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mustachrryluvr · 3 months

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Popping the question

Series link

A/n: I'm finally done with this one! It took me a while to find the right words for this.

It's been 2 weeks since Valentine's Day. 2 weeks since our first kiss. And for the past 2 weeks, we haven't stopped kissing each other.

I also made a big discovery. I'm in love with him. At this point, I don't remember a time when I wasn't. Every night, I fall asleep with him on my mind and wake up the same. I replay pieces of our conversations, laughing at funny things he said or did. I have every detail of his face memorized and the way he looks at mine.

I am every kind of in love with him. I am young and yelling and climbing out of the sunroof audaciously in love with him. I am laughter and peaches and dancing in kitchens brightly in love with him. I am quiet tears and warm baths, and wrapped up in his arms gently in love with him. I am train rides and letters and counting days faithfully in love with him. I am groceries and babies and paying a mortgage securely in love with him. I am conversations and bathrooms and lacing up his shoes for work familiarly in love with him. I am bedsheets and bruises and legs wrapped around waists resplendently in love with him. I am whispers and kisses and 'baby I'm not going anywhere' softly in love with him. I am stars and universes and writing golden poetry endlessly in love with him.

The only problem is that we're not moving forward. We've been seeing each other for almost 2 months, and he seems to show a lot of interest, but he's not making the next move.

It's so frustrating 'cause it feels like I don't know where I stand with him. What if he's still seeing other girls? Is that what I am then? One of the girls?

I've been avoiding him since yesterday 'cause I just couldn't stand it anymore. This whole situation is confusing. Ironically, I agreed to take a walk with his mom around the neighborhood.

"Jack has been so secretive. I'm sure he's seeing a girl." Maggie walks beside me, waving at people I've seen around a few times. "Every time I've called to check in, he cut the conversation short, saying that he's going out. He's never done this before. I guess it's serious if he is seeing someone."

I scratch my arm, smiling slightly. "Maybe. Another theory is that he could be writing new music."

"Not a damn! It's a girl. I know it." She sighs as we stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "I just wish he would tell me. I'm his mother. I should know about these things."

"He's probably just waiting for the right time to tell you." I shrug and continue walking.

"Clay tells me you and Jack have become great friends. Why don't you find out who's he's seeing?"

"Maggie, I really think it's up to him to tell you if he's seeing someone and who it is. Just give him time. He'll come clean." I link arms with her.

"You're way too nice. I thought gaining you as a daughter would mean we get to gossip." She lets out a long whine.

"Trust me. That is definitely included, but I don't think it's healthy to gossip about your sons' love lives."

"I just want to know what's going on in their lives, but since it's hard to figure out, tell me what's going on in yours? I've been seeing less of you as well." She sounds very suggestive. "Made new friends?"

"Kind of, yeah. I've become close with one of my colleagues, Caeser."

"Caeser? Have you two been going on dates?" She bumps my butt.

I immediately burst out in laughter, throwing my head back. "Caeser's gay. I don't do gay."

"Oh!" She starts to laugh as well.

As Maggie and I stroll closer to our houses, the familiar sights and sounds of the street surround us. The sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow on the houses.

I notice a familiar figure on my doorstep. It's Jack, and he looks sad. I didn't expect him to show up at my house, especially when I've been avoiding him. Maggie, who doesn't know about our relationship, is surprised to see Jack at your house instead of hers.

Ginger is also with him. She runs toward us as soon as she sees me. I immediately pick her up and hug her tightly.

As we approach Jack, I can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. Did he figure out why I've been so distant? Does he understand how much it means to me to have commitment? Will he understand my frustration?

Maggie, sensing the tension, looks at both of us with curiosity and concern. She may not know the full story, but she can sense that something is going on between Jack and I.

In this moment, standing face to face with Jack, I know it's time to address unspoken feelings and uncertainties. It's time to have an honest conversation and see where it leads.

"Jack! Funny seeing you here." Maggie glances between the two of us.

"Hey, Mom. I just came to talk to Logan about something." He puts his hands in his pockets, clearly stunned seeing his mother.

"I'll take Ginger then. Gives you a reason to come and visit your parents once in a while." She takes Ginger from me. "See you later. She walks across the street to her house.

Jack and I stand there in silence. Just staring at each other. It's as if we're both trying to read each other's minds.

"We should probably go talk inside." I dig in my back pocket for my keys.

"Yeah. Away from all the eyes." He stands out of the way so I can walk past him.

I take a deep breath, insert the key into the lock, and turn it, hearing the satisfying click as the door unlocks. With a hesitant push, I swing the door open and step inside, feeling a rush of emotions wash over me.

"Would you like something to drink?" I close the door, leaning against it after he's inside.

"No, thanks. I just really want to get something off my chest before it's too late." He walks around the living room, picking up random objects and observing them for a few seconds.

I head over to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. "There's actually something I've been wanting to talk to you about, too, but you can go first."

Jack's normally confident demeanor is replaced by unease. His eyes dart everywhere in the room, unable to meet mine for more than a darting moment.

"I've been wanting to ask you this a long time ago, but I never knew how to. There were loads of perfect chances to do it, but none of them were perfect enough." His eyes finally finds mine, even though it took him a little willpower. "You're the kind of girl you never see coming. It starts off simple, and then 2 months later, you're saying 'I love you'. I want to spend every night tucked up in the mystery that is your mind. I wanna wonder what you're thinking, what you want, or if I'm enough for you." He smiles brighter than he ever has before, making my put my glass down. "Some people you can read, but you're a novel written in another language. Love is never easily understood. Our love was unexpected, the kind you only read about. One second, I was flying on a plane, the next, we were falling in love. It gives me hope that the world is a good place. You give me hope that I am good. "

My heart races as Jack's words wash over me. A smile spreads across my face, feeling my own love for him grow even stronger.

"When you wrap your arms around me, I swear no one in the world has ever felt safer. When your fingers are intertwined with mine, I'm sure we can take on the world together. When I'm lying next to you, I feel magic, the kind you only find in a girl who finds humor in everything. When you kiss me, I sprout wings that take me to a place where it's just you and I. Sometimes, when you laugh, I swear it's the cure for any disease. You feel like home. No, it's better than that. You feel like where I belong, where I was always supposed to be. I wasn't looking for anyone, but you came along and made everything better. You're the kind of girl that's steals your heart and changes your life."

