#louis you cheeky fucker playing the part

[achillesunly]

My main man Armand going on with his fucking power play kink makes even me wanna kick his ass

Keep your kink in your coffin boys there's a reason it's not to be exhibited on the streets

'are you asking, or making me?'

Fuck you what the hell

What the fuck is wrong wit you

[kerwritesthings]

The Heartbeat of Inspiration

Summary: Musicians find magic within the simplest sounds, especially when it’s laced with love

Word Count: just shy of 1.5k

Warnings: silly and sweet with some fluff and a slight dip into cheeky fucker

Author Notes: I had been lamenting earlier Saturday that I wanted to write, opened a few things I have going (which I HATE having multiple things started let alone started and just hanging) none sparked joy at the moment, prompts I’m sitting on were doing the same. Was about to close down for the night when Bre @fallinallincurls decided to blog THIS and then all of a sudden, a word doc was opened and I vomited 250 words in like 10 minutes. I had about 1k done in an hour, then it took a turn. All in all, 2 hours to bang out this whole thing start to finish. CRAZY. Miss muse, she has a mind of her own.

This falls earlier in the verse than I’ve been writing lately, like somewhere between Sharing a Look and Because I Need You. Totally can be a stand-alone but as always, verse knowledge helps. Full masterlist can be found here.

“Can I play you something?” he asks earnestly, guitar slung on his back as he reaches for your hand.

“Of course, always. But why not here?” you question as he pulls you through the maze of people, cases and wires, down a random hallway you don’t remember seeing before. He peeks around the corner and ducks you both into a dimly lit room.

“Because,” he smiles, swinging his guitar around before hopping up on the counter in the small space he’s found.

“Because is so not an answer my dear. What are you up to Shawn?” you knit your eyebrows as you pop down cross legged on the floor across from him.

“When you were on that call before, after sound check? I didn’t want to sit or anything. Too much rolling through me,” he explains strumming lightly. “I felt something bubbling. I needed to play and write and just be you know? Bus wouldn’t do it or my room cause everyone would be popping in and out. I went to wander, it got quieter. Found this. Not sure why we’re not using it considering everyone’s on top of each other in this place.”

“I thought you went to nap, I know the bus and all the extra stuff hasn’t been the best for you for sleep,” you start before he jumps back in.

“Nope. Was in here. Remember that progression that’s been eating at me? The one I made you record on your phone the other morning?” he plays it, and eases into it further, looping back to the original. “Music’s done. Or I think it is.”

He goes head down, focusing solely on the guitar and the sounds coming from it. You love all facets of this man of yours, but seeing him in his element, creating, in love with the music. The way you get to see him, the way he allows you to see him this way; it’s nothing short of special. Towards the end he’s bopping his head along as he strums, smile creeping across his lips.

“And so yeah, it’s that,” he shrugs, bashful and flushing all of a sudden.

“Can you play it for me again?” you request. “Please?”

He turns a few shades pinker, deeper. “Really?”

You nod, looking him straight in the eye, lips quirking up on one side.

He slides back into music mode, this time a little surer of the chords and the strings underneath his fingers. He looks up at you more this go, cheeky little grin as he progresses. Head bops a little more towards the end of this go, the newness still there but something with it settling underneath his skin and into his bones.

“I think I’ve got the start of lyrics too,” he mumbles, fingers drumming against the front of the light washed wood. “If all goes well, wanna get this down, mixed. Done. Drop it when we get back from all this. A surprise, a thank you, an end note to this bit of running if you will.”

“What brought this all on all of a sudden? What’s the inspiration?” you question, head tilting to the side just enjoying the scene folding out in front of you. He’s always pretty in your eyes, but when he gets deep into his music, he’s ethereal with a whole other glow.

“You,” he says so matter of factly, not looking up from his fingers fidgeting across the frets now. “The other night, when you finally got in, and you slid into my arms. Something just popped, clicked. It was this feeling of calm and serenity, that nothing else mattered but that single moment with you. I heard the progression in your heartbeat, as fucking cheesy as it sounds, but I did. It hit, stuck in my head even when we slept. Felt it again, stronger and more sure really, when I woke up with you sleeping on me. Why I made you record me playing it first thing that morning. I couldn’t let it go, I needed to keep it.”

