fratboy harry!

Snog Me Senseless 2

A/N:  Snog Me Senseless was supposed to be a one shot, but then I got more requests for a part 2.  So I combined SMS part 2 with this request.  I can picture parts 3 and 4 already, but only if people really want them.  Let me know what you think please!  I’m not going to mark this as NSFW, but it is sweetly smutty in its own way.  

As always, a HUGE thank you to my betas, @little-black-dress-24,  @niallandharrymakemestrong and @emulateharry.  I consider myself blessed every day to have landed in this supportive community of writers. Next time for sure, @melissas173!!!

You sigh as Harry’s lips gently part yours, and your hands reach to wrap around his neck, pulling his mouth closer to yours as you slide your tongue along his. He’s wrapped his left arm around your waist, and he’s leaning into you, using his slight height advantage to bend your head back as he deepens the kiss. Your emotions are swirling.  

It had only been a week since the frat party where you first learned to snog, and you had been practicing every day since with Harry.  Whereas his tongue had felt foreign inside your mouth the first time, you now relished the times when he kissed you like this, breathing through your respective noses to prolong the amount of time you could stay attached to each other.  It was nearly lunchtime, and Harry’s stomach was growling.  You hear the rumble and giggle a bit as you manage to move the gum he’s been chewing into your mouth as you end the kiss.  

Keep reading

Navigation Sheet A-I

loveyooumeanit  asked:

Harry but 37, 40 or 50 you pick! Haha

Okay, love, here ya go. I went with #50: “Oh come on, one lick won’t kill you!” LOL I had no idea where I would go with this, but I ended up going completely AU fratboy Harry. It’s kinda weird, forgive me.


Harry Styles was a cocky asshole. You knew it, everyone within your circle of friends knew it. Hell, everyone on campus probably knew it. He had a reputation and although you wouldn’t say you knew him well, you’d run into him enough to make your own assumptions.

So why in God’s name you had allowed yourself to be alone with him for a few minutes, you’d never know. There was no arguing that he was attractive. You would even go as far as to say he was incredibly hot and sexy, and most likely amazing in bed. But you’d been warned too many times at various parties to stay away from him because he was bad news and would only break your heart.

But tonight you didn’t care. Your heart had been broken and patched up so many times, you doubted it even beat the same. You knew the difference between love and sex, and right now love was the last thing on your mind.

Keep reading

Frat Boy - Harry Styles One Shot

Request #49: “I’m really drunk, please help me.”

The bass was rocking through the speakers, wracking your body with vibrations and making it harder for you not to spill the alcohol in your hand, which, frankly, was already a difficult task thanks to the people bumping into you and slicking you with their sweat.  Not that you’d necessarily needed the alcohol in the first place.  In fact, you’d hardly touched it.  You were much, much too amused at the sight in front of you.

The tall fit guy with tanned skin and tattoos for days stood atop the makeshift DJ stage that looked dangerously close to collapsing by the amount of people packed on and surrounding him, aggressively jumping to the beat.  You couldn’t help but giggle as your infamous classmate Harry drunkenly pumped his fist alongside his frat brothers and picked the next song, but as smashed as he was (or should be by the amount he’d been drinking that night) his hands spun the records with incredible precision and skill, clearly at ease with the DJ job the frat had given him.  And why wouldn’t he be?  From what you’ve heard about him and the little you’d seen yourself, he was the perfect confident person to manage the energy of the party - that is, unless someone angered him.  His eyes suddenly met yours from above the crowd, and for a moment you thought they were just blankly looking in your direction, but the way a chill swept through you despite the humidity of the room made you wonder…

Even the chills weren’t sufficient evidence though, and you would’ve continued to doubt yourself if he hadn’t grabbed the microphone from his frat brother (Liam was it?) who was currently freestyling.

“Y/N s’hheerre!!!!!!” he slurred into the mic, voice riddled with elated surprise.  He leaned a little too far from saying your name and had to fall on a pretty girl wearing what could only be called underwear in order to break his fall.  You didn’t miss the way his hand went to her little waist to steady himself and the smirk on his face when he took in her clothing, or rather, lack of.  It was a known fact Harry got around, and for those of the girls he hadn’t gotten with yet, the other half were waiting in the wings and hoping they’d get their chance.  It was stupid that he could practically have any girl he wanted, but it wasn’t entirely without cause.  He was one of the most attractive guys at your school, cocky and confident, a dash of arrogance, but incredibly charismatic.  For all these reasons and more you couldn’t be justified in feeling surprised at his flirtatious behavior, let alone hurt, so you ignored the little jab of irrational jealousy that prickled your skin.

