Eileen Mae Montgomery, better known as El has been working for the Gucci special designs team for two years now. It's her dream job, but theres one thing she hates about it. The rude, narcissist celebrities. When she is assigned to work with Harry Styles to brainstorm and create his tour suits for his second world tour as a solo artists she was going to treat it as she would any other job assignment. That is until he asked her and some members of her team to join him on tour. El's was going to treat him the same as any other celebrity, but Harry had other ideas. She styled his clothes, but he didn't care about the clothes she put on him, he was more interested in what would come after the show, when the sequins and fun colors turned into a pile on the floor. EXCERPT: "I like you El." "Stop saying that. Stop saying you like me." He drops his hands, looking to me in confusion. "So you want me to lie?" He asks, smirking at my annoyance. "No I'd rather you keep it to yourself." I take my phone out , my annoyance rising, his smirk growing. "You've got three minutes before I leave, so talk." I tell him. "You're timing our conversations now?" He laughs a bit. "Two and a half minutes." "Okay fine. You don't show any interest in me unless we're..." His voice trails off, and I roll my eyes. "Unless we're sleeping together... yes, and your point?" COMPLETED!

"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

Golden Book Two Golden. My favorite song written off the album - the first song I wrote about her - Aurelia Moon. My golden girl. She's had me wrapped around my finger since the night we met. Our memories run on repeat in my mind everyday since I last saw her. She's the light of my life, my sun and moon. Only now, her gaze is not filled with light; her eyes are hard and glaring, and I'm at fault. My heart plummets and sinks in my chest but I force a smile on the outside. "Aurelia..." I say with a forced smirk. I love saying her name and I know she always loved hearing it. "Still my muse, even now." My heart quickens with hope when I see the goosebumps rise on her soft skin. Even after all this time. *mature and explicit content*

It's been a while since I've last seen him, and just the mere mention of this man's presence makes the blood in my veins sing. I can almost hear his voice calling my name. "Aurelia...." he'd slowly drag, his tongue licking his lips each time before pulling into a sinful smirk. "My muse...you have complete control of me, you know that, don't you?" I shudder at the memory, recalling the intensity of his green gaze. He'd always call me his muse, his inspiration. His golden girl. My mouth runs dry. I want nothing to do with this man; so why is it that my body disobeys me? Why is it that goosebumps rise on my skin at the thought of seeing him again? *mature and explicit content*