“I had to go and fall in love with a poetic as shit songwriter,” you sniff, shifting to your feet to get to him.

He hopped down off the counter, slinging his guitar behind him to get you into his arms.

“I warned you that this whole muse thing for a musician was real,” he laughs brightly, holding you tightly to him. “You’re a pretty damn good one at that. Thank you, baby.”

You nuzzle your face against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, wrapping your arms about his waist being careful of the guitar behind him and just hold him so for a few minutes.

“Love you pretty girl,” he whispers, nudging your face up to look at his. “So damn much.”

He leans down, dusting the softest kisses across your face, hitting your eyelids, cheeks, the tip of your nose before carefully pressing into your lips. You’re lost in the moment, in him, in the bubble. Then your phone starts buzzing wildly in your pocket, Shawn’s following suit.

“Shawn,” you utter against his lips, pulling away ever slightly.

“They can wait,” he mutters against your jaw, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans to bring you closer into him. “Wanna love on you a bit before I have to go into show mode. I’ve missed you, missed being this close. You feel good under my hands, the taste of you on my lips.”

He hits this spot on your neck that makes you let go something between a moan and a sigh. “The part of me that loves you so much wants to say to hell with them all, but the rational part of me that knows if they’re hitting both of our phones…”

Shawn doubles down, nose skirting against your skin with his tongue following. “Couple more minutes, please?”

“Baby, sweetheart,” you fight out as he nips at your ear while slipping his thigh between your legs. “You’re not fighting fair. You’ve got folks to see, fans to make swoon, songs to sing.”

“I’m seeing you; I’m making you swoon, I can sing to you,” he utters into your ear, hips canting against yours. “You’re my favorite audience.”

“What’s gotten into you…” you begin just as a familiar face busts into the room.

“There you are. Kids, really?” Cez barks through a deep laugh. “Enough of that. You two are damn lucky it’s me that found you and not say Andrew or even Louis, who by the way is here tonight.”

“I tried,” you say, trying to peel back from him, but he won’t let his grip on you go, his head leaning down into your shoulder at this point.

“Yep, ‘smy fault, but do you blame me man?” he grins wickedly as he picks up his head and pulls you into a much more PG hold. “My girl that I love is here, you know how much I’ve missed the hell out of her and I mean look at her. You’re lucky I’ve behaved at all lately.”

“Shawn,” you push at him, face bright red.

Cez rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You are lucky I care about you the way I do, kid. God help me why I do, I wonder sometimes. You have 15 minutes to get yourself back to your room, cleaned up and changed before meet and greet starts. If you cannot behave, I will take your love with me, so you have to behave. Get it?”

“Come on,” you push him towards the door and in Cez’s direction while still tangled in his grasp. “Time to go be a Rockstar, Shawn.”

He loosens his grip on you, kissing your forehead before letting you go. Shawn nudges at him as he walks towards the door. Cez throws his arm around his neck in a loose head lock. The two walk through the door and down the hallway that way for a beat.

“Thank god for you. Someone here that he’ll really listen to,” Cez replies, letting him free of his hold.

“I listen to you,” he sticks his tongue out at him in retaliation as they hit the main hallway backstage.

“See what I deal with? Go, I’m back for you at 4!” Cez calls out walking past the both of you

“Wanna dress me?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows with a wink as you get through to his room.

“I’ll help choose, no touching now, but I call dibs on getting you out of it later ok?” you pick through the rolling rack on the far wall.

He comes behind you to hug you again, his chin hooking over your shoulder. “Promise?”

You twist to kiss him as best you can. “Post Rockstar show Shawn is one of my favorites so yes, of course. Me, you and that couch after the show.”

“It’s a date.”

TAG LIST: @whenidance, @etherealpetey, @sinplisticshawn​, @hollandraul, @fallinallincurls, @itrocksmysocks, @rainbowshawn, @lasingphomustra, @illumecherry, @adelaidestreets, @thotmendes

*Always feel free to ask to be added to the tag list!

[kinghoranshit]

The Watchers (1D) - 48 Hours

Part 3

I was up before the sun had risen and sat at the post with a bowl of oatmeal and sliced bananas. It was oddly quiet again, sort of peaceful this time. Modest! really set us up right for this. Though, under the circumstances, that should be expected of them as the guys' management; especially with their money and power.

