Psycho ➳ H.S.
- Reads 2,566,213
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- Parts 21
MatureComplete Sat, Nov 16, 20137h 20m
"He clenched his fists to bring himself back to earth, shutting off the tap. He stood stationary, wondering if anything he had been thinking for the last five minutes made any sense at all. Every thought was about her; he wanted her more than anyone. He came down to one conclusion: he was truly obsessed with her." Cover credit to @Nargles
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𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀, niall horan
† 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 /ˈ𝔩ɪ𝔪ə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ 𝔞𝔡𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔦𝔵𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫; 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔶; ∴ 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
One Word | H.S.
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.Complete
𝐁𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐇 : 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫
The night was ruthless, the wind howling as if mourning her pain. She stood at the edge of the bridge, eyes closed, ready to let go. But before she could jump, a strong hands yanked her back with force. She gasped, colliding against a stranger's chest, his grip firm, almost desperate. "What the hell are you doing?" His voice was rough, laced with anger, fear, and something else-something she couldn't name. She looked up, meeting his eyes that burned with intensity. He had never seen her before, yet he was drowning in her ocean-blue gaze, reading every scar, every betrayal, every reason she had to jump. His jaw clenched. "I won't let you do this," he muttered, his breath unsteady. "Not when someone out there is meant to find you.....even if it's a stranger like me." His fingers trembled as they held onto her, unwilling to let go. She blinked, surprised. No one had ever held her like that-like she was something precious, something worth saving. Will she ever get the love, she's willing to get? Will he be able to make her his,gave her that love she crave? Will she ever let someone claim her the way she couldn't imagine? Will he able to break the wall she has made around her heart? So many questions,want answer? Then you have to dive in to the journey of Vedant and abhigya.
ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕒 | H.S |
I lowered myself to my knees, biting my lip softly as I felt him walk up behind me. He brought his arm around me, his hand wrapping around the left side of my jawline, moving against it to the right. It took everything in me not to bite his arm as it passed in front of me. He stopped his hand right under my chin, his thumb pressing softly on my lower lip until my mouth hung open slightly. "Suck it." He said, his voice thick with lust. I took his thumb in my mouth, sucking it softly. With his other hand, he brought my face back against him, wrapping it tightly around my neck, "Good girl." He said, his green eyes barring down at me. His shirt hung open, the dark ink engraving his body illuminated by the small light in the room. His butterfly tattoo moving with his breath. "You remember the safe word?" He said sternly, and I nodded. "I need to hear you." He said, the grip around my neck slightly tighter. I released his thumb from my mouth, licking my lips, "Yes, sir." He smirked at me, his dimples devilishly appearing on his face as he bent down and kissed me deeply. - Harry Styles walks into an LA bar when Carolina Townes instantly captures his eye. From her sassy smug personality, to her free spirit, he becomes completely enamored. But can he grow past his dark ways, to fully appreciate her the way she wants to be. STORY WILL CONTAIN: Sexual content and drugs.Complete
CAROLINA // HS
You will drown in the sweet sorrow of the passion.Complete
✓ Wrong Moves and Knife Wounds /h.s./
"Tell me about the first person you ever loved." "I killed her." - Harry is found innocent in the eyes of the court of justice for the death of his girlfriend. But he feels more than guilty, and reaches out to a girl majoring in analytical psychology so she can analyze everything about his girlfriend up until the moment of her death. *trigger warning as the story does revolve around death* Highest Ranking: #694 in FanfictionComplete![Rough [H.S]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/36785678-256-k900423.jpg)
Rough [H.S]
"You're wet for me" Harry says. "Is that a good thing?" I ask "Perfect" Harry is the typical high school bad boy who's afraid of love. What does he do once he cant hide from it. Harry doesn't date, right? Jess is just trying to go by her senior year as quickly as possible. The annoying jock gets in the way. He always does. She tries her best to stay away but, is it really that simple?Complete
The Rich Kid ➝ h.s ( Sequel to TBK)
( DO NOT OPEN THIS BOOK UNLESS YOU HAVE READ THE FIRST ONE WHICH IS CALLED 'THE BLIND KID') (COVER BY @inkedtattoos :-)) " Can you take a picture with me, Harry? " I ask. I touch his arm, but he jerks away. I hadn't seen him in person in forever. I back up. His lips curl into a smirk, Ray Bans in his hand and a bottle of scotch in the other. " I'm sorta busy, " He spits, starting to walk away. I grab onto his arm again and he angrily turns around, throwing his arms in the air. " I have to go! Leave me the hell alone. You can get a picture later, " He shouts. The anger in his tone was apparent and his teeth were clenched together. I almost whimper, when he freezes. He was acting ridiculous. The sad thing was that this has been happening a lot. Everything was fine and then he started having sudden mood swings and then comes along him being rude to fans. ' Harry styles rude to fans ' made the cover of every newspaper and magazine in the world. He was screwed. He later earned respect back from people, when the whole thing blew over. I could tell he was relieved to say the least, but his ego has gotten bigger and bigger, just as his popularity grew; One directions popularity. " You sound familiar, " He whispers, gripping the bottle of scotch. I was scared it might break. " Do I know you? " He ask. I nod my head to myself, but don't say anything. He didn't need to know. I didn't want him to know. I hated that he was acting like this. The Harry I knew would never do this. I could feel a tear fall down my cheek and I turn to walk away. The air smells odd and the blinking lights twinkle in the distant. I keep walking even when I hear his voice calling for me. " Wait! Come back! " He yells. I keep walking.Complete
† 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 /ˈ𝔩ɪ𝔪ə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ 𝔞𝔡𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔦𝔵𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫; 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔶; ∴ 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
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