"Think you can take me?" I arched an eyebrow. "Are you doubting me?" She answered. // Natalie Perkins, born in London. The FBI is after her for the assassination of fourteen men. All of them brutally murdered one day of the week, all of them left with a rose on their laps... and sitting over a pool of crimson. Harry Styles, born in London. He never thought the expression 'caught in the crossfire' would be so literal, but he somehow finds himself tangled in a huge mistake involving his number one case: Ms. Natalie Perkins. And suddenly, he realizes he likes it. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @straightvodka2011 TW: detailed torture and murder, lgbtq+ scenes, explicit content, vulgar/adult language. READ AT OWN RISK

Book Song: Bad Blood by Sleeping At Last His eyes glowed. The emerald rimmed orbs dilating as he stares at me in the dark. The sense of intensity the eyes of the boy hold make me weak, losing all sense in knowing what to do. He moves closer, hands reaching out, encasing my own hand in his. He brings it to his lips and presses a cold kiss to the back. I stand frozen, unable to move, watching as the nameless boy presses his chest to mine, leaving no space between us. The coolness of his hand presses to the nape of my neck, my eyes closing as he keeps me close. The wind stings my body as I stand in the middle of the alley, the mysterious boy looking deep into my eyes after I open them once again. His eyes softly looking at me as he holds my hand tight, holding it at if he was afraid I would push him away as the other lay limp at my side. His thumb brushes over my jaw and my eyes look at the ground. His head moves to the side, feeling his breath on my ear. “You’re mine,” he whispers, breathing heavily into my ear. He lets me go and I watch as his dark figure walks away, leaving me speechless. I can’t move, his enticing personality making me want him, letting me stand here in my thoughts. The only thing I have is his eyes; I don’t even have a name.

*Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content* [Completed - 01/21/21] Preview: "Tell me something, Killer." Harry murmured. "Tell me what goes on inside your head." "You don't want to see what goes on in my head," I said with a short laugh. "I do." "My thoughts would suffocate you." "Try me." I took a deep breath. "Okay, well right now I'm thinking about what would happen if I just stood up and jumped off the roof." Harry shifted beside me. "My heart would stop beating the second you were in the air." I glanced over at him. "At least give me the option to jump with you," Harry said with a chuckle. "I'm sure I could find a way to save us before we reached the bottom."

"I can feel you take control of who I am and all I've ever known." A story in which a healing young woman falls in love with the man who shines as bright as she wishes she could. TW: story contains minor sexual content. *NOT CURRENTLY ACCEPTING TRANSLATIONS*

[COMPLETED] A man so mentally unbalanced drowning in a world of judgement and nonacceptance finds himself in front of the only woman that will treat him as an equal. But will his undeniably demeaning track record of the amount of times blood has been stuck under his fingernails cause yet another therapist to give up on him? Or, for once, will he finally be capable of loving someone other than his first murder and himself?

"For the longest time, I've felt as though I'm drowning." (boxer!harry) *smut warning*

It has been 3 months since Scarlett's disappearance. Her father, an FBI agent, has been looking for her everywhere since then. He knows something has happened to her, something bad. He remembers the last time he heard from her, she called him in tears, in the middle of the night. He had hurt her again. And he also knows that Harry Styles is not going to get away with it. All rights reserved©| curatedbyharry

[completed] "I'm Harry Styles. The artist." ~~ Two heartbroken individuals happen to stumble into each others lives and completely change everything. Read to follow Aurora and Harry's journey through these ups and downs as they fall in love but can't seem to escape their past lives. ~~ Aurora Honeycutt, the florist. Harry Styles, the artist. Or as they like to call each other - the Flower and the Capolavoro. ~~ (Book 1) *story contains mature and explicit content*

"So, what possessed you to spend your evening at this shitty party?" I asked, releasing the taste of my cigarette with my words. His gaze decidedly landed on my lips that were wrapped around my burning cigarette as he finally spoke. "I guess I'm a bit of a masochist." He shrugged and a sharp laugh escaped my throat at his words. "What's your excuse?" "Oh, I'm the one throwing this shitty party, so I guess I'm a bit of a sadist," I replied with a shrug of my own and his laugh was just as sharp as mine had been. All humor left his voice, however, when he said, "Yeah? Fuck, that's hot." //After a fateful meeting at a house party, Stevie never thought she would see Harry Styles again. However, a year later when a mutual friend tells her Harry's band is looking for a new bassist, she jumps at the opportunity. Much to Stevie's disappointment, Harry doesn't seem to remember her, or the night they shared, and he certainly has a darker side when he isn't trying to get into her pants.// Mature content warning// This story contains adult themes and explicit sexual content.

// "Y'know, you're just like your name." "What do you mean?" "You crept into my life and now I'm covered in you, wrapped up in Ivy in every aspect of my life, m'surrounded by you." // In which sometimes work is more than capitalist labour and sometimes you just have to wait a few years for your soulmate.