You hardly knew Harry, only had one class with him and when you’d missed a day for being “sick” (though really you’d just slept in), Harry had offered to give you the notes.  A little uncharacteristic as you thought he never paid attention in class, but you weren’t in a position to complain.  When he said to come by the frat to pick them up, you hadn’t thought there would be…well…this.

The moment you’d walked up the front yard and successfully side-stepped projectile vomit (but just barely) before running into a shirtless guy and girl connected by gaping mouths, you knew there had to have been some kind of miscommunication.  You weren’t sure if Harry had simply forgotten the huge rager his frat was hosting before inviting you to collect the notes or if that was his sly way at an invitation.  If it was, you’d clearly missed the memo.  You almost turned around and decided to come back to the frat house in the morning - your pajama shorts and old band t-shirt weren’t exactly party material, and honestly, how did you expect to find him in an overcrowded house?  But after coming so far you figured - why the hell not.  You’d already walked all the way across campus to get here and you hadn’t gotten all that cardio in for nothing.

You were really on a roll tonight.

And apparently so was Harry.

You saw him lean down and move his hand up the girl’s waist so it was wrapped around her shoulder.  He leant down to whisper something in her ear, causing her to blush with lips parted in a soundless laugh.  This time you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed.  There was a disgusting amount of sweat slathered on you that, mind you, had not come from you and now another shower was in order even though you just took one 2 hours ago.  And it was probably midnight now and you had an 8 AM the next morning.  And he hadn’t warned you about a party.  And he’d seen you and knew you were waiting for him.  That meant he knew you were watching him flirt with some girl.  He probably got some sick power trip from it.

You didn’t mind waiting when you were watching him on stage alone, a little voice murmured.

You wanted to strangle that little voice.  You definitely could not afford to even think about Harry that way.  No, not him.

Definitely not him.

Although he was a soccer jock and major partier, he had this other…more boyish side to him you’d only seen a glimpse of in class when you’d share short conversations.  You hadn’t expected to see that from the reputation he’s garnered, in all honestly you thought he’d be some quick-tempered self-absorbed frat boy in every sense of the word, but the Harry you’d seen was really interesting and engaging.  That boyish side to him was charming and disarming all the same.  It made you wonder how many other people, other girls, he’d shown that same side too.

Maybe that’s what reeled them in.

Definitely not the chiseled jaw and dark hair and piercing green eyes and athletic Greek God bod.  No, not that.

Definitely not that.

You turned away from the sight in front of you, not being able to stand seeing Harry work his charm on another while you waited along the sidelines.  For a reason you weren’t ready to admit, you raised your cup and took another sip of the cheap alcohol, wincing as it burned down your throat.  This was utter crap, and soon you felt its unwelcome warmth settle in your stomach.  Sweat droplets were beading down your back and you felt your hair stick to the back of your neck.  Everything was too hot.  How was everybody not dying of a heatstroke in here??

“S’cuse me, pardon me.”  You heard a deep British accent shout above the music.   

You turned around to see Harry stalking through the crowd, powerfully pushing through the grinding hormone-crazed students, his eyes already focused on you.  He didn’t smile or give much recognition when you met his gaze except for a slight smirk, his curls had been dampened a bit from sweat and probably strangers’ alcohol, but his eyes were still glowing.  Those are intoxicating enough, you thought.  He didn’t stop moving until he was right in front of you, his arms immediately engulfing you in a massive hug.  You froze at the unfamiliar gesture, body immediately going rigid as your face was pressed against his chest and you tried to ignore the fact that despite being sweaty, this stupid beautiful man still managed to smell good, a waft of his expensive cologne making you want to stay squeezed in his arms all night.

“Thought you weren’t comin’” he rumbled, and with an ear pressed to his side, you felt the vibrations in his chest.  His limbs were heavy and hot, his entire body like a giant heater, and if you were in another frame of mind (and a much cooler situation) perhaps you would’ve noticed how his body melted into yours and savored the way all your grooves were pressed snugly together.  But you weren’t.  You were in a sweaty hormone-induced sauna.  And right now you thought this might just be the end of you.

“Can’t…breathe…” you managed to whisper.

“Sorry,” he slurred.  His arms reluctantly loosened around you and his eyes grew wide once they met your own.  You weren’t quite sure why.

Keep reading

2

2013//2017

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.

Keep reading

Okay my lovies…here it is…
Part 3 of the “fratboy Harry” blurb lol. In case you missed them, here’s Part 1 and Part 2.
This is kinda turning into a story I think. Hope you enjoy.


Five days. Five fucking days since the party.

