@jnikole90 / jnikole90.tumblr.com
rollingstone: Louis Tomlinson opens up to Rob Sheffield about his solo debut ‘Walls,’ why “Two of Us” was one of his proudest moments to date, life after One Direction and more. “I fucking love the boys, and I love everything we’ve done together,” the singer says. “I think any of the boys would be lying if they said otherwise.” Tap the link in our bio to read the full interview. Photograph by @mariawurtz
a/n: you guys got me to 1k so here's some smut with a new concept i’ve been playing around with. i think i like ceo!shawn?….i hope you do too. there’s kinda dom!shawn but only a little lol
Being with Shawn made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
From everyone else’s perspective, you were just in it for the money and attention. The glamor of being a socialite, going to galas and charity balls. Flying private to beautiful beaches, and exotic jungles, but that had nothing to do with it. Money aside, Shawn was the best thing to ever happen to you, and how he fell for someone like you would forever be a mystery, but you really didn’t need an answer.
You loved Shawn.
He was damn near perfect. Handsome as hell, so so sweet (only with you, he had a ‘reputation to uphold’ after all), incredibly generous - no he was perfect.
He was, however, a workaholic, which you understood. He ran a very prestigious company, with a lot of people relying on him. That was fine, but he always managed to bring it home with him. And recently with some business deal,(that apparently has been going south) he’s spent much of his time at home his office, and not cuddling you. If it weren’t for you checking in on him every few hours you pretty sure he’d never eat. And if you didn’t physically pull him out of there at a decent hour every night your certain he’d never sleep.
Usually, you wouldn’t mind, but recently his hermit tendencies have really gotten to you. Jealousy isn’t the right word - actually it is.
You were jealous. He hadn’t been showering you in the usual amount of attention, and you were desperate. In more ways than one.
Blame it on the suites he’d been wearing recently that fit just that little bit tighter, or hearing the slight growl in his voice while shouting into the phone to his poor assistant (yes, seeing Shawn angry was a sight), but you were feeling much more needy than normal and you couldn’t wait forever for him to do something about it about it, so you did.
You passed your way down the long hallway from your bedroom to his office and gave the door a soft knock before opening it.
“I’ve got to finish this, and then I’ll be all yours honey I promise.” He grumbled over some papers without looking up at you.
“No it’s fine, I just wanted to sit with you while I read.”
You did it often, especially when you couldn’t convince Shawn to leave. Sometimes it was nice watching him work, and you knew that having you there, even just quietly sitting on the couch in the corner, relaxed his nerves.
He looked up at you, with a smile, and when he takes in what you’re wearing, his face changes. Mouth dropping open for a moment before he biting his lip, eye raking up your body.
“Is that one of my shirts?”, you nod your head innocently, stepping further into the room closing the door behind you.
Of course, this worked. It always worked, but you were careful to only use this trick on special occasions. Made it more effective when you did. To Shawn, there was nothing sexier than seeing you in one of his button ups and nothing else.
He caps the highlighter in his hand, and pushes his chair away from the desk, patting his knee.
“C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.” He says it in that low growl that lets you know you’ve got him.
Summary: You’re Shawn’s personal assistant and after a misunderstanding with fans he get the idea that you could be his fake girlfriend to avoid being roped into a messy publicity stunt with a girl he doesn’t like. The thing about that is, both of you have feelings for each other that are less than fake and acting on them while pretending brings out the truth.
Word Count: 11k
| Masterlist in Bio |
The moment you check into your hotel room and get settled Shawn is knocking on the door that joined your rooms. You open it and roll your eyes at him because you figure he’s just up to his usual shenanigans. He always did this when hotel rooms had shared doors. You think he secretly liked the idea of sharing a room even though he always insisted he hated sharing them.
“Yes? How can I help you?” you ask in your most formal voice, teasing him.
“Can you do something for me?” Shawn asks as he pulls his ring off his finger. It’s the one with the two overlapping feathers that he had gotten in Japan last year. He never took it off. Not even to shower as far as you knew.
Your eyes go to his hand and then to his face. Okay this wasn’t a joke, he was seriously asking you to do something for him. “Yeah, what’s wrong?” you ask as he holds his hand out with the ring in it.
“I want you to hold on to this while we’re doing the press tour here.”
“What?” You look down at his ring and he back up at him. “Shawn, you never take that off. What’s going on? Did something happen?”
Shawn pushes the ring into your hand and curls his fingers over yours. “Last time I was in Europe for a while I ended up losing my other one. Remember how fucked up I was?”
You shake your head. “I wasn’t here for that. I do remember you telling me you lost it though. But are you sure? I mean if you never take it off then how could you lose it?”
