just consider me drunk

Americans about the french: Pretty classy. They smoke all the time… Wine.. Also they might be gay?
Europeans about the french: GIANT assholes. Eat baguettes for every single meal, like an asshole. If you pronounce “croissant” correctly fuck you

Preference #5 - Morning After A One Night Stand - Prequel




               “This DJ is great!” My friend yelled in my ear while we were dancing. I laughed shaking my head letting my hair falls loose.

               “I know right!” I yelled back a smile taking over my whole face.

               We danced for a while longer before I started to get breathless. I slipped through the people on the floor and slammed my hands down at the bar.

               “Can get a water and a beer?” I asked. The bartender smiled and nodded.

               “First drink order I thought you were a good girl.” A guy at the bar said. I glanced at him and I recognized him in one second. Ashton Irwin from 5sos. Ok girl, play it cool.

               “Eh, not too many good girls in here if I’m honest.” I said gesturing to the girls on the dance floor.

               “That’s a fair point. I’m Ashton.” He said holding his hand out for me. I smiled and shook it.

               “Y/N. So what brings you here?” I asked him.

               “The killer live band.” He said broadly.

               “There is no live band.” I said laughing.

               “You mean this isn’t the wedding receptions? Shit.” He said and I laughed taking a gulp of the water in front of me.

               “My friends are going to kill me.” He said laughing.

               “Hmm, so what really brings you here?” I asked leaning against the bar.

               “The girls.” He answered bluntly.

               “Ah.” I said sipping the last of the water and switching to drinking the beer.

               “What about you?” He asked.

               “The music and the alcohol.” I shrugged and he laughed.

               “What would you say if I suggested that we have shots then?” He said crossing his arms and raising his eyes at me.

               “I would say that either you have something you want to forget through alcohol, you think you’re better with alcohol, or you want to get me drunk.” I said crossing my arms.

               “Hmmm… Not drunk just tipsy enough to consider letting me at least kiss you at the end of the night.” He said and I nodded.

               “Probably won’t have to get too terribly tipsy for that.” I said and he smiled.

               “Just tipsy enough.” He said gesturing to an empty high top. I smiled with him sitting down at the table. We talked and laughed and joked and flirted shameless with each other.

               A couple hours later in an intoxicated haze, both from alcohol and him, we came out of the club leaning on each other and laughing. We hailed a taxi and starting kissing each other, also shamelessly, as soon as the cab door closed. By the time we made it to his house, we were hardly daring to be apart from each other as we made our way to his bed falling back onto it after drunkenly making sure we’d shut the door.

               The rest of the night was a drunken blur of very, very, good sex. But that might also be the alcohol talking.


               “It’s freaking cold and cloudy here.” I moaned to my friend sipping beer at a random house party she’d taking me to as I had gone with her to her hometown, London, over winter break. Let’s just say my holidays were not usually depressing music video weather.

               “Says the girl that drools whenever a British guy talks to her.” She said smiling knowingly.

               “I am American. Forget oysters, the accent is the best aphrodisiac in the world.” I said gulping more beer.

               “And we have the prime example of American, Southern charm.”

               “Not southern.” I said narrowing my eyes at her.

               “I know. Close enough.” She shrugged.

               “Ok, I need to find someone to hook up with. If I don’t all my American friends will hate me for coming to the land of the hottest accent and not at least making out with one of them.” I said looking around the house.

               “Once again we return to how charming you are.” She sighed. I rolled my eyes.

               “Well, I am going to get another beer. Do you need one?” I asked and she shook her head. I shrugged and went to the keg in the kitchen. As I was filling up someone approached me.

               “So, you’re on drink refilling duty too?” Someone said above my head. He did not have a British accent but an Australian one.

               “No, not a duty. Just getting it for myself.” I said standing up to face him. When I did I recognized him as Calum Hood. I had to make myself avoid squeaking in shock and from my suddenly racing heartbeat at being close enough to touch him.

               “Oh another foreigner! I’m Calum.” He said holding his hand out for me. I smiled and shook it.

               “Y/N.” I said sipping the beer as I stepped aside to let him use the keg.

               “What’s a cute American girl doing in the UK?” He asked turning to look at me with those damn brown eyes.

               “That was just an excuse to call me cute and I am calling you on it. But I’m here for the cute guys with accents. What’s the hot Australian doing here?” I asked and he laughed.

               “Been living here for a little while. Came out to party.” He said laughing. “And what if it was indeed an excuse to call you cute?” He said leaning against the counter.

               “Well I’ve already called you hot so clearly I’m attracted to you.” I said and he laughed.

