thestoryofusstan

[thestoryofusstan]

TAYYYY OMG HIIIII GF IMY (if you don't know who i am this is embarrassing)

WAIT NAMEDROP BC I THINK I KNOW BUT I DONT WANNA BE WRONG

[thestoryofusstan]

I LOVED THE LATEST PART OF THE FAY READER

AWWWW TYYY

[thestoryofusstan]

THOSE SUMMER NIGHTS ⋆.ೃ࿔*

word count: 0.1k || masterlist

summary: campfire w your girlfriend!! apollo!fem!reader

author's note: really short clarisse blurb for u gays guys

you shiver when a cold gust of wind blows against your back. you and clarisse are sitting on a log together, around the campfire. she has one arm around you and one holding two sticks with marshmallows over the fire.

"you cold, sunshine?" she asks. she adjusts her arm over you slightly, pulling you closer to her body.

"mhm," you hum.

"hold these," she say, handing you the sticks. you grab them, watching as she pulls her jacket off, revealing her tank top. her arms flex slightly as she drapes her jacket around your shoulders. she takes the sticks from you and puts her arm around you once again.

"won't you get cold?" you ask, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. despite your girlfriend's jacket keeping you warm, you could still feel the chill in the summer air.

"nah," she replied, kissing your head. "i'll be fine, babe."

you smile up at her, and she smiles back. "i love you," you say, reaching up to cup her face.

she rolled her eyes. "yeah, yeah, i love you too, sunshine," she mumbled, capturing your lips with hers.

[thestoryofusstan]

Allies or Enemies

pairing: harry styles x fay!reader

summary: amidst a fay hunt in your village, you fled to a different town far away. a human town. wanting to keep your identity a secret, you allow the townspeople to name you angelina. you're doing fine in the town until a mysterious man appears for unknown reasons. harry. and you don't trust him one bit.

warnings: cursing, violence, a religion similar to christianity gets bashed (not actual christianity though), magic (duh), angst, slowburn, some triggering topics such as abuse, murder, and sa.

—

“i know you’re a fay.”

there were a few ways she could go about this. she could lie and say she had no clue what he was talking about. she could ask him how she knew. or.. she could.. kill him. but she didn’t really want to do that. at least, she didn’t think so.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally replied.

“don’t lie to me, angel.”

him calling her angel felt like a taunt.

“you know i’m right.”

“no. you’re speaking nonsense,” she shook her head, turning around. “fays went extinct two hundred years ago, and any magic, especially fay magic, is banned. it’s a death sentence. why would you accuse me of that?”

“aven did once. i wonder why..”

“you have no clue what you’re talking about. shut up before you get me in trouble—“

“you’re scared, because you think i’m human,” he states.

she paused. what? “you are human.. and so am i.”

“no. you are fay. as am i.”

“you’re only saying that to get me to admit it—“

“so you’re saying there is something to admit?”

“no!”

he sighed, “if there is no other options.. i’ll prove it to you.”

he held out his hand and summoned a flame. her eyes widened before she covered his palm with her own, summoning water to put out his flame.

“are you insane? do you have a death wish, is that it?” she hissed.

“we’re both fays, you don’t have to be afraid of me—“

“shut up before we’re both slaughtered. don’t speak of this here.”

“then where?”

she paused, before sighing. “follow me.”

she led him to the flower shop, hushing him as he questioned her. she brought him upstairs, to her quarters, before locking the door and window, using a wave of her hand to put a protection spell over it.

then, she turned to him with a cold look in her eye, “explain.”

“explain what?”

“everything. you aren’t from my coven, i know that much.”

“i was.. sent here. to find you.”

“by whom?”

“that is none of your concern.”

“they want to find me, therefore i believe it is my concern.”

“one of the more powerful fays in my coven. i do not know why.”

“why did you threaten him?”

“who?”

she groaned, “alvaro! you threatened alvaro when he came to bring me a letter. why?”

“i.. thought he was a threat. i was trying to protect you.”

“i can protect myself on my own just fine. if he really was a threat, he would’ve been dead before you knew he was coming.”

“you seem sure of that,” he commented.

“my mother is.. the right hand man, if you will, of our coven. any threat to me is a threat to the whole coven.”

“so you’re fay royalty?”

“you act as if you don’t know how fays work. no. we don’t have royalty. we are all equal. my family is just more powerful, so we protect the coven. and they protect us.”

he didn’t respond, and it grew quiet.

she awkwardly cleared her throat.