Around nine, Niall came downstairs to eat and he went back to practicing. At this point, I knew it was his way of a distraction and at least having some control of the current situation. I wasn't going to take that away from him. I just knew we were probably going to run out of the blanks soon. There was no telling what he'd do when that happened.

Around ten, Louis perched himself next to me with his own late breakfast. It was great someone wanted to keep me company. But again, part of me figured this was his way to not freak out. We sort of both needed each other right now.

And around noon, the other three finally ventured downstairs. I wasn't surprised that they slept in this time. They all ate lunch now. They were definitely the most quiet.

Louis leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees and peeked out the slot. "Seen anything out there?"

I shrugged. "Nope."

"Then why don't we go do something else for a bit? I think I saw a couple games in one of the closets."

"Yeah, it's the one in the basement," I remarked with a smirk.

He looked unphased by my knowledge of everything in the house. "Let's go play one."

I let out a deep breath and slapped my hands on my thighs. "Sounds like a plan. Just for an hour or so."

I gasped when I saw the game LIFE in the archives. Immediately, I clicked on it to pull it up.

"What's LIFE?"

"Only the best game ever. You literally create a fake life. My mom and I used to play it when I was younger, and she played it when she was a kid."

Louis chuckled. "Sounds ancient, Kat. It can't be fun."

"Says you," I scoffed. "Come on, let's just play one run, okay?"

He looked hesitant before he broke with a heavy sigh. "Alright."

We each chose our color of car and person peg; my mom told me it used to be gender, but they changed it before I started playing. After this, we spun to see who went first and then chose the path of college or business. Louis spun a higher number so he went first. He went straight for the business route.

I snorted. "You're not going to go to college?"

"Fuck no. If I did that instead of trying music, I wouldn't be here. I've never been one great at education anyway."

"Touche. I didn't exactly have to get a degree for my work."

He looked at me curiously; his blue hues sparkled under the white lights. "You call this your job? You don't do anything else between the purges?"

I shook my head. "Nope. It pays well enough. That is if I survive the night."

"Touche," he chuckled.

I chose the college route instead because I knew that there were more job options, and it always made things more interesting in my opinion. Eventually I landed on the journalist occupation, which was one of the lower paying salaries, but that's okay. It seemed realistic to me. I think that if I hadn't been thrown into this lifetime, I'd probably be a writer of some sort. Or an instructor to teach self defense; that also felt right.

Our game flew by pretty quickly with stabs at each other, laughs, and curses. He'd ended up with four kids and I had only one. That spiraled the questions of would we want to get married one day and did we want kids. He answered yes to both and for the longest time he wasn't sure when he was going to be ready, but recently he felt that if he survived this purge he'd get married the following year. I said yes, but I wasn't sure about kids because of my lifestyle. I guess I could leave at any point; that definitely didn't feel right.

Louis's knee lightly touched mine as he tossed the controller onto the floor. "Well, I hate to admit it. That was a fun game, killed a bunch of time too."

I glanced down at our knees and soon thighs as he scooted closer. I cleared my throat with a small laugh. "I told you. Maybe we should go see what the others are up to. Make sure no one has died yet."

"Are you sure about that? There's no yelling. We could..." His eyes trailed down to my lips and he began to lean in.

I backed up and shook my head. "Louis, I... We can't... Not right now, okay? It's not the right time. If we both survive, maybe we could try it."

"Right, right," he coughed into his hand and stood from the couch. "I apologize if I came on too strong, Kat."

I nodded. "Apology accepted. It's nothing to worry about. Come on, let's head upstairs." I picked up my crossbow from where I'd leaned it against the couch and strapped it on my back.

The group was actually dispersed in the living room, everyone doing their own thing. Harry was journaling, Liam read some magazine, Zayn hummed a melody to himself, and Niall was practicing unloading and loading the cartridge of the pistol. Maddy was reading some sort of horror novel by the looks of the cover.

Niall looked up with a cheeky grin spreading on his lips. "Have fun downstairs?"

"Yeah, heard enough laughing to last me a lifetime," Harry added.

I rolled my eyes. "We were only playing the game LIFE and it was a lot of fun."

