maudie-duan

[maudie-duan]

Heather!! 💕 Thanks soooo much for sharing my story! You're the best @cherriesnharry 🥰🫶🏽

Summary: The second you slipped the hoodie over your head, you drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smell that clung to the fabric, inhaling him, his scent like a warm hug. It was intoxicating, made you dizzy with a want you could no longer hide.

A/N: I know it's Tuesday, but our little Monday Blurb got pushed due to life happening. This was a request from @lizsogolden. Based on the song TiO by Zane, and the LIDO Festival Pics.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning: Freaky Smut, playing off the lyrics. (a quick moment of consensual head pushing.) TiO (Take It Off)

The first thing you wanted was your mouth on his skin, his shirt coming off, your tongue dragging over his flesh like a fucking animal, as you breathed him in—the sure scent of salt and earth—you wanted the taste of him to spread across your taste buds like a goddamn feast, like the last meal you would ever need.

And that’s exactly how it happened. 

A shove through the door, you reaching for the hem of his shirt as he shimmyed out of his jacket, your eyes narrowing at the task at hand, because there was only this. As soon as he yanked his shirt over his head, your mouth dove in. Moving straight for the peak of his nipple, and you pressed your tongue flat against the firm tip, warm and soft, as you pushed against him, pulling a low groan from Harry, who was watching you with wild eyes, pupils blown, a mirror to what you felt—to what you wanted.

You quickly dropped to your knees, hands falling to his waist, pulling him closer—greedy, that’s what you felt, a greed rising, a need you had felt since the moment you saw him earlier that night—a frenzied need spurred on the moment he handed you his hoodie, your eyes catching on the exposed flesh of his tatted torso when he pulled the warm hoodie over his head, his shirt coming with it.

It was a glance, a fucking peek, but he caught you, and you couldn’t play it off.

But isn’t this how it all began? A peek, a glance, an action?

He was a friend of a friend. Someone you had met a handful of times, barely an exchange of words. At the time, it wasn’t really the setting, but neither was tonight, because there was no space to talk really, not over the noise and the crowd, you had only your awareness of his presence, only the passing seconds of a glance.

It was a last-minute decision, you coming to the festival. You had made other plans, and when they fell through, you accepted the invite. These were your creative friends; there was never a dull night with them. You knew it would be interesting, a fun night out, a good distraction. You hadn’t expected to see him there.

Harry.

There he was, standing on the opposite side, your two friends a barrier between you. You had forgotten how tall he was, how captivating his features were in any light. He looked good, too good, fuck, in a pair of red shorts that hugged his muscular thighs, of course showcasing the bulge of his package, because you had to look, why not, his short, shorts were practically offering-up a perfect view.

You couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting to him throughout the night, stealing glances when you thought no one was looking.

But he noticed. Of course, he noticed. 

Every time your gaze met his, he would smirk, a knowing smile that sent a tingle to the tips of your toes, as you bit back your smile. You saw it in the sparkle of his green eyes, the mischievous glint taunting you to play. It was like a game between the two of you, this secretive back and forth, filled with heated looks, this teasing presence that stole your focus entirely, because you couldn’t even remember any of the music that had come and went throughout the night. 

He had your imagination running wild. Dirty thoughts stacking up like tokens you would save for later—needy thoughts of ripping off those tight shorts, you running your hands over his hard body, of tasting every inch of his skin.

You wanted it, and so you would have it.

He was a pro, but you made him work for it, putting him to the test as the night wore on. But the evening was in your favor as the temperature began to drop. You knew you could use this to your advantage, and you couldn’t help but shiver in your thin t-shirt. You hugging yourself every time you all leaned in to talk, or you blankly taking in the band on stage, in those moments, you were playing hard to get. 

Dammit, the pull was there, the pull was evident, and you glimpsed it from the corner of your eye, Harry taking the bait because suddenly he was making his way towards you, trading places with your friend so he could stand by your side.

“Cold?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and he smiled, eyes trained on you as he wriggled out of his jacket, and when he casually tossed it onto the barrier, your heart started to race. 

You didn’t stand a chance, you standing there with hungry eyes trying to pretend like he had no effect on you, and as he pulled his hoodie over his head, it was almost too much, the motion causing his shirt to ride up and expose his toned abs—that fucking butterfly tattoo at the center of his chest on full display—and your breath seized in your throat as you caught a glimpse of his nipple, hard and pebbled as the night breeze picked up. 

Fuck. That was it. Your breaking point. You knew right then that you would do anything, absolutely anything, to get him alone. To feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin. You needed him, craved him with a fucking ferocity that was already chipping away at you—you knowing there would be no holding back once you got your hands on him.

Your eyes met as Harry’s arm reached out with the hoodie, that knowing grin ripping through you, and your gaze floated down his body, his fingers brushing against yours in the exchange, lingering just a second too long, long enough for you to watch him pull his t-shirt back down. 

The second you slipped the hoodie over your head, you drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smell that clung to the fabric, inhaling him, his scent like a warm hug. It was intoxicating, made you dizzy with a want you could no longer hide. The rest of the night was a blur of stolen touches—a touch on the elbow to get your attention, innocent, but laced with a beckoning desire that never left his eyes. 

Because every gesture was an invitation, every whisper a frenzied haze when his warm breath fanned past the shell of your ear, him getting as close as the public would allow, but that was okay, because it only made you want it more; only made the flame burn in the pit of your stomach as the anticipation pulsed between your thighs. By the time your friends were ready to leave, you were practically vibrating out of your skin, desperate to get him alone.

“My place?” you whispered as you hugged him goodbye, your lips grazing the lobe of his ear.

“Lead the way,” he rasped back, his large hand splayed possessively on your lower back.

And you knew this was it.

The drive to your apartment was an agonizing burn, both the longest and shortest ride of your life. Every red light felt like torture as adrenaline hummed over your skin at every stop, adding to the seconds, the minutes it would take to get him through your front door, and it all happened in a flash—a shove threw the door, your hands on his body as his clothes began to come off, and then you were on your knees, eyes level, the inked butterfly staring back at you.

There was no hesitation in the way you moved, licking and nipping at his heated flesh, relishing the salty tang on your tongue. “Fuck, you’re eager,” he huffed, already breathless, head thrown back as you scraped your teeth over his nipple again. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed against his skin. “Want you so bad. Couldn’t stop thinking about this—about having you…”

Then he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you bit down on the wing of the butterfly, making you laugh. Suddenly, his hands were in your hair, wrenching your head back to look into your eyes. “Show me how bad you want it—what you want to do to me.”

Without warning, Harry shoves your face into the hard bulge of his shorts, both hands on your head now as he buries you in his groin, and for effect, you struggle, letting out a muffled gasp, part real, part dramatic, but you wanted to lean into the bit, wanted this control over you. 

You liked the surprise, so why not play?

You started mouthing at the fabric of his shorts, hands sliding to his hips, gripping as you dragged your tongue over the bulge straining against the red material. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned as you worked to free his cock, pulling down the waistband of his shorts and boxers in one swift motion.

His thick, hard length sprung free, slapping against his stomach before your eager hands wrapped around the base, and like the greedy beast you were becoming, you licked your lips, ready to devour him whole, but Harry had other plans, and when he stepped out of his shorts, he grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet.

“Take it off,” he commanded, eyes dark with the lust you felt aching between your legs. “I want to watch you take it all off.”

And fuck, you didn’t need to be told twice, and in a frantic rush, you stripped off the borrowed hoodie and your own clothes until you were completely bare before him, your chest rising and falling with the effort as Harry drank in the sight of your naked body with the same hunger you felt.

“On the floor. Now,” he demanded, pushing you down onto the hardwood.

You landed with a thud, the pain only egging you on, and your legs splayed open, your pussy already ready for him, and God, as he dropped to his knees it was like the earth stood still, Harry becoming the center of your world for that moment in time—a complete universe pulsing between his legs as he nudged your thighs wider, hands grasping hold of your hips as he positioned his throbbing cock at your slick entrance.

“You’re a freak like me, aren’t you?” he told you with a wicked grin, barely a question. “I could taste it—the way you shoved your tongue into my mouth. You’re a dirty girl who needs to be fucked hard, huh?”

“God, yes,” you whimpered, arching your back, desperate to be filled by him. “I need it, please, Harry...”

And then he was giving it to you, the whole fucking universe with one brutal thrust as he slammed inside you completely, stretching and filling you so fucking full that stars bloomed behind your eyes, and it was everything all at once, you thought as a broken moan tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion— pleasure and pain—rocketing through your entire body as he began to set a relentless pace, pounding with no lack of resistance right there on the floor of your entryway.

It was glorious, savage even, but this was what you needed as you clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he railed you into the ground, the floorboards creaking underneath you, echoing off the walls. It was unrestrained bliss, primitive fucking that had you holding on for dear life—no tenderness or foreplay, just pure carnal desire unleashed. You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his firm ass, urging him deeper, harder, faster.

