One Direction Imagines

You're all I can think about

  You flop onto your bed, sighing and closing your eyes for a moment. It's been exactly a week since you saw One Direction and the feelings from the night are all crashing down again. You went with some of your best friends and got the chance to meet the boys. You and Niall Horan, who happens to be your favorite and your all-time idol, talked for awhile and it seemed so effortless, how easy the conversation came. He even pulled you on stage during "Everything About You" and serenaded you, holding your hand for most of the time. Security was pissed, but you're glad he did it. It was a dream come true and when he kissed you on the cheek, that moment just felt so... Real.

"I want that night back." You whisper to yourself, feeling the cool plastic of Niall's guitar pick in your pocket. He gave it to you as you were leaving the VIP area and you haven't lost track of it since.

You pull it out of your pocket and really take the time to examine it. It was just a plain yellow pick with the One Direction logo on it, but it was enough of a momento for you. You get up and stride over to your dresser to put the pick down when you notice a familiar smudge on your finger. You curse quietly and rub it off with your other hand, wondering why almost everyday you have pen on yourself. That's when you flip the pick over and actually see it. In very tiny, Sharpie pen print, there is a number written with a heart next to it. It's fairly faded, you realize, because you have accidentally rubbed it in, but you can still make it out well enough.

"Oh my god," you choke, realizing what it was. "This isn't possible."

You throw yourself back onto your bed, clawing at your phone to dial the number with haste. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you're growing hot and sweaty with excitement. He wouldn't do that, though, you think doubtfully. There's no way he would thi-

"Hello?" A smooth, angelic voice answers. You're finding your throat is closed shut, so you awkwardly cough your way into a fit to clear it. "Are you okay?" He asks hesitantly and you can tell you're slightly scaring him.

"Hi!" You reply eagerly, hitting yourself to try and calm down. "Hi. Uh, it's [y/n]. My best friend and I chased you on your bike last week and you sang to me and gave me a pick. At least, I think you did." You pause, suddenly unsure. "Is... this Niall?"

"Ah," You can hear him smiling through the phone and your breath catches. God, he's beautiful, you think. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me." You choke at his words and start coughing again, but he just laughs and stays on the line.

"Forget about you?" You clear your throat. "Not sure that's really possible. It's just that I just now saw the number on the pick and, uh, decided to call... If that's okay."

"Perfectly fine," He replies smoothly. "I was really hoping you would."

"But why?" You question. It really didn't make sense to you. He was Niall Horan, for God's sake. He meets loads of pretty girls every single day.

"I wanted to hang out with you," He mumbles. "You know, just us. You seemed really cool and down-to-earth. I haven't met anyone like that in awhile." He pauses and laughs shortly. "I'm still in your state, too. For some big interview tomorrow, I guess."

"Okay," You reply through a thick grin. "I'd really like to hang out too. When are you free? And where should we go?" Your head was frantic; all the possibilities of hanging with Niall were making you dizzy. It still didn't seem real.

"Text me your address and I'll be there in, say," He pauses again. "An hour? We can just hang out and talk: whatever you'd like."

"My house sounds good." You nearly cut him off. You swivel your head to look at all the 1D posters and gulp. You really hope he doesn't want to go in your room.