Every word he speaks resonates deep within my soul. I feel cherished, loved, and valued in a way I've never experienced before. His words create a sense of security and belonging, making me feel like I've found my true home. The way he describes our connection, the way he sees me, it's as if he's unlocked a whole new world of love and happiness for me. Tears well up in my eyes as I realize how lucky I am to have found someone who truly understands and appreciates her.

"I was literally fucked when you ignored my calls and texts like that. I thought something bad had happened to you. I'm stupid for almost letting you slip through my fingers. To be honest, I would've hated myself if I did. So, Logan, will you be my girlfriend?" His eyes are filled with nervousness and hope. They sparkle with anticipation, reflecting his genuine desire for a deeper connection between us. His gaze is intense yet tender, conveying his sincerity and vulnerability.

I wipe my tears and take a deep sniff. "I-I don't know what to say."

"Just say yes." He walks around the kitchen island, closer to me.

I turn around, gripping on the island just as he comes to stand in front of me. "Yes." My voice comes out more excited than I wanted it to sound.

He places his hands on both sides of mine, his brows furrowing in disbelief. "Are you sure? Do you really want this?"

"I thought you'd be jumping for joy the way you just made me cry." I lean back a little.

In a matter of seconds, he's kissing me like the world is rolling right off a cliff like he's trying to hold on and he's decided to hold on to me, like he's starving for life and love and he's never known it could ever feel so good to be close to someone. Like it's the first time he's ever felt anything but hunger and he doesn't know how to pace himself, doesn't know how to eat in small bites, doesn't know how to do anything in moderation.

His hands are around my waist, and he's breathing so hard. He hoists me up onto the counter, and my legs wrap around his waist.

I pull away, resting my forehead on his. "So, since we're dating now, what about pet names?"

"Do we really have to do that now?" He chuckles, rubbing circles on my lower back.

"We don't have to decide on any right now. I just wanted to know if it's acceptable." I run my fingers through his soft curls, twirling the ends.

"Anything that isn't common is acceptable." He pecks my lips.

"Okay. No 'baby' or 'babe'. Got it."

Jack picks me up in the position we're in and starts to walk off. Before I know it, we're out the door, walking across the street.

"Jack, what are you doing?" I look at him panicked.

"We're going to get Ginger, what else?"

"Your parents are going to freak out when they see us like this!" I try to pry his hands off me so I can get down.

He tightens his grip. "Then we're just going to have to tell them. They'll find out one way or another."

"Are you sure? We can wait."

We stop at Maggie and Brian's front door. He plants a soft kiss on my lips, reassuring me. "I'm sure."

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mustachrryluvr · 4 months

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Raindrops & romance

Series masterlist

A/n: I had such a busy day yesterday, so I didn't get the time to write anything. But here's the next part. I hope you're gonna love it as much as I do.

I'm standing in front of the door that splits Jack's apartment from the hallway. My heart becomes a victorious monster in my chest, thrashing to climb out. This is a date. My first date in a while. My first date with someone like Jack.

My palms start to sweat. I can't shake the nervous feeling that had been building since we made plans for this date. I want this night to be perfect, but there is also the possibility of disappointment.

As I raise my hand to knock, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I can feel the weight of anticipation building inside me as I wait for him to answer the door. What if he doesn't like the outfit I chose? What if we run out of things to talk about? What if I make a complete fool of myself?

Despite my fears, there's a surge of excitement at the thought of spending time with Jack.

As I hear the sound of footsteps approaching the door, my nerves reach a fever pitch. When Jack finally opens the door, I am met with a warm smile that instantly puts me at ease. Ginger is standing beside him, wagging her tail. In this moment, all of my worries melts away, and I get filled with a sense of relief and happiness.

There he is! Jack Harlow, wearing an apron. The sight is unexpectedly charming and endearing. I can't help but smile at the sight of him, wondering what culinary masterpiece he had been working on in the kitchen. The apron adds a touch of playfulness to his already magnetic presence, making him even more attractive.

"Hey! You're early." He swallows a lump. "I didn't think you'd be here for another 15 minutes."

I bend down to give Ginger a pat on the head, her tail wagging even more vigorously. "I thought I'd see what I could help with."

"Didn't I say that I'm cooking?" He makes way for me to come in. "That means you get to sit back and relax."

"I'll be helping you clean, though." I take my coat off with Jack's help. He hangs it up for me. "Thanks."

"You look great!" He exclamates as I turn around, giving me a side hug.

I smile, looking down at my outfit, straightening the fabric of my dress.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'm gonna check on the food." He runs off with me slowly walking behind.

As I walk around Jack's bachelor pad, I can't help but be captivated by the unique charm of his space. The walls are adorned with vibrant artwork, each piece telling its own story. The furniture has a modern yet cozy feel, with plush cushions and stylish accents. I notice a collection of vinyl records neatly displayed on a shelf, a testament to Jack's love for music. The room is filled with an inviting warmth, creating an ambiance that made me feel right at home.

While Jack is working his culinary magic in the kitchen, the delicious aroma wafts through the air, teasing my senses. I admire the sleek stainless steel appliances, evidence of his culinary prowess. The countertops are immaculate, with neatly arranged ingredients and utensils, showcasing his attention to detail.

As I explored further, I discovered little touches that reflects Jack's personality. A shelf filled with books, revealing his intellectual curiosity and love for reading. A guitar resting against the wall, hinting at his musical talents. It's clear that Jack had created a space that is not only stylish but also a reflection of his passions and interests.

The table Jack decorated for our date is absolutely stunning! He had put so much thought and effort into creating a romantic and inviting atmosphere. The centerpiece is a beautiful arrangement of fresh flowers, nearly resemblancing the ones him and Clay got me the day we met, their vibrant colors adding a touch of elegance to the table. Soft candlelight flickers, casting a warm glow that makes the whole setting feel cozy and intimate. The table is set with delicate china and sparkling glassware, making it clear that Jack had a keen eye for detail. It's as if he had transformed his bachelor pad into a magical dining experience just for the two of us.