When you and Harry had walked out of the bedroom together, nobody had seemed to notice, though you could feel the heat rising to your face. You’d exchanged numbers and Harry’d promised to call. Even then you’d taken his words with a grain of salt, acting nonchalant when you’d caught up with your friends and waved goodbye.

Then he’d texted you. That night. He’d claimed he was just making sure you’d gotten home alright, but you couldn’t help but feel elated. You’d texted back and forth until you could barely keep your eyes open. He was really funny and made you laugh and feel at ease. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you thought you could really like him.

Then nothing.

There was no phone call or text the next day. Okay, one day, no big deal. He might have been busy, you told yourself. The next day, Monday, still nothing. Same for the day after that, and the day after that. By Thursday you decided to just text him yourself.

Keep reading

Frat Boy Pt 3 - Harry Styles One Shot

part 1, part 2

YOU’VE HAD TO WAIT TWO WEEKS BUT YOU CAN CONTINUE YOUR COLLEGE ANGST AND ROMANCE WITH HARRY NOW.  I mean is this really classified as a “one shot” anymore?  I’m not sure.  For this one you may want to read part 2 for the beginning to make any sense, but then again, it still involves angst and tension and frat parties and alcohol and college Harry so…enjoy!

Your eyes weren’t closed though, your lips weren’t even feeling the soft caress of his once he recovered from shock, or feeling the way his hand gripped your waist and pulled you closer.

Because your eyes were on Harry’s, witnessing them darken, feeling his anger, watching him scowl in a scalding rage while another girl marked his neck

And seeing him push the girl off and run directly up the banister.


Harry was livid as he ran to you, the anger rippling through him like a dam that had just been broken, its poisonous waters rushing over everything in its wake, his blood boiling and hot.  Hot enough to warp his perception, more so than the strongest liquor.

He was seeing red and each leap up the banister, each millisecond he got closer to you, the worse the image became engrained in his mind.  The way Niall had placed his hands around your waist.  The way he’d pulled your hips to his.  The way you had pressed your fucking lips to his.  

He didn’t feel the steps beneath him as he took in your terrified face and doe-eyes, wide as could be. You were staring at him.  Just as you had when you’d made out with another. When another’s lips were pressed against yours, invading the space he wanted to claim.  When you’d let another do exactly what he’d wanted to do all along.  

You knew what you were doing.  You knew what you were fucking doing to him.

And there you stood.

Niall’s arms still around you.

He was snarling.

Seething.

He didn’t even feel human.

You hadn’t moved.  You’d pulled your lips from Niall’s as soon as Harry had starting running, but Niall’s arms still gripped your hips.  His touch now seemed foreign, unwanted.  The reason you withdrew escaped him.  Niall was completely oblivious, his turned back the only reason a charming smile was still on his face.  You knew you should retreat from the fuming man charging towards you, that you’d crossed a line even though you and Harry had never drawn one up to begin with.  But it didn’t change the fact that it was there, for whatever reason, and now it was flashing neon because you’d violated it.  

But he violated it before you had.  

You couldn’t step away from Niall’s hold, the shock that Harry was coming closer to you and had actually left his make out buddy twice, for you, giving you more satisfaction than it should have and keeping you frozen in the poor lad’s grasp.

Even when you knew it was the last place you should be.

As Harry raged closer, you noticed those green eyes had grown dark, as dark as his black jeans, and for the first time you regretted everything.

You thought you’d seen an ugly side to Harry with that stranger outside your class.  But this? This Harry was an entirely different beast.  And you weren’t quite sure anything could tame him.

By the time the thought crossed your mind it was too late.

“Let her go,” Harry growled. His voice was low, gravelly. Deadly.  Niall didn’t have time to turn around let alone react before Harry grabbed his shoulders and tore him off you, the blonde flying backwards.  He stumbled against gravity and lost, hitting the floor with a groan.

“What the fuck Harry?!” Niall’s eyes were swimming with confusion and anger, lighting the blue with a spark that was a threat in itself.

But Harry wasn’t focused on Niall anymore, his blistering eyes were on your own.  And this time there were no Ray Bans to protect you.  His gaze was heavy, fiery, and suddenly you felt the need to throw up all over again.

He didn’t mutter a word when he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind him, the grasp that once gave you a sense of calm now leaving you speechless, numb with shock.  You didn’t even know where he was taking you.  It was a wonder you hadn’t fumbled and fallen at his persistent tugging.

It was only when you were halfway down the hall to Harry’s room that you were suddenly blessed with speech and could mumble a feeble, “Where are we going?”  As if you didn’t know.

