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fleuraimer · 1 month

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…. perhaps a harry x reader blurb to spare 🤲 i will take anything u want to give me. fluff or smut or both or neither ❤️❤️❤️❤️ u rock and my name is also evelyn so i feel bonded to u

u've absolutely made my day with this evelyn :((( i hope you like what i've concocted bestie, she's kinda all over the fucking place, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy <33

wc: 2k

cw: not much, super fluffy, mildly (perhaps majorly) suggestive. not suitable for ramadan!! not proofread. lmk if i missed anything pls!!

Spring is here.

Fucking finally.

All the seasons were lovely to Y/N, each offered something the others didn’t—couldn’t. But spring was different. Special.

Like him.

Like Harry.

Perhaps that’s why her love for it blossomed like the tulips lining her bedroom window; there was something about seeing her usually soft boyfriend get ten times softer as leaves started to sprinkle branches, blades of grass flashed a vibrant green once more, and the sun kissed the earth that got to her tender heart.

It was especially difficult to not melt when he’d planned a small outing for them, centered around the perfectly warm weather. Instead of waiting until nightfall and driving to some stuffy restaurant (although their dinner dates were never anything less than exquisite), they walked hand-in-hand down the boulevard in broad daylight, gentle wisps of wind the only thing surrounding them, as well as the quiet conversation of other passersby.

They didn’t talk. They didn’t have to. They were perfectly content to relish in the mere presence of one another—soak in the rays of sun, and warmth. Love.

Thumbs gave mindless, delicate strokes against the back of palms, rucking up rings, kissing knuckles in apology, and putting them back in place, just to repeat it all over again. The knitted fabric of Harry’s cardigan is soft when it brushes against Y/N’s bare arm (she decided that it was absolutely perfect weather to slip on her favorite flowy sundress, cinched at the waist and flared at the hips, printed with obnoxiously serene-looking flowers and hummingbirds, with a square neckline that farmed the intricate necklace Harry bought her for their second anniversary quite stunningly), but his hand in hers was softer. Better.

Said hand tugs on hers, urging her away from the beaten path and into the ravine of tall, never-ending trees—willows and oaks; sycamores, birches, and maples, too. She resists, no less. Looks down at the cobblestone beneath her soles, and the cute kitten heels that (in her humble opinion) tie her whole spring-era look together.

She pouts.

And then a head of chocolate obscures her view of the pristine, white triangle toes. A hand placed both respectfully and salaciously on her ankle, coaxing her foot to slip from its confines, makes her breath catch in her suddenly dry throat.

Her kind eyes glaze over, ever so slightly.

“Y’don’t have’t—”

“I want to, Bellissima.”

Her shoe slips from her foot with a soft clatter on the ground when he manages to pry her sole from the earth, but it barely registers in her brain. In fact, everything else seems to fade away into the lovely spring that encompasses them when Harry guides his hand further up, along her fleshy calf, and leans in to place a chaste, staggering kiss to the bridge of her foot.

She wobbles, but they both know it’s not because she’s been left to balance on one foot.

Harry smiles, faint—the crater in his stubbled cheek is nearly invisible—and nudges his nose along the smooth skin of her leg.

He works diligently (as diligently as one can when removing a shoe) to rid Y/N of her footwear, relieving her of any worry or pain.

He looks pleasantly boyish when he looks up at her, smiles all cheeky, and winks for good measure. Kneeling on cobblestone in a worn pair of jeans, suede, dirty Adidas, and a vintage band tee that smells of stale coffee, Chanel No. 5 (one of many preferred perfumes of Y/N), and sex no matter how many times they run it through the wash; the green of his seafoam eyes twinkling in the sunlight, sunnies pushing his hair back, and yet one rogue curl still bends and twirls with the wind, falling in a perfectly aesthetic spiral when it settles…

Soft. Boyfriend. Hers.

Her Harry.

He stands to his full height, and they’re much closer than she’d thought they would be, but she’s certainly not complaining. Where before she stood at (about) Harry’s collarbone, now her head barely reaches the underside of his pecs. Her neck strains to keep eye contact as he slips his free hand back into her awaiting palm, the latter of which occupied with their stuffed picnic basket, and now her precious kitten heels.

