Last Night (1/1)
Title: Last Night
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2, 148
Fandom: One Direction
Characters: Niall Horan,
Ships: Niall Horan/YOU
Notes: I was talking to my friend Lisette and she said "Fuck me Niall Horan, and never call me again!" and i was inspired to write this
Summary: you meet Niall at a frat party, and then you fuck.
You heard about him before you met him. Niall Horan. All the girls were talking about him, always. Usually it was negative, about how he would just use you and then lose you. All the guys were friends with him, he was a typical ‘bro’, you’d heard about him all the time. It was a wonder you hadn’t had a single class or confrontation with him all year. But when the fraternities all threw a party together that May night to celebrate the end of the school year you were going. And your friends said he would be there and you weren’t about to miss out on that chance.
You barely knew anything about him. Already one hour in, two shots of vodka, and you hadn’t seen him, or anyone that looked like him. From what your friends told you he liked to wear snapbacks and tanktops. You knew he had blonde hair and a thick Irish accent. And as you helped yourself to another shot you thought to yourself how much you loved a man with an accent.
And it was almost like he knew you were inebriated and you felt a soft touch on your elbow. You whirled around, a bit off balance, and there he was. It had to be him. You couldn’t see well because it was dark and the strobe lights and the loud music made everything more unclear. But you could distinguish his snapback, his tanktop, and you heard the accent.
“Hello, love, doin’ alright?” He seemed sweet enough.
“Yeah, yeah,” you slurred. “I’m just a bit-yeah, I’m cool.”
“I’m Niall,” Niall offers.
“I know,” the words spill out of your mouth before you can think about it.
You exchange the typical small talk, and Niall smiles, and his smile is perfect. His eyes are so blue, you can tell that when he gets right in the light. His arms are smooth and firm, sculpted even, and you find yourself growing more drunk and flirtatious as time drags on. He can tell, of course, you think. He keeps touching you, light touches, to intrigue you. And you can tell what he’s doing, you really can.
He doesn’t seem as mischievous as people tell you, though. He actually seems really sweet, intelligent, and just extremely good looking. He takes off his hat about halfway through the night, ruffling his blonde hair and smiling coyly at you as he does so.
“What?” He grins.
You blush, “I, uh, no I just haven’t really been interested in blonde guys before.”
Niall lets out a loud laugh that nearly makes you jump, “You’re interested?”
Your face is practically burning and you’re so glad he can barely see you, “I, um-“
He leans in and presses his burning hand to your thigh. You shiver because it almost feels like you’ve been branded. The heat and the closeness of his body even more intoxicating than the vodka. He presses his lips against your ear and hisses, “I bet you’re so fucking wet for me. I’ve had a hard-on for you all night.”
He leans away and you feel your cunt practically throbbing. You bite your lip and anticipate on what to say. The alcohol fucks with your brain and you can’t even find a way to speak without practically moaning in his face. You take a deep breath and steady yourself and whisper back, “Jesus, Niall, what happened to the sweet Irishman back at the bar?”
He grins and you can see his eyes crinkle at the corners and you have to press your hand to your mouth as to not to emit any sound. He leans in again, “It’s not my fault you’re so beautiful. You wanna get out of here? My place is like a block away.”
“I, uh,” you didn’t want to leave your friends but at the same time Niall was so alluring. And at this point you were so worked up that if you had to get yourself off one more night you were about to go feral. “Sure.”
He led you by your hand and ordered some drinks to go. You walked side by side down the street drinking out of the beer bottles and bumping into each other occasionally. And my God, he knew how to talk. Everything he said had you hanging on his word, and you weren’t sure whether it was because of the accent or not. You stepped inside of his dorm room, messy, as expected.
“So, this is my humble abode for the semester,” Niall gestured around the room.
“It’s dark.”
He turns on the desk lamp, and you realize that you actually didn’t want to see the room anyway. It’s so messy you can barely navigate your way over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your body against his. And his kiss is soft, if not a bit demanding, he knows how to make you weak at the knees, literally. And he catches you with his strong arms when you feel yourself nearly collapse. And it’s so good.