He didn’t reply, but you noticed his pace quickened once you spoke, and that only made your heart race faster and your hands a little sweatier. His grip, harder.  If he noticed your hot palms, he didn’t show it.  You swallowed thickly as he quickly led you into his room. The slam of the door shutting behind you made you flinch, and he let go of your hand once it was clear you weren’t going to go anywhere.

He stalked towards the center of his room, stopping at the foot of his bed, and kept his back to you. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but admire the planes of his back and how the t-shirt lay on his broad shoulder blades and the toned muscles lying just beneath.

As much as you hated yourself for it, an extra shot of adrenaline coursed through you that Harry Styles was getting this worked up over you, over this, whatever this was.  The buzz hadn’t faded yet, and it made it that much harder to contain the possibility that….no.  No matter what happened you wouldn’t delude yourself into thinking that Harry genuinely liked you.

But as Harry’s chest continued to heave as he struggled to control his breathing, and the tension rolled off him in toxic waves as he stood motionless in the center of the room, your pleasurable adrenaline quickly turned to that of fear.  Harry wouldn’t hurt you.  Would he? He’d dragged you all the way to his room, but he hadn’t spoken to you and his silence was concerning.  What awful things were going through his mind where he couldn’t even speak to you?  What did he want to do?  What would he do?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

hello, do you have any fics where louis is insecure? or just shy? I need soft louis, thankss

Insecure/Shy Louis Fics

more fics

anonymous asked:

Any fratboy!harry recs?

Here You Go: 

Don’t Make This Easy ( I Want You To Mean It ) by wildestdreams [ 1/1 | English | 24,118 ]

Harry’s a frat boy who is head over heels for Louis and Louis wants nothing to do with him.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante [ 6/6 | English | 112,853 ] *

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers). Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football. A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Every Time That You Get Undressed ( I Hear Symphonies In My Head ) by theboyfriendstagram [ 1/1 | English | 12,009 ]

Or an AU in which Harry is the typical frat boy who doesn’t believe in love but falls for the insecure mess that is Louis.

I hope these are okay! - Happy Reading! :)

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. 

Keep reading

Frat Boy Pt 5

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Thanks so much for your patience guys.  Enjoy some fratty bratty harry with fratty niall and art student zayn ;)

The kiss stayed with you through to the morning, instantly awakening you with the thought of how his lips had felt heatedly pressed against yours - hungry, savory, soft.  He’d been gentle with you, but dominating.  Dominating in the most comforting of ways.  And as cheesy as it seemed to be, you had been putty in his strong, capable hands.  With cheeks flushed from drifting thoughts, you ghosted your hand where his once cupped your cheek and you could almost imagine it was his instead, but when your fingertips traveled to touch your lips, the tingle he’d left and the burn in your stomach he’d ignited was just out of reach.  And when your hand fell to touch your throat where he had pressed a luscious kiss, you felt the crusty trickle of blood that had caused him to retreat.  A frown befell your face and an onslaught of sensations took over as the memories from the alley came back to you full-force, the grubby hands pressing you against one’s bony chest, the glint of the sharp blade, the sickly sweet cologne and the moisture from his breath that had hit your neck.  There was a cold chill and you shivered even though just two minutes ago you’d woken up sweating under the blankets.  When you rolled over to see Renny’s bed empty there was a sudden slam in the bedroom that made you jump and your adrenaline skyrocketed as you froze beneath the sheets.  It was the blinds, only the blinds, you told yourself.  They’d just slammed against the window from a draft.  The beating of your heart was still pounding and your eyebrows knitted together as it hit you that you were very much alone.

She’d left for class already.  An obnoxiously bright orange note card was taped to the side of your desk and you stretched your arm as far as it could while staying buried beneath the protection of the covers.

I miss you :( TELL ME EVERYTHING WHEN I GET BACK

btw it’s back-to-school theme for the sorority party tonight so…prepare the slutty outfit and what you’re going to say to make me look good ;)

Your eyes shot to the clock and you froze.  It was 7:45.  When the shutters slammed against the window again and your heart dropped for the second time this morning, you knew you couldn’t stay here.  You may fail the stupid test and Harry may be annoyed that you didn’t stay, but you wouldn’t be able to sleep again.  As silly as it sounded you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep even if you checked under your bed and swept the closet five times over to make sure no one was there.  You felt so vulnerable alone, and your mind kept drifting to that night.

You wouldn’t be able to fight the memory.

You had fifteen minutes.

