The city's best hitman and a precious little flower meet at Le papillon blue, New York's most notorious strip club. An angel on his shoulder that hes going to drag down to hell with him, what could go wrong? // I stood there, watching her. I was entranced; a lucid dream maybe. My blood seemed to heat every time she moved her body around that pole. I was stuck in some sort of lustful trance, unable to look anywhere but her, I didn't want to look anywhere but her. Every single move around that pole, every curve of her body, her waist, her hips, her neck; all seemed to provoke me, pull me deeper and deeper into that rabbit hole that I found myself not wanting to escape from. I was watching her, I was seeing proof, that she could go through hell, and still be an angel. *** Start date - August 10 2021 *** #1 in Harry #1 in dark #1 in Harrystyles #1 in Niallhoran #1 in ZaynMalik #1 in LouisTomlinson #1 in LiamPayne

in which joelle d'amore is completing her final semester of university in the grand city of los angeles, california. when she finds herself in the presence of harry styles, a piercing man with dangerous agendas, she is permeated with fear. she saw something she shouldn't have and now she's fucked. » He brushes my parted hair, tucking them behind my ears. I breathe in, surprised by the delicacy of his touch. Suddenly, I feel his thumbs trace underneath my jaw only to direct my head to tilt up. "Just because your fuck of a boyfriend couldn't appreciate you, doesn't mean nobody else would. If you think that, then you're full of shit." "I-I don't think that," I tell him and I can feel it getting harder to breathe in the elevator shaft. "Then what's the problem, angel?" He's asking, sliding his thumbs off my jaw to trail over my throat. I can feel his long fingers meet behind my neck. "Why are you comparing yourself to dolls for?" » [non-lowercase] This is a Harry Styles AU Fan Fiction with no ties to Harry Styles or the rest of the boys in One Direction. Story contains Mature and Explicit content. CONTENT WARNING: This story contains mentions and/or descriptions of abuse, alcohol, assault, domestic violence, drugs, mental illness, sex, violence, and vulgar language. » #1 in HARRYSTYLES #1 in HARRYEDWARDSTYLES #1 in HARRY #1 in FINE #1 in LINE #1 in FINELINE #1 in DARK #1 in SEATTLE #1 in 1D » started jan. 20, 2021 completed aug. 1, 2022

It's been a while since I've last seen him, and just the mere mention of this man's presence makes the blood in my veins sing. I can almost hear his voice calling my name. "Aurelia...." he'd slowly drag, his tongue licking his lips each time before pulling into a sinful smirk. "My muse...you have complete control of me, you know that, don't you?" I shudder at the memory, recalling the intensity of his green gaze. He'd always call me his muse, his inspiration. His golden girl. My mouth runs dry. I want nothing to do with this man; so why is it that my body disobeys me? Why is it that goosebumps rise on my skin at the thought of seeing him again? *mature and explicit content*

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.*

//april showers bring may flowers// she was an angel, an angel trapped in the devils game, harry was no saint but at least he knew he wasn't a monster. she was an angel, that harry was sure, he wasn't a saint, but she knew better. [highest ranking: #1 in harry]