“why did you come here?” he suddenly asked.

“what?”

“why are you here, with humans, and not your coven? isn’t this dangerous?”

she paused before she answered. “my village was discovered by the people. they came in the night to burn our homes down. we had to flee, but i was being followed more than others. so i ran off. and then, when i lost the humans, i realized i’d also gotten lost myself.”

“and the.. angelina thing?”

“the people hunting us wanted me specifically. i don’t know why. but they knew my name. so i figured using my name would make me easier to find.”

“i suppose that makes sense.”

she nodded.

“did alvaro really deliver your mother’s letter?”

“.. yes. she asked me to return home for solstice. i’ll leave in three weeks.”

harry hummed and said nothing else.

“what of you?”

“i’m sorry?” he turned to her.

“what of you? where do you come from?”

“up north. my coven stays there,” he answered vaguely.

she nodded, allowing him to be vague for the time being. “well, if that is all, you should see yourself out. i do have a shop to run, unlike some.”

he smirked at her, “and what, pray tell, is so important to do with the shop?”

“well, if you must know, i’m doing a wedding boquet. they’ve requested flowers i don’t grow myself, so i’m off to the forests to find some.”

she slipped her cloak on, readjusting the hood over her head to make sure it covered her enough.

“then i shall leave you to it.”

—

she wasn’t quite sure where she stood with harry, although he would give her a knowing smile anytime he saw her on the streets, and she’d return it. she felt uneasy about the vagueness on his explanation of where he came from, but she busied herself with preparing for her journey for solstice.

the closer her trip got, the more she realized she hadn’t seen harry for the better part of nearly two weeks. she had no clue where he was staying, so she wasn’t able to just show up and check on him, but he hadn’t been in the square for a concerning amount of time.

it was late, half past midnight, if she had to guess. she was in the flower shop with a candle lit so she could see what she was doing as she arranged a last minute boquet— a gift for her mother. suddenly, someone was pounding on her door.

her first instinct was to not answer. it could’ve been the hunters finally catching up to her. however, the more insistant it got, the more irritated she grew.

she picked up the lantern and walked over to the door, opening it.

“what is it that you must pound on my door at— harry?”

her eyes widened at the sight of him. long, curly hair all disheveled, shirt half-unbottened with a red stain on his left side.

“good gods, harry— what happened to you?”

“hunters,” he groaned. when he saw her tense, he breathed out, “a few villages over. they’re gone.”

she nodded with pursed lips, glancing out into the darkness behind him, before placing a hand on his shoulder and tugging him inside. “come, come inside. it isn’t safe outside, not at this hour. not for us.”

he allowed her to pull him inside, brows furrowing when he saw the tulips and hibiscus flowers.

“for my mother— solstice. come upstairs.”

she led him upstairs with a gentle hand, sitting him down in her bathroom. she set the lantern down, leaving momentarily to grab a few more so she could actually see.

“alright,” she sighed once the bathroom was well-lit. “off with your shirt, let me see it.”

“angelina, how scandalous!”

she glared at him, “do you want my help or not?”

the amusement in his eyes died as he unbuttoned the shirt and slipped it off. her nose wrinkled at the sight.

“what did they get you with?” she asked quietly, hand reaching out to ghost over it.

“iron sword.”

“must have laced it— it’s already infected,” she murmured as she stood and walked towards the cabinet. she opened it up to reveal a plethora of medicinal herbs, ones he could tell she’d gone out herself to collect and make. “i expect an explanation as to why you were ‘a few villages over’ if i’m going to be helping you.”

she was glad her hair was already pinned up in a bun, a few wispy, curly strands sticking out from the messy up-do she’d done when she got hot arranging the flowers. corsets were not made for her— she much preferred fae fashion— light dresses, all one layer, with fun colors. not the bland browns, grays, blacks, and neutral colors humans typically wore.

“i was running errands. had to pick up bread— ‘s better over there. not as.. stale. fresher. also felt cooped up here. small town and everyone talkin’ ‘bout everyone. wanted to explore.”

“people like us don’t get to just explore, harry,” she sighed as she wet a rag.

he gave her look, “i know. trust me, i know. but you cannot lie to me and say you haven’t wanted to leave here, as well.”

“of course i want to leave, harry. i’d go to my village again if i could. but i can’t. it is safer to stay where you are— as long as nobody knows, we are safe. we know there are no hunters nearby. it’s an unspoken rule.”

