One Direction One Shots 2

Take Me Home Special Edition (Niall)

“Watch the console!” Niall warned as my legs tangled in the chords and we both stumbled hard backwards, ripping the controller from the gaming system and nearly sending us to the ground. His arms tight around my waist to keep me steady as his face pulled in, trying not to show his frustration at tripping over his Xbox. 

“I’m sorry,” I laughed, holding my hand against the back of his head and clinging to his shoulder with the other. We’d attacked each other the minute we’d walked in the house. Having to be quiet because he still lived with his parents when he was home. Even though he could afford his own, he refused. At times I found it endearing that he wanted to spend as much time with his family as possible when he was home, but at times like these I didn’t find it so fun. Bobby was notorious for catching us and giving a little apology and a wink before closing the door. It always freaked me out but Niall laughed about it, shrugging his shoulders and calling it an Irish thing. 

“We need to get you in the damn bedroom,” he teased, “Before you break something else.”

“Like Obama?” I referred to the life sized statue that resided in Niall’s home. His odd obsession with the US President was yet another strangely endearing quality of his. 

“Don’t even joke,” he looked at me stern and I suppressed a giggle as he lifted me up, untangling my ankles from the chords so I could wrap my legs around his waist. Every time I saw him he looked different. Not the little Irishmen I was used to. With the shaggy bleached hair and crooked teeth. He was becoming a man. Filling out as much as his metabolism would let him. His face was near angelic, his skin so smooth and his lips pillowy and soft. His eyes so blue they were nearly lavender. 

“Fuck it,” he conceded when we continued to bounce off various objects around his house, finally dropping me into his dad’s favorite chair, draping me sideways so my back was propped against one arm of the chair and my legs were over the other. 

“Not in Bobby’s chair, Nialler. Take me to your room.” 

He didn’t listen to me, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling his red t-shirt over his head. His hair was down today, soft and pushed haphazard across his forehead. Just how I liked it. I curled my foot behind his leg, tapping my toes against the full shape of his ass while he worked on his buckle and stared down at me. 

“Take your clothes off,” he requested, his accent rolling deeper off his tongue.

“You do it.”

“I like watching you do it,” he confessed and my stomach grew hot. I knew how much he loved to watch. His head always tilted down to watch his cock disappear inside me. Catching glimpses of my own hand circling against myself while he fucked me. 

I kept my eyes on his face while his watched my hands carefully as I unbuttoned my jeans and slipped them down my legs, sitting up and pulling my shirt off and dropping it to the floor. I balanced my butt on the arm of the chair, rising up so he’d be standing between my legs as I worked his jeans open and kissed the center of his torso. The smooth pale skin was warm against my lips and when I swept my tongue against it I could taste nothing but him. 

He pushed his hand into my hair and tilted my head back, lowering his face to mine and nudging his nose against me. I smiled, pressing my lips to his and accepting the warm glide of his tongue as I held his slim sides. God, I missed him when he was away but this is how it was. We’d never really been together. We had these blurbs. Moments where he was mine and I was his but we knew it couldn’t go further. He was never home and he didn’t have the energy or time to put in much effort for anything more. I took what I could from him and he took all of me. And it’s just the way it was. I loved him. But he’d never know it. Not the way I wanted him to. 

“How do you want me?” I breathed against his lips and felt his fingers flex against my scalp. 

“I just want you,” he whispered and my heart flipped in my chest. 

“Sit down,” I directed and pulled him by the opening of his jeans, standing up and turning so I could push him back into the chair. I bent forward and pushed my hands up his thighs, curling them under his waistband and pulling the material down his legs. 

As I moved to straddle him his hands curled behind my thighs and aided me, smoothing up my backside as I hovered my needy entrance over his ready cock. Pulling my fingers through his hair, I stared down into the endless ocean of his blue eyes and felt that pull to tell him that I loved him that I often felt but as always I pushed it down deep. The only thing I needed right now was to please him. To feel him fill me. 

“Watch, Niall. I want you to look at how you stretch me.”

His eyes cast down as his cheeks flamed red and I lined him up to my sex and slowly lowered myself, taking in just his tip, clenching around him until his fingers tightened on my ass and his eyes darkened. Lowering more and more until he was deeply seated inside me. 

“Fucking hell, girl,” he groaned and I sighed at the relief of having him back where I felt he belonged. 

With a roll and a circling of my hips, I began moving over him. Around him. Against him. My ass softly smacking to the tops of his thighs as I rode him at a moderate pace, just wanting to feel him and be with him for a few moments. 

Niall held to the back of my neck, grazing his lips against my throat up to my ear as I waved my hips against him and felt his body flex against it.

“Fuck me the way I know you can,” Niall requested and I sighed, letting my head tilt back as I braced my arms around his body and picked up my pace. Alternating between hard and fast drops against him and slow and deep circles of my hips that were causing him to groan against the skin of my neck and hold tighter to me. 

I leaned back on his lap as he held to my waist and rode him, pumping against him while my hips swirled. Curse words catching on his lips and falling short. I could feel the tensing in his muscles and knew he was gearing up to take the control. Winding himself up like a spring toy before he picked me up and flipped me back to their coffee table, resting over me and bracing himself against the wood with one hand while his other reached between our bodies and trapped my clit between two of his fingers. 

The way his hips moved was unheard of. Circles that fed into figure eights and hard perfect thrusts that stroked his length against my inner walls, stirring up a delicious frenzy in my stomach and a tingling in my toes that travelled up my legs and to my finger tips.

“Fuck, Niall!”

“Shh,” his soft lips were on mine and I straggled over another moan. Fisting the back of his soft blonde hair, I arched into him and watched his face contort in pleasure. Scooping his arm under my leg, he hooked my knee in the crook of his elbow and fucked me deeper. I smacked my hand to the coffee table and dug my nails into the soft wood, feeling my orgasm building in heated waves under my skin. 

“Oh God,” I strangled out the words, my ears ringing and a flash of white hitting my vision like a blast before my body erupted around his cock. His body igniting me with each hard and swirling thrust. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Like that, oh fuck.” 

“Shit,” Niall groaned out as his muscles pulled under his dewy skin.

“Come for me, Nialler. Ugh, fuck!” My body trembled and fell apart as I came and the quaking of my muscles sent him down with me. Spilling warm until his body relaxed on top of me, trapping me between him and the coffee table but I didn’t mind. There was no place I’d rather be.

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