{completed} "I want to go home." I plead. "Do you? Because Lydia, I will take you home myself if that's what you want." He says lowly. I knit my brows together in confusion. He takes another step toward me. "But, don't you remember? There's people out there, Lydia." He steps right up to me and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "People who want to hurt you." he continues. I feel tears well up in my eyes as I let out a sharp exhale. Harry leans down so that his lips are right next to my ear and I tremble in pure terror. "And this time..." I feel him speak against my ear. "I won't be there to save you." he whispers darkly. -- ~crumble ; verb -to break apart into small fragments especially over a period of time due to deterioration. ~ loving him meant risking everything. he was trouble and she knew it... but it was so hard to stay away. Harry Styles is a criminal. He has criminal friends and lives a criminal lifestyle. Lydia White has been a good girl her whole life. A twist of fate causes the two of them to meet. Lydia falls for Harry but soon discovers who he is. Now, he has enemies out to get him...and her.

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.

☆ Taking place in a dystopian future, Harry lives a secluded life with an affliction that he loathes and keeps him from sleeping at night. In order to survive the treacherous world he's forced into, his only choice is to suffer silently inside of his own mind... until he finally meets the one person he's dreamed of for his entire life and then everything changes completely. ☆ "Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." - Oscar Wilde ☆ Most impressive rankings // #1 in Science Fiction, #5 in Science Fantasy, #20 in Future, #24 in Dystopian and #145 in Harry Styles! ☆ Please read with discretion.

18+ / Very Mature "Madison." "I need you." My voice is thick with emotion, quivering slightly at the thought of rejection. I didn't know if Harry wanted to take this further, if I was the only one feeling this level of longing. He takes his forehead away from mine and stares into my eyes, brows furrowed, "You need me?" His voice was full of disbelief, like the thought that I was pining for him in that way was impossible. "I need you." I repeat unwaveringly.

//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]

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.*

In a rural area of Europe that you wouldn't be able to locate on a map, lies the European Espionage Institute (EEI) - a secluded facility containing the most intelligent and highly skilled young criminals in the making. Rochelle Costello has already been a criminal for a number of years. She can easily hit a moving target, hack into the most secret databases and disarm a bomb in under a minute. But she's not like the others; she's in the minority of those who like to use their skills for the greater good. However, when she somehow finds herself tangled up in the dark secrets of the EEI, she realises that perhaps there is no such thing as the greater good after all, and only inherent evil. *currently updating* ©lonelyari 2022

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.

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