“Need me to carry you?” He asks, ready to suffer at least a week’s worth of back pain if it meant he’d keep that love-struck, glowy, adorable (subby, stupid, filthy) look on his girl’s face.

Y/N’s eyes widen subtly, though enough for Harry to notice, and he can’t help but have to stifle a chuckle at her bashful demeanor.

“No, thank you,” she squeaks, and now she’s the one tugging his hand, urging them into the abyss of greenery, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The grass feels soft, ticklish, between her powder pink painted toes; she feels her lips stretch into a small grin because of it. They walk idly until they find a soft patch of vividly green grass directly under a tree, kissed fleetingly by the rays of sunlight peaking through the gaps of branches and leaves.

Harry lets his hand fall from Y/N’s (and can’t help but feel slightly colder because of it) to unpack their picnic basket. He grabs the signature red gingham picnic blanket from its place in the basket, releasing its folded form with a flourish. The material floats gracefully through the air until settling on the grass, near gingerly with the way it stops at just the very tips of the blades.

He kicks his chin toward the blanket in invitation as he settles on top of it himself, beginning to remove the contents inside their basket. Sandwiches, fruits, veggies; assorted cheeses and meats, cake, and, arguable most important, wine. He wastes no time in popping the cork from the rouge, pouring a generous amount into each of the pinot noir glasses he’d carefully tucked in the picnic basket.

Y/N kneels onto the blanket, walking on her knees until Harry is within reach, and his incessantly grabby hands are (surprise, surprise!!) grabbing her. He hands her her wine glass and sets his off to the side for the time being, sliding his bear palms up the full of her thighs, the swell of her bum, small of her back…

She shivers as they pet down again, nails biting at her hips to grip and pull her into his lap.

“Too far,” he grumbles, nuzzling in the space where her neck and collarbone meet. He peppers soft kisses along the strong bone, inhaling the natural, overwhelming scent of her. His girl.

Y/N goes easily, sipping slowly at her red wine while her free hand comes up to his hair, fingers threading through the fluffy tendrils. She snatches his sunnies away when they block her half-hearted scalp massage, muttering delicate apologies when the bend of them gets stuck in his hair and he hisses at the sting.

“Sorry, Baby,” she winces herself, chucking the damned glasses onto the blanket when she’s gotten them loose, kissing along the crown of his head to soothe any ache.

She sips more, tart grape hitting her tongue, sugary plum sliding down her throat, strawberry slicking her lips. She’s borderline greedy with the way she downs it, but they’ve got nowhere to be. Only here. Just here. Now.

She twists in Harry’s laps to grab one of the homemade BLTs, offering the half she won’t stuff her fat gob with to Harry, which he politely accepts. They munch quietly, sharing soft smiles and love-sick kisses in between bites. Conversation is sparse, but not bad. Never bad. If anything, the weight of their words is heavier because they’re so few and far between.

They both like it that way, anyhow.

When their feast has dwindled down to nothing but a few fruits and cakes, Harry fishes his phone from his pocket, and reaches in the picnic basket to grab his trusty pair of wired headphones. Hooking them up to his phone, he looks expectantly to Y/N. She raises her brow, never one to move unprompted.

Harry smirks, “Come, Bellissima.”

Her heart flitters, her stomach flutters, and her eyes round out (Harry tries not to think about how fucking easy—). She crawls back to him, in a way that is unnecessarily intimate and innocent, and simultaneously astoundingly nasty, but he tucks the image into the deep, deep, dark recess of his mind so he doesn’t get arrested for public indecency. Saves it for later (call it his spankbank).

He tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before handing her and earbud, and lying down on his side. She follows, the two inserting the device into their ears at the same time. Her head instantly floods with staggered strings and piano, static, and then bass. Saxophone and acoustic guitar being delicately plucked, followed by a heady, gentle voice, similar to Bowie (but never as iconic).

“About You,” she whispers to him, her lips quirking.

Harry nods. Smiles, “The 1975.”

As the music progresses—the subtle vibrato of Matty Healy’s croon, the crescendo of each instrument and sound blending together to create one beautiful, extravagant, mind-bending symphony—Y/N swears she can see all five oceans in his eyes. The clear, breathtaking reefs, the lines that separates it from the rest of the water, dividing the calm from the chaos, the serene from the danger. She sees the deep, the unknown she wishes the dive further into, explore and discover, treasure for nothing but her own heart. And the seafoam that crashes up against the shore, the way it bubbles with joy and glistens in the light of the sun at the horizon, ever so fleeting as it washes back down the grains of sand.