“i’ve never been good with rules.”

she had to grin at that. “lean back,” she gestured for him to do as she said, sitting down across from him. he leaned back, exposing the wound. he winced as she began blotting the cloth over it. “sorry,” she murmured every time he winced, made a face, or took in a sharp breath.

“you can stop apologizing. i am well aware this is my own fault and the effects of my own recklessness.”

her eyes flitted up to him, an unreadable look in them, “don’t say that.”

“weren’t you the one scolding me a few moments ago?”

“yes, but only because i care,” she rolled her eyes, ringing out the now blood-stained cloth to replace it with fresh water.

“the great angelina cares for me?” he teased.

“that’s not my name. and yes, i do.”

“i know it’s not your name, but you’ve given me nothing else to call you,” he rebutdtaled.

she didn’t respond, simply pursing her lips. she rested the cloth against the wound. “hold it there,” she instructed. “pressure is key.”

she grabbed a few healing herbs and mixed them together until they were a paste.

“move the cloth.”

when he did, she gently applied the paste to his side before handing him an unlabeled vial.

“take a small sip.”

he took the vial and eyed it cautiously, “what is this?”

“a healing flower. or.. the liquidized version of it. my coven uses it for births. numbs the pain and heals it from the inside.”

he nodded, taking a small sip, setting it on the counter when he was done.

there was a beat of silence where they just stared into each other’s eyes. it was only then that she realized they were too close to each other.

“don’t wash the paste off for at least twenty-four hours,” she told him. “it should heal itself from there.”

she cleared her throat and stood.

“i’d prefer if you stayed with me while it heals. i don’t trust you to not do anything else.”

he gave a small, thankful smile, “thank you, angelina.”

“i already told you, that’s not my name,” she snapped. “and i don’t like it when you call me that.”

“then what would you prefer i say?”

she sighed before speaking her real name to someone for the first time in nearly five years, “y/n. my name is y/n l/n.”

—

a/n: AAAAA SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

taglist: @boomitsallie1

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry #harry styles au #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #little fay series #fay!harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry edward styles #harry styles x you

[thestoryofusstan]

Maybe this is a hot take but idk something that's always drawn me to Taylor is the fact that she's a little petty and messy. Idk he has a phone so he can break up with all the other dolls and I just think if boys don't want me to write bad songs about them they shouldn't do bad things Taylor they could NEVER get me to hate you

[thestoryofusstan]

GO READ MY BAES STUFF RIGHT NEOW WHORES

SOMETHING IN THE ORANGE ~ matt sturniolo.

PART 1

summary ~ y/n and matt broke up two months ago and she has been distant from him. barely hanging out with their mutual friendgroup, being hostile, even hooking up with some other guy. but matt? he’s still so in love that it’s killing him.

warnings ¡! ~ angsttttt, jealous!matt, use of y/n, not proofread😣, suggestive ??, highschool!matt & y/n, ttccc

a/n ~ heyy !!! new series!!! matt my love, im sorry for what i do to his heart in this🙏🙏🙏😣😣 anyway! enjoy💌💌🪩

word count: 1117

matt pov

i look at her from across the lunch hall, laughing with that jerk. her dimples prominent on her flushed cheeks as she smiled. the same dimples i used to kiss when she laughed at my jokes, the same dimples that used to break free when she tried to stay mad at me. the same dimples she used to think were ugly.

my stare must’ve lingered on her for a while, because i was snapped out of my thoughts by my brother, nicolas. “earth to matthew??” he waved a hand infront of my face and clicked his fingers.

i gripped his wrist and pushed it down, glancing back over at y/n as her hand brushed his arm. “why does she get to move on? huh?” i shook my head, looking down at my un-touched steak sandwich.

nick rolled his eyes, “will you stop talking about y/n? she’s still our friend, still your friend. just try to move on.” he said, and i just scoffed.

“what the fuck kind of advice is that? y/n literally left me for-” i started, chris coughing loudly over my voice. i turned my head to the left of me, y/n standing there and sitting down.

“hey guys!” she smiled, chris and nick returning her smile and greeting her. i stared, my face souring as she forced a smile to me. her face faltering for a second before she looked away. “so, have you guys done the history homework? it was soo hard.” she giggled, carrying out the ‘soo’

nick looked up at her, shaking his head, “fuck history, i don’t even know the history of taylor swift and jake gyllenhaal.” y/n laughed.

she loved taylor swift.

