absolute enthusiasm

The Exam Continues

See This post for the first part.

Gryffindor: “Almost there! We just have to get past the pixies. You ready Slytherin?”

Slytherin: “Oh no! I am done being flown, frozen, charmed, hexed, jinxed… It’s Ravenclaw’s turn.”

Ravenclaw: “Uh… you know actually I would be more useful by your side in case something happens and we need another solution.”

*Everyone turns to look at Hufflepuff*

Hufflepuff: “I knew this moment would come…”

Gryffindor: “Great! So here’s the plan.”

*a few minutes later*

Gryffindor: “All set?”

Hufflepuff: “As I’ll ever be.”

Slytherin: *Grinning* “Don’t you trust him?”

Hufflepuff: *with less enthusiasm* “I absolutely trust him.”

Ravenclaw: *also grinning* “You’re sure he’s not some sort of crazy person, right? ”

Hufflepuff: *now really trying to convince himself* “I absolutely trust him.”

sketchy-scribs-n-doods  asked:

REVERSE I MAYBE SCREAMED AT THE GREEN LIGHT JFC I'M A HUGE LIT. AND SYMBOLISM NERD I'M GONNA!! Idk if anyone has commented on it bc I just scrolled straight back up to your ask box, but it's from the Great Gatsby, and omfg it's about hope and dreams, but like, specifically the unattainable dreams of the past. I remember that it also could be connected to Gatsby trying to get Daisy being his dream, but in the end he's just trying to recreate his past with her?? And I'm just!!!! (1 of ?)

(2 of 2) IT FITS DARK AND PEEVILS SO WELL UM?? It’s been awhile since I read the book, so please correct me if I’m wrong but, the green light symbolized his desire for Daisy, yea? And in turn that desire was also a desire for his past with her? There was also a bunch of stuff about social power & wealth and how that fit in and stuff but aH DUDE I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND REFERENCES OMFG IT’S ALL SO GOOD HNNNN- My apologies if I got anything wrong, it’s been awhile since English in grade 9 ehe ^^“ ♡             

Your enthusiasm is absolutely adorable, and you’ve made my day, cutie pie! Yes! This is exactly what I was going for when I made that reference, as you said “the unattainable dreams of the past.” Specifically in this instance, the dreams of being with someone he’s lost due to his weaknesses before.

For Gatsby, it was his low social class and poverty. For Dark, it was the fact that he wasn’t powerful enough to save her.

Gatsby sold his soul to get wealth. Dark sold his soul to get power. Both want to get back what they lost, but is it even possible?

*takes a bow* And that, cutie pies, is how you get Reverse ranting about books and symbolism for three hours nonstop. I won’t bore you with all my ramblings, but I do LOVE symbolism. And I’m really glad you got what I was trying to say here!! XD

雇われヒーロの日常 (Yatoware Hero no Nichijou)

Milky Chain has announced their latest series! In a world with heroes and villains, here are the stories depicting the daily lives of two hired heroes and a villain…

Synopsis (Paraphrased):

It turns out that the beloved heroes of the world are in fact hired to do so!?

The hero Barry, his partner Bell, and the villain James… these three individuals have conflicts of their own on a day to day basis, but work at night to show the world the concept of justice—or something like that.

But what of their daily lives?

Character synopses after the cut!

Keep reading

Just Admit It *smut*

Author: obrosey-af

Characters: reader x Stiles

Word count: 3,234

Warnings: literally just sex, nothing intense

Thank you tazzmariee for the request, I hope you like it(:

A/N: I’ve been really into writing smut that isn’t as rough as I usually write it lately, so let me know if you’re into that. As usual, let ya girl know whatchya think. -Er  *Masterlist*

Originally posted by moan-s

One by one, your friends trickle in thru the main doors of Beacon Hills High. Your morning routine is pretty simple. Everyone goes to their lockers right away, whoever is done first goes to the closest friend and so on. Kira slammed her locker door and, being the tiny ball of energy she was this early in the morning, skipped over to you, greeting you with her signature bear hug. The gang met up at Scott’s locker and the morning banter began.

“I’m pretty sure I failed the econ test yesterday,” you sighed as you picked at your nail beds.

“There were so many numbers and problems in it, I felt like it was a math test,” Kira whined.

“Wait, that wasn’t math class?” Isaac walks up behind, completely bewildered.

Everyone laughed just as Stiles came strolling in. His hair was a disheveled mess, like usual, and his backpack hung low on one shoulder as he fumbled through it, nearly running into Scott.

“Hey man, wake up late?” Scott joked, basically stating the obvious.

“Huh? Uh, yeah, kinda,” Stiles laughed slightly, still looking through his bag.

When he looked up, he locked eyes with you. You smiled shyly, like you always have around him, and he made no facial expression, per usual.

“Hi Stiles,” you decided to pipe up for once instead of smiling nervously and looking away.

“Yeah, hey y/n,” he said briskly before turning his attention to, big surprise, Lydia.

You’ve had a crush on Stiles for a few months now and you’ve been friends for much longer than that. However, Stiles has been paying so much more attention to Lydia and paying significantly less attention to you. Of course you knew Stiles didn’t like you the way you liked him, it was obvious to anyone with eyes and common sense. He liked Lydia. It’s always been Lydia.

“Hey Lyds,” Stiles chimed, his attitude increasing immensely as he slung his arm over her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

You glance around at your group of friends in time to see Scott looking at you. Based on his facial expression, he was either searching for chemosignals from you or trying to do his weird werewolf-ey mind reading thing he swears is real. You’d recognize that face anywhere. He realized you were watching him back and he snapped out of his trance. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows. He then looked over at Stiles and then back to you. Crap. His face immediately lit up as he grinned back and forth between you two; Stiles naturally not noticing since Lydia is standing right next to him. You could feel the heat from you blushing moving from your cheeks down to your neck.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go to class,” you announced, “Not that you care,” you said with a much quieter voice, looking directly at Stiles. You turned on your heel and walked away so fast you’re almost positive you left skid marks on the tile floor. You wouldn’t look back though because your eyes would naturally be drawn to Stiles and why torture yourself even more, right?

Later that day, you climbed up on your stool in physics and plopped your bag down on the floor. You twiddled your thumbs, nervous about the pop quiz Kira told you about when you met halfway between your english class and the physics room she just left. Scott strolled in without a care in the world, wait till he hears about the quiz, and takes his assigned seat next to you. After this morning, you don’t dare make eye contact. That will only make you more nervous and more susceptible to his werewolf crap. Awaiting the inevitable questions Scott was going to grill you with, you looked over to see him staring at you with a goofy grin on his face.

“If you do that long enough, your face will get stuck like that,” you brush him off as if you don’t know what he’s thinking, even though you obviously do.

“You like Stiles,” he simply states, that stupid smile still plastered on his face.

“I do not,” you replied nonchalantly, turning your attention to your notebook, remembering there was a quiz in literally three minutes.

“Yes you do, y/n, I smelled you this morning,” he exclaims, turning his whole body to face you.

“Do you know how weird that sounds, Scott?” you ask, keeping your focus on your notes.

Scott reaches over and snatches your notebook, flipping it closed before placing it in front of him.

“Hey!” you try to grab for the book, but Scott pushes it further away.

“Admit that you like him and I’ll give it back,” he says sternly, holding your hand down on the table to restrain you from trying to get it back.

“Why?” you asked, pulling your hand out of his grasp. He shoots you a confused look before relaxing back into his seat. “What will me admitting it change? It won’t turn me into Lydia,” you huffed, rubbing your index finger between two others; one of your annoying habits you do when you’re nervous.

“So you do like him,” Scott exclaimed, bright eyes looking down on you.

“Jesus Christ Scott, maybe you should say that louder, I don’t think they heard you mexico,” you whispered shouted, flailing your arms in an attempt to cover his mouth.

“I knew it,” he smiled, pushing your hands away, dropping your notebook back on the table in front of you.

You dramatically picked it up from the table and started searching for the page you were on previously.

“Why don’t you tell him, y/n?” Scott asks.

“I think we’ve established that I’m not Lydia,” you gesture at your face.

“What? Y/N, Stiles doesn’t like Lydia,” Scott exclaims, shaking his head, the smug smile only growing wider, “He likes you!”

“Yeah, and I’m a fucking mermaid,” you scoffed, shutting your notebook when the teacher walked in holding a stack of papers containing your impending doom; aka, the pop quiz.

“Y/N, that’s a cover, even Lydia knows it,” he blurts out, “Do you know how nervous you make him? He can barely look at you for more than five seconds without his hands getting all sweaty and clammy.”

“Scott, I know he likes Lydia, I’m not blind,” you explain.

Before Scott could protest any further, the teacher announces that you have a quiz made up by Satan himself, not her words of course, and instructed everyone to stop talking and to remove everything from their tables.

“This isn’t over,” Scott whispers as he begins writing his name at the top of his paper.

Later at lunch, you met up with with your friends at your usual table outside. As soon as you walked up, everyone immediately stopped their conversation and looked up at you.

“What’re you weirdos talking about?” you asked, taking a seat next to Isaac on the end of the bench.

“You,” Isaac snickers, followed by a yelp as he jerked his body when someone kicked him under the table. You’re sure it was Scott, based on the glare he’s sending Isaac’s way.

“What about me?”

Silence. Not just any silence either, the awkward silence where everyone nervously looks around at each other, desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject.

“What the hell were you talking about?” you snap, shooting glares around the table.

“Dude, just tell her,” Scott address to Stiles.

Stiles, who clearly didn’t expect Scott to say that, whipped his head to face his best friend, giving him the scariest death stare anyone’s received in the past three minutes.

“Tell me what?” you raise your voice, this time addressing Stiles directly. When no one said anything else, you pushed up from the picnic table and threw your backpack over your shoulder. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“Y/N, stop, just listen,” Scott pleaded, shooting you his big, brown puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t even want to know anymore, Scott, I really don’t care,” you snapped before turning on your heel and striding away.


Hey can I come over?

The message flashed across your phone screen, illuminating your cave of a bedroom. You ignored it, setting the phone back down next to you on the screen. Your eyes went back to the book you’re reading when your cell buzzed again.




Not home

You typed your response quickly before dropping the phone back on the bed. You barely had a chance to pick up your book before it vibrated again. With a huff, you picked it up and nearly choked on the air when you inhaled sharply.


I’m outside

Shit. You jumped off the bed and looked through the white, translucent curtains hanging across the window. Just like he said, Stiles was standing in your driveway, leaning against the driver side door of his beat up blue jeep. You raced downstairs, skipping the last two at the bottom and swung the front door open. Stiles looked over and gave you a shy smile before pushing off the car and making his way up the front steps to you.

“Hi,” he smiles with his eyes.

“Hi,” you reply with absolutely zero enthusiasm in your voice.

“Can we talk?” he asks his stupid, adorable brown eyes widening.

Without a word, you reluctantly stepped to the side so Stiles could squeeze past. Stiles followed you down a hallway that led to the living room in the back of the house and sat down next to you on the couch.

“If this is about what Scott said at lunch, I told him I don’t care,” you explained, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s not just about lunch, it’s about everything,” Stiles sighed, turning his whole body to face you.

“What’re you talking about Stiles?” you sighed, completely annoyed with him already. There wasn’t the tiniest bit of hope inside you that Stiles liked you. You assume that Scott told him about physics today and he’s here to let you down easy.

“Look, just hear me out okay?” Stiles pleaded, running his fingers through his hair.

“Stiles, I don’t care about earlier, so drop it,” you snapped.

“Jesus, y/n, can you stop talking for like two seconds?” He shouted and it made you flinch. “God, do you know how infuriating you can be sometimes?”

“Excuse me?” you ask, completely confused about what the hell is going on. “How am I infuriating?”

“You always assume you know what people are going to say,” he snapped.

I do not,” you shot back defensively.

“You assumed I came here to talk about what happened at lunch,” he raised his eyebrows, knowing very well that he was right.

“Well didn’t you?” you raised your voice, throwing your hands up in defeat.

Stiles shot up from his seat and paced back and forth a couple times from the couch to the window. “I don’t know why I even came here,” he stops and puts his hands low on his hips.

“Maybe you should leave then,” you huffed, sitting back into the couch.

Stiles gave you a look you have never seen before. He was smiling, but you could tell he was either mad or annoyed; more than likely both. He took a deep breath and for a second you weren’t sure if he was going to breath fire. He held back whatever he was going to say and sighed, pacing again. “I don’t even know why I like you,” he scoffs just loud enough for you to hear.

“You what?” you questioned, not totally sure if you heard his right.

“I like you, y/n,” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “and I can read you the Pros and Cons list I made about it like three months ago.”

“You like Lydia…” you said in a tone that wasn’t completely sure if you were telling him or asking him.

“I. Like. You,” he paused in between each word, now standing still and staring at you.

You were at a complete loss for words. You were mentally beating yourself up because Stiles Stilinski just told you that he likes you and all you want to ask him is ‘why?’

“Let’s hear it then,” you shrugged your shoulders, raising your eyebrows to let him know you’re listening.

“Wait, what?” he asked with surprise in his voice.

“The Pros and Cons list, I wanna hear it,” you demanded.

This time, it was Stiles who didn’t know what to say. He slowly walked over and sat down on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of you. “Which do you want first?” he asked.

“Cons,” you replied, after thinking for a moment.

Stiles took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes. This was probably a bad idea, you thought.

“Well for starters, you’re bossy as hell and you’re a complete know it all,” he couldn’t help but smile when he saw your dumbfounded expression.

“Keep going…” you shook your head.

“You’re a bad listener, you hardly let someone get a word in sometimes,” he continued, “and you wear that goddamn dress with the black and white stripes that’s all flowy and shit,” he flails his arms around his head.

“How is that a con?” you asked, refering to the last statement.

“Because,” he paused, looking at the ceiling, “because I have to see you in it and it kills me,” his voice softened at the end.

“What’re the pros?” you asked, sinking deeper into the couch.

“How much time do you have, it’s kinda a long list,” he smiled shyly, causing your face to heat up, probably turning red as well.

“Well,” he began when you didn’t respond, “you’re insanely beautiful…like…really beautiful,” he said with a blush. “You always know when something’s wrong with me, like even before Scott notices and you always make sure I’m okay.”

It was getting harder to look at Stiles because all you wanted to do was lurch into his arms, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“You’re smart, y/n, practically a genius,” he complemented.

“I am not,” you smiled and shook your head.

“You are. I know I said you’re a know it all, but most of the time, you’re right about it,” he said, “Sometimes you even know what I’m thinking or feeling before I know.”

“I can’t believe you memorized your list,” you said, trying to change the subject.

“I didn’t,” he smiled.

“What do you mean?”

He stood up and leaned over you, pinning his hands on either side of your head on the back of the couch, his face inches from yours.

“Whenever I see you, y/n, I think of at least twenty new reasons why I like you,” he smiled.