“God,” Niall breathes against your neck, pressing kisses all over your jaw and neckline. “You’re so fucking hot. I’ve wanted to fuck you all night. I know you’ve been gagging for it.”
“Oh fuck,” you exhale as he walks you backward and you both collapse onto the bed. “Niall, please.”
He slowly runs his firm hand up your thigh, resting it right at the apex of your thighs and you gyrate your hips towards him. He chuckles a little and bites your lower lip between his teeth. He unzips the back of your dress and slowly pulls it down your torso. You hadn’t been wearing a bra because your friends told you it wouldn’t be necessary. You never thought this would be the reason why. He slowly lays you on your back and crawls between your legs, pressing his weight against you.
He envelopes your breasts in his hands and rolls and squeezes your nipples with his fingers. You gasp and caress his hair softly, pressing kisses against his temple. He kisses between the valley of your breasts, teasing you. And you practically shout at him to get on with it. He licks enticingly slowly at your nipple, rolling the other one between his fingers. You groan and try not to be too loud but you almost can’t help it because it just feels that good.
“I wanna make you fucking scream,” he murmurs. “Yell for me, babe.”
“Oh fucking hell Niall,” you pant.
He smirks and resumes his attention to your tits. And you find yourself edging his tanktop over his shoulderblades and he just chuckles and obliges you and takes it off. You run your hand down his chest, smooth and broad, and you lower him back to you and gently suck on his collar bone. He moans and moves his hand down and slides the rest of your dress down your legs. You’re just lying there in a pair of skimpy panties and at first you feel embarrassed.
“Babe,” he pulls away from you. “I just…” he scans your body. “Fuck.”
He trails his hand down your stomach, slowly, always slowly, and finally hooks his fingers into your panties and slides them down your thighs, and he swipes his thumb across the crotch and moans, “so wet for me.”
And you can’t help but giggle drunkenly, because yes, you are. And you’ve been wet all night and he’s finally there, and you’re finally fucking and its happening. He spreads your legs slowly, kissing down your stomach and resting at your pubic bone, and you can tell he’s looking at you, studying you and you have to look away because no one’s ever really looked before.
“Your cunt’s beautiful,” you detect pure awe in his voice and your throat catches.
He runs his fingers along the outline of your thighs, around your outer labia, caressing every inch of you and now you get why all the girls talk about him like he’s some god. And then his mouth is on you, and you can barely breathe because it just feels so good already. He barely even got started and you already can feel your climax just seconds away. His tongue slowly encircles the tiny bundle of nerves and his fingers slowly enter you, scissoring in and out. And then, finally, he picks up speed, his tongue now flicking, his fingers practically making obscene noises with how fast they’re fucking you. And then he sucks and the pressure is almost too much and you wrap your legs around his head and beg for him to make you cum, you beg for him to go faster, harder. And you almost don’t even recognize yourself because you were never this vocal, never this bold, but it’s something about Niall.
And when you cum, you can barely catch your breath. And he’s relentless, he just doesn’t stop his assault and you’re about to cum again. And it just feels so good you practically thrust yourself in his face but he doesn’t mind. He seems to enjoy it. And he slowly lifts his head from your cunt once you’ve came for a second time. His face is glistening and you want to look away because you’re so embarrassed.
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and smirks up at you, “Want another one?”
You laugh and press the back of your hand to your mouth and say, “No, I want to fuck you…come here.”
He takes off his jeans and underwear and he’s pressing kisses along your chest again, paying special attention to the areas that made you moan for him before. And it just feels so incredible. He presses his thumb against your clit and it’s almost too sensitive that it hurts. You writhe away from him, trying to decide whether you want it or not. And he’s teasing you again, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit, running it up and down your slit.
“Fuck, Niall, fuck, please,” you’re not even thinking about coherent sentences at this point.