“just listen to all too well ten minute version, nicolas.” y/n shook her head, turning to chris. “no pepsi today?” she asked, looking at his bottle of water. “you hate water.”

i tried to refrain from saying something. because how could she just ignore us, ignore me, for weeks on end and suddenly be besties again?

i scoffed, “yeah, well, if you actually hung out with us these last few weeks, you’d know that he was on a health kick.” my face deadpan, arms folded against my chest. y/n glared at me, if looks could kill, we’d both be dead.

nick cleared his throat, y/n looking at him but i kept my stare on her. “it’s fine, matt.” chris said through his teeth, “but yeah, i thought maybe i should lay off the sugary drinks for awhile.” he nodded to y/n.

i opened my mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted by a kid in the grade above handing y/n a charger and kissing her temple. why the fuck was he kissing her temple?

“you left it in fourth.” he smiled, causing y/n to smile. that was my job, not reece fucking davis’. i clenched my jaw, glaring daggers at the blonde kids face. “see you after school, yeah?” y/n nodded, he kissed her cheek and ran off, going to meet his friends.

my stare landed back on her. she looked me up and down and scrunched her face up. “what, matt?” she spat, gripping her bag and sitting up.

“why the fuck are you dating reece davis?” i asked, narrowing my eyes.

y/n knitted her brows together, “i’m not dating him, matthew.” she stood up, ready to walk away when i snapped back.

“oh, my bad, hooking up with him.” i raised my eyebrows, watching as she scoffed and walked away. nick and chris looked at me, pressing their lips together and coughing.

i sighed deeply, “what?”

“dude. you guys broke up like two months ago, why are you still hung up on her?” chris spoke, causing me to roll my eyes and look away. “just go find a rebound or something.”

i shook my head. “i don’t want a fucking rebound, chris! i want y/n.” i slammed my hands on the cafeteria table and lifted off the bench. i walked into the corridor, heading towards my locker when i saw some sort of leaflet stuck to it.

i ripped it off and let my eyes scan over the writing, ‘party friday 8pm - jake kahan.’ i scrunched the piece of paper up and stuffed it in my locker, taking out my history notes for next period.

all i could think about was y/n. how could she do this to me? she broke up with me barely two months ago, and she was already hooking up with other guys? guys like reece fucking davis who just wanted to get into her pants.

i rolled my eyes and groaned at the thought, slamming my head into my locker. i felt a tap on my shoulder, it was daisy patterson. a girl who y/n despised since middle school.

i raised an eyebrow and tilted my head slightly, “hey?” i let out a small chuckle, “what’s up, daisy?”

she grinned, “matt right?’ i nodded, “are you going to jake kahans party on friday?” she asked, looking me up and down as i felt myself growing nervous.

“uh.. i don’t know, parties aren’t really my thing.” i shrugged, closing my locker. as i turned around daisy stepped closer to me , her fingers playing with my hoodie strings.

“well, i’m gonna be there, so.. think about it.” she winked, walking away, gripping her handbag in one arm and swaying her other arm as she practically strutted along the corridor.

i smiled slightly as i watched her leave, a soft rosy tint to my cheeks. i turned back the other way, spotting y/n staring at me. she scoffed and walked away. i mumbled a “fuck.” and chased after her.

“wait, y/n! wait up!” i shouted as i tried to catch up to her. as i approached the girl i grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to me. she yanked her arm from my grip, frowing.

“really, matt? daisy patterson?” she raised her eyebrows, pressing her lips together in disbelief.

i bite back a scoff, “you really wanna talk about that? seriously? what about the fact you’re hooking up with reece davis, huh? the kid that literally cheats on every girl he’s with.” i nod and roll my eyes as y/n looks down as the feet.

