"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!

Abscond (verb): to leave hurriedly and secretly, typically to avoid detection of or arrest for an unlawful action such as theft. // "They had to run, run for their lives." WARNING: Extremely explicit sexual content and language. Only read if you are comfortable with mature content. All Rights Reserved to harryartwork, 2016 ©

Hired Gun /ˈhʌɪə ɡʌn/ noun NORTH AMERICAN (informal) a hired bodyguard, mercenary, or assassin.

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.*

*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2. Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo. "Something can be both delicate and violent" *** Harry lowers his eyes at me as he backs me up against the wall, the red lighting only making him look more menacing "You wanted the bad guy Abby? Wanted the villain?" My heart his running a hundred mile an hour when my breathing hitches in my throat as his hand comes up to wrap his long fingers tight around my jaw forcing me to look him in the eye. "Well now you've got him" He leans his face close to mine, his voice dropping to a low warning murmur that has my stomach hitting the floor. "...Run little mouse" *** BOOK STARTED JULY 1 2019 COMPLETED JULY 2021

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of asking random useless questions that we've been going back and forth with for the past half hour. I stare at my feet swinging back and forth, looking down at the alleyway behind the building; pondering the question over in my head that I often wonder too much about. I glance over to Harry when he doesn't answer straight away and he's watching me with a look I can't read. "Unless you were a bird or could fly, it would just feel like falling. Because you'd know you were going to hit the ground" he decides to answer, staring at me like he's somewhat bothered that I asked him that. I look back down at the ground, and shrug my shoulders, "I think if you didn't care about hitting the ground it could feel like flying for a few seconds." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ STARTED 11TH MARCH 2019 - ONGOING

❝It was the minute that I couldn't see those green eyes anymore that everything went dark.❞

the boy scratched at the skin on his wrist so hard it bled. he'd been doing it all summer. so much so that the skin on his left arm was nothing but scabs and irritated skin. it itched. it constantly fucking itched and it hurt. but the subtle pain was a decent daily distraction from his mind. and harry liked that. there's only so much dark magic a person can suffer before it leaves a mark. harry potter 8th year fanfic WARNING: 18+

They never told you that the monster under your bed could have a set of beautiful forest green eyes and an angelic smile. -a story in which a girl is taken by a notorious gang member that lives beneath the world's feet. THIS IS A TRILOGY BOOK (1/3) *COMPLETED* HIGHEST RANKINGS #1 in harrystyles #1 in fanfiction #1 in one direction NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS FOR THIS OR THE REST OF THE TRILOGY! MATURE READ! ALL RIGHTS RESERVED @happydays1d/// CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SEXUAL CONTENT. READ AT OWN RISK///