frat boy one direction

Frat Boy Pt. 8

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6,  part 7 (1), part 7 (2)

HELLO FRIENDS HE HAS RETURNED TO YOU. It’s shorter than most updates, but necessary things are happening to push the story along and one mystery is revealed! It’s always lovely to hear your thoughts or guesses about what’s happening. Your frat boy has missed you xx

It’d been an utter disaster.  You hadn’t eaten much at all last night and the dull throbbing in your head was a reminder that alcohol on an empty stomach wasn’t the best idea.  Especially when it’d been expensive enough to be smooth and light and what you think alcohol should taste like.  It had hit you even harder on the ride back to your dorm, the numbness in your hands not entirely due to the pricks of cool air against your skin, something you realized after you stumbled out of the passenger seat and Renny had to pick you up . Your whole body was completely numb at that point.  The reason for your numbness was the same reason you’d slept without a nightmare last night, and it was the reason you (almost) slept through your morning class and only had time to throw on a sweatshirt, jeans, and sunglasses before, quite literally, running to English.

You were late, making sure to close the door quietly behind you this time, but the pair of eyes you expected to see whipping around to follow you to your seat with a seductive glimmer weren’t there.

He’d ditched.

Only Niall was there to mutter a quick “Hey Y/N” as you passed him to reach your seat.  The teacher started talking about something having to do with how everyone’s analysis was sub-par on the last essay, but if you were being honest you didn’t care, you couldn’t even concentrate.  Though you were facing the front, your mind kept drifting behind you, to the image of the empty seat where you’d gotten used to seeing his long body confidently sprawled out and leant back, one elbow propped up on the arm chair and head cocked as if he were pretending to listen.  It was annoying how even though he wasn’t here he could still somehow take control of your thoughts.  It’d be easier to ignore him if he wasn’t so damn infuriating, just the thought of last night made your blood boil, but the words you’d said came back to you, slowly, bit by bit.

Go back to your fake girlfriend who clearly understands you so much better.

People have planes and go to Europe on a three day weekend…

Creepily small wrists!

Had you really ran your mouth that much? To him?!  You groaned a bit and the person beside you turned with a loaded look -Weirdo- before returning their attention back to the board.  No matter how true your words were, you wouldn’t have told him all that completely sober.  At all.  You had a mind that was quick to get indignant and when the alcohol came in, the filter went out and there was only the Lord to help the poor person caught in the crossfire.  A rush of embarrassment flooded you and you’d regretted saying one word to him.  You should’ve played it cool, acted like you didn’t care that he was with someone else, not made a fool out of yourself.  He probably thought you were someone easily charmed by money when he’d paid for your meal or some bitter charity case and your sad speech last night just proved it. 

You realized you were kicking yourself and tried to stop your mind from spiraling any further.  If there’s one thing you hated most about boys it was that they could make you feel absolutely stupid.

Yet here you were.

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Frat Boy Pt. 6

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

This is the longest thing I’ve written on here, EVER.  Not sure if that jumbled it up, but thank you to everyone for sticking around to read about this crazy frat boy, sending me messages and asks and song recs for the playlist!  This chapter’s a bit of a revealing one, and little almost imperceptible layers are chipped away. Let’s see if he’s ruing the day yet, yeah? xx (shout-out to @lovelhes for the bomb mood board, love you bb)

It was 2:54 AM by the time Renny got back.  You knew because the comfort Zayn had brought you dwindled fast with each step you took away from him, so much so that by the time you got to the doors of your building, your legs were shaking from how frantic you were.   It had been much too dark outside, each innocent bush and tall tree beautiful in the daylight suddenly twisting into something sinister, hiding a dark figure just waiting to grab you and slit your throat as you fall to the ground with a soundless shout.  Even in the grossly fluorescent hallways that seemed oddly empty for 1 am, you turned each corner quickly for fear of who’d be waiting on the other side.  Even the shut of the heavy door behind you didn’t give you peace and when you’d swept your room and checked the closet for potential predators hiding behind hanging clothes, you knew you were being silly, so absolutely ridiculously silly. But your furiously beating heart told you otherwise.  

