She stirred her tea slowly. "I'm not your babysitter, you know." "Says the girl hired to keep me from combusting." "I was told 'companion with boundaries.'" Harry narrowed his eyes, then grinned like the cat that found a string to pull. "That's adorable." "Don't flirt with me before I've had caffeine." "Wasn't flirting." He stepped closer, walking past her toward the fridge, close enough that his arm brushed hers - possibly by accident, possibly not. "If I flirted, you'd know." She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt her forehead. "What are we even doing here?" Harry paused, hand on the fridge handle, then looked over his shoulder with that look - the one she couldn't read yet. "Trying not to kill each other, apparently." © 2025 . All rights reserved.

"You shouldn't be here," he rasps. His voice is a low, dangerous vibration-carrying an edge of curiosity that makes my pulse skip. I force my gaze to remain steady, refusing to let him see the way my skin burns under his scrutiny. "And yet... here I am." A slow, predatory smirk tugs at his lips as he exhales a breath that smells of smoke and expensive whiskey. "Lucky for you... I'm in the mood to let it slide." Ariella lived for the music, but she was surviving on scraps. One high-end gig was supposed to be her way out. Instead, it was her way in-straight into the orbit of the city's most feared unit. Five men who own the shadows and dictate the chaos: the ruthless leader with a soul made of glass, the strategist who sees life as a game of chess, the silent marksman who never misses, the chaotic wild card who thrives on fire, and the calculating genius who knows everyone's price. In their world, trust is a death sentence and loyalty is bought in blood. As Ariella becomes the center of their dangerous games, she'll learn the hardest lesson of the underground: Some hearts only love once-and some mistakes leave scars that never stop bleeding. ONGOING AND MATURE CONTENT 18+

Maddie West survived a love that almost destroyed her. Now she's trying to build a life that doesn't revolve around what she lost. After the fallout of a relationship that left her hollowed out, Maddie is learning how to exist in the quiet that comes after heartbreak-the kind that doesn't leave scars you can point to, only memories you can't escape. She's stronger now. More guarded. And determined not to let the past rewrite her future. But healing is messy. Old wounds reopen. Familiar names still hurt. And just when Maddie thinks she's finally moving forward, the echoes of what she lost start drifting back into her life-pulling at parts of her she thought were gone for good. Because some loves don't disappear when they end. They linger. They haunt. And they change who you become. BACKWASH is a slow, emotionally heavy story about surviving a devastating love, learning how to stand on your own again, and what happens when the past refuses to stay buried. If you love: • heartbreak that lingers • emotional healing arcs • messy, realistic grief • soft but shattered heroines • and stories that feel painfully real this story is for you.

Mallory Monroe is a surgical intern at Grand Meadow Hospital. Harry Styles is a prestigious pediatric surgeon who will do anything to save his patients lives. But what will happen when their paths cross before they even make it through those hospital doors?

Harry's chicken is in her garden again. For the third time this week. "Styles!" she shout over the fence. "Your demon bird is attacking my sunflowers again!" He appears, slow and unbothered, leaning against the fencepost like he's got all the time in the world. "She's not attacking. She's exploring." "She's murdering." He grins. "Guess she's got taste." She crosses her arms. "I'll make stew." "Touch her," he says, "and I'll plow your garden flat." "Threats from a man who can't even keep a chicken home?" He looks at her, amused. "Wouldn't call her the only one sneaking over lately." And just like that, she's the one blushing redder than her poor, dying sunflowers.

When an anonymous threat attacks two rival spy organizations, Nicole Calvitto agrees to become the center of a faux alliance in order to combat the looming peril. Her job was simple: marry her organization's opposing heir, work together to solve the mysterious string of deaths, and in the meantime uncover any secrets her not-so-beloved new husband, Harry Styles, and his intellectual arrogance kept hidden. Unveiled is a fanfiction about spies, secrets, and a man who thinks he knows everything.

Twenty something corporate analyst, Rhona, struggles to feel love beyond an intimacy level. When she meets her new bosses stepson, Harry, they engage in a secret relationship with one rule - no feelings, just sex. But will Rhona's past and Harry's persistence jeopardise their simple arrangement. Copyright 01/01/2023

After a chance meeting in Paris, two strangers bound by grief find something unexpected in each other-quiet understanding, and the beginning of something like healing. But love forged in the dark isn't always easy, especially when fame, silence, and old wounds get in the way. A story of loneliness, longing, and the quiet kind of love that asks you to stay. --- This story contains themes of grief, depression. Reader discretion is advised. I have a lot of times these days and found stuff i've never published, so i'm trying to post them!

'A shameful tragedy it is that our stars failed to align, even though the record will show that we tried so many times.' We're taught to fear the monsters in the dark, the ones that chase you up the stairs, the ones that hide under your bed but what about the ones hiding in the depths of your basement? Have you been taught to fear the basement? The Ripley's and the Styles' are two very different families, sworn enemies. Harry Styles and Emersyn Ripley have never known anything different, the hatred burned into their veins however can't outweigh the deep rooted curiosity in their souls. "This was the story of Romeo and Juliet, how did you think it would end?"

Sometimes, when I'm off tour, I get this itch. Not literal. Metaphorical. Tour ends, the lights shut off, and suddenly I'm just... still. No crew, no call times, no adrenaline. My body rests, but my brain? My brain starts looking for motion. Sometimes, that motion looks like gym sessions, long walks, locking myself in a studio with nothing but an acoustic and my ego. And sometimes? It looks like sex. Not tabloid shit. No god-complex orgies. Just something familiar. Women I trust. People who text back with a wink and nothing more. Like Sasha. Like Lou. Not like Lena. I thought it'd be casual. Banter, late-night texts, sex with no strings. But Lena doesn't do casual. And I'm starting to think I don't either - not with her.