She sees it all.

“S’pretty,” she mumbles, scooting closer as much as she can.

Harry wraps the arm not tucked under his head around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes flit dazedly between her two.

She may see the ocean, but he sees the sky. The constellations, laid out for him beautifully, his for the taking. His.

He nods, “S’pretty.” Bumps his nose childishly against hers, smiles softly, triumphantly, when it scrunches up. His eyebrows pull together in the center, and he huffs a breath through his nose, “S’fucking gorgeous, Stellina.”

His mouth is on her before she can ask for a translation (there’s only some many Italian pet names a girl can recall) tongue prodding at the seem of her lips until they give way and he can slide the wet muscle against her own. She tastes of their shared wine and vanilla buttercream, and he tastes of fresh peaches, mozzarella, and tangy balsamic vinegar. And yet, somehow, it mixes together to create something new, something better, arguably. He fits her bottom lip between his two, nipping and sucking at the plump flesh, pulling breathy whimpers and faint moans from his lover. His grunts and groans in response are no less self-deprecating (they were both, admittedly, getting extremely hot over a couple of third date level kisses).

Neither paid it much mind, however. Especially not when Harry flips around so he’s lying on his back and she’s pressed firmly against his torso, belly’s melding, chests grazing. Y/N can’t stifle her soft gasp at the heavy weight of Harry against her inner thigh, but she can’t reprimand him, for she is no better—there’s a puddle in the gusset of her panties.

“Harry,” she whines, lashes fluttering when his hands find the swell of her bum and squeeze through the flimsy fabric of her sundress.

“G'na take y'home now, Bellissima,” he husks against her open mouth, tongue flicking at the swollen mess. “Fuck you the way y'deserve for being such a good girl today—” She bristles, rocking into him and crying out softly because of it. “—and if y'keep it up, we’ll go to tha’ cute little flee market y'keep tellin’ me about, yeah?”

She’s being bribed with his (impeccable; divine; otherworldly) cock and her love for all things vintage.

“Can we go to the botanical garden, too?”

Harry snorts, issues a teasing spank to her bum that makes her squeal, but smiles, nevertheless. “Sure, Baby, whatever y'want.”

(Impeccable; divine; otherworldly) Cock, a flee market, and a botanical garden?

She’s in heaven. In happiness. In full bloom.

She fucking adores spring.

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comfort-person · 9 months

Text

Don’t you call him baby

Request: hi! I’ve been obsessed with the song ‘cherry’ lately and was wondering whether you could write something about it? I’m so hyper fixed on it and AH I just need something smutty and angsty if possible? Thank you!!

A/n: I haven’t mentioned it but I went for a job interview and I got the job!! Hooray!

Minors please do not interact

Warnings: smut, exes, toxicity, mention of arguments, angst… jealous Harry. Protective Harry. Dominant Harry. Degrading/ praise. Cheating kinda? Rough… as well. Very sexual scenes. (Make up sex pretty much) if this isn’t your thing/ it makes you uncomfortable please scroll past. But if you read and are easily effected by some strong/ tense scenes please read at your own discretion. Much love, A. x

Harry styles x fem! Reader

Inspirations from cherry:

Don’t you call him baby

Did you know I still talk to them?

“How is she?” His voice cut through the silence, Harry had decided to meet up with one of your closest friends. It took a lot to convince her but she eventually gave in to his constant requests of knowing how you were doing. Noa sat opposite Harry her chin resting on her knuckles as she gazed at him “harry I know you care about her… but y/n wants to move on. It’s time to move on.” She spoke calmly and sensibly. She never got involved between drama or toxic relationships but you had been constantly stressing over the fact that Harry was so bluntly concerned about you. You hated it. In fact you despised him and wished he would go and find a new girl to date… but Harry didn’t want that. He didn’t want a new girl. He wanted you. “I know, Noa.” He muttered to her his hands rubbing against each other slightly before he sighed “is she okay though? In herself? I haven’t seen her in a while…”

