnt that. However, Axel isn't the only one who wants a hint of drama, Lennon is at the number one spot of another hit list. One nineteen year old girl can only take so much, and sometimes it's too much for even the person you love to save you...

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.*