#yeah i made lambert irish so what

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt for youuuu (they’re pulled from lists)

“Don’t you touch a hair on his head!”

For Lambden? 💗💗

this is especially for you because you're my K-Drama buddy

modern au - actor au - mutual pining - vaguely based on an episode of Boys Over Flowers

(this was written before I made my break announcement)

yes I made a poster for season 2 of a fake show

tw: blood mention (tv show special effects), injury (also special effects), depictions of fake angst with a real happy ending!

---

Aiden groaned, trying to muffle the half-involuntary sound by burying his face into the side of his enormous red wolf plushie. He sat back on the couch and crossed his legs beneath him, staring the toy wolf straight in the eyes.

“Good gods, Milly, what am I going to do with myself?” he whined. He tugged his hood up to cover his curls and pouted. “I can’t just waltz back onto the set and pretend I’m not head-over-heels for that stupid, sexy asshole. I may be an actor but I’m not that good.”

It was his first day back on the set of Love in the Wolf’s Den, and Aiden wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself; a side character coming back for an episode here or there was pretty normal but he had somehow become a fan favorite, so the writers invited him back to join the regular cast. Under normal circumstances it would have been a dream come true - Wolf’s Den had turned out to be the network’s largest commercial success in the last decade - but he was co-starring with his celebrity crush and that was turning out to be a bit of a problem.

Without really thinking about it, Aiden pulled up the video app on his phone and searched Wolf’s Den Leo Rescue Scene. When the all-too-familiar thumbnail appeared at the top of his search results he tapped it eagerly, perhaps a little too eagerly. He pulled his favorite fleece blanket over his head to make a half-hearted fort and zoned out, staring down at the back of his own head as the clip played on the tiny screen.

“I’ll never tell you where they’re hiding!” Aiden heard himself cry, voice hoarse. He’d been tied to a chair with his hands behind his back and his ankles fastened to either leg, leaving his legs slightly spread; the director had called it ‘innocently sexy’ and Aiden had unfortunately agreed. He spent the day focusing a Herculean amount of self-control on not embarrassing himself in front of Melitele, the cast, and everyone. On the screen the villain backhanded him, sending his head snapping to the side, brown curls bouncing rather majestically.

It had taken them ages to get that shot.

“Oh you’ll tell me everything I want to know, pretty kitty, or you’ll get much worse than a slap,” the villain, portrayed by the famous Cahir, sneered down at him. Cahir grabbed Aiden’s curly brown hair and Aiden winced in real life - that had actually hurt. “Nobody knows where you are. Nobody’s coming to your rescue, Leo. Give it up, kitty cat, and perhaps I’ll be kind enough to let you live.”

“Don’t you touch a hair on his head!” one of the three lead characters shouted as he kicked the warehouse door open. Aiden melted further back against the couch, sighing dreamily into the otherwise empty trailer as Lorenzo (depicted by the love of Aiden’s life, the apple of his eye, his sun moon and stars: Lambert O’Rory) raced to his side. Lorenzo pulled a knife from his pocket and waved it at the villain, eyes frantic. His hand rested firmly atop one of Aiden’s thighs and the Aiden watching the video remembered that sensation vividly.

The heat of Lambert’s hand had burned through the thin denim of Aiden’s acid-wash jeans and into the skin of his leg. Aiden had wondered - as he remained tied to the chair for the following three re-shoots of Lambert’s entrance - if there would be a perfect outline of the actor’s hand somehow imprinted there when he took his pants off later. Unfortunately it wasn’t there when he peeked. No marker remained to hint that Lambert’s hand had ever been there at all, even though the phantom sensation of that too-hot palm continued to haunt him over the summer filming break. Aiden bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head to clear it again: “Fuck.”

Someone knocked at his trailer door and Aiden practically threw his phone across the trailer in surprise. He bounced to his feet and grabbed the counter when one foot got stuck in his blanket, nearly tripping him to the floor. “Sorry, it’s unlocked! Come on in!”

Aiden was just pulling his hood back away from his face when none other than Lambert O’Rory himself poked his head in through the door with a grin, “Hey! Good to see you again, Aiden. Heard from Jask that you’re going to be a regular this season.”

“Uh, yeah,” Aiden nodded, swiping a lock of dark hair behind his ear and fiddling with the ringlet nervously. “I hope you don’t mind!”

“Well honestly I was coming to check in and hear how you were feeling about it,” Lambert admitted. He was rubbing one hand up and down the back of his neck looking almost nervous about something. His long coppery hair shone like a crown in the early morning light and Aiden wanted nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers through it; his burgeoning daydream was interrupted when Lambert said, “I hope you’re alright with the direction they’re taking our characters and our, uh… relationship.”

“Wha- huh?” Aiden blinked stupidly. He’d been so distracted by the thought of seeing Lambert again that he’d totally forgotten to see if the Script Manager had his Pages ready yet. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, well…” Lambert half-grinned. “I hope you don’t mind being my love interest.”

Aiden can only nod and send a quick thank you to whichever god grants wishes to foolish B-list actors.

"It'll be nice to have a friend on set," Lambert added. "I won't have to watch Geralt and Jaskier make out while I try to eat lunch."

"Are they really that affectionate all the time? I thought they just turned it up for the tabloids."

"Oh no... it's terrible. But their on-screen chemistry is honest."

"Yeah..." Aiden thought about the way Lambert had cradled his 'unconscious' body against that strong, broad chest at the end of last season, sobbing for him to wake up after an accident knocked him out. "Maybe we can outshine them this season, really shake up the ratings."

"You think?" Lambert asked, leaning into Aiden's space.

Aiden squeaked and blushed an even brighter shade of pink. "Maybe."

Lambert grinned wolfishly - appropriate, Aiden thought - and turned away towards the set. "See you later, babe."

"Yeah," Aiden muttered, heart palpitating dangerously in his chest. The whole world felt tipped sideways in a wonderful, glorious way. "Later."

[watchmegetobsessed]

ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn��t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

 Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

“I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

 At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

 Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[magiefish]

hhhhhhhhhh guess who drew all the batim characters in prep for the comic they’re making!

yeah so it took like 4 days to draw all these guys, and it was actually pretty fun figuring out colours and designs and stuff!

(also, update on the Reveries Twisted comic, I have a plan for the first chapter but i have like, 7 tests next week and I haven’t started drawing it yet so it’s definitely not going to be coming out anytime soon sdfgsdfsj but i am still working on it!)

anyway, i felt like writing little descriptions for every character, so feel free to read these below the ‘keep reading’ line if you feel like it! My ask box is also always open, so if u have any questions feel free to ask

Bertrum Piedmont-he/him, gay/ace

-Started working as a mechanic at about 15 and worked his way up from there -Everyone in the studio @ him: why are u british -His big ego often gets in the way of things, but at his core he's a good person (doing bad shit but ultimately having good intentions is common among these guys shdgfs) -Wlw & mlm solidarity w/ Lacie, who is his most trusted confidant and friend -Actually treats his employees well, even when they do basically nothing all day, so he does a lot of work himself most of the time Linda Stein-she/her, straight as a ruler -Parents immigrated from Spain -She's very catholic and very into 'traditional family values' and that sort of stuff -She is sweet, but her strict morals and black and white ethics often make her do unintentional harm -She is also pretty oblivious to most things Jack Fain-he/him & they/them, pan/ace, OCD -Mother immigrated from China to France, and then he moved to America, it's confusing -Can play the violin really well, but is terrible at composing his own pieces -Peak friend material -Short and round and soft with a love of a good espresso -Kind and quiet but ultimately ineffective and happy to watch from the sidelines Daniel 'Buddy' Lewek-he/him, aro/ace, autistic, jewish -He is curious and observant, but very very naive -He finds it hard to pick up on social cues, and tends to daydream a lot -Never really had a father figure, and unfortunately kind of half sees Joey as one (baaaad choice), but his mother is great -Loves drawing and tends to chew on pens (and most objects really) -Too young Susie Campbell-she/her, demi -Her parents were Russian and she picked up their accent, but taught herself how to cover it up. She is now excellent at voice acting. -Has a birthmark most theatres turned her away for. But luckily voice acting gave her another chance at performance, and the music department really does not care about it. -Her dad was a butcher, so she now knows a concerning amount about how to cut up and dissect meat. -She gets easily attached to things emotionally, and has a whole pile of random bits and bops she keeps on her person because she can't throw them away. -Naive, but smart enough to know how to read and deceive people if needed. Ms Abigail Lambert-she/her, lesbian -A very gifted artist, who is quite frustrated with the business aspect of animation. -Picked up quite a few things about engineering from Lacie. -Stern, but kind. Motherly, if she likes you and you squint hard enough. -Used to fighting for things. -Giving her food is a pretty good way to get her to like you. Being an artist, she forgets to eat at the correct times a lot, so a meals always appreciated. Norman Polk-he/him, gay, albino -Knows how to fix things, knows how to fight, knows how to hide -General cool uncle vibes -He watches people a lot, and gives off some creepy vibes, but he does genuinely care about people -Knows something is up and is determined to find out what (even if he dies trying) -Fought in WW1, then worked at a cinema for a bit. Emma Lamont-she/her, heteroflexible -Keep dancing even when everything goes wrong -Bit of a 'i'm better than these fools' mentality going on -But she's pretty chill, and willing to act when needed -Basically every woman in the studio knows her on the basis that she chills in the girls bathroom. -Hates Joey, but knows those who stir up a bit too much trouble usually 'resign' Sammy Lawrence-he/him, (vocal-romantic) bi/ace, ADD -His dad sucked, so he ran away. He's also the reason he's largely abandoned his faith, but he still holds hope that there is some kind of god out there. -He and Jack are basically brothers, they've known each other for a long time. -He can compose music in his head, but can play basically every instrument. -Tall and thin and sharp with a love of black coffee. -He's actually pretty chill and nice, but the conditions of the studio (workload, noises, dreams) have left him quick to snap and a stressed out mess. -He's pretty oblivious to his own feelings and spends basically all his time thinking about music, so he usually only realises that he has a crush on someone if he hears them singing (hence the vocal-romantic joke) Johnny Hart-he/him (she/her), gay (trans), heart condition -A nervous wreck who avoids everything and everyone -Trans but doesn't realise it, he thinks this level of discomfort has something to do with his heart condition or something like that. -Speaking of which, if he gets genuinely terrified or panicked he could have a heart attack. -Hence why he's a recluse who remains in the organ room and interacts w/ literally no one. -Except Dot and Buddy (who forgets he exists and who he also has a crush on). Wally Franks-he/him, pan -Friends with literally everyone who isn't one of the older folks (and thomas) -Honorary member of the music department because he can play a harmonica and vibes with everyone there. -Tries to put a positive spin on everything, often beyond the point of reason -A mischevous, mildly selfish prankster with a heart of gold -Gossip pals with Susie and Norman The Violinist-she/her, nobody knows -Has literally never expressed an emotion ever -Seems to know things are going to happen before they happen -Just generally pretty weird -She isn't friends with Dot, they're both just vaguely interested in what the others doing -She looks a lot like Allison, but the two have never spoken and nobody knows if they're sisters Thomas Connor-they/them, gynephilia -He is just. So tired. -An actual mechanical genius who gets his work used for the wrong purposes. -Is very of the 'when you're on a path stick to it' mentality -Cold and hard exterior that vertually no one except Allison has ever managed to get through. -He can and will beat you up. Henry Stein-he/him, gay, vitiligo -Nice and hardworking. -Doesn't have many emotions other than to draw. -He's in fucking narnia he's so deep in the closest. -Feels emotions, but buries them deep down and doesn't express them too clearly. -Has difficulty setting healthy boundaries with people and represses himself far too much. Joey Drew-he/him, homoromantic/pansexual, bipolar disorder, alcohol and cigarette addictions -Chaotic, feral, short little man who lies to everyone -Charismatic as hell, but also a terrible friend and person in general -He doesn't blink enough, does not know the meaning of personal space, and hasn't aged for about 4 years, which are all very bad signs. -Doesn't understand how to run a business but does so anyway. Doesn't understand how to interact with people but does so anyway. Doesn't understand how to create life but does so anyway- -He isn't pure evil, he just gets into very bad mindsets and makes poor decisions that lead him down the wrongest way to go. -Does some self evaluation and goes 'maybe this wasn't the right way chief :/' just a bit too late Audrey Dempsey-she/her, lesbian, Borderline Personality Disorder -Feral conspiracy theorist -May or may not be related to multiple studio members -Everyone's called her crazy for years and made her feel like a burden, and she is hellbent on proving everyone wrong -Quite socially awkward, and rather sarcastic with a dark sense of humour -Works for Archgate Allison Pendle-she/her & they/them, androphilic/ace -Is forever lost in a vintage clothing store -Most people say she seems nice, but everyone just kind of subconciously registers that there is something up with her -Knows a lot about the supernatural -The person closest to Joey, which doesn't necessarily mean they're friends -Nobody has ever seen the right side of her face Dot Acciaci-she/her, pan -Her parents are Italian, and she speaks a little herself, usually using it to encrypt her private notes -Mischevious & curious, but ultimately kind -She will find out your secrets, and is very good at reading people -Great storyteller -Struggles with loneliness a lot Dr Eleanor Hackenbush-she/her, aro/ace -Science knows no bounds -Doesn't care what your motivation is, as long as you give her some cash and some experiments -Filled with nothing but utter spite Ms Reina Rodriguez-they/them, demi -Tired of everything -Although she puts up a calm exterior, Rodriguez is very attached to the studio and views it as her 'new family', having a terrible relationship with her old one -Her family drama connects to the fact they're very catholic, but she nobody knows what this drama is other than Joey Tessa Arch-she/her, straight -An absolute bitch -Trusts her husband far too much -Not very smart, but compensates for this for being good looking and rich Shawn Flynn-he/him (intersex), pan -Jovial, but gets angry quickly -Willing to do 'wrong' things if it helps someone else out, kind of like Robin Hood or something -His mother taught him how to sew and he helped her make clothes when he was younger -Found it hard to get a job because he's Irish, so despite being tired of all the bullshit of JDS, he is reluctant to look elsewhere -Friends with Lacie and Grant because they appreciate his humour Lacie Benton-She/her, lesbian, trans -Tougher than the toughies -wlw & mlm solidarity w/ Bertrum, who she views as one of the only genuinely smart people in JDS and who she has worked for for basically all of her life -Feels like something is up, but doesn't notice much if it doesn't connect to her work -Has automatophobia -Friend with Shawn and Grant because she respects their dedication to their work Grant Cohen-He/him, bi, depression, jewish -Absolute madlad at maths -Acts like he doesn't care what you think, cares far too much about what you think -Everyone wants him to just get therapy already -Doesn't have many friends, but has a weird 'we're both horribly overworked' kinship with Sammy, so they usually just chill and smoke together -Friends with Shawn and Lacie because they're actually mentally stable and he needs some rocks Nathan Arch-He/him, straight -You should hate him -You should hate him a lot -Super rich and doesn't pay his workers enough -Silver tongued -Basically a spider. Creates webs of manipulation and lies, sees a lot, and knows plenty about waiting for his prey to come to him.