You couldn’t fall asleep after that.  

But you pretended to as Renny got ready for bed, as she quietly tip-toed through the room, the click of her low-lit lamp as she settled under her covers once again coating the room in an inky stillness.  Her little snores comforted you in the slightest, but she wasn’t awake, she couldn’t distract you from your thoughts.  And as your eyes bore up into the ceiling, seeing past it to nothing at all, a hand lay on your throat.  

The stream that ran red, his fists, the snake tat, his touch, their smell, the men, his arms, the safety you felt in them.  It wasn’t fair, none of it was.  That he could make you feel something that felt so right and toss it in the trash like it never happened.  You had been fine with being acquaintances, safe at that distance, pretend that you wouldn’t be affected by him, but then he was the one who had to turn it into something more, to turn you into this.  You remembered your words to him and felt a deep sadness seize your chest.  You were a hypocrite.  The weight building inside you contracted into a choke-hold, threatening to crush your lungs with its deadly mixture of guilt, regret, anger, but you were too tired to release it in a sob.  So it sat there.  Refusing to let you sleep.  Suffocating you.  Silly girl, a voice sneered, All this for a boy you haven’t gone on a date with. The moan of his name in that unfamiliar voice rang loud in your head as an unwanted tear rolled straight down to hit your ear.  You willed yourself to numb your mind, to not think about anything, but when had you ever truly had control?

Sometime, in the early hours of the morning, your lids felt heavy and closed without you ever really knowing, the black cloak of the night sealing them shut as the dark twists and pangs building inside of you pushed you off a ledge, forcing your fall into a fitful sleep.

“Did you have a nightmare last night?”  You cringed as Renny took her black eyeliner and dug a little too hard with the tip against your cheek.  You thought about denying it for a moment, but decided against it.  If there was one person you could talk to, it was Renny.

“How’d you know?”

“You kept groaning and- hold on” - she licked her thumb and rubbed below the line she’d just created for the black #17 now on your cheek, smudging it up and using her nail to dig into the skin and remove the extra bits she’d accidently drawn.  She hadn’t asked to draw Harry’s number on you and for that you were thankful.  Your favorite was Louis anyways - “There, perfect. You just kept muttering something and you looked like you were shaking.  I tried waking you up, but you just turned back around and fell asleep.”

“Sorry for waking you,” you offered her an apologetic smile, but she brushed it off.

“You honestly think I mind?  I mean, I’m a little jealous you got to sleep that much, but I was the one who chose not to leave the party.”  You wanted to let out a single sharp laugh at that, but you were better.  “Paw print?”  She brought the pencil to your other cheek and paused, you nodded.  She started to draw the symbol of your school’s mascot, the panther, and for some reason Harry popped into your mind again.  Agile. Dark. Stealthy.

Deadly.

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Frat Boy Pt. 7 (Pt. 1)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Y’all this wasn’t proofread and it’s shorter than the last update, but…. you’ve all waited long enough :) Massive thank you to everyone for being so patient and I always love hearing your thoughts xx

Your eyes were gross and dry when you opened them, instantly begging to be shut against the world, closed where they wouldn’t have to try and see anything that was this bright.  And you were cold, you realized, head instantly turning around and a frown settling on your face as you took in the empty tent.  Renny’s sleeping bag was still discarded in the corner untouched from when Harry had tossed it and no one was beside you.  Had you been imagining it, then?  His warmth, the sturdiness of his body when he’d held you from your nightmare?  The horrifying dream had been a similar one and it stopped when you’d seen the glint of the knife, again.  Even when you’d thought you’d been awake last night, the Harry parts of your memory still seemed like a dream.  That is, until you heard a deep voice say “fuck off” just beyond the tent.

Perhaps you hadn’t been dreaming then?

You instantly smoothed your hair, desperately trying to untangle any knots and fizziness that had occurred in your tossing and turning, and you slapped your cheeks a bit because Renny’d said something before about how that stimulated blood flow.  Though this was coming from a girl who believed you put Vaseline on eyelashes, so- your hands dropped.