He then dipped his head lower and pressed his lips to yours. It took you a second to wrap your head about what was happening. Stiles pulled back, searching your eyes for any reaction. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, pressing your lips back to his, harder than he had before. Stiles began to pull away again, but this time he held your hands and pulled you up from the couch, never letting your lips break from each others. He wrapped his arms around your lower back and held you tightly against his abdomen. Your broke the kiss and tugged him back down the hallway and up the stairs. As close of friends as you and Stiles once were, he had never seen your bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and looked around. The opposite wall from the door was adorned with three tall bookshelves, lined with rows of books upon books upon books. The floor in front was cluttered with two stacks of books as well. To his left, your bed rested in the corner of the room, multiple blankets and pillows scattered amongst it. The only light was the faint glow of white string lights that hung around the entire perimeter of your room up where the wall met the ceiling. When Stiles looked over, he noticed you watching take it all in.

“What’s the face for?” you asked, nervously, scooting closer to the edge of your bed.

“I knew you liked to read, I just didn’t know how much,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous, it-it’s dumb,” you stuttered, looking away from the brown eyed boy.

“Don’t do that,” he sighed, walking over and sitting next to you.

“Do what?” you asked.

He cupped your cheek to make you look at him and his smile practically melted your heart. “Don’t say something you love so much is dumb, because it’s not.”

He pulled your face closer and planted his lips on yours. You began scooting back on the bed, guiding Stiles back with you. He hovered over you, holding himself up on his forearms. You toyed at the hem of his shirt and he sat up and yanked it over his head, haphazardly tossing it to the side. Resuming the kiss, he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you granted him access, allowing him to intensify the kiss. He gently dropped his body down closer to yours and ever so slowly started to roll his hips against your body, feeling the apparent bulge every now and again. The make out session picked up and before you knew it, you were laying there naked and feeling completely exposed, watching Stiles push his khakis and boxers off his hips together and kick them to the side. He crawled back up the bed lingering over your bed and start placing open mouth kissed across your jaw linr and down your neck. You fingers fluttered down his chest, trailing all the way down his stomach and along the trail of hair that led to his lower v. His breath hitched against your skin as you took hold of his length and gently pumped from the base to the tip. His lips found yours again. Stiles moved his hand down, covering yours while you still had hold of his member. He lined himself up with his entrance and looked down at you. With his left elbow being his only support to hold himself above you, he bent his wrist down and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes and smiled sweetly. He slowly pushed into you and watched as your eyes slammed closed, trying hard to suppress any noise. After giving you a few second to adjust to him, he started grinding his body into yours, getting into a steady rhythm. Stiles moaned against my lips, picking up his pace. You felt yourself coming undone underneath him as he pulled you closer to the edge. His breath quickened and he was coming shortly after. He continued to thrust into you to help you reach your climax, before you were coming as well. Stiles took a second to catch his breath and pulling out and carefully laying down next to you. He wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest and he held you tighter by resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Just so we’re clear…you don’t like Lydia?” you joked.

“Shut up,” Stiles smirked, kissing the top of your head.

anonymous asked:

Can I just say I absolutely share your enthusiasm about Bad News??? BY FAR my favorite in the Melrose series. He's gonna knock that shit out of the park. Also, I do think the pic's intended to be Bad News Patrick. The Oliver Peoples sunglasses have me convinced they're trying to evoke the 80's (always calls American Psycho to mind). Not to mention, the overcoat he's wearing has me thinking it's THE overcoat? Just a thought.

i agree. cumberbuddy found a really similar car coat from burberry which is contemporary, but has a broad-shouldered, double breasted thing to it reminiscent of the 1990s. i kinda wonder if they’ve veered away from The Overcoat as a trenchcoat as it might look too sherlockian?

in @karin-woywod‘s pics from yesterday he’s in a NYC cab from the early 1990s, wearing the same coat. and whilst he looks really well groomed, i think i can see bruised, exhausted eyes through the opaque window… which makes me v. happy in terms of identifying him as BN Patrick :-)

anonymous asked:

JK Rowling actually directly referenced that line when discussing POC Hermione- like you said, she made it clear that she meant Hermione blanched, not that she was saying Hermione was white time(.)com/4357745/jk-rowling-racists-black-hermione-harry-potter/

Oh cool! I didn’t know she had spoken out about that line directly herself. I’m going to publish this ask because I think it’s important to cite the author’s own opinion on the topic, in case anyone else is in my position where they didn’t know that JK Rowling has already talked about this specifically.

“I had a bunch of racists telling me that because Hermione ‘turned white’ — that is, lost color from her face after a shock — that she must be a white woman, which I have a great deal of difficulty with,” Rowling told The Observer. “But I decided not to get too agitated about it and simply state quite firmly that Hermione can be a black woman with my absolute blessing and enthusiasm.”

(also I’m starting to get self-conscious about how much I’m positing in re: to this topic because I don’t want to be flooding people’s dash with my long posts – sorry everyone (•̥́_•ૅू˳) – but if you haven’t already noticed, diverse representation is something I deeply and passionately care about, so I do feel the need to go in depth in my replies in case it’s an opportunity to convince someone that diversity DOES matter.

Though I feel like I’m reaching a point where I’ve p much covered all my bases and there isn’t anything left to be said SoOOooO…. hopefully this is the last of it???)

Shelter-Pt. 5

Sidney sleeps in the next morning, a rare Saturday with no game and no practice, and other than getting up to use the bathroom and once to snag a bowl of cereal, he spoils himself by spending the entire morning lazing in bed.

He’s kicked back in only his boxers, reading his very well worn copy of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince when he hears the heavy knock on the door.   

Sidney freezes, his entire body tense and he’s not even religious but he squeezes his eyes shut tight and prays to any deity that will listen that it just please, please not be Troy.  Please don’t let it be Troy.  

He hears Mom’s voice as she answers the door and then a man’s voice and his stomach drops for a split second before he realizes that isn’t Troy’s voice—it’s Geno’s.

Sidney has a moment of immense relief before he realizes Oh my GOD, Geno is there and he’s just wearing boxers and his hair is almost certainly a nightmare of fluffy, untamed curls and both voices are getting closer to his room.  Shit.

He has just enough time to grab last night’s tee from the floor and pull it over his head when Mom taps on his door a couple of times and opens it. “Sidney, Geno’s here.”  Sidney pushes his head through the neck hole of the shirt with as much dignity as he can muster.  Mom just smiles and heads back to the living room.

“Geno, hey.  What’s, um, what’s up?”  

Geno grins and plops down on the foot of Sidney’s unmade bed like he’s been here a million times. “Hey Sid.  Thought I see if you want hang out today, realize I don’t have phone number. I see on TV,  Maplefest downtown today!”


“So much food, Sid.  Maple bacon, maple pops, maple glazed ham, lots other maple foods. We go, try everything!”

“I…okay?” What else could he say?

Geno beams at him. “Best, Sid!  Going to be fun!”

“I need to shower first. I’ll be quick.”  

“No rush, Sid. I wait here for you.”  Geno reaches out and picks up the book Sidney knocked to the floor in his haste to get a shirt on. “Good book, I read while I wait.”  

Sidney has no idea how, in the space of a few days, he has a brand new friend who is poking around his room like they’ve known each other all their lives but he doesn’t want to question it.  He doesn’t know how this happened or how long it will last but he likes it, he likes having a friend, especially one like Geno who is so easy to be around.  As Sidney grabs clean clothes and traipses to the bathroom, he smiles; he has a friend and he’s going to enjoy every moment of it.

Sidney isn’t sure what he expected to find at Maplefest but he didn’t expect the massive crowds that seem to be filling the streets.  It takes them awhile to find a parking spot but eventually they do and take off towards the entrance.  

The festival is lining both sides of a long street with the crossroads barricaded and one main entrance.  It isn’t until they get in the long line to enter and Sidney sees people clearly paying for an armband of sorts that he starts to worry.  

Geno hadn’t wanted Sidney to give him anything towards the pizza the night before but after a minor quibble, he agreed to take five dollars.   Sidney still had the remaining $15 but he had no idea how much this was going to cost.  He felt his cheeks flush and he felt utterly stupid for not realizing sooner that this obviously wouldn’t be a free event.  

He took a deep breath—there was no way he was going to wait until they were at the front of the line—and forced himself to speak. “Geno, what are the armbands for?”

“For get in, get access to different number of different booths to try.”

“Is it….do you know how much it costs?”   

Geno shrugs. “Not matter.  I already have.” And he pulls two red armbands out of his hoodie pocket. “Mama and Papa decide not to go, give to me, tell me give one to a friend.”  He holds the armband out to Sidney with a sweet smile.  “Red mean ten foods, Sid!”

“Oh.  Thanks.  I—thank you. I mean, do you want some money for this?”

Geno shook his head and frowned.  “No Sid.  Not sell to you. Give to you.”

“Okay Geno.”  Sidney’s voice is soft. “Thank you.  It’s…this will be fun.”  

“Most fun, Sid.  We eat all maple foods then go play Halo.  Best Saturday.”

And they do.

Geno is like a kid with absolutely ridiculous amounts of enthusiasm as he drags Sidney from booth to booth. He seems both amazed and thrilled at all the different foods that have been prepared with maple syrup and he chatters excitedly. It’s infectious and Sidney finds himself laughing a lot.  

They both try a lot.  Sidney’s partial to the maple glazed bacon and the maple ice cream while Geno nearly loses his mind over the maple snow pop station.

Sidney is intensely skeptical of the maple burger Geno digs in to but they both love the maple bbq pulled pork sandwich and they both hate the maple salmon.

By the time they shuffle their way back to Geno’s car, three hours have passed and they have full bellies and smiles on their faces.  Sidney is carrying a small bag of maple soaked donut holes and Geno has a small styrofoam container with a slice of maple pecan pie for later.

In the car Geno leans back more than usual, grinning and Sidney laughs at him. “Me too. God, I ate so much.”

Geno nods emphatically.  “Best day.”

Sidney nods because it really is.

Chemicals Collide-- Niall Horan

External image

video edit

“I got a couple addictions
But I swear that I’m coming clean
I got a new way of thinking
Yeah, you’re bringing out the best in me

I got a bit of a history
But you’re telling me that you don’t care
I’ve been a bit of a mystery
The only thing that I could find around tonight was you
So come on, come on
Do you want to?

Shut your eyes
And feel the chemicals collide
You and I, tonight
You’re the sugar in my high

Shot so high
I feel the chemicals collide
Stars and satellites
Spinning round and round
On the night you saved my life”


I watch intently as my roommate glides the thin felt tip of the eyeliner pen across her right eyelid, the ink prominent against the pale tone of her skin. As she reaches the end of her eye she gives the marker a quick flick, connecting the wing to the original line.

“You have so much patience.” I say as I stare at her reflection across the room, watching as she leans back from the mirror and drops the makeup marker in her drawer with a short content sigh. “I could never do that with such precision and poise.”

“Thanks. I’ve been doing it for so long I could practically work at Mac.” Adylan looks at me through the mirror, giving me a confident smile.

I return her gesture from where I sit on my bed, snug in my fluffy Batman pajama pants and its matching shirt, my back propped up against the beige wall of our dorm room with my laptop perched on my thighs. A half-finished episode of The Vampire Diaries decorates my screen, one of the main characters paused in the middle of a gruesome fight.

A bag of Doritos lays at my side along with a bottle of Diet Pepsi, the food having been the perfect companion with the night of vampire romance and hybrid killing I had so attentively planned out for tonight. After a couple of episodes I had promised myself that I’d pull out my notes and start studying for the psychology test I have coming up on Monday, something telling me that if I didn’t study I wouldn’t pass it with the grade I desired.

I have an A in all of my courses except for psychology, my grade teetering at an annoying 86.7. The only reason I have this grade is because of a stupid take-home test I had flunked, causing my grade to drop four points to where it is now. If I pass this test with atleast a ninety-three, my year-round grade would round up to a ninety and I’d be able to exempt my final. So close, yet so far.

However, my arrangements were unexpectedly interrupted when Adylan had stormed into our room, screaming profoundly about her own plans for today’s Friday night. After the excessive squealing and several rounds of victory dancing she finally settled down enough to tell me what she was so worked up about.

From what I could comprehend inbetween random screeches of elation, it came down to a simple conclusion. Apparently, Adylan had caught the attention of a jock from one of the fraternity houses on our campus and he had invited her to a party that they were throwing tonight.

“Who is it?” I had asked half-heartedly without even looking up from my screen, more to humor her than anything. I was more interested in returning to my fictional world of thick drama and soul-wrenching love than any silly little frat shindig.

“You aren’t going to believe this!” She had squealed for about the tenth time in the last two minutes, jumping up and down as she shuffled through her favorite outfits in her closet. She had pulled out a rather tight shimmery black dress, the neckline cut too low for my personal taste. She peeled off her floral blouse and kicked off her khaki shorts, stepping into the beautiful yet too-revealing dress.

I’m going to be completely honest and clean-hearted when I say this because I love Adylan to death, but she sometimes dresses too carelessly. She fairly covers herself for school, but whenever she goes anywhere else she would go all out and completely forget about her modesty. This time, as I stated before, wasn’t any different.

She had the dress three-forths up her body and is was working on squeezing her chest into the tight bodice when she finally answers. “It was Zayn Malik!”

The name caught me so off guard I had choked on a Dorito chip. I paused the show, coughing up bits of cheesy tortilla pieces as I fumbled for my soda.

Zayn Malik is not just a member of anyfraternity house, he is a member of the Sigma Omicron Beta brotherhood– one of the most popular frat houses on not only our entire campus, but our entire county region. To get invited into one of those parties was like being invited into a celebrity’s home.

The boys in the Sigma Omicron Beta– ΣΟΒ or SOB for short– are part of some of the most rich and prestigious families in the whole state. These boys are sons of some of the biggest CEOs and businessmen you could ever meet– they’ve got the money, the education, and the looks. Most of them only care about the money and looks, throwing their intellectual matters away like a plastic wrapper. Many of these college boys have so much money their kids probably wouldn’t even have to work for a living.

Adylan had laughed at my sheer surprise as she stumbled around trying to sip up her dress, nodding her head in satisfaction at my reaction. That was the reason she was wearing such a risqué dress– she was hoping to catch the full interest of Zayn.

The SOB was not just known for their impeccability around campus, but they held the ultimate trophy for throwing the best parties in the county. Teenagers from other fraternity houses around the area would come and hope to be let in into such a huge mansion, knowing that the party inside would not doubt be the biggest and wildest party of maybe their entire lives. Adylan had practically been invited into the Gates of Heaven.

Now I sit here, watching as she finishes touching up her smoky makeup and curling a few extra pieces of hair, wanting to look flawless for the event.

“This is going to be absolutely sick!” Her enthusiasm is barely contained by her wide grin as she turns and bends down, reaching for her sleek black pumps. Her short dress rides up the back of her thighs and exposes her lace thong.

“Whoaaaa!” I howl, covering my eyes with the back of my hand and doing my best to sound utterly mortified. “No flash photography, please! Make it stop!”

“Oh, shut up!” She hisses sinisterly, quickly straightening up and roughly tugging down the hem.

I laugh, watching as she struggles to grab her high-heels and keep her bottom covered. When she finally manages to get her hands on her shoes, she plops down onto her bed across from mine.

“You know, this is why you’ve never gotten laid. You rarely wear shorts, your jeans sag too much in the back, and you have way too many Marvel t-shirts.” She states coldly, playfully sticking her tongue out at me as she slips into her footwear. “You’re going to end up being a real-life case of The Fourty-Year-Old Virgin.”