[the-wild-queen]

Albums

Chapter I- Pretty Bitchin’

This series is set in the twenty-first century

This series pairs myself with Marko. My name is Kaylah.

Word count: 2,290

They had arrived. Just some months after she arrived in Santa Carla to live with her great uncle. Lucy had always seemed like an aunt to her, and maybe now, they all would grow closer.

“Aunt Lucy! Michael! Sam!”

“Kaylah! So good to see you! My goodness, you are growing into quite a gorgeous young woman!”

“I’ll say. I never thought I would see you dressed like this.”

“All it is is fancy, Michael.”

“Too fancy.”

“No such thing.”

“That accent of yours has gotten thick.”

“You think, Sam? I am from Indiana. By the way, my room has already been established. It’s the one with the biggest closet.”

“Why the biggest closet?”

“You oughta see my clothes collection. But you will. All in good time.”

The boys made their way into their grandpa’s house, fighting over who gets the bigger bedroom, but both being curious about the town.

“Hey Grandpa. Is it true that Santa Carla is the murder capitol of the world?”

“Michael, when you’re done packing, there is something outside I wanna show you?”

“What could you possibly have outside that I would want to see?”

“Well, don’t strain yourself thinking about it.”

“Down dog, down!”

“Sam! Àed doesn’t understand English.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an Irish wolfhound, so I trained him in Irish Gaelic. I’ll teach you the commands, don’t worry.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“So what is that you wanted to show me, Kaylah?”

“Follow me, Michael.”

She lead him outside to a tarp hidden object.

“What is that?”

“Take off the tarp and see.”

He pulled of the tarp to reveal an Indian Black Hawk 500 motorcycle.

“Who’s is this?”

“Mine. Can you believe it?”

“No, I can’t. How long have you had it?”

“About a year. Dad got this for me before he passed.”

“I’m still sorry for that.”

“You didn’t kill him, so don’t be.”

“What is there to do around here?”

“Just the boardwalk and the amusement park, I swear. It’s boring as hell. But, then again it ain’t.”

“What’s the boardwalk like?”

“I don’t know. I don’t go there by myself.”

“Why?”

“The missings. I’m always afraid that I’ll be next. I mean, I’ve been during the day, but not at night. But, we can tour the boardwalk tonight if you want.”

“Yeah, you might feel safer with me there.”

“Sam will be scared though.”

“I will not be scared!”

“Yes you will. You were scared to go the zoo once, remember?”

"Why would I be scared to go the zoo?!"

"I don't know. Why were you? I think you were just scared of some of the bigger animals. I wanted to jump into the lion pen just to freak you out."

"That would've killed me."

"What kinda bike you got, Michael?"

"A Honda."

“Thank God. No Harley Davidson. Indian was the first motorcycle company in America. Plus, I got a discount on this bike for being related to its namesake, Chief Black Hawk."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. So if you wanna go to boardwalk this evening, Sam, you are NOT riding on my bike."

"Okay, why?"

"People might think that we're a couple. We both are the same age."

"Point taken. Is there anything interesting at boardwalk?"

"No."

"Kaylah, what is that on your arm?"

"A tattoo."

"When did you get a tattoo?!"

"You mean, when did I get tattoos? My arms and my back are covered. And those are the only places on me where I will get tattoos."

“I see you have one of your Dad.”

“Of course I do. It’s a Dad and daughter fishing. Just like we used to be. That’s how come I’m so tan. That and baseball.”

“Did you dye your hair?”

“Yeah. Platinum blonde. But it’s the way Miranda Lambert has hers. It actually looks like a blonde instead of a bleach colour. I just wanna stay blonde.”

“So, tattoos, dyed hair, more ear piercings. You’ve become a rebel.”

“I’ve always been a renegade.”

“Kaylah! You have more dogs?!”

“Yeah. Only two of my dogs were trained in English.”

“Only two?”

“Yeah. My Beagle named Snoopy, and my Blue Heeler Border Collie mix named Dolly.”

“Why did you name your Beagle Snoopy?”

“Because Snoopy was a Beagle. If you google search the world’s most famous Beagle, Snoopy is what comes up.”

“What are these other breeds?”

“I have a female Scottish Deerhound named Seònaid, a male Welsh hound named Dewydd, a female English Otterhound named Adelaide, a Cretan Hound named Achilles, a Greek Harehound named Briseis, and two Tibetan Mastiffs, male and female, named Tsuganvsdahli and Siqua Agisi . Seònaid was trained in Scottish Gaelic, Dewydd was trained in Welsh, Adelaide in old English which is pretty much German,n Achilles and Briseis were trained in Ancient Greek, and Tsuganvsdahli and Siqua Agisi were trained in Cherokee.”

“You’ll teach us all of those commands, right?”

“Duh. Oh yeah, boys. I have a baseball game Friday morning. You better be there I will tie you both to my bike and drag you to the game if I have to, and I know that you don’t want that to happen, right?”

“Right.”

“Oh, and I am taking my guitar tonight.”

“When did you start playing the guitar?”

“When I was ten.”

“Are you any good?”

“Duh.”

Night time fell upon Santa Carla, and the trio headed for boardwalk.

“Are you any good on that bike, Kaylah?”

“How about we race and see?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They both revved up their engines, and Sam was holding onto Michael for dear life. Kaylah was fast and careful on the bike at the same time.

“Kaylah, are you crazy?!”

“The answer to your question should be obvious, Sam!”

“I don’t think I can beat her.”

“You can’t, Michael. I have never lost a bike race, a poker game, a baseball game, or any other sport that I’m in. How about some music?”

She started blaring Underground by David Bowie, and turned it all the way up.

“David Bowie? Seriously?”

“Daddy, daddy, get me out of here. Heard about a place today. Ha, ha, I'm underground!”

“You and David Bowie. I will never understand it.”

“You’re not meant to, Michael.”

Kaylah had beat Michael to the beach. They arrived at the Santa Carla Boardwalk, where at the bandstand, Tim Capello was doing a saxophone solo.

“So, this is it? This is what Santa Carla has to offer?”

“This is it, believe it or not. So what do you wanna do first?”

Michael’s eyes caught notice of a pretty brunette. He decided to seek her out.

“Where is he going?”

“Well, Sam, it looks like Michael is going to find a pretty face in Santa Carla, like that’s easy to do. Oh, yeah. Look over there. I see a store that pretty much has your name written all over it.”

“A comic book shop! What are you gonna do?”

“I’m just gonna sit here and play my guitar.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I’m bored. And I need novel inspiration. I can’t just sit in front of my computer and expect the words to come to me that way. I need to get out in the open.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re writing a novel. What’s it about again?”

“A female Mafia boss. I think it’s nearing completion, but don’t quote me on that.”

Sam headed for the comic book shop, and off in the distance, Kaylah could see Michael talking to the pretty brunette he saw.

“Are you following me?”

“Well, I-.”

“Did you want to talk to me?”

“Well, yeah. Sure.”

“Okay. Talk.”

“I just wanted to, I, uh. What’s your name?”

“Star.”

“Star is great. I like Star.”

“What’s your name?”

“Michael.”

“Michael’s great. I like Michael.”

Back in the comic book shop, Sam was having fun with the sons of the owners, the Frog Brothers.

“You can't put the Superman D.C. #3400 series with the #500's. It's an entirely different artist.”

“He’s right.”

“And these Archies should be over here with the Richie Rich’s.”

“Where the hell are you from? Kryton?”

“No. Phoenix actually. And these Bullwinkle comics should be-.”

“Are you just passing through Santa Carla?”

“No. I live here now as of today. You’ll be seeing a lot of me in here. I’ve been collecting comic books my whole life. Maybe you’d like to see my collection?”

“If you're gonna live around here, then here's one you don't wanna be without.”

“I don’t like horror comics.”

“This one could save your life.”

The Frog Brothers just give Sam the comic, free of charge.

Sam went back outside to find Michael and Kaylah. He finds Michael first.

“Mom’s here, Michael.”

“Why do we have to leave early?”

“It was nice talking to you, Michael.”

“Bring your own wheels tomorrow night, Michael, and you can stay as long as you want. Say till about 11:30?”

“Fine. We need to find Kaylah.”

“Last I seen her, she sat down on a bench to ply her guitar. It was somewhere near the comic shop.”

“Let’s find her. I don’t want her out here by herself.”

They found Kaylah on a bench just outside of the comic shop, plucking away at her guitar.

“I got a pretty new truck. Had some pretty good luck. And some pretty red wine I'm sippin'. Got a pretty guitar. With a white pickguard. And a pretty good song if you're listenin'. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'.”

“Kaylah, there you are.”

“No, Aunt Lucy, I am not getting paid for this. I’m just singing for the sake of singing.”

“I say we let her finish this song, Mom.”

“Okay.”

“Remember, Aunt Lucy. Mike and I rode our bikes here.”

“Sam, do you want to go ahead and leave?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“Okay, then. We’ll see you both back at the house.”

“We’ll be there. Don’t worry, Mom.”

“Got a pretty Airstream rollin' down the road. You oughta see the pretty white walls spinnin'. Pretty pink carpet on the floor. No lock on the door. Help yourself to the Tito's in the pretty kitchen. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'.”

“How long is this song?”

“Let me finish it, and you’ll see. I use what I got. I don't let it go to waste. I'm pretty from the back. Kinda pretty in the face. I hate to admit it. But it didn't stop me, did it? Yeah, life's pretty weird, life's pretty great. Life's pretty good if you live it. One, two, three Mississippi. Sitting pretty damn pretty. On this pretty life I've been given. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'.”

Michael could see a group of four boys walking towards them, with Star holding the arm of the platinum blonde one.

“We could hear you plucking your guitar over the saxophone guy.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Kaylah liked to get smart with strangers. It showed them who was boss.

“No, not really. You’re good.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s your name?”

“Kaylah, and this is my cousin Michael.”

“Are you gonna finish the song?”

“Don’t rush me, Michael. Well, I'm a pretty hot mess. But hell, I guess, I'm pretty sure it's a family tradition. I got a pretty good time in the checkout line with all the free press I've been gettin'. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'.”