And just as you were about to come, you pushed a hand into his shoulder, urging him onto his back, and he silently followed your wordless command, ripping out of your body with a force that had a gush smearing between your thighs as you climbed on top. 

Without wasting time, you straddled his hips, sinking down onto his cock with a guttural moan, your hands braced on his chest as you began to ride him. It didn’t take long before your hips were rolling and bucking, you were desperate to take him deep, find that same rhythm as your pussy clenched around his thick length with each bounce, and Harry’s hands found your waist, guiding your movements, urging you on as you chased your pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that,” he growled, his eyes focused on where your bodies met, watching as his cock disappeared inside you over and over. “Take what you need, my greedy little freak.”

And fuck if you didn’t almost come right then and there, and when you ground down onto him with that craze that was overtaking you, your breasts bounced with the exertion of each hopeless movement, because you were definitely greedy with it, lost in the sensation like you had no other sense of perception—lost in the way he stretched and filled you so perfectly, hitting that spot deep inside that had you spinning out of your mind, and your head fell back, eyes squeezed shut as you rode him harder, chasing that peak that was just at the tips of your fingers.

Harry’s hands moved to your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave marks as he thrust up into you, meeting your downward movements with his own powerful snap of his hips. “Touch yourself,” he forced, his voice strained, and you could tell he was holding back his own release. “I want to watch you come all over my cock.”

You were ready, could feel the tension building, a knot tightening in your lower belly, and you slid your hand down your body. When your fingers found your clit, you started rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud as you continued to ride him like a woman possessed—riding him like the fucking freak you were—not possessed, like a woman with need, and shit, the added stimulation was all it took, and with a few more thrusts, you were coming hard, your orgasm crashing over your vision as waves of ecstasy rippled through you.

“Fuck, Harry!” you cried out, your walls fluttering and clenching around him as you rode out your high, grinding down onto his cock to prolong the pleasure.

Harry pulled out then, bucking you up his body as a hand flew to his cock, and you forced your mouth to his, catching his moan of release. You felt his body twitch under yours, and you knew he was coming, knew you both got what you needed. When your eyes locked, something in his eyes had softened, gone new, and you realized you liked this part, too: the aftermath, the leftover heat that was settling over you both, that electric charge simmering to a low hum between you.

As you both lay there—exhausted in the entryway—Harry watched your shoulders tremble in the come-down, green eyes tracing the sweat on your sternum, the tremor in your thighs.

You had expected some awkwardness, a stagger up to the bathroom, maybe a quick goodbye, but Harry only reached for the balled-up hoodie and tucked it under your head as you adjusted your body next to his, completely spent, and he curled his arm beneath your neck, pulling you into him, your bodies melding together as his head fell back to the floor like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

And you nuzzled your cheek into his chest, breathing in the scent of him, already forming a list of all the places you wanted to fuck him in your apartment, because this was your platter and he was your feast, and somehow you were still hungry.

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @harryyloverrr @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @lizsogolden @spinninc @iloveharrystyles04 @mema10 @avas-queen-black @starshollowgazette @practistyles

Other One-Shots<-

[maudie-duan]

Ohh heyyyy! @goobernickle thanks for sharing! Love seeing your name on my feed! 🫶🏽💕

Summary: The second you slipped the hoodie over your head, you drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smell that clung to the fabric, inhaling him, his scent like a warm hug. It was intoxicating, made you dizzy with a want you could no longer hide.

A/N: I know it's Tuesday, but our little Monday Blurb got pushed due to life happening. This was a request from @lizsogolden. Based on the song TiO by Zane, and the LIDO Festival Pics.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning: Freaky Smut, playing off the lyrics. (a quick moment of consensual head pushing.) TiO (Take It Off)

The first thing you wanted was your mouth on his skin, his shirt coming off, your tongue dragging over his flesh like a fucking animal, as you breathed him in—the sure scent of salt and earth—you wanted the taste of him to spread across your taste buds like a goddamn feast, like the last meal you would ever need.

And that’s exactly how it happened. 

A shove through the door, you reaching for the hem of his shirt as he shimmyed out of his jacket, your eyes narrowing at the task at hand, because there was only this. As soon as he yanked his shirt over his head, your mouth dove in. Moving straight for the peak of his nipple, and you pressed your tongue flat against the firm tip, warm and soft, as you pushed against him, pulling a low groan from Harry, who was watching you with wild eyes, pupils blown, a mirror to what you felt—to what you wanted.

You quickly dropped to your knees, hands falling to his waist, pulling him closer—greedy, that’s what you felt, a greed rising, a need you had felt since the moment you saw him earlier that night—a frenzied need spurred on the moment he handed you his hoodie, your eyes catching on the exposed flesh of his tatted torso when he pulled the warm hoodie over his head, his shirt coming with it.

It was a glance, a fucking peek, but he caught you, and you couldn’t play it off.

But isn’t this how it all began? A peek, a glance, an action?

He was a friend of a friend. Someone you had met a handful of times, barely an exchange of words. At the time, it wasn’t really the setting, but neither was tonight, because there was no space to talk really, not over the noise and the crowd, you had only your awareness of his presence, only the passing seconds of a glance.

It was a last-minute decision, you coming to the festival. You had made other plans, and when they fell through, you accepted the invite. These were your creative friends; there was never a dull night with them. You knew it would be interesting, a fun night out, a good distraction. You hadn’t expected to see him there.

Harry.

There he was, standing on the opposite side, your two friends a barrier between you. You had forgotten how tall he was, how captivating his features were in any light. He looked good, too good, fuck, in a pair of red shorts that hugged his muscular thighs, of course showcasing the bulge of his package, because you had to look, why not, his short, shorts were practically offering-up a perfect view.

You couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting to him throughout the night, stealing glances when you thought no one was looking.

But he noticed. Of course, he noticed. 

Every time your gaze met his, he would smirk, a knowing smile that sent a tingle to the tips of your toes, as you bit back your smile. You saw it in the sparkle of his green eyes, the mischievous glint taunting you to play. It was like a game between the two of you, this secretive back and forth, filled with heated looks, this teasing presence that stole your focus entirely, because you couldn’t even remember any of the music that had come and went throughout the night. 

He had your imagination running wild. Dirty thoughts stacking up like tokens you would save for later—needy thoughts of ripping off those tight shorts, you running your hands over his hard body, of tasting every inch of his skin.

You wanted it, and so you would have it.

He was a pro, but you made him work for it, putting him to the test as the night wore on. But the evening was in your favor as the temperature began to drop. You knew you could use this to your advantage, and you couldn’t help but shiver in your thin t-shirt. You hugging yourself every time you all leaned in to talk, or you blankly taking in the band on stage, in those moments, you were playing hard to get. 

Dammit, the pull was there, the pull was evident, and you glimpsed it from the corner of your eye, Harry taking the bait because suddenly he was making his way towards you, trading places with your friend so he could stand by your side.

“Cold?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and he smiled, eyes trained on you as he wriggled out of his jacket, and when he casually tossed it onto the barrier, your heart started to race. 

You didn’t stand a chance, you standing there with hungry eyes trying to pretend like he had no effect on you, and as he pulled his hoodie over his head, it was almost too much, the motion causing his shirt to ride up and expose his toned abs—that fucking butterfly tattoo at the center of his chest on full display—and your breath seized in your throat as you caught a glimpse of his nipple, hard and pebbled as the night breeze picked up. 

Fuck. That was it. Your breaking point. You knew right then that you would do anything, absolutely anything, to get him alone. To feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin. You needed him, craved him with a fucking ferocity that was already chipping away at you—you knowing there would be no holding back once you got your hands on him.

Your eyes met as Harry’s arm reached out with the hoodie, that knowing grin ripping through you, and your gaze floated down his body, his fingers brushing against yours in the exchange, lingering just a second too long, long enough for you to watch him pull his t-shirt back down. 

The second you slipped the hoodie over your head, you drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smell that clung to the fabric, inhaling him, his scent like a warm hug. It was intoxicating, made you dizzy with a want you could no longer hide. The rest of the night was a blur of stolen touches—a touch on the elbow to get your attention, innocent, but laced with a beckoning desire that never left his eyes. 

Because every gesture was an invitation, every whisper a frenzied haze when his warm breath fanned past the shell of your ear, him getting as close as the public would allow, but that was okay, because it only made you want it more; only made the flame burn in the pit of your stomach as the anticipation pulsed between your thighs. By the time your friends were ready to leave, you were practically vibrating out of your skin, desperate to get him alone.

“My place?” you whispered as you hugged him goodbye, your lips grazing the lobe of his ear.

“Lead the way,” he rasped back, his large hand splayed possessively on your lower back.

And you knew this was it.

The drive to your apartment was an agonizing burn, both the longest and shortest ride of your life. Every red light felt like torture as adrenaline hummed over your skin at every stop, adding to the seconds, the minutes it would take to get him through your front door, and it all happened in a flash—a shove threw the door, your hands on his body as his clothes began to come off, and then you were on your knees, eyes level, the inked butterfly staring back at you.

