“You’re doing that thing again…” His voice chimed low, a smirk growing mischievously on his lips, as he laid on top of the covers of your bed, clothed and waiting with his legs crossed at his ankles. Niall had a magazine in his hand, one of your old Elle issues to try and occupy himself, but his eyes snuck upwards every so often to watch you rush from one end of your bedroom to the other. One moment you were passing him, trying to shuffle into your black nylons, and the next you were coming back the other way with your hands in your hair and attempting to tie it up. He often had to watch you get ready as you shared hotel rooms when he traveled, but it was always a very exhausting event.
“What thing?” Cluelessly, you asked him as you finally took a seat on the edge of your bed, right by his toes, leaning over to help your feet into a pair of trustworthy black pumps.
“That thing where you say you’re going to change real quick and then take forever.” He laughed gaily, but it wasn’t Niall’s favorite of your quirks. He much preferred how you shimmied your shoulders when you were trying to think of a word on the tip of your tongue or how thin your eyes became when you were trying to parallel park.
“I know, I’m sorry,” You glanced over your shoulder at him, the magazine open in his hands, but his focus on the small piece of your exposed back in the cotton dress you had finally chosen to wear. “We’re not late though. We’ll make it.” It was Harry's birthday night out and you two had promised to pick up a couple of friends on the way to the bar.
“You look really nice though.” This was why Niall didn’t gripe about how much time you took into dolling yourself up. You walked away from him looking beautiful, but then emerged a goddess of oxygen deprivation. You really did look like you belonged in the magazine he was holding. Niall leaned forward over his waist and puckered out his pink lips, almost turning them into a duck pout, and you gladly turned over yourself to give him what he was looking for.
“Grab me a pair of earrings and I’m good to go.” Jumping right up off the bed, warbling for just a split second in your heels, you told him casually while walking to your vanity and picking up the perfume he gave you for Christmas, spraying one spritz on your clavicle and the other behind your right ear. “They’re in the drawer.”
Niall tossed the magazine to his side without a thought, bending over to pull open the single drawer of your wooden night stand, a large tin box inside where you kept all your jewellery. He smiled just thinking about the task you had given him, excited at the thought of picking out something for you. It made him feel significant to have his opinion valued by you. He eagerly pulled the silver tin right out of the drawer, his generous hands feeling the kaleidoscope pattern that was engraved over it before h popped it open and revealed a mini treasure chest to himself. His fingers pushed around different options as he peered in and mulled over what to choose. Niall hadn’t realized his strong opinions on women’s earrings until now. He glanced up at you, standing at the foot of the bed and playfully squeezing his sock covered toes, and then back into the drawer. It seemed wise to him to take into consideration what you had on, but you were dressed in all black. Anything could go with black. He scrunched his nose up at a pair of plain blue studs in one hand, letting them slide off his palm and back into the tin, before picking out a pair of playful cluster drop earrings, made up of bright green ovals and happy magenta circles.
“Here. I like these.” He sounded like he was a toddler as he reached out and dropped the two small items into your hand.Niall didn’t even check if you were alright with his selection. He was confident that he had chosen perfectly.
“Nice. Thank you.” You hummed and started to poke them through the microscopic holes in your ear lobes. It was strange to you that Niall wasn’t up off of your bed, rushing to throw his coat on and shuffle into his shoes. He looked cute, though, rummaging through your jewelry box and looking over all your different pieces like Ariel and her thingamabobs under the sea. “Alright, I’m ready to go.” You clapped your hands together in front of your chest for his attention, but Niall was staring into the box now, eyes stern as the rest of his face went blank. He was looking into the box as if he was hypnotized and you wondered what you could have possibly left inside of it to make him so distracted. “What?”
Niall didn’t respond with a single word. His thumb and index finger hooked around a thick copper band and he held up a large ring, a man’s, up at you with eyes that were too dead to be anything besides hurt. The oversized red stone in the middle taunting you as you stared at it, instantly knowing what Niall was thinking. The sides of the ring were thick and read ‘BASKETBALL’ and your high school graduation year on each side.