With each step, I feel a growing connection to Jack, as if his space is an extension of his vibrant personality. It's a joy to witness him in his element, putting together a meal with skill and confidence.

As I make my way back to the kitchen, my admiration for Jack only deepens. I'm excited to sit down at the table, surrounded by the ambiance of his bachelor pad, and savor the delicious meal he had prepared with such care and attention.

I place my hands on the countertop, watching him intently as he sways across the kitchen, "You really put effort into this."

"I wanted to impress you." His cheeks turn a light shade of red. "And besides, you deserve it after the long week you had to resist at work. How was it, by the way? You didn't text me much about it."

"It was a hell of an adjustment. And scary, too." I sit down on one of the bar stools. "Like, this time I can't screw anything up. I can't make mistakes. A real-life company is depending on me for their financial situation."

"But you're doing great so far, right?" He takes the pot off the stove and places it on the wooden board in front of me.

"I haven't been called in for any bad work or received any warnings. I think I'm doing alright." I watch as he places a different pot on the same wooden board. "Should I get something to drink while you take those out?"

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks. I'll wait for you." He takes the food out to the beautifully decorated table.

I walk over to Jack's fridge and open it up, searching for something refreshing to drink. Among the array of options, I spot a bottle of freshly squeezed juice. I grab it, feeling the coolness of the glass against my hand, and make my way to the dining room where Jack is waiting for me.

"No wine?" He furrows his brows, but his face quickly shifts in realization. "Shit! I forgot to buy some for you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I think it's going that I'm going non-alcoholic with you. You're a good influence on me." I give him a playful wink.

With a suave and confident demeanor, Jack smoothly pulls out the chair for me. It's like something straight out of a romantic movie! He holds the chair steady, ensuring it's in the perfect position for me to sit comfortably. The small act makes me feel like a queen, like he is truly invested in making our dinner together a special occasion.

After gracefully pulling out the chair for me, Jack quickly moves to take his own seat. He tops both our glasses with juice, the freshness hitting my nostrils.

"I squeezed it this morning. It's pomegranate."

Jack dishes up the meal for both of us. I simply just sit and watch with hunger.

"Beef and broccoli stew." He states proudly. "I hope you like it."

Jack and I engage in lively conversation, our words flowing effortlessly between bites of the delicious food. The atmosphere is cozy and intimate, with the soft lighting casting a warm glow over our faces. We savor each bite, delighting in the flavors and textures of the meal.

The beef is so tender and juicy, cooked to perfection. And the broccoli adds a nice pop of green and a satisfying crunch to the dish. The stew itself has a rich and flavorful sauce that coats the beef and veggies, making every spoonful a burst of deliciousness. And of course, he made sure to scoop a hearty helping of fluffy rice on the side, creating the perfect balance of flavors.

"Would you like to move in with me?" I ask as I pop the last piece of broccoli in my mouth.

"Woah! It's only the first date. No need for such big steps yet." He chuckles and takes the dirty dishes back to the kitchen.

"But you can cook! Who wouldn't want to come home to this?" I slump behind him with the pots. "I can't believe girls run away from you."

"They run away 'cause I don't let them in." Grabbing the empty pots, he loads the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

We venture out of the apartment for the next part of the date. The city lights twinkles in the distance as we make our way through the bustling streets. The moon cast a soft glow, illuminating our path as we walk, with me holding onto his arm. The park is bathed in a serene darkness, with only the dim glow of lampposts guiding our way. The air is cool, adding a sense of tranquility to our surroundings. They walk along the winding pathways, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. There's a tiny food truck ahead so we stop to by some hot drinks. We pause at a quiet spot, sitting down on a park bench, and look up at the night sky.

"Tonight was great." I grip onto the cup tightly. "Thank you for making it so special."

"The pleasure is mine." Jack looks at me for a few seconds, smiling. "I enjoyed your company."

"Does that mean we're doing this again?" I look at him hopefully.

"Definitely." He pauses, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm not missing spending time with you."

My face is practically burning at this moment, and my stomach is swirling with butterflies, "Jack, I feel the same way."

Our eyes meet, and in this moment, a spark ignites between Jack and I. We share a glance filled with warmth and affection. It's as if time stands still for a brief second, and there's a magnetic pull drawing us closer to each other. In each other's gaze, there is excitement and potential of what our time together could become. It's a silent understanding, a silent promise that we are both fully invested in this budding connection.

We snuggle close together. The air is crisp, and our breaths are visible as we engage in deep conversation, our words floating in the night air like puffs of steam. The park is quiet, only the distant sound of laughter and people talking audible. We share stories, dreams, and aspirations. Our laughter mingles with the sound of the rustling leaves that are still on the trees.

As we engage in heartfelt conversation, the sky above us begins to darken, and the first few raindrops fall. We exchange amused glances and quickly scramble to find shelter, laughing as we navigate our way through the raindrops. I can feel the dampness seeping through my clothes, but the thrill of the moment overweighs any discomfort.

Just as we find a small overhang to take cover under, Jack grabs my hand, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Wait up, Logan," he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Let's not hide from the rain."

I raise my eyebrows, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Seriously?" I ask, my voice clearly filled with hesitation.

Jack's enthusiasm is infectious, and he pulls me closer, our hands still intertwined. "Absolutely! Come on! It'll be fun. I promise. The worst that could happen is that you get a cold afterward."

Taking a deep breath, I feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I look into Jack's eyes, seeing the genuine joy and adventure in his gaze. With a smile, I nod, my heart pounding. "Alright, let's do it!"

We step out from under the overhang, our laughter blending with the sound of raindrops hitting the ground. I can feel the cool rain on my face, the droplets creating a symphony of sensations. Jack twirls me around, our movements fluid and carefree, as if we're the only two people in the world. In this moment, all worries and doubts fade away, replaced by the exhilaration and freedom of dancing in the rain with someone I'm starting to care about.

"Who knew dancing in the rain could be so fun?" Jack exclaims.

I chuckle, my heart racing. "I guess Mother Nature decided to be our DJ tonight," I reply, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Jack twirls me around, his hand firmly holding mine. "Well, she's got great taste in music," he says, flashing me a charismatic smile.

