❤️ Anna Horan ❤️

“Slides?”

“Pictures.”

“How? They’re so tiny.”

“They’re your father’s. You should ask him about it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to explain how it works.”

And he was. From that day on he taught you everything he knew about cameras and photography. When you were in high school and showed clear interest that you’d like to do this professionally, he’d signed you up for classes to continue learning more.

Photography was how you and your dad bonded.

For you and your mom, concerts were a bonding experience. The two of you would go to a couple shows together each year.

And now, as a young adult, you’ve finally found a way to blend those two passions together.

You’re not exactly sure when the dream of being a concert photographer began. You figure you’d probably seen the professionals taking pictures at the shows you attended and kept that info in the back of your mind.

In high school you’d joined yearbook, photographing every event you could throughout each year. In college you’d joined the school paper, taking pictures of all the performances and sporting events you could attend. I’d always brought you joy to see your work in print.

You landed an internship your senior year, and while a lot of what you did was family portraits and posed team pictures, you occasionally got to work on more fun things. Including local concerts.

There were two venues that often hired photographers from your company. Normally the senior members on staff would be the ones to go, but one night you got lucky and were the only one available. It was a lot of trust they put into an intern, but your boss said you had proven yourself.

And so you got to officially photograph your first concert. Apparently you did such a good job that you started getting sent out to more and more shows. Small bands even asked for you specifically when they were in the area.

Slowly but surely you worked your way up, getting promotions and making connections with people in the industry.

Which is how you manage to land your true dream job.

One of the many concerts you had gone to with your mom growing up was One Direction. It was amazing, and magical, and life changing.

So now getting hired as an official photographer for Niall Horan’s next tour is also an amazing, and magical, and life changing opportunity.

Of course working for someone you’ve admired and been a fan of for half your life is pretty intimidating, but from the very first day he’s never been anything but kind to you.

Truly he’s such a warm and welcoming person, professional while never shying away from having some fun with his crew.

The problem with that? You immediately develop an intense and completely inappropriate crush on your boss. And he notices it right away.

You can’t help the way you act around him. You're often flustered, blushing and fumbling over your words. This typically happens when he’s reviewing the pictures you’ve taken of the show. He’s so supportive, so complimentary of your work.

“That’s amazing,” he often says. “Woah I love that one!” He’ll add pointing to a shot you’re particularly proud of.

Without fail, your face grows warm, you can’t hide your bashful smile, and Niall clearly picks up on your reaction to his praises. He always watches you closely, taking you in, just observing you. There’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite place, but it makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, the interest you have in him is reciprocated.

Especially because when you’re not shy and fumbling your words, you manage to be confident, conversing with him normally, sometimes even flirting a bit. And Niall flirts right back.

You expect that to be the end of it. Just some harmless flirting, bantering back and forth. You never thought anything more would happen.

Until one night. One night when Niall asks you to come to his hotel room after the show.

He says it’s to go over some of the shots you’ve taken and discuss specific angles he wants in the future. And for the most part, you believe him.

But there’s definitely that tiny voice in the back of your head thinking he may have some ulterior motive. It's not so much what he says, but the way he says it. The mischievous glint in his eye.

So you plan accordingly. A quick but thorough shower. A simple yet attractive outfit over an actual matching underwear and bra set.

You put a couple extra things in the inside pocket of your photo bag, just in case, and then you make your way over to his room.

Knocking on his door requires a burst of confidence, and a reminder that he’s the one that invited you. That he initiated whatever might happen next.

He greets you cheerfully, leading you to the table which is empty other than a couple glasses of water. At first it’s a normal meeting, you showing Niall some of the pictures you’ve taken at recent shows.

But as you talk about this he gets closer. It’s a natural shift, him sliding near you under the guise of getting a better look at what you’re showing. Soon, though, you realize he’s so close that you can see the specks of color on his eyes.

You feel his breath ghost across your neck.

You’re on such high alert that the sensation of just air on your sensitive skin causes you to stumble over your words. Your eyes blink closed automatically as your body floods with dopamine. Butterflies swirl in your belly, and you feel arousal dampen your underwear.

“This really is amazing work,” he says, making you shiver once more.

“You like hearing that, huh?” He adds, his voice low. “Like when I say you did a good job? When I praise you?”

In the moment you know he’s figured you out. That he knows the way you respond to praise. And then he says, “I’m sure there are some other ways you can be good for me.”

This is it. Niall is officially opening the door to do more with him. To go further. To go where you absolutely should not go, especially not with your boss.

But when he says, “Would you like to be my good girl?” You know that you’ve lost the internal battle. The answer is yes, one hundred percent yes. You’d be stupid to say no.

“I want that,” you reply, eyes finally meeting his gaze. His pupils are blown, nearly all the blue swallowed showing his clear arousal. You figure that yours are no different, as you can feel your need for him in every cell of your body.