There was no hesitation in the way you moved, licking and nipping at his heated flesh, relishing the salty tang on your tongue. “Fuck, you’re eager,” he huffed, already breathless, head thrown back as you scraped your teeth over his nipple again. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed against his skin. “Want you so bad. Couldn’t stop thinking about this—about having you…”

Then he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you bit down on the wing of the butterfly, making you laugh. Suddenly, his hands were in your hair, wrenching your head back to look into your eyes. “Show me how bad you want it—what you want to do to me.”

Without warning, Harry shoves your face into the hard bulge of his shorts, both hands on your head now as he buries you in his groin, and for effect, you struggle, letting out a muffled gasp, part real, part dramatic, but you wanted to lean into the bit, wanted this control over you. 

You liked the surprise, so why not play?

You started mouthing at the fabric of his shorts, hands sliding to his hips, gripping as you dragged your tongue over the bulge straining against the red material. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned as you worked to free his cock, pulling down the waistband of his shorts and boxers in one swift motion.

His thick, hard length sprung free, slapping against his stomach before your eager hands wrapped around the base, and like the greedy beast you were becoming, you licked your lips, ready to devour him whole, but Harry had other plans, and when he stepped out of his shorts, he grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet.

“Take it off,” he commanded, eyes dark with the lust you felt aching between your legs. “I want to watch you take it all off.”

And fuck, you didn’t need to be told twice, and in a frantic rush, you stripped off the borrowed hoodie and your own clothes until you were completely bare before him, your chest rising and falling with the effort as Harry drank in the sight of your naked body with the same hunger you felt.

“On the floor. Now,” he demanded, pushing you down onto the hardwood.

You landed with a thud, the pain only egging you on, and your legs splayed open, your pussy already ready for him, and God, as he dropped to his knees it was like the earth stood still, Harry becoming the center of your world for that moment in time—a complete universe pulsing between his legs as he nudged your thighs wider, hands grasping hold of your hips as he positioned his throbbing cock at your slick entrance.

“You’re a freak like me, aren’t you?” he told you with a wicked grin, barely a question. “I could taste it—the way you shoved your tongue into my mouth. You’re a dirty girl who needs to be fucked hard, huh?”

“God, yes,” you whimpered, arching your back, desperate to be filled by him. “I need it, please, Harry...”

And then he was giving it to you, the whole fucking universe with one brutal thrust as he slammed inside you completely, stretching and filling you so fucking full that stars bloomed behind your eyes, and it was everything all at once, you thought as a broken moan tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion— pleasure and pain—rocketing through your entire body as he began to set a relentless pace, pounding with no lack of resistance right there on the floor of your entryway.

It was glorious, savage even, but this was what you needed as you clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he railed you into the ground, the floorboards creaking underneath you, echoing off the walls. It was unrestrained bliss, primitive fucking that had you holding on for dear life—no tenderness or foreplay, just pure carnal desire unleashed. You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his firm ass, urging him deeper, harder, faster.

And just as you were about to come, you pushed a hand into his shoulder, urging him onto his back, and he silently followed your wordless command, ripping out of your body with a force that had a gush smearing between your thighs as you climbed on top. 

Without wasting time, you straddled his hips, sinking down onto his cock with a guttural moan, your hands braced on his chest as you began to ride him. It didn’t take long before your hips were rolling and bucking, you were desperate to take him deep, find that same rhythm as your pussy clenched around his thick length with each bounce, and Harry’s hands found your waist, guiding your movements, urging you on as you chased your pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that,” he growled, his eyes focused on where your bodies met, watching as his cock disappeared inside you over and over. “Take what you need, my greedy little freak.”

And fuck if you didn’t almost come right then and there, and when you ground down onto him with that craze that was overtaking you, your breasts bounced with the exertion of each hopeless movement, because you were definitely greedy with it, lost in the sensation like you had no other sense of perception—lost in the way he stretched and filled you so perfectly, hitting that spot deep inside that had you spinning out of your mind, and your head fell back, eyes squeezed shut as you rode him harder, chasing that peak that was just at the tips of your fingers.

Harry’s hands moved to your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave marks as he thrust up into you, meeting your downward movements with his own powerful snap of his hips. “Touch yourself,” he forced, his voice strained, and you could tell he was holding back his own release. “I want to watch you come all over my cock.”

You were ready, could feel the tension building, a knot tightening in your lower belly, and you slid your hand down your body. When your fingers found your clit, you started rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud as you continued to ride him like a woman possessed—riding him like the fucking freak you were—not possessed, like a woman with need, and shit, the added stimulation was all it took, and with a few more thrusts, you were coming hard, your orgasm crashing over your vision as waves of ecstasy rippled through you.

“Fuck, Harry!” you cried out, your walls fluttering and clenching around him as you rode out your high, grinding down onto his cock to prolong the pleasure.

Harry pulled out then, bucking you up his body as a hand flew to his cock, and you forced your mouth to his, catching his moan of release. You felt his body twitch under yours, and you knew he was coming, knew you both got what you needed. When your eyes locked, something in his eyes had softened, gone new, and you realized you liked this part, too: the aftermath, the leftover heat that was settling over you both, that electric charge simmering to a low hum between you.

As you both lay there—exhausted in the entryway—Harry watched your shoulders tremble in the come-down, green eyes tracing the sweat on your sternum, the tremor in your thighs.

You had expected some awkwardness, a stagger up to the bathroom, maybe a quick goodbye, but Harry only reached for the balled-up hoodie and tucked it under your head as you adjusted your body next to his, completely spent, and he curled his arm beneath your neck, pulling you into him, your bodies melding together as his head fell back to the floor like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

And you nuzzled your cheek into his chest, breathing in the scent of him, already forming a list of all the places you wanted to fuck him in your apartment, because this was your platter and he was your feast, and somehow you were still hungry.

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @harryyloverrr @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @lizsogolden @spinninc @iloveharrystyles04 @mema10 @avas-queen-black @starshollowgazette @practistyles

Other One-Shots<-

[maudie-duan]

Wow!! Thanks @bethiegurl19 what a freaking compliment 💁🏽‍♀️💕

Hey, how are you? Are you still gonna write that request about pussy worship? 💞

Boyfriend!Harry x Girlfriend Fem!Reader x Domestic Life

When a trivial argument escalates into a relationship crisis, and something irreplaceable gets broken, reflection and honest vulnerability lead to a deeper understanding and a steamy reconnection.

Hard Warnings: Fighting, Filth, F***ing, and Fluff, this one gets a happy ending!😉

Story Here<-

I DID A DEEP EDIT FOR THIS STORY SO HERE THE REVISED VERSION!!!!!

I've had a lot more followers since I posted this story so I'm adding my taglist. Sorry if you've already this story!!

Taglist:🌻 @sassamanda77🌻 @harryyloverrr 🌻 @panini 🌻 @unfuckwitablenarry 🌻 @triski73 🌻 @haleyannaw🌻🌻 @dipmeinhoneyh 🌻 @lizsogolden 🌻 @spinninc 🌻 @iloveharrystyles04 🌻 @mema10 🌻 @avas-daniel 🌻

🌻 @starshollowgazette 🌻 @practistyles 🌻 @mads3502 🌻 @evas1ncenewyork 🌻 @indierockgirrl 🌻 @harrystyleshotwife 🌻🌻 @bethiegurl19 🌻 @fangirl509east 🌻 @makytka 🌻@sittinginthegardern🌻 @angeldavis777 🌻 @likea-silhouette

One Shot Masterlist<-

Taglist For Future Stories<-

[maudie-duan]

I’ll check by the end of my day! Working on one of the requests already!

REQUESTS ARE IN:

Just a little update for all my lovely humans that sent in requests! I was planning on making a list, but they're all so good... I kind of want them to be a surprise!!

But since you guys were so generous to send them in the first place let's vote:

You guys are amazing and I love you all!! 💞

[maudie-duan]

Reading this one after work!! 😏

10/10 Would Come Again: Frat!Harry Styles Blurb

Based (loosely) on this post right here

CW: Frat Harry, language, mentions of drinking (everyone is over 21 don’t worry) and some lowkey smut.

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy the little twist to this concept, it was written in one sitting and figured it would be a fun quick little blurb✨

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan @mads3502

Summary: Harry has something to prove after getting a bad review✨

Harry Styles fucks like he has something to prove, and in a way he does but not to himself or even the girl that’s currently moaning his name loud enough for the whole fraternity to hear. No, he has something to prove to the voice that he hears in the back of his head every time he has someone bent over with their face pressed into his mattress, the voice that says the same thing over and over every single time he gets someone up to his room.

“You Harry Styles are a lousy lover”

The voice that annoyingly enough belongs to you, the girl that he somehow managed to snatch up before any of his gross fraternity brothers got the chance and also the girl that he somehow managed to lose nearly just as fast almost two months ago. In Harry’s mind every harsh thrust of his hips, every hickey he leaves on someone’s neck and every girl that walks out of his room with a blissed out grin on their face is just another way of proving you wrong. But there’s only one small issue that he can’t seem to get over, you don’t care.