“How much longer, Kaylah?”

“Hush it, Michael. Or you’ll wake up with somethin’ missin’.”

“Like what?”

“Like, do I really need to go into detail? Cause I use what I got. I don't let it go to waste. I'm pretty from the back. Kinda pretty in the face. I hate to admit it. But it didn't stop me, did it? Yeah, life's pretty weird, life's pretty great. Life's pretty good if you live it. One, two, three Mississippi. Sitting pretty damn pretty. On this pretty life I've been given. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'.”

By the looks of them, Michael could tell they were a biker gang. It bothered him that they were impressed with Kaylah’s singing.

“One more verse, Michael. I promise. I've had pretty good day. I'm in a pretty good place. I'd say pretty much I'm winnin'. I gotta pretty good band. Pretty damn good fans. And this pretty good life I'm livin'. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'. It's pretty bitchin'.”

The crowd around her clapped, including the biker gang.

The curly haired blonde of the gang decided it was his turn to talk to Kaylah.

“I’m Marko.”

“I didn’t ask for your name anyways, but howdy.”

“What was that song you were singing?”

“Pretty Bitchin’ by Miranda Lambert.”

“I like your accent. That is definitely not a California accent.”

“I should hope not. I’m a Hoosier.”

“All the way from Indiana?”

“Yup. Come on, Michael. Let’s go find our bikes. I have a photoshoot tomorrow. I don’t get to look this good without someone noticing.”

The biker gang turned to leave, but Marko just stood there watching Kaylah leave the boardwalk and start her motorcycle.

“Hey, Paul. Do you see the model that she’s driving?”

“Yeah. That looks like, an, Indian Black Hawk 500.”

“She’s got good taste in bikes.”

Back on the road, Kaylah and Michael were having another race, with Kaylah blaring music again.

“There's not enough rain in Oklahoma. To wash the sins out of that house. There's not enough wind in Oklahoma. To rip the nails out of the past. Shatter every window till it's all blown away. Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away. Till there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday. Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away. Blown away. Blown away. Blown away. Blown away. Blown away!”

“You and those high notes.”

“Hush it, Michael.”

Marko could not wait to see more of Kaylah.

[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 9 | The Jumpsuit, Falling & (more) Ripped Trousers | 6.1k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Masterlist

a/n: I hope y’all are doing what you need to during this crazy time. All the love to you all !!! 💕also...a little bit of niall in this part... go stream HBW !!! 

The loud knock on the door causes Harry and Aurora to jump and scramble to sit up on the couch. 

“Heard there’s a curly headed boy in here!” 

A once blonde, now brunette head pops into the doorway. If the irish accent wasn’t enough to give away who it was, his face surely does. Aurora messes with her hair and Harry wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, trying their best to compose themselves. They had made their way back to Harry’s dressing room from the empty arena before Harry was to be pulled away for training, soundcheck and all the usual pre show prep. One thing led to another and the episode of Friends Aurora had pressed play on was long forgotten. 

“Niall!” Harry exclaims, jumping off the couch. He hugs his old friend as Aurora is frozen on the couch. Harry hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of Niall coming to the show tonight. It didn’t even cross Aurora’s mind that in Dublin (duh), that Niall might be in attendance. A deer in headlights describes Aurora best at this moment. “Haven’t seen ‘ur hair this messy in ages! Who do you have here with you?” Niall jokes, his laugh filling the space. When Harry steps out of the doorway to invite Niall in, he fixes his hair and Niall’s laughter stops. Niall lets out a surprised “Oh,” with a small laugh. 

“Uh, Niall, this is Ror- uh, Aurora,” he corrects himself, a dopey smile forming on his face.

“Lovely to meet you, Aurora,” Niall offers a hand out to her. 

“Wasn’t how I was intending to introduce the 2 of you, but here we are,” Harry adds. 

“Uh, great to meet you as well, Niall,” Aurora says as she stands up. She shakes his hand. “Harry, you could’ve said he was coming,” Aurora comments directly to Harry. 

“It wasn’t for sure yet and I kind of wanted it to be a surprise,” Harry tells Aurora. 

“A surprise?” Niall questions. “For Aurora?” He continues to question as he gestures to Aurora, a small look of confusion on his face. 

“Ugg,” Aurora groans, to no one in particular, “Harry, please don’t.” 

“Hey, if you’re going to rub in my face that you were once a ‘Niall girl’,” he uses air quotes to pester her more, “then I’m going to have some fun with it.” Niall’s laugh echoes off the walls of the dressing room. 

“I’m gonna need more of a story behind this,” Niall says through bouts of laughter. 

Aurora groans again, rolling her eyes at Harry before turning back to Niall. “Wish we could've had this conversation over some drinks, but here we are.” 

“We could get drinks right now, I know where the bar is,” Niall adds. 

“I’m technically working… so drinking is a no,” 

“But making out on the couch is fine?” Harry asks through a chuckle, Niall’s laugh joins in. 

“Oh god, the 2 of you together is really gonna be like this huh?” 

“Like what?” Harry asks. 

“You 2 picking on me and just overall, chaotic.” The 2 former bandmates shrug their shoulders when they make eye contact. 

“Anyways,” Niall circles back to the original request, “I need the story. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did Harry say ‘Niall girl’?” 

“He sure did. I made the mistake to share that I once had One Direction posters on my wall growing up. Definitely pumped Harry’s ego a bit and I had to bring it down by informing him that I was a quote unquote a Niall Girl back then.” Aurora sighs and then laughs at the face Niall is making at Harry. “Ni, you don’t have a chance anymore, so stop even entertaining the thought in your head,” Harry says as he tosses an arm around Aurora’s shoulders. 

“How much does it kill you that she had posters of me in her room?” Niall asks Harry. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Harry states with a straight face. 

“Can we not talk about any of this anymore?” Aurora questions, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment still. Both Harry and Niall’s laughter fill the room once again and Aurora can’t help but smile at the 2 old friends. 

Harry ushers them both to the empty couch and chairs to sit back down. Niall opts for the chair after grabbing a sparkling water from the fridge under the vanity counter. Niall seems carefree and comfortable. Harry doesn’t talk much about being in the band or the other guys much. It’s not that he avoids it at all costs. If it comes up he’ll talk but he doesn’t volunteer the conversation himself. Aurora does know that he keeps in touch with Niall the most. She had caught him giggling at something on his phone recently and when she asked what it was all he said was that Niall sent him a joke. 

“I’ve seen the suits you’ve got our boy Harold in, they’re incredible, really,” Niall comments to Aurora. 

“Oh, yeah, I only helped pick some of them out, thanks though,” Aurora says shyly. 

“Don’t do that,” Harry interrupts. “You’ve done more than that.” Aurora only blushes slightly and shakes her head. 

“Getting him in clothes is the hardest part, honestly,” Niall comments. 

“Why does everyone say that?” Aurora questions. “Gemma made the same comment and Lambert alluded to it as well.” 

“Harry over here was barely dressed half the time and would put up a fight when he was told to put pants or a shirt on for anything. Quite a show off back in the day,” Niall shares. 

Aurora laughs, “Well, I haven’t had much trouble.” 

“Think there’s something more in it for him when he listens,” Niall says. 

Harry rolls his eyes at Niall. An alarm rings from Harry’s phone. 

“I’ve gotta head to sound check, wanna come with, Ni?” Harry asks as he stands up. Niall agrees to join and the 2 boys stand up to leave.

“Have a good sound check,” Aurora says before pressing a kiss to his lips quickly. “Niall, seriously it was great meeting you. I’m assuming you’re staying for the show?” He nods, “Great, I’ll see you later then.” 

“Great to meet you too. See you later, Aurora,” Niall says, his blue eyes bright and his irish accent strong. 

| | | | |

Harry’s dressing room becomes a common room tonight and by the time Harry has to get ready, his whole band is in here. Niall’s tagged along with Harry since he got here earlier and Aurora has enjoyed the commotion for once. Niall is sharing a story about one of the many shows they had done together when Aurora finishes prepping Harry’s jumpsuit for the show. She joins Sarah on the couch while waiting for Harry to be done with Ayae. 

“He falls flat on his arse,” Niall continues telling the story. “In front of a sold out arena. No idea what he even tripped on or anything, to this day.” 

“Hey!” Harry interrupts. “There was a loose flap on the stage!” He defends. 

“Buddy, I really don’t think there was, but keep telling people that if it makes you feel better.” Harry rolls his eyes at Niall. 

“Ror, I’m ready!” Harry says as he walks towards the wardrobe cases. Aurora gets off the couch to help get him into the jumpsuit. 

“Hey, Mully just messaged saying he was here,” Niall says to Harry. “I’m gonna go find him.” Harry and Niall hug for a moment, a few pats on the back, Niall wishing him good luck. Aurora smiles at the two. No love was lost between them. Though Aurora doesn’t know everything about what that time was like, she's grateful that behind all the rumors and drama Harry and Niall still get along like they did when they first met on the X Factor. She’s most grateful for the fact that Harry has someone who understands it all. Someone who can relate to him and someone to share those memories with. She’s supportive and understands what she can but she wasn’t there. 

Harry’s band, Ayae and Helene follow Niall out the door leaving Aurora and Harry alone, just as it happens every night. 

“Okay, here ya go,” Aurora says as she hands off the jump suit to Harry. He steps into the jumpsuit and pulls the sleeves up on his shoulders. He lets out a grunt when he goes to button it close. “What?” Aurora asks with a look of worry on her face. 

“Uhm, fits a bit tighter than it did last,” Harry says slowly. 

“Oh no…. Can you close it?” 

“I mean, yeah, I think it’ll be fine, just not as roomy as it was for the Late Late Show.” Harry fastens the buttons up the front and adjusts the fabric in a few spots before he looks up to Aurora. 

“Turn around for me,” she directs to inspect that it’s still okay to perform in. As he turns around Aurora’s jaw drops, “Oh.” The jumpsuit certainly fits tighter than it did last. “Uh, is it comfortable?” She stutters out. 

“Uh yeah,” Harry moves around a bit. “Does it look okay?” 

“Honest?” 

“Well, yeah,” Harry says, slightly confused.

“So uh, it definitely fits tighter… but it looks really good.” It’s all that Aurora can say. Her brain actually cannot form anymore full sentences. It’s not that the jump suit looked bad when he wore it for the Kiwi performance on the Late Late Show almost a year ago, it’s just that it looks better than it did. Harry turns to Aurora to try to figure out what she’s thinking. 

“What?” Harry asks when Aurora’s face is unreadable. He chuckles a little when her cheeks turn a light shade of pink under his gaze. 

“Well your ass looks great.”

“Rory!” Harry yells, almost startled by the comment coming from her. 

“What?! It’s the truth!” She says with a short laugh. “Let’s just say all those training sessions are doing their job.” Harry shakes his head, a small huff coming out of his mouth before a dimple inducing smile covers his face. He’s drawn towards Aurora and the look in her eyes. He can’t put his finger on it. When he gets his hands around her waist, instinctively he pulls her as close as she can get to him. Her hands grab on his shoulders and then slide down to his biceps. She lets out a small giggle as Harry presses his face into her neck, his lips landing on the soft skin below her ear. Aurora moves her hands to his chest to push him away from her to get him to stop tickling her neck with the soft touch of his lips. Pressing up to her toes, she kisses him square on the lips quickly before she pulls away from his hold. “Just don’t stop training.”

She pretends like nothing has happened and goes to grab Harry’s socks and shoes. She openly watches him as he puts them on. She follows him into the large, echoey bathroom as she always does. Hopping onto the counter she watches as he goes through his routine. 

“So what’d you think of Niall?” Harry asks curiously, his face reads a hint of caution but also approval. Being the one member he has stayed in contact with the most, he’s hoping she likes him as much as he does. He’s also nervous. He’d be lying if he said the image of Aurora’s childhood bedroom with Niall’s face plastered on the walls wasn’t haunting his mind. 