His face is redder than you’ve ever seen. And it’s almost beautiful, his whole body is flushed red and he’s sweaty and wet from a combination of all sorts of things you don’t even want to think about. And he finally presses himself inside of you, and you can feel him, and he’s even bigger than you thought he was. And it’s a bit of pain at first but it goes away within seconds and he’s moving slowly, he always starts slow. He still kisses your jawline, his eyes on you the whole time to gauge your reaction and pleasure. And fuck it’s just so good. You beg him to go faster, beg him to give you all of him. And he finally does and you can feel him hitting you in just the right spot over and over again. It’s almost excruciating just how good it feels. And he knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly how to move his hips and how to kiss at you.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he groans in your ear.
And my God, he sounds so fucking hot when he curses, “Harder, Niall, harder.”
“Jesus Christ,” he pants as he pumps his hips faster.
He moves his hips around, angling you perfectly so he’s hitting you right there. And you’re almost screaming by the time he’s gasping that he’s going to cum. You feel your whole body shake and give over to pleasure. The familiar tingle in your stomach and pussy clenches around his cock and that’s enough to get him off. He yells out your name and moans as he spills inside of you, his movements becoming slow and jagged. He rests his head against your chest and you sigh as you run your fingers through his hair.
He pulls out after a few minutes and you feel emptier than you remembered. And he begins to put his clothes back on and you frown at him.
“Where’re you going?”
He turns around and grins, “Back to the party, babe.”
“What, you’re just gonna leave me here?” you ask indicating down at your naked body.
“No, I was gonna take you, silly,” his grin is infectious and you’re smiling before you know it.
“Yeah, I’d like you to go around naked the whole night too,” he hands your dress and panties back to you. “But, there are laws against that shit.”
“Oh, how tragic for you.”
He waits for you to get dressed and wraps his arm around your back and you walk back towards the party. And he doesn’t call the next day, you didn’t think he would. In fact, you never see or hear from Niall Horan again. But you will remember that night for the rest of your life.
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2, 148
Fandom: One Direction
Characters: Niall Horan,
Ships: Niall Horan/YOU
Notes: I was talking to my friend Lisette and she said "Fuck me Niall Horan, and never call me again!" and i was inspired to write this
Summary: you meet Niall at a frat party, and then you fuck.
You heard about him before you met him. Niall Horan. All the girls were talking about him, always. Usually it was negative, about how he would just use you and then lose you. All the guys were friends with him, he was a typical ‘bro’, you’d heard about him all the time. It was a wonder you hadn’t had a single class or confrontation with him all year. But when the fraternities all threw a party together that May night to celebrate the end of the school year you were going. And your friends said he would be there and you weren’t about to miss out on that chance.
You barely knew anything about him. Already one hour in, two shots of vodka, and you hadn’t seen him, or anyone that looked like him. From what your friends told you he liked to wear snapbacks and tanktops. You knew he had blonde hair and a thick Irish accent. And as you helped yourself to another shot you thought to yourself how much you loved a man with an accent.
And it was almost like he knew you were inebriated and you felt a soft touch on your elbow. You whirled around, a bit off balance, and there he was. It had to be him. You couldn’t see well because it was dark and the strobe lights and the loud music made everything more unclear. But you could distinguish his snapback, his tanktop, and you heard the accent.
“Hello, love, doin’ alright?” He seemed sweet enough.
“Yeah, yeah,” you slurred. “I’m just a bit-yeah, I’m cool.”
“I’m Niall,” Niall offers.
“I know,” the words spill out of your mouth before you can think about it.
You exchange the typical small talk, and Niall smiles, and his smile is perfect. His eyes are so blue, you can tell that when he gets right in the light. His arms are smooth and firm, sculpted even, and you find yourself growing more drunk and flirtatious as time drags on. He can tell, of course, you think. He keeps touching you, light touches, to intrigue you. And you can tell what he’s doing, you really can.