He’s even gone as far as walking a very wobbly legged sorority sister of yours home and made sure you saw the kiss he pressed to her flushed cheek and all you did was wave and tell him to ask Niall about the party the following night. It’s almost as if you have no clue the lengths Harry has been going through to try to show you how wrong you are about his capabilities as a lover. And maybe that’s because you don’t ask the girls he’s seen with about how their evening went or maybe because you haven’t been to his frat house recently to hear just how satisfied he makes his one night lovers.

So that’s exactly how he finds himself here, in his room during a house party he knows you’re at with a girl who’s name he only vaguely remembers starting with the letter N underneath him. Her legs are pressed to her chest and his name is falling from her parted lips like she’s reciting a prayer. Beads of sweat are starting to form on his forehead as he continues to pound his thick cock into her at a relentless pace.

“Oh yes Harry right there.” Her voice is strained as he feels her walls start to squeeze around him, a smirk works its way onto his face as she claws at his back. As he closes his eyes and slides out to the tip just to slide back in with a harsh thrust of his hips all he can hear and see is you and it turns his thrusts more determined as a groan from deep in his chest tumbles out of his mouth.

“Oh fuck.” Is all he says when he opens his eyes at the feeling of the girl beneath him coming undone, her eyes are rolling into the back of her head, her body is arched and her warm wet walls are clenching and pulsing around him.

It doesn’t take long for Harry to find his own release, but unlike his current visitor who is very vocal about how good it feels to come all over his cock he just grits his teeth and stills his hips as he finishes into the condom that’s securely wrapped around his shaft. When he rolls over onto his back the girl lets out a deep satisfied sigh making a lazy smile appear on Harry’s face.

“That was incredible.” The girl pants as she places a hand on her bare chest trying to catch her breath. Harry lets out a chuckle as he gets off the bed and disposes of his used latex before grabbing his boxers off the floor.

“Yeah? Well feel free to share that with the people downstairs.” He says it like he’s joking but in reality he wants the brunette girl who is feeling around the bed for her panties to do just that, go tell everyone at the party how good he fucked her so it’ll get back to you.

“Why would I do that? Then they’d want a piece of you and I’m not good with sharing.” Harry has to hold back rolling his eyes at her very poor attempt at trying to subtly tell him she wants more.

“Well love it’s not technically sharing if it’s not yours to begin with.” He explains as he slips his black t shirt over his head, running a hand through his messy curls before looking over at her. She has a slight pout to her face and is only half dressed with her hair now pulled back into a messy ponytail. “Don’t give me that look you knew exactly what you were getting into.” His voice is stern but not enough to be considered mean, he just needs her to understand what happened tonight won’t happen again, he doesn’t do repeat visitors.

“I mean yeah…but I had no idea it was going to be like that though…can’t blame me for wanting more.”

“Don’t blame you at all babe.” The wink he shoots her has her letting out a laugh as she finishes getting dressed while he slips back into his black skinny jeans with the holes in the knees. “But the answer is still no.”

“Fine.” She says with a huff as she walks over to his bedroom door. “See you down there?” Harry just gives her a nod and a small kiss to her pink cheek before she opens the door and makes her way down the hall to the stairs.

Harry stands there for a moment, trying to gather the strength he knows he’s going to need in order to walk down those stairs and into the sea of people that are more than likely trashing his already trashed frat house. More importantly he needs to ready himself for the off chance he runs into you, the person that as disgusting as it is hopes heard first hand everything that happened in his room just a few minutes ago or has heard about it from someone else. With one last run through of his hair and a small spray of cologne he walks out of his room and down the stairs.

“That has to be a new record.” Harry feels his heart begin to race as your sweet yet playful voice hits his ears the moment he enters the kitchen.

“Are you talking to me?” You roll your eyes as he turns around, his bright green eyes locking with yours and a finger pointing towards his chest. “Sorry I didn’t think we were on speaking terms?” He asks with a quirked brow but you see it, you see the way the corners of his mouth twitch like he wants to smile but isn’t allowing himself to.

“So that whole performance up there wasn’t your weird way of trying to tell me something?” You argue as you turn your attention to the over crowded counter so you can make yourself another drink. “Because that’s a form of speaking you know that right? It’s just not as direct as what we’re doing now.”

“God you really are a communications major aren’t you?” This has you letting out a laugh as you finally spot the bottle of vodka you were looking for. “But if you want the truth then-”

“The truth? From you? Hold on let me finish making my drink so I can find a place to sit because I just know this is going to knock me off my feet.” Harry glares at the side of your face as a teasing grin spreads across it while you pour some juice into your cup to go with your vodka.

“Are you insinuating that I don’t tell the truth?”

“Oh insinuating- that’s a big word for you.”

“Why are you always so annoying?” His tone is harsh but his words are tame compared to what he’s said to you before.

“You love it when I’m annoying.” You state casually as you turn your attention back to him, he lets out a scoff as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Makes you want to put me in my place.” Harry hates how your silly little smirk has his cock twitching in his jeans.

“Why would I bother trying to put you in your place?” You watch him take a small step towards you making you have to tilt your head up just a bit so you can keep your eyes locked with his. “You wouldn’t enjoy it and well-where’s the fun in that?” His voice is deep and teasing as he steps closer to you, letting you get a whiff of his cologne that’s covering up the light smell of sweat and sex.

“I wouldn’t enjoy it?” You furrow your brows as you look up at him with confusion written all over your face but Harry isn’t falling for it, because surely you remember telling him how bad he was in bed.

“Yeah since I’m such a lousy lover and all.” The loud laugh you let out has Harry’s eyes narrowing and a scowl taking over his face as he drops his arms down to his sides. “What’s so fun-”

“Harry you can’t be serious right now?”

“I am-that’s what you said right before you stormed off in the middle of that bonfire two months ago.”

“Yeah I said that because you had just told me you wanted to keep your options open-not get too serious so soon so I shouted the first thing that popped into my head.” Harry’s mouth drops open as you tell him the reason why you said what you did and how it essentially meant nothing to you while it changed everything for him.

“You-you didn’t mean it?” The words come out slowly making you let out a sigh and place your cup down on the counter next to you. “You don’t think-”

“No I didn’t mean it…I was hurt so I said something I thought would hurt you but I mean obviously you know you’re not a bad lover look at how happy Natalie looks over there.” Harry looks over his shoulder as you motion to the girl he was just in his room with who is walking around with a grin on her face.

“I was scared.” He admits softly once he turns back to you, the look on your face as his heart pounding in his chest. “I hadn’t ever felt the way I felt about you so I just…stopped it before it became too much and now…now I can’t even fuck someone else without your stupid voice in my head and when I close my eyes all I see is you and-” your lips crashing into his have the rest of his words long forgotten, his hands reach out to hold the sides of your face while yours grip onto his shirt as if you’re worried he’s going to walk away if you let go.

“We both know you love my voice.” You tease as you pull away, Harry’s thumbs gently brush over your cheekbones as he lets out a small chuckle.

“I do yeah.” You smile as he gives your lips a few little pecks before resting his forehead against yours. “Will you forgive me? For being so stupid and…everything else?”

“Yes Harry I’ll forgive you.” He feels a wave of relief wash over him as you bump the tip of your nose against his. “But I’m not stepping foot in your room until you’ve bleached every surface because I know you’ve been trying to prove yourself to me a little too much.”

“I mean I wouldn’t say that I’ve just been-”

“Plowing through my sorority sisters like it’s your last few weeks on earth?” He can’t help but laugh as you pull away from him, his hands resting on your hips while you run a hand through his messy curls.

“Okay…yeah I’ll disinfect my room don’t worry.”

“Good because rumor has it you’re a solid ten.” You tell him with a wink. “And I’d very much like to see if that’s true or not.”

[maudie-duan]

REQUESTS ARE IN:

Just a little update for all my lovely humans that sent in requests! I was planning on making a list, but they're all so good... I kind of want them to be a surprise!!

But since you guys were so generous to send them in the first place let's vote:

You guys are amazing and I love you all!! 💞

[maudie-duan]

I was thinking about these two little freaky babes today...

🥵🥵🥵

Summary: The second you slipped the hoodie over your head, you drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smell that clung to the fabric, inhaling him, his scent like a warm hug. It was intoxicating, made you dizzy with a want you could no longer hide.

A/N: I know it's Tuesday, but our little Monday Blurb got pushed due to life happening. This was a request from @lizsogolden. Based on the song TiO by Zane, and the LIDO Festival Pics.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning: Freaky Smut, playing off the lyrics. (a quick moment of consensual head pushing.) TiO (Take It Off)

The first thing you wanted was your mouth on his skin, his shirt coming off, your tongue dragging over his flesh like a fucking animal, as you breathed him in—the sure scent of salt and earth—you wanted the taste of him to spread across your taste buds like a goddamn feast, like the last meal you would ever need.

And that’s exactly how it happened. 