With no regard to yesterday’s makeup you threw on jeans and a sweatshirt, even though the clouds from yesterday were long gone.  You may be sweating on your way over to class, but you didn’t want the world to see you today.  You’d just thrown up your hood and the door was closing behind you when you froze- the blood.  It was still on your neck.  And with a sinking feeling in your gut, the thud of the closing door sealed your sentence.  You’d left your keys in the pocket of your sweats from last night and there was no way you could get back in to wash it off.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cursed, wiggling the doorknob to no avail.  You weren’t one to cuss, hardly ever, and you weren’t sure what you were hoping for in jiggling the locked door, but- fuck.

In a panicked fast-walk to class, you tried rubbing your neck to try and get the evidence to fade but all it left you with was irritated skin probably reddening from the burn you were creating.  People seemed to be staring at you more today as you picked up your fast walk to an awkward fast jog and as disgusting as it was, you licked your hand and started desperately rubbing again.  You winced a bit as you felt the sting from the cut, the slight injury reacting with the dampness in bristling rejection.

Your head was a dark cloud of anxiety, stress, and fear and when you burst through the doors of lecture hall with a minute to spare, your thoughts turned impossibly darker.

Harry was leant back looking effortlessly alluring in a snapback and partially unbuttoned flannel, with a girl stood between his legs.  His hands were casually gripping the edge of the extended table while her hip was popped out in the way that made her butt look bigger and her waist, smaller.  You knew that pose, you did it too.  She said something to him that caused him to smirk and he nodded his head with a shrug of his broad shoulders while she giggled in excitement.  The same shoulders that had been hovering over you, bare, just hours before…

The instant bitter spark of anger erupted and your natural reaction was outrage at this blatant betrayal, but then, you realized, what was he betraying?  The anger was no match for the larger flood of disappointment that followed not even two seconds after.  You thought he’d be worried about you, you realized.  After last night, you’d thought he’d stay the same warm, gentle person when the sun showed its face again.  You’d forgotten who he was.  What he was.   He wasn’t going to change, nor was he going to just flip a switch and become solely focused on you of all people because he’d stopped those men from taking advantage of you.  Any decent person would’ve done that.

Wasn’t that what your mother always told you when a check bounced?  Don’t fall in love with a man you think you can change, because no one will change fundamentally.  Unless, of course, he had money.  Then, she’d told you, it didn’t really matter if he changed or not because money could afford you all sorts of distractions.  Security first, love secondary.  You’d listened with open ears when your father wasn’t around, letting it come in one ear and out the other.  That was just your mother though.

She’d never read the love stories you had.

A part of you was reminded of Harry’s intensity, how each time his fist met the other man it had been so calculated and filled with unchecked rage.  Something was telling you that not any person would’ve done what Harry did.  That a person mentally couldn’t have done most of it.

For an irrational reason, anger struck up again.  Harry didn’t have to do any of it.

And he definitely didn’t need to spend the night.

But that’s why he’d honestly asked you to “tutor” him wasn’t it?  He’d gotten what he’d wanted, hadn’t he?  He’d gotten to kiss you and you’d given in.  His sweet words were just a cherry on top.  Blatantly meaningless as he continued to charm the girl who he clearly already had under his thumb.

You’d pushed the door harder than expected and it slammed shut, causing all heads to turn towards you.

Including his.

Including hers.

The make-out chick Harry had been with the night of the party was staring at you with crystal blue eyes, doing a once over at the weird hooded girl glaring at the entrance before turning back to look at Harry.  But he was still looking at you.

Harry’s brows immediately drew together and he gave an irritated shake of his head that screamed “what the fook are yeh doing here?”  It made your skin crawl how you could already picture his voice so perfectly in your head, and you hated knowing it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  You only had the energy to fake a smile when the professor cheekily said “So nice of you to join us Y/N.”  The girl standing in front of Harry started walking away at his sudden disinterest and you almost wanted to comfort her, hell, you could make a lot of money off a Harry support group.  You’re sure many girls needed it after dealing with the ever-shifting enigma that is Harry Styles.

You heard Harry call your name as you passed him, but you ignored it, for once gracefully walking a little faster when you saw him unsuccessfully reach for you in the corner of your eye.  

Niall was the one who sat at the end of the aisle and reached a hand out to stop you before you could descend and get away.

“Hey, what’s wrong with your neck?”  His voice held traces of concern, but it was a question asked out of selfish curiosity.  

“Allergic reaction,” you lied.

“Yikes, you allergic t’a good make out then?” he teased before breaking out into a snicker at your furrowed brows.  He hadn’t.  He…he wouldn’t have -

You immediately looked to Harry and his eyes had darkened, all the proof you needed, and you hoped your death glare transferred through the sizzling line of energy that seemed to pop up whenever you looked at each other.  That cocky, bragging, arrogant son of a…

Keep reading