One Direction One Shots

This is a collection of my One Direction one shots. Every time I get a new one written I will upload it as a chapter or two here :)

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2. The Boy With the Tattoo { Louis Tomlinson not-famous }


I'd recommend you listen to Gabrielle Aplin's song "Lying To the Mirror" or The Fray's "How To Save a Life" while reading this. It's just a suggestion, but I think the songs fit well to this one-shot. Turn the music up and enjoy! :)

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"Come on." The blood in my veins had become intoxicated by the rush of standing so close to him as I was. In reality it might have been the vodka shots, but I refused to let my body believe the otherwise. Maybe it was this feeling that dizzied my mind and made me grasp for his warm hand. 

Caspar smiled at me as I gently pulled him out of the door behind us. Out of the damp room with the tipsy teenagers, out into the dark and mysterious night, that still had so much to come.

For as long as I could remember, Caspar had been my secret crush. I was pretty sure that almost everyone in our High School knew it by now - even the guy himself, who right in this moment was standing in front of me, so close I could barely breathe. Both knowing that I had a weakness for him, tonight the alcohol in my system had helped me take a bold decision: Talk to him while I still had the chance. And until now, everything had been heading right the way I wanted them.

Caspar narrowed the distance between us down as he stepped closer to me, and we backed up against the hard brick wall behind us, me now pinned in between his arms with his gorgeous face right in front of me. A tingling sensation went through my body as he finally leaned in and roughly placed his lips on mine. For over three years I had wanted this to happen. All those nights of wishing on a wishing star had finally come to good.

Caspar's lips moved down to my neck, leaving kisses all over the sensitive skin as he trailed downwards. A moment later I felt his body pushing hard against my breasts, leaving me breathless and sore. What was he doing?

A groan escaped him as he forcefully pushed himself in between my thighs.

"What the hell?" I frantically cried. This was definitely not what I'd had in mind when I exited the party with him.

He glanced up at me, his eyes empty and dark. Lustful. "Come on, Meg. It's nothing big." His hands slowly trailed down my body, but there was nothing I could do to stop him from doing what he supposedly desired. His arms on either side of my head were too strong, trapping me inside with his hot breath tickling against the skin on my neck.

This was going too far.

"Stop," I whispered, hopelessly trying to remove his strong hands from my body. But he went on as if he hadn't heard me. Only I knew he had.

"Leave me alone, Caspar!" His grip on my hips were getting harshly uncomfortable. Almost violent. I placed my hands on his chest and forcefully tried to push him away from me. He retreated a little, but it didn't make a difference. I was still pinned to the wall beneath him.

"I didn't know you were this feisty," Caspar chuckled, a smirk showing slightly in the corner of his mouth. For each second, I watched as the darkness in his eyes grew bigger.

Suddenly, I was frightened.

When his hands grasped for my private place once again, in a last exclaim I tried to get him to pull back from me. "Get off me, Caspar! Stop!"

Then, out of nowhere, I was released from the imprisonment of his arms. Caspar was suddenly on the ground, lying in a weak position with a hand to protect his now bleeding nose. A stone-hard fist had hit him on his right temple, sending him into the ground like a knock-out.

The episode was still playing on replay before my eyes when the guy who distributed the blow stepped closer to his target.

"Don't go near that girl again," he said, his voice shaking as he looked down at Caspar and pointed a finger towards me. "If you do, things far worse than this will happen."

His words hung in the cool night air. Not for a second was I doubting if he was joking or not; what he said wasn't an empty threat.

Fear showed in Caspar's wide, green eyes. Quick as a leopard and supple as a cat, he got up from the ground and ran out of the dark alley. From where I was standing, it looked like he fled on down the street.

My savior watched him run with a judging frown on his face. He slowly shook his head. "Coward."

He turned to look at me, clearly worried. "Are you okay?"

I knew this guy. He was... one of the punks at my school. Always getting new tattoos, ditching school, smoking cigarettes, and, like now, wearing a dark-red beanie over his brown hair with a tank top that barely covered any of his slightly tanned skin. His lower right arm was covered up in stupid tattoos of paper darts and teacups, and just above the edge of his tank top, on his upper chest, the words It Is What It Is were inked into his skin. 

I looked into his eyes. Grey with a twist of bright blue. "Of course. I'm fine."

He smiled despairingly at me. "Really? It didn't sound like you felt that way a couple of minutes ago."

I swallowed. This guy was right, wasn't he? If he hadn't stepped in... I wouldn't even want to think about what could have happened. What Caspar might have done to me. 