My mouth drops open and my hand flies to my chest, pressing down over where my heart as I give a fake insulted gasp. “How rude!”

“The truth hurts.” Adylan slumps back onto the palms of her hands, tired from her transformation. She leans across and grabs a Dorito but I slap my hand down against her fingers, shooing her away.

“I don’t share food with disrespectful whores. Just incase you’re confused, you file under that category.” I huff, shoving the bag of chips under my crossed legs. Now it’s her turn to be faux flabbergasted.

“How rude!” She mimics me in a high-pitched voice, throwing up one manicured hand and flicking me off.

I make a sour face at her, scrunching up my nose and complaining about the pure stench of skank that seems to be protruding from her body.

“Why, thank you. I do try.” Adylan bats her eyelashes in my direction, pursing her nude lips and making kissy noises. “If you can’t deny it, embrace it, bitch.”

I dive into a fit of chuckling, nodding my head in agreement at how blunt she is. I reach up and redo the messy ponytail my hair is hanging in, wanting to get all of the stray strands away from my line of vision. I give her a smile, showing that no matter how much I tease her, I will always love her.

“Well, I hope you have fun with Zayn at the party. Just remember: Don’t be silly, cover the willy.” I give her my most serious expression, my lips twitching as I try not the break my straight face.

She smirks knowingly, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, mom. I’ll make sure.”

I give her one more nod, finally returning my attention back to my screen. Just as I am about to press play, she screams.

I spasm, nearly flipping the computer off my lap, my whole body going into immediate defense mode. I look up at her, my eyes wide with confusion and bewilderment. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Oh my God!” She yelps, a huge smile spreading across her face at whatever information has just resurfaced in her brain. She stands up, jumping up and down as she laughs. “Zayn– he said I could bring a friend with me to the party! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you! I was so caught up in my own invitation it slipped my mind!”

I blink at her, everything she had just said shuffling into place in my mind. I had also been requested to come.

Any other normal college student would do backflips because of the incredible news, but the first feeling that registers in my mind is fear.

Throughout my life I hadn’t been very good with people– talking to them, interacting with them, or simply just being around them. I had a history of being overly-shy and reserved. It had taken me hours to even as much as mutter a word to Addy the day I’d moved and I live with her. Now I had been invited to a mansion full of possibly hundreds of teenagers and most of them would be astonishingly attractive, over-confident, and intoxicated– a huge manor full of complete and utter assholes. Not really my scene at all.

“I don’t think I shou–” I begin to explain myself to my friend, trying to get through to her that maybe me going to this party isn’t the most brilliant idea.

Do not fucking tell me you don’t want to go.” Adylan crosses her arms over her chest as she raises her eyebrows threateningly, daring me to reject her.

“Addy, you know I’m not good with people…” I murmur, furrowing my eyebrows in an apologetic gaze. If the situation was different– maybe a less populated party and less high-ranked attenders– I’d consider going, but it’s not.

“Are you serious?” She whines, stomping one of her heels and how she manages not to break her ankle is beyond me. “What are you even going to do all night that could be better than meeting all of these hot frat guys?”

“I have to study for Thorn’s psychology test on Monday.” I point out, jerking my chin in the direction of my backpack for emphasis.

Her eyes light up and I feel myself cringe. Whenever Adylan’s eyes glimmer the way they are now it’s because she has leverage of some sort and by the way she’s practically glowing with smugness, I can predict it will not benefit me very well.

“I remember you telling me that you really wanted an A on that test, is that correct, Y/N?” She clasps her hands behind her back, walking in a line back and forth infront of me, eyeing me closely.

I slouch, grudgingly nodding my head. All I want is to stay in my bed in peace without any social interaction but from the way Adylan is smiling, I can tell that I won’t be getting my wish tonight.

“What would you say if I told you that I already took that test and I can help you study almost exactly what was on there?”

My head perks up as I eye her suspiciously. How is it possible for her to already have taken the test when Professor Thorn planned out to give the exam to all his students on the same day?

“You’ve got my attention…” I trail off dubiously, my right eyebrow cocking upwards curiously.

“Remember how I told you I’m not going to be here on Monday because my parents want me to go home for my great Nanny’s ninetieth birthday?” She continues slowly, seeming to be savoring in a victory that isn’t even her’s yet.

“Nanny McPhee?” I reply, giving her a sarcastic grin.

“No, you dipshit. Nanny Carmen.”

I chuckle, rolling my hand in a few circles in a signal for her to keep going.

“Well, since I’m not going to be here on Monday, I asked Thorn if I could take the test earlier to avoid having to take it next week along with my other exams and he agreed to let me do it. I took the test after school hours today and it’s still fresh on my mind.” She stops dead in her tracks right before me and gives me a manipulative half-smile. “Would you care to take this advantage and have Yours Truly tutor you on it?”

“Yes!” My answer is automatic and without hesitation, the gates to my exemption form being kicked wide open for the taking.

“Okay. All you have to do is come to the party with me.” Addy falls back onto her bed, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap calmly, very pleased with her side of the deal.

My mind rages with what decision to make, my instinct being to take the offer without looking back. Although her bid is very tempting, another large piece of my mind whispers for me not to do it. My anxiety when meeting new people and being surrounded by a large crowd pokes at the back of my thoughts, making a simple choice so much harder to accept.

If I agree to do it I will have the benefit of passing my class for certain and not to mention attending probably the greatest party of the year, but I will have to suffocate in the tons off other people that will also be attending the fiasco. If I decline, there’s a possibility I might pass my test with a fair grade, but it’s not guarantied the way Addy’s proposition is.

“Better hurry up– I promised Zayn I’d be there by ten. It’s already nine forty-five and the frat house is about a ten minute drive.” She looks up from having glanced at her phone, holding up her right wrist to me and tapping it with the opposite index finger as if she were wearing a watch. “Times ticking, Y/N. What’ll it be?”

I groan, already knowing the mandatory answer. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Yay!” Adylan claps her hands, squealing as she jumps up and tackles me in a hug. “This is going to be great! I’m going to help you pick out your outfit and do your makeup and–”

“Absolutely not.” I stop her short, putting one hand up in halt. “I’m not dressing up for this party. I’m making myself as least noticeable as possible.”

“What? But you have to! It’s a party!” She immediately begins to complain, gripping my shoulders as she pouts.

“You said I had to go to the party, you didn’t say I had to actually interact at the party.” I give her a proud grin, pleased that I’d found a small loophole in her supposedly solid contract.

“You can’t be bloody serious.” She gapes. “Are you?”

“I’m afraid so. You should’ve thought the demands of the deal through before suggesting so quickly.” I cackle evilly, wringing my hands together like a mad genius as I push the computer off my lap.

“You’re unbelievable.” Addy scoffs, slumping forward with her elbows on her exposed knees.

“Why, thank you!” I copy her tone from before, batting my eyelashes at her angry expression. “If you can’t deny it, embrace it, bitch.”

I snicker as I shut down my laptop, grabbing my beverage and snack as I make my way to my closet at the end of my bed. I pass by our mini-fridge and toss both items inside, not really caring whether the Doritos belong there or not.

I peek through the door of my small walk-in clothes room, grabbing the first article that catches my attention. It’s a NASA Kennedy Space Center t-shirt from when I had visited there during spring break– black background and the words printed in white, blue, and red in the center with the NASA logo right above. I reach for the drawer underneath all of my hanging clothes and pull out a pair of dark denim skinnies, not giving much thought to my appearance at all.

I know if I allow Adylan to dress me, I’ll end up wearing a flashy dress similar to her’s or a skirt so tight I wouldn’t be able to sit down properly, so I rather take care of this on my own.

I can hear Addy groan as I appear from behind the door, her eyes trained on my outfit with a mixture of disgust and loathing. Her glare shifts onto me and I give her an innocent smile, set on pushing all of her buttons for forcing me to go.

“Atleast tell me you’ll let your hair down from that pony tail. I love it when you part it to the side and pin your bangs back.” She is able to work a compliment into her demand so I decide to oblige, giving into her meager request.

I whine internally as I slip out of my cozy pajama bottoms, wanting nothing more than to just curl up in a ball and finish watching the fourth season of my show, but I know that if I do that I will most likely not be exempting that final. I’ll take what I can get.

I hear Adylan trying not to laugh as I expose my underwear, her snorting being audible even from a few yards away.

“Just because I still buy the full-coverage hip-high panties with the cute patterns on them doesn’t make me a child.” I grumble, already knowing what she is thinking.
I ignore the chuckles escaping her mouth, concentrating on getting dressed.

“You’re wearing pink panties that have bunny patterns on them! What are you, five?” She bursts, clutching at her stomach as she throws her head back to laugh.

“They’re comfortable and affordable! Shut the fuck up!”

After unenthusiastically tugging off the rest of my comfortable nightwear and repeatedly telling my roommate to leave me alone about my undergarment choices, I pull the t-shirt over my head, thankful that I already have on a bra since I only take them off right before I go to bed. I take out my tie and shake out my hair as I slide into my jeans, jumping up couple of times to pull them all the way up, keeping in mind the comment Addy had made about my saggy pants. I hop over to my nightstand as I slip on a pair of mismatched socks, picking up my pair of scruffed-up black Vans. After lacing them up, I snatch up my hairbrush from the counter and stare at the mirror as I remake the hairstyle Addy had asked me to do.

“Ready?” Her heels thud softly along the carpeted floor as she walks over to the front of the dorm room, picking up her car keys from one of the hooks I’d set up next to the door. She turns the knob, glancing back at me over her shoulder.

I sigh emptily at my reflection, letting my hands fall to my sides limply. I had low expectations for tonight, already planning on keeping my head down in the crowd and praying that I don’t get noticed by any of the snotty rich pricks that are going to be parading around the humongous house. The last thing I need is to get picked on in an event I don’t even want to attend.

‘I can survive one night.’ I think to myself as I turn and head after my friend, flipping off the lights to our room and pulling the door closed behind me. ‘It’s just one party. What could possibly go wrong?’


We’d managed to make it to the party around the hour Adylan had promised, but I didn’t notice the exact time because I had been too preoccupied gawking at the mansion the we were pulling up to.

Whenever I have spare time in my hands, I like to watch those shows where designers, decorators, and construction professionals get together to build a dream house. I’d never thought any manor could possibly out-do some of the royalty-worthy architecture I had witnessed on that show– that is, not until now. I don’t think I’ve ever laid eyes on a house so ginormous and over-the-top as the house the looms over me now.
This home is a completely different level of stunning, mesmerizing me as soon as I passed through the iron gates.

The first masterpiece to appear is a large pool/fountain that has steps inside where the water current pushes forward, creating multiple small waterfalls. LED lights make the water change colors, glowing and fading from bright blue to deep red, neon pink to a brilliant purple, and a light green which changes into an iridescent orange. The pool alone is a wonderworld.

The entrance to the house itself is to the right, where cars pull up and evacuate their passengers, the driver heading off to find a random spot in the scattered mess that is the parking lot. The house has cement walls that are a faded shade of beige and large framed windows, most lining a cylinder tower from where you can see a colossal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, alternating colors similar to those of the pool.

People stream into the house through the large dark red-oak doors, groups and groups off people piling into what I guess would be the living room. My breathing picks up as I watch people push and shove eachother out of the way to enter, but I tell myself to remain calm for Adylan’s sake.

Speaking of Adylan, I glance over to watch as she sits up straight, craning her neck around to see where she could find a satisfactory parking space.

“Ah, perfect.” She murmurs, managing to squeeze her Corolla inbetween a Range Rover and a Jeep that are parked diagonal of the fountain pool. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I breathe, undoing my seatbelt.

“Good! I bet Zayn has a bunch of friends he wouldn’t mind introducing you to. He’s not that bad, you know.” Addy comments as she opens the door, landing on the ground with a sharp click of her heels. I flinch slightly, wondering if she could even feel her feet from having to balance her weight on such torturous shoes.

“He’s actually really sweet. From what I’ve learned about him, he takes his education seriously even though he’s doesn’t have to.” She hums as we meet up behind the car, pressing a button on her key controller to lock her vehicle. “I’m not sure about his friends, though.”

I shrug, not really caring whether Zayn’s companions were worth the pain of befriending. Most of them are probably the type who like to jump around with girls just as they would on a trampoline.

“Getting an STD is really low on my list of life goals so I think I’ll pass.” I murmur absentmindley, looking around in awe at the sheer amount off people milling around with drinks on the courtyard of the property.

I feel something hard whack me on the arm and my hand instantly finds the affected area. I furrow my brows at Adylan as she stares at me with an annoyed expression.

“Lighten up, would you? Would it kill you to let someone in your pants for once?” She rolls her eyes as she continues looking around, trying to find her frat boy.

I open my mouth to answer, ready to snap at her about how I was waiting until I was in a committed relationship to give myself up to anyone, but I’m cut short by her releasing an excited squeal.

“There he is!” She swoons. “Fuck, he looks so hot in that jacket.”

I follow to where Adylan is pointing, my gaze landing on a small group of boys that are chatting as they stand off to one side of the doors, away from the mob of guests.

I count five boys in total, all of them wearing the same leather jacket with their SOB brotherhood crest engraved on the back, three of them wearing different colored snapbacks. I can barely make-out their individual appearances but I can tell one of them is blonde, the hair sticking out of the rim of his hat a light golden hue. My eyes jump from boy to boy, obvious details sticking to my brain so I can distinguish them better.

One has his hair a bit longer than the rest and has it styled up into a fluffy quiff. Another is wearing a red and black plaid flannel shirt under his jacket and is wearing a cap. One has jet black hair that is also styled up and does not have a snapback. The second to last has on a shirt with the words “The Future Is Now” stamped on it, accompanied by a hat aswell, and the last member is the blonde one. One trait that all of the boys have in common is that they are all incredibly attractive, which gives me a perfect reason to avoid them. Out of league, out of mind.

I feel someone tugging on my arm, snapping my attention back to my friend. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to introduce you!” Addy gives me an enthusiasm-infused grin, pulling me after her as she makes her way towards the gang.

“What? No!” I yank my arm from her grasp, shaking my head furiously. “I don’t want to! I said I wasn’t going to talk with anyone!”

She gives me an irritated scoff, narrowing her hazel eyes at my face. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Well, I am, so please just let me be.” I whisper, looking at her with as much sternness as I can muster. “I’m going to go inside.”

“Wait, no!” Adylan stops me as I try to push past her, gripping one of my hands in both of hers. “I want you to meet them! Who knows, you could actually have some fun tonight! Y/N, please let me do this. I want this for you. You’re probably one of the only virgins in the district! Let’s try and change that!”

My eyes widen in bewilderment as panic rises in my body at her suggestion and I only have enough time to shake my head before she’s hollering across the front yard of the house.

“Zayn!” She takes off at a fast walk, dragging a very shocked and unsettled me behind her.

The boy with the darkest hair turns in our direction, a smile breaking across his unbelievably handsome face. He lifts his left hand and waves us over, his smile being one of the brightest I’ve ever seen.