Noa stared at the man, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he only wanted the best for you. “She’s okay.” She nodded her head smiling, “she’s happier.” Those words tore him apart, selfishly so, you were happier without him? That alone was difficult to comprehend yet he forced a smile “that’s good.” Noa nodded her head “yeah… she misses you though. I’m sure you both miss each other. But she’s moved on… and you have to as well.” Harry should’ve listened- but those words but she’s moved on made his heart plummet. What did she mean by that? Did you have a new boyfriend? Someone who made you happier than ever? Was Harry truly not enough for you? He felt jealousy creeping up within him yet on his perfectly sculpted face was nothing but calmness. But under that was a storm brewing.. messy and huge. “She’s got a boyfriend?” He soon asked gawking at her and Noa gazed at him, clearly not wanting to discuss anymore and Harry quickly cut her off before she could’ve said anything else:

“You know what. Never mind… I’m sorry it’s none of my business.” he smiled falsely before shaking his head “it was nice meeting up with you again. We’ll have to do it some other time… yeah?” Or in better words- we’ll meet up to talk about y/n more. Harry didn’t like to admit it but he was a tad bit crazy. But in a way that he adored you and loved you… so much so no one else could love you the way he loved you… he was frankly obsessed with you. You were the one who made him happiest. The one to make his whole world light up around him… you dragged him out of the darkest pits of hell and saved him. You both had history with each other and that was clear. He missed you. It angered him that you had moved on so quickly but he had decided then and there that he wasn’t going to let you live that down… he would make you realise all over again just how much you missed him… all of him.

And so that’s exactly how it played out. Harry still had a key to your apartment from when you were together and so he allowed himself in before situating himself on your bed laying against the headboard as he simply awaited for you to stumble upon him. He wasn’t sure how you would react… maybe scream at him? Hit him? Punch him? But he found himself praying that you would kiss him and tell him you loved him still. But love wasn’t that easy now was it? He was a jealous man but he refused to see his jealousy. You didn’t even split from each other because of anything horrible like cheating or whatever- it was just a dumb argument. But seeing it now it was incredibly stupid and if Harry could’ve turned back time then he would’ve. All he wanted for you was for you to be happy.

About twenty minutes passed, you had just finished up a small date with your new boyfriend. You loved him. You truly did. But he wasn’t Harry. You missed Harry terribly, neither of you spoke to each other and every day you found yourself wanting him more and more. You missed the smell of his cologne, the way he would run his fingers through your hair… you just missed him. A soft sigh left your lips your key held in your hand as you slowly pushed the key into the keyhole before unlocking the door and opening it. You shrugged your jacket off, hanging it up and locking the front door before heading straight for your bedroom. You were tired and just wanted to sleep… but you missed Harry. Sleep usually helped ease your mind but no matter what it would always be difficult. You were craving his love, his attention, his touch… all of him. But that was so wrong, wasn’t it? You slowly walked into your room before freezing at the sight your eyes widening, lips slightly parting as you stared at the man on your bed. The man you still adored. You blinked, a shaky breath leaving your lips. “Hi,” he spoke with a smile but you just stared unable to react before eventually you shook your head “Harry you need to leave.” You murmured softly but the way his eyes travelled up and down your body subtly made your heart flip upside down your breath catching in your throat. “You want me to leave?” He asked raising his brows slightly “Harry please…” he slowly stood up from the bed as he walked towards you “you’re just saying that.” He murmured gently his eyes searching yours that had a look of need, urgency and fire in them “I know you. I love you. I want you.” Your lips remained parted and you stared at him in shock… he wanted you? What did he mean by that? “What do-“ “I mean I really… really want you.” The look in his green eyes told you it all, your wide doe like eyes widening even further before you shook your head lightly “I can’t Harry. I’ve got a boyfriend…” you spoke quietly and the man smiled slightly “I’m aware of that, sweetheart…” but before you could’ve even asked how he knew he was already talking again “he doesn’t give you what you need, does he? He doesn’t fuck you long and hard right? He doesn’t grab you by the throat and tell you who you belong to. Does he?” His eyes bored into yours your breathing now more frantic, your stomach fluttering dangerously before his slender ring adorned fingers reached up gently grabbing a hold of your chin before he leaned in looking more deep into your eyes “does he?” You blinked your eyes, breathing faster now before you shook your head an accomplished smirk forming on those pretty lips of his, “do you want that? Do you need that? Hm you pretty thing?” And you found yourself nodding frantically feeling butterflies travel elsewhere throughout your entire body, some fluttering down straight into your already throbbing heat, eyes wide as you clenched your thighs together attempting to be subtle about it whilst also attempting to add enough pressure to take the edge off of it.