"I don't-" The words got trapped in my throat before I got to say them. Before I knew it I felt the tears prickling in my eyes, begging me to let them out.

The guy saw and wrapped his strong arms around me, biting his lip as he held me a bit closer. "Shhh," he comforted. "He's not coming back. I'll make sure of that."

I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck, completely forgetting about the fact that this guy was a stranger, someone I knew barely anything about. But right now he seemed to be the only person around who actually wanted to comfort me and make me feel better about the horrific episode I had just experienced.

"Everything's gonna be okay. No one's going to hurt you," he whispered and put his head on my shoulder, gently stroking my hair with his rough hands.

"What's your name?" I silently mumbled with a shiver.

His raspy voice echoed in my ear. "Louis. What's yours, beautiful?"

My hands fisted his tank top before I pulled away. "Meg."

His arm slipped around my waist before he slowly started walking with me out of the dark alley and its terrible memories. "Come on. Let's take you away from this place."


*

I stared down at the blue ink on the tip of my black Converse with a feeling that I had ruined them by scribbling down my thoughts on them. Every time I looked at the tiny heart with the small C inside, I thought of all the times I had been so caught up in Caspar that it had made me blind. How come I never saw the real him, but only the beautiful guy that forever and always had a new girl by his side? I should've known. 

I pulled my legs up against the tall curb and let my fingers scratch in the graveled pathway we were sitting on.

An almost unintelligible grunt sounded from beside me. "Want one?"

I glanced up to see Louis holding a cigarette out towards me, looking like he didn't anticipate me to accept it at all. I guess I would make his expectation come true. "No thanks."

"Well, just thought it would make you feel better," he mumbled, taking the cigarette in between his own lips and pulling out a lighter from his short's pocket. He lit the cigarette, closing his eyes when the relaxed rush of the nicotine hit him.

"I'm feeling fine," I told him.

"No, you're not. You're feeling awful." He said it casual and right on spot, like he could tell whether I was lying or not. 

I chose not to answer him and trailed off onto a new subject. "Why do you smoke?"

He took the cigarette from his lips and exhaled the smoke from his lungs in a long breath, almost like a sigh. He gazed over at me. "I guess it makes me feel whole, complete. Instead of caring for someone it's easier just to take the easy way out and let yourself go."

I nodded when I understood his purpose of it all. He felt alone. Smoking and the bad boy image was his way of feeling better with himself. If I hadn't had any friends and if I had been different from everyone else, I'm sure I would have chosen to walk down the same path.

It was incredible how I had only known this guy for a couple of hours or so, and still, here I was, talking to him like I've known him for years. I guess life-changing experiences really do tie people close together somehow.

"Thank you, Louis." I turned to stare into his deep, grey eyes, a slightly serious frown on my face. "For saving me back there."

He thoughtfully stared back at me; the beanie on his head had fallen a bit out of place. "I didn't have a choice. He was a dickhead, and you were trapped in between him as an innocent girl. I couldn't just pass you knowing what was going on, could I? That would have been cruel of me."

"No, it would have been cruel of you to do anything more to Caspar than you already have." My throat felt dry, like I hadn't had something to drink for days.

A scornful twitch showed by his mouth as he briefly flashed a smile at the ground, before staring tensely out into the air in front of him. "You deserve way better than him, Meg." 

What, now he thought he could play Cupid before he even really knew me? "Oh yeah, like who?" I sarcastically spoke.

The gaze he had been holding in front of him now turned towards me. For a short moment his eyes trailed down to my lips, but then they met my eyes again.

Surprisingly, and just afterwards, he turned away from me. Strangely enough he seemed to be a tad doubtful about his movement, but maybe it was just my mind playing games with me. For a second or two all I could hear was his fingers tapping impatiently against the graveled pathway, but then a few resignedly words slipped from his mouth. "Oh, fuck it."

His one arm slipped around my waist and swiftly pulled me onto his lap in a movement so fast I didn't believe my own eyes - the power he must've had if he could lift me with one arm that easily was unimaginable. Then, his face lowered from above me. Before I knew it, his soft lips were placed on mine in a kiss so spontaneous and emotional I could barely make sense of what was happening. 

When he broke off, he made sure to keep his face not too far away from mine. He tugged in some of my loose fringe and a smile barely visible showed on his lips, as his eyes sparkled in the dim lights of the street.

"Someone like me," his slightly hoarse voice whispered in my ear when he leaned down and placed a long kiss on my forehead.

Some may believe that this was the worst night of my life, but they don't think of the otherwise. Because for me, it was the exact opposite.

And only because that certain Punk boy and his tattoos had walked into my life when I least had expected it.

 

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