               “You’re skipping a lot of the formalities there.”

               “Playing hard to get is a little hard with alcohol in my brain.” I shrugged.

               “Blunt and to the point. I like it.”

               “If you like so much, maybe we should get out of here.” I said and he smiled.

               “Very straight to the point.” He said appreciatively.

               Within an admittedly short period of time I was falling into bed with him.


               “This is great!” I cried doing my best moves on the dancefloor with a cup of beer held high in my hand.

               “You’re getting sloppy drunk.” My friend cautioned. If I was honest, I was already speeding through sloppy drunk to the next part.

               “Thank you! I’m getting another drink.” I said going to the bar. After pushing my way to it I told the bartender to get me another beer and one shot, I turned to the guy with bright hair sitting on the counter.

               “Cool hair.” I said and he smiled laughing.

               “Thanks, you see to be having a good time.” He replied and I nodded.

               “And a good time is precisely what I’m here for. Mission accomplished. What about you?” I asked and he sighed holding the beer glass in front of him.

               “The desire to just do whatever.” He said and I nodded.

               “Wanna dance?” I said cocking my head.

               “I might be attempting to lose control through alcohol.” He said and I smiled.

               “Works best with bass in your head.” I said and he shrugged.

               “If I wanted bass, I have Calum for that.” He muttered.

               “Oh that is it of your dumpiness. We’re gonna dance, get your endorphins going and then we might have sex.” I said grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the floor.

               “You would have gotten somewhere a lot faster if you mentioned sex.” He said following me.

               “I’m not that easy.” I said facing him on the floor. I draped my arms over his shoulders beginning to move my hips.

               “Ah yes, definitely not easy. But you are definitely pretty.”

               “Thank you.” I said smiling as a song I liked started. I moved against him as he smiled shaking his hands letting his hands drop to my waist. I felt my body relax against him.

               Maybe an hour later, I felt my back against the wall with my legs around his hips and his arms around my body. We were getting it on.

               “We should go somewhere.” He mumbled digging his finger tips into the back of my thighs.

               “Yeah, we should probably get a cab.” I whispered running my fingers through his hair gently.

               “Hmm… Probably best.” He muttered his lips against my neck.

               Even through my usual drunk haze, that was a great night.


               “You’re just gonna drink?” My friend said patting my shoulder as I stared at the beer in front of me.

               “It’s what I am here for.” I said and she sighed.

               “You fail one test and you have to drink it off.” She said shaking her head.

               “So what? I’m a nerd!” I said throwing my hand out.

               “A nerd that has to drink off a bad grade. Most people drink to get loose.” She continued.

               “Oh you have your fun while I wallow.” I said waving her off. I’d even put effort into this by wearing a dress and heels to feel pretty but I was used to no one really looking at the nerd girl so I hardly expected them to be looking now.

               “Excuse me, may I sit here?” Someone asked from behind me pointing to the bar stool my friend had just vacated.

               “Sure go ahead.” I said hardly even glancing at them, much less noticing the accent. I heard them order a beer but that too hardly registered.

               “That’s a pretty dress.” Someone said and I turned to them, although I was once again not expecting them to be talking to me.

               “Hmm?” I said when I saw piercing blue eyes looking into mine and my throat suddenly closed up.

               “Your wearing a pretty dress.” He repeated. Then I recognized him as Luke Hemmings. My ability to form coherent words flew out the window, which is incredibly distressing when you’re an English major.

               “Thanks.” I managed to say with my cheeks turning red.

               “Why are you alone?” He asked with his own beer in his hand.

               “My friend left me to wallow.” I said gesturing to the people dancing.

               “Wallow?” He asked. “About what?”
               “It’s not that important.” I said looking down.

               “I’m Luke.” He said nodding.

               “Y/N.” I nodded back.

               “But could I actually know why you’re wallowing?” He asked in a low voice.

               “Why?” I asked meeting his gaze.

               “I wondered what you’d look like with a smile.” He shrugged.

               My immediate reaction was to speak without a filter.

               “Did you actually just say you wanted to see my face with a smile?” I said giggling.

               “Well now I am and that’s not exactly what I said.” He replied and I giggled again.

               “No but it was just a little cheesy.” I said and he was smiling.

               “And my hypothesis was correct; you look better with a smile.” He said and I shook my head.

               “This is ridiculous.” I said to myself.

              A couple hours later I found myself walking the streets more tipsy than usual with him and then I found myself on a street corner shivering in the cold until he put his jacket on me. Finally, I found myself standing on a street corner both of us leaning in for a kiss that would really lead to more.