You groaned a bit when you stretched your stiff limbs and with a grimace made the effort to dig through your bag wedged in the corner to throw on a fresh t-shirt.  A little excitement bubbled in you and quickened your actions as you tugged on the fresh white blouse.  Your old shorts were going to have to do, because you weren’t going to risk Harry walking in on you.  You took a step to leave, and stopped.  You listened for a few solid seconds and there wasn’t much movement towards your tent and low accents seemed far enough away…Guess you could change if you were super fast in stripping.  You quickly shimmied out of your shorts and were left in just your knickers when you reached for the jeans in the very back corner.  You huffed as you leaned even farther, the stupid backpack was lodged under the sleeping bag and your head was hitting the side of the tent.  You were too lazy to stay in the hunched-back position, palms hitting the floor as if you were stretching, and you cringed when you felt the burn in the back of your thighs.  You really should’ve gone to yoga with Renny.  But if you just inched your hands a little more-

And that was when you heard the unzip of the tent.

“Shit!”

You jumped, head hitting one of the metal rods in the process, and you pulled the flowy blouse down as far as it could go as you whipped around to see a very shocked-

“Zayn!” you squeaked. He blinked hard, twice, still immobile at the entrance, eyes instantly looking anywhere but you.  But his feet were still glued to the floor.

“Shit- sorry,” he spluttered, and he finally turned with a blush, completely flustered.  He even faltered for a moment after turning around before actually leaping away from the entrance with a quick shake of his head. You struck a hand to your face and it dragged down as you cursed yourself for ever believing life would favor you for one freaking second.  You jumped again when a hand pushed its way through the entrance.

“ZAYN! IT’S OCCUPIED!” you screeched, completely incredulous.

“No, I know, don’ worry, jus’ tryin’- tryin’ t’get it-” he zipped the tent shut- “there, good.”  

But it was anything but good.  Your ass had been on full display along with your granny knickers as you were bent over, head to your knees, and he’d seen it all.  More footsteps and cracking brush.

“She in there?” It sounded like an accusation.

The gruff sound made your heart drop to your stomach, but it was fighting to come back up as you realized he was talking about you.  You’d just shimmied into your shorts when the zipper was starting to be tugged at again.

“Doesn’t anybody frickin’, I don’t know, ask to walk in anymore?  I could’ve been completely naked.”

“S’that bad?” His head poked through and the little twinkle in his eye almost made you wish that he had seen you without your shorts.  Almost.  You sank to your knees and his eyes followed.  You ignored the slight smirk that told you he enjoyed the action a little too much.

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College!Harry AU - Part One

You sank back in to your chair as you tried to keep up with the pace which your professor was speaking down at the front. He was mumbling something about the US Judicial System while you sat wishing you hadn’t taken part in that one last round of shots at Liquor last night. You barely remembered waking up at this point, never mind how you got home just a few hours ago, probably stumbling across the campus, your heels digging in to the grass as you walked before finally dragging yourself up the two flights of stairs to find your room mate, Liv, just seconds ahead of you, it would seem, in the drunken walk home stakes.

Yawns appeared one after the other, half from the hangover and half from how boring this class felt this morning. Usually, you’d be so eager to be here, Political Science was what you wanted to do, even with all the added Liberal Arts classes (you were still struggling to understand the American university system) but you suddenly realised why they have Friday and Saturday nights - so you don’t go out on Thursdays…and every other night for that matter. Your eyes were slowly closing every few moments, your brain only awoken by the animated sounds the professor was using for his slideshow and every so often you’d hear the sighs of fellow students as they too were brought out of their relaxed states. He’d done it on purpose, hadn’t he? Every professor on campus knew that almost every first year, sorry, freshman, went to Liquor every Thursday night so they planned their Friday classes to annoy as many students as possible. Thankfully, this professor wasn’t one to save the most important parts of the course for 9am on a Friday nor set a paper to be on his desk by Monday morning.

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Frat Boy Pt. 4

part 1, part 2, part 3

Thank you guys so much for enjoying frat boy, I get so excited each time I hear your responses!  We can all thank @whathefuckeverr for this amazing edit :) Also thanks for being patient everyone, i hope it’s worth it.. ;) xx

He hadn’t held the door open for you.  Granted, you never really expected him to, but when it slammed shut in your face it nevertheless left a chill.

