Harry Styles isn't my father, he's my stepfather. Well ex-stepfather. My mother married him when I was 18, she was 36 and he was 20. Totally gross right? Little did I know that she was already knocked up when they got married. They were a happy little family while I was living with my ACTUAL father and going to college. Two years later, my mother left Harry for a man even younger then him and took him to the cleaners. She got full custody, child support and spousal support to pay the way of her and her new boy toy while Harry had to give her his house and move into a small apartment. It's been three years since the divorce my mother wants me to come back for her wedding, the wedding Harry paid for. I felt terrible for Harry but I was too ashamed of my own mother to reach out. But now she's left me no choice because he's the only one that can help me. Will he even answer the phone? I haven't talked to him in almost four years, I don't know what state he's in having his son ripped from him or all of his hard earned money taken away. All I know is that I'm at his doorstep and he's about to get the surprise of his life. ______________ ⚠️ Will contain an assload of foul language as well as sexual content. While some names may be real this is an alternative reality based story that is 100% mine.

"Oh, but I think you will. You're just dying to tear everything apart, aren't you baby?" Harry narrows his eyes in amusement, a malicious smile playing on his lips. I feel a surge of boldness at his condescending words, the cool of my pen tucked behind my ear startling me slightly. "So what if I am?" "You're just so full of vengeance, yeah?" Harry's bloody fingers tap underneath my chin, careful not to smear any of the substance on his fingers on my body. "Yes." I cock my head in defiance, not wanting to give in quite yet. "You know, maybe if you weren't such a bitch, I'd think you're hot." A slow, sadistic smile crosses Harry's face like he's thoroughly enjoying having me in a position like this. I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest like a shield of my very own. "I'd prefer you didn't think about me at all." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Scarlett Thatcher is hired as a publicist for the now world-famous band, Ecstasy. A young woman picking herself up from old habits, Scarlett is looking for vengeance, ready to go to any length necessary. Harry Styles is the lead singer for Ecstasy, ready to protect himself from the topsy-turvy famous world. Full of secrets, he's not afraid to scare anyone straight out of his life. What will happen when these two ticking bombs collide together?

-completed- His breath tampered on my neck as he backed me into a corner. "Look at me." he demands in a disturbingly-menacingly-calm tone. I couldn't. He wants to hurt me. He wants me dead. I felt his paradoxically gentle, soft hand grip my chin, lifting my head up. "If you want to keep that pretty little head of yours," he mutters. "then I'd suggest you fucking listen to what I say, darling." . Charlotte Thompson seeks thrill and adventure. She yearns for a change from her boring, average life. But what could happen when she searches too far? Perhaps a run in with a passionate green eyed, curly haired criminal and part time musician with a deceivingly innocent smile who flips her life around. Maybe he was the thrill she needed. - THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT!!! YOUVE BEEN WARNED!

Dark Romance | BDSM | Power Play Harry Styles doesn't hire assistants. He breaks them. Cold, calculating, and ruthlessly dominant, he runs his empire with an iron will-and expects his personal life to follow the same rules. Enter Lucy Berryford. Shy. Fragile. Perfect prey. He expected her to run like the others. She doesn't. Behind her quiet eyes is a hunger she doesn't understand. Behind his sharp suit is a man who knows exactly how to feed it. Rules become rituals. Obedience becomes pleasure. And pain? That becomes a gift. He gives her a collar instead of a contract. She gives him everything. But in a world where love is control, and trust is power, one mistake could destroy them both. She was meant to be temporary. Now he's addicted. And she's kneeling willingly at the feet of the devil.

// "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.

Not everything can be healed by a medicine. ~~~ "Who are you, Harry Styles?" The smirk on his face disappeared and he turned extremely serious. His face was so cold that it kinda scared me. "You don't want to know, darling." ~~~ Kennedy Simmons is a twenty-years-old girl who has nothing in this world except for her exceptionally high intelligence. Her whole life changes completely when she witnesses something that she shouldn't have and she is abducted by a mysterious man with green eyes who keeps changing everything around her, including herself. What will happen when her curious side wins over her logical side and she decides to find out more about this intriguing man? What if they're more alike than they initially thought? What if she's more involved in everything than they thought? What if he isn't the villain of the story? // The story contains mature themes. Read at your own risk.

I cupped her face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs in circles over her cheeks. She was having trouble finding words to describe what she felt, and I could relate. I loved her more than words could describe and telling her I loved her was almost an insult to my true feelings for her. My heart ached at just the thought of her not being with me. I honestly don't know what I would have done with myself if I had never went to that stupid party and met her. But, I have a feeling, we would have found each other, eventually. This love's too strong to ignore forever. Both of us had pieces of us missing, that neither of us were aware of until we met. We were like two puzzle pieces that finally connected. "I love you," I whispered, leaning my forehead against hers. "I love you more," she replied in a small whisper, her hand reaching up to caress my cheek while the other rested on my thigh. I shook my head, annoyed and charmed by the audacity she had to think that she could possibly love me more. "I love you most," I persisted, causing her head to moved away from mine as she looked into my eyes. "Always?" She questioned, her eyes unreadable for a moment before a flash of fear passed through. "Forever," I assured her and meaning it. We could live an entire lifetime or for eternity, and my love for her would never fade. It would only grow. There was nothing in this world that would ever change the way I loved her. My, Katarina.

"I can tell you're going to be a challenge." He almost growled. "I like that." Harry smirked. He dipped his head, nudging mine to the side before I felt his lips press to the skin of my neck. The ends of his curly hair tickled my cheek. Harry reluctantly released one of my arms so he could hold the back of my head, preventing me from escaping. I instantly placed my free hand on his chest in protest, attempting to push him away as I felt him harshly suck. "Harry." I begged. I fisted the front of his t-shirt in between my fingers; the sharp pain intensified as his teeth grazed the skin. His breathy laugh fanned over the area as I desperately struggled against the male's hold before he continued to draw blood to the surface. The sensation was somewhat eased with the attention of his soft lips. But Harry wouldn't allow me that comfort for long, nipping hungrily at my skin with his teeth. I gasped when his tongue licked over the newly sensitive skin, planting a few kisses. He blew over the sloppy wet spot, igniting a chill through me entirely. Harry stepped back smirking as I yanked my arm from his large hand. My fingers drifted up to my neck, sucking in a sharp breath when I dabbed over the sore spot. I whimpered in fright as he drew closer. "You're mine now." He spoke in a hushed tone. THIS IS NOT MY WORK! ALL CREDIT GOES TO ORIGINAL WRITER: @H28

† 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.