“all daisy asked is if i was going to that stupid fucking party at jake kahans house on friday. which i said no to. i’m not that shitty of a person, y/n. maybe you should check yourself first.” i spat, barging past her and walking to next period.

i didn’t like being cold to her. she was the love of my life literally two months ago, but that was then and this is now.

hiii babies

i hope part 1 was okay…

im tryna get used to being a writer again bc i originate from wattpad🥶🥶🥶🥶

also imagine young gilmore girl era chad micheal murray as reece !!

taglist: @mattslolita 💌 @mattsturnioloisbae 💌 @sturnzsblog 💌 @thestoryofusstan 💌

[thestoryofusstan]

PLEASE MAKE SWEET CREATURE A SERIES I LOVE IT

IT IS A SERIES IM WORKING ON PART TWO I JUST HAVE A LOT SITTING IN THE DRAFTS LMAO

[thestoryofusstan]

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

--

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

--

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

#harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry #harry styles #boss!harry styles x reader #boss!harry styles #ceorry #ceo!harry styles #ceo!harry styles x reader

[thestoryofusstan]

Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

yes!! i will get to work on this!!!

ps: anyone else who has sent in requests, i’m working on them i swear!! i’ve just been sick😭😭😭

[thestoryofusstan]

good riddance the album that you are

[thestoryofusstan]

would you ever write a Gracie Abrams x reader fic? 💕

yes!! i dont have any ideas but send some in & i’ll do it!

#gracie abrams x reader #gracie abrams

[thestoryofusstan]

Uptown Girl

pairing: fashion designer!harry x younger!fashion designer!reader

summary: you’re working in a designer boutique, and just so happen to have a late entrance when world-renowned designer harry styles visits for a collaboration. he seems to take a liking to you, and you aren’t sure if that makes you relieved or more anxious

warnings: some cursing, not edited as usual

-

harry styles was a well-known name. ceo and founder of pleasing, a nail polish and perfume company. he also owned many other companies, but really, there were too many to keep track of. he was also, most importantly, one of the biggest fashion icons.

you were very familiar with him— had saved up every penny when you were younger to buy a pleasing perfume and now owned a very small collection of their nail polishes.

so, of course, you lost your shit when you found out he’d be coming into your job.

you were a fashion design major at nyu, and had gotten a job at a very esteemed designer (not one of the name brands, but still). although you did expect the job to have more opportunities to.. actually design fashion, you were still grateful nonetheless.

it was just your luck that the day that harry styles was coming in, you were late. it wasn’t your fault! really, it wasn’t! you were always on time because you got anxious at the mere thought of being late.

by the time you parked, you practically ran to the store, silently praying you wouldn’t break a leg as you were running in heels.

“i’m not late am i?” you ask breathlessly as you finally enter the store, fixing your hair and outfit.

you had curled your hair the night before, so they were still pretty much intact. your outfit consisted of black heels, brown dress pants, and a black, tight-fitting turtleneck.

“yes, y/n. you are late,” your boss gave you a look, and you knew you’d be in trouble. “mr. styles, i am so sorry. our employs are.. usually punctual.”

your head snaps over to look in the direction she was talking, and your heart drops when you make eye contact with harry styles.

great.

“mr. styles, i am so sorry,” you apologize.

“it’s perfectly alright,” he gives a kind smile.

that makes you feel a bit better.

“y/n, a word in my office please.”

you deflate as you look back to your boss and follow her to her office

the second the door is closed, she’s chewing you out.

“how unprofessional can you be? i know you are in college, but jesus christ!”

“i’m sorry! there was so much traffic, and my car is so old it stops working if i go faster than 50, and—“

“i don’t need excuses,” she cuts you off. “i need you to be more professional.”

you inhale, “i am sorry, but it was not my fault. i have never once been late before, and you know that. it was a one-time mistake.”

“it better be.”

she walks out and slams the door to the office, leaving you alone in there.

you look up to the ceiling as you bite your lip and try not to cry.

after taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you walk back out into the otherwise empty store and slap a smile on your face.

you do your usual tasks of tidying the store and fixing the mannequins.

mr. styles, his team, and your boss (her name was diane but she was more like satan) were all working on sketching designs and throwing some fabrics onto the mannequins to get a rough idea of what they wanted.

“i don’t know if i like it,” mr. styles murmurs, staring at the mannequin. you glace over at it and have to force yourself to not make a face.

no shit, he didn’t like it. it was bad.

the sketch was good, but the color combination was all wrong and the whole thing was too.. chunky. in the way that everything was flowy and baggy, so it had no shape.

“well, what do you not like about it?” diane asks.

“i’m not sure. it doesn’t look quite right.”

“you have to fix the shape,” you say to yourself as you fix the files of custom orders to be done.

“what was that?”

your head snaps up, and you realize he heard you.

“oh. uh.. i was just—“

“talking to herself,” diane interrupts, glaring at you. “she’s an intern. don’t mind her.”

“no, i’d like to hear what she has to say. might have the answer to our issue. let’s hear it— what was your name again?”