“It’s just a high school ring.” You looked over the shining ring in his hand and straight at him, appearing unfazed and praying an argument wouldn’t break out. Niall was sensitive, even if he tried to curb that truth as often as possible, but you knew the topic of your former boyfriend was a sore subject for the drummer.
“It’s not yours.” He shook it towards you as if you hadn’t looked at it properly before. It used to sit right above your line of cleavage around a copper chain, you had every crevice and indent of that ring indented in your mind. There was nothing about it now that would come as a surprise to you. “Unless you were the Hulk in high school.”
Without meaning to, you rolled your eyes. Back when you and Niall were playing a game of cat and mouse, acting like friends when you both so obviously wanted more, he saw a picture of you in high school with your then-boyfriend, and since then he only referred to him as The Hulk. While your ex wasn’t a green monster ten times the size of the average human, he was a greater size than Niall was especially his upper body build and height.
“Don’t roll your eyes.” Niall hissed, closing the box and setting it aside on the bed next to the discarded magazine. He never let go of the ring though, he was gripping it in a fist now, feeling it’s sides tight against his red palm. “You have your exboyfriend’s ring in a keepsake box. If anyone is going to roll their eyes here, it’s not you.”
It wasn’t easy, but you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Niall always took on the role of a grumpy father when he was cross with someone and while you generally didn’t mind, it was most annoying when you were on the receiving end. Sighing, you reached around and played with your slicked back ponytail, thinking of how to calm him down without telling him any lies. He was acting as if this was cheating while you knew that it was absolutely nothing serious.
“It’s not a keepsake box,” Correcting him, you began. “It’s just a tin I keep jewellery in. Dig around, you’ll probably find a Winnie the Pooh charm bracelet from when I was, like, six.” Secretly, you hoped it was in there. You had loved that bracelet to pieces as a little girl, wearing it until Tigger broke off along with a honey pot charm.
“That’s totally different.” He crossed his arms over his chest like a know-it-all, the ring still in his grip like he needed to take it to Mordor. “That’s something you keep for sentimental reasons.”
“That ring is sentimental too!” Holding out an arm, extending it to him as you defended your former boyfriend’s ring, you shot with a light chuckle. Niall wasn’t laughing though. His body loosened in surprise, hit by a bullet and still reverberating from the impact. His arms slowly unravelled from his body as you started to figure out how what you said could have offended him. He took the ring from his hand and slammed it down on the surface of your nightstand, shooting his body up as he threw his legs over the bed and stood. Finally, you learned something new about the ring because you hadn’t realized how loud it could sound or that it could shake a room like Niall had just forced it too. “It’s not like I keep it and think of him, but I’m human and I have memories!” You defended yourself, watching him turn a shade of red that you had never seen outside of a bottle of blush wine, as he walked towards the closed door of your bedroom. “Believe me, if I could erase some things, I would.” Everyone had a past and nobody’s was without its hiccups. You expected Niall of all people to understand that.
“I’d like to erase this conversation.” Without missing a beat, he muttered. A filmy residue flooded his mouth, reminding him of when a Tylenol pill dissolved on his tongue before he could swallow, and he tried to ignore the bitter flavor, but it was near impossible.
“You brought it up.” Sighing, you reminded him before picking up your crossbody bag from the vanity and heading over to him. It didn’t matter that you two were in the midst of an uncomfortable argument, tonight was still Harry’s birthday and you were going to go wish him the best year ever.
“Because I can’t have you if he still has you!” Niall's voice made the walls tremble just as the ring had when it collided with the side table. You were walking in great strides over to him and the door, but he startled you into a still position, shaking for just a second in your shoes. You stared at him stunned, his arms outstretched at his sides and eyes strict, punishing you with his stare.
There was a part of you that wanted to reach out and hug him tightly between your lotioned arms, let him into your fresh scent, and hold him until he remembered just how in love with him you were, but then there was that other side of your brain that despised being yelled at and scolded, that loathed the accusatory tone he was carelessly using. You didn’t want to ask because you didn’t want to know, but you were sure if you tore his own room apart that you would find something that was linked to one of his former girlfriends.