"It was." Louis winked.

That only added heat into my cheeks. "I'm going to set myself up at the post again until sundown. Any ideas for food?"

Zayn slightly raised his hand. "I make a mean dish. I've got it covered."

"Awesome." I clapped my hands before I headed over to my seat. I've realized I could use the security cameras. It was a small room though and knew I'd go stir crazy way too early into my post time. There was no shock when Louis sat down the empty chair across from me. After what felt like hours, I felt his hand entangle with mine.

"Louis-"

"I know, but holding hands won't kill us."

No, but the emotional attachment to it could. This is not what I signed up for. I know it's not what any of them signed up for.

I only gave him a small smile and looked back out the slot. My heart jumped a little at the sight of a moving figure.

"Fucker," I mumbled.

"What is it?"

I pulled my hand out of his and went to the vault that was down here to grab a sniper. I loaded it up with a single magazine round and set myself up so I could shoot them down without being noticeable. Luckily the sun was just going down so there was enough light for me to gauge before I took my shot. They were just trying to run from one tree to a bush that was closer to the bunker and I pulled the trigger. Their body went limp with a trip-like fumble to the ground. I made another aim and shot them another time to be sure.

It was then another figure came out from behind the tree and cursed again. There was no telling how many there were in this group. I took the best aim I could with them running and knew it was only a shoulder wound. Quickly I took two more shots and thankful one went into their head. I took a deep breath as I kept my finger on the trigger, looking through the lens for another figure. After at least ten minutes of posting in that uncomfortable position, I stood up and closed the slot.

"We had two friends stop by. If they found us, there's probably going to be more. As long as our security system is up, they shouldn't be able to get in the bunker."

"Please don't say stuff like that. It may happen now." He swallowed.

I licked my lips and sighed. "It's the reality, Louis. I can't lie to you guys. I'm gonna go let the rest know and then we'll eat."

It was pin-needle-dropping quiet while they received the update on the current situation. We were probably going to be fine for another few hours. I didn't suspect that any of these hunters would be smart enough to hack into the bunker system. But I also knew I'd have to be prepared for that to happen.

Dinner that night was the quietest one yet; couldn't blame them. There was nothing to say to cheer up the mood. They all tried to go back to what they were previously doing, staying at the kitchen table. I noted my senses heightened when the power went out. It took a couple seconds for my eyes to adjust, and it was now I realized how bad our situation just got.

Fuck.

Next part: 72 Hours 

[Masterlist]

[deactivated4179291]

Star Crossed - Part 3 (H.S AU)

As the time passes, Niall tells me all about why they moved to the U.S. It turns out that the four of them were in a band together, but after several years, they decided to go their own route with their music. They also wanted to be hidden from the glare of the public eye, so they packed up their things, and here they all are. The basement is currently being renovated into a studio so that they can record here, in the privacy of their own home. The way Niall sees it, the U.S was their escape. Though they aren’t all working together anymore they still enjoy each other’s company, and it was easier for everyone to have one place to do their own thing. The thought of freedom was short lived for them when it was declared that at least one of them had to complete the Crossing, and Niall, being the generous little Irishman he was, volunteered.

I’ve actually learned quite a decent amount about them. Harry and Niall are the same age, but Harry is younger, and the oldest yet most child-like in spirit is Louis. I decided that second part myself when I saw Louis creep up behind Liam and push him in the pool. Liam wasn’t too happy, to put it lightly. Everyone else thought it was pretty funny, though. Poor Liam. I hadn’t seen much of Harry after our awkward first encounter. He went inside a while ago and seemed to just disappear. Louis and I were talking about soccer, or as he called it “football,” when I told him the embarrassing story of my short soccer career. I played for two years starting when I was four, and I was so bad at it that my parents just decided it’d be best that I find other hobbies. He seemed to get a kick out of the story which made me feel more comfortable talking to him and the other “lads.” Eventually, amongst the buzzing of surrounding conversation and the distant sound of the music playing, I lost Niall.

