harry

We leave the club at one in the morning, Niall's eyes shining brighter than the moonlight that surrounds us. And yes, he did eventually help me out to put a name to the face. He told me the story of how he was born with the name James, but immediately opted to being referred to by his middle name. Eventually, his parents took him to get it legally switched. Niall James Horan, instead of James Niall Horan. I think he made the right choice, changing his name. It suits him better, and I would like to immorally mutter the name Niall instead of James.

It's way too late for him to go home now. The fact that he's seventeen is enough to convince me to take him in for the night. It's something I would never do, being that my impending fame could prove to be an extremely credible threat to his safety. I just met him; and he doesn't know who I am.

This could prove to be a great thing for me; a fresh start maybe. Because it really is. Most people I associate myself with start off with the basic facts;

1. He's Harry Styles!

2. His hair is longer than my lifespan.

3. He has more Grammys than Taylor Swift (8 v 7).

4. He's quite the player.

Though some of those things may be true (especially the Grammy count), it's not what I want people to think of me the second they meet me. if I meet someone I want them to be into me for who I am, not for whatever they think or heard of me first hand. For example, I am not a player. Especially with women. I admire them, but not to the extent that I would actually initiate intercourse with them.

Niall giggles, snapping me out of my daze as I watch him spin around in continuous circles. He's extremely peppy, and I know it's just him being himself. He hasn't sipped a drop of alcohol other than the small drink of the martini originally meant for me.

Then again, he could have been drinking before.

"What?" I chuckle. The streets are silent, as if they're listening, waiting to hear our next words.

"Nothing I just...you're real cute." He says and I roll my eyes.

"You're delusional."

"That's an abstract concept you know."

"Okay," I tell him, gripping his shoulders lightly, "we need to get you home. Where do you live?"

"Close," he taps his chin, "but far."

He's absolutely drunk. I have a drunk seventeen year old next to me; in public. Oh my god. They told me in media training, that if I were to ever be in this situation, I should just simply walk away and let the situation deal itself out.

I can't do that, not this time. He's...seventeen.

"Let's go," I say, taking him to the bus stop, "we're going to try something new today."

I avoid public transportation for the obvious reasons, but it's one in the morning. Who could possibly recognize me at three in the morning? Plus, it's not like I have anything to lose. Security is going to be mad at me for not contacting them, and if I do get spotted, by chance, with a seventeen year old boy, who knows what will happen.

"Where are we going?" Niall whines, and for some reason, I can't help the smile that enraptures me.

"Oh the bus," I chuckle.

"Why?" He asks.

"We're going to go to my house for the night," I tell him, "which is a gift to you; I don't usually take people in."

HARRY'S HOUSE
2:10 AM

"So how many times have you been to Indonesia?"

"None...didn't I tell you that already?"

He giggles as we arrive at my heavily guarded front gate. We had successfully made it to where I live without a single glance. It seems as if a majority of people out on the town in the early morning are too drunk to care, or too tired to pay attention. During the trip, I was slowly trying to sober Niall up. I didn't want him drunk in my house, let alone in my house in general. No matter how much his youthful beauty captivates me, it just isn't doable. Not here and now, where everything seems to be approaching its peak.

I press in my 20 digit code before the gate opens with a loud creak. The walk to the entrance on foot was treacherous, and I want nothing more than to lay in my bed and sleep until the sun has been up for twelve hours. Niall stands at my side, his blue eyes widened to the size of saucers as he gets a clear view of my home.

It doesn't help that he has no clue who I am; he must wonder where I could gather all the money to afford this. The obvious move here is to tell Niall who I really am, and act accordingly. He'll be fine with it; I mean, everyone is, really. Because of all the fame...and money, and other things that don't matter.

"You have a nice house..." I hear him squeak from my right side. I mumble a quick thanks before leading him in quickly and shutting the gates. After the gates is a triple locked garage, and then the door.