I’d only heard about Zayn in the hallways of our school, but I’d never actually met him. He has classes on the other side of campus, meaning I’d never even laid eyes on him because of our varying schedules. But now he stands in my path, his eyes glued on my roommate as she hurries over to him. We finally arrive before the group, all of their eyes taking in the two new visitors.

“Hey, babe.” Zayn reaches over and squeezes Adylan in a familiar hug, his hand snaking around her waist. “You look sexy.”

Adylan releases my hand, using her own to cling to her date in a hug, a blush evident on her cheeks as she mumbles a thank you.

After greeting him back she says hello to all of the other boys, leaving me to stand by her awkwardly for a few seconds.

“I brought someone with me.” Addy smiles as she makes eye contact with me from where she stands in Zayn’s embrace, silently urging me to introduce myself.

I slowly look up at all of the men standing before me, mustering a shy smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

The one with the plaid shirt and slight stubble is the first to welcome me. He returns my smile, the way his eyes crinkle making him look genuinely kind. “Well hello, Y/N. I’m Liam.”

I give him a grateful smile, watching as he takes it upon himself to introduce the rest of his friends.

“This is Harry.” Liam extends one hand towards the boy with the longer hair. Harry’s lips spread into a lob-sided half-grin, his right eye-lid dropping in a wink to emphasize his ignorant greeting.

I can tell he’s the type to live around girls’ bed, his entire demeanor showing it off. The way he holds himself with too much confidence and an over-whelming sense of haughtiness almost drowns me, his celadon eyes dancing with mischief as they flick over my face.

I avert my gaze, glancing to the boy next to Harry with the worded t-shirt. “This is Louis.”

“Hellloo.” Louis wiggles his eyebrows at me playfully, chuckling lightly.

I’m not really enjoying meeting all of these frat members because I know that no matter how harmless they may seem, their intentions are anything but pure. I’m itching to just dive into the house and sit by myself in a lonely corner, but I have to finish the business Addy had involuntarily set me into doing.

“That’s Zayn.” Liam flicks his chin toward the person I already established is Zayn and I meet his eyes, being blown away by how they seem to change color in the light that showers us from inside through the windows. They seem light brown at first, but then they fade into a few shades of a dull willow green, and then back to a rich brown. His eyes are very similar to Adyaln’s, which I find pleasantly coincidental.

Zayn gives me a warm smile, surprising me completely. Maybe he’s not as bad as I had put him up to be.

“And last but certainly not least, this is Niall.” My eyes wander to the last member, already knowing it has to be the blonde bloke since everyone else has already been presented.

My eyes drift upwards from the ground, taking in his Vans that are quite similar to mine, his black baggy cargo shorts and a red muscle tank. I watch as he slips off his leather jacket, his arms becoming exposed. His biceps ripple as he crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles becoming enthrallingly taunt.

I manage to rip my eyes away from his arms, tracing the tight pectorals that lay under his tank up to his neck and finally his face.

My first impression of Niall is different than from the other boys, his features being more significantly unique than any other frat boy I’ve ever seen. His face appears to be soft and pretty childish, his pale skin not being structured by a strong jawline like Harry nor sharp cheekbones like Louis, but it’s a shape all of its own. His nose tilts up ever-so slightly, round at the tip in the most adorable way possible. Tender light-pink lips that lead up to rosy cheeks and icy blue eyes with specks of gold in the middle, which are framed by somewhat bushy fair-toned eyebrows. All of this adorns his impish face framework, easily making him one of the most alluring boys I’ve ever met.

Niall reaches up and takes off his cap–which is bright red and has the words “EXPLICIT CONTENT: Parental Advisory Adviced” imprinted across in big bold white letters– and runs a large hand through his messy blonde hair, pulling slightly at his dark roots and then repositioning his snapback back atop his head. His eyes rake down my body from head to toe, causing a vexatious sensation to weigh down on my chest. I shift uncomfortably under his intense stare, attempting to play myself off as calm.

“Have yeh ever even been to a party before?” He speaks up, his arms finding their way back infront of his chest as he seems to glare at me. His accent is strong and thick, my mind picking it off as Irish.

I feel my heart drop to my stomach, the smile melting off my face. A grin grows on his, his demeanor taking on a malicious aura.

“Uh–uhm– yes?” My answer comes out more like a question, making it sound as if I were asking him for confirmation that my reply was correct.

“Are you sure?” One of Niall’s eyebrows flicks upwards in doubt. “I mean, if you have gone to a party, I would think you’d know what to wear to one. A stupid geek t-shirt and a pair of random jeans really doesn’t cut it– especially not at a Sigma Omicron Beta party.”

The rest of the boys burst out laughing, all except for Zayn and Liam. Some of the people that surrounded us start laughing as well, their eyes unforgiving as they judgmentally flit over my clothes. I watch as they react to Niall’s insult, taking it as a comical scene.

My cheeks flare with red, blood rushing to my face in sheer embarrassment. I look up at Niall through my eyelashes, watching as he chuckles at how dumb he’s made me look. I wish nothing more than to disappear.

“I-I’ll be inside…” I mumble to Adylan, only having a short glance at her shocked and apologetic expression before I brush past her towards the doors of the mansion.

I can hear Zayn’s voice speak up, but I ignore any comfort his complaint brings me. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Niall?”

I mold into the reasonably smaller crowd of people pouring into the manor, passing into a world of neon lights and loud music. Pop songs blare from the huge speakers in the over-sized living room, making the ground vibrate. Tons of teenagers stumble around in the dim lighting with bottles of varying liquor drinks and suspicious cigarettes in there hands, while others are dancing freely around the massive house.

I find myself coughing, bringing up my hand to cover my nose from the horrible stenches of nicotine and other unknown drugs. I elbow through two couples that are practically sucking eachother’s faces off, looking around for an untaken seat away from all of the hysteria. I pass under an archway into what seems to be another living room, spotting a small couch shoved into a far corner. I avoid bumping into intoxicated bodies as best as I can, making a beeline for the settlement.

I slouch down into the cushions, taking a deep breath of the foul air as I try to calm my nerves. My chest feels hollow at Niall’s vile derision, but I push it out of my mind as best as I can.

I knew I was right– frat boys are nothing but rich assholes who can’t take anything serious and make anyone’s life hell. Niall was the proof.

I lean back against the sofa pillows, watching as a guy and girl stagger right by me, the guy slamming the girl into a wall and groping her in places he shouldn’t be touching in public. I gag, turning away from the pornographic sight.

Taking out my phone, I pull up the folder I have with all of my games organized, clicking on Geometry Dash. I pop in my earbuds and make myself comfortable.

This is going to be a hell of a long night.


- N i a l l -

Niall was baffled– completely, unsatisfactorily baffled.

He is propped up against a wall, taking leisurely sips from his blue plastic cup filled with an odd mixture of tequila, bourbon, Pepsi, and Minute Made pink lemonade that a very wasted Louis had thrust into his hand a few minutes before. He looks around at all of the stoned and buzzed college students dancing and making out, nothing seeming out of the ordinary to him since this was just another typical Friday night in his frat house.

Niall is confused as to why he isn’t turned on considering the tanked girl that was clinging onto him now was doing a pretty amazing job at trying to get him aroused. He could feel the roughness of her tongue and teeth as she sucks on his neck, one of her hands teasingly palming him through his cargo shorts while the other yanks wildly at the hair along the nape of his neck, just like he likes it. On normal circumstances, Niall would be all for it, but his body seems to be putting up a fight against any trigger he wants to ignite. He finally gives up, his legs becoming tired as he has to hold up not only his weight but also the weight of the random brunette he had snatched from the pool outside.

“Alright, babe.” He slowly detaches her from his throat, watching as her face contorts into one of pure confusion. “I’m just not feeling it. I think Louis walked that way and he seems to be up for anything. Why don’t you go take a look, yeah?”

The girl follows his finger in the direction Niall had promised her his friend would be and decides to give it a go, shrugging. “Whatever.”

He watches as she sashays off, in pursuit of another willing guy to bone. Niall sighs irritably, angry that he couldn’t seem to get wound up no matter how hard his efforts are.

He continues sipping his drink, eyeing a couple who are practically ripping the clothes off eachother’s bodies as they push through the crowd of grinding teens, watching as one of his fraternity brothers shoves the girl onto the wooden counter of the bar, pulling her shirt over her head as she fumbles with the buckle of his belt.

Niall snorts, diverting his gaze from the show. He wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable with the two shagging on the counter because it happened all the time and he had watched it occur repeatedly, just with different people. Hell, he’d even fucked a fair amount of girls on that exact same booth. He’d just have to wipe it down with Lysol later.

“You having a little trouble with your friend down under?” A voice perks up from behind and Niall doesn’t even have to turn to know who it is.

“Is it that obvious?” He speaks into his cup, chugging down the rest of the atomic beverage in one large gulp. He tosses the cup onto the marble island across from him, pressing his palms on it and leaning forward for its support.

“I mean, you usually don’t last this long downstairs. A maximum of about thirty minutes and you’ve already got a atleast three girls trying to tear down the door to your room. It’s a bit surprising to see you still participating at the actually party, and empty-handed as well.” Liam comes up next to Niall and looks at him over the brim of his drink, the lower half of his face hidden behind a lime green cup with an unknown brew swishing inside. He leans back on his elbows, adjacent to Niall, facing towards the living room where he can see a handful of the sisters from the Sigma Epsilon Chi sorority house playing a round of naked twister with a couple of his friends.

“I wasn’t empty handed a couple of seconds ago. I just wasn’t feeling anything so I brushed her off towards Lou– he’ll definitely be feeling something with all of those shots he gulped down. She’ll have more fun with him than with me.” Niall allows himself a short glimpse at his best friend, smirking at how Liam rolls his eyes.

“Wow. Niall James Horan actually giving up a shag for his friend– how oh-so modest of you.” Liam chuckles, throwing his now empty cup towards a pile of trash in one corner of the large kitchen. He hits a girl who was on her way out, the cup knocking her right on the forehead.

“Sorry, sweetheart!” Liam calls, giving her a quick wink. Niall snickers as he watches the girl roll her eyes and leave. He hurriedly snatches a random empty cup and chucks it at the same girl, but–unlike Liam– he has the intention of landing the hit a little lower. It smacks into the girl’s ass, making her jump and whirl around.

“Asshole!” She yells over the music, flicking Niall off as she disappears into the mob of people.

“I’ll shove my dick up yours!” Niall calls after her, satisfied with the rise he’d gotten.

Liam goes into a fit of chuckles, telling him he’s a bastard as Niall pretends to brush dust off his shoulders.

“Hey, now that we’re on the subject of apologies…” His mate trails off after he’s calmed down, raising his eyebrows suggestively at the Irish lad.

Niall rolls his eyes, already knowing what Liam has in mind.

“Why’d you snap at Y/N?” Liam questions, reaching across Niall for a blue bowl full of sour cream and onion potato crisps.

Niall shrugs, not really having thought out the motive for insulting the unfamiliar girl. He conjures up a haphazard reason, taking a chip from the container. “I just thought her shirt was stupid and that I’d let her know. Giving my opinion, you know? Exercising my freedom of expression.”

“You’re a piece of shit sometimes, you know that?” Liam sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“That’s what I aim for, Payno.” Niall pats his chest in false pride, inspecting the chip before popping it into his mouth. He reaches in again and takes a handful, spreading them out on the marble table before him and concentrating on trying to build a mini tower of fried potato slices just for the hell of it.

“You should go say sorry. I think that’s the reason she’s been sitting all alone instead of enjoying the party– she feels degraded because you bashed at her for no apparent reason.” Liam says softly, furrowing his eyebrows slightly to emphasize that he is serious.

“Yeah? Well, you should go suck off Zayn and then shove your dick up Sandy’s ass.” Niall quips sarcastically, watching as his chip tower collapses for the third time.

“Niall, I’m not messing around. The poor girl never did anything to you so why did you have to go and ruin her whole night just because you didn’t have anything better to do?”

“Since when did you become so kind and heartfelt towards random chicks you never even knew existed? I think Zayn is starting to rub off on you– he has his dick so far up your ass that you’re starting to become his little bitch.” Niall grumbles, fumbling for any other insult that could get Liam to fuck off.

Liam shrugs, pushing off of the table in a cease-fire. “Forget I said anything.”

Niall grits his teeth as he watches Liam blend into the other guests, leaving him with his nerves on end. It pisses him off to his limit whenever Liam does this– whenever he tells Niall that he did something wrong and unfair so that his conscious would start picking at him to make it right. He can’t just forget it now that it’s there, implanted into his brain like a disease. The only thing that will cure the brooding infection is for Niall to apologize to Y/N, which is something he wants to refuse to do.

He slaps his hands down on the cool stone of the counter and aggravatingly scatters the crisps he had been playing with. Liam had just ruined what was left of his entire night aside from whatever anti-boner hormone was kicking around in his system right now.

‘Damn motherfucker.’ Niall’s mind spits, raging and out of control.

The guilt is making him want to pull out his hair by the roots, his chest seeming to be stinging with regret for his actions earlier towards Y/N.

‘Fine.’ He decides, not that he really has a choice anymore. 'I’ll find her, apologize, and then go find some busty blonde to fuck for the rest of the night.’

Niall pushes off of the counter, sauntering out of the kitchen and shoving through people without remorse as he tries to spot the one girl he hoped he’d never have to encounter again.


He finds her in the second living room, sitting on an old couch that no one uses anymore. He and his friends had agreed to shove it into the corner, not wanting to throw it out just incase they ever broke the others.

Josh has already cracked one down the middle when he and six others had been playing a game of indoor football and Niall had managed to break another one a few weeks ago when he’d invited over some sorority girls to participate in a nude game of tag. They’d managed to convince the buyer of the house– also known as his dad– to replace those, but he had clearly stated if they broke one more, they’d have to use the old dusty one they’d cast aside. Since that conversation, everyone has been more careful around the sofas.

Niall stands under the archway across the room from the couch, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, a glass bottle of Absolut Lemon-Lime Vodka in his grasp. He brings the bottle to his lips, chugging down three gulps as he tries to come up with what he will say in his apology.

'I’m sorry you have a shitty taste in clothing.’ He thinks, immediately cackling to himself.

'Maybe not.’

In the end he succeeds in arranging a some-what prudent atonement, settling for telling her that her shirt really wasn’t that bad. That he’d been to the Kennedy Space Center once and that the restrooms had been fairly spotless, wrapping it up by complimenting her on sporting the logo of a decent company with the comfort and intimate happiness of their guests in mind.

He can practically feel Liam’s hand whacking him on the back of the head, telling him he’s an uncultured fucktard.

'Something is better than nothing.’ Niall shrugs to himself, focusing back on Y/N.

He stares at her as she taps away on her phone and Niall’s demented form of curiosity questions whether he should ask her if she was watching porn. He votes against it, not wanting to dig himself any deeper into the hole he was already in.

His eyes narrow at her face, actually wanting to take in her appearance unlike before. He hadn’t really cared for her at all the first time they met but now he was going to have to face her for longer than twenty seconds so actually analyzing her was necessary. How awkward would it be if he tries to say sorry while she has a booger sticking out of her nose?