“Please,” Shawn says softly, squeezing your fingers a bit. “Just humor me and hold on to it.” You sigh and agree to do as he asks. If would give him a piece of mind what would holding on to it for a few weeks hurt?
it’s 11:35 PM, i never stay up this late on a week night, and i just finished reading this. i don’t regret it
a/n - Inspired by Shawn being a papi chulo in the senorita music video and me being a slut for men calling me mama. English translation for the Spanish is in parentheses.
___
“Mendes, I’m gonna have to kindly ask you to shut the fuck up.”
“Wow, Venegas. You get one drink in ya and you start getting bossy, eh?”
“Well,” Gabriela started, narrowing her eyes at Shawn as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table that separated the two of them. “We all can’t be sweet and Canadian like you.”
“Hey!” He laughed in mock offense, his voice cracking as he leaned forward too, a smile working it’s way on Gabriela’s face. “I’m not that Canadian.”
“Ohhh but you are,” She teased. “What did you say to that girl that time you came too fa-“
“Fuck off! You’re trying to distract me,”
“Am not!”
Is my 8 year old seeing Zayn and saying “Mmmm Zaddy” a parenting WIN or FAIL???? 😂😂😂
Louis and Harry.. in Italy. . together.. and we know about it..
He can’t talk about it but his aesthetics are pretty loud.
A piece of Liam’s tattoo on his arm, on this shirt. So obviously.😍😍
today is a good day to remember this
I miss them so much my heart is crying
My name’s Zayn I’m insane in the brain I’m wrapped all over by Mr Liam Payne 😍😍😂😂👌👌
Old but gold
i love how zayn kinda mocked him at first then was shook by his little rap!! they are so cute
a/n: hi again! here’s another piece of writing for ya, a little longer than my last. i hope this one is as well-received as my last (definitely did not expect the amount of positive feedback that i got!!), because this is actually one that i’ve played out in my head so many times LOL. anyways, please feel free to leave feedback (comments, likes, reblogs, messages, the like) or just come talk to me (i’m always up for a chat or a new friend!!), and thanks in advance for reading! much love to all of you- paige xx
requests: open
song rec: “into you- alex ghenea remix” // ariana grande, mac miller, alex ghenea
There are a lot of places that you imagined yourself to be after the release of your first single, which was sweeping the nation through every major radio station and climbing its way to #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 charts. You could’ve been at an early-morning radio interview, chatting with Nick Grimshaw over your morning tea, or maybe laughing with Ellen as she pulled one of her infamous scare pranks on you. Maybe chatting with your manager about the drop of your next song, building up to your first ever album being released later that year, or hosting a meet and greet to thank your fans for supporting you so wholeheartedly on your new venture. Among all of these possibilities, though, you never, ever, in a million years, thought you would reach such a level of success in the music industry that you’d be able to climb into the passenger seat of James Corden’s car for your own episode of “Carpool Karaoke”.
“Thank you so much for helping me get to work; traffic’s a real pain in the ass here in LA, you know?” James asked, putting the car into drive and making his way out into the streets of Los Angeles with you sat comfortably next to him.
An uncontrollable grin broke out onto your face at hearing his infamous greeting, avoiding direct eye contact with the camera perched up in front of you on the dashboard and instead looking at James. “Of course! Anything for you, James.”
You saw him smile coyly at you, glancing at you quickly before turning his eyes back on the road. “Do you mind if we listen to some music? See what’s on the radio?”
A small giggle left your lips at the staged introduction to your song, nodding coolly as if you didn’t know what was coming. “Sure, sure.”
At the first notes of your song filter through the car speakers, you couldn’t contain your full-blown smile at the fact that it was your song that you wrote that James was singing along to. While you took the melody, James began to harmonize with you during the first chorus and tapped the beat on his steering wheel, and the only thing that you can think is that you were so incredibly lucky to be where you were.
After your song ended, you and James began chatting about your rise to fame, discussing your childhood and the process of writing your album. You exchanged the kind of banter that only James could facilitate, joking back and forth about your quirky habits (which, in your defense, you considered making up dance routines in your bathroom to your favorite Katy Perry songs completely normal) and then jamming out to “California Gurls” as a result, throwing in a few of the moves that you remembered choreographing in your shower when you were ten and, of course, rapping Snoop Dogg’s verse flawlessly.
“So, I don’t know if this is a rumor…” James began, reaching to turn down the volume of his car stereo.
You gave him a side glance, biting your lip out of nerves. “Oh, God.”
James chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “No, no, it’s not that terrible. But when I spoke to your mum earlier-” You scrunched your nose in distaste, knowing that whatever stories your mum was telling were most likely terrifyingly embarrassing. “-she mentioned that you had a small obsession with One Direction back in the good old days.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. “Of course she told you that.” You peeked at James through your fingers. “You had to ask my mom about this?”
James quirked an eyebrow. “Actually, your mum did mention it, but I first figured it out when I did some digging and found your old fan account on Instagram. What was it? ‘dragmedownstyles’?”
Your jaw dropped in disbelief, shocked that he found your old Instagram account that had since been inactive for three years. “Jesus Christ, James, you really do your research.” You shook your head, sighing dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. Can you tell who my favorite was?”
A chuckle left James’ mouth, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “It’s alright, love, we’ve all had our Harry phases, haven’t we?” He sighed theatrically. “Even I’ve fantasized about having my fingers card through his thick, curly locks now and again.”
You laughed loudly at that one, reaching up and slowly lifting his hand off your shoulder and back into his own lap. “Speak for yourself, Corden. That one’s a little weird.”
As the car turns the corner into a residential area, James decides to slowly pull over on the sidewalk and turned fully to face you in his seat. “You know, speaking of the man himself, I actually made a few calls before this-” You let out a small sound of disbelief, having a preemptive feeling about what was about to happen and barely registering the sound of the back door opening. “-and Harry’s actually in town right now, so just for you, Y/N-”
You spun around in your seat, meeting eyes with the one man that you never thought you’d have the luck to run into and letting out a small squeak. “Shut the fuck up, Corden.”
The man behind you let out a little laugh, the sound sending your heart into overdrive at the fact that you were hearing it in person for the first time in your life. “How’re you, love? Y’good?”
You shook your head in disbelief, letting out a nervous, high-pitched giggle. “I-you-I jus- I hate you so much right now, it’s unbelievable, James.” You smacked James right on the shoulder, causing him to let out a small “Hey!” and Harry to let out another little laugh. ‘God, please, stop laughing, or I’m gonna ask to make it my ringtone.’
“What d’ya mean, ‘you hate me’?” James questioned jokingly, shaking his head at you. “You love me right now.”
You threw your hands over your face again, bending forward in your seat so your head was in your lap before turning your head to the side to make eye contact with James. “Harry Styles is in the backseat,” you whispered, desperately trying to maintain some sense of sanity so you didn’t send him running to the hills.
“Yeah, ‘s crazy, innit?” Harry questioned from behind you, causing you to straighten back up in your seat and turn around to face him head on, mentally savoring his appearance so you can possibly fawn over it later. He was wearing a typical Harry Styles ensemble, donning a nearly transparent black button up properly tucked into a pair of mustard yellow flare pants, the tips of black boots peeking out from beneath the hem. Out of everything you admired Harry for, his sense of fashion was always near the top of your list, secretly vying for the ability to pull off his famous Gucci suits and stunning Alexander McQueen two-pieces.
You felt your heartbeat only pick up as you made eye contact with him again, a small giggle leaving your mouth before you could even begin to think about filtering your words. “You’re practically the love of my life, y’know that?”
His pink lips tilted up into one of the most attractive smirks you’d ever seen, clasping his hands in front of him. “Is tha’ right?” He turned his head to look at James. “Y’could’ve told me I’d be meeting m’soulmate today, Corden.” He made it a point to look down at his outfit. “I would’ve dressed up a bit more fo’ the occasion.”
The embarrassment of what you had just said hit you in the gut just then, causing you to sink down lower in your seat. ‘Goddammit, can I just go five seconds without saying something embarrassing?’ you thought to yourself, well aware that both men in the car could hear you. “‘Love of my life’? Really, Y/N?”
“Y’know,” James started, suddenly unbuckling his seatbelt before looking at you knowingly. “I think this conversation will go better if you just hop into the driver’s seat, Harry, and I take your spot in the back.”
You rolled your eyes at what James thought was subtlety, facing forward in your seat as they shift around to switch spots, knowing this footage will be cut out later for time’s sake. When Harry’s comfortably in the driver’s spot next to you with his seat belt buckled, and James is done adjusting himself in the middle of the backseat, Harry puts the car in drive and begins your journey back out on the road.
James clears his throat from behind you, leaning forward a bit so he’s closer to the cameras placed in front of you and Harry. “Shall we put on some music, Y/N?”
You looked at him and sighed lightly, knowing that he didn’t have to look far into your fan account to know what One Direction song was your favorite.
You were proven correct when Harry reached over to press play, the first notes of “Stockholm Syndrome” filtering into the car and prompting a cheeky, almost proud smirk onto Harry’s face. “‘s this your favorite?”