"Why do you have so many precautions?" Niall asks, and I take note that it's a big word for someone intoxicated to be using. He must be sobering up as time passes by.

"I'm a private man," I respond. The statement has truth laced in it, and I take pride in that. No, I don't have to lie about everything. Just the important stuff that could potentially change his life for the worst. The last thing I want is for this blossoming flower to shrivel in the midst of contracts, pr stunts, and everything that is the foundation of why my life (the life I chose to live) sucks real bad sometimes.

It's too much pain for him to go through, and I refuse to sit back and potentially watch his go through the grueling system of being involved with me. But then again, why am I thinking about him in such a sense? It's only been one alcohol filled night.

"Why have this big house with no one to share it with?"

I think about countering him for a second, but go back on the idea, considering that the question didn't need to be answered. It was simply rhetorical, I tell myself, he must not mean it.

Thankfully, Niall drops the subject as I open the door for him to enter inside. The main foyer is lightly dimmed, just as I had left it before I left for the show. I watch as Niall's hands fold nervously as he looks around. It must be too big for him to handle mentally (which is an assumption; it didn't have to be that. He could simply be nervous).

"How about we uh, go upstairs?" I suggest, motioning to the staircase, "I can show you to the guest bedroom."

"Yeah," he replies with an awkwardly grateful smile, "yeah that would be nice."

Today, Niall has shown me that his personality is one like a slammer cocktail; invigorating, and a little naughty. But this side of him, the shy, tempest side, is somewhat new to me. I've only known him for a mere few hours, but I can't help the curiosity that overflows me. Where does he go to school? He's seventeen; he must be in his third year of high school at least. Why is he out this late at night drinking away in a nightclub? How did he get in the night club?

I'm only looking at the front cover of Niall's insanely engrossing novel. And maybe, this is the only time I've ever felt the urge to be potentially close to someone that isn't famous. It's hard to be close to people that aren't in your vicinity, your...group per say. Once you gain fame, there's no going back. People start seeing you for the wrong things, ultimately leading you to the wrong people. With this in mind, (and the fact that Niall has no idea who I am), I disregard the smokescreen formed during our first meeting. In a way, I just want to ignore it and live in a moment where someone wants to familiarize themselves with me purely for me, and not my money.

I open the door to the guest room, pushing it wide as Niall enters, taking a look for himself. I believe I've made my guest room quite appealing, with the bright fairy lights (personal touch) and the pale white walls and bed sheets. Yellow can be a calming color, but it's also extremely ugly, in my opinion. So I settled on white; white everything. White to tone out the darkness, and replace yellow.

"It's nice," Niall continues, "but..."

"But what?" I ask, my undivided attention focused completely on him. His eyes shine dimly as he looks up at me.

"It's a little too big," he says nervously, inching closer to me. I see his fingers hovering by his hips limply, as if he wants to move them towards my own body, "could you do the honor?"

"You mean, stay with you?" I ask, and he nods.

"Yes please."

"I..." Truthfully, I wasn't quite prepared for this. Yes, I want nothing more than to worship Niall's body in every which way possible, but then again, his age conflicts with my desires. I'm not sure when my moral compass will tell me to stop while I'm ahead.

"Yeah." I answer finally, praying I can trust myself around him. He smiles, taking off his jacket gratefully and dropping it on the floor.

"Thanks by the way," he says, "they tell me to stay away from strangers, but I couldn't help myself with you."

"Likewise," I agree, sitting down as I watch him strip of his clothes article by article in front of me. First comes the shirt, slipping off his slim body with ease. His nipples are erect, probably from the chilliness of the room (not that I care). His eyes stay trained on me purposely, sending chills down my spine.

The jeans come next, and watching his long fingers pricking at the button of his jeans is worth more than anything I could think of at the moment (which isn't a lot).