Niall scans her face, tracing the delicate curves of her rosy lips and seemingly soft skin. He watches as the light from her device reflects off of the suddenly mesmerizing shade of her eyes, the way they shimmer making his breath abruptly catch in his throat. The way her hair falls forward into her face makes his lips twitch into a smile, unaware of the alien affect she is bestowing upon him that no girl had ever brought him.

Niall gazes at her, captivated by the way her fingers brush her hair back from her naturally tinted cheeks and behind her ears.

He wants to slap himself for being so utterly sappy but he can’t seem to control the feeling that is suddenly blossoming in his body as he sees her smile at something on her screen. The sensation is warm and soothing, spreading up from his chest to his neck and down his stomach, making his eyes become lidded as everything around the barely-known girl becomes an irrelevant blur.

Niall had never carried any feelings for any girls he’d been with, always telling himself that tying ropes with someone did just what the phrase means– it would rope him down from living his life and having fun, and that’s why all he did was sleep around with them and end it there. Fucking and nothing else– that was his number one rule. But try as he might, he can’t seem to dismiss the way his heart is starting to speed up as he nears Y/N.

Now that he was giving her his undivided attention, he comes to terms that he’s never seen anyone so purely beautiful and untainted– never laid eyes on a girl so naturally radiant and with such genuinely clean intentions as what she was giving off now. Y/N had shown him nothing but kindness when they had first met outside and he had been an absolute douche. His mistake flashes before his eyes, guilt pressing down on his chest as he thinks about how nice she had been to him, hoping he would be polite and return the gesture, but he had screwed himself over by being a pompous asshole.

'This is stupid.’ Niall tries to convince himself, trying desperately to shake off the feeling that just looking at this girl gives him. It seems to be consuming him and he can’t do anything to stop it.

'Feelings in general are bullshit. No one can ever truly just like one person with so many people walking around in the world.’

Niall repeats these thoughts over and over again in his head, reassuring himself that what he is feeling is just the affect of what the brunette from earlier had been trying to achieve. He was horny– sexually aroused and nothing else. After finishing his business with Y/N he could drag a few girls upstairs and make this all go away. He was fine, he was himself– Niall Horan, the popular jock that fucks girls more than he studies and plays football more than he does homework. He wasn’t sentimentally attracted to her– Niall was incapable of emotional attachment. It isn’t real– it’s just the liquor and sexual tension kicking in.

He’s hovering behind Y/N in a few mere seconds, taking deep breaths to cast away all of his insane and impractical thoughts. His hand reaches out to get her attention, drowning himself in denial as he does.

'This is nonsense.’ He screams at himself internally. 'Absolute rubbish.’

But even as Niall bends his will to prove that he is only wired up, he can’t deny that the small brush against Y/N fills him with a response he’s never had before.

As he feels her skin slide against his fingertips, his perception on himself shatters into a billion pieces. In a split second, the shards seem to kaleidoscope around, rearranging themselves into an uncomprehendingly distinct point of view on what he had just been tearing himself apart with.

It’s as if she were contagious, his mind brimming over with nothing but her and only her. Like a virus, she spreads across every inch of his thoughts, claiming them as her’s.

His mind explodes with thousands of unexperienced sensations and all of them manage to translate into one palpable feeling: captivating adoration.


- Y/N -

I’m proud to be able to say that I probably broke the record for the highest scores on all of the games I have downloaded. I’ve been sitting here for an two hours now, alternating between Geometry Dash, Flappy Bird, Dot Wave, and a bunch of other random mini-games without stop. If I see another yellow bird my head is going to implode.

My fingers are beginning to cramp and the battery icon on my phone is flashing a dangerous shade of bright red, announcing that it only has twelve percent of battery life left. I sigh, regretting forgetting my charger.

Adylan had come by a few times, trying her best to get me up and out of my seat to dance. I had managed to ward her off each time, claiming that I was feeling light-headed because of all of the smoke fumes floating around the living room. It wasn’t hard to convince her because every round she came over, she was more wasted and stoned than she had been before.

The last time she had visited me was roughly about ten minutes ago, stumbling over her feet and giggling as if she were on laughing gas.

“Come dance with me!” Addy had slurred, gripping onto the armrest of the couch for support. She had suspicious purplish spots that looked like love bites littering her neck and collarbone and I could see a large questionable stain soaked into the front of her dress along her chest. She reeked of tequila and from the look of her hooded eyes, she was bound to collapse any second.

I had smiled at her ruefully, deflecting her request without trouble. “I feel sick, Adylan. I’ll just wait here until my head clears up and then I’ll go find you.”

She had blinked a few times, the information struggling to register in her muddled brain. She finally nodded, giving me a lazy smile. “Alrighty then. I’ll just be over there in the kitchen. Scream if you need me!”

I kept my eyes trained on her as she wobbled off ungracefully, muffling a few chuckles as I had watched her grip onto random strangers to prevent from falling forward on her face.

Now I sit here alone yet again, with my phone dying and the foul stench of beer and nicotine threatening to suffocate me.

I glance around, witnessing as groups of college students stagger past me on there way to the stairs that wind up to the second floor of the manor. I presume that upstairs is where all of the bedrooms are, and I shiver just at the thought of all of the vulgar interactions that are most likely taking place right above my head.

My mind wanders to what Adylan had said before– that I’m probably one of the only virgins walking around this area. I don’t even try to deny it because I know for a fact that it’s true.

“You’re in college!“She had whined in disbelief the first time I ever told her. She had gone off about how the climax of my entire life is now– that college years were the days for me to make mistakes and regret them later. That I should get blindly drunk and high and get fucked over.

I had politely declined her reasoning the first time and I declined it to this very day, explaining to her that I was waiting to be in a devoted relationship to fully give myself up. I felt a bit of remorse for lying to her, though. If I ever told her the real reason I haven’t had sex yet, she would never let me live it down.

The actual reason why I don’t want to engage in anything sexual yet is because I’m afraid– I’m afraid of messing up the moment by doing or saying something stupid, I’m afraid of it hurting to the point where I wouldn’t be able to carry on until release, and I’m afraid of my partner going off and telling all of his friends that I’m shit in bed. All of these scenarios bounce around in my head, making me shiver at just the thought.
I’m just not one-hundred percent sure that I’m ready so I rather wait it out until I am instead of having to deal with the embarrassing aftermath of a bad first time.

I’m yanked out of my thoughts by a light brush on my arm, the unexpected contact making me jump in my seat, my phone sliding off my lap and crashing onto the ground.

“Shit!” I yelp, rapidly fumbling for the sleek black electronic. I turn it over and over in my palms, scouring the surface for any dents or scratches.

After establishing it as unharmed, my mind reels towards the person that caused this outbreak. I look up from where the interaction came, curious about what he/she wants. A pair of bright cerulean eyes lock with mine and I can’t help the way the corners of my mouth automatically dip into a frown.

“Nice shirt.” Niall says sarcastically, giving me a bright, innocent smile.

I snort humorlessly, turning back away from him and hoping he’ll go away. He doesn’t seem to get the message because he walks around the couch, plopping himself next to me. He settles himself, slouching into the cushions with his feet flat on the ground and his legs opened wide. I can tell it’s an innuendo but I choose to ignore it.

I watch from the corner of my eye as he lifts up a bottle of vodka to his lips, taking a laggard swig. I refuse to engage in conversation with him, still upset and even a bit terrified of him.

I can see him studying me, his eyes never leaving my face. I quickly become flustered, wanting nothing more than for him to leave me alone. Although, by the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to be planning on it.

I finally choose to speak up, my head snapping in his direction with irritation written clear all over my features. The words stick to my throat, however, when my eyes land on his face.

Niall’s eyebrows are furrowed deeply as if he is in deep thought, his eyes glazed over in concentration. He’s chewing on his lower lip, which I guess to be a random mannerism of his. The reason I had stopped short was not because of his habit, thought. Instead of focusing on smaller details, I take in his facial expression as a whole and I’m stunned to find that it shows what I interpret to be fascination.

“What do you want?” I mumble, self-consciously crossing my arms across my chest to cover the NASA logo on my shirt.

Niall blinks back into reality, whatever he was thinking pushing back into the recesses of his mind. A small smile tilts his lips upwards as he sees my position, a low chuckle reaching my ears.

“You still got a rake up your ass because of that?” He asks nonchalantly, tilting his bottle in my direction to signal my hidden top.

I glare at him, wishing he would disappear into thin air.

“Oh, come on? Can’t you take a joke?”

“Can’t you take a hint.” I deadpan, my teeth grinding together in anger and utter dislike.

“Feisty, huh? I would’ve never thought you had it in you.” He goes for a taunting wink, but I continue to smolder at him.

His eyes stay trained on me as he reaches up and scratches the back of his neck, probably feeling awkward for the first time in his life since I’m deflecting any attempts he’s making at humane conversation.

Niall leans forward, propping his elbows on his bare knees and turning his head to fully face me. “Listen, I just wanted to…to apologize for what I did outside.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, astonished that he’d managed to make the words leave his mouth. I never would’ve thought the he would be able to put the words “I” and “apologize” in the same sentence.

“I’m shocked you know what an apology is.” I let the snide remark slip out without a second thought, a bit more confident now that I know he’s feeling some type of anguish for his actions. If he wants forgiveness, he’ll have to hold back from offending me any further.

His eyebrows furrow in defense, his mouth opening up to make a vile comment, but he stops himself.

“Well, it is.” Is all he settles for saying, no mockery or bitterness behind his words.

I give him my honest attention now, very curious about this personality switch. He takes my silence as a sign to keep going, inhaling deeply before letting the rest rush out in one breath.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole. It was wrong of me to insult you without even barely knowing your name– it was wrong to bite at you at all. I wish I could take it back because I recognize how humiliated I made you feel. However, since I can’t take it back, apologizing is the only way I can try to make it up to you.”

Silence follows his confession, the loud bass of the music seeming to be drowned out by the tense air that fills the gap between us.

Niall was actually, truly apologizing. He had taken my feelings into consideration and had worded out whatever amount of remorse he carried in his heart to try and get me to forgive him. It was unbelievable, to say the least. Niall, the jock that goes around using girls like toys and then pushing them away to take another. Niall, the notorious frat boy with a loaded family and a naturally expense-paid future was taking the time to apologize to a random middle-class girl he might not even recognize after today. But he acknowledges me and my peace-of-mind now, and that is a step up from the guy I had tried to talk to before. I’ve always believed in second chances, and Niall seems to desperately want one.

The look of genuine guilt on his face communicates his affliction, his eyes sheepish as he gives me a regretful half-smile.

“I forgive you.” I murmur, letting the edges of my own lips twitch into an accepting smile.

His shoulders slump forward slightly as if a weight has been lifted from his body, his eyes shining with gratitude.

“Thanks. And I really do want to take it back– the Kennedy Space Center is actually pretty great. Their bathrooms are clean and their soap doesn’t smell like that shit cough medicine my mom used to give me when I was ten– I personally appreciate that. You’re choice in company promotion is ace.”

I shock even myself when I let out a laugh, watching as his face breaks into a satisfied grin. The ice between us breaks, my anxiety dwindling down to a comfortable level. I’m grateful that he made me laugh because if he wants to get a positive rise out me, that means he’s not intending to hurt me in any way anymore.

Niall brings the rim of the one-fourth finished vodka bottle back up to meet his lips, winking at me as I roll my eyes at him.

I’m impressed by how he can just swallow the liquor from the bottle with no trouble, while I myself start to conk off after just one and half cans of beer. I’ve never worked up a tolerance against alcohol because I never liked it– it’s bitter, is to easy to abuse of, and makes my tongue itch for a reason I have yet to know. But Niall seems to take the heavy drink without a problem, enjoying it as if it were a tasteful milkshake.

He catches me staring, detaching his lips from the bottle and lifting up the hem of his shirt towards the tip and wiping it off. I catch a glimpse of his toned stomach, my eyes tracing down his dark happy trail as it vanishes behind his belt buckle. His muscle tank drops back over his torso, leaving an odd gnawing of discontent in the pit of my stomach.

“Want some?” Niall offers the bottle to me, raising up his eyebrows in a playful dare.

“I don’t drink.” I shake my head, scrunching up my nose for emphasis.

“I’m not saying you have to chug down the whole bottle– we can share.” He suggests, setting the bottom of the flask ontop of my knee, waiting for me to take it.

I shake my head again, staring at it with uncertainty.

“Why not?”

I look up, already sure that he is going to start making fun of me again because of my apprehension towards alcohol, but instead I find his eyes full of curiosity rather than reticule.

I sigh, waging whether to brush him off or open up to him about it. I decide the latter.

“Drinking is irresponsible. Alcohol makes you do things you normally wouldn’t do and you could fuck up and end up either pregnant, hurt, or dead. That’s the reason I don’t drink– I don’t want to mess up my future.”

Niall stares at me for a second, the words sinking into his mind, and then he starts to laugh.

“Well, in case you didn’t know, I can’t really get pregnant.” He pats his stomach for significance.

“Shut up.”

He laughs harder, his cheeks beginning to turn red. I give an exasperated sigh, hinting to him that he’s being a dick again.

“So the reason you don’t drink is because you’re a good girl.” He concludes after getting himself together, a daring smile lingering on his lips. “You’re wound up so tight about what mistakes you might make that you never just let yourself go. Let me guess: You’ve never gotten drunk before.”

His tone of voice isn’t sinister but comical, so he’s not being rude but rather harmlessly teasing.

“Never.” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s stupid and unnecessary.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing in fake disbelief. “It’s fun and it relieves stress, which you seem to have a lot of.”

“What do you know about stress?” I challenge. “And don’t tell me you’re stressed out from school because I’ll collapse my lungs from laughing so hard.”

“Ahh,” Niall wags a finger in my direction, clicking his tongue against his teeth, “you got me there. But I’m familiar enough with stress to know that it’s physical embodiment is sitting right next to me at this very moment.”

He lightly pulls at a strand of my hair mockingly, resulting in me elbowing him jestingly in the side. It’s ridiculous how fast we broke the contact barrier when more two hours I could barely stand him.

“Listen, Y/N, I might not be an expert on being a “responsible student,” but I am an expert at unwinding and living my life to the fullest capacity of enjoyment– I used the bigger words for your benefit, just so you know.“

"Well, consider me blown away.” I grin, slightly flattered. “Continue.”

Niall chuckles, clearing his throat for the hell of the joke. “I think you should just forget about everything for one night– loosen up your reigns and run free. Every teenager has to have at least one moment like this in their life– a moment when they loose all sense of meaning and throw away all the shits they give about their future and their jobs and their education. One night– just one– where they let themselves be reckless, irresponsible and fully inconsiderate. I think you should try it; you’d be surprised at how amazing it feels to not give a damn.”

He breaks my gaze, glimpsing around the living room, his eyes landing on something across the room. He leans in further next to me, his left cheek hardly two inches away from mine. He points towards whatever had caught his attention, his voice indicative as he talks. “Look at Adylan. Doesn’t she look like she’s having a great time?”

I follow the direction he’s signaling, my eyes taking in what he’s trying to show me. Through the archway that leads to the kitchen I can see Adylan leaning on a counter island, a red cup in her delicate hand with her head nodding to the music as she seems to be waiting for someone. She is obviously still drunk, the way her eyes are too wide and her pupils are dilated making it clear, her hazy smile showing nothing but pure delectation.