“Good thing I’m here then” he spoke smiling before he pulled you in roughly his lips colliding with yours in a hot passionate kiss, the kisses were slightly sloppy, your hands resting against the sides of his neck as he soon wrapped his arms around your waist gripping onto you tightly, his fingers soon sliding underneath your T-shirt which he soon slid up your body before discarding it on the floor, which were then followed by your jeans his hands gliding up and down your body skilfully, creating all those little goosebumps which had your knees weak, his lips remained connected to yours before he trailed the sloppy kisses down to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses against your soft skin before he pulled away gazing into your eyes “get on the bed. Get comfortable.” Those words alone had another flurry of butterflies consume your stomach and you rather quickly got onto the bed, backing up until your back was against the headboard your hungry eyes remaining on his “good girl, I see you can follow orders hm?” See how long that lasts… your eyes remained on him trying to guess what he was going to do next but you watched as he remained standing still, hands lightly crossed over his chest his eyes scanning shamelessly all over you watching how your chest raised and fell so angelically whereas your thighs clenched together so incredibly tightly. He didn’t speak, allowing you to listen to your heavy breathing and indefinitely the sound of your heart racing in your ears. He found it adorable how your cheeks were already flushed…. He hadn’t even started and you were already a mess. “Oh my poor pathetic baby, hm?” A soft chuckle left his lips before he walked closer to the bed until his knees were touching against the end of it “reach down.” He demanded you feigning a slight confused look. “Don’t be stupid, darling. Use that pretty head of yours… you know what I’m asking of you.” You remained still. Eyes on him your breathing increasing all over again before he smirked “fine. Play with yourself.” Those words made your eyes widen, but your hand, like it was being controlled by a puppeteer slowly crept down, your hand moving your panties to the side your fingers immediately getting to work. You were already soaked… embarrassingly so. Your head lightly tilted backwards, lips parting as a low gasp left your lips your fingers gliding teasingly up and down, before one started circling around your clit a whimper leaving your lips.

Harry’s hungry eyes remained on you, watching as you played for him, watching with careful eyes. Listening to your reactions… “mhm just like that sweetheart. Just like that.” He spoke softly his lips parted as he just watched you play for him. “You sensitive baby?” His tone was accusing, your brows furrowed slightly as you were too lost in your own pleasure. Usually your fingers didn’t help you whatsoever but with Harry just watching it made the moment more intense. More insane. Incredibly hot. You didn’t respond, making the man tilt his head to the side “hm? Is that a no? Darling you know that I know you. You cant fool me…” he watched your brows furrow deeper and deeper and he smirked before slowly walking round to the edge of the bed where his large hand soon wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from toying with yourself before he used two of his fingers to drag up and down your slit, your hips jolting and he smirked cockily staring down at you, your eyes glossy from the ceasing of pleasure “you are sensitive” he analysed gently before chuckling gently “how many times?” His tone was dangerous and your lower lip trembled “I-I don’t know…” you whispered softly and he stared deeply into your eyes “so you played with yourself… yesterday? Did you?” Your cheeks became flushed again and he chuckled “darling don’t go shy on me. It’s okay if you did…” his tone was so comforting but you knew him as much as he knew you. “I did… but…” you paused and he raised a brow “but?” He trailed off and you studied his eyes “I played whilst thinking of you.”