I wanted to talk to him about the house...I don’t think my mother realized how expensive the house probably was when she agreed to the option - as a parent to help pay for it. I made my way back inside, and eventually wound up back near the living room and kitchen where I first entered said expensive mansion. I quickly spotted Niall and Harry sitting side by side on the middle couch. Harry’s eyes widened when he saw me as if he was a child that was about to trouble for something. His attention then flicked to his right, where Niall seemed to be losing his shit, laughing about something. I take a couple steps forward the couch and cross my arms in front of them. I can feel the amused smile creep onto my face.

“He’s drunk isn’t he?”

“Plastered,” Harry nods vigorously, laughing – clearly had a tad bit to drink, himself, but he’s not intoxicated. Niall just keeps giggling and tries to pull Harry closer to him, whilst Harry struggles to shake him off of it.

“Ah, so you corrupted him,” I point jokingly.

“Whad’ya mean?” he asks innocently, his dimples popping up.

“Niall told me everything, including the fact that he’s the innocent one.” Niall giggles at my statement.

“Pfft, Innocent my arse,” he scoffs.

"Whys he's losing his shit so bad anyway?"

"I wanted to know how drunk he was so I told a knock-knock joke. Now I've got my answer - very – ‘nd it wasn’t even my best one." He rolls his eyes, jokingly.

“Should I be concerned? Does he do this a lot?” I wonder.

“Well,” he shakes his head, “ not usually, but if he does then this is what you get to live with now too.” I laugh watching Harry’s face go from amused to slightly frustrated whilst Niall continues to attempt to hug him. When he finally gets his arms around Harry, Harry just sits there, blinking, no expression on his face.

“Unamused?” I quirk, sniggering. He smiles at that, shaking his head. His facial expression causes two dimples to appear on his face. Fuck...those are really cute.

“Alright, let’s get this little fucker to bed,” Harry rises and grabs Niall by the arm. They’re quite the entertaining duo if I do say so myself. Harry drapes Niall's left arm across his broad shoulders.

“Since you’re moving in, why don’t you come take a look upstairs?” He asks, dragging Niall past me, towards the steps to the second floor. It doesn’t sound like an innuendo, he says it very genuinely, which is why I follow him up the steps.

Once Niall was tucked in and passed out soundly asleep in his room Harry gave me what he called the “grand tour.” He acted as if he was offering a sales pitch with every new room we went to. He even showed me the empty bedrooms and told me I could “take my pick,” in his lovely deep voice with his accent. I felt a sense of guilt. The house had six bedrooms, and I didn’t think I could afford to even rent an inch of one.

Once he showed me the rest of the house, which consisted of a few other living areas – and I even got to see the studio renovation downstairs, we ended up at the bar, which I hadn’t noticed until now even though it was in the living room near the kitchen. Harry placed himself behind the bar, while I sat on the stool opposite him. He leaned forward, smiling and resting his hands on the countertop.

“So..What can I get for you?” Shit…I haven’t ever really had alcohol. Like I said, in high school, I didn’t get out much, so I never amounted to underage drinking at that time. Now that I was 18, though, I could legally drink..but I opted for a water instead.

“Ohh, don’t drink alcohol do we?” he teases, smirking at me.

“I mean, I haven’t before, no...”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Well there’s a first time for everything right?” he raises one hand, smiling cheekily. I let out a little laugh. That seems to be a common theme tonight – me laughing. I don’t get the opportunity to laugh much nowadays, it feels.

"I'm sorry if I seemed awkward when we met..my moms told me I'm pretty shy...and clearly social awkward." I break the silence.

He chuckles. He then reaches underneath the bar, opening one of the cabinets I presume.

“I’ was fine, love,"  he groans pulling a red wine bottle out from under the bar, "Honestly I feel bad that you're surrounded by all these people that you don't know since you feel anxious about it. Now, if you promise not to tell the lads where 've been hiding my good wine bottles, I know somewhere we can go away from all these..loud..people." He grimaces because of all the noise... I'm left with a decision. Be smart, and say no because I don't know this strange boy, OR be me and say yes because I'm turning into Robin - trying to see the good in everyone. There really does seem to be good in Harry.

"My lips are sealed." I pretend to zip my lips and give him the invisible key. He laughs again.

" a'right," he winks and cocks his head to the side pointing in the direction he wants me to go, as I follow him.

Seeing him wink made heat rise to my cheeks. If his intention is to get me drunk, he doesn’t need the alcohol, I am already intoxicated by him. His unwavering kindness and compassion make me feel like I can finally trust someone.