Once his pants drop, my vision narrows on the maroon panties that are left in the place of the rest of his clothes. How perfect; he cross-dresses under those tight little skinny jeans. Panties suit him well, and I can't help but line up the things I would give to see him in black lace. He's simply glowing at this point, and my moral clock is ticking faster than my heart is pounding. What an incredibly enticing boy I've managed to come across.

Thank god I decided to go drinking tonight.

"So," he speaks and snaps me out of my trance, "I just sleep in panties, is that okay?"

"That's alright," I shrug, knowing that within me, I'm much more than alright with him. If this continues past tonight, I may have to force him to wear panties; everywhere.

Niall is practically giving me a strip show at this point, and I'm all in. My throat runs dry as I watch his hands graze his pale skin with such a vast amount of innocence that outshines the fact that he may not be as innocent as I thought. He knows how to tug at my heartstrings; how to make me desire him more than ever. One needs experience in order to manipulate the heart.

"To bed then?" I ask him, and he nods, pulling of a corner of the bed-sheet and rolling under it. I follow after taking my clothes off and only remaining in my boxers.

"Hey so," Niall begins to talk as I shut the lamp off, "you told me that you're a private man?"

"I am," I respond quietly, finding it difficult to get comfortable, "why are you mentioning it?"

"I just..." he sighs, adjusting himself and shifting closer to my static body on the bed, "I feel like I know you from somewhere is all..."

"Oh god..." I mutter under my breath.

"Harry Styles? As in biggest music star in the world?"

"What linked it?"

"Walking past all your Grammys," he confesses, just as his hand pushes a deeper dent in the mattress, "you really do have more than Taylor, don't you?"

"Look," I begin, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I suppose that should have been the first step; telling you who I am. But when you said you didn't, I thought it was going to be a great start for a different type of relationship. A fresh one per say."

"It's okay," he assures me, making the endearing move to cross all the lines and plant his palms on my chest before pressing himself sinfully against me, "honestly, I didn't really know. I made the connection once I saw the awards. You see, the crowd your fans are affiliated with? Not my style; they could be bad motherfuckers, but they're all chasing after you instead. I just sit back and watch all their dreams crash and burn."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not your average seventeen year old boy," he explains, "I have the mind of a man your age."

"Really?" I encourage him, "or are you just telling me that so I'll fuck you?"

"Hmm..." he taps his chin, "only if..."

"Enticing," I respond, allowing my hand to graze down his back right to where the curve of his ass lays, "And while you say that, I wonder...you've never thought about having me here this way like the girls in school do? At all?" As long as he's allowing himself to let this go further, who should I be to say no?

(Actually, a responsible adult is what I would be. But I'm not ready to let him go that easily.)

Niall's teeth sink down on his bottom lip as he shakes his head, poking his ass out in reaction to the feeling of my hand on his chilled skin.

"But they'd always talk about how great it would be, getting fucked to heaven and back with your big..."

"Big what?" I demand a response, studying him as he smirks, keeping those teeth attached to his lip.

"You know what," he continues, tracing a single finger down to where I know he wants to go. And he most definitely finds his way there as his index finger dips into my boxers, curing against the waistband, "instead of me telling you, why don't you just show me?"

"Oh you're just asking for it, aren't you," I groan, gripping him harshly as I initiate the final push over the edge, crushing our lips together. He moans softly, obviously pleased with the decision I made. I attempt to pull him as close as I can as our lips mold together in this beautifully rushed mess. His hands reach up to grip my face as I roll over, letting him rest on top of my growing bulge as his lips send me into euphoria.

Our messy kisses become solid movements, our lips practically grinding up against each other as his hands roam in places I didn't even think could please me. His kiss sends volts of electricity through my veins and causes the stars in my eyes to dance.

I feel him grip the waistband of my boxers again, dragging them down my legs this time as he grinds down on my hard cock. It's beyond any feeling I've ever withstood, topping all sexual experiences I've ever had.

"Shit," I whisper hoarsely, gripping his plump ass tightly.