A shove through the door, you reaching for the hem of his shirt as he shimmyed out of his jacket, your eyes narrowing at the task at hand, because there was only this. As soon as he yanked his shirt over his head, your mouth dove in. Moving straight for the peak of his nipple, and you pressed your tongue flat against the firm tip, warm and soft, as you pushed against him, pulling a low groan from Harry, who was watching you with wild eyes, pupils blown, a mirror to what you felt—to what you wanted.

You quickly dropped to your knees, hands falling to his waist, pulling him closer—greedy, that’s what you felt, a greed rising, a need you had felt since the moment you saw him earlier that night—a frenzied need spurred on the moment he handed you his hoodie, your eyes catching on the exposed flesh of his tatted torso when he pulled the warm hoodie over his head, his shirt coming with it.

It was a glance, a fucking peek, but he caught you, and you couldn’t play it off.

But isn’t this how it all began? A peek, a glance, an action?

He was a friend of a friend. Someone you had met a handful of times, barely an exchange of words. At the time, it wasn’t really the setting, but neither was tonight, because there was no space to talk really, not over the noise and the crowd, you had only your awareness of his presence, only the passing seconds of a glance.

It was a last-minute decision, you coming to the festival. You had made other plans, and when they fell through, you accepted the invite. These were your creative friends; there was never a dull night with them. You knew it would be interesting, a fun night out, a good distraction. You hadn’t expected to see him there.

Harry.

There he was, standing on the opposite side, your two friends a barrier between you. You had forgotten how tall he was, how captivating his features were in any light. He looked good, too good, fuck, in a pair of red shorts that hugged his muscular thighs, of course showcasing the bulge of his package, because you had to look, why not, his short, shorts were practically offering-up a perfect view.

You couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting to him throughout the night, stealing glances when you thought no one was looking.

But he noticed. Of course, he noticed. 

Every time your gaze met his, he would smirk, a knowing smile that sent a tingle to the tips of your toes, as you bit back your smile. You saw it in the sparkle of his green eyes, the mischievous glint taunting you to play. It was like a game between the two of you, this secretive back and forth, filled with heated looks, this teasing presence that stole your focus entirely, because you couldn’t even remember any of the music that had come and went throughout the night. 

He had your imagination running wild. Dirty thoughts stacking up like tokens you would save for later—needy thoughts of ripping off those tight shorts, you running your hands over his hard body, of tasting every inch of his skin.

You wanted it, and so you would have it.

He was a pro, but you made him work for it, putting him to the test as the night wore on. But the evening was in your favor as the temperature began to drop. You knew you could use this to your advantage, and you couldn’t help but shiver in your thin t-shirt. You hugging yourself every time you all leaned in to talk, or you blankly taking in the band on stage, in those moments, you were playing hard to get. 

Dammit, the pull was there, the pull was evident, and you glimpsed it from the corner of your eye, Harry taking the bait because suddenly he was making his way towards you, trading places with your friend so he could stand by your side.

“Cold?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and he smiled, eyes trained on you as he wriggled out of his jacket, and when he casually tossed it onto the barrier, your heart started to race. 

You didn’t stand a chance, you standing there with hungry eyes trying to pretend like he had no effect on you, and as he pulled his hoodie over his head, it was almost too much, the motion causing his shirt to ride up and expose his toned abs—that fucking butterfly tattoo at the center of his chest on full display—and your breath seized in your throat as you caught a glimpse of his nipple, hard and pebbled as the night breeze picked up. 

Fuck. That was it. Your breaking point. You knew right then that you would do anything, absolutely anything, to get him alone. To feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin. You needed him, craved him with a fucking ferocity that was already chipping away at you—you knowing there would be no holding back once you got your hands on him.

Your eyes met as Harry’s arm reached out with the hoodie, that knowing grin ripping through you, and your gaze floated down his body, his fingers brushing against yours in the exchange, lingering just a second too long, long enough for you to watch him pull his t-shirt back down. 

The second you slipped the hoodie over your head, you drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smell that clung to the fabric, inhaling him, his scent like a warm hug. It was intoxicating, made you dizzy with a want you could no longer hide. The rest of the night was a blur of stolen touches—a touch on the elbow to get your attention, innocent, but laced with a beckoning desire that never left his eyes. 

Because every gesture was an invitation, every whisper a frenzied haze when his warm breath fanned past the shell of your ear, him getting as close as the public would allow, but that was okay, because it only made you want it more; only made the flame burn in the pit of your stomach as the anticipation pulsed between your thighs. By the time your friends were ready to leave, you were practically vibrating out of your skin, desperate to get him alone.

“My place?” you whispered as you hugged him goodbye, your lips grazing the lobe of his ear.

“Lead the way,” he rasped back, his large hand splayed possessively on your lower back.

And you knew this was it.

The drive to your apartment was an agonizing burn, both the longest and shortest ride of your life. Every red light felt like torture as adrenaline hummed over your skin at every stop, adding to the seconds, the minutes it would take to get him through your front door, and it all happened in a flash—a shove threw the door, your hands on his body as his clothes began to come off, and then you were on your knees, eyes level, the inked butterfly staring back at you.

There was no hesitation in the way you moved, licking and nipping at his heated flesh, relishing the salty tang on your tongue. “Fuck, you’re eager,” he huffed, already breathless, head thrown back as you scraped your teeth over his nipple again. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed against his skin. “Want you so bad. Couldn’t stop thinking about this—about having you…”

Then he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you bit down on the wing of the butterfly, making you laugh. Suddenly, his hands were in your hair, wrenching your head back to look into your eyes. “Show me how bad you want it—what you want to do to me.”

Without warning, Harry shoves your face into the hard bulge of his shorts, both hands on your head now as he buries you in his groin, and for effect, you struggle, letting out a muffled gasp, part real, part dramatic, but you wanted to lean into the bit, wanted this control over you. 

You liked the surprise, so why not play?

You started mouthing at the fabric of his shorts, hands sliding to his hips, gripping as you dragged your tongue over the bulge straining against the red material. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned as you worked to free his cock, pulling down the waistband of his shorts and boxers in one swift motion.

His thick, hard length sprung free, slapping against his stomach before your eager hands wrapped around the base, and like the greedy beast you were becoming, you licked your lips, ready to devour him whole, but Harry had other plans, and when he stepped out of his shorts, he grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet.

“Take it off,” he commanded, eyes dark with the lust you felt aching between your legs. “I want to watch you take it all off.”

And fuck, you didn’t need to be told twice, and in a frantic rush, you stripped off the borrowed hoodie and your own clothes until you were completely bare before him, your chest rising and falling with the effort as Harry drank in the sight of your naked body with the same hunger you felt.

“On the floor. Now,” he demanded, pushing you down onto the hardwood.

You landed with a thud, the pain only egging you on, and your legs splayed open, your pussy already ready for him, and God, as he dropped to his knees it was like the earth stood still, Harry becoming the center of your world for that moment in time—a complete universe pulsing between his legs as he nudged your thighs wider, hands grasping hold of your hips as he positioned his throbbing cock at your slick entrance.

“You’re a freak like me, aren’t you?” he told you with a wicked grin, barely a question. “I could taste it—the way you shoved your tongue into my mouth. You’re a dirty girl who needs to be fucked hard, huh?”

“God, yes,” you whimpered, arching your back, desperate to be filled by him. “I need it, please, Harry...”

And then he was giving it to you, the whole fucking universe with one brutal thrust as he slammed inside you completely, stretching and filling you so fucking full that stars bloomed behind your eyes, and it was everything all at once, you thought as a broken moan tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion— pleasure and pain—rocketing through your entire body as he began to set a relentless pace, pounding with no lack of resistance right there on the floor of your entryway.

It was glorious, savage even, but this was what you needed as you clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he railed you into the ground, the floorboards creaking underneath you, echoing off the walls. It was unrestrained bliss, primitive fucking that had you holding on for dear life—no tenderness or foreplay, just pure carnal desire unleashed. You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his firm ass, urging him deeper, harder, faster.

And just as you were about to come, you pushed a hand into his shoulder, urging him onto his back, and he silently followed your wordless command, ripping out of your body with a force that had a gush smearing between your thighs as you climbed on top. 

Without wasting time, you straddled his hips, sinking down onto his cock with a guttural moan, your hands braced on his chest as you began to ride him. It didn’t take long before your hips were rolling and bucking, you were desperate to take him deep, find that same rhythm as your pussy clenched around his thick length with each bounce, and Harry’s hands found your waist, guiding your movements, urging you on as you chased your pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that,” he growled, his eyes focused on where your bodies met, watching as his cock disappeared inside you over and over. “Take what you need, my greedy little freak.”

And fuck if you didn’t almost come right then and there, and when you ground down onto him with that craze that was overtaking you, your breasts bounced with the exertion of each hopeless movement, because you were definitely greedy with it, lost in the sensation like you had no other sense of perception—lost in the way he stretched and filled you so perfectly, hitting that spot deep inside that had you spinning out of your mind, and your head fell back, eyes squeezed shut as you rode him harder, chasing that peak that was just at the tips of your fingers.

Harry’s hands moved to your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave marks as he thrust up into you, meeting your downward movements with his own powerful snap of his hips. “Touch yourself,” he forced, his voice strained, and you could tell he was holding back his own release. “I want to watch you come all over my cock.”