Those words stunned the man yet they also turned him on that much more the bulge in his jeans larger, making his jeans more uncomfortable. “Jesus Christ baby…” he whispered before he abruptly and without warning grabbed a hold of your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips were dangling off of the edge before he helped pull your panties off his knees soon buckling as he knelt down, pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders arms locking around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer “don’t you dare close your eyes. Look at me. Got it?” You nodded your head furiously, feeling his breath fan against your sopping cunt “verbal sweetheart c’mon” he cooed out and you whimpered “yes.. yes!” He smiled large hands gripping onto your thighs before he lowered his mouth down to your aching core “what a good girl hm?” He spoke, before his licked a stripe up your slit a low groan leaving his lips before his lips wrapped around your clit, tongue starting to flick mercilessly against it as he began sucking against it slightly your head tilting backwards in awed making the man you dream about slap your thigh slightly reminding you to keep your eyes on him- your eyes locking with his as he stared deeply into your soul. Whilst doing that, his fingers paid close attention to the hole that clenched around nothing before his slid one of his fingers in beginning to thrust in and out slowly and carefully, your eyes squeezing shut “y/n…” he growled out sending vibrations throughout you and you moaned out, yet your head flew forwards eyes locking with his again, a second finger being eased in, his fingers thrusting in and out steadily and slowly- curling ever so slightly hitting that spot within you making your back arch slightly from the fact that you had been so touch starved recently and you were now getting what you wanted. Exactly what you wanted. His eyes pierced into your own and you panted, he felt the way you clenched around him and instantly quickened his pace soft whines leaving your lips “louder” he demanded, your whimpers turning into loud moans as your hips attempting to buck up into his mouth and fingers yet from the grip he hand on your thighs you stood no chance.

“h-harry I-I’m gonna-“ you felt the coil tighten to the point you knew it was inevitably going to break, but all that came to a agonisingly teasing halt as Harry stopped. Your desperate body writhing, attempting to get more of his touch. “Ah ah… you don’t get to cum. Not just yet.” His eyes bored into yours and he smirked your flushed face contorted with need, before a little chuckle left his lips “tell me why you want to? Why you deserve to, hm?” Your eyes glared into his hungrily that soft smirk on his perfectly sculpted face “i-I’ve been good… i- I just need you…” you whined out in that whiny voice that he loved so much, his head soon tilting wanting to hear more of it “and? Come on baby, sooner you get it over with sooner I can make you feel good…” he was so arrogantly calm about it all, yet under all of that facade he was wanting to fuck you hard. You breathed heavily, panting, eyes squeezing shut as moans of need left your lips before you panted out a very soft: “I love you…”

And that was all he needed to hear before he tapped your thigh three times with his index finger, asking for you to move, and so you did- laying on your back on the bed. You watched as he took his belt off, his clothes being discarded hurriedly but rather lazily all at the same time your mouth practically watering at the sight of him before he clambered on top of you, lips smashing against yours, your lips moulding with his- connecting like the last piece of a puzzle before he aligned his cock with you before he thrusted in, your eyes instantly rolling to the back of your head, your legs locking around his waist- nails digging into his back as you panted heavily “fuck fuck fuck” you whined out, soft grunts leaving his lips his face buried slightly into the crook of your neck his hair a mess making him look that much more hot “feel so good” you spoke breathing heavily as he found a perfect rhythm the only sounds being a mixture of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin. He left kisses against your neck, hickeys being littered all over your warm silky skin. “Don’t call him baby again… don’t… don’t…” he spoke through slight grunts “do you understand me? Don’t want you seeing him again.” His tone was dangerous, possessive and needful, you nodded your head weakly your walls clenching desperately around him your nails scratching into his back “good girl. Good girl.”

“Who makes you feel this good?” “You do Harry…” your voice was pathetically weak from the pleasure rocketing throughout you and soon enough that coil was tightening all over again, his thrusts had become more sloppy and his moans were growing louder. His lips connected with yours, his head slightly pulling back making a string of saliva pull from both of your lips before snapping as he kissed you again “cum…” he groaned out against your lips and just like that the euphoria wrapped around both you and him your moans being muffled by his lips, his loud moans soon too being muffled as he dug his teeth into your shoulder, his thrusts continuing- helping you through your high before he stopped, body slumped against yours, heart to heart- bodies hot and sweaty your lips slightly swollen from how hard and rough he had kissed them but you didn’t care… the pleasure didn’t stop. It was continuous. But you loved it…

His green eyes soon met yours and you smiled lazily up at him his hand soon cupping against your cheek “love you so much” he muttered softly and you smiled pressing a gentle kiss to his lips “love you too…” your eyes searched his before he kissed you again “missed you.” He murmured softly and to say those words were highly reciprocated was an understatement. You both missed each other terribly… and finally… you were back together again. Finally.

Literally my first time writing long smut so please excuse how terrible it is😭 hope you liked it! Anyways if you’d all like a part two or another smutty story then lmk! Or just send in a request! All the love always, Amber x

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