"Ah," Niall hisses, reaching down to take off the only article of clothing separating our naked bodies, "remember that thing you said? About being my daddy?"

I nod, looking up at him as lust completely overtakes him,

"I kind of liked it, Daddy."

I nod, letting this entire situation sink in as my aching hard cock rubs against his own hard on. This is hot; Niall, is hot.

"You wanna blow me?" I ask him (maybe I should have demanded him), my lips parted as I watch him peculiarly.

"Demand me," he whines, pressing down on me and emitting a low groan and a hip thrust from my lower region. So he does want me to demand him. Okay; I can do that. I sit up, reaching down to stroke myself as Niall sits himself in the middle of my legs. He looks practically irresistible above me, waiting for my command.

"Suck," I say sternly, holding myself firmly before him as he nods, wrapping his mouth around my thickness and sucking as deep as he can. He takes it really well for the first swing, gripping my hips as he goes down lower and lower with every single thrust he makes. I moan, reaching up to grip his lengthy blonde hair that's just sticking up and waiting to be grabbed.

"Slower," I warn him, wanting get the full feel of his warm mouth on my cock. He moves up and down slowly, using his hand for what he can't cover with his mouth. His eyes are squeezed shut and I can feel him moaning against me, making the experience ten times more enthralling.

"You wanna have some fun baby?" I ask Niall soothingly, pulling him off me softly and stroking his chin, my finger grazing his lips, where the remains of my precum are. He looks too beautiful for me to mentally contain, "Want me to finger that tight little asshole for you?"

He nods pleadingly, getting on all fours and leaving his pink hole on display just for me. I lick my lips, watching he bites his lip, obviously so antsy for me to do something. I might as well poke some fun at it.

"You said you've never seen me in this light? This light in which you want me Niall?"

"I--"

"Now; don't lie to me babe. That's the last thing you want to do."

So he nods, and I smirk, stroking myself lightly before taking all the attention off of myself and giving his a firm smack on the ass. A gasp escapes his lips and I grab his hips, stopping him from jolting away.

"Daddy wants you to sit here and take my spankings like the good little girl you are, understand?"

And when Niall nods, I know he loves this. He loves what we're doing, and at this point, I'm not sure who loves it more; me, or him.

"Ha--"

"Daddy." I happen to be fitting right into the role of dominance over the young seventeen year old, to my pleasure.

"Daddy, god I'm so horny for you now Daddy...I want your cock please, could you--"

"You'll be as patient as you need to be," I tell Niall sternly, almost cumming when he nods, looking back at me with those pleading blue eyes. I smack him again, watching the red mark form to my approval. A few more smacks later, and he's withering, holding onto the bedsheets as his dick leaks with precum.

"You like it when I punish you, huh?" I growl, leaning in and prodding my tongue into his asshole little by little. Small incoherent sounds leave his lips as I pleasure him little by little, inch by inch, not wanting to rush a single thing. Watching Niall squirm is most definitely worth it.

"How badly do you want me Niall?"

"So badly Daddy..." he moans.

"More than those girls at school want me?" I push on, "Do you think I'd ever want any of them when I have you right here, devastatingly horny and begging for me to pound into you with my big cock?"

"Yes Daddy yes please fuck me please!"

I lick a long stripe over his wet hole, spreading his cheeks as I push further, taking him to his peak of pleasure. Not too much to reach his climax, but enough to push him to his limit. I know I'm never going to forget this night, whether I want to or not. I move up, sticking my fingers in front of his mouth.

"Suck please."

And he does, moistening the fingers that will soon be pounding into his tight little asshole. It's so tight, I want to ask if he's virgin, but I know right now isn't the right time. If anything, it could change my judgement, and I don't want that.

"Fuck!"

The first two fingers prod in and his back arches in pleasure, gripping my hair as I find a way to stick my tongue inbetween the two fingers already penetrating him. It continues on like this, his moans getting louder and my fingers getting more and more tired as I get him more riled up than before.