You were ready, could feel the tension building, a knot tightening in your lower belly, and you slid your hand down your body. When your fingers found your clit, you started rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud as you continued to ride him like a woman possessed—riding him like the fucking freak you were—not possessed, like a woman with need, and shit, the added stimulation was all it took, and with a few more thrusts, you were coming hard, your orgasm crashing over your vision as waves of ecstasy rippled through you.

“Fuck, Harry!” you cried out, your walls fluttering and clenching around him as you rode out your high, grinding down onto his cock to prolong the pleasure.

Harry pulled out then, bucking you up his body as a hand flew to his cock, and you forced your mouth to his, catching his moan of release. You felt his body twitch under yours, and you knew he was coming, knew you both got what you needed. When your eyes locked, something in his eyes had softened, gone new, and you realized you liked this part, too: the aftermath, the leftover heat that was settling over you both, that electric charge simmering to a low hum between you.

As you both lay there—exhausted in the entryway—Harry watched your shoulders tremble in the come-down, green eyes tracing the sweat on your sternum, the tremor in your thighs.

You had expected some awkwardness, a stagger up to the bathroom, maybe a quick goodbye, but Harry only reached for the balled-up hoodie and tucked it under your head as you adjusted your body next to his, completely spent, and he curled his arm beneath your neck, pulling you into him, your bodies melding together as his head fell back to the floor like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

And you nuzzled your cheek into his chest, breathing in the scent of him, already forming a list of all the places you wanted to fuck him in your apartment, because this was your platter and he was your feast, and somehow you were still hungry.

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @harryyloverrr @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @lizsogolden @spinninc @iloveharrystyles04 @mema10 @avas-queen-black @starshollowgazette @practistyles

Other One-Shots<-

[maudie-duan]

REQUESTS ARE IN:

Just a little update for all my lovely humans that sent in requests! I was planning on making a list, but they're all so good... I kind of want them to be a surprise!!

But since you guys were so generous to send them in the first place let's vote:

You guys are amazing and I love you all!! 💞

[maudie-duan]

Yes! @harrywavycurly This is a good weekly reminder! 😂 kudos to those that already do this because there's a lot of you slaying it with the reblogs!!

Big thanks to all you cuties!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

I’m also reblogging your tags because they're funny!!

This is your weekly reminder that authors are people with feelings and you know the feeling they love the most? Getting their work reblogged, so make their day and reblog that fic you just read ✨

[maudie-duan]

I’m dumb maybe but what is a check in?

Noooo!!!! Don’t feel dumb! I'm still fairly new to the fanfic writing world, so I am also still learning.

To the best of my knowledge, I would say that a check-in is when someone sends a request based on a specific prompt from a story that has already been written. The prompt can be based on whatever curiosity struck them while reading the story. Whether that's asking for a deeper dive into a moment in the story or asking for specific scenes or scenarios.

Also, I could be completely wrong! So hopefully this is correct and if there's any writers out there with better input let me know if I fucked up!

🫣😂🙃

Thanks for this ask and feeling comfortable enough to reach out! I hope this helps! 🥰

[maudie-duan]

How old are you?? What are your favorite things to do in your free time?

Hey love! 💕

Ummm, let's just say I’m old enough to call myself a millennial...🫣🙃 Not that I always like to claim that!! I would say I love cooking, reading, music, and honestly writing has been my biggest hobby lately…😅 it has definitely taken up most of my free time.

Thanks for asking! This was a pleasant surprise!

💋💋💋

[maudie-duan]

Please do a check in with coffeeshopowner!rry that you did with ‘Juno’ it was incredible I need an update with them 😩🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hey babe! Love those two from Juno! Can you think of anything you're wanting to see from them? Let me know! Thanks for reaching out!! Excited about this one!

[maudie-duan]

Check in for the longest goodbye and changes !!😊😊

Okay! I love both of these stories greatly! But I do have to be honest and say that I have some plans for Changes! So if you have something specific about the other, any kind of check-in or curiosity about those two cuties. I would love to go from there. Great choices by the way! Love that you've read those! 🥰

[maudie-duan]

CLOSING REQUESTS!!

Alright guys!! You did it! Amazing!! We’ve met our goal! I have 10 asks in. I’m closing my request! Thanks again to those who participated. I will be making a list and posting it later. If by some chance you missed your chance. Don't hesitate to reach out!!

Love you all so much!! 💋

Attention Lovelies: 👀

I'm working on my last request and then I'm caught up!

If you guys have a story that you love that I've written and want a specific check in or if you simply have a request for a story you want brought to life, hit me up! 💁🏽‍♀

Requests open -> Ask Here <-

All requests welcome, I like a challenge!

Taglist: 🌻 @sassamanda77🌻 @harryyloverrr 🌻 @panini 🌻 @unfuckwitablenarry 🌻 @triski73 🌻 @haleyannaw🌻🌻 @dipmeinhoneyh 🌻 @lizsogolden 🌻 @spinninc 🌻 @iloveharrystyles04 🌻 @mema10 🌻

🌻 @avas-daniel 🌻🌻 @starshollowgazette 🌻 @practistyles 🌻 @mads3502 🌻 @evas1ncenewyork 🌻 @indierockgirrl 🌻 @harrystyleshotwife 🌻🌻 @bethiegurl19 🌻 @fangirl509east 🌻 @makytka 🌻@sittinginthegardern 🌻 @angeldavis777 🌻 @osorto 🌻 @likea-silhouette 🌻

One Shot Masterlist<-

If you want to be added to my Taglist<-

[maudie-duan]

😂😂😂

Thanks for sharing!! You crack me up!!!

I’m up to seven requests! I’m closing them at 10! That should be more than enough to keep me busy for a little while! 😌 shout out to those who have already sent some! They're alllllll so good!

Attention Lovelies: 👀

I'm working on my last request and then I'm caught up!

If you guys have a story that you love that I've written and want a specific check in or if you simply have a request for a story you want brought to life, hit me up! 💁🏽‍♀

Requests open -> Ask Here <-

All requests welcome, I like a challenge!

Taglist: 🌻 @sassamanda77🌻 @harryyloverrr 🌻 @panini 🌻 @unfuckwitablenarry 🌻 @triski73 🌻 @haleyannaw🌻🌻 @dipmeinhoneyh 🌻 @lizsogolden 🌻 @spinninc 🌻 @iloveharrystyles04 🌻 @mema10 🌻

🌻 @avas-daniel 🌻🌻 @starshollowgazette 🌻 @practistyles 🌻 @mads3502 🌻 @evas1ncenewyork 🌻 @indierockgirrl 🌻 @harrystyleshotwife 🌻🌻 @bethiegurl19 🌻 @fangirl509east 🌻 @makytka 🌻@sittinginthegardern 🌻 @angeldavis777 🌻 @osorto 🌻 @likea-silhouette 🌻

One Shot Masterlist<-

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[maudie-duan]

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[maudie-duan]

Thanks kindly @goldengirlstyles for sharing!! 💞

Summary: "The shittest part was that you could tell he was trying. You could see it in the way his hands moved as he spoke, the way he kept creating these little outs for you, these little escape clauses built into his requests, and you knew it should have made you feel loved, but instead, it was making you feel like a burden, another feeling you couldn’t shake lately."

Based on this request<- Thanks @bethiegurl19 I needed to get in a little Angst. Hope this was fluffy enough for you... 😬

Word count: 4k

Warnings: None really, Angst/Fluff, Mentions of Sex, No Smut.

“So I was thinking we could finally do that dinner with Mitch and Sarah tonight if you’re up for it?”

And you listened with your eyes closed, Harry’s voice drifting across the bedroom, soft, yet tentative in the way he was testing the waters before diving in, and you opened your eyes, watching him from your position on the bed, sheet clutched to your bare chest, as he pulled on his joggers with the causal grace of a man who had very little to do today, and now it was just a reminder of how late you were running.

“I know we’ve rescheduled three times already, and they’re being really understanding about it, but...” He turned to face you then, running a hand through his messy, post-sex hair. “With our schedules, if we don’t do it tonight, there’s literally no other opening for the next two weeks… Maybe even three.”

And as your eyes met his, the statement hung suspended between you like a weight on a string, swaying back and forth, threatening to drop. Yet that wasn’t even the worst of it because your mind was already splintering into a thousand different directions as it began its usual frantic loop.

All you could think about was the test results you were supposed to be getting back on Thursday... Or was it Friday? No… The nurse definitely said Thursday… but sometimes labs run behind, and fuck, what if they call while you’re at dinner? What if they leave a voicemail with bad news—

“Love?” Harry nudges, pulling you back, concern creasing between his brows, and he moved closer to the bed, one knee pressing into the mattress as he slipped a T-shirt over his head. “You alright?”

