Isabella Maxwell: a girl that craved adventure. Harry Styles: a guy that fights to give her one. Harry Styles AU // This story has absolutely nothing to do with Harry Styles. His physical traits are used but nothing more. This is fiction. // Includes mature scenes without warning. All Rights Reserved © jhildey 2014 *NOT TRANSLATING* This is fiction. The thoughts and feelings of a character does not represent my own. Please remember that.

SEQUEL TO ADORE (Please read Adore prior to reading Mint) "I never believed in misery, until it was me lying on the cologne soaked sheets, mascara running down my cheeks... crying. Gasping for air. Wishing that you'd come back home." // A continuation of the love story between Harry and Isabella. * WINNER of the 2016 Fan Fiction Awards for best -3M Harry Styles Fic! *NOT TRANSLATING* Harry Styles AU // This story has absolutely nothing to do with Harry Styles. His physical traits are used but nothing more. This is fiction. // Includes mature scenes without warning.

Evie Jones was seemingly in tact. Her life was a representation of perfection. Niall Horan was seemingly self-assured. His life a representation of indifference. On the outside, they were ideal; in no way flawed. But that was the outside- A mirage of falsity. Evie and Niall were platonic. An innocent friendship between two neighbours. But what happens when the outside walls begin to crumble and their built up perfections vanish? Will they step away? Or will they find love and stay? Niall Horan AU - this is fiction. *NOT TRANSLATING* This story will deal with issues that may cause personal triggers - depression, anxiety, and other mental disorders. If you struggle with any of these things, don't hesitate to talk to someone (a professional). You are loved and have a purpose.

If you build walls up around yourself, someone is eventually going to break them and you won't be able to prevent yourself from getting hurt. All Rights Reserved to stylesdimplxs, 2015. ©

Sequel to In Love With the Bully

What is Love at first sight? Getting butterflies in your stomach or having your palms sweat buckets? What defines it, and is it even possible to happen? I mean you can't possibly fall in love with someone you just met... Can you? Niall Horan- a native of Mullingar Ireland, the one who thought he would live there for the rest of his life with no complications whatsoever, until, his mother decides to pack up and move? Her job has offered her a new position and where shall they go? London to be exact. Niall is anything but okay with this but what choice does he have? He's only a minor and is in no position to live on his own. Harry Styles- a native of London, England, the one who thought his life was everything he wanted it to be, good friends, a nice little relationship going on, just a perfect life. But what happens when that all changes in a second. Suddenly he's left with a broken heart, no friends and in the wrong crowd. So he changes, from regular student to the school's new bad boy. These boys both have had their old lives ripped away from them, and when they first meet something sparks between the two of them, will they repair what was broken in the other? And quite possibly find a little love along the way? © 2013/2014 ForeverUnited93

I am only fifteen...how could this happen to me? I am nerdy-straight 4.0 GPA, never smoked, never done drugs, never had a boyfriend, never had sex, never tasted alcohol, so why did he have to kidnap me? And how does One Direction fit into this mess?

Fifteen years. The number of normal every-day life. One day. The number of time when my life suddenly took a 180. 8000. The number of miles I was taken away from my home. Two. The number of parents I will never see again, Two weeks. The number of weeks I lived with kidnappers, rapists, and murderers. Three times. The number of times I lost my innocence to three different men. Four months. The number of months I lived a semi-normal but hectic life with practically strangers. Two. The number of children I carried Two. The number of times I was kidnapped. One week. The number of weeks I was held hostage. Thirty. The number of times I probably passed out or fainted. One hundred plus. The number of times I cried and felt sorry for myself. Six months. The number of months I waited until I got to see my children. Thirty seconds. The number of seconds it took before my life fully crumbled before my very eyes. A moment. How long it took for it all to start over again. Save Them, Please? *Sequel to 'Help Me, Please?*