Aurora can see his brain churning as he asks the question and she smiles a little at the almost nervous look that is now on his face. “Crazy to meet him if I’m honest,” she shrugs. She sees Harry take a deep breath, his shoulders rising but not falling when he breathes out a shallow breath. “I’m glad you’ve kept in contact with him.” Aurora’s trying to direct the conversation to be about Niall and Harry not Niall and Aurora. She can tell he’s thinking too much. “Harry?” He hums at her as he finishes brushing his teeth. “You know, even though I had posters of Niall on my walls, I did take them down a long time ago. My mom found them in the back of my closet and they were there for a reason.” She sighs. He thinks too much and there’s reasons he thinks too much. She just doesn’t know why yet, but that conversation is for another day. “Babe,” at the pet name, Harry looks at her, “Niall wasn’t the one who took care of me when I burned my arm with a steamer. He doesn’t bring me coffee exactly how I like it or flirt with me by getting me new sneakers,” she laughs lightly. “He doesn’t make me laugh on a daily basis or know exactly when I could use a hug.” Now Aurora has hopped off the counter and is standing next to Harry, looking at him in the mirror. “He’s not you. He never will be no matter what. I may have had posters of him on my walls 4 years ago but that doesn’t matter anymore.” Aurora turns to face Harry and he follows her movement so they’re face to face now. She tucks a rogue curl back into place before continuing. “You’re all that matters, okay? I’m here, with you, yeah? Please stop thinking so much,” she pleads. Harry nods minutely. A small smile appears on his face, the cliche twinkle is back in his eye and he uses one hand to pull Aurora’s face to his, kissing her softly. 

“You know I get in my head a lot,” Harry says quietly when they pull apart from each other. Aurora offers a small smile and sighs at him. 

“I know, but you need to talk to me about it. Tell me when something isn’t sitting right, tell me anything. I can read you pretty well but I can only do so much.” 

“Promise I’ll work on it as long as you promise me you’re a Harry girl now,” he mocks. Aurora groans as she pulls away from his hold.

“You know, you’re really good at ruining the moment?” She jokes as she walks back to the main part of the dressing room. 

“You can’t deny you don’t adore it!” Harry yells back. She laughs and it echoes through both rooms and it makes Harry smile. 

Aurora turns around when she hears him walk back through the door. There’s still a ghost of a smile on his face when he looks at her. She huffs, unable to form a thought when she goes to give the last look on his jumpsuit.

“What?” Harry questions, a sparkle in his eye. 

“Nothing,” she brushes her thoughts away. Harry raises an eyebrow at her in question. “You look really good,” she admits with a shrug before turning away from him. She starts to pick up a few things to put away but Harry is quick to grab her waist and turn her around. She only sees the smile that’s covered his face for a moment before his lips are on hers. 

| | | | |

Everyone has been spending the extra days off at the hotel’s private pool. They nap and read and just enjoy the time off. Harry and Aurora are sitting on a cushion covered wooden sectional that sits in the corner of the pool area covered by large yellow and white umbrellas. Regardless of the heat, Aurora snuggled into Harry’s side, his feet crossed at the ankle, propped up on the bench in front of them and his arm around her shoulders. He has one of his woven fedoras on and sunglasses covering his eyes. Aurora traces over the butterfly tattoo on his stomach, idly as he hums and rests his head on top of hers. 

“This is nice,” he repeats for the hundredth time this afternoon. Aurora giggles in response. Harry turns his head and places a soft kiss to her hair. Harry starts humming again. 

“Is that a new one?” Aurora asks. 

“Ahhh not yet, just a little melody that’s been stuck in my head.” 

“Are you writing for the next album?” She asks as she reaches for his cross necklace. Aurora fiddles with it between her thumb and pointer finger. 

“Not purposefully. I’ll write whatever comes to me or record a voice note or something so I can use it later if I want. But not really thinking about the next album yet. I want to enjoy the tour and the first album more before I get into the next ” he shares, looking down at her. 

“That makes sense. It seemed like it was always a quick turnaround for the band. Must be nice to enjoy it all and not have to think about the next thing when you’ve just started the first thing. ” She drops the necklace and her hand slides up the side of his neck and stops at his jawline. Aurora’s fingers trace lightly over the harshness of it.

“Yeah it’s been nice, more enjoyable” he smiles down at her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable-” 

“Don’t have to explain yourself, I understand what you’re saying.” Aurora’s fingers don’t leave his jawline, only grip it harder to bring his face down to hers. His breath fans out across her face before his lips land on hers. She smiles when he pulls away for a brief moment. He mirrors her smile before going in to kiss her again. Between their smiles and the small giggles coming from both of them, they barely can connect their lips. 

It’s when they’re laying in the same spot later, cold margaritas on the table nearby, the sun setting off in the distance when Aurora gets a glimpse of Harry that makes her heart swell. His face is soft as he enjoys the view. A tint of red covers the top of his cheeks and nose, the sun having made a mark. Everything feels so normal, so mundane. Three full days spent in the Australian sun has only made Aurora’s heart grow fonder of the curly headed boy that she’s tucked into. With nothing to do but enjoy each other’s company, laugh with their friends and soak up the sun, she’s had a lot of time to think about everything. She’s thought about how thankful she is that this is her life, that while working, this is the break she gets to take, that her job is to dress the man she’s falling in love with. She’s thought about that last part a lot. She’s not sure she’s falling in love with him so much as already fallen in love with him. She’s there. She fell and she fell hard and she’s there. She’s fallen so hard that a small glimpse of him in the light of the sunset is enough to make her want to give her whole self to him. 

Aurora thinks about it the whole way back to the hotel room. Harry even asks why she’s so quiet. When she responds with “just thinking” he doesn’t stop the questioning there. 

“Ror,” he whispers. 

“What? You’re the only one who can think too much?” Aurora jokes as they walk into the elevator.

Harry sighs as a small smile ghosts his face, “what’re you thinking about, love?” 

“Uhm, can I tell you once I’ve figured it out?” 

Harry angles his body towards her so he can see her face completely. He pulls her closer to him with the hand that is at her waist. He kisses the top of her cheek then her temple. “Sure,” he says quietly, “just don’t go making up stories in that pretty little head of yours, okay?” Aurora nods. 

Once they get back to the hotel room both of them take their turns to shower and get ready for bed. Aurora’s sitting on the bed, Harry’s rolling stone tshirt on and scrolling through her phone when Harry walks out of the bathroom. 

“Did you call your mum?” he asks. Aurora mentioned that she wanted to when he hopped into the shower. 

“Mom was asleep, but I called Leila,” Aurora explains. 

“How is your sister?” He asks as he wrings out his hair with the towel one last time, tossing it back in the bathroom. 

“Good…” she answers broadly, not totally focused on the conversation. 

“Ror, you’re still thinking hard about something.” 

“Yeah, no, I know. Promise I’m fine. Leila helped a bit.” Harry gives her a questioning look as he sits down on the bed with her. “I’m still trying to work it out in my head, okay?” He nods slowly at her. “We’re fine. I promise we are. Nothing to worry about,” she explains as she reaches for him. She’s endeared by the caring look in his eyes. He looks rested and calm and his skin has tanned a bit.

She pulls him into her rather than finding her spot tucked into his side. His hair is still damp and she knows if she touches it too much it’ll go all frizzy. So instead, she smoothes it down so it doesn’t tickle her neck too much. He willingly wraps his arms around her torso, his legs automatically finding her bare ones underneath the sheets and weaving with them. Subconsciously she starts to trace the ink that litters his arm. 

“Ready for the show tomorrow?” Aurora asks after some silence. 

“Yeah,” he answers slowly. 

“Is it hard to go back to touringn after a small break?” She asks, curious. She always hated going back to school or work after long weekends or short trips. His job is different but it’s work, all the same. 

“Uhm, it normally is a bit hard yeah, but feels a bit different now, this time.” 

“What’d you mean by that?” 

“It’s all a bit different now, used to be such a routine, go home for a few days or family and friends would come to me when I had a few days. It was always so hard when they left and I had to get back to work. Not that-”

“Not that you didn’t enjoy it,” Aurora finishes for him. 

“I say that a lot, huh?” 

“Don’t need to explain it to me, remember? I understand.” Harry sighs at Aurora’s words and lets his hand that's sitting on her hip find the hem of his t-shirt she’s wearing and slid underneath. He gives the skin at her hip a light squeeze before he lets the heat from his hand radiate on the skin there and rub circles into her flesh haphazardly. 

“Right, well it was hard then cause I’d have to say goodbye and it was always for an unknown amount of time. I should’ve been going back to work well rested but I would stay up for hours in the night dreading having to leave or them leaving me.” Harry stops his movements and wraps his arms around Aurora tighter, his face burying itself in Aurora’s neck and breathing in the smell of her shampoo. He pulls his head away only for a moment to share the rest of his explanation. “But it’s different now because it’s my tour and it isn’t how it used to be and I’ve got you with me. And as long as you’re not planning on going anywhere I don't’ have to dread going back to work cause you’ll be there too.” 

| | | | |

Aurora decides to watch from the mix tonight in Melbourne and by the time Harry makes his way to the Bstage she doesn’t regret the choice at all. Harry can spot her any night, but tonight is different. He catches a glimpse of her as he walks up the metal stairs, Mitch following not far behind. She still has on the black and white floral jacket. The one he wore years ago. The one he gave her, while sitting on the very stage he’s walking up. Only the stage was in an arena in a different continent. His smile mocked the glimmer of the gold foil on his suit and shined right up until the moment he focused on the next song. 

“One, two, three, four,” he almost whispers into the mic. Mitch starts to play the guitar and Aurora’s heart swells when Harry starts singing ‘Sweet Creature.’ 

If anyone would ask Aurora what her favourite song of Harry’s is she’d probably end up listing the whole album. Right now though, her favourite is ‘Sweet Creature.’ If it were actually possible, his vocals would melt her heart into nothing. There’s something about it stripped down like this, it’s the most similar to how he sings when he’s on his own, when he’s with Aurora. It's the most similar to how he sounds when he’s in the shower or when he’s getting ready in the mornings. He’ll sing his current and old favourites and sometimes mess around with the melody of some of his own. 

“You will bring me home,” he belts. “Sweet creature, sweet creature, when I run out of road,” he sings with his eyes closed, full heart and soul poured into each note. He lets the audience sing the next line. As Mitch’s guitar fills the speakers on its own and the audience screams louder, Aurora can tell Harry is trying to avoid turning in her direction but he can’t fight it. He turns his head to where she’s standing. She watches as his jaw softens. His eyes search the small section he knows Aurora’s standing in. When he finds her, a smile appears on his face. A dimple and the crinkles at his eyes follow the turn of his lips. His eyes twinkle. Maybe from the lights. Maybe it’s the result of the emotion of the song. Maybe it’s because he’s just seen the girl he’s in love with, singing along to his own song, in his old jacket with a look on her face that could be described as nothing short of absolute adoration. 

He doesn’t linger long. He knows that he can’t stare at her from the stage forever and his cue is coming soon for the last line of the song. 

“You will bring me home,” his voice sounds through the speakers, deep and clear. It rattles Aurora’s chest a bit. 

Harry thanks Mitch and grabs his own guitar, now solo on the small stage. Even though Aurora can’t pick one favourite from Harry’s album she could give you at least her top 5 favourite One Direction songs. ‘If I Could Fly’ is without a doubt in the top 5. Aurora does think Harry’s version on his own is the best version of it. Every night she’s thoroughly entertained when Harry tries to quiet the audience before he asks them to sing the chorus for him. She can’t help but take on the smile that appears on his face when the entire audience is singing, in unison, the song he poured his heart into years ago. 

As the song comes to an end and the opening of ‘Anna’ begins, Aurora’s eyes follow Harry as he walks down the stairs and back up the path that is littered with flowers and sparkles and signs and fans yelling his name. She sees the pile of flowers that sit on top of a crate at the edge of the mix near the bstage stairs and smiles. She can’t help but think how lucky she is to be standing here, wearing the Gucci jacket of dreams, getting to dress the rockstar that has just tossed his planet painted guitar over his chest and falling in love with him all at the same time. 

| | | | |

The golden Calvin Klein suit is the last Aurora can take, she thinks. He screams sunshine in this. Just like that day in Amsterdam - so many things go back to that day in Amsterdam - the bright golden colour of the suit has the same effect that the yellow t-shirt did. 

Aurora's tucked up in the corner of the couch in Harry’s dressing room. Harry is sitting in the chair in front of the vanity mirror, Ayae fixing his curls after Harry messed them up a few minutes ago. She can’t stop catching his eyes in the mirror and they both laugh quietly each time. When his hair is back in place and Harry thanks Ayae, he walks to where Aurora is on the couch. He raises an eyebrow up at her. 

“You know,” Aurora starts, “there’s this thing,” she laughs nervously. “I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s gonna sound crazy, but you’re-you’re like,” she pauses before continuing, “sunshine. My own personal sunshine.” Harry tries to hide a smile as he places his hand on top of Aurora’s that is resting on her knee. He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of Aurora’s head. 

“Don’t sound crazy to me, love. If I look like sunshine to you, then I'm your sunshine.” 

