[COMPLETED] where she sat and ate her strawberries, while he smoked his cigarettes. -harry styles au -set in summer of 1998 -mentions rape, sexual assault, abuse, fighting, and suicide

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.

"Even Gods favourite angel was a sinner, baby."

she was a beautiful soul trying her best to help and he was damned, stuck in his own head started : october 14th, 2020 finished : - *warning* this story is a mix soft and dark harry so therefore it will contain mature subject matter

a killer instinct was coined in the early boxing world as a protective, cold mentality that surges to one's consciousness and turns one into a vicious defense practitioner. everyone has a killer instinct. for harry styles, that ruthless mentality always seemed to circle back to one singular thing - her. --- but she doesn't let me go far, keeping our faces inches apart and my lips curl up as i chew this gum in between my teeth. her fingers roughly press into my cheeks and she smiles back with a devilish, lustful glint in her eyes. "you're gonna want me in control more often after i'm done with you, baby." she whispers, taking me aback with the boldness of her statement as she simply smiles before letting go of my face with a light shove. i slowly scoff and she hums as i shake my head at her. "yeah? prove it." i taunt and she sinks her straight white teeth into her bottom lip with a smirk. --- || mature and explicit content, read at your own risk * ||

To love a psycho, a psycho you must become. // COMPLETED // {WARNING: This fiction contains extreme violence, drug abuse, explicit sexual content and features strong language not suitable for minors. Discretion is advised.}

[COMPLETE] Having a crush on your boss is no big deal. Right? Talulah Knight is the assistant to the CEO of a major architecture firm. She loves Madonna, baking, oh and she is in love with her boss, but both of them are completely oblivious. With late nights in the office and boring work events, the lines between professional and unprofessional start to blur.

[18+] A co-written novel. "You will shelter me, my love, and I will shelter you." Harry keeps to himself. He has his job, his apartment, his therapy appointments and all the entertainment he needs third wheeling his best friend Niall and his girlfriend, Carson. When the duo invite Harry on a weekend camping trip, he meets Dallas, Carson's best friend and roommate. Come to find out, there's only one tent for the two of them. They fall into each other's orbit, leaving behind all they know for the chance to have something they've never had before. Harry and Dallas soon learn that they don't need the walls of a tent for shelter, they only need each other. TRIGGER WARNINGS AND DISCLOSURE: This novel is maturely rated and will contain extreme sexual content, strong language, and other mature themes such as abuse and abandonment. MATURE 18+

"tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe." well, this is it. the sun and the moon. complete opposites. one formed from the collapse of its own being. one formed from a collison of two planets that weren't meant to be. live by the sun, love by the moon. tw: mature content, anxiety attacks, depression, (mentions of) suicide, self harm, ed.

***completed*** NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON Harry Styles. The strange one. The freak. The one who was too kind for his own good, trapped in a world where his job was to bring people pain. Sophia 'Spice' Winters. The dancer. The stripper. The one who who trapped in a world where her job was to provide men with nothing but pleasure. -- "What don't you understand?" Harry seethed, his hands gripping the roots of his hair. "I'm not the good guy here, Sophia. I'm bad, everything about me is fucking bad." Harry looked as if he was about to rip his hair out, his wild eyes shinning with madness. He looked unhinged, raw and angry. It should of frightened me. That look alone should of been enough to send me running. He didn't look like the shy man I first met. He looked...crazy. His fingers were coated in red, stained with the blood of another. He didn't seem to care though. "If I was you Sophia, I would run away. Run as far away as you possibly can, because I promise you...An evil part of me won't let you go, and I hate myself for that. I want you to run away, to a place that I can't ever find you. You'll be safe that way."