We move together, our bodies swaying and our laughter contagious. The raindrops fall around us, creating a shimmering curtain of liquid diamonds. It's as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of us in this enchanting moment.

"You've got some killer dance moves!" Jack teases, his eyes sparkling with delight.

I playfully nudge him. "Oh please, Jack, you're the one stealing the show with those smooth moves of yours," I retort, a playful grin spreading across my face.

We dance on, our steps becoming more daring and our laughter growing louder. The rain washes away any inhibitions, leaving us free to be ourselves, unapologetically.

"Logan, I've got to say, this is the most unique date I've ever been on," Jack confesses, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

I lean in closer, the raindrops mingling with the smile on my lips. "I knew from the start that everything between us would be surprising," I whisper, my heart swelling with affection.

As the rain continues to shower us with its blessings, we dance on, creating memories that would forever be etched in our hearts. I know that dancing in the rain with Jack is more than just a date. It's a celebration.

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mustachrryluvr · 4 months

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😪😪😪😪

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mustachrryluvr · 5 months

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this is for a really specific reason right now but reblog if you love and care about your mutuals so so much and want to hug them tight and tuck them into bed

can't find a post like this so I made it myself

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mustachrryluvr · 7 months

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hayday, braids, and chocolate - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent as fuck. wrote this a couple of hours ago…hope u enjoy as always 😘

wc: 1.1k (shes a shorty!)

cw: fluff. name calling i guess? in a joking and loving way <3, one suggestive sentence ig

summary: sundays with harry <3

A movie was playing softly in the background, Harry and Y/N talking about god knows what as he laid on his back, head resting on the armrest of the couch. Laying on her tummy against his chest, her chin was propped up on the back of her hands as her palms rested on his shirtless chest, neck craned to look at him as they spoke.

About anything, really.

“No, I honestly have t’say tha’ I disagree with you, lovie,” He looked to the ceiling in thought. “How could you possibly even bend that way? I know for a fact that y’aren’t flexible, there’s jus’ no way y’can prop up y’legs behind y’head.”

“Harry, do you actually think that all our millionaire friends stay at every house they own?”

“I actually haven’t thought about tha’, and I have a scary feelin’ that y’might be right. What d’they even put in these things? Like… what is a gusher?”

Or the occasional switch in position, Harry still on his back and Y/N now on hers with her back to his chest. Most likely for a phone break— or, more like Y/N getting stuck on TikTok and forcing Harry to watch with her.

“Jesus Christ, how much red 40 are in those fucking pickles?”

“Holy shit, tha’ dog is so fat.”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

“Yeah, lovie. Tha’s a guinea pig wearing a cowboy hat. With m’initials on it.”

Or… just them sitting in silence. For the most part.

“Harry…” YN sighed, clicking at her phone. Her legs were slung over Harry’s thighs, her back resting against the arm of the couch. They’d switched positions a couple of hours ago, now sitting in complete silence as they became iPad kids and tapped away on their respective devices.

“Yeah, m’love?” Harry said, setting his crops into the dirt before looking at her, his head turned and tilted slightly like a puppy.

“D’you have any corn or wheat?” She asked, needing to plant some on her HayDay farm. She knew he would know what she was talking about, seeing as HayDay had been their new obsession as of recent.

“Were you staring at my phone or summat?” He gasped with a bewildered look.

“...No?” She questioned. She laughed when he turned his phone screen to face her, HayDay opened on his phone as well. Turning his phone back to face him, a few beats passed with them sitting in silence, their noses both stuck in their phones.

“So… do you?”

“Yep, just put them on m’market.”

“And that, is why I love you.”

—

“Ow! Tha’ fuckin’ hurt, babe.” Harry groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s fingers from his hair.

“Oh suck it up, you big baby. You asked me to massage your scalp, you can’t get mad at me since I’m literally doing what you asked.” She grumbled, slapping Harry’s hand away and moving hers back up to his curls, twisting little strands around her pointer fingers.

“I-“ He started.

“Say something, brat. I dare you.” She said, grabbing his chin to tilt his head back.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered, moving his head back to its original position on her chest. “Thank you, baby.”

“Whatever. You’re still a brat,” She kissed his temple three times, craning her neck a bit more to kiss his lips with his assistance of craning his to meet her lips as well. “But, I love you.”

“I love you. Love of m’life, m’muse, m’soulmate,” He placed soft kisses on her lips with every other word, kissing her deeply with his last. They sat in silence for a little, soft breathing and the occasional beep from his phone sounding the room, until Harry broke the silence.

“Lovie?”

“Hm?”

“Can y’braid m’hair?”

“Are you gonna complain if I pull too hard?

“No, but I’ll probably get hard.”

A pause. “Y’know what? I’ll take it. Get me a hair tie then sit on the floor.”

—

“H, come here.” Y/N groaned.

“No.” Harry said, arms crossed as he turned his back to her.

“You’re such a fucking diva,” She said, kicking at the bottom of his back with a socked foot, trying to garner his attention. “Don’t know how I put up with you.”

“Oh, ‘M the diva? Y’just chewed m’out ‘cause I accidentally ate the last bit of your chocolate, even though y’told me last night that y’still had some left!” He whined, back still turned to his girlfriend.

“Oh my God. Are you serious? I said I had some in my desk at work, not at home, you fucking twat.” She said exasperatedly, still poking her toes into his back.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed her socked feet and held them tightly, making her whine and complain about the constriction. “Let my feet go!”

“No. Not until y’apologize.” He said matter of factly, turning the slightest bit so he could hold her feet in his lap, face not facing her, but instead watching the movie that was now on mute on the TV.

“Do I have to?” She asked, voice low.

“D’you want y’feet back?” He gave her the same tone of voice, not paying her any mind.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, scooching forward as much as she could to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you for eating my chocolate.”

“Hmm, and?” He hummed, moving to rub small circles into the soles of the fuzzy fabric covered skin.

“And ‘M sorry that I wasn’t more specific. Forgive me? I love you.” She whispered, moving to rest the plush of her cheek onto his shirtless shoulder, her lips brushing against the skin when she spoke.