I observe closely as a tall finger makes its way towards her, stopping infront of her smaller figure and setting his hands on her waist. The sleek black quiff and caramel skin are familiar in my mind, Zayn’s face connecting to this man’s appearance. Adylan wraps her arms around his neck as his arms tighten around her waist, their lips connecting in a deep kiss. I watch as Zayn picks her up, sitting her down on the counter and pushing her down until her back is against the marble. He works on shrugging off his Sigma Omicron Beta jacket, one of his hands slowly pushing up the fabric of the dress from her thighs.

Addy’s fingers loosen on her red cup and it falls to the tile floor, its contents splattering everywhere. No one pays attention to the mess, everyone in the kitchen more interested in witnessing the two teenagers getting it on. Zayn climbs up on his knees onto the table, laying his body down over my roommate’s as she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling his body as close to her’s as possible while smashing her lips onto his own. All of the people around them cheer and hoot, yelling some very explicit ideas about what Zayn should do to her.

I tear my eyes away from the scene, not wanting to be invasive of my friend’s relationship. She doesn’t seem to care about being in public, however, because she proceeds to lift Zayn’s shirt over his head and throws it behind her, ignoring the fact that tons of complete strangers are watching her hook up.

“See? She’s enjoying herself. Why don’t you give it a try, just for once?” Niall’s voice hums in my ear, trying to lure me into doing what he had said– to let go.

My mind spins with his tempting offer, all of my logical senses telling me that it’s not a very good idea.

'Do it.’ A soft voice I’ve never heard before hints in the back of my brain, pushing me towards the edge and begging me to jump off. 'You’ve earned it.’

All of my life I’ve done nothing but follow the rules and act rationally, placing heavy accountabilities on my shoulders without a single break. I’ve worked myself to the bone for my exceptional grades and good résumé, and frankly, one night of fun wouldn’t hurt. Maybe he’s right– I should take a rest and just throw away all of my worries for tonight, actually allowing myself to enjoy one of the biggest college parties I had the luck of being invited to.

“It’s just for one night.” Niall whispers provokingly against the shell of my ear, his warm breath tickling the side of my cheek and jaw. He smells of raw smoke and strong liquor, making my senses kick into high gear at this invasion of toxic smells. One of his hands sneaks onto my leg, taking mine and wrapping my fingers around the neck of the half-full vodka bottle.

He sifts his long digits inbetween mine, slowly lifting up the rim of the liquor carafe towards my lips. My eyes meet his, the color a dark and almost sinful shade of sea blue. “Let go.”

“Just for one night?” I echo his comment quietly, my eyes flicking from the edge of the bottle and back to his face.

“Just for one night.” He confirms, not breaking eye contact.

I feel all of my sane reasoning drain out of my mind, temptation finally taking charge. Just one night of freedom– I deserve it.

My mouth parts willingly, catching a glance of Niall’s triumphant smile as he pushes the bottle past my lips and tilts it back, the stale liquid filling my mouth. I wrap both of my hands around the glass, leaning my head further back so more of the lemon-flavored acid enters my body. I can feel it running down my throat, scorching everything in its path and leaving behind a sizzling feeling.

I chug down the rest of the bottle without shame, a dull prickling spreading across the back of my head and up my scalp. I release it, involuntarily coughing up some of the liquor. I’ve never had anything stronger than beer so, naturally, my body is rejecting this new poison.

“Deep breathes.” Niall orders, setting the empty bottle on the polished wooden floor. I feel his hand slide up my back encouragingly and I concentrate on his light caress, managing to get myself under control.

“You good?” He questions, his eyes trained on my heaving chest with uncertainty.

I nod and smile confidently, the warm bubbling response in my stomach begging to be fed with more booze. “I want more.”

“More?” Niall can’t help the surprise that coats his tone, raising his eyebrows in conformation.

I nod frantically, clinging onto his arm and pleading. I love that every single worry I had before is fading away from my thoughts, my mind becoming fuzzy and numb with drunken glee. I’ve never felt more liberated in my entire life.

“Alright.” Niall grins, pushing himself up from the couch. He offers a large hand to me, wanting to guide me through the turn of events that I’m about to engage in. I take it, excited for all of the new sensations I’m more than ready to experience.

We dive into the crowd of sweaty dancing bodies, pushing through drunken people with the determination of reaching the bar. I feel the music coursing through my body, my careless instincts wanting to dance just as wildly as the other girls surrounding me.

“Niall, I want to dance.” I murmur, tugging at his hand. We reach the open bar and he turns, giving me a small smile.

“How about we get you another drink and then we’ll see.” He winks, facing back to the bar tender and asking for a beverage that I’ve never tried. He grabs my waist and lifts me onto a stool, positioning himself next to me as we wait for my drink.

I receive two tiny glass cups and I swallow down the clear liquid inside immediately, the vague taste of pineapple making my taste buds tingle.

“Do you like it?” Niall takes the cups from me, handing them over to the waiter.

“It tastes pretty good.” I nod, savoring the splash of fruit juice that still lingers on my tongue.

“Half a bottle of vodka and two shots of whiskey mixed with pineapple tequila– that’s a brand new record for you.” He chuckles, his eyes squinting up as he does so.

I’m hypnotized by the way his laugh vibrates deep in his hard chest, the sound being one of the most delightful I’ve ever heard. I relish the feeling of his firm hands still gripping my waist, the rough yet soft skin making me want to melt into him.

Everything around me is fading in and out of relevance as I feel the liquor run through my veins, warm and heavy. The feeling is mind-blowing, my bloodstream seeming to boil in response to the unfamiliar liquids flowing through my system. A dull buzzing magnifies in my ears and I feel as if my stomach were frothing, all of the alcohol I’ve had mixing to build an effervescent sensation all throughout my body.

I find myself grinning, requesting that he get me another one. I have three more in the next fifteen minutes, each time finding myself sinking further into Niall’s secure embrace.

He has his chest to my back, keeping me from falling back off of the chair. I can smell the deliciously intoxicating aroma of his cologne, his scent making me want to stay near him for as long as possible.

At this point, I find myself slurring and choking on my words, short bursts of giggles filling the spaces inbetween my sentences of random gibberish. Niall just laughs at my attempts to talk, only energizing me to keep mumbling blankly so I can keep hearing his laugh. I finally calm myself down enough to ask for another shot.

“More.” I remark flatly, jutting out my arm with the sixth empty cup in my hand and shaking it unsteadily.

Niall gently pries it from my fingers, setting the shot glass onto the counter of the bar. “I’m sorry to have to say this, but I’m cutting you off.”

“What? Why?” I whine, kicking my legs like a child. “I thought you were going to help me unwind and shit! What are you now, my withdrawal coach?”

“Y/N, you’ve never had this much alcohol in such a short amount of time, meaning it could be dangerous. I don’t want you to have to get your stomach pumped because I wasn’t paying enough attention.” Niall presses his lips together into a straight line, his eyes tinged with concern.

“Get my stomach pumped? That sounds painful.” I scoff, shaking my head at the suggestion as I twirl the cup on the wooden tabletop.

“Trust me, it is.” Niall shivers, giving me the feeling he’s experienced the procedure front and center. I stare at him as he pulls off his snapback, running his hand through his head of messy blonde locks and setting his cap back on before he talks again. “Do you still want to dance?”

“Yes!” My enthusiasm is rekindled at the idea, and I wiggle my legs in attempt to scoot off the stool.

He helps me off and leads me to the middle of the crowd, telling me to just feel the music and to let myself go. I do as told, starting to sway my hips to the beat of the song and completely losing myself for the first time in a long while.

Niall takes my hands, twirling me around and dipping me down, our laughter mixing in with the lyrics from the music. I have no idea what I’m doing and I know that I probably look ridiculous, but at least Niall is here to look ridiculous along with me. I loose sense of time, focusing fully on having fun and just enjoying the feeling of his touch on my skin.

“Watch and learn.” Niall releases my hands and bends forward with his palms against his knees, jutting out his ass and starting to shake it.

I die of laughter, clutching my stomach as I watch him slap his bottom a few times. We keep dancing, ignoring anyone around us but eachother.

There comes a moment when my legs finally give out in exhaustion, Niall being there to catch me.

“Whoa, easy there, babe.” He grabs my waist, helping me stabilize myself on my wobbly legs.

“'Babe?’” I hiccup, a joyful smile spreading across my face without consent. The nickname makes my heart flutter against my ribs, my ears turning a light shade of red.

“Yeah, 'babe.’ It’s a pet name, Y/N. Haven’t you ever heard of them?” Niall flaunts, poking me in the side.

I realize my mistake too late, regretting it right after as I watch his eyes light up dangerously, full of curiosity and smugness. I had squealed.

“Oh, so you’re ticklish?” Niall asks slowly, a sinister smile taking up his face from ear to ear.

“Niall, no.” I spread my arms infront me, trying to put up a barrier of protection as I stagger back to get as much distance between us as possible. All thoughts of continuing to dance slip my mind as I watch Niall start to slowly advance towards me.

“Oh, I think yes.” He’s getting really close and I don’t notice that I backed myself up into a corner of the room until it’s too late. I’m trapped.

I push back as far as the tiny corner allows, my hands set out flat before me to face Niall. I’m shaking my head, begging him not to do this.

“Niall, please.” I plead pathetically, my heart speeding up as his chest presses into my palms, his strength easily overpowering mine.

“Sorry, Y/N, but I just can’t help it.” Niall’s hands are on me in an instant, his fingers digging into the flesh along my waist and up the side of my torso, crawling around like ants.

My body curves inward, trying its best to shy away from the exotic attack as I jerk from side to side, loud laughs and desperate cries for help bouncing off of the beige walls surrounding us. No one can hear me over the music, unfortunately, so I’m going to have to stay here and suffer until Niall’s had his fun.

After about twenty seconds that seem rather like two hours, his fingers finally stop pinching around my body. He watches me with a large grin still on his lips, his eyes brimming over with the haughtiness of the power he knows he possesses over me.

“Are you quite done yet?” I gasp out, completely flushed and breathless.

“I don’t know.” He looks up at the ceiling high above our heads, pretending to be in deep thought as if this choice will actually impact his life.

“Just stop.” I snap irritably, my ribs throbbing from the abuse and my lungs wheezing with every hurtful inhale of air.

“Ah, ah, ah…” He warns, his hands shifting up from my hips back onto my waist, threatening to continue his torture.

“Please! I forgot the please!” I quickly add, hoping he’ll take pity on me and let me be.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” Niall sing-songs, nodding his head but not removing his hands from my over-worked body. “Alright, how about we do this: Tell me I’m hot and I’ll stop.”

“You’re so fucking shallow.” I laugh, resting my forehead against his shoulder, my back slouching onto the wall he has me pinned up against. He’s unbelievable.

“But you’re not denying that I’m hot, are you?” Niall asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he makes slurping sounds with his mouth. “Thirsty much?”

“Shut up!” I grin, socking him upside his ego-inflated head. “I’m not saying it.”

“Oh? So you rather I just”– he squeezes my sides suddenly, making me howl and twist against his arms–
“do that instead?”

“No, no! Okay, I’ll say it! I’ll say it, alright!” I yelp, pushing against him to try and make him stop. He halts, waiting for me to go through on my promise.

“You’re…” I trail off, inhaling and exhaling heavily to try and get air flowing back through my body. “…hot. You’re hot.”

“Come on, now! You can do better than that. Say it with feeling.” Niall imposes, twitching his fingers on my hips to scare me.

I grit my teeth, wanting to make him pay for this.

“The only thing you’re going to be feeling is my knee against your ballsack if you don’t get the fuck off of me…” I growl lowly, blowing a few strands of hair away from my face.

“What was that, sweetheart? I don’t think I heard you.”

“I said you’re hot– you’re so hot Niall.” I moan dramatically. “So damn rugged and incredibly sexy…”

“That’s more like it.” He nods in satisfaction, skidding his hands off of my body and onto the wall behind me.

I breathe out in victory, silently cheering that the horrible persecution has come to an end. I tilt my head back, letting it rest on the cool cement wall. My gaze lingers on Niall’s eyes, intrigued by the way they flicker with childish glee at how he’d managed to get what he wanted.

“You’re an asswipe.” I finalize, a small smile playing itself across my chapped lips as I watch him crow in amusement, wondering about how insanely comfortable his laughter makes me feel.

“Never heard that one before– gonna have to write it down.” He chuckles, his hand mindlessly brushing along my cheek as he pushes a few other strands of rouge hair away from my eyes.

My words catch at the unexpected gesture, his touch electric against my warm and slightly damp skin. His fingers don’t slide away but rather stay perched on my jaw, his fingertips softly swiping against the skin of my face.

My throat contracts, any sound I try to make being dissembled by my mute vocal cords. My eyes lull closed, the gentle caress of his skin against mine being oddly pleasureful and deeply satisfying.

“Why did you care?” I blurt out the sentence before my mind has even had time to review what it means, my emotional instincts taking charge of my mouth and pushing the words past my lips.

Niall’s eyebrows scrunch together, tiny ridges forming inbetween both of them, the question having caught him off guard. I don’t blame him; even I’m frazzled as to why this thought has vocalized itself at such abruption.

“What do you mean?” He questions skeptically.

“When you cut me off you said you did it because you didn’t want me to get my stomach pumped, meaning you were showing concern towards me. If I’m right, concern for someone means you worry for their well-being, and when you worry for someone’s well-being it means you care for them. And if I know one thing about guys like you, it’s that you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” I come to a realization that it is not my mind that is speaking, but instead my heart is taking control. “Why did you care?”

Strange emotional sensations towards Niall surface from a hidden place inside me, feelings I’ve never truly experienced mixing with the normal physical attraction I already established I felt for him when we first encountered one another. This is not just the typical allurement I feel whenever I see a handsome boy around the mall or on campus– no, this is something that digs deeper into my mind to bring out something so much more than just sexual inclinement. I think I’m developing feelings for Niall.

I watch with interest now as the question I had asked him rests into his mind, the way his concentrated eyes are flicking around different points of my face showing me that he is experiencing the same tidal waves of feelings as I am.

Eventhough the dark lighting of the house dims my vision and the loud sounds of screaming college students intertwined with blaring music muffles any noise we try to make, I feel as if the whole world has been set on pause, nothing else being of importance except for me and Niall.

“I don’t know…” He finally mumbles, his voice a bit shaky. His eyes flash with what translates to me as panic, his mind befuddled as to what the hell is happening between us right at this moment. His eyes have the wide deer-caught-in-headlights look and from what I can see of my reflection in them, mine are just the same.

An uncomfortable and eerie silence stretches between us, making me frenzied to erase everything I had started. We had been doing so well up until the point where I decided to ruin everything by asking that irrelevant question, and now I want to do anything to get the calm composure that we had before back.

“Maybe you just wanted to benefit your apology.” I suggest, doing everything in my power to not look at him in the face. “You probably still felt bad about the whole thing even after I forgave you so you just wanted to make sure I was okay so you wouldn’t feel any more guilt.”

“I…I don’t know…” Niall repeats, tearing his eyes away from my face and focusing on the ground. I can see his cheeks are flushed and I know it’s not because of the laughing.