Then he leads me to a random spot in the backyard, passing all the scattered bodies until we were standing on the outside of the garage. He just looks at me and smiles, waiting for me to say something.

“This is your special spot?...behind the garage?” The only other noise to be heard is the light hum of the speakers on the complete opposite side of the house.

“Oi, who said anything about being behind the garage?” His eyes flick up to the roof, then back to me. Wait a second..the roof.

“The roof?!” I whisper-shout, my eyes widening as I am not the best with heights.

“What, you afraid of heights or somethin’?” He laughs a bit, before realizing I really am scared of heights. His eyes widen, and his face growth sympathetic.

“Shit,” he mumbles, “ ‘m sorry love, I didn’t know.” He shakes his head.

“Listen, I’ll boost you up, okay? ‘s not that high up I promise.” I gulp silently, before sheepishly nodding. He places the wine bottle on the concrete then leans forward, and knits his fingers together, signifying he wants me to step on his hands. I kick off my boots – I am not about to do this in heels. I get close and place my right foot in his hands,  grabbing his shoulders for balance and he pulls me up. I grab leverage to get onto the roof the second both of my feet are off the ground.

Once I am up, I sit on the flat part of the roof, grabbing the wine bottle from him and watch as Harry effortlessly jumps up, and hauls himself up. He plops down next to me, then sends me a smirk.

“Not all of us are fucking 8 feet tall, okay?” I sass. His eyes screw shut, and his face wrinkles as he laughs.

“how tall ‘re you anyway?” he asks me, his normal dimpled smile returning to his beautiful face.

“5’2” He hums in response.

“For the record ‘m not actually 8 feet tall, I am only 5’11. ‘ve just been jumping up here a lot longer than you have.”

“That’s true,” I nod.

I sit on the flat rooftop, my legs outstretched but bent at the knees, with my arms wrapped around them lightly. I can’t help but look up and stare at the stars. They seem to be shining brighter than I have ever seen them. I hear a pop noise, and immediately know that Harry has opened the wine bottle. He smiles and offers it to me, raising an eyebrow. I think back quickly to the files stored in my brain from what Niall told me, and think of Harry’s last name.

“Alright, fine, Styles,” I roll my eyes, “I’ll take my first ever sip of alcohol if you share with me that knock knock joke that left Niall in hysterics.” A cheeky smile tugs at his lips at my words.

“Knock knock”

“Who's there, Harry?”

“Little old lady”

“Little old lady who?” He smirks and giggles, and then I realize where this is going. “oh my gosh” I mutter, shaking my head.

“I didn’t know you could yodel!” He sniggers.

“Ya I definitely need a drink after that.”

“Fair ‘nough” he shrugs.

I press the rim of the bottle to my lips and tilt it backward, sending the wine into my mouth. It’s bitter, but also has a kind of unique flavor to it. My face I lick my lips to rid any leftover wine on my lips and hand the bottle back to Harry. Determining that I’m not the biggest fan of it, my face scrunches slightly. I hear Harry’s beautiful laugh pierce the silence once again.

“ ‘s not for everyone,” he shrugs, drinking from the bottle himself. He gulps down the substance relentlessly. Quite frankly, I’m impressed by his ability to do it so effortlessly. He then places the bottle between the two of us, so that it’s to my right. As he’s reaching over to put it down, he gently grabs my hand, causing me to turn my head back in his direction, with slight surprise. He stares at the sign on my wrist, and traces it with his finger, furrowing his eyebrows again.

"So which one is this?" he looks back into my eyes.

"Uh, Taurus. My birthdays may 20th...what's yours?"

He looks kind of distant as if something is bothering his thoughts, but reluctantly rolls up his right jacket sleeve enough for me to see his sign and a slew of other ink on his wrist. I had only vaguely noticed all of his tattoos when I first encountered him. Seeing them so up close was an entirely different story.

“Aquarius,” I say. Pursing his lips, he nods. He grabs the bottle with his left and starts to down more of the crimson liquid.

Aquarius..as in air…as in not earth.

“Well,” he sighs, “we better get down from ‘ere before I get too drunk” I nod, but as soon as I look down from the top of the roof, fear overtakes me.