“Head to the bedroom for me. Get comfortable. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You practically move on autopilot, quickly listening to the directions he’s given. When he comes in and sees this he comments, “Doing so well already.”

You’re seated against the headboard so he comes and sits beside you. Automatically you turn to face him, your breath catching at his proximity.

Slowly, carefully, Niall cups a hand on your cheek and moves closer until his lips brush against yours. You gasp at the feeling, but he pulls back. At first you think you’ve scared him off, that he’s come to his senses. But then you see his smirk, and it’s obvious that he’s teasing you, enjoying riling you up but not giving you what you want.

Finally he leans in again, this time connecting your mouths in a deep and all consuming kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to slide his tongue against your lips and ask for entry, which you’re more than willing to allow. Time ceases to exist as you get lost making out, hands just mindlessly exploring each other's bodies.

His lips leave yours and you whine at the loss, but he makes up for it by moving them to your neck and kissing there instead. Your teeth sink into your lip to keep in the needy sounds, but Niall notices and says, "Don't do that, I want to hear you, baby.”

Once again you do as you’re told, and when he hears the pleasured moan he coos, “Just like that, so perfect for me.”

Soon his hands travel under your shirt and you shiver at the feeling of him on your skin. “Can I take this off?” he asks and you quickly nod yes. Once he starts removing clothing he doesn’t stop, and the two of you bare yourselves piece by piece.

A giggle slips out when you realize that you’re now naked in bed with your equally naked boss, who happens to be a world famous singer. Thousands of girls would kill to be in your position, and yet you somehow managed to be the lucky one.

Niall simply smiles before laying you on your back and kissing down your body. And then you feel him place the most gentle kiss right over your clit, and it takes everything in you not to raise your hips and seek out more.

Thankfully he knows just what you need, and he begins to kiss, lick, and bite in ways that have your chest rising and falling with every gasping breath. He brings his hand up and teases your entrance, playing with you just a bit.

Again you want to get mad at him for teasing, but then he slips two fingers inside. He goes slow at first, opening you up until he can add a third. He thrusts them in and out, picking up the pace as his tongue continues to like and suck at your clit.

He doesn’t rush, but instead slowly builds you up until you crash over the edge, coming in his mouth and on his hand. As you catch your breath you glance down and see his eyes intensely focused on you. For a moment you’re self conscious, vulnerable about being so open, so seen.

But then he pulls away and stalks up the bed, crashing his lips to yours again. It doesn’t take long for you to sink back into the feeling of Niall, the way he rests over you, your bodies fully aligned.

You’re both lost in each other, not in any rush to move things along. It’s nice, just getting to make out, and you love that he’s not pressuring you into anything more just yet.

Eventually though you’re starting to get worked up again, and you know he must be feeling a bit on edge himself.

“Turn over,” you say. He looks confused for a moment but does as he’s told and lays in his back. “Condom?” You ask next and he points to his bag nearby. Digging though you find that and some lube, and you get him ready.

When he sees you straddle him he understands what you’re planning. And of course he simply smirks, happy that you seem eager to please him. You take him in your hand, holding him steady while you line yourself up and slide down his length.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs, boosting your ego enough for you to start a steady rhythm. His hands automatically move to your hips, not leading, just holding on. You change the angle just a bit, but clearly it’s working for both of you. He grips you tighter, and you know you’ll have some marks when this is done.

Without warning he flips the two of you again. After yet another bruising kiss he says, “Did so fucking good for me.”

And then he lets loose, pounding into you in a way that pushes you up the bed with each rough thrust. It burns in the most delicious way, and it doesn’t take long for him to bring you over the edge again. He keeps going, now chasing his own high.

You’ve heard him perform up on stage countless times now. You love Niall’s voice when he speaks and sings.

But when he comes? It’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. It’s needy, and whiny, guttural groans right against your neck before he starts nipping there again as an outlet for the last bit of overwhelming arousal that’s flooding his system.

And then the room grows calm, quiet. The bites turn to sweet kisses, Niall’s hand moving to stroke through your hair. He pulls out, getting rid of the condom and then adjusting so that you’re laying together with your head on his chest.

“That was fucking fantastic,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You did so good for me, just like I knew you would.”

As always the praise has you blushing, so you simply tuck your face into his neck to hide.

“Absolutely adorable you are, you know that? And hot. How can you be so cute and sexy at the same time?” He quips.

“I could ask you the same,” you joke back.

You lapse into comfortable silence. Here in Niall’s arms everything feels perfect. You know that the sunrise tomorrow morning will pop whatever little bubble the two of you are in right now, but that’s a problem for later.

For now, you relax into this blissful moment, enjoying the cuddles and compliments from Niall as you both drift off to sleep.

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