Sighing, he fully turned to her and raised an eyebrow, letting her feet go and placing a soft kiss onto her forehead. “Of course I forgive you, sweet girl. I’d forgive y’a million times over. I’ll buy y’new chocolate, baby. Jus’ love when y’get all soft w’me. S’ like, m’favorite thing ever. Besides you, I guess.”

He was cut off by a yelp when she used their closeness to her advantage and took a bite out of her shoulder.

“Y’fucking bitch.”

“Twat.”

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mustachrryluvr · 8 months

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18😘

YESSS we love it. here's a shorty

Prompt list for these requests

Patreon

----

"Excuse me." A sleep soaked voice rang out in the still morning.

It was a bit early, the sun just having risen and started to light up the sky in that deep but haze. She had a bit of trouble sleeping after having woken up to use the bathroom, the unfortunate habit of having any bit of disturbance of sleep making it nearly impossible to fall back asleep.

Her boyfriend was sleeping soundly when she had returned, so she decided to move closer to the edge so her phone light didn't distract her. She was browsing Pinterest, using her lack of sleep to pin things to her board for their new home which they were still in search for. They'd outgrown the apartment.

"What?" She laughed, feeling his feet move near hers and hissing at the cold.

"Christ, you're freezing!" He grumbled, eyes bleary as he took in her back and the illumination only her phone could make. "And it's way too fuckin' early to be doing anything. The bed time is sacred." He complained with a bit of snark, arms wrapping around her frame and yanking her over to his side of the bed.

Y/N yelped, the sudden movement making her phone drop on the carpet as she was wrapped up in his arms like a snake crushing its meal. His arms had gotten particularly beefy lately, and it showed in the grip as she was met with a face in her neck. His body always did form perfectly right against her own, his arm definitely falling asleep after a while of being under her body but he never dared to complain. If he could sleep inside of her skin, he probably would. Sleep time was valuable to him in the sense that she had no excuses to be away from him!

"Cruel, cruel little thing. Taking away my allotted time with you, coming back to bed and letting that phone take away attention that could be spent on me." Hot fingers slipped under her tank top, splaying over her stomach as he practically glued himself to her. She was locked in his hold, making her laugh as she closed her eyes. He wasn't done complaining yet, though. "Could have been like those vampire shows you like and stared at my beauty whilst I slept. Wasted opportunity." That had her sputtering out more giggles, shaking her head as she felt teeth nip her neck. "Oi! What was that for?" His playful mood was contagious. "Are you trying to be my own vampire now? Wanted me to creep on you and now you've turned the tables."

"All's fair in love and creepy vampire moves. or something like that."

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mustachrryluvr · 8 months

Note

could u please do where the reader falls asleep on his lap and harry finds it adorable and takes a picture of her and doesnt move so she doesnt wake up but when she finally does harry kisses her and says how beautiful she is and shows her the picture he put as a new lockscreen :D

~Personal pillow~

Awweeee this concept❤️ thank you so much! Sorry this has taken a while a lot has been going on lately, thank for all of your patience🫶🏼

— — — — — —— — —— — —— — —— — —— — ——

It had been a long week, one of them weeks were waking up was hard enough, one of them weeks were working days were long and hard, Friday was a godsend.

Harry leaned back on there shared sofa, his legs outstretched on the ottoman adjacent to him, his eyes glued to the Tv mounted on the wall, which was showing some 90s romcom.

It was a Friday evening, y/n’s return from work was nearing, Friday evening was the one of the couple’s favourite evenings, an evening full of cuddles, takeout, and a random show which they’d end up binging the whole weekend.

Knowing y/n has had a crappy week, he made sure her favourite candles were lit, there shared home was tidy and her favourite drinks and snacks were stocked in the fridge. He was thoughtful like that.

It was nearing 6pm and there was 0 sign of his loves return, Harry normally understood the girl had to work late sometimes, but it never stopped him from thoughts circling his mind, he reaches for his phone checking the notifications and still nothing, just as he clicks to his messages, he hears the familiar keys enter the lock.

Even after a long day at work she still managed to look like the prettiest girl to walk the Earth. She walked in bag on shoulder eyes sleepy and hair slightly frizzy but she still managed to glow.

“Y alright darling?” He calmly asked, forgetting his phone to the side.

“Mmhmm” she hummed, toeing off her shoes and hanging her jacket and bag up and remembering to toss her keys in the bowl so she didn’t forget them.

Harry could read y/n and vice versa, Harry knew that sometimes y/n could be just be quiet that never meant she was mad or upset, sometimes she just enjoyed listening over speaking and that was okay.

“Tea love?” He offered.

“Please H” she faintly smiled.

Harry was quick to his feet, before he got to the kitchen he pressed a sweet kiss to the girls rosey lips to which she happily fell in.

“Go get comfy, n I’ll sort dinner” he hummed in-between pecks.

Y/n got upstairs and stripped out of her work clothes and comfortably changed into Harry’s green packers hoodie which was a perfect oversized fit, and her white pyjama shorts, before moving she took a moment to take in the scent of the hoodie which still smelled like her lover. Home. Is all she could think about.

The smell of brewed tea and fresh linen candles practically lulled her dow the stairs.

She saw Harry back in his original position on the sofa, she didn’t hesitate to curl up next to him with the warm mug of tea.

“Thank you for this bubs” she mewled leaning her head on his arm by his side.

“N’worries love” he contently sighed at the feel of her touch and presence.

“Anything in particular y’want for dinner?” He asked pulling up his phone with his free hand.

“Usual” she softly hummed.

“N’problem lovie”

Once they have had dinner, and cleared up y/n’s energy levels had really ran low.

Without another word, y/n adjusted her position and laid her head on his lap, her legs were a perfect fit on the rest of the sofa allowing her a great deal of space.

Harry didn’t question or query he accommodated her and her comfort.

His left hand instinctively went to her hair and softly played with and combed through her locks.

His eyes glanced down at her to check she was okay.

“Y’okay angel? Haven’t heard much from ya tonight” he gently asked leaning his head down pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Mmhmm, just sleepy, s’been a long week” she softly smiled using her right arm to caress his cheek.

“Y’can relax now sweet girl” he whispered.

His eyes go back to the Tv screen in-front of them within 15 minutes of time passing and Harry’s fingers running through her hair it wasn’t long until the girl was killed into a slumber.