“I’ll–I’ll just go now…” I whisper, ducking under his bare arm and taking off at a fast pace to go find Adylan and get as far away from here as possible. I don’t dare look back.

I pass by the first living room in a blur of neon lights and glass bottles, passing into the second room and heading for the kitchen.

Hot tears are starting to gather at the edges of my eyes and it frustrates me that I don’t know why. I don’t feel sad nor happy about what just happened– I just feel empty and hollow. My head whips around as I rub my eyes, trying to locate where my roommate could possibly be. I make up my mind to go into the kitchen for a look, not caring what scarring scene I might be walking into.

Just as I am about to pass under the tall archway that leads out of the living room, I feel a firm hand grip my forearm. I don’t have time to turn around and look before I am roughly pulled away from the entryway, my back meeting the hard surface of a random wall.

I gasp out, fear being my primal emotion to this sudden confrontation. A large hand comes up and cups over my mouth, the person it belongs to putting their index finger over their rosy lips to tell me to not cry out. Niall quietly shushes me, his eyes unsettling yet assuring at the same time.

“How could you just leave me like that?” His voice is low and unsteady, anything he wants to say not seeming to be completely put together in his brain. “You can’t just fuck with my head and then disappear like nothing happened!”

“I-I’m sorry! I just didn’t know what to do and–”

“So what? You’re just going to run away from it? Well, I’m not– I never run away from what I set into motion. We have to sort this out and sort it out now.” Niall is determined to solve this issue, his tone telling me he won’t let me leave until the matter is unraveled. “I don’t want it bugging me for the rest of my life.”

“Okay.” I choke out, nodding my head. “What do you want to say?”

Niall inhales slowly, closing his eyes for a second and thinking about what he is going to say next. His eyes flutter open, glinting with a new-found sense of confidence about the subject.

“Maybe the reason I cared for you was because I still felt guilty– because I felt an indebted remorse and nothing else. Maybe I just wanted to make sure you didn’t wind up in the hospital because then I would be blamed and billed for your lack of responsibility for drinking, considering this house is mainly under my name. Basically, I was just looking out for myself and nothing else– that’s it.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, his true intentions becoming clear as water. I internally laugh at myself, jeering at how pathetic and delusional I had been. How could I have possibly thought that Niall, out of all people, would give even a shred of actual concern or feelings for someone like me? He was just looking out for himself the entire time– nothing new.

I start to struggle against his hold, pushing and shoving against his shoulder and telling him to let me go.
“Okay, you proved your point– it was just you saving yourself from getting in trouble with the campus police. Now please let me go while I still have a little bit of dignity left.”


“What?” I spit, absolutely furious and too emotionally and physically wasted for him to be playing more mind-games. “What do you mean 'no?’”

Niall’s hands reach up and cup my face, a few tears escaping from my eyes at his soft touch. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Oh, what? You’re going to keep me here and dig the knife in deeper? Is this fun for you?” I’m sobbing now, weakly pushing at his chest.

He shakes his head, pleading with me to look at him. I finally do, telling myself that giving him what he wants will make this all go a lot faster and that will allow me to be able to leave sooner. I take a deep breath, ready for the next emotional impact to come.

“Didn’t you notice how before each suggestion, I put in the word 'maybe?’ That means that I’m not fully clear about why I did what I did and what it means for us. Each time I gave a suggestion, it was simply me listing off possible reasons for my actions. For me to finally get my conclusion, I have to not use 'maybe’ but rather the words 'the reason I did this.’ That way you know I’m positive about why I did it and we can finally bring this whole thing to a close.”

I want nothing more than to slap Niall and scream at him that this is not time for him to be bringing up smart dictation and vague reasoning, but my hands are clasped into tight fist against this chest so this option is not available.

“Where the hell are you going with this?” I sniffle, barely keeping myself together.

His eyes soften as he watches the tears roll down my cheeks, his thumbs gliding against my wet skin to wipe away any evidence of my pain.

“Y/N,” he speaks softly, his words gentle and light like a feather. “After you bolted, I quickly thought about your question and I thought about all my possible answers, and I finally came down to the logic behind all of it. The reason I did this was not because I was being selfish and protecting myself, but rather because I actually cared about your safety and about protecting you. If I had walked away when I could have, I would not have been able to live in peace knowing that I left you there– as unexperienced as you are– to put yourself at risk. I cut you off because the thought of you unintentionally hurting yourself because of me making you drink was enough to make me to feel hurt myself. I didn’t do it for myself, I did it for you because I care for you. I normally don’t give a shit about what happens to other people at our parties, and I don’t know why I care about you, but I just know that I do in ways that I have never cared about anyone else and that’s all that matters to me.”

The sound of my blood rushing around my head is the only audible noise I can hear, the weight of Niall’s words making my heart skip a beat.

'He actually cares for me– he actually wants to be with me.’

Niall leans back away from me, my arms dropping to my sides since they don’t have his chest for support anymore. He gives me a bashful smile, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flare red.

He’s nervous for my response. Niall is nervous.

My eyes study his childish features just like I had the first time I had laid eyes on him, his structure being more kid-like now that his cheeks were tinted of rose and his eyes were cast down in a shy gaze. His physical appearance clashes so much with whom he is that it actually makes me laugh, catching him utterly off guard.

“I-Is that good or bad, you laughing?” He stutters out, which only makes me laugh harder. Niall is stuttering.

“What, are you Yoda now?” I poke fun at him about his backwards sentence, making his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of crimson.

His temper rises and takes over, his anger trying to mask how vulnerable he’s allowed himself to be. “Are you fucking kidding me? I tell you about how I feel towards you and you have the fucking nerve to joke around?

I chuckle at his negative rise, the way his eyebrows tilt down and the way his pupils dilate with fury making him seem cuter than ever. Any fear I had of him before has faded away now that I’ve seen him at his most open and weakest point, knowing now that under the layers of rude snappy remarks and high-brand muscle tanks that he’s actually a sappy sweetheart.

He reaches up and clutches his cap in one hand, beginning to pace back and forth as he yanks at the roots of his hair, fully pissed and limitlessly frustrated. “I fucking opened up to you and you laugh at me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Do you know who I am? I’m fucking Niall Horan! I can get any girl I want but instead I’m standing here talking to you while I could have my dick up some hot chick’s–”

I cut him off by lurching forward and snaking my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to mine and finally– finally– pressing my lips against his own. “It’s good, me laughing.”

He’s so startled at first that he drops his snapback, not expecting for me to make the first move since he knows I’m not as dauntless as he is. I’m amused by this– the way his blue eyes widen in surprise and the way his lips part in awe against mine. After a few seconds of being astounded, I feel his lips move over mine, deciding that whatever he was going to say isn’t important anymore. His lips remind me of the alcohol I had consumed– they’re stomach-twistingly addictive.

His scent, his touch– everything about him piles up onto my chest and causes a churning deep in my gut. He’s like a mixture of the most compulsive drugs in the world, and as his skin smooths against mine, I can feel the chemicals collide in a burst of electric waves of pleasure.

Niall shoves me up against the wall again, his hands groping my hips as I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling at the tuffs that stick up around the nape of his neck. He hums in agreement, running his huge hands up my body until he’s holding my jaw with both, the pads of his fingers digging into the skin just below my ears. I fist the cotton fabric of his red muscle tank, smiling into the kiss. I don’t think I can recall a moment where I’ve felt as happy as I do now.

“You’re going to have to make this up to me.” He murmurs inbetween kisses, biting down on my lower lip playfully and nibbling.

“Oh, yeah?” I breathe, digging my nails into his clothed chest as I allow him to dip his tongue into my mouth, the feeling new and strangely rewarding.


I sneak my hand down to the waistband of his shorts, my fingers ducking under his sleeveless shirt and tucking into his belt. I brush my thumb up along the happy trail I’d been admiring earlier, the little hairs bristling against the sensitive skin of my finger pad. His body jerks and I laugh, making him rut his hips into mine once so that my bottom slams into the wall as revenge.

I break the kiss and lean down, grinning as I hear him give a long whine. I pick up his fallen hat, placing it atop my own head. “It looks better on me.”

Niall rolls his eyes, ghosting his lips over my ear as he speaks. “Look at who’s suddenly gotten bold.”

I hum, tilting my head to the side as I feel him sponging kisses below my ear and trailing down the side of my neck. He gives small bites here and there, making me squirm around at the soft pecks.

“About making it up to you…” I trail off, savoring in the sweet feeling of his tongue passing along my skin.

“When you’re ready.” He whispers against my throat, nudging my chin with his nose.

“Thank you for understanding.” I sigh in relief, gripping onto his broad shoulders as he kisses along my collarbone.

“But can I just ask one thing?” Niall brings his eyes up level to my own, pressing his forehead against mine as he blinks at me questioningly.


“This waiting thing– does it apply to dry humping and blowjobs?”

I laugh softly, placing a kiss on his nose and running my hand down through his hair and back, wrapping my arms loosely around his waist.

“We’ll see.”


A/N: Hi guys! So I spent quite a lot of time writing this imagine and I think it’s pretty decent! Sorry if there’s any misuse of punctuation or typoes! I’d really appreciate if you told me what you thought because I feel skeptical about this one and I don’t know why. You’re feedback really helps. :) The song this piece goes with is Chemicals Collide by Boys Like Girls. I made some very minor changes to some of the lyrics just so you know– nothing major, just adding a word here and switching out a phrase there. ;) I really hope you enjoyed it and as always, all the looooveee! xxx

– Andrea ☻

anonymous asked:

Hey, I’ve had a rough day, can the SQUIPs possibly offer some support?

P: Today might have not been so great but tomorrow has the potential to be better so keep your head up! You might’ve had a bad day today but you are strong for making it through the day so don’t let the hardships get you too down. You’re here, you’re alive, and you exist; in the end that’s what matters the most.  

S: You don’t have to embrace everyday with absolute enthusiasm but remember that this, too, shall pass. Bad things won’t linger and things will get better! Maybe it won’t happen in the way you might think it’ll happen but to live is to learn and change so that things won’t stay horrible forever!

M: If you need to find a friend to speak with, I suggest you do. It is alright to seek comfort and release your emotions as it is quite unhealthy for people to pent up their emotions. Do what you must, cry it out, yell it out, talk it out. When you are done with that take a deep breath, give yourself a moment, and progress if you can. It is alright to take your time but do not let that impede your recovery. Humans are creatures filled with potential and you are no exception from that rule.

girls like girls | wanda maximoff

Title: Girls Like Girls

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Y/N struggles with her feelings for Wanda

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1332


Your name: submit What is this?

Saw your face, heard your name

A quiet laugh sounded from the other end of the room, prompting Y/N to look up over her book for the source. Her heart fluttered when she saw a glorious smile across her best friend, Wanda’s face.

She was wearing a burgundy sweater and had wrapped herself in a blanket to avoid the cold as she talked with Natasha. Her cheeks were a faint pink from the air and she was currently resting her chin in her sweater covered hands.

Apparently, whatever they were talking about was rather funny as Wanda kept letting out low chuckles. Her smile was reaching her eyes, something Y/N hadn’t seen in a long time. It had been months since a smile that big had graced Wanda’s face.

A grin crept across Y/N’s face at another one of her giggles. Wanda glanced over at her, making her heart flutter again. She looked back down at the book resting in her hands flustered and biting her lip.

It had been a week since Y/N had realized that she was in love with Wanda. It became clear when Wanda had insisted on taking her out clubbing. Y/N was very nervous about the atmosphere and the looks she was getting from the men there, but it all faded away when Wanda grabbed her hand.

She pulled her out to the dancefloor and danced with her to make her feel more comfortable. Y/N stayed close to her as she swayed and rocked to the beat, an effortless smile on her face as she did. It wasn’t long before Y/N felt comfortable enough to dance as well after watching her.

Her enthusiasm was absolutely contagious as she noticed Y/N finally loosening up. They danced together, Y/N too scared to leave Wanda’s side. It didn’t matter anyways, there in that moment she could have stayed forever.

And when Wanda looked at her and her stomach filled with butterflies, she knew that the new common occurrence was because she wanted to be more than best friends.

At first, she thought ‘It couldn’t be,’ because she had only ever liked guys. This was the first time she had ever had feelings for a girl before. It was new, but it felt normal, like she’s known it all along.

Gotta get with you

A shadow casted over Y/N’s book interrupting her thoughts and causing her to look up. The newest recruit, Peter, stood in front of her, “Do you mind?” He asked gesturing to he chair. She shook her head looking over at Wanda again. A small smile was on her face as she watched her. He immediately recognized the look in her eyes – it was the same way he used to look at Liz, “Do you like her?”

“Huh?” She turned to him, “Do you like her? Wanda?” She nodded, “Of course, she’s my best friend.” He shook his head, “I meant – excuse me, but as more than a friend.” Her heart stopped. Y/N averted her gaze, instead looking down at her book. “I recognize that look.”

“You should tell her. I’m sure she likes you too.” She shook her head again, “I couldn’t, I could never.” Y/N sighed. Her heart must have been beating a thousand miles a minute at the thought, her head racing with emotions because Wanda looked over at her again. Y/N quietly groaned at the sight and ducked her head down to look at the table, “She knows. She has to know.”

Peter glanced over at the other girl quickly, “She’s not looking anymore.” Y/N shut her book and gathered her things, “Thanks, Peter, for trying convince me, but there’s no way.” She scooted her chair away from the table, “Just think about it, please.” His words made her stop. “It’ll be so much more worth it if you do. Trust me.” He finished and Y/N nodded, “I will.”

Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new

Y/N shuffled to her room, thinking about Peter’s words. If someone she had only met recently could pick up on her feelings, then Wanda – a psychic, must have known the second Y/N did. She huffed, carrying her things to her room, wanting nothing more than to just lay down.

She pushed open her door, dropping her jacket and book on her bed. Grabbing a towel, she headed for the bathroom. A nice hot shower and a long nap to sleep it all away.

She turned on the water, letting the heat run over her fingers for a minute before she turned on the shower head. Y/N got in and pulled the curtain closed, grabbing her loofah and her stress relieving eucalyptus soap. She chuckled to herself as she poured it, ‘I’m gonna need a lot of this stuff.’

Isn’t this why we came?

Wanda pushed open the door to Y/N’s room and sat on her bed. She knew Y/N had a crush and she was absolutely determine to find out who. It couldn’t be Peter right? The boy was seven years younger than her.

The shower in the bathroom cut off and it wasn’t long before Wanda was graced with the sight of her best friend wrapped in a towel in the doorway. “H-Hey, Wanda.” She stuttered, rushing to her dresser to find clean clothes. “Hey.”

“W-Why are you here?” She asked, pulling out a gray sweatshirt and some shorts. “Well,” Wanda began, leaning back on Y/N’s bed. “I got a… strong emotion from you earlier.”

“Oh, what was it?” Y/N put on a bra before pulling the top over her head. Wanda had seen her undressed before when they had gotten ready for Stark’s elaborate parties together. It was almost second nature to dress as normal in front of her company.

“Love.” Wanda informed, 'Oh, shit. She knows.’ Y/N thought, her eyes widening as she rushed to put on her shorts. “So who is it?”

