The head and the heart, an exhausted rivalry of human psychology. When forced with a choice between logic and emotion, a person is sure to crumble beneath the weight of their own conscience. - Ophelia "Philly" Carter is in Manhattan and she's lost everything. She has no family, she has no money, and she has no friend...
*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 wi...
Lynn Mercury is your daring, feminist idealist who only wants to get into the Portland Thorns. So when the chance arises to ditch her home city for the opportunity to go pro, leaving behind her UCLA soccer team and her persuasive ex-fling, Lynn takes off to London and quickly falls into routine with seventeen boys, a...
[COMPLETED] Bentley Hale is the best street racer in the Bay Area, but everything changes when she becomes wrapped up with Harry Styles, the new official racer for the Oakland Kings gang. Bentley's got a wicked mind and the attitude to match, but so does Harry. Money, murder, family, love, gangs, drugs, sex, cars, Ca...
Immensely private Olivia has her world turned upside down when it collides with Harry, a critically acclaimed musician with stardom in his grasp. Together they navigate the obstacles of love, fame, heartbreak and the bond of friendships that keep it all together. Part 1 of 3 [#1 Fan Fiction 12 Sept 2018] - MATURE CON...
Abscond (verb): to leave hurriedly and secretly, typically to avoid detection of or arrest for an unlawful action such as theft. // "They had to run, run for their lives." WARNING: Extremely explicit sexual content and language. Only read if you are comfortable with mature content. All Rights Reserved to harryartwork...
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...
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.}
"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...
"Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name...
I hate her, I hate her, I fucking hate her. If she died right now, I wouldn't care. My main concern would be how I would get my money for this stunt. I have not an ounce of a feeling for this girl in front of me, yet I can't move under her angry gaze. I wouldn't dare. "Fuck you." I whisper out a pitiful insult to get...