A nosy pedestrian gave you an apologetic glance, and you really wanted to tell them you were definitely not with him, not the guy that walked just as fast as he drove, mumbling a “come on” or huffing every few seconds when you’d fallen behind, not the guy who seemed to be rushing to get away from you, to the cover of the indoors.  But then the sky opened its mouth a little more and you started to feel a drizzle, the stranger was forgotten as you ducked under the awning.  And when you walked through the doors and saw Harry still clad in his practice uniform brushing off the stares that seemed to gravitate towards him, you thought, perhaps you wouldn’t completely mind if you were with him.  You waited a little awkwardly by the door along with the other normal people waiting their turn in the long line Harry had assumedly skipped.  He stood confidently, like he was standing in his living room and not like he’d just jumped to the front on one of Kean’s busiest nights, and you watched curiously as he spoke to the hostess who had the whole Urban Outfitter wardrobe and Tumblr girl pout going on.

The look you clearly weren’t going for.

When he gestured behind him with a little look your way, and the hostess followed his gaze, you offered a small smile and saw her brows knit together a bit in what you could only guess was distaste.  It stung, but you were more focused on the way he leaned towards her just the slightest to say something a little lower, and the way her pout suddenly turned up with a giggle from his huskily-spoken words.

And the way his smile broke into a smug grin as he took in her change of mood.

He broke his focus with the hostess to look back at you, still looking as smug as ever, and you cursed yourself for following him when he tossed his head to come closer.  Truly, it killed you a bit to follow this arrogant panty-dropper, and you mumbled little apologizes to the people you (not so elegantly) brushed past to get there.  You hated the stupid pangs of jealousy at his intimate actions with the hostess when in reality his words were completely meaningless, a means to an end.  Actually, you should be trying to warn the girl before it was too late and she was spread on his bed like a sloppy PB&J and thrown in the trash the next morning by a kid who decided he didn’t like the way the jelly and the peanut butter ran off the edges.

The hostess was quickly leading you through the filled tables to the only open space and when you saw it you wanted to roll your eyes.  The largest booth at the back of the room, and somehow it had Harry written all over it.  That hostess must’ve been a yoga instructor or an acrobat because you were downright struggling to maneuver through everything that quick and Harry, surprisingly, was gracious enough to wait for you.

“Why’d yeh wait by the door?” he asked.  And if you weren’t smarter, you would’ve thought you heard the smallest sliver of concern.

“It was too ridiculously crowded.  But it looks like that wasn’t a problem for you,” you observed.

“We’re friends.”  His tone was dismissive, but you couldn’t trust it.

His hand found its way to your waist to help you forward and you couldn’t quite swivel out of it in the narrow spaces between chairs and tables.

“This isn’t a date Styles.”                                                   

“Never said it was,” he countered.  “M’not cheap enough to take a girl here fo’ a date.  Plus you’re m’tutor now aren’t yeh? ‘M not that kinky.”

“Right, forgot you were rich.  Would you fly her to Spain for dinner then?” you scoffed, but you were cringing at how you couldn’t mask your sudden sour mood.

“Why, d’yeh like Spain?”

You almost seriously questioned if he would and mumbled a never mind.  You never really thought about how rich Harry was, you knew his family was well-known for something, and you were pretty sure it was a big something.  But you’d just never been sure what.  For all you knew, he could own half the oil rigs in Texas and own two private planes.  The rich weren’t exactly scarce in your town, actually it was normal for you to see Ferraris and Rolls-Royces at the grocery store on the daily, and Harry’s family was definitely situated at the top of the rich hierarchy.  You reckoned his family had a collection of exotic cars.

The hostess quickly called a waiter over to clear the table and her persistent glances towards Harry when you slid into the booth set you in a petulant mood.  He’d probably fly the hostess to Spain.  He’d probably be kinky with the hostess in Spain.

He slid in beside you and his hands brushed against yours as he did so, a tingle running up your sides from the gentle touch.

“I know m’not into role play, but you’d still look sexy in a pencil skirt,” he murmured lowly.