But then again, you really do.

~~~

You're awakened by a faint knock on the door. You hadn't realized you'd dozed off until the feeling of your heavy lids becomes strong.

"Am I forgetting something?" You ask yourself, stretching and rubbing your eyes gingerly. Your phone buzzes on the bed, revealing your many notifications. 4 missed calls and 7 new texts from Niall Horan.

"OH MY GOD." You shout, flailing your way to the bathroom mirror. You know you're keeping him waiting at the door, but you need to make sure you look okay. It wasn't often that you got to hang out with the guy of your dreams.

You cringe as you take a quick swig of mouthwash and leaf your fingers through your hair carefully. You look good: not too dressed up, but not too home-y either. Before you leave, you give yourself a moment to make deep eye contact in the mirror. You're really pretty and you can see why Niall would want you; you're grateful he took the chance and you're praying nothing will go wrong.

"Hey, sorry!" You laugh sweetly as you open the door, alarmed by the sudden brightness of the outside world. "I took a bit of a nap. Not intentionally, though." You laugh again, hoping you don't sound too forced.

"It's alright," Niall smiles. He leans in to warmly hug you and your throat closes. "I'm just glad you didn't stand me up or anything." His eyes narrow and he bites his lip. "Even though it is at your own house..." You both laugh and you gesture for him to come in.

He looks astonishing, you recall. His torso is hugged by a light gray shirt, the cuffs snugly encircling his tan forearms. His cargo shorts fit around his waist perfectly and contrast against his gray laced shoes. His willowy blondish-brown hair is ruffled and swooped messily, the way you like it. But the thing you can't help but look away from are his hazy, aqua blue eyes. He's staring at you with such intensity and you can feel the tension building up between you.

"Your eyes are beautiful." He smiles sheepishly, rubbing his neck and looking down at his shoes.

"So are yours." You reply lamely. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how you've been waiting for a day like this for years. You don't want to compliment him on the little things, no. You want to let him into your mind and really let him see you.

You want to have him.

You cautiously approach him like he's dangerous territory and reach your hand out. Gently slipping your palm into his, you look into his eyes once again and smile.

"Hi." You whisper with a big grin. He returns the smile and leans in a bit closer.

"You're really messing with my head." He smirks, holding your other hand. The heat between you grows and your heart skips multiple beats. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we met. When did you figure out I liked you?"

"I didn't." You reply honestly, circling patters on his forearm. "But I guess it's obvious now." You tilt your head up slowly and gaze at him through your eyelashes. He gulps and moves his hands to your waist.

"Guess so," he murmurs before softly planting a kiss.

He pulls back half a centimeter and you both stay there, breathing each others air with your eyes closed. You lightly meet his lips again, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. Your grips on each other are so intimate, so loving that your heart swells. You smile into the kiss and move your hands to gently pull his face away for some air. He looks at you knowingly and you reply with an anxious look.

"Whatever you want to do." He whispers onto your lips, clenching the hem of your shirt in his fist. The gesture sent goosebumps down your arms. You'd never felt so alive and you were ready for anything.

You pull away from him, lacing your fingers through his to lead him to your room. His reaction doesn't change when he sees the amount of posters on your wall. Instead, he smiles cheekily, resting his hand on the small of your back and pulling you into another passionate kiss.

"I suppose this way, I'm always with you," he breathes, pushing you slightly towards your bed.

You juke away from his movement, tapping his chest. He staggers backward unexpectedly and sits on the sheets, grinning as you straddle his lap. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you kiss him deeply, humming quietly at the softness of his lips. He lays his hands on your back, rubbing softly underneath your shirt. The roughness of his touch on your back makes you shiver in approval. He nibbles gently on your bottom lip, asking wordlessly for entrance. You let him dominate, his tongue hungrily covering every region of your mouth. Your kisses become more hectic and the initial giggles of excitement turn to moans of appreciation.

"You're wearing far too much clothing," you whisper, wiggling your eyebrow.

Running your hands up his stomach, he stares at you lovingly as you lift off his shirt and reveal his flawless tan skin. He tugs playfully on your shirt, taunting you. You rip it off yourself and his eyes widen.

"You really want this," he says, eying your now exposed torso.

You kiss him again in response and he chuckles, undoing the hook of your bra in one hand, using the other to pull your head back. He uses the motion as an advantage, sucking sweetly on your neck, earning a lengthy moan from you. He finds your sweet spot, kissing the hollow of your collarbone while you struggle to undo his pants. When you finally manage it, you hop off of him to pull them down slowly, teasing him with each second that passes. He slides onto the edge of the bed, clearly frustrated with your speed. Once his pants are off, you move your head right above his groin and exhale slowly, the heat of your breath causing him to fidget. You can already see the bulge forming underneath his silk boxers and the thought of you being the one to do that to him drove you crazy. You keep your mouth hovering over his groin, pulling at the boxer's waistband with patience. Niall squirms and decides he's had enough, shoving your hands down his legs, the underwear down with them. His erection is evident and you touch it lightly with your fingers, giving him the most sultry look you can manage.

"Oh my god," Niall chokes. "You look so hot like this, baby."