“y/n l/n,” you squeak out.

“well, y/n, what do you think is wrong?”

you hesitantly walk over, “well.. i can see the idea. but it’s just not.. executed well. the whole thing is too flowy.”

“isn’t the point for it to flow?” he asks, raising a brow.”

“it is,” you answer quickly, “but.. there has to be something that isn’t as.. baggy, i suppose. something has to be tight-fitting. it doesn’t have any shape. it just kinda.. looks like a box.”

he stares at you for a moment, and diane clears her throat.

“y/n, this is time for the professionals. get back to—“

“no, diane. she is.. she’s right. it does need shape.”

at his words, the people around him begin to pin it differently.

“and the colors,” you rush out. “the colors don’t.. it’s supposed to be a statement piece, right?”

“that’s the goal,” he nods.

“well.. the colors are too.. light. they’re more pastel, which is fine, but for it to really be a statement, it’s better to use brighter ones. or at least make one of them brighter. i would.. i think make the base the brighter one.”

diane looks ready to kill you.

mr. styles laughs, “well, don’t you know a lot? diane, where did you find her? wish my interns knew half as much as her.”

your face grows hot.

“she’s a student,” diane sighs.

“a student?” he asks.

“i… uh.. i study fashion at nyu. fashion design— i’m in my last year.”

he seems to sense that you're damn near about to shit your pants, because he grins at you (slightly patronizing, but also kind), before turning back to diane.

"i'd like her to be with me for the rest of the project. y/n, darling, how much are y'makin' here?"

your stutter, "uh--... $15 an hour."

he tuts his tongue like that's horrible, "i'll pay.. ten times that while y'workin' with me."

your eyes widen, "wh-- that's not-- you don't have to--"

"nonsense. it's what most people i work with start with. i'll up it if needed, of course. and you obviously don't have to, but i'd love your insight."

"i-- no, i-- i'd love to, i.."

"great," he grins, and you're extremely dizzy. what the hell was going on?

"uh.. mr. styles, if i may give my opinion," diane pipes up.

"you may," he eyes her skeptically.

"y/n is a student. she's still learning, and she's never worked on anything here. it's very risky to--"

he cuts her off by asking you a question, "have you designed things? sketched 'em out and all that?"

you nod.

"i'd hope you've also done the whole... actually sewing things together and really making them?"

you nod again.

he turns back to diane, "seems like she's got experience," he looks back to you, "do y'have photos of any of those?"

"yeah-- they're.. i think i left them in my car. i have photos on my phone."

"we'll meet later to look at all that, then. i'll give you my number later. for now.. i'd like your input on our other ideas."

-

for the rest of the day, you follow harry around, and you sort of feel like a lost puppy just following him around and answering when he asks something of you.

after a while, you got more comfortable giving your input without being prompted, but you always tiptoed around what you were really trying to get at in fear that you'd anger him.

at the end of day, he put your number in his phone with the promise that he'd text you later about more details.

-

the text came three days later.

From: (Maybe): Harry

Hello, Y/N. This is Harry. Would you be free to meet tomorrow at noon to discuss the details of the project? Please bring your sketches and any photos of designs you've done, and anything else you feel necessary.

To: Harry Styles

Hi! I should be free tomorrow, yeah. Where do you want to go?

From: Harry Styles

I'll let you decide.

To: Harry Styles

There is this one coffee shop named Maman?

Sent Location: 239 Centre St, New York, NY

From: Harry Styles

Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a nice rest of your day.

To: Harry Styles

You too!

-

you spend the rest of your night fretting about what to wear. you were stuck in between classy but not too fancy, but also not too casual. comfy, but not so comfy that you looked like you didn't give a shit. but also not so uncomfortable that you were, well, uncomfortable, and looked like you were trying too hard.

you'd eventually settled for something simple. long, light-wash denim skirt, a plain black top, and some mary janes. you tied some of your hair back with a white ribbon, did some natural makeup, and called it a day.

you got to the coffee shop at 11:45 and ordered your drink, as well as a chocolate croissant.

harry walked in at exactly 12:00, and grinned when he saw you sitting at a table, scrolling on your phone with a manilla folder and sketchbook beside you.

