pg thirteen cause yaknow (; (;
You were at a party for your friend’s 20th birthday at her house. It was the usual thing that everyone does at 18+ parties; beer pong, pour shots into everybody’s mouth, jello shots, anything you could ever think of involving liquor. You didn’t feel comfortable around friends that were drunk; since they act so opposite from their un-intoxicated personality. They usually begin to flirt with each other, make out in a room, and anything else involving sexual innuendos.
You were with a guy that started to flirt with you. You’ve had a slight crush on him, and this would be the only time he’d flirt with you. When he’s drunk. You thought that if he found out that he flirted with you, he’d be disgusted of his actions.
Every time you were near a guy, you felt eyes glaring at you. Looking for the person that would look at you, you found the oh-so famous curly-haired, now quiffed up, 19 year old with his ripped black jeans, boots, and a shirt with patterns.
Let’s see how he acts when I get closer to a guy. You thought.
You got closer and closer, and his jaws only clenched tighter, and his fist tighten the closer you got. You smirked to yourself. You were never those type of girls that would tease guys, in fact, you were quite an innocent girl.
You decided to go upstairs to the bathroom, trying to figure out what you’d do next. Re-applying your mascara, using the toilet, washing your hands, fixing your hair, you opened the bathroom door, only to be pushed against the wall by the curly-haired boy, Harry.
"What the fuck is your problem?!" You asked. His grip against your arms were only tightening the more you talk.
"You know exactly what my problem is, (Y/L/N)." His raspy, low, voice sent chills down your spine.
Understanding what his ‘problem’ was, you smirked.
"Jealous now are we, Styles?" You teased.
"No." His grip became loose, his face softening up. "You’re a fucking slut."
"Me?" You gasped sarcastically. "Never." His grip tightened as you whimpered softly.
"Well let’s see. You’ve been all up on every boy this whole night, and you’ve been driving me crazy this whole time."
"Aw, poor little Harold is jealous." You teased in a child’s voice.
"I’m not!" His voice became louder, and the anger was more evident. His grip tightened once again, and now, you were definitely scared.
"You’re not? Hmm, well, what’s this argument about then?"
"About you being a fucking prostitute trying to get guys into bed."
"I thought I was driving you crazy, though?" You smirked. He stayed silent.
"If you let go of me, we can talk about this properly." He did exactly what you said, and instead of ‘talking about this properly’, you pushed him up against the wall.
"What the fuck…" Now he looked innocent. Roles reversed and you were in control, since you did have him up against the wall…
"You see Styles, that shows you not to mess wi-" Before you could finish your sentence, his lips collided against yours, kissing passionately. His hands roamed around your back and stayed on your waist, moving you closer to him. He then pushed you against the other wall, him being in control now.
He pulled away with a smirk on his face, you were breathless.
"You see (Y/L/N), that shows you not to drive guys crazy." He mocked, smirking and walking away.
OH MY SDJLAKFSDAKFL; SDFJKL; im sorry i never do these type of imagines, it was just a request from 12 decades ago and i agreed to making it after suitcases was over lol
if i would take a video of me making this, you would see me in the most awkwardest position ever. i cringed and sjadkfl;sjadfkl;sa
photo creds; ittybittylarry