You practically choked on air, and before you could mumble an incoherent what? his eyes were already back on the hostess.  Bright with laughter.  And anything but innocent.

“You’re all set.  Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” she said.  And the way she looked directly at Harry with a coy smile and nonchalantly leant down to accentuate her ample cleavage made you think that yes, she really did mean anything.

“Thanks Em. ‘M glad you’re workin’ tonight,” he said warmly, with that crooked smile that could charm the knickers off your gran.  Em.  The intimacy in which he spoke those words was twisting the knife lodged deep in your stomach.

Was everything that came out of his mouth this seductive-sounding?  You weren’t making this up were you?  You couldn’t possibly.

“The usual?” she asked, in that familiar way that made you grit your teeth with annoyance.

“‘M not sure yet, we’ll get back to yeh soon,” he sent her a little wink and you swore she actually swooned.  A small flustered smile befell her and Harry was watching it all, his charming persona never faltering.  “Well when you figure it out you know where to find me,” she said, turning her head and wiggling her hips a little too much when she walked away.   Her long blonde hair was perfectly curled and you were envious of how it seemed to fall so naturally, swish each way when she walked.  For a moment, you regretted throwing your hair in a bun.

Harry suddenly ran his hands up and down his face once and leant back with a sigh, your body tensing just the slightest when you sensed his arm fall just above your shoulders.

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” you asked.  You couldn’t help it, the seed had been planted and it was going to nag at you all night if you didn’t just ask him.  Besides, there was no harm in it - nothing was ever going to happen between him and you so there was no need to be bashful.

You saw the tug at his cheeks.  “Yeah, friends. I stop in every now and then.” He stopped to think a moment. “She got sloppy drunk once but that night was just a mistake all ‘round I reckon.”

“I imagine you have a lot of those,” you mused.

“I’ll never be with a woman too fucked up to enjoy it,” he said shortly. “She came onto me and she was proper embarrassed about it all the next day when I told her what ‘appened, apologized and everythin’.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugged before looking at you with an amused glimmer lighting his eyes.  “You’re the one who wanted to know.”

“I never-” your denial faltered.  Had you asked him?  “You don’t need to tell me about your sex life,” you said quickly, covering up your previous hesitation.

“The glares yeh were givin’ her said otherwise, but don’t go on and blush about it, m’flattered s’all.”  The cocky grin broke across his face and the knife you’d felt in your stomach quickly melted by a fire you weren’t quite sure you wanted to acknowledge at the moment.

“Glad we’re inside though, startin’ t’rain now innit?” His eyes never left you, and you felt forced to look outside the windows now wet from their natural shower.

“Yeah,” you sighed.  It hit you for a moment where this conversation was going and suddenly you laughed loudly.  “I refuse, absolutely refuse, to talk about the weather with you Harry.  Let’s…” You reached for your bag that wasn’t there.

“Study,” he finished for you.

“Right, but-”

Your bag.

It wasn’t there.

“Frick,” you muttered.  Harry quirked an eyebrow. “I forgot the books,” you whispered as the realization sunk in.  You could’ve sworn you’d brought them to the field, but you’d been in such a rush to get over there and then you’d ran back to put on a light coat of makeup… they were in your bag on your bed.  Along with your wallet.

You were an idiot.

Harry hadn’t said anything, but as he took in your crushed face, he barked a laugh and shook his head a bit.  “That’s classic, absolutely classic.”   Your hand shot out to shove him, but he dodged it and it only made your scowl deepen.  “Harry!  You’re laughing at your own failed English grade right now,” you whined.

His laughter subsided but only after mumbling an unbelievable under his breath.  “S’alright, we can still talk about it yeah?  ‘M sure yeh got loads of stuff in that pretty head o’ yours.”  The word pretty slipped out before he could stop it, and unnoticed by you, everything about him froze. 

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Dusk Coloured Kisses

Requested.

Pt. 1

The screeching of your alarm clock wakes you up. Five o’clock. Niall had specifically asked for you to wake up early, you weren’t entirely sure why. But he said he had something planned. Who were you to say no?

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