-

really, you can't blame him! you were pretty, he'd have to be blind to not know that. and really, you weren't that much younger than him.

he's 29, and you're 23. he's not a stalker, he just did a background check like any good business person would do.

so what he finds you cute? the relationship would be strictly professional. besides, you deserved a break from your horrible boss. contrary to what diane thought, the walls were not soundproof, and he could hear her chewing you out.

sure, he'd done that to one of his employees once or twice, but it was always deserved, and never on the first time of being late. that was ridiculous.

"good morning, y/n," he greets. your head snaps up to make eye contact and he has to force himself to not laugh. he wasn't laughing at you, per se. it was more so the fact that he found it amusing how jumpy you seemed around him.

"good morning. did you order?"

"not yet. never been here, so i've got no clue what's good."

you open your mouth to respond, but the barista calls out, "large iced honey lavender latte with a pain au chocolat for y/n!"

you give a sheepish smile and run up to retrieve your food and drink. when you come back, you take a sip of your drink and set what looks to be a chocolate croissant down on the table.

"well, i'm more of an iced coffee girl. and i also don't really like the taste of coffee, so i've got a bunch of sugar in mine. what do you usually drink?"

"'m more of a black coffee, to be honest. iced is fine, but hot's better."

you wrinkle your nose, "i don't know how you stand the taste of coffee. it's so bitter."

"better than what you've got!" he laughs, "might as well just down a sugar packet."

you giggle at his teasing, "only psychos drink plain black coffee. this," you hold up your drink, "is so much better."

"oh, is it now?"

"yes, it is," you cross your arms proudly.

"lemme have a taste."

you hand over the drink, and he takes a small sip before coughing, "christ, y/n! that cannot be good for your health!"

"hey, i'm still alive, aren't i?" you shrug.

“that you are.”

“well… just ask for an americano, i guess. the rest of their drinks are kinda sugary and fun.”

he got his drink, and once the both of you were sat down, he got to business.

“so, how long have you been designing?”

“i’ve been doing it since middle school. i.. uh.. i saw that one american girl doll movie. where she was a designer. and i just got obsessed. obviously they weren’t good, but…”

“so you’ve got a lot of experience then?”

you nod. he grins.

“may i see the sketches?”

you grab the folder off the top of the sketchbook and pass it over to him.

he flips through it in silence for a few minutes, and you anxiously nibble at the skin around your fingernails.

“..so?” you ask.

“they’re great. really, you’ve got talent. i can’t draw for shit, so you’ve got me beat,” he laughs.

you laugh with him, “most of those are just ideas, i’ve never made them. but i have photos of the ones i have made. i printed them so it’s easier.”

you pass over the manilla folder, and he opens it to look at all the photos you’d printed out. there was around fifty— those were just the ones you actually liked and were confident showing.

he holds one up, and your cheeks flush. “why’s this the only one where you’re the model?” he asks.

“that was.. uh.. that’s my senior prom dress.”

his eyes widen, giving you an impressed look, “you made your own prom dress?”

you nod, “i just wanted something very specific, so.. i figured i’d just make it myself.”

“y’look great— the dress looks great,” he coughs. “you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” you blush.

“so tell me why someone as talented as you is working in diane’s shop not designing a single thing?”

“i didn’t realize that was the job. i just got excited when my professor told me they were interested in my work, so i took the job. i thought i’d at least do a little designing, but.. it pays.. decent, though.”

he scoffs, “darling, 15 bucks an hour is not decent pay. that’s what you make being a hostess. you’re an artist. someone would pay thousands of dollars for just your sketches.”

“i don’t think i’m that good—“

“you are,” he’s firm. resolute. there is no room for argument with him. “i think you’ll be a great asset to the project. i could use your… talent. i’ll send you an email with the nitty gritty details. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

and with that, he stands and leaves, leaving you to sit there, dumbfounded, confused, and grinning.

-

a/n: guys i have too many series going on 😭😭

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #designer!harry styles #designer!harry styles x reader #harry styles x designer!reader #harry styles x fem!reader

[thestoryofusstan]

new oneshot soon!!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #college au #college!harry

[thestoryofusstan]

💿💿🙏✨

Harry supports director!yn as she becomes the first woman to make a billion dollar movie for ‘Barbie’.

this is actually such a cute ask omg… also i got a bit carried away so she’s a bit long😭

—

you were dressed in a hot pink silk gown, with shoes equally as bright. you probably would have not worn something so.. eye-killing, if everybody else in your— harry’s, technically, but your name would be on the lease soon, house.