You smiled at him in response, singing along with the recorded version of him just to show him how much you actually loved this song, one of the most underrated ones off the album, in your opinion. “Who’s that shadow holding me hostage…”
It was a surreal experience, singing along to “Stockholm Syndrome” next to Harry freakin’ Styles with James Corden shouting out the chorus of “oh!”’s in time with the beat. You couldn’t stop giggling between lines, feeling as if it was an out-of-body experience that you’d conjured up out of the deep recesses of your imagination.
Just as the song faded into the bridge, you turned the volume down and slightly turned to face James. “Y’know, I’m kinda disappointed. No matching denim jackets for this one? Am I not special enough for you?”
Harry laughed at your comment, obviously catching your reference to the Carpool Karaoke with the rest of his bandmates. “You’ve failed us, James.”
James’ jaw dropped in mock offense, throwing his hands up in indignation. “What exactly d’you expect from me for this song? I’ll lock y’both in the basement, if y’want.”
“Kinky, Corden,” Harry responded, ever the quick-witted one.
“I’d prefer handcuffs, actually,” you added in unthinkingly, only understanding the implications of what you just said after Harry’s eyes go comically wide and a disbelieving little laugh escapes his lips.
“Save that for the bedroom, darling,” he admonished you, your complexion going unbelievably red at the fact that maybe, just maybe, Harry Styles just flirted with you. He then continued, smirking as he said, “This is a family show, Y/N.”
You ignored your palpitating heart to raise your eyebrows at him, knowing what response he wanted. “Or is it?”
You both take a second looking at each other before bursting out into laughter, and James’ amusement died down into a lost look of confusion. “Am I missing something?”
Harry scoffs quietly. “Fake fan.”
“Just turn on the next song, Styles,” James jokingly demanded, slouching back into his seat as the opening notes of “Only Angel” began to play.
Harry smiled at the choice of song, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you air-drummed to the beat and sang every word without fail. He might’ve been your musical idol, but he couldn’t help but think that you were a force to be reckoned with in more than just the music industry.
As the music faded back into the chorus of angels singing, James leaned forward to ask Harry a question. “What kind of woman prompts this song, hm, Harry?”
You giggled at the insinuation, knowing how many interviewers would kill to have the inside scoop on who Harry used as a muse for most of the songs on his album, and you decided to join in. “Yeah, Harry, who do you know that’s a ‘devil in between the sheets’?”
He smirked in response to both of your inquiries, turning to look at you with a suggestive glint in his eyes as he stopped at a red light. “That I know? Or would like to know?”
You blushed again at the insinuation behind his words, and James let out a gleeful (almost evil) cackle at the footage he was getting. “This’ll be great for the documentary I’m making for your wedding, guys, truly.”
You turned to hit James on the shoulder, laughing while your blush became even more prominent and Harry merely chuckled at the two of you as the car began to move again. The banter continued between you and Harry throughout the rest of the car ride, including an interesting game of ‘Who’d You Rather?’ (“Not that I don’t love you, Harry, really, but would you say no to Chris Hemsworth?”) followed by Harry’s impeccable impression of Julia Roberts (“Do I really have to be Julia again?”), so much so to the point where James felt like a third wheel and did not hesitate to verbalize it (“Let’s all agree that neither of you would be here having so much fun if it weren’t for me, yeah?”). By the end of the bit, no one could ignore the little smiles passed between the two of you, and the Instagram picture you posted that day ignited a wave of questions about how you met, what he smelled like in person, and if you were still alive (“James is sly, I’ll give ‘im that”, “Boy-ish? Is that a Bath and Body Works scent?”, and “No, no I’m not.”). Fans started collectively applauding James for his matchmaking abilities, but when later asked about his intentions of ringing Harry up about the episode, James could only shrug with a, “I guess I can add Cupid onto my lengthy list of accomplishments.”
word count: 2.3k
A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA
Liam arriving at Annabel’s private members club in London - 13.05
Everyone seems to see Harry as a dom. I see him more as a sub. What’s your opinion?
i personally think he’s a dom. i mean, let’s take a look at this. from this alone we can clearly assume that this beautiful bastard is into spanking
and this? when you get this look from him you better be prepared because you’ll be fucked by the end of the night. literally.
and last but not least…
this is when he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do to you after you (purposely) pissed him off. i mean… he’s options are endless (but please none of them butt stuff thing please)
alskskskakksks
i cannot keep up w all of the boys separately it’s like having 4 children who have 4 different after school activities you need to attend in a night and you don’t know how to make it to all of them
OMFG HARRY POSTED LOUIS OMG I’M SCREAMING
