Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back. -- *18+ // Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content*

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.

"I was scared... but wouldn't you be? If a serial killer was utterly obsessed with you?" Highest rank: #2 in Thriller

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 the last word. "Fuck you." She replies just as quietly, taking a deep inhale as she holds our eye contact. She grinds her jaw as she stays looking at me, eyes scanning over my face with a huff. I hold my same scowl, still not backing away from her. I'm stuck in my place, my face not even an inch away from hers. I don't know how it happened, who started it, or what, but before I know it, her lips are on mine and I'm shoving her body backwards into the shelf. - Aubrey Hart and Harry Styles, costars in the movie "Forbidden Connection", hate each other. On screen, they're happily in love and yearning for each other's touch. Outside of that, though, it's constant yelling and fighting between the two of them. There's never a second of peace. Harry goes too far with what he says and Aubrey claps back in an instant. They don't clash very well whatsoever. When they're offered a big paycheck for a PR relationship, will the forced closeness become a little too real? Will they start to grow an understanding for each other? It's like they all say... there's a fine line between love and hate. **MATURE CONTENT** HIGHEST RANKINGS #1 in enemiestolovers #1 in harrystyles #1 in louistomlinson #1 in zaynmalik #1 in liampayne STARTED JANUARY 2021 - COMPLETED JULY 2021

//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]

"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

18+ / Very Mature "Please, this is like cliche-central. With a kinky twist." ††† I step under the hot stream of water, soaking my hair, and take a deep breathe. I try and clear my mind, focusing on the way the water feels hitting my body. I turn around, opening my eyes, only to shout out a curse and stumble back. Emma is directly in front of me, taking off her tank top, eyes glued to my body. I hadn't shut the curtains, thinking no one would be in here, and I didn't know if I was happy or mad I did that. I stood there speechless as her small hands grasped the bottom of her sports bra. I inhaled sharply when she pulled it up and over her head, exposing her breasts. They jiggled slightly as she tossed her clothes to the side, and I found my heart rate quickening at an alarming rate. "W-what are you doing?" I breathe out as she pulls her leggings down her body, leaving her in just a thong. "Showering." Emma tells me as if it's obvious.

My thoughts you can't decode.. Sequel : Escape Route.

I escaped my reality by reading fanfictions. They escaped their fanfictions to become my reality.

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.*