"Please Daddy," I can sense that he's tearing up from the pleasure building up in his system, "fuck me please."

"Yeah," I say smoothly, picking him up and turning him so his back rests on the mattress, "yeah I can do that."

"Thank you," he grins, looking up at me and I smile, leaning down to kiss him feverishly as I fish through my desk drawer and look for the lube.

"How hard are you gonna fuck me?" he groans, reaching up to touch himself as I slick myself until my cock is practically covered in lube. (I still don't know if he's a virgin).

"So hard baby," I tell him, "so hard you're gonna have tears falling out of your eyes."

"Yes," he chuckles victoriously as I grip his hips, preparing to penetrate that little asshole I've been dreaming about with my rock hard length.

"You have the most irresistible legs," I tell him, attempting to distract him, and he sighs estatically.

"It's my main feature," he continues as I sink halfway in, amazed at Niall's ability to take my length. He can't be a virgin, there's no way he would be able to take it without a single wince. I wait 'till I'm balls deep, and look to him for the nod of approval I need to make this better for the both of us.

His head tips up and down and I begin to move my hips. It's sloppy at first, as I'm trying to adjust to the way his body reacts to the sex I'm providing him. He takes it all though, moaning every time I thrust in. His eyes are screwed shut as his hands claw as my shoulder blades. He looks so sexy, with sweat dripping down his face and body that came from the level of satisfaction he was currently experiencing. It also makes me feel good about myself; I'm good at making him feel great.

"Fuck Ha--Daddy," he whimpers as I reach down to touch him, multitasking as I thrust evenly now. The pro of having a bedhead is beginning to shine as I grip it, giving me more of an angle as I destroy Niall's pretty hole.

"You're so fucking pretty," I groan, nearing my release as I continue to thrust into Niall at an even pace. The moans and whimpers I'm eliciting from his pretty pink (made for blowjobs) lips make the moment much more worthwhile as he weakly warns me of his climax.

"Just wait one sec..." I groan, thrusting faster, "wait for Daddy..."

He grips my back tighter as I approach the peak instantly, telling Niall to come right before I do. His body is shaking as he comes all over the both of us, his breath coming out unevenly as he finishes out his climax. My body reacts normally when it does during a climax, but this time, the chills running up down my skin is unfamiliar.

It's new. Almost as new as Niall was when I met him all those hours ago.

Once we're both calmed down, the mood of the night has completely changed for the better as I look at my phone, coddling Niall in my arms as I see it's four thirty in the morning.

"Wow," he whispers, "that was beyond anything I expected tonight."

"Well," I chuckle lightly, resting my head on his shoulder as he leans back on me, "I know for sure that you're not a fan."

"What convinced you, hm?" he asks, curling back and steadying his breathing.

"Fans have this specific...style to them," I explain, "in terms of my fans, they're all different, but they have this aura to them. You lack that aura; it's just not your style. You're the outsider; and it's alluring."

"Then what is my style, Harry?" Niall asks, turning around and facing me as his fingers reach up to fiddle with my hair. What is Niall's style? I can see it from a single night; topless cars, bags of weed, definitely a daddy kink that gives him more beauty than an artist with a paint and paintbrush could ever give him.

Lips crafted for blowjobs that he only saves for those worthy, evenings in nightclubs, while listening to underground bands and being the only one dancing the way they want to. Being a reckless carefree spirit without a care in the world, seeing where things can go with the guessing theory. Lingerie, sex on balconies, glass table dancing in hotel rooms, and running with the wind. That, is what Niall's style is. And I know from one night filled with sex and drinks how?

Because when you're famous, you see everything and everyone for how they are. But, I don't want Niall to know that I can see all that from one night. I know I'd have more fun letting him show me just what his style is. So instead of telling him what I think it is, I respond with simplicity.

"That's the beauty of it; I don't know yet."

(yes, i renamed this early in the game. i'm insane, i know)
what do you think niall's style is?