Soft snores and sighs were occasionally heard from the girl on his lap.

His heart couldn’t help but melt, he now felt obliged to stay still and let the girl rest peacefully.

Seeing her so vulnerable and so peaceful made something click into him, yes they shared a bed every night and had seen each other sleep a million times, but there was something about his girl using him as a pillow which just made his heart burst.

He was in awe.

Luckily his phone was in arms reach, ‘Lock Screen opportunity’ he thought to himself, he opened the camera app on his phone and happily took a few photos of the girl.

“As if I couldn’t love you anymore” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose.

A few moments of f pure bliss passed until a faint noise appeared from the sleep girl.

Her eyes began to flutter open.

“Y’wanna get into bed?” He softly asked, hovering above her rosey lips.

“Mmhmm” she sleepily hummed.

“Can y’stay with me though” she quietly asked.

“Of course I will lovie” he answered

“Carry me please?” She pleaded, the idea of having to move annoyed her at that moment.

“Whatever y’say darlin” he smirks.

He gently moves out of y/n’s touch and gently placed her head back on the sofa replacing his lap which earns a small whine from his girl.

One forearm goes under the girls knees as the other under her shoulders using his shoulder to support her head on.

She hums in contentness, the feeling of him just being there.

He presses a kiss on the top of her head before carefully plopping her down on her side of the bed and covering her with there shared duvet.

As H places his phone into the charging lead his phone screen flashes a new image that is his lock screen.

“Baby, lemme see y’phone again” she softly laughs.

Catching on to what she was saying, “oh this” he faintly chuckles showing her the screens background.

The image shows the girls face peacefully sleeping on his lap, her eyelashes almost touching her cheek, her lips rosey and almost in a pout, her cheeks a perfect blush colour with no single indent. Even in these moments she was just beautiful.

“Harryyyyyyy” she playfully dragged, blushing once again.

“Y’look so perfect on m’lap like tha” he replied, placing his free arm over the sleepy girls shoulder.

“Mmm, I love you” he mumbled into her cheek before pressing a sweet kiss there.

“I love you too, even if take pictures of my most vulnerable moments” she smiled into his touch.

— — — — — —— — —— — —— — —— — —— — —

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mustachrryluvr · 8 months

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mustachrryluvr · 8 months

Text

Yellow*

Summary: An extra for One for the Money*

The one where you have to use your safeword with Mr. Styles and you worry it'll ruin everything.

Word Count: 3.4k

(TW: Panic attack and mentions of panic attacks)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Just like that…shit, just like that, Peach. So fucking good. Can feel you, honey. Fucking feel you—”

Mr. Styles’ hand intertwines with yours before he brings them both to your stomach. Pressing your palm taut to the flesh until you can feel the subtle bulge from his cock. Thrusting into you so deep, your eyes roll all the way back into your head.

He’s been at it for hours. Showing off for the camera, allowing them to see him at his most powerful. And you at your most vulnerable.

You’re used to it by now. More than used to it, and on any given day, you thrive off it. You indulge in his prowess, his intentions. More than willing to be flaunted in front of the large audience of onlookers as he takes you anyway he wants you.

So you’re not sure why today feels different. Why the weight on your chest is heavier than it usually is. Why his hands – while always kind, always comforting – feel like tools in a game of your misery.

You don’t want to stop him. Don’t want to scare him or upset him. You know the moment you utter the words, the dynamic will shift instantaneously. And perhaps that’s what you want, but the repercussions might be more than you’re prepared to handle.

Yet the thought doesn’t leave you as he lowers his fingers toward your clit to pinch and tweak your next orgasm out of you. But you’re already far too sensitive, far too gone in the stimulation and the pain to enjoy it.

Instead, you try to focus on the little red light that blinks from the camera, try to imagine how pleased the audience will be to see this. How all of this will be worth it. It has to be worth it.

“Feels good, honey, doesn’t it?” he groans, now pushing your knee into your chest until you’re whimpering. “My pretty pussy takes me so well, doesn’t she? Let’s me fuck her exactly the way I want. Till she’s fucking crying.”

You nod weakly and the sight of your wet eyes makes his cock twitch as he drives himself in at a quicker pace.

And suddenly, you can’t breathe. Can’t slow the racing of your pulse or ignore the ringing in your ears. It’s everywhere, this pain. Your vision of him has gone blurry and your poor pussy feels swollen and abused.

But you tell yourself it’ll be fine. That you just need to catch your breath. You just need a second, and it’ll be okay.

Because you don’t want to say it. You’ve never had to say it before, and you don’t exactly want to start now. And you aren’t sure why, you know he’d be more than understanding. But this is silly, you feel silly. Because you’re fine. You just need a second. And it'll pass.

It will pass.

But it doesn’t pass, and you don’t feel in control of your own body anymore. Which is normally the point, but not today. Today you need to feel grounded, to feel some semblance of power over the anguish. And he’s so good, and so kind, and you can’t say it. You can’t do this to him, can’t do this to yourself, and if you can just catch your breath, it’ll be okay.

Because he feels good, he really does. And you’re making him feel good, and you don’t want to take that from him. Because then he won’t get to cum, and he’ll be upset, and he’ll never treat you the same. He’ll always remember that you were too weak to take it.

So you’ll take it, you will. You’ll be his good girl, his good little slut, and you’ll make him proud.

You will.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you repeat this mantra. As you command yourself to like the pain. Because you do. You have to. You can’t say it. You can’t, so you won’t, and you won’t do this, and you won’t ruin it, and it’s fine, and everything is fine—

“Wait,” you whisper, hands tugging on the sweaty curls at your disposal. Hard enough to capture his attention. “Wait, hold on, hold…yellow.”

Just like that…it all stops. He stills, instantly. No more thrusts into your cunt, no more pinching or pulling on your clit, no more kisses to your neck. It all stops in the blink of an eye, and you hear him inhale a quick breath as his body freezes above yours.

Seconds pass. Quiet and filled with a charged, tense energy that’s so eerie, you can almost hear your heart thumping in your chest.

Then, he murmurs, “Okay. Okay, m’waiting.”