Aurora pulls her hand out from underneath Harry's and grabs his face with both of them. She locks eyes with him for a short moment before pulling him down for a kiss. 

| | | | |

Aurora and Helene are laughing while looking through the photos Helene took during the show tonight in Sydney. Some of the photos of Harry are quite entertaining to say the least. 

“This one!” Aurora yells when Helene clicks to the next photo. “You have to post this one.” Helene laughs at Aurora’s eagerness. “It’s perfect.” 

“Oh is it?” Helene pesters. 

“His hair looks incredible. The lighting is perfect,” Aurora compliments. “And- and,” she stutters out, “he looks like sunshine.” 

“You’re really in love with him, huh?” Helene asks with a newly serious tone. Aurora smiles at her before sighing. 

“I mean, yeah,” she shrugs as if it’s not that scary. As if being in love with the world's biggest pop star isn’t something to be scared of. Like it’s not this terrifying idea, cause it’s not. At least not right at this moment. 

He’s her sunshine and she’s in love. 

| | | | |

“Do not tell me that was the sound of something ripping!” Aurora yells from across the large backstage space in Brisbane. She doesn’t dare to turn around to see the chaos that is happening surrounding the ping pong tables. She takes a deep breath as silence fills the room. Silence apart from Harry's laugh, that is. 

“Oh, Rory,” Harry calls through fits of laughter. 

When Aurora turns around her jaw drops and she has to force herself to take a deep breath so she doesn’t yell. 

“15 minutes!” calls the stage manager. Aurora’s heart sinks before it starts to beat rapidly. 

“Fucking hell,” she whispers to herself. “Take them off, I gotta fix ‘em,” she tells Harry as she reaches into her bag to find a needle and black thread. 

“I’ll just put a different pair on. It’s fine,” Harry says as he walks towards Aurora. 

“It’s not fine Harry. I’d have to steam another pair of pants, which will take more time than we have and anyways, we don’t have any other options. We only packed what was needed for the Australia shows.” Aurora is frustrated. 15 minutes before the show? Really?

“Oh,” is all Harry lets out as he slips out of the ripped pants. 

“You just had to be doing trick shots right before the show, huh?” Aurora half laughs, half scolds as she sits down to stitch the rip up the inside of the leg of his pants. 

“Sorry, Ror,” he offers as he begins to watch her get to work but his name is called back at the ping pong tables and he runs back to his game. 

“Should probably put your shirt and jacket on at least!” Aurora calls after him, not looking up. “Won’t have a minute to spare once they're finished!” She doesn’t look up, too focused on the work at hand. It’s not till she hears the band and stage crew cheer not 2 minutes later that she looks up. 

Harry’s standing at one end of the ping pong table with only his boxers and tall black socks on, a look of pride covering his face. The paddle outstretched in one hand and he’s taking in the cheers as he does on stage. 

Now Aurora’s angry. Here she is doing her job, trying to fix the pants Harry has ripped almost the entire length of while Harry is off, still playing around, now 10 minutes till the show is supposed to begin. 

“Rory!” he sings. “How’s my girl doing over here?” 

“Not your girl right now,” she says shortly. She doesn’t look up to him. She just keeps focusing on weaving the thread in and out of the black fabric. She does see his feet stop in its place, just at the edge of her range of sight. Backstage begins to quiet down a bit. 

Harry’s band gathers at the stage door ready to go when they're told to do so. There’s murmurs from the stage crew as they get everything ready. Aurora takes a deep breath to try and calm the shakiness in her hands. 

“Ror, why’re you shaking?” Harry whispers. Aurora hears the click of Helene’s camera. 

“Trying to fix your pants, less than 10 minutes till the show,” she answers quickly. 

“I can go on stage late, it’s fine. Take your time, love.” 

“Harry, please, I’m not your girl right now, I'm not ‘love’, I’m trying to do my job. Just let me fix these, I’ll call you when they’re ready. Now, go put on your tank and jacket, please.” Aurora isn’t messing around and Harry’s figured that out now.

“Yeah, okay,” he says solemnly. “Pushing start time by 10 minutes!” the stage manager announces instead of giving the 5 minute warning. “Officially, 15 minutes till new start time!

Although Aurora is angry with Harry for ripping his pants in the first place and now pushing back the show to accommodate her she relaxes a bit and her hands calm down. 

A few minute pass and when she knots the final stitch she calls for Harry. Standing up from her spot she turns the pants right side out. When she finally looks away from the pants she sees Harry standing in front of her, the top half of his body much more covered than the bottom half. 

“Thank you” he whispers to Aurora as he takes his pants from her. “I’m sorry,” he says as he buttons them close. When she meets his eyes she can’t help but smile softly at him. She sighs heavily, weaving the needle that’s still in her hand on the shoulder of her shirt, just like her mom always does. 

“Out of all the suits to rip before the show it was the simple black Givency one. Really?” Aurora messes with the collar of his jacket quickly, pulling it so it sits evenly on his shoulders. “Gotta respect me when I’m working okay? I’m here to be your ‘Head of Wardrobe’ first.” Harry nods, understanding. “I know the line is blurry, but when I’m trying to fix your clothes in a timely manner and you’re acting like a spoiled rockstar, you gotta check yourself. I’ll be your girlfriend after the show and we can laugh about how you ripped the entire inside seam of your pants then. Right now, though, I’m annoyed and a little angry. You shouldn’t have been playing ping pong like that in your suit in the first place, but I am not your mother, so, yeah.” Aurora shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry offers again. 

“Thank you, but it’s fine. We’ll figure this out eventually,’ Aurora shrugs. “You’re all set. Good luck,” she says as she pushes him towards the stage door. 

“Be my girl for a minute?” Aurora’s eyebrows furrow at the question. “Just want a good luck kiss,” he explains.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Aurora says challengingly. 

“You’re not making the line any clearer,” he challenges back. 

“Shut up and let me kiss you,” Aurora states as she grabs his face in both of her hands. His hands find a grip on her waist before dipping his head down and meeting their lips lightly. He lets one hand drop, the other smoothing around her waist so he can hold her whole body with the one. He presses another kiss to her lips before he pulls away. He grabs her waist tightly once more and presses a kiss to her cheek. 

She watches as the sound manager sets up his in-ear and weaves it through the back of his jacket. Harry adjusts the cords and the piece in his ear quickly and spares a last look at Aurora who’s standing where he left her, arms now crossed against her chest, smiling back at him. He mirrors her bright smile for a quick moment before turning around and disappearing through the doors.

[freddiesaysalright]

Dancing With Ben Week 11

A Ben Hardy x Reader Fic Redemption Week - Jive 2.0

Summary: Reader is one of the pro dancers on Dancing With the Stars. It’s her second season on the show, and this time, her partner is none other than Ben Hardy. Will they win the Mirror Ball? Maybe they’ll win something even more meaningful!

Word Count: 3.5K

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @twigleektribute23, @ionlyhavepicturesofflowers, @asquiresofftime, @caborhapch, @iwasnothingbutacityboy, @a-kind-of-magik, @anxious-diabetic, @royalblueviper, @toms-irish-girl, @doingalrightt, @borhapqueen92, @angiefangirlworld-2, @ziggymay, @pink-lemo, @riddikuluslypotter, @wearewiththebands, @i-was-born-like-this, @prince-lucifer-v, @mariekuuuuuh, @teenwolflover28, @minigranger, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @theprettyfandom, @sam-mercurry-sixx, @reddies-stanlon, @irlkell, @deakyismydad, @kimmietea, @lelifesaver, @simmisblog, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @kyleetheeditor, @painkiller80, @bensrhapsody, @rrrogahtaylahhhh, @multisuperbananas This story is almost over, but if you’d like to be tagged for the last couple parts, let me know!

A/N: So! Some fun stuff in this one! I included a fun dance for rehearsal since the routine they’re doing is a repeat! I like fun new dance content y’all. Also, a lil BoRhap reunion in this one! Hope y’all enjoy!

Week 1  Week 2  Week 3  Week 4  Week 5 Week 6  Week 7  Week 8  Week 9  Week 10

Week 11 here we go!!!

“We made it to the semi-finals!” you cried excitedly, hugging Ben as you entered rehearsal together. “Can you believe it?”

“Hardly!” he returned through a laugh. “We’ve been working so hard, and it feels like it’s really paying off.”

“I know!” you said. “I’m so proud of you, I could scream!”

“Please don’t scream,” he chuckled.

“I won’t, but oh my God! This is amazing!”

You beamed at each other for a moment.

“So, what’s this week’s dance?” he wondered.

“I actually don’t know,” you told him. “This week is the week we re-do a dance we did earlier this season to show how much you’ve improved. One of the judges will meet us here and will tell us which dance they’d like to see us do again.” 

“I hope they choose the waltz,” he said.

You chuckled. “But we just did that one.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I really loved it.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “But until the mystery judge gets here, I brought some friends to keep us company during rehearsal today.”

His brow furrowed. “Who?”

“Come in, guys!” you called.

Through the door came Rami, Joe, and Gwilym. The latter two had flown in to see the semi-finals and finals of the show and support Ben. They were certain he’d make it to the finals and wanted to be in the audience this week and next. Ben gave a cry of delight and leapt into their collective arms. They all laughed as they embraced him and told him what a great job he was doing. Joe and Rami came over to say hello to you again, hugging you and pecking your cheek. Then Gwilym approached to introduce himself.

“Gwilym Lee,” he said, extending his hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You as well,” he returned. “Ben hardly shuts up about you in our group chat, so I’m excited to see you in person.”

You laughed. “That’s funny, he hardly shuts up about the three of you to me.”

Ben bear hugged Gwilym from behind and kissed his neck.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” he murmured. 

Gwil patted his arm softly and smiled. “Of course, Ben. We wouldn’t miss it.”

“What dance are you doing this week?” Joe wondered.

You explained to him what you had explained to Ben about it being a redemption week, so neither of you knew yet. 

“I hope it’s the salsa,” Rami said. “Maybe you’d get to come back, Joe.”

“I don’t know if my body could take that,” Joe laughed. “That was tough. Although, Y/N is a wonderful teacher.”

“Thank you, Joe,” you returned. “You’re an excellent student.”

You all chatted for a bit while you waited for whichever judge to come in. After about ten minutes or so, you hear the door open.

“Knock, knock,” came the voice of Len Goodman.

“Len!” you cried.

He came over and shook hands with you and Ben. He offered a little wave to the rest of the boys. Then he smiled widely at you and your partner.

“Well, I am glad to see you two,” he said kindly. “And I’m glad I’m your special coach this week. You two have done so well and are at the top of the leaderboard. Oh, and congratulations on making it to the semi-finals.”

You and Ben both thanked him.

“This week, the other judges and I want to see you dance your jive again,” he continued. “We thought your jive was great, but now that you’re a real dancer, you can make it outstanding.”

“Okay,” you said with an excited clap. “I’m ready to get started.”

“Just a moment,” Len said. “You’ve brought some friends, but I’ve also brought friends of my own.”

You and Ben exchanged a confused glance.

“Not to worry, Ben,” Len said. “You’ve met them before. Please say hello to Brian May, Roger Taylor, and Adam Lambert!”

“Shut the fuck up!” you yelled, your hands covering your mouth right after.

The three men walked through the door of the studio and your heart skipped several beats. You thought you might pass out. You actually stumbled but Ben caught you. When you were steady, he joined the other boys in greeting the band. You looked at Len, dumbfounded.

“Wh - how?” you wondered.

“They’re all in town and they offered to come and play the song for you and Ben to dance to,” he explained.

You gave Len a hug and then watched while Ben, Rami, Gwil, and Joe talked with the band. Your heart fluttered again, and you weren’t sure what to do. Your thirteen-year-old self’s head was exploding at the idea of being in the same room as Roger Taylor. 

“Y/N, get over here,” Ben said. “Say hello.”

On shaky legs, you approached. You shook each of their hands and they introduced themselves. 

“Hello,” you choked out. When had you gotten emotional?

Ben wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed. “Queen’s music means a lot to her.”

“It does?” wondered Roger. 

“Yeah,” Ben said. He looked at you and gently nudged you. “Tell them.”

“Oh, it’s...not important,” you said. 

“That’s not true,” Ben replied. “Go on, tell them.”

You cleared your throat. “Well, um, my parents met at a Queen concert, so I was raised on the music. My mother passed unexpectedly, and your music was always my way of feeling close to her.”

“What a lovely sentiment,” Brian said. 

You nodded. “I’m honestly in shock that I’m even here with you guys right now. I mean, growing up I was this oddball because my friends were all into Justin Beiber and Zac Efron, and I had Roger Taylor on my ceiling.”