You hesitated, but nodded a quick nod. “Yeah, just... thinking about work…”

Another Lie…Well, half-lie… kinda. Because work was there too, wasn’t it? Pressing against your fucking skull like a migraine you couldn’t shake. Twenty-seven emails from yesterday alone: Mark’s quarterly report that still needed your approval. The Hudson account that was hemorrhaging shit-loads of money because no one knew how to handle them like your boss, and unfortunately, your boss was somewhere in Bali “trying to find her center’ for the next month while leaving you to play captain of a ship you had never fully learned to steer.

“The dinner,” Harry continued, and God, why did he have to use that voice? That gentle tone, the one that felt like he was trying to coax a cat from under the bed, and for some reason, it made you want to bare your teeth. “We could make it early. Six-thirty maybe? That way you could still get home at a decent time, even do some work if you need to...”

The shittest part was that you could tell he was trying. You could see it in the way his hands moved as he spoke, the way he kept creating these little outs for you, these little escape clauses built into his requests, and you knew it should have made you feel loved, but instead, it was making you feel like a burden, another feeling you couldn’t shake lately.

You shifted on the bed, your thighs aching slightly with the movement… a reminder of that morning’s earlier activities as your mind flashed back to you under Harry, legs gripping him tight. What a fucking performance, you thought, and god, the stupid sounds you had made. Did Harry really think they were real? The outrageous crescendo you had staged, like a director waiting for the show to end, and in all the time you had dated Harry. You had never done that before. Never felt the need to fake your own orgasm just to move things along, just to get him off you—no, that wasn’t quite it… It wasn’t like he climbed on top of you like some overbearing weight. You had definitely been willing. Present even… but just... empty.

But why did it matter? Because you had wanted to make him feel good, wanted to give him something when everything else in your life felt like taking. But now, as you lie here naked, the thought sank to the pit of your stomach like gravel… each tiny pebble a lie just adding to the collection gathering inside you. 

“I just think it would be nice…” Harry said, sitting fully on the bed now, his hand resting on your knee through the sheet as his thumb drew small circles into the soft fabric. “We haven’t seen them properly in ages. And you could use a break, yeah? You’ve been working yourself to the bone lately.”

A break? Was dinner with another couple a break? Or was it just another obligation? Like you sitting across from Mitch and hearing about their recording sessions and their perfect little life wouldn’t feel like drowning. Was it possible to drown in reverse? Because that’s what that would feel like—all the water rushing up your throat instead of down, stealing all the words you would be forcing yourself to give.

And that would definitely be another obligation.

The forced conversations alone.

“What time do you need to be at work?” Harry finally asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand, and you took in his expression as his eyes widened slightly. “Oh, shit. It’s already half eight. Don’t you usually—”

“Yes—” And the word comes out sharp, bitter on your tongue as you softened it with a forced smile. “Yes, I’m late...”

“Why didn’t you say? We could have—” Then he gestures vaguely at the rumpled sheets, the evidence still fragrant in the air. “You know I wouldn’t have minded waiting.”

But the thing about it was that you had been the one who initiated it, hadn’t you? When you reached for him in that desperate way, that meant ‘please make me feel something other than this crushing weight.’ ‘Please remind me I’m more than all the awful thoughts and certainty that I’m going to fail at everything.’ and yes, that is a lot to ask from one simple act, but you just wanted to feel him near, wanted to forget everything, even just for a moment. 

“It’s fine,” you said, already sliding out of bed, sheet wrapped around you tight, because now you were in your head about the whole thing even more, feeling guilty, hoping he didn’t feel used—

“So tonight? Six-thirty?” you follow up.

“Only if you’re sure.” And now he was watching, those green eyes taking you in carefully, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle missing its pieces. “We can absolutely reschedule if—”

“I said it’s fine, Harry—”

And fuck, here was that guilt you thought as the words landed harder than you meant them to, and you observed as he absorbed them, saw the tiny flinch he tried to hide, and your chest tightened, wishing you could take back the bite.

Now, all you could do was just add it to the growing list… 

How could you really be snapping at the one person who’s trying? Because god, he is trying so hard. All the little things like bringing you tea in the morning without being asked, doing your laundry without mentioning it. Leaving those little notes in random places he knows you’ll find, even though you haven’t acknowledged them, because acknowledging them would mean admitting how badly you actually needed them, because how do you tell someone that everything they do is the glue that’s holding you together. 

“Okay,” he said calmly. “Six-thirty it is… I’ll text them now.”

You hadn’t even made it three steps toward the bathroom before his voice stopped you again…

“I love you, darling… You know I’m always here if you need to talk…”

Three simple words was all you would have to say back, yet his words hit like an arrow in the back as you clutched at the door frame with white knuckles.

“Love you too,” you forced, and then you were through the door, slamming it harder than necessary, but you had to get away, needed to be alone with your racing thoughts.

If you were going to drown in the thoughts of your own despair, why not do it on your own terms… so you turned the shower on as hot as it would go, watching as the mist billowed around the mirror, and you eyed the steam as it fogged over the glass, slowly erasing your reflection piece by piece. Your phone sat on the counter, silent but somehow louder than ever—no missed calls. No test results. Just the wretched guarantee of yet another day of carrying the weight of everything you were pretending was okay.

Because nothing was okay anymore, and what was worse was that you could have just said no to the sex. Could have said no to dinner. Could have said no to any of it. But that’s the thing about drowning slowly, right? It’s a conscious act of saying yes to the water even as it fills your lungs.

 By 10 AM, the office reeked of burnt coffee and desperation. That morning, you had barely settled into your chair when the fucking avalanche of bullshit questions began. First, it was Katie from accounting, hovering at your desk with expense reports that “absolutely needed approval by noon,” Bullshit… 

Then Marcus was down your neck with his questions about the Henderson presentation, the one your boss usually handled with her eyes closed, the one he normally sat in on and was more than capable of handling, but for some reason he couldn’t just fucking grow a pair and deal with it himself, because if you were being honest he knew more than you did on the case, so what could you do? 

And by the time Jennifer appeared with her third stupid fucking “quick question” of the morning, you had given up any pretense of catching up on those twenty-seven emails that were looming over your head. That was when your phone buzzed on the desk—Harry:

H: Ordered sushi from that one place you like. I was going to order spaghetti and meatballs, but figured you wouldn’t have time to enjoy it. Should be arriving around 12:30. Please make time to eat it, love. I know you’re busy.

All you could do was stare at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. It was a simple kindness, yet it had your throat tight, and before you could respond, another notification popped up:

H: And before you say you’re not hungry, you had exactly one bite of toast this morning. I counted.

A laugh escaped then, more of an exhale than a sound, but of course, he had counted. Of course, he had noticed, and as you typed back a quick heart emoji, because that was all you could manage, before Marcus was appearing at the door with printouts this time—

“Sorry, just one more thing—”

By 2:57, your desk looked like a paper factory had exploded—post-its in three different colors, mapping out little fires that needed extinguishing: Pink for urgent, yellow for less urgent, and for kicks and giggles, things that would become urgent if ignored were stuck with blue, and just as you were calculating whether you could realistically clone yourself, your office phone rang.

The caller’s name made your stomach flip… it was your boss’s name flashing across the screen, and suddenly it felt like the lifeline you had been waiting to catch. 

“Oh, hey, thank god—” you answered, already pulling up a running list of questions you had been waiting for this very moment to release. 

“Hi sweetie!” But you knew right away from the sound of her distant voice that this wasn’t going to work in your favor as wind crackled through the like. “Just wanted to check in! How’s everything going?”

And fuck, if you only had this small window, where did you even start? You thought, gripping the phone tighter. “Actually, I’m glad you called. The Henderson account is—”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re handling it beautifully! You always do. Listen, I’m about to head into this amazing sound bath meditation, but I wanted to touch base...”

Somehow her words spilled out of her like honey, sticky and relaxed, while you watched your computer screen fill with new email notifications. You knew she had no genuine interest in what you had to say as she told you about her villa’s infinity pool, how the sunrise looked different in Bali, how she had “found herself” during yoga, which all sounded so temporary because how do you “find” yourself during a fucking yoga class?

“Wow… That all sounds amazing…” You interrupted as desperation crept in. “Listen, about the quarterly reports that are due Friday. I don’t seem to have access to the—”

“Oh, sweetie, you’ll figure it out! That’s why I knew I could leave everything in your capable hands. You’re so good under pressure!”

Under pressure, you repeated in your mind, like pressure was some kind of fucking location, a place you lived now, the single word taking up residence: Population: you.

“But I really need—”

“Oops, they’re calling us in! Remember to breathe, darling. The universe always provides!” She quoted right before the line went dead.

And you set the phone down with an undeserved calm, fighting the urge to hurl it across the goddamn room, because what the actual fuck? The universe always provides? You couldn’t help the dry laugh leaving your mouth, because the universe wasn’t giving jack shit except more emails and a boss who thought Mercury in retrograde was a valid reason to miss board meetings, and just as you were releasing a slur of words on the topic under your breath, the desk phone rang again, except this time it was the medical center’s number, and the sight made your blood run cold.

“Miss? This is Maria from Dr. Brock’s office. I’m calling about your test results...”