Your lashes flutter shut as a wince stretches across your expression. He doesn’t sound upset, but maybe he is. And you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, can sense how hard he’s trying to hold himself back, how difficult this must be for him to stop like this.

And you realize now that you’ve ruined it, and he’s gonna be pissed, and he’s going to end things, and he’s never gonna fuck you again—

“Peach,” he says softly, face still nuzzled against your shoulder. “Talk to me, what do you need? What would you like me to do?”

You don’t trust your voice. Can feel the influx of tears racing up the back of your throat as you squeeze his hair harder and shake your head.

But this isn’t an answer he accepts, his fingers gently tugging on your waist. “Peach, I need to hear you. I need to know what to do—”

“Nothing,” you exhale, the words getting lost in his cheek as you hold on for dear life. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just need one second. One second and you can go, okay? I promise, I’m sorry—”

“Peach.” It’s not angry but it’s fervent. Determined. “Don’t…shit. Don’t you dare fucking apologize right now, just tell me…tell me what you want me to do. Do you want me to pull out? Or do you want me to stay still?”

And you want to answer, but you can’t. Because there’s too much happening in your head right now. In your heart. It’s going faster than you think it ever has, and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, and you want to cry—God, you want to cry. Can already feel the tears slipping down your face, fast and without mercy.

Because he’s so good, and so wonderful, and so kind, and you don’t deserve him. Especially after making him stop, and why did you make him stop, why did you do this, why can’t you just get over it—

“Hey, hey.” His head lifts, eyes finding yours as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. As delicately as he can without startling you. “Okay, it’s all right. You’re okay, Peach.”

His lips press to the tears on your skin. Gently and with great compassion. Which, in turn, only makes you cry that much harder.

“You’re okay,” he whispers between slow kisses to your cheek. “Deep breath, my love. You’re all right, I’ve got you, yeah? M’right here. Won’t let you go until you want me to.”

You melt into the mattress as he continues holding you to the best of his ability. As he attempts to comfort you without causing you any more pain.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what you need. What your body needs,” he repeats after a moment, nose faintly brushing against yours. “Do you want me to pull out or do you want me to stay still?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure what you want. It doesn’t sting the way it did before, but you’re worried if he moves, the pain will return tenfold.

And the thought of him taking himself from you makes your chest ache.

“I don’t know,” you whimper, attempting to hide yourself in his neck. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m trying—”

“Hey.” The stern voice returns as his palm tightens against your chin and pulls your focus to him. “What did I just say, hm? I don’t want to hear one more apology out of this pretty mouth. Is that understood?”

Your bottom lip quivers. “…I’m sorry.”

With a gentle but slightly amused sigh, he says, “Peach—”

“I am,” you insist, nails curling into the back of his neck. “I don’t know why I made you stop, I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I think I just got scared or something—”

“Scared?” His demeanor shifts on a dime, brows furrowing, and expression quickly growing distressed. “Scared how? What did I do? What can I do?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, gasping slightly at the implication. “Nothing, no. You didn’t…that’s not what I…fuck.”

“Okay, easy, Peach,” he mumbles, sweeping his thumb along your bottom lip soothingly. Waiting until you calm. And he studies you for quite some time, as though looking for the answer written somewhere on your face. “It was a lot, yeah? I pushed too hard.”

“No,” you try again, but his look of disapproval makes you wilt. “I mean…it was a lot, yes, but you didn’t…normally, it’s perfect. It’s never too hard or too much. You didn’t do this, I think I just…my mind wasn’t here. Maybe.”

He nods once. Contemplates this. “I should have checked in with you more frequently. Especially with the camera on—”

“No,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap his shoulder. “Stop putting this on yourself, it’s making me sad.”

“And your apologies make me sad,” he counters. “But that’s the point of the safeword, isn’t it? The system we have in place? It’s nobody’s fault. It’s about communication. About trust, about safety.”

You swallow thickly and settle into the calming safe of his eyes.

His finger continues to trace the outline of your mouth, almost as if in an attempt to collect himself. “Do you trust me, Peach?”

Your stomach sinks. “Of course.”

“Do you feel safe with me?”

“Yes.” You leave a kiss to his thumb. “Always, Sir. I promise.”

He begins to frown. “No, I don’t want you to call me that right now. I want you to call me Harry.”

And this shift – this instruction is what you were afraid of. Lashes fluttering as you whisper, “It’s…it’s okay. You can still be Sir, I promise—”

“No, I don’t want to be your dominant right now,” he corrects firmly. “I don’t want to be your Sir. Or your boss or your investor. I want to be your partner. Your equal. I want to be you and me. Us.”

And you know he means it. Can sense the truth of it behind his assertion and it feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to take all day.

“Okay,” you agree, taking hold of his wrist to keep his hand close to your face. “Okay, we’ll be us.”

He seems relieved, dipping down to kiss the center of your forehead before asking, “Now…tell me what you want. Do you want me to pull out or keep still? What does your body need right now?”

You take a moment to find the right answer. “I don’t…honestly, I don’t know. I’m okay right now. Doesn’t…doesn’t hurt as much. You can…you can keep going if you want.”

“It’s not about what I want,” he reminds you. “It’s about what you want. What you need. If you want me to stay, I will. If you want me to go, I will.”

“I…I don’t want you to go. Really, I didn’t mean to make us stop, I swear—”

“We’re not stopping yet,” he interrupts. “Not until you say red. Right now, we’re just taking a break. Reassessing what you need. Okay?”

You nod weakly. “Okay.”

“Good.” He presses his palm to your cheek. “Do you want to say red? Do you want to stop?”

Again, you deliberate this. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

The frown returns. “I need you to do more than think, Peach. I need you to be sure.”

“I am,” you rush to clarify, shifting a bit beneath him as you squeeze his arm and fight against a pained wince. “I am, I promise. I just…I don’t know what happened. It just…there was a lot happening all of a sudden, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe or…or understand why I felt so off.”

A certain sadness finds him again as he nods and presses a couple more kisses to your temple. “I think you had a panic attack, my love.”

It’s an odd thought. One you aren’t quite familiar with, as panic attacks aren’t that common for you. In fact, you don’t believe you’ve ever had one before. At least not that you were aware of.

