"And what is that?" He says placing his hand next to my head and leaning against the wall, his face being so close to mine again, that I can't help myself but stare at all his detailed features. The small scar over his emerald green eyes, the mole at the side of his nose, and the one on the right side of his upper chin. I had one in the exact same spot. His flawless skin, blushy lips, and the way he was staring at me right now. "You want the keys?" I ask, staring back at his eyes right in front of me. "Beg," I say softly. *** TW: this story contains mature and explicit content

Shark Bait: One who is in a precarious or vulnerable position. Harry's life consists of power and control, one where he makes the rules and everyone follows. Indigo's life consists of trailing after those with power and control, thirsting for knowledge on how they manage to maintain and achieve such authority in an illegal business. Take a dive into the world of unsanctioned aquatic escapades......but only if you can swim. *This story contains mature and explicit content*

[COMPLETED] He was tobacco rolled up in white paper and placed between her lips. And she would strike a match and bring the flame close enough to touch him, watching the smoke billow. Pretending that he was good for her. -- !mature content! ©SONDERHARRY

✔️ COMPLETE After her sister breaks both her legs in a climbing accident, Venus Sweeney has to step in as a model in her absence. Instead of spending her summer getting ready for her last year of veterinary school, she is now set to spend time in Italy with a painter who has a bad reputation, a permanent frown, and an immense talent. Forced in each other's company, neither think they could ever hate another person more. However, a whole month, Italian mountain air, summer, and art, might just be able to change their minds. Eventually. Enemies to Lovers AU Affectionately dubbed painter!harry🎨 © 2019 - 2020

1988. Self discovery wasn't something that came easy to Mabel, in fact, she'd refused to deal with the matter since decisions seemed to always be made for her. She wasn't sure how she'd ever get by, living in the small suburban town within Los Angeles. Although one thing she did know, her sister was coming back to town for the summer. What she didn't know, was why the mysterious drummer boy would smoke marlboro cigarettes and only speak to her when he felt like it. It was quite frankly irritating having to meet his gaze everywhere she looked, but then again, it would only be for the summer. *this story contains mature and explicit themes*

MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT. Viewer Discretion is advised. *The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.* *This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.* The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth, and strength through the power of friendship, and true love. With a punk twist. In 2010, living in suburban CHICAGO IL, Alice Mariposa Anderson, 19, wishes for a teenage dream of sex, drugs, romance and fame. A Punk Rock life is a fantasy that corrupts her daydreams every waking hour, and her love of music only fuels it--but it's a life that'll only come true if she abandons the strict religious rules of her parents Christian household, and takes a chance on her new punkstar neighbors across the street. ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ Harlow Silver is a 21 y/o drummer for an underground scene/punk band named Bloody Valentine, moving from a loud, trashy New York City apartment to a quiet house in Chicago to escape his grim, horrific past. While also seeking out answers only Chicago could give him. But when he moves in across the street from a prudent, annoying, religious girl looking to bust out from her protective shell, he's forced to face his fears and break through the mental barriers that bind him to his trauma. And maybe, just maybe, love again. ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ Enemies to Lovers. Slow burn. A.U.

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.