you were young for your field. twenty six— but still.. young. you’d made the biggest movie of the summer, and now.. ever. the barbie movie, starring margot robbie and ryan gosling. (and yes, you did shed a few tears before you met them. so what?)

when you found out through a very excited text from your mom that barbie was the first woman-directed movie to make a billion dollars, you broke down sobbing. harry, who was in bed next to you, held you and insisted you have a party to celebrate.

hence, house full of pink. most of them were cast members— you’d already chatted with margot for quite a while, but some of them were family and friends.

you could see harry’s sister, gemma, through the sea of people, but no harry.

an arm slowly comes to rest on your shoulder, and before you can panic, a familiar scent filters through your nose. harry’s perfume.

you turn to him with a grin, “hey, you. i was just lookin’ for you.”

he matches your expression, “i was puttin’ together some last minute things.”

you met harry before his live on tour show in london. you were on the way, and then your car broke down, and you sobbed on the side of the road until someone pulled up next to you and asked if you needed a lift. it was harry, and as mortified as you were, you still accepted and even met with him the next day.

you’d been dating for about five years, at this point.

“what things?”

“this,” he states, grabbing a champgne glass and a knife with a grin.

before you can question him, he clinks the knife and glass against each other until he has the whole rooms attention.

“as you all.. hopefully know, we are here to celebrate my amazing girlfriend, and the cast and crew, of making the first billion-dollar movie directed by a woman.”

you blush as everyone applauds.

“y/n, you are such a talented, amazing, gorgeous woman, and i cannot wait to see what other amazing films you make. i am incredibly lucky and thankful to call you my girlfriend. i could not think of anyone more deserving of this. i love you.”

you could nearly cry as he finishes his speech with a light peck on your lips.

“but as much as i love calling you my girlfriend..” he passes off the champagne and knife to someone as he lowers down. your jaw drops, already knowing what he’s doing. “i would love it even more if i could call you my wife.”

everyone in the room screams, gasps, and cheers. you cover your mouth with a hand as tears fill your waterline.

harry pulls out a velvet case and opens it, revealing a dainty diamond ring— he knew you hated over-the-top ones.

not trusting your words, you start nodding as the tears begin to spill.

“yeah?” he asks with a smile.

“yes! oh, my god! you’re fucking— yes!”

he stands up and pulls you into a kiss, and when he pulls away, he turns back to the room, “my fiancée is the first woman to make a billion dollar film!”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #director!yn #harry styles x director!reader

[thestoryofusstan]

100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL

send me any of the following and i will try to get to them!

💿 you’re so golden — send a concept for a fluffy harry blurb

🎥 you can let it go — send a concept for an angsty harry blurb

📺 you got the cinema — send me an idea for a fic and i’ll write it!

⌛️don’t you call him baby— send me a harry au you want me to write!

🕰️ you sunshine, you temptress — send me anything else you may want written!

#tays 100 follower celebration #i love yall #shedding literal tears #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry #harry fic #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb

[thestoryofusstan]

100 FOLLOWERS!!!! GUYS I MIGJT CRY😭😭😭

to celebrate expect the following soon(ish????)

SWEET CREATURE PT 2 (also 300+ notes on that is crazy, TWO NEW ONE SHOTS, and a special event that will be posted next!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry #harry fic #harry styles angst #harry styles au

[thestoryofusstan]

Sweet Creature

harry styles masterlist

pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader

summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.

warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.

—

harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?

his mother.

his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.

“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”

and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.

but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.

“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”

“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”

“she got an accent?”

“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”

“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”

“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”

“i’ll come visit soon.”

—

and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .

except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.

alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.

so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.

and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.

all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.

and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.

her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.

she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.

and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.

gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.

“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”

she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.

he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.

she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.

“you really are jumpy, huh?”

“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.

he almost laughs.

“it’s my room.”

and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.

“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“

the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.

“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“

“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”

“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“

“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”

“i feel bad.”

“well, don’t.”

he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.

“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“

“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”

“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“

“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.

“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.

“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”

anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.

who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.

“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”

he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.

—

the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.

she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.

once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.

when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.

“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.

he muttered something she didn’t understand.

“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”

“i noticed.”

he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.

“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”

“it’s yours. i’m fine.”

“are you—“

“i’m sure.”

rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!

—

harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.

he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.

his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.

“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”

“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”

“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”

“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”

“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”

—

a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry imagine #harry oneshot #harry fic #harry #styles #harry and belle #sweet creature series