If you were to mention her name in a locker room, or in a girls bathroom, you would always get the same look and smirk sent in your direction. Because she was an urban legend. Someone people told their younger siblings about when they wanted to brag about how awesome it was to be a teenager. The details and the ending would always change, but the conclusion to the story was always that; "that girl had some serious daddy issues." (Art on cover credited to http://athousandclouds.tumblr.com/)

please don't comment crap on this story, I made it when I was very young and clueless. I understand it sucks and it's gross. // "You're nobody important, just a little girl to fill my sexual needs" Harry's sickening voice is adamant. Tears prick my eyes, but I've got to stay strong. There is no way he will see me cry. "So that's all I ever was to you? After everything we'd been through?" I take a deep breath and shut my eyes, wanting to erase all of our memories together. "Don't think of it as a one time thing." He says, grabbing his coat off of the couch, as well as throwing on his shoes. "What do you want me to think of it as then!?" I yell, a tear or two slipping down my pale cheeks. All this time we'd spent had to have meant something to him, it had too have. "Think of it like this Arabella, in my mind no strings were attached in our 'relationship', everything was more so.." He trails off opening the door ready to leave. "Well more so like first person who falls in love is the first person to be..." And with that I'm left to a shut door and a broken heart. ___ Copyright © 2014 TheDarkestOnes |All Rights Reserved| Highest Rank: #1 in yes daddy #19 in fanfiction #5 in sir #4 in after warning: self harm/rape content, read at your own risk.

***WARNING: OF VIOLENT AND SEXUAL NATURE*** ***THIS BOOK IS UNDER EDITING. PLEASE CONSIDER THIS WHILE READING, THANK YOU** ❝I think violence in a cinematic context can be, if handled in a certain way, very..seductive.❞ I was innocent, way too innocent in a way that allowed people to screw me over. Including the flithy rich pricks that I called my parents. I didn't have any edge or charisma to my walk, and that's something I was told a lot. Then there was the troubled boy, Harry Styles, who stared into your soul, just because he could. Him, he had charisma, and the edge, and everything that I wanted. And I wanted him to teach me. Give me intensive, heated lessons. Sex lessons. o r i g i n a l ↬ Watch TRAILER before READING ↫ Credits for trailer: SOCKMONKEY7707 ©Floz__