“Excuse me?” Y/N said, believing she didn’t hear her correctly. “Who are you in love with?” Wanda asked again, “I could read your mind, but I trust you enough to tell me.”

She had two options: reveal her crush and face the most probable result of rejection or play along with whoever Wanda had in mind. “Who do you think?” Y/N shrugged, going to sit next to her to best friend. Wanda sat up and looked her in the eyes, “Peter.”

Y/N scoffed, “God, no way!” They both broke into a fit of giggles at the insinuation. “He’s adorable! I’ll give him that, but he never stops babbling.” Wanda shook her head, a huge grin on her face, “I think its kind of cute.”

'Well, I think you’re kind of cute.’ Y/N thought to herself. At least she thought she had until Wanda’s face changed. Her face softened a bit and she realized she had said it aloud. 'Its now or never.’ Y/N cleared her throat, “I like you, Wanda.”

Tell me if you feel it too

Y/N looked down at her lap, “I think I always have.” It was quiet for a moment, just the two of them processing their thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, “You don’t like me more than a friend–”

“And how do you know that?” Wanda placed a soft hand on Y/N’s own, “Why would you like me?” Wanda smiled and lifted up the younger girl’s chin, “For starters, you’re my best friend– you’re funny, smart,” Wanda wiped a tear from Y/N’s face, “Beautiful.”

“And besides,” Wanda leaned in as Y/N closer her eyes. Their lips touched, sending sparks through Y/N’s body. She couldn’t help the giant grin on her face when Wanda pulled away and shrugged, “Girls like girls like boys do– nothing new.”

dompaul12  asked:

Waid and Samnee on Captain America, let the good times roll again!

…hopefully? I’m absolutely excited, but my enthusiasm comes with a major asterisk.

Don’t get me wrong: no matter what, this is an immeasurable improvement. These guys are responsible for - I’d argue - the most influential comic of the 2010s in Daredevil, and while Waid has been grievously overextending himself lately, he always gives Samnee his very best. Waid sure as hell gets Steve Rogers, and Samnee’s style is a perfect fit, especially with Matt Wilson and Joe Caramagna onboard. At face value, attaching this team to the book is the best possible move Marvel could make in terms of detoxifying Cap as a brand in the immediate wake of Secret Empire.

One immediate concern though would be that Waid has repeatedly stated he’s gunshy about extended runs on characters he’s written at length before, a fear seemingly borne out by his second time up to bat at The Flash (though by all accounts the problems there were far more with editorial than with him). Given this run was rumored far in advance though, if the rumors hold true the pair are only here for 6 issues up through #700 for some immediate rehab work, before turning things over properly to Ta-Nehisi Coates with #701, and I imagine these two can pull out six issues worth of rip-roaring action in the mighty Marvel manner pretty much in their sleep.

That isn’t the real worry though. That’d be the description of this run:

This is Steve listening to people to find out how they feel about him and what they want from him from now on…This is him getting back in touch with Captain America, learning how people perceive Captain America in light of Secret Empire.

That makes it sound like we’re going to be getting Politically Topical Mark Waid, and given that’s the guy who gave everybody Strange Fruit and Champions? That is absolutely a cause for concern. He clearly has the best intentions, but he’s also clearly a straight white 50-something dude trying to assert his progressive credentials as hard as he can, sticking his head into some very touchy business and not exactly taking criticism of how it goes about it well. If that kind of material is going to form the heart of his stint here, it’s absolutely likely it’ll go right off the rails, even with some AAA+ storytelling bolstering it. I’ll absolutely be picking it up, but I’d also advise people not to be shocked if it ended up in the territory of Problematic Fave at best.

Then again, Waid also wrote this:

…so maybe it’ll all turn out okay. You wanna hit pause in the middle of your comic to have someone talk about how awesome the main character is, that’s how you do it.

Imagine being super excited to move out on your own (finally!) You’ve been planning and budgeting and doing every other thing you can think of to prep for the move, but there’s just one thing that you can’t seem to get your mind off of. 


The entire two and a half weeks leading up to your big move, you’ve noticed the Trickster getting more and more distant. You’ve asked for his help getting things ready, to try and and include him, but he always seemed to get moodier and moodier the more packing you got done. Finally, you had told him if he couldn’t get it together and be helpful, he could leave. That had been several days ago and you haven’t seen him since. 

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Skin Deep

Requested: The reader has a really nice body (hourglass figure with curves “you know, Beyoncé”) but she doesn’t like the way she looks. Reid tries to tell her that he loves who she is and not what she looks like.

He can’t help but glance her way every now and then. Watching, a little forlornly, as she runs around the office. She has a smile for everybody, and people tend to gravitate towards her. Magnetic. That’s what she is. For months she has been his friend and his colleague, but at some point that stopped feeling like enough. Not that he doesn’t enjoy being her friend. He just finds himself wishing they could be something more, as futile as those feelings are.

And he’s apparently not being very subtle about it. “Yo, Reid. A picture would last longer.”

Morgan’s voice jolts him back out of his own head. “What?” he asks.

“You’ve been starting at Y/L/N all day, man. You know, you could just tell her how you feel.”

Color creeps into his cheeks, and he stares down at the paperwork on his desk. The possibility has occurred to him before, he just can’t see it ending well for him.

“Because there’s no way I’d measure up to all those other guys.” Who she is has always been what attracted him to her, but he can’t deny the obvious – Y/N is beautiful. And he’s not the only one to notice. It happens when she joins him for a coffee run, or when they go with friends to a movie. Out in the field, in the office. Men are always flirting with her. Why would someone like her ever choose someone like him?

Derek shakes his head. “Have you tried just complimenting her? Tell her she looks nice. Get her to see you in a different light. It’s not that hard kid, I mean, she could rival Beyoncé with that body.”

It’s not hard to see she’s pretty, but complimenting her about it? It’s not easy, not for him. Once he crosses that line, there’s no going back. By saying something, he’s making his affections known, and he’s so terrified of being rejected by her. He can’t lose her friendship. She means too much to him for that. 

He lets his gaze wander over her, following the soft curves of her body, imagining what it would be like to be able to touch her in a manner that’s more than friendly; picturing it in the back of his mind like he has a thousand times before. She moves with a fluid grace, and he never tires of watching her.

One of the agents from Counter-Terrorism is chatting with her at the moment, looking her over with a charming smirk. She laughs at his jokes, but not quite the way she laughs at Reid’s. What does that mean? What is the disparity between them? He’s not sure whether it’s cause to be disappointed or encouraged.

That’s the thing about magnets – they attract everything around them.

Morgan says, “If you don’t do it, you’re gonna miss your chance. Someone else is gonna snatch her up. What are you waiting for?”

What is he waiting for? For the sort of confidence that Hotch and Rossi carry. For the sort of witty banter that Morgan has mastered. For a sure sign that she won’t reject the advances of someone like him. But can he sit by and watch her fall for someone else?

Agent Anderson winks at her, and she winks back, and he knows in that instant that no, no he can’t.

“Go,” says Morgan. “Tell her she looks pretty.”

Summoning every ounce of courage he can lay claim to, he follows her to the kitchenette, where she pours a cup of coffee. When she turns around to see him, she’ looks surprised to see him, but flashes him a smile.

“Y-you look beautiful today,” he stammers.

“Thanks, Spencer.”

“N-not that you don’t look beautiful every day! Because y-you do. I mean, scientifically speaking, attraction is a combination of biological and psychological factors, and wide hips are an indicator of fertility and the strength to give birth, which is why an hourglass figure has typically been thought of as the conventionally attractive body type – which you have– and I just thought it was worth mentioning that you looked nice since such compliments have been suggested to boost self-esteem as well as to convey interest in a rom-”

“Please stop.” Her voice carries an unfamiliar edge and he’s taken aback by the way her smile has vanished. Is that his fault? Has he said the wrong thing?

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” he says quietly. Is it because he said it? He has no right to talk to her like that, someone who is so clearly out of his league. There’s no way they could be any more than friends, not when she looks like that, and he looks like… well, like him.

“You know you’re one of the only guys here who doesn’t comment on my appearance?” she asks. He’s aware. Because any time he’s considered doing so, he gets too flustered to actually speak the words out loud. “No matter where I go, I get attention from men because of my body. I hate it. I don’t need strangers to tell me they think I’m pretty. It doesn’t make me feel confident or beautiful. Not at all.”

Reid doesn’t know what to say so he stands there, hands in his pockets, wishing he could take back his words. He doesn’t want to make her, his friend, feel uncomfortable. That’s not what friends do. Never did he stop to consider the possibility that those compliments made her feel uncomfortable.

Y/N sighs and mutters, “I don’t even like the way I look. I’m not thin like JJ or Agent Sharp. Every comment just reminds me of everything I’m insecure about.” She glances at him and adds, “You never mentioned my appearance. I liked that.”

It sounds like an accusation.

Mentally he curses Morgan and his advice. What set him apart was his attention to who she is, and not to what she looks like. He knows that there’s nothing he can say to make any of her insecurities go away, but he’s willing to try anything to make her feel just a little more comfortable.

She’s magnetic – but perhaps magnets have no idea the sort of power they possess.

“I never thought I had the right to say anything,” he blurts out. “I was afraid to say anything that could be interpreted as romantic interest because there was no chance someone like you would be interested in someone like me. After all, you’re my friend, and you look… you look like Beyoncé! I mean, you’re incredible and funny and sweet – and yes, physically attractive, but that’s not important. What’s important is that you’re kind to everyone, and you laugh at my jokes even when they’re not very good, and you stand up for people who need help. You don’t share the same body type as JJ, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful girl I know. And you have the most beautiful heart, too.”

It comes out in a rush of rambling, but he means every word. It certainly doesn’t hurt that she’s pretty, but that wasn’t what caught his eye first. He fell in love with her heart. While he allows himself to steal looks at her throughout the day, he finds she’s in his mind much more often. He replays the sound of her voice and the way she laughs, pictures her smile and the way the corners of her eyes crinkle when she does so. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed that she has a well-defined waist, or a nice butt, however that was only natural. Biology and hormones. What he feels for her, it goes so much deeper than skin and bone.

That’s what this is about?” The frustration on her face shifts to surprise. “You’re trying to hint at romantic interest?”

His face is almost certainly the color of a cherry tomato, but he’s definitely gone beyond whatever line he was trying to avoid. The only way out is through.

“If I said yes, would that be detrimental to our friendship?”

She laughs, and it puts him on guard. Historically speaking, girls laughing in the face of his romantic advances hasn’t been good for him. But then she says, “I don’t think so. I’ve been hoping you would ask me out at some point. I just figured I wasn’t your type.”

She thought that he wouldn’t want her? The notion is so absurd he can’t help but chuckle himself. They’ve both been dancing around their own emotions all this time, so sure that the other could never reciprocate.

“If I were to ask, you’d say yes?” Reid tries to remain calm, but the question carries undeniable enthusiasm.

“Absolutely.” Four syllables have never sounded so perfect.

“In that case, maybe we could go out to lunch together? It’s possible that if you’re on a date, it could help deflect undesired attention. Though, uh, I’d be happy to make up for that with desired attention, if you’d like.”

“I’m not entirely sure what that offer means, but yes. I would love that.”

Her acceptance feels surreal, and he’s tempted to pinch himself just to make sure this isn’t some dream, or a very elaborate practical joke Morgan has set up. Because the most beautiful girl in the room – in any room, in his opinion – has agreed to go out on a date with him. The same girl who can quote all the Star Wars movies and willingly sits through Doctor Who marathons with him. Who never makes fun of him, even when he screws up. 

“It just means,” he says, “that I think you’re lovely. In every possible way. And I’m going to remind of that as long as it takes for you to see it too.”

Her smile is so bright it could melt him. She is magnetic, and he’s been pulled so far into her orbit that he doesn’t think he’ll ever shake this feeling. “Then I suppose lunch is a good place to start.”

“Y/N? I just have one more question.”


“Who’s Beyoncé?”


“… I’m telling you, Cara, she knows who I am! She knows I’m the leader of the Renegades!” Maria explained her day with absolute enthusiasm and lots of hand gestures, which was very out of character for her. Cara summed it up to the drinks they’d been having. “She’s onto us, Cara. I know it!

“Are you sure she isn’t just genuinely looking to join?” Cara worriedly watched Maria talk like a Monte Vistian. Maybe she was one, too?

Maria shook her head, “Nononononono,” she wagged her finger in the air to emphasize her point. “She knows.”

Cara knew she couldn’t be drunk, but plumbob was she entertaining.


Check out Peter’s Malcolm and Julius meta in the 105/202 commentary!    

Peter: Now look, Alexander here is an awesome arguer.
Armando: Right, yes.
Peter: You see, that’s what happens: unlike the other people who sort of cave in under Malcolm’s assaults–
Armando: That’s right. Yes, Malcolm finds it difficult to argue back with– And and–
Peter: Yes.
Armando: And he doesn’t swear does he?
Peter: No, but–
Armando: It’s a different sort of personality.
Peter: Yes, but Julius also never stops.
Armando: Yes.
Peter: He never sleeps, he never gives up. He’s constantly, constantly putting forward his point of view.
Simon Blackwell: And also if there is ever a point where Malcolm is really swearing AT him, he’ll just look away and wait for it to stop. And then they go back to arguing.
Armando: And will occasionally laugh, actually.
Peter: But I always think Malcolm thinks it’s a victory if he gets him to swear.

By which measurement Malcolm is definitely victorious! Yay, Malcolm! But really yay us! for one of the fastest, densest, most overlapping-dialogue scenes of the whole series.

But what the commentary transcription doesn’t really capture is 1) Peter’s absolute enthusiasm when he talks about working with “Alexander” and how much he clearly enjoyed the hell out of doing this scene with him* and 2) how Peter is pretty much laughing (while very much blurring the lines between himself and Malcolm) when he revels how getting Julius to swear is always one of Malcolm’s goals regardless of what they’re actually arguing about.

*A scene that is already very long as aired – over three minutes  – but even so, from the obvious edits I would guess a ton of stuff must have been cut out. I’m pretty sure once Malcolm and Julius (or should I say Peter and Alex) got rolling with the improv and the arguing and the wind-ups and the subtext they could have kept going FOREVER or at least until the cameras ran out of battery.

Or, you know, until the Human Resources

were no longer outside.

I Thought You Were Different: Book 3 (Part 15/?) (Steve Rogers x reader)

Part 14

Broken bones healed, bullet holes closed, and bruises faded away to nothing.  Sometimes they were replaced with new ones or another bone cracked under pressure, but that mission would come to be known as one of the worst in Avengers history.  Every mission that came after it was laden in an unspoken fear that the team might see worse, but as each one had come and gone and had not seen that fear realized, it quickly went back to just another day in the world-saving business.

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Nikolaj & Gwendoline & Plays & Friends

A summary of that one time I met Nikolaj and Gwendoline (also known as one of the best days of my life). I’m going to be focusing on my personal experience with them and stand out moments rather than the play itself.

Apologies if my post resembles ginmo’s as we stuck close the whole time so we’re likely to have similar stories. I’m so glad you were there too, gin, because your excitement and enthusiasm were absolutely contagious and I knew you were trying to suppress your inner fangirl as much as I was! It was a really special experience and I loved sharing it with you <3

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