They laughed at that. Then they hugged you and you thought your heart might explode because holy shit you were hugging Brian May and Roger Taylor. 

You looked at Adam. “And you’re honestly amazing!”

He hugged you as well. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Well, you’ve got a bit of an audience, I think it’s time to start rehearsal,” said Len.

The boys and the band moved to the side. You looked at Ben. 

“How much of the jive do you remember?” you asked. 

“All of it,” he said. 

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “All of it?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “You don’t believe me?”

“Not for a second, Hardy,” you said. 

“Wanna bet?” he challenged. 

“Fine,” you returned. “If I win...I get to tell Joe where you’re ticklish.”

“She knows where you’re ticklish?!” Joe cried indignantly. 

“Fine,” Ben agreed with a smirk, ignoring Joe. “If I win, you have to do the routine you did to Body Language when you were captain of your college dance team.”

The others chuckled.

You mouth fell open. “How do you know about that?!”

“Your dad showed me the video,” he returned. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Bring it, Hardy.”

He laughed. “Let’s go.”

You started the music. You felt pretty confident initially because you did the jive so long ago. Ben had to miss a step. But as you danced, you got nervous. He was doing really well. You briefly considered tripping him or something but you didn’t want to play dirty. If you were going to win it was going to be fair and square. 

You suddenly remembered when you were first teaching Ben this dance and you had missed a step. He had teased you for it at the time - and a few times since then - and his eyes teased you now, as if he were remembering it as well. You focused. 

Sadly, you lost the bet. Ben did know the entire jive routine from start to finish and performed it well. When the last notes of the song played, you huffed irritably. He laughed as he backed away toward the wall with the rest of your “audience” in rehearsal. Of course, you were doing this on a day when there were tons of guests in the room. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this in front of Roger and Brian,” you grumbled. 

“Shouldn’t have doubted me then,” he replied. 

“Okay, let the record show, I was a VERY amateur choreographer at the time and I only did half these moves because there was a boy on the football team whose attention I wanted.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” you snapped. “And I gotta say - worked like a charm.”

He frowned and you headed to the other end of the studio with a little smirk of your own. You started the music, this time with Body Language and began.

The routine was only a minute or so, and was sexy in an almost silly way. It was a lot of pelvic thrusts and hair flips instead of real choreography, but at the time, it was a big moment for you because it was your first routine you had ever choreographed on your own. You were not nearly as proud of it now. 

As you danced, though, you couldn’t help but smile, despite the slight embarrassment you felt at performing this in front of members of Queen. It was funny because Ben’s idea was backfiring a bit. He swallowed as he watched you, and heat rose to his cheeks. You lost the bet, but you couldn’t help feeling just a bit victorious. 

When you finished, everyone clapped as you took a sarcastic bow. Laughing, you made your way over to them.

“Well, that would certainly have my attention when I was that age,” Roger joked. 

“Like I said, it worked,” you replied. 

“The guy went out with you?” Gwilym asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah. But then he ghosted me shortly after. Not to worry, though, I got him back.”

“How?” asked Joe eagerly.

“Oh, no,” you said. “I’m not telling that story with cameras on me.”

Joe and Ben both opened their mouths to ask more, but Len interrupted.  

“Enough messing about,” he said. “We’ve got a dance to perfect.”

You nodded in agreement, and he started giving feedback on the dance again. He offered suggestions about how you could add to the routine here and there to make it more advanced now that Ben was a better dancer. When you incorporated them, you could tell it made the routine a lot stronger. It really showed what Ben had learned. 

Also, you added a gap where you and Ben would rest while Brian played the guitar solo. Brian insisted that wasn’t necessary, but you cut him off. 

“Sorry, Brian, but it’s too iconic,” you joked. “Legally, we have to let you play it.”

He chuckled and didn’t argue anymore. After a while, Brian, Roger, and Adam left to do their own rehearsal, but not before they all told you how great the dance was. Ben’s castmates stayed. They said a fond goodbye to the band though, and you thanked them again for doing this for you. 

When rehearsal was over, the guys were making plans to go to dinner. 

“Y/N, you wanna come?” Joe wondered. 

“Oh, you guys can catch up,” you said, although you were sad about losing the time with Ben. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not at all,” Gwilym assured you. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Rami added. “Lucy’s meeting us at the restaurant as well.”

You found Ben’s eyes and he gave you a pleading look. You smiled. 

“Alright,” you agreed. 

As you all took seats around a table at the restaurant, greeting Lucy as you went, Joe looked at you. 

“Alright, I wanna hear the story of how you got that guy back who ghosted you,” he said. 

“Oh, God, I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” you groaned. 

“I want to hear this story as well,” Ben said, looking at you. 

You sighed. “Okay, this is super embarrassing, but that guy was my first time. He took my virginity, then he didn’t talk to me for four days, when I saw him at a party. He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him and started flirting with his friend. Later in the night, I literally looked him in the eyes while I took his friend upstairs.”

“Holy shit!” Joe cried, an amused smile on his lips. 

“That’s amazing,” Lucy said. 

“The funniest part is that I didn’t even sleep with his friend,” you said. “I just made him think I did. And they’re still not friends.”

You took a triumphant sip of your drink as they laughed. You enjoyed the rest of dinner with them, laughing and joking as you held Ben’s hand under the table. You were so grateful to go into the final weeks of the competition with such support. Ben’s friends were incredible. 

That night, as you lay beside him, your mind ran wild. You were having so much fun with Ben, and his friends, but their arrival just hit home yet again that your time together was dwindling down. You were at the bottom of the hourglass. You looked over at his sleeping form, his chest rising and falling evenly in his sleep, and tried to imagine sleeping without him there beside you. Your heart broke at the thought. 

The next day, you had Ben all to yourself in rehearsal. It was nice. You adored everyone who was at rehearsal the previous day, but you truly treasured your time just together now. He was doing really well since he remembered the routine and you were only having to make slight adjustments. 

Dress rehearsal and camera blocking was super fun since you got to rehearse with Queen and Adam playing for you. The other remaining couples were jealous of your celebrity performers. They were incredibly kind to everyone and signed a few autographs for people. You had already gotten one for your father. As well as several selfies. 

As quickly as it started, the week was over. It was showtime again. This showtime was a lot more exciting since you’d be dancing with Queen and Adam Lambert, but still it felt like time was slipping away from you. 

You and Ben were dancing first because the band had to leave before the show ended to catch a flight. Your video package was entertaining because you got to see just how shocked you looked to see the band, even if they did have to bleep out a few words. You smiled at Ben before taking your places. Then you started.

 Dancing with Queen playing felt like a dream come true. And the fact that it was with Ben made it all the dreamier. You dance to your favorite band, with your favorite person in your arms. When you took the break for Brian to play, you couldn’t hold back the yell of support for his talent as you pumped your fist in the air. Ben laughed at you, but quickly recovered to dance again. When you finished, the audience went crazy for the band. Claps and screams and whistles drowned out the ballroom. You and Ben were just as enthusiastic as Brian, Roger, and Adam took a few bows. 

When it all died down, you and Ben waited for the judges remarks. Len went first since he was your coach for this one. 

“Well done to Queen and Adam, I must say,” he began with a nod to the band. “And you two. Well, it was just fantastic. I mean, you just blew me away. The foot work, your frame, the content of the dance, it was all perfect. Ben, no matter what happens, you’ve won this competition.”

The audience all cheered, and you heard Joe’s voice above the others scream that he loved Ben. Ben laughed and blew him a kiss. 

“Ben!” Bruno cried. “The first time you did this dance, we knew you were a serious competitor. Now, you are looking like a champion! Like Len said, your technique was incredible and you really looked like you were having the time of your life out there. Well done, my boy, well done.”

“I’m always having the time of my life with Y/N,” Ben replied, squeezing your shoulder.

You giggled and kissed his cheek while the audience fawned over you. 

“You guys are so sweet,” said Carrie Ann during her turn. “Ben, you have proven, week after week, just how much you belong in this competition. And you just proved it again. Perfect, perfect dance, Ben. And if you’re not in the finals then I’m gonna - I dunno - riot in the streets.”

You all laughed. Tom instructed you to head to the skybox to get your scores. Erin greeted you warmly. 

“You guys!” she cried. “That was amazing! What was it like to dance with Queen playing for you?”

“Oh, it’s - I feel like I don’t even have words,” Ben said. “Do you?”

You shrugged. “No, not really! It was so amazing!”

“So, Y/N, I wanna ask you,” she said. “You’ve been to this point in the competition before. What do you feel like is different between now and then?”

You considered that. “Well, that’s tough to say. Dancing with Ben is different because we have a connection that is hard to describe. Not that James and I weren’t connected - we were - but Ben is just easy. We dance together and it feels natural and fun and perfect. He’s...everything I could ever hope for in a partner and friend.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close to you. He grabbed your head and kissed the top of it. 

“You’re perfect, baby,” he murmured, his mouth avoiding the mic. “I love you.”

“That is so sweet,” Erin said, responding to your words as you broke away from Ben. “This partnership has been such a joy to watch. You guys ready for your scores?”

You both nodded and looked anxiously at the judges.

“Ten!” Carrie Ann cried, holding up the paddle. 

“From Len,” Len said. “A ten!”

“Ten!” Bruno added with a punch to the air. 

“Another perfect score!” Erin said excitedly. “Ben, what does all of this mean to you?”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. “I can’t - I can hardly believe this. I owe it all to Y/N for being patient with me and supporting me and just being the greatest teacher.” 

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed his forehead to yours as you both grinned. 

“I can’t say it enough, you two are adorable,” Erin said. “Back to you, Tom!”

Tom took the show to commercial. The rest of the show went great and the other couples were amazing, but you and Ben were still at the top of the leaderboard. 

At the end of the show, nerves turned your stomach. This was it. If you and Ben survived elimination, you would be finalists. You stood on the stage, holding Ben tightly to you again. You knew that the show was almost over anyway, but even just one more week with Ben was important to you. Every second felt vital. 

“The first couple to dance in the finale is…” Tom began, and he announced Emma and her partner. 

Ben squeezed you again. 

“The second couple going to the finale is…” Erin said. She announced Alan and his partner. 

You rubbed Ben’s back and gripped his jacket. It was down to you and Ben and Witney and her partner. They had been trailing you all competition. And they had loads of support on social media. You were actually worried.

“And the final couple heading to the finale, to dance for the coveted mirror ball trophy is…” said Tom. 

You buried your face in Ben’s chest. Could this be it? Could you really have made it this far only to lose now? You weren’t ready to say goodbye. Your heart couldn’t take it.

“Ben and Y/N!”

You were so relieved, you could only grip Ben tighter. He released a sigh and lifted you off your feet. You were thankful he did because you feared you might collapse. Tears escaped your eyes and trailed down your cheeks, but Ben gently wiped them away as you both laughed. The roar of the audience sounded quiet compared to the thundering of your heart. You had one more week at least.

As Tom closed the show you and Ben went over to say goodbye to Witney and her partner. They said a kind congratulations to you and Ben.

Then Joe, Rami, and Gwilym were upon you, hugging you and Ben and also shouting their congratulations. You were excited to go to the finale, and the idea of winning the mirror ball was thrilling. But there was still a bittersweetness there. You had one more week together, yes. But that was all you had.

[grazygardener]

I was tagged by @mmurdocks-law

name: Jenny

star sign: Taurus

height: 163

put your music on shuffle, what are the first 6 songs that popped up?:

Adam Lambert – Trespassing

Sia – Fair Game

Bastille – Icarus

Foxes – On My Way

Years & Years – Ties

CMX - Maanalainen

grab the book nearest to you and turn to page 23. what’s line 17?: I'm just surrounded by sketch books.

ever had a song or poem written about you?: There's a song made of my old class in tune of RHCP Under The Bridge and one verse was dedicated to me :D

when was the last time you played air guitar?: Must be years because it's not something I do.

who is your celebrity crush?: He's irish and he has The Beard

what’s a sound you hate? how about love?: I hate noises drunk people make. I love the sound of waves, sketching, and the wind in long grass or in the tree leaves.

do you drive? if so, have you ever crashed?: I do and I once bumbed into a light post, does that count?

last book you read?:  Margaret Atwood's Blind Assassin. I didn't like it.

do you like the smell of petrol?: Yeah

what was the last movie you saw?: Star Wars: The Last Jedi

what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: The time my co-worker hit me on the head, because it caused me memory issues which I have to deal with the rest of my life.

do you have any obsessions right now?:  Oh boy do I? Stendan, Lush, plants, beards, things with picture of tache on them, Tom Of Finland, food, coffee, arting, ASMR...

do you tend to hold grudges against anyone who’s done you wrong?: I never forget if someone has been awful to me or those closest to me, so even if I move past the anger and haven't thought about the person in years when someone suddenly mentions them I'm still like ”oh yeah that dude's a shithead.”

in a relationship?: On my way to become a crazy old cat person.