“Jesus Christ, Niall.” You rubbed at your temple with the back of your hand, collecting your thoughts with your eyes closed before lifting your head and opening up a stare on him that could compete with his aching frustration. “It’s a ring in a drawer, he doesn’t have me!” Your tongue was sharp, lashing out and tapping the roof of your mouth as you tried your best to be clear. “But you keep talking to me like I’m a child and neither will you.” He heard your warning loud and clear.
“Is 'dat a threat?” He checked, his head following you as you charged right by him, whipping your door open to stalk into the hardwood hall, your heels tip-tapping against the floor at metronome as you moved. “We’re not finished.” Still in your bedroom, he called at the back of you, your body looking somehow even better as you were going away from him. Niall flicked off the light of your bedroom and stated after you. “I’m not done, Emmilee.” He hissed and picked up his own pace.
You were rounding the corner of your flat. This was the first time either of you had made one another’s blood boil. While you were looking to leave and carry on with the fight, you no longer had any interest in going out to a loud bar and drinking with a crowd of people that you only half-knew. All you wanted to do now was put on something comfortable and sit on the couch with your best friend and bitch to her about how irritating Ashton was being. The only reason he wanted to go to the party still was to drink himself stupid and tell his best mates about the relationship grenade he had found in your special silver box.
“I said I’m not done.” Niall was right up against your back side, you could feel his chest, hot, against the small opening of your dress that revealed your lower spine. He hissed against the nape of your neck, forcing you against the front door and stopping your hand from digging into your purse for your keys. He wrapped his hands around your elbows, straightening out your arms at your sides, holding you the way he had the ring before. He dragged his one hand down your right arm, curling his fingers over yours and making you drop your small leather purse to the ground, filling the void with his hand. “You know I fucking hate him.” Niall growled, pressing himself closer to you and pressing your front side right up against the old wooden door.
“You don’t know him.” Whispering, you tried to turn your head to see him, but could only catch a glimpse of his sullen face from the corner of your eye. “I don’t even know him anymore.” It had been a year since you spoke to your high school sweetheart and that was just because you two ran into each other in the dairy section of the a grocery store.
“He had you first.” The words stung as he said them like he was hoarding hornets in his mouth. Niall slid his face against the side of yours, feeling your baby soft skin against his five o’clock shadow, smelling the perfume he had chosen just for you back in December. His eyes fluttered closed even though his nostrils were still flaring, livid when he pictured the large ring back in your bedroom. He should have slammed it harder, he thought, or even thrown it. He just wanted to break it into unrepairable pieces.
“It was ages ago, Niall.” Exasperated by the conversation, you exhaled as you leaned your head back and over his shoulder. “I was just a little girl.” It had been a high school thing. Two and a half great years experiencing firsts together, but you didn’t long for those days. You didn’t miss your ex. It had ended just as high school had, practically saying goodbye to him as you reached for your diploma.
Niall’s hands slowly and tightly worked their way back up your arms, the left far above the right, and as he reached your shoulders, he moved them down over your chest, feeling your hills and running down your valley with the tips of his fingers as he lowered his face more so and kissed at your neck, chewing with greed at your softest spot.
“And now you’re a woman?” Barely audibly, almost into your neck, he asked.
“A woman who knows what she wants.” Since your hands were freshly free, you reached behind yourself and slid one hand, loosely bent, over the taut bulge in Niall’s pants that you could feel when he ground against the curve of your backside.
“What about who?” He lifted up his head, eyes rolling back at your touch, and asked again.
Your fingers daintily released Ashton and you turned your body around, sandwiched securely between your front door and Niall’s fit body.
“You know my answer Ni.” You snarled, eyes rolling out of reflex.
Niall ’s stare went stern again and he licked both his lips as he shook his head slowly at you.
“You know I hate when you do that.” Pressing his forehead against yours, he reminded you before firmly pressing his lips onto yours, hands around your wrist to keep you pushed against the door that was thankfully locked.
