"Leave me alone! Just stop!" I tried to push Harry away but he stood still. "Why do you hate me?" He asked, smirking slightly. His warm breath hit my face as he walked towards me. I rolled my eyes at his pathetic little smile. "Do you want a list? I could go on forever how you are the cockiest boy I have ever met!" Harry closed the gap between us. "Do you like me now?" I shook my head furiously. "How about now?" He asked, leaning in. Copyright © 2013 1D_Luver_xx

I stood there, watching, as she ran her fingers through the knots of my soul.

They met over cups of coffee and marlboro cigarettes and they made each other's day

in which he helps her trying to find herself again © Iighter

❝you're just the sperm donor; and that's all you'll ever be.❞ WARNING: THIS STORY IS NOT EDITED AND IS RUSHED AND, TO BE HONEST, NOT MY BEST WORK. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. © payning ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

"Does he make you feel good like I do?" "Harry s-stop, we need to stop," "Does he know that you like having your thighs rubbed like this?" The span of his hand found their way under my dress, onto my thighs, moving in circular motions. "I'm engaged Harry," He ignored what I said, his hands still on my thighs, "tell me darling, can he f.uck you like I can?" My breath hitched and my eyes fluttered as his fingers made their way to the band of my panties, "No. He can't, only you can Harry, only you." *will contain sexual content, inappropriate language and may contain kink and BDSM*

It's been 14 years since I last spoke a single word. 14 years of silence. The doctors told me I would never speak again. But even if I could speak Harry Styles would have rendered me speechless.

He took one look at her, and he knew she was the perfect kind of trouble: a good girl who knows exactly when to be bad.

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.

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.