@nickolaifinn @spacepearl and  @celine3028 might be up for this?

[hemcountry]

MEETING EMMYLOU, THE FRENCH SUN AND AN IRISH HARVEST!

I TALK TO NIAMH LYNN ON MEETING EMMYLOU, MELTING IN THE FRENCH SUN, AND LOOKING FORWARD TO AN IRISH HARVEST TIME!

With this year’s Harvest Country Music Festival drawing nearer by the day, one of the Irish stars who’ll be joining headline acts Nathan Carter and Miranda Lambert in entertaining fans in Westport and Enniskillen come the weekend of August 26th and 27th, recently melted the hearts of 30,000 country fans in France. As well as her own toenails for good measure!

Over the past couple of years Dublin-born songstress Niamh Lynn has been wooing fans the length and breath of Ireland with her traditional style of country, calling to mind for many a style that might best be described as old-fashioned. But old-fashioned in the best possible way. We’re talking a Patsy Cline kind of old-fashioned. And I’ll take that any day of the year. Of any year, in fact. Niamh’s debut album is the immensely enjoyable ‘An Old Fashioned Song’, and it was many of the tracks from this collection which Naimh and her band performed at the Rendez-vous Festival, where none other than Emmylou Harris herself also took to the stage.

Needless to say, when Niamh and I sat down for a chat last week, the memory was still quite vivid in her mind’s eye….

“I’m still buzzin’ from it, Anthony, it was absolutely amazing. There’s no words to describe it. From start to finish, from the moment I got there, the festival looked after me so well. We got in on the Friday, then on the Saturday went down and did our soundcheck at the venue, then had another little rehearsal in the dressing room, and went on-stage at 6 o’ clock. And the heat! I can’t tell ya the heat! Oh my God. The nail varnish on my toenails actually melted! Swear to God, it was just so warm. Where I was, it was like a suntrap because it was just a big black stage, ya know, and then at that time of the day and where the sun happened to be and everything. The heat was stifling. Even one of the lads was burning his fingers from his guitar, it was getting that warm, crazy. But we soldiered on [laughs]. And the reaction I got from the crowd was unbelievable, there was 30,000 people there, like. As soon as we started to play everybody started coming down towards the stage, and we had them with us for the full ninety minute set. We came off stage then and one of the promoters came up to us and said I needed to go with him, that there was a queue stretching around the corner waiting to meet me! And I was just like, ‘Me?!’ But it was fabulous. People wanted their hats signed, and they were buying albums, some girl even asked me to sign my name on her arm and said she’s going to get it tattooed on! Very bizarre! [laughs].”

How did Niamh come to be taking part in the first place?

“Well my manager, Declan Quinn, LCM Promotions, he’s been chatting with them [the festival organizers] for a couple of years. And when he finally put me forward for it, he sent over a couple of my videos and my album, and they took me straight way, that was basically it.”

Niamh is well used to performing in front of big crowds here in Ireland, with numerous festivals, big support slots, and award ceremony appearances behind her. But a crowd of 30,000 is definitely a whole new level for any artist to experience. I asked Niamh how she felt about it?

“Do you know what, I was coming up the ramp at the back of the stage to go on, and Declan was walking with me, and I said to him, ‘It’s grand, sure it’s just like Moynalty when I supported Nathan [Carter], it’ll be fine.’ Cos’ Nathan always has huge crowds, ya know. But I got up at the side of the stage, saw the crowd, and I was like woooah!! [laughs]. There’s video of me standing there, looking cool as a cucumber, but I was screaming inside, I can tell ya! But once you get out there, it’s grand. You just get on with it. I was just trying to make sure I was on the same page as the lads, and concentrate on things like that, and in that heat it was work! It was hard work, but at the same time we had a ball. I’d do it a million times over again. We had the crowd with us from the second song in, they all started coming down towards the stage, it was just unbelievable.”

Niamh with one of the best there’s ever been, or will ever be, Emmylou Harris.

And to crown a magical moment in her life and career, Niamh also got to spend some one-on-one time with one of the most famous country artists of all time, the wonderful Emmylou Harris.

“Yeah, I got to meet Emmylou afterwards, got a photograph with her, too. And there was security everywhere with her. I was in my dressing room, right, which was directly across from hers, and I got in after finishing my set to get my dress off, because of the heat it was soaking, ya know. And I heard Emmylou coming in. And as I said, before that, there was security all around her, you couldn’t get near her. So I said right, now’s my chance [laughs]. So I stuck my head out and I just asked her for a photograph! And we got talking, and she was asking me about my dress, and we got yapping away then. I was telling her about a song that I love her singing called ‘Goodbye’, which I heard about two years ago. And I was listening to it at the time because my grandmother was only after dying. And I never used to say goodbye to my nanny, I always used to say ‘I’ll see ya when I see ya.’ And I was telling her this, and why that song means so much to me, and she said she loved the song too and she was so sorry to hear about my grandmother. She was just so lovely. It happened so quickly, but I’d say I must have been talking to her for about five minutes. And nobody came near us. So it was just us talking about that song and the songwriter, and how she came to hear it, and then listened to it over and over again. So it might be one for my next album now, you’s never know.”

Harvest Fest Line-Up

And Niamh won’t have too long to wait for another big career milestone to come along, because the Harvest Country Music Festival is so close now you can almost hear the bands beginning to tune up! Is Niamh excited about her upcoming trips to Westport and Enniskillen?

“Oh I can’t wait, because I’ll have the same band with me as I had in France and the lads are brilliant. I’m really looking forward to seeing them again. And Harvest Fest is gonna be huge, two days, Westport and Enniskillen. I’m in Westport first, on the Saturday, then Enniskillen on the Sunday. I think. But I could be wrong, I’m shocking with dates! [laughs]. So everybody check that! [laughs]. I think it’s a forty minute set, too, so it’s gonna be great fun. And we had a photo-shoot with the Irish Independent for it last week, so that should be out sometime soon, a nice glossy magazine, should be good.”

Asked if there was is any artist in particular whom Niamh was most looking forward to seeing, and maybe meeting as well, her response was instant and definite!

“Charley Pride!! Of course! [laughs]. The big one, for sure. And Mo Pitney, too, I’m looking forward to meeting him. There’s gonna be so many great artists there who I’m looking forward to seeing. I’ll be wanting photos with them all, I think [laughs].”

Niamh with host of The Late Late Show, Ryan Tubridy

Now while Niamh has always known she could sing, and has always enjoyed sharing her gift with people, she hasn’t always been a country singer, per say. So what prompted her turn in this direction in the last year or so?

“I was in a variety group when I was about twelve, thirteen, until I was about fifteen, I think, and it was called the Joe Mack Group. We used to go around to hospitals and Nursing Homes and we’d all have our own act, and mine was Country Sounds with Niamh Phillips, that’s my maiden name. So that’s what I did, When I left that I came up with the idea of a gospel choir in school, we were called Saint Mary’s Angel’s Gospel Choir. And there was an end of school year mass coming up that we were asked to come in and sing at, and I said, yeah, but what if we do gospel instead, ya know, like something out of Sister Act 2, cos’ I loved Lauren Hill! [laughs]. So Brother John said to me, right so, well sing me a song. So I sang ‘Oh Happy Day’, and his eyes kinda went in spirals, and I think it set off some light-bulbs for him. He went off and he got a load of songs, and I ended up being in that choir for three years. We even ended up singing with Celine Dion, and on the Bibi Baskin Show (on Irish television), loads of things. And they’re actually known now as the Dublin Gospel Choir, and they’ve gone on to do great things. But I decided to leave them to join a band, a wedding band, because there was actually a good living to be made out of it, ya know. So I did that for a few years and then I went back to college. I wanted to study beauty because I loved anything kinda sparkly, make-up and stuff [laughs]. So I studied Beauty Therapy for a few years and then I worked in that industry for three years. After that I got married and had my kids. But then I said right, it’s time for music again, because I always wanted to go back to it. I was living in Cavan by then, and I’m still living there, and I could see how big the country scene was. So I started thinking maybe I could go back into country again, because that’s what I used to do in the Joe Mack Group. So that’s what I went back to doing, singing those old country songs that I love. There’s a niche there for it, I think, because nobody really does it anymore. And I think that was part of the reason for all of the attention I got in France, ya know, simply because nobody really sings those songs anymore. So I suppose you could say that I’ve just started up again where I left off once before.”

Niamh’s fab debut album, ‘An Old Fashioned Song.’

Niamh’s album is called ‘An Old Fashioned Song’, and I think that really sums up her love for traditional, ‘old-fashioned’ country, like Patsy Cline. What is it about that old-fashioned style of country that has always drawn Niamh to it?

“Well Patsy Cline, who you just mentioned, would be one of my favourite singers. And I think that’s where I get the tone of my voice. I’ve always loved singing her songs, and I’ve always felt comfortable singing those type of songs, too. They seem to suit my range and my tone. I don’t think it’s really a choice, to be honest. It’s more that country chose me, rather than me choosing country, if that makes sense?! [laughs].”

In action with Irish country star Johnny Brady on their duet, ‘A Love I Think Will Last.’

Niamh had mentioned her manager, Declan Quinn, earlier in our chat, and one of my favourite tracks on ‘An Old Fashioned Song’ is ‘I’m Missing You’, written by Declan. How important has Declan been in Niamh’s career?

“Oh listen…he’s the one who’s got me to where I am now, and in the direction I’m going in. I never knew which way to go myself. Just by chance I sent him my demos and they were country ones. He got onto me straight away and we set up a meeting where he said look, you need to get an image, you need to get a video, and you need to get a good song. And he asked me if I had any in mind. So I said yeah, and mentioned ‘An Old-Fashioned Song’, and he was like, yeah, good song! So he told me what I needed to do, and I went off and did it. So Declan knows I can come up with good ideas, with my image, and for the type of videos I want, ya know. Declan, to put it simply, has been a massive help to me.”

So Niamh is pretty hands-on with most aspects of her career then?

“Oh Yeah, absolutely.”

Niamh with songwriting great Phil Vassar

It’s often remarked upon that it’s much harder for female artists on the country scene than their male counterparts. I wondered if that had been Niamh’s own experience too, or what were her thoughts on this?

“I honestly think that for any type of work that a woman goes into, it’s gonna be hard [to be successful], so you have to push. With the country scene, I don’t feel that I need to be a b*t*h, as such, not to anyone. I don’t see it that way. But I do think you have to work that little bit harder alright for people to notice you. But again, to be honest, I don’t even really think about in that sense, female artist or male artist. I just think that whoever you are, you just need to work hard to get on in what you do.”

Before the year ends Niamh hopes to make it to Nashville, where she’ll be turning her attention to her songwriting.

“I’m in the middle of recording the first of my own songs now. I have loads of songs written, but I’ve never had the courage to do them before. And I don’t play an instrument so it’s harder as well. But there’s one particular song of my own that I’m in recording at the moment, and we’re back in there again working on that next week. So that’ll be my first self-penned song that I’ve recorded and am putting out there. With Nashville, we’ve been planning on going for the last few years but I kept saying no, I don’t want to go over there with nothing of my own to show. ‘An Old Fashioned Song’ is an album that gives people a first chance to hear me, see what I’m about and how I sound, but it’s not my own stuff. But my own stuff, when it’s out there, will be based on that old-time Nashville sound. That’s the way I want it to be, but with my own songs, ya know. So I want to go over there with something of my own done, because that’s what it’s all about in Nashville, songs and songwriters, and singer/songwriters. You can’t be going over there with covers! I’m pretty sure that would be frowned upon! [laughs]. So yeah, that’s the plan with Nashville. Please God, once I have everything in place, and I’m comfortable with what I have, we’ll be all guns blazing to get over there.”

And when might fans be able to expect a second album from Niamh, featuring some of her own songs this time?

“God, I don’t know. But I’m thinking next summer. Because I’m taking my time with it. I don’t want to be just throwing something out there, I want it to be good. I mean I could just get a few more covers, and write a couple, and throw them all in together, but I don’t want to do it that way. I want to do it right. And I tend to not look at what everyone else is doing, to be honest with ya. I go at my own pace, and do what feels right for me. You need to be committed to these things for them to work, and what I have at the moment is working nicely for me. People are getting to know me at a steady pace. I’m not throwing myself into a band here, then a band there, I’ve got a great band behind me. So I’m going to take it from here and take my time.”