“Oh…” The words feel empty in your head. Weightless, with no meaning to grasp onto. “I…why?”

The corner of his mouth curls up, and the delicate smile makes your heart soar. “I don’t know. Sometimes we can’t find the cause, it just…happens.”

You blink up at him. “You’ve had a panic attack before?”

“I have,” he says calmly, and it surprises you more than it should. “I get them occasionally. Not as much anymore, though. With you.”

And this admission feels like something you can’t explain. Another piece to the Harry Styles puzzle you get to add to. Letting you see his big picture.

“I didn’t know that,” you whisper, and he shrugs.

“I never told you.” Another kiss to your forehead. “But I know how disorienting they can be, and I think it’s best we take a longer break before we continue.”

You feel your expression fall as he gently begins to move. “No, I…I don’t want to stop, I’m fine. You can…you can go—”

However, when he suddenly shifts his hips, it forces you to suck in a sharp, pained breath. Making it clear that continuing is no longer an option.

And for some reason, it feels like a punch to the gut. Knocking the wind from your lungs until that heaviness returns to your chest.

He really is going to stop. He’s going to take his body from you, and his weight, and his heat, and his cock. And the scene will be over, and maybe you won’t start again. Maybe he won’t be in the mood, or he’ll jerk one out in the shower without you, or he’ll look at you differently.

And you hate that thought more than anything in the world.

“No,” you practically whimper, grabbing onto his hips to keep him still. “No, we don’t have to stop, I’m fine. Really, it was just…it was nothing. Please, Harry.”

His thumb quickly returns to your face, brushing just below your eye to help dry the fresh set of tears on your warm, stained cheeks.

And he looks so very wounded. “Peach…this isn’t a punishment. There’s a reason we use the traffic light system, and it’s for moments like this. To keep things safe—”

“But I am safe,” you argue, the sound of your plea timid and riddled with distress. “And I’m fine now, really. You can go, we can finish. I want you to finish—”

“Peach,” he says again, but it’s a bit more resolute. “This isn’t about me finishing. It will never be about me finishing, all right? We can always resume the scene later if you’d like, but right now…I want to hold you. I want to help you feel steady again.”

And it’s the most perfect thought in the world. From the most perfectly imperfect man, and yet the idea of stopping sends sharp needles down your spine.

“Please,” you whine again, sniffling softly. “I don’t want to stop, I promise. Please don’t make us stop, please don’t…don’t…”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose to yours, forcing you to take a deep breath. “Honey, I’m not doing this to hurt you. Or upset you. I want to help, I want you to let me help. To honor our system and take a break.”

But you tug on him tighter, face disappearing into his chest as you shake your head. “Please don’t. Please just ignore me. I’ll feel worse if we stop, really. I’ll get worried and I’ll overthink, and I’ll panic again, and it’ll just be so much worse. So just…let’s finish, okay? I want to finish.”

You hear – and feel – him sigh. “Baby, I need you to listen to me right now, okay? This is my answer.”

It’s rare he uses this nickname, and even though it might be a little cliché, it makes your stomach wrench in the best possible way.

Yet still, the anguish is evident. “Harry,” you whisper, pleading desperately with everything you have left.

He slips his palm around the back of your neck to pull you from his body and allow him to see your face. It’s scrutinous, his expression. Slightly stern and somewhat doleful. “Do I need to be your dominant again? Is that the only way you’ll listen to me?”

Truth be told, you wonder if it is, and your sad little hiccup seems to be answer enough.

So, while fighting a smile, he says, “Then I want you to be a good girl and let Daddy hold you. I don’t want you to argue with me, or fight me, or act like a brat. I want you to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ and be done with it. Is that understood?”

With a shaky inhale and a feeble nod, you murmur, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he hums before landing his mouth on yours. Kissing you for the first time in what feels like years. “Much sweeter when you behave for me, my love. Aren’t you?”

But you don’t have the strength to answer.

“I know,” he says for you, chuckling against your lips. “Now…I’m gonna pull out. And I’m gonna go slow, all right? Try to be as gentle as I can. And I want you to tell me if it aches or if it’s too much, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

With this vow, he begins to draw his hips back, cock retreating from your pussy until that full feeling begins to diminish.

And at first it’s a bit uncomfortable. Tight, in a sense but eventually, he’s all the way out, and your cunt is provided a moment of much needed reprieve.

The moment that relief finds you, it seems to melt across your expression. And he notices, smiling gratefully but with a twinge of regret. As though he’s punishing himself for causing you the displeasure in the first place.

But before either of you can argue about it again, he’s settling on the mattress beside you and slipping an arm around your stomach. Keeping you pressed against his body to hold you the way he promised.

“There,” he sighs, lips returning to their rightful place on your neck. “Is that better?”

Your eyes fall shut in blissful ecstasy as you lace your hand with his. “Yes, Sir.”

He grins and that familiar dimple reappears. “Attagirl. And you’re gonna let me hold you, yeah?”

“Mhm. Always, Sir.”

He kisses the spot below your ear. “Good.”

The large bedroom falls silent while the little red light from the camera blinks the seconds away. You imagine you’ll have to scrap this video, and you want to feel regret over wasting so much content over this.

But you know, deep down, it’s not about the videos, or your OnlyFans, or the money.

Because all you really need…is here beside you.

“Sir?” you whisper into the delicate air.

His head rolls back. “Yes, Peach?”

“Thank you.”

He squeezes your hip. “Don’t have to thank me, honey. This is my job. This is what we agreed on.”

“I know,” you admit, allowing your other hand to travel to his hair. Fingers absentmindedly sweeping through the curls. “But I don’t think any of my other partners would have been this understanding. And I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrow raises. “Well, that’s why they aren’t your fucking partners anymore. You needed someone that wasn’t a total fucking twat.”

You smirk. “Touché.”

Another quiet lull as you listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Reveling in the feel of them against your heated skin. The way they keep you present in this moment with him instead of losing you to the voices in your head.

Contented, you turn and press your cheek to his forehead, nails scratching down his scalp gently. “Harry?”

“Yes, Peach?”

With a racing heart, your eyes flutter shut.

“…I love you.”

Previous Part:

~ How Many?*

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @closureesny

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