He doesn’t seem as mischievous as people tell you, though. He actually seems really sweet, intelligent, and just extremely good looking. He takes off his hat about halfway through the night, ruffling his blonde hair and smiling coyly at you as he does so.
“What?” He grins.
You blush, “I, uh, no I just haven’t really been interested in blonde guys before.”
Niall lets out a loud laugh that nearly makes you jump, “You’re interested?”
Your face is practically burning and you’re so glad he can barely see you, “I, um-“
He leans in and presses his burning hand to your thigh. You shiver because it almost feels like you’ve been branded. The heat and the closeness of his body even more intoxicating than the vodka. He presses his lips against your ear and hisses, “I bet you’re so fucking wet for me. I’ve had a hard-on for you all night.”
He leans away and you feel your cunt practically throbbing. You bite your lip and anticipate on what to say. The alcohol fucks with your brain and you can’t even find a way to speak without practically moaning in his face. You take a deep breath and steady yourself and whisper back, “Jesus, Niall, what happened to the sweet Irishman back at the bar?”
He grins and you can see his eyes crinkle at the corners and you have to press your hand to your mouth as to not to emit any sound. He leans in again, “It’s not my fault you’re so beautiful. You wanna get out of here? My place is like a block away.”
“I, uh,” you didn’t want to leave your friends but at the same time Niall was so alluring. And at this point you were so worked up that if you had to get yourself off one more night you were about to go feral. “Sure.”
He led you by your hand and ordered some drinks to go. You walked side by side down the street drinking out of the beer bottles and bumping into each other occasionally. And my God, he knew how to talk. Everything he said had you hanging on his word, and you weren’t sure whether it was because of the accent or not. You stepped inside of his dorm room, messy, as expected.
“So, this is my humble abode for the semester,” Niall gestured around the room.
“It’s dark.”
He turns on the desk lamp, and you realize that you actually didn’t want to see the room anyway. It’s so messy you can barely navigate your way over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your body against his. And his kiss is soft, if not a bit demanding, he knows how to make you weak at the knees, literally. And he catches you with his strong arms when you feel yourself nearly collapse. And it’s so good.
“God,” Niall breathes against your neck, pressing kisses all over your jaw and neckline. “You’re so fucking hot. I’ve wanted to fuck you all night. I know you’ve been gagging for it.”
“Oh fuck,” you exhale as he walks you backward and you both collapse onto the bed. “Niall, please.”
He slowly runs his firm hand up your thigh, resting it right at the apex of your thighs and you gyrate your hips towards him. He chuckles a little and bites your lower lip between his teeth. He unzips the back of your dress and slowly pulls it down your torso. You hadn’t been wearing a bra because your friends told you it wouldn’t be necessary. You never thought this would be the reason why. He slowly lays you on your back and crawls between your legs, pressing his weight against you.
He envelopes your breasts in his hands and rolls and squeezes your nipples with his fingers. You gasp and caress his hair softly, pressing kisses against his temple. He kisses between the valley of your breasts, teasing you. And you practically shout at him to get on with it. He licks enticingly slowly at your nipple, rolling the other one between his fingers. You groan and try not to be too loud but you almost can’t help it because it just feels that good.
“I wanna make you fucking scream,” he murmurs. “Yell for me, babe.”
“Oh fucking hell Niall,” you pant.
He smirks and resumes his attention to your tits. And you find yourself edging his tanktop over his shoulderblades and he just chuckles and obliges you and takes it off. You run your hand down his chest, smooth and broad, and you lower him back to you and gently suck on his collar bone. He moans and moves his hand down and slides the rest of your dress down your legs. You’re just lying there in a pair of skimpy panties and at first you feel embarrassed.
“Babe,” he pulls away from you. “I just…” he scans your body. “Fuck.”
He trails his hand down your stomach, slowly, always slowly, and finally hooks his fingers into your panties and slides them down your thighs, and he swipes his thumb across the crotch and moans, “so wet for me.”