Your heart was already hammering against your ribs, as a haze of thoughts fogged over your mind. This was it—

“I’m so sorry, but there’s been a delay at the lab. We won’t have your results until early next week now. Monday at the earliest, possibly Tuesday.”

Her words sent a mix of emotions coursing through you—a sense of relief and frustration hitting all at once —a hefty one-two punch that left you breathless. Now, there would be more waiting and stress, but at least knowing this part would have meant you could plan your next step. Now there would be more days of carrying the agonizing terror… and here were those pebbles slowly weighing you down.

“That’s... fine,” you answered, though fine was far from what you felt.

“We’ll call as soon as they come in. Try not to worry!”

“Try not to worry…” Sure. Hmmm… maybe this could go on the list just right after ‘achieving world peace’ and ‘finding the fountain of youth.’

Then your cell phone buzzed again on your desk:

H: Coffee incoming at 3. I know you usually get your Caramel Macchiato, but they had an Iced Matcha with Brown Sugar cold foam listed, and that seemed like a fun little treat. You’ll have to tell me how good it tastes. 

And then another: 

H: How’s your day going, love? 

Was it strange that just that message alone made you want to cry, your vision blurring slightly as you stared at the screen? How was your day going? It seemed like an easy question, but should you be honest? Should you tell him that your boss was “finding herself” in a bullshit yoga class while you were stuck here, drowning in her responsibilities? Or what about the test results—the ones that might confirm your worst genetic fears—had gotten delayed, leaving you to stew in the anxiety of yet another long weekend, you thought, as Jennifer popped in with her ninth “urgent” question of the day.

They were all idiots. 

Surely we were all capable of doing our own jobs:

Y/N: Drowning, but the water’s warm at least.

H: Want me to come be your life vest? 

Y/N: Just keep the coffee coming. You’re an angel. I love you so much. 

H: Always, and I love you too, 

When your drink arrived at 3:07, perfectly iced, your name was spelled wrong on the cup, but everything else was exactly right. The delivery guy also handed you a small bag you weren’t expecting—inside, a chocolate croissant from the bakery you had mentioned loving exactly one fucking time, a few weeks ago, but Harry must have remembered. 

The gesture was so Harry, so thoughtful, that you had to lock yourself in the bathroom stall and press the palms of your hands against your eyes until the burning stopped—until you were strong enough to leave the bathroom and bear the two hours left of this prison sentence of a job, because that’s what it had become, and you were shackled to it. 

Later, the restaurant’s valet loomed before you in the early evening light, as you sat frozen in the passenger seat, watching other couples drift past the car window, arms linked with their partners, everyone polished and perfectly put together. Yet, here you were, feeling light years away, in an outfit you forced yourself to like. 

Now, as you stalled in your seat, everything felt wrong, like suddenly you were wearing someone else’s skin.

Harry had been quiet for most of the drive. Of course, he had tried—pointing out a cute dog at a crosswalk, mentioning something about the new album—but your responses had been brief, your mind completely distracted, and eventually, he had stopped trying. Now his silence felt heavier than any words that could have been spoken, another weight added to your already breaking back, and you just didn’t think you could take another thing.

“Ready?” he asked softly, his hand readying to pull the door handle.

You gave him a silent nod, reaching for yours, fingers curling around the cool metal. Through the restaurant window, you could see Mitch and Sarah already seated, Sarah’s laugh visible even from here, her head thrown back at something Mitch was saying. They looked so easy together—not a single thing complicated.

And your hand froze on the handle, unmoving as anxiety flooded you.

“Love?” Harry called out, moving closer, and he had turned in his seat to face you now. “Everything okay?”

And that was it… that was all you needed to crack the stone facade you had been masking—a simple question, asked with such delicate concern, was all that it took to fracture the dam that was about to burst inside you.

“No,” you breathed, and then it all came flooding out. “No, nothing’s okay. Nothing has been okay for weeks, and I can’t—I can’t do this anymore, Harry. I can’t sit through dinner and pretend like I’m not falling apart when everything inside me feels shitty.”

You knew the tears would come, and here they were spilling over the rim of your eyes, fast and hot, and there went your mascara, but you didn’t care… Let it leave black rivers down your cheeks, because you couldn’t stop the tears streaming now.

Nor did you want to. 

“My boss is in fucking Bali finding herself while I’m drowning in work I don’t know how to do. The test results got delayed, so now I get to spend another fucking weekend wondering if I’m going to end up like my mom, wondering if there’s a ticking time bomb in my DNA just waiting to—” Then your voice cracked. “And this morning, God, Harry, I need to tell you something…”

And when your eyes roamed over him, he was so still, just watching you with those green eyes, so fucking full of patience, and it only seemed to break you more. 

“I faked it,” you whispered, the confession scraping your throat on the way out. “This morning. I faked my orgasm, and I’ve never—in two years, I’ve never done that with you because God, baby, our sex is amazing, I swear on everything. It’s not you, it’s me. I just felt so empty, and I wanted to make you happy, but I couldn’t get out of my own freaking head and—”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

And you blinked, certain you had definitely misheard. “What?”

You watched as a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “For faking it… And to be honest, you really sold it too—that little gasp at the end? Chef’s kisses, love. Gave me such a confidence boost before my meeting today.”

“Harry, I’m being serious—”

“So am I.” And he reached over, thumbs gently wiping the tears from your cheeks, smearing your makeup even more. “You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who I know is carrying the entire world on her shoulders… and yet you still manage to think about making me feel good. That’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

“I’m a mess,” you tried weakly.

“Yeah, you are,” he agreed, but somehow it didn’t sting. “A beautiful, brilliant, badass mess who’s been keeping a whole company running while her boss does downward dog in Bali. Who’s also waiting for scary test results with more grace than anyone should have to have… And somehow you still remember to water the plants and feed the neighbor’s cat and text my mum back when I forget.”

He leaned closer then, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You fake orgasms like a pro, you make the best Sunday roasts, you reorganized my entire sock drawer by color last month, which, honestly, changed my life. You laugh at my terrible jokes, you let me be the little spoon when I need it, and you’re the only person I know who can make stress look sexy.”

And that last line made you laugh. “Stress is never sexy, Harry…”

“But YOU are sexy.” He tells you, pulling back, and you watch as he fishes out his phone. “Now listen, I’m texting Mitch. Gonna rain check on dinner. Tell them something’s come up.”

“Harry, we can’t just—”

“Watch me.” And he’s already typing. “There. Done. And now...” He tells you, using his sleeve to wipe the snot from your nose with absolutely no hesitation, “We’re going home. I’m going to run you a bath so hot you’ll feel like a fancy soup with one of those bath bomb thingies... We’ll order spaghetti and meatballs from the place that has that really good sauce. I’ll even open that stupidly expensive wine you’ve been wanting to save for a special occasion because, love, surviving this day is special enough…you’re more than special enough.”

And as he spoke, you held your breath trying to keep the sobs at bay, as your chest tightened, but in a different way now. “That sounds...” You attempted.

“And then,” he continued, cupping your face in his hands, “We’re going to do whatever you want. Watch reality TV, online shop for things we don’t need, organize the junk drawer… doesn’t matter to me because tonight’s going to be all about you.”

“Amazing,” you whimpered, your voice wobbly, but it was true. “That sounds amazing.”

He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then down your damp cheek, stopping right by your mouth. “Anything else you want to do?” He breathed. 

And for the first time since you had gotten in the car, you felt yourself actually smile, small nonetheless, but it was as real as the joy you felt rising in your bones.

“How about a redo for this morning?”

Harry’s grin came quickly, a soft wickedness playing at his features. “Now that’s the best idea you’ve had all day. No faking required this time, yeah? I’ve clearly got some confidence to rebuild...”

“Your confidence is fine,” you laughed, the sound still watery.

“Is it though?” And then he started the car, throwing a dramatic look of concern your way. “Christ, that gasp at the end really was convincing… Had me fooled completely, darling. We might need several redos just to be sure...”

And just like that, everything shifted in your mind… the weight wasn’t gone, you knew that—not entirely, of course, but you knew the test results would still be delayed, work would still be a disaster tomorrow, your boss would still be bullshitting in Bali. But for the first time in weeks, sitting there in Harry’s car, mascara-streaked and snotty, you felt something you hadn’t in weeks…

Fucking light enough to float, and that was enough for now.

Taglist: 🌻 @sassamanda77🌻 @harryyloverrr 🌻 @panini 🌻 @unfuckwitablenarry 🌻 @triski73 🌻 @haleyannaw🌻🌻 @dipmeinhoneyh 🌻 @lizsogolden 🌻 @spinninc 🌻 @iloveharrystyles04 🌻 @mema10 🌻

🌻 @avas-daniel 🌻🌻 @starshollowgazette 🌻 @practistyles 🌻 @mads3502 🌻 @evas1ncenewyork 🌻 @indierockgirrl 🌻 @harrystyleshotwife 🌻🌻 @bethiegurl19 🌻 @fangirl509east 🌻 @makytka 🌻@sittinginthegardern 🌻 @angeldavis777 🌻 @osorto 🌻 @likea-silhouette 🌻

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