* Niamh Lynn performs at the Harvest Country Music Festival in Westport [on Sunday!] and Enniskillen on August 26th and 27th. For more information on this event, go to aikenpromotions.com

** For more information on Niamh, check out her website, niamhlynn.com.

MEETING EMMYLOU, THE FRENCH SUN AND AN IRISH HARVEST! was originally published on HEM COUNTRY

[hemcountry]

INTERVIEW: THE ONLY THING I REALLY LOOK FOR IS HONESTY AND TRUTH

Some things in life are hard to put into words. While other things, however, can be easy as pie. Articulating Mo Pitney’s place in the world of country music right now definitely falls into the pie category! Simply put, this young man from Illinois is one of the most exciting talents to appear on the country scene in…well, you know what, it’s probably not wrong to say decades. Nor is wrong to say (at least not in the eyes or ears of this writer) that Mo, although at a slightly younger age, is doing much the same as what Chris Stapleton has been doing for country music over the last few years. By putting the song, and the story in the song, right back at the centre of a traditional country sound, Mo has been winning new fans, winning back old fans, and reminding everyone of the main thing that has always made country music so special: great songs, simply told.

When the chance came along for me to chat with Mo recently, I didn’t need to be asked twice if I was interested. In fact, I’m not sure the full question was even asked before I’d said yes! I was excited, and I wasn’t let down.

Now the first big reason Mo and I were actually chatting was because next month he returns to the UK & Ireland to take part in the first Harvest Country Music Festival and a set of shows across the UK, Harvest Fest held in Westport in Mayo, and Enniskillen in Fermanagh, on consecutive days and will be headlined by Nathan Carter and Miranda Lambert, and will also feature artists like Charley Pride, Kip Moore, Dan & Shay, and Sam Palladio, as well as Ireland’s Una Healy, Hurricane Highway, Catherine McGrath, and Pete Kennedy, and the proverbial ‘many, many more’!

Mo Pitney UK Tour Dates

Harvest Fest Line-Up

I asked Mo if he was looking forward to being back in front of an Irish audience again?

“Oh yeah. Totally. I mean, my first trip to Ireland has been my favourite trip, so to be able to come back and bring my wife and baby, well I’m just thrilled.”

Mo’s first time in Ireland had been for last year’s Irish TV Irish Country Music Awards.

“It was, it was. Me and my brother came over then, and we just had a great time. So yeah, this time thankfully, it’s gonna be my wife, and my baby and I, but also my brother’s comin’ again. And my sister is comin’ too, because they’re part of the band. And my dad runs sound, so he’s comin’. And my mom’s comin’ over just to join the ride, because she couldn’t be left out! [laughs]”

Mo at the dress rehearsal for last year’s Irish TV’s Country Music Awards

With the extended Pitney clan all boarding a plane for Ireland, I wondered if there was going to be anyone left at home to look after things there?

“Oh I don’t know, maybe we’ll just have to let it all go by the wayside and let the weeds grow over everything here, I don’t know! [laughs]”

Before we moved on to Mo’s own music, the second big reason we were talking, I wanted to ask him about something he once said about country music. And that was this: that when he began really listening to country songs as his love for the music grew, he started trying to, “…figure out what moved me and why it moved me….” So what I wanted to know was did Mo ever figure out what it is about country songs that move him, and why?

“Well, I think lookin’ back now I’m understanding more about what and why things move me. But I always knew I felt things very deeply. Whenever I was listening to Merle Haggard’s music or someone else’s music, even if I hadn’t gone through whatever they had gone through, I was still able to recognise that they had gone through something very, very significant or difficult, or joyful or whatever it was, for them. But I knew they were experiencing some very intense emotions, even if it was good or bad. And I think some of that [being able to to relate and empathise on such a deep level] got me into some bad places, especially with some depressed country music! [laughs]. I don’t know, I think it’s recognising artists that sing about something they had actually lived through, and wasn’t kinda puttin’ on somethin’ that was fake.”

Mo Pitney…behind that guitar!

So in a way, even when Mo was very young, it was almost as if he was an old soul really?

“Yeah, well my dad was a steel guitar player, so he was always playin’ the old stuff around the house, and we also played bluegrass music. So naturally when you’re a bluegrass musician you’re really tuned into the old stuff. So I think it was just the environment that I grew up in that just made it seem pretty normal to look to the past. So I owe a lot of my kind of traditional flavor to that.”

So, onto to Mo’s own music. ‘Country’, of course, is the song that really brought him to peoples’ attention and into their hearts. And it’s songs like ‘Country’, ‘Clean Up In Aisle Five’, ‘I Met Merle Haggard Today’, and ‘Everywhere’, that all possess a beautiful, simple sense of truth, something that’s very easy for fans to relate to. Now me, I’m a dog man. So with a song called ‘It’s Just A Dog’ on the album, and given that ‘I Met Merle Haggard Today’ was based on a real-life experience for Mo, I had to know….was ‘It’s Just A Dog’, with the heartbreaking line near the end, “….it just hits me/ she’s not with me…”, based on a true story, too???

“Well, it is, and in fact, there’s three true stories in that song. I wrote that song with Jimmy Melton and Dave Turnbull, and when we were writing all three of us were writing about certain different elements about our relationships with our first dogs. So depending on what line you’re hearin’, you’re hearin’ a true story about one of our first dogs. I think all three of us had lost dogs, and especially back then [when you’re younger], it just hits you like, oh my gosh, this dog that you’ve had for however long, that could always cheer you up, is not here anymore.”

Mo, on the day he met Merle Haggard

It must have been a pretty emotional song to write then?

“Oh yeah. And by the time that I had written that song, it was a long time after I had lost my first dog. But I did have my favourite dog with me still at the time when we were writing it. The song didn’t take very long to write, and the guys had already had it started before I jumped on in. So we recorded it, and then on my drive home I put my phone up to my ear and listened to it and cried, ya know. It wasn’t hard as we were writing it, but afterwards, when I was listening to it as I was driving home I knew the song had something special to it.”

When Mo writes, is every song that he begins or finishes one that might potentially be released some day, or are there some songs that he writes just to get things out of his system, or for personal reasons, or even just for practice almost?

“Well you’re always just writin’ and hopin’ that a song will be heard in some space or another. I think there’s certain ideas that you recognise probably won’t find room in a mainstream space, but you’re always hopin’ that it will get heard in some way. But there are songs that you can tell are more personal, and maybe just for you, even if you doubt that anyone else might feel it. But sometimes they do, because a song is so real. But I don’t think I’m always tryin’ to think about where a song might eventually show up. I’m normally just writin’ to write, and let a song be in whatever space it finds itself happen, rather than try and force it there.”

When you love what you do, it looks something like this!

Mo has been described as being a ‘Man who loves God and George Strait’, which is not a bad way for any man to be described in my book! Mo’s faith is clearly very important to him, and therefore a big part of his life. But what kind of role, if any, does it play in his songwriting? Are there certain subjects that he wouldn’t write about? Or does he try and weave some kind of positive message into most of his songs?

“What I’m recognising is that faith always hopes. And there’s a temptation when we feel down or discouraged to write in such a way that is really….. hopeless, overly sad. But I can tell that my desire, even if I do go through times of hopelessness or discouragement, is that I’m always tryin’ to bring in my songs an underlying faith element. Because I think there’s much too much art and music that really just pushes us down into the pit even farther. And I think that’s one thing that drives me. And then there’s also things that…I mean, you write a love song, ya know, and I recognise things that ‘The Word’ tells me you don’t want to idolise, like a relationship. You really want to treat a relationship with your wife, or with your children, as a gift from God and not an end in and of itself. And there’s certain inflections in the way that I write that I can’t really ever get away from because of what I believe. So I think that gives a little tone and twist on every song I write, even if it’s not about God. If it’s about my relationships here on Earth, or my experiences here on Earth, it always has a little different nature to it than maybe what someone who doesn’t believe would write.”

Mo and Emily, before 2 became 3!

I love the fact that Mo recorded ‘Behind This Guitar’ while singing and playing at the one time, in a very traditional, pretty much ‘live’ way. I wondered if he’d agree that with so many songs nowadays being recorded literally piece-by-piece, as opposed to how he had done it, if that has maybe contributed to the blurring of lines between what’s country, what’s pop, what’s rock, and so on?

“I don’t think it’s the way things are recorded in as much as it is just the actual people that are recording. We’re all looking for something new and exciting and different, and we’re tryin’ to ring the bell and make money, and survive on this Earth and play the game. And that just causes art to be confused. And I’m really not sayin’ this to say that what’s goin’ on is right or wrong, I have no problem with things evolving and turning into something different than it was in the past. The only thing I really look for is honest and truth. So even if someone thinks differently than I do, as long as in their art they’re being true to themselves, I think there’s something to be respected about that. Whether that be a party song, or a different type of track, whatever it might be, as long as they’re not not tryin’ to be someone else that they’re not. I think it’s ok to be however they’re gonna be.”

Mo Pitney Behind The Guitar available now. Click here to download ‘Behind The Guitar’..

Now, not only is Mo a young husband to Emily, and a young father to Evelyn, but he himself, of course, is a young musician. And as such, and even more so because of his success, he’s one who spends a lot of time on the road and away from home, something which must be quite tough at times?

“Yeah, it is. And I definitely strive in any way that I can to keep them on the road with us. And like I said, they’re actually comin’ over with us to you guys’ land when we go, both the baby and Emily, which I’m really excited about. It’s just kinda not very natural, historically, for a husband to be away from his wife. I think God really designed it for him [a husband] to come home and be in the same bed every night. I think there’s something really safe and healthy about that, that the music business can’t break up. And really in culture at large, I think we’ve really gotten the ability to get too far away from a rooted place called home. So it [being on the road] can make it difficult, but I’m thankful that in this day and age, even though we are travelling, we’ve got cellphones and that’s awesome. And we’ve got Facetime, that’s helpful. But we do strive to stay close together as much as we can. We just think that’s the right approach.”

Mo with his little girl Evelyn at the Ryman.

It’s the one question that Mo probably has fired at him in every single interview he does, so before I even asked him this, I felt like I should probably apologise for throwing it his way again. So I did. And then I asked him anyway….For any country artist, walking out onto the Grand Ole Opry stage, and setting foot inside that circle, which is sacred ground in country music terms, it has to have changed him. The Mo Pitney that walked off stage couldn’t have been the same Mo Pitney that walked on stage, surely? What was that experience like for him?

“Well there was a lot of fear before I went out, and doubt as to whether or not we would be received well. So being able to go out and step into the circle, and just be a kid that shared his song, and then have the place stand on its feet and applaud, really it blew me away. And I think there was a moment of recognising that wow, well maybe I do have a spot here in the music industry where I could make a livin’ and enjoy playin’ music the rest of my life. So there was a lot that happened, not just thinkin’ about that moment alone, but what that moment could mean for the rest of my life, too. It was pretty powerful. And I’m really thankful to be able to look back on my first time there and have such a great memory.”

Before saying our goodbyes, at least until Harvest Fest next month anyway, we closed our chat with a little what-if kind of a question. If any past country artist, someone who’s already passed on, could come back and play just one more ‘live’ show, who would Mo most love to go and see perform?

“Hmm. Let me think. Maybe….wow. Yeah, maybe George Jones, only because I didn’t get to see him. I got to see Merle. It would probably be a tie between Roger Miller and George Jones. I’m very much so a Roger Miller fan, too.

For me, the soul of Mo Pitney was revealed in that last answer about what it felt like for him that first time he played the Opry. Whereas so many people just want to be famous these days, and being a ‘celebrity’ is often seen as being a worthwhile goal in itself, for Mo, playing on the greatest stage of them all just made him think that maybe he could “make a livin’ and enjoy playin’ music” the rest of his life. Simple as that.

And I think you just might, Mo, I think you just might.

UK & Ireland Tour Dates

26th Aug Harvest Fest Enniskillen Tickets 27th Aug Harvest Fest Westport Tickets 30th Aug Thekla Bristol Tickets 31st Aug The Borderline  London Tickets 1st Sept The Bodega Social Club Nottingham Tickets 2nd Sept Brudenell Social Club Leeds Tickets 3rd Sept Night & Day Café Manchester Tickets 5th Sept The Prince Albert Brighton Tickets

  INTERVIEW: THE ONLY THING I REALLY LOOK FOR IS HONESTY AND TRUTH was originally published on HEM COUNTRY