And you can’t help but giggle drunkenly, because yes, you are. And you’ve been wet all night and he’s finally there, and you’re finally fucking and its happening. He spreads your legs slowly, kissing down your stomach and resting at your pubic bone, and you can tell he’s looking at you, studying you and you have to look away because no one’s ever really looked before.
“Your cunt’s beautiful,” you detect pure awe in his voice and your throat catches.
He runs his fingers along the outline of your thighs, around your outer labia, caressing every inch of you and now you get why all the girls talk about him like he’s some god. And then his mouth is on you, and you can barely breathe because it just feels so good already. He barely even got started and you already can feel your climax just seconds away. His tongue slowly encircles the tiny bundle of nerves and his fingers slowly enter you, scissoring in and out. And then, finally, he picks up speed, his tongue now flicking, his fingers practically making obscene noises with how fast they’re fucking you. And then he sucks and the pressure is almost too much and you wrap your legs around his head and beg for him to make you cum, you beg for him to go faster, harder. And you almost don’t even recognize yourself because you were never this vocal, never this bold, but it’s something about Niall.
And when you cum, you can barely catch your breath. And he’s relentless, he just doesn’t stop his assault and you’re about to cum again. And it just feels so good you practically thrust yourself in his face but he doesn’t mind. He seems to enjoy it. And he slowly lifts his head from your cunt once you’ve came for a second time. His face is glistening and you want to look away because you’re so embarrassed.
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and smirks up at you, “Want another one?”
You laugh and press the back of your hand to your mouth and say, “No, I want to fuck you…come here.”
He takes off his jeans and underwear and he’s pressing kisses along your chest again, paying special attention to the areas that made you moan for him before. And it just feels so incredible. He presses his thumb against your clit and it’s almost too sensitive that it hurts. You writhe away from him, trying to decide whether you want it or not. And he’s teasing you again, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit, running it up and down your slit.
“Fuck, Niall, fuck, please,” you’re not even thinking about coherent sentences at this point.
His face is redder than you’ve ever seen. And it’s almost beautiful, his whole body is flushed red and he’s sweaty and wet from a combination of all sorts of things you don’t even want to think about. And he finally presses himself inside of you, and you can feel him, and he’s even bigger than you thought he was. And it’s a bit of pain at first but it goes away within seconds and he’s moving slowly, he always starts slow. He still kisses your jawline, his eyes on you the whole time to gauge your reaction and pleasure. And fuck it’s just so good. You beg him to go faster, beg him to give you all of him. And he finally does and you can feel him hitting you in just the right spot over and over again. It’s almost excruciating just how good it feels. And he knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly how to move his hips and how to kiss at you.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he groans in your ear.
And my God, he sounds so fucking hot when he curses, “Harder, Niall, harder.”
“Jesus Christ,” he pants as he pumps his hips faster.
He moves his hips around, angling you perfectly so he’s hitting you right there. And you’re almost screaming by the time he’s gasping that he’s going to cum. You feel your whole body shake and give over to pleasure. The familiar tingle in your stomach and pussy clenches around his cock and that’s enough to get him off. He yells out your name and moans as he spills inside of you, his movements becoming slow and jagged. He rests his head against your chest and you sigh as you run your fingers through his hair.
He pulls out after a few minutes and you feel emptier than you remembered. And he begins to put his clothes back on and you frown at him.
“Where’re you going?”
He turns around and grins, “Back to the party, babe.”
“What, you’re just gonna leave me here?” you ask indicating down at your naked body.
“No, I was gonna take you, silly,” his grin is infectious and you’re smiling before you know it.
“Yeah, I’d like you to go around naked the whole night too,” he hands your dress and panties back to you. “But, there are laws against that shit.”
“Oh, how tragic for you.”
He waits for you to get dressed and wraps his arm around your back and you walk back towards the party. And he doesn’t call the next day, you didn’t think he would. In fact, you never see or hear from Niall Horan again. But you will remember that night for the rest of your life.