You begin pumping his length, dragging your tongue across his balls randomly. He begins bucking his hips, throwing his head back in pleasure. You continue tugging at him, growing wetter yourself at how much he was enjoying it. He pulls your hair suddenly, pushing your lips further down onto him. You lick a slow line up his cock, cupping his balls in your hand. You take him in as much as possible, a hard task because of how big he is. With your other hand, you pump what you can't fit in your mouth and swirl your tongue around his shaft. He pushes lightly on your head when you go down, his vision white from the pleasure you were giving.

"Fuck, love," he pants, his face distorted and beading with sweat. "You're so good, baby."

You hum around him, causing him to flinch and groan heartily. You decide to do it again and he mumbles dirty words, laughing at the overwhelming feeling.

"Shit, I'm already getting clo- oh-" his breath catches and he has to push you off of him, grunting and rolling his head back in delight. You snicker at his enjoyment and his head snaps in your direction, eyes fiery with lust. "You think this is funny?" He growls, pushing you onto the bed. "We'll see how fun it is for you."

He tears your panties off with his teeth, making you gasp at the coolness of exposure. He creates a trail from your calf to your inner thigh with his tongue, not breaking eye contact once. You whine, circling your hips as he feverishly licks the skin right next to your slit. You can feel the knot in your stomach beginning to form and you wish he would just have his way with you already.

"Someone," he chuckles, sliding his finger up down your opening, noting how wet you are already. "is really excited."

"Shut up and touch me, Niall," you shout, your throat hoarse.

He obeys immediately, lapping away at your entrance. The sensation makes you scream and he tortures you more by pressing hard on your clit, moving his thumb in swift circles. You thrash wildly, the feeling of him violating you sending you into overdrive. He removes his hand from your clit to press down on your stomach, keeping you in place as he works his tongue on you.

"Fuck, Niall, that's so- oh my god-" You gasp maniacally as he plunges his mouth deeper inside you. He was right, it was really hard not to come so early.

He has his share of snickering and the vibrations make you arch your back, earning a deep yell of pleasure from you. You grip the bedsheets so hard your knuckles turn white, willing yourself not to release so soon.

"Ni-ahh-Niall." You squeeze your eyes shut. "Fuck, babe, fuck I- ooo- shit-," you make out between staggered breaths.

He stops abruptly and lunges at you, colliding your lips once more. You gyrate your hips against each other, feeling the friction increase. Your moans become in sync and it's not long before one of you is thrown over.

"I need you now," he grunts, positioning himself at your entrance.

He gives you no time to adjust, ramming his cock in and pounding your g-spot instantly. You scream and squirm, gripping his back tightly as he slowly, but firmly rides you.

"Shit," he groans. "You're so fucking tight."

"You're too big," you gasp, your vision blurring from the feeling. "Fuck, baby, I can feel all of you."

He pauses and puts a pillow beneath your hips, angling you so he can thrust deeper. His pace quickens and you can hear his unsteady breathing. Niall groans your name repeatedly and lays his big hand on your stomach, keeping you in place again. The other hand he throws onto your clit, trying to find the right pressure until you scream in praise.

"I'm almost there. Fuck, hun. I'm so close." He ducks his head down, moving his hips blindingly fast.
"Say my name. I want you to shout for it, love."

"Niall!" You shout, feeling your climax approaching too. "You're so good- fuck- babe, harder!" He goes all the way, consistently pounding your sweet spot. "Come in me, Niall. Make me scream for it. Make your little slut scream. God- shit- ahh, you're so good, babe!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He shouts, spilling white-hot inside of you.

You follow right after him, screaming incoherent profanities as he thrusts sloppily, both of you riding out your highs. He pulls out, plopping next to you in a heated mess. He pulls you close to him without a word, kissing your forehead for a couple of seconds. You snuggle as close as possible, closing your eyes and breathing in his scent.

"You know you're not just some girl, right?" He croaks, stroking your hair. You nod, although you're not really sure you agree. You're just happy that he sees you that way.

You both end up falling asleep for a couple of hours, tangled in each others embrace. You and Niall wake up around 9pm, still in a messy, naked state. You cleaned yourselves up and he leaves, kissing you with glee and swearing to keep in contact.

~~~

The next morning you wake up, sore from the previous day of fun. You tie your hair up in a sloppy bun, groggily dragging yourself to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. From the other room, you can hear your phone beeping wildly and you wonder who wants to talk to you so early. When you retrieve it, you smile and see it's Niall.

"Goodmorning :) Go on twitter , theres a surprise!! xx" it reads.

You open your twitter app, holding your breath and preparing for a blowout of some sort. All of the Directioners you follow are freaking out all over your timeline, ranting about "Niall's New Mystery Girl." Jittery, you read into an article about their interview from that morning. It talked about how Niall had the initials written in pen across his wrist and how he was going to reveal who it was. When you look at a picture from the photo shoot, you can see that they're your initials in jet black and your eyes tear up at his great gesture.

You have over 70 new mentions on twitter. When you scroll down to the very first one, you start crying at its message. Niall attached your meet and greet picture to it, quoting your favorite One Direction song.

"@NiallOfficial: Its all that i can think about...yer all that i can think about xx"

You just can't believe your luck.