Easily, you kissed him back with your strength, the tension you had built up from arguing with him desperate for release. His hands left yours, one pushing on your waist as the other reached around to your back, feeling for that little cut in your dress that gave him access to your skin that was as delicate as a porcelain doll.
To breathe, you pulled away from his lips, reaching up your hands until they were in his hair, pulling his head back and leaning in to abuse the crevice between his neck and shoulders with your mouth, dining on his flesh as you kissed it, marking your territory just as he was planning to cover you in his trademark. Niall’s hand on your back was tugging on your dress, but you reached one hand from his hair to guide his hand to the zipper. He released the fabric from your body, the straps instantly falling limp off your shoulders while his other fingers strolled from your waist and buried themselves under the skirt of your black dress, sliding up to feel your stomach without the pesky cotton material in the way. He loved your skin. He thought that it was proof you were a real life angel with the way it seemed to glow, always luminous even when you were in sweatpants and had your unwashed hair tied up in mess of a bun on top of your head.
“You even feel beautiful.” Niall whispered in your ear, his breath as warm as the sun over blue ocean water. He was losing his anger as he anxiously touched you, but his focus stayed on what had brought him to this point, the idea of you thinking of any guy that wasn’t him, missing a hand that used to hold you, yearning for a voice that he couldn’t make, and especially looking for satisfaction that didn’t come from his bones. Niall spread your legs and then removed his hands from you all together. He backed away from you, panting for a moment, as he fiddled with the clasp and zipper of his comfiest jeans, looking over you, still stunning, but clearly coming undone before his eyes. “Show me your pussy.” He breathed out, his exhale long as if he was releasing a cigarette drag.
Smirking at him, you rested only your shoulders against the door and pushed out your hips before rolling up the flimsy skirt of your dress and rolling your nylons down to your knees along with a lacy black thong, a last minute purchase from the other day. With both hands, you reached down at your damp mound and pulled your lips apart, rubbing at your surprise center with the pads of two of your fingers. Niall’s eyes were concentrated on your pink number, watching you and licking his lips, stroking himself like the barrel of a gun aimed right at your sweet bit.
There was a vein running along his shaft, throbbing, and your eyes couldn’t overlook how blue it was beating. Niall was rock hard in his own hands and you were breathing in and out deeply, starved for it’s attention.
“Are you going to make me say it?” Your voice was lost, but you managed to put enough words together as your head rolled from bare shoulder to bare shoulder. “This is yours.” You assured him, nodding, grabbing his vision from your wet slit for just a snapshot of a second. “I’m yours.” It sounded like a promise and it prompted Niall to move quickly.
He grounded his chest up against you, the friction of his flimsy white tee shirt against the falling part of your dress making you two almost stick together. He guided the tip of his zealous against your throbbing nub, massaging it with a smile lighting up his full face, as you kept your pussy open for him.
Niall was a little gentler this time. He grinned right at you and laid his lips slowly over yours before leading his cock into you, giving you one inch at an insatiable pace, going slow before taking your hips and pulling you over the rest of him. At the first feeling of how much you could take, Niall stopped trying to control himself. He didn’t tease, he didn’t rush, he just took you back and forth, your one arm around his neck with fingers twirling through his hair, pulling, and your other hand rubbing at your clit as he pumped into you like you were his curled up hand on a lonely Tuesday night.
“I’m going tur' fill you up,” He told you, breaking the kiss, and putting his face right up against yours, noses squished as you two locked intense stares. “I’m going to give you so much that nobody will ever be able to fuck you again without feeling me…” His teeth were tightly clenched as he fucked you right into the door, your hands falling from his and your body, sliding up above your head as you cried out. He had found your secret place and was typing in the code, making you shake in delight. “I’m cumming with you, baby.” His little boy smile was back as he went to kiss your neck again, right where he had before, shooting a load inside of you that felt like a warm wave as it rushed in.
Needless to say, you two were running very late now.

Notes

~~SYN ROZE~~
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