One Direction One Shots 1

Fratboy Niall 2 (Niall)

imagine going into the quiet room in the library and getting a text from frat boy Niall asking where you are so you tell him you’re studying in the library and he doesn’t reply so you go back to your books… ten minutes later you feel a guitar callused yet soft hand cover your mouth while the other reaches down and makes light circles on your inner thigh, and whispers in a thick Irish accent, “meet me behind the corner bookshelf in five minutes.”

Breathless, you look around, checking to see if anyone heard you. All you see is a kid sleeping, and some girl singing along to the music playing on her iPod and scrolling through tumblr.

You check your phone. 5 minutes are up.

You stand up to fix your hair, grabbing your books and shoving them into your bag as quickly as you can, knowing Niall gets angry when you keep him waiting.

You begin to go to the location, unbuttoning your shirt as you walk.

“You take for fuckin ever.” He says, looking at you like you’re all of a sudden unappealing, “you’re goin t have to make up for that.”

Before you can say anything, he rips open the rest of your shirt, making buttons fly everywhere.

Even though you loved that shirt, all you want him to do is get on with it and ravage you. He unbuttons your pants and shoves his hand in, moving over your underwear. He hears your ragged breathing.

“say the magic word,” he grunts as he continues to torture you.

“please…” you manage to squeak out the phrase but instead of doing what you asked, he shoves you to your knees and says, “you’re gonna have to work for it.”

Before you can prepare yourself, he’s heaved his pants and boxers to the floor and forced himself into your mouth.

You’re taking too to do the job so he starts thrusting himself faster and deeper into your mouth, pumping and pumping until you’re gagging.

He’s close when he decides to give you what you want and takes himself out of you, motioning for you to get up quick and be quiet.

You shoot up and he rips your underwear down along with your pants.

“what do you want” he looks at you as he presses up against you, his face flushed and his eyes bright.

You stay silent, knowing that if you don’t say anything he’ll get frustrated and forceful, so you simply look at him and bite your lip.

“fuckin hell” he whispers.

He pushes you to the ground and enters you roughly. You gasp, which makes him cover your mouth.

As both of you begin to reach climax, you look around for something, anything to grab, but there’s nothing other than a wall and a bookshelf. You know you can’t grab the bookshelf because when niall get’s rough, you could break tables so you grasp at nothing on the carpeted floor.

The energy builds inside you and you can tell Niall is close too, because he’s beginning to make noise.

You clap your hand over his lips as your toes curl in and you feel that ecstasy course through your veins over and over again, knowing he’s feeling the same way.

He rocks back and forth a couple more times, and then he gets up, putting his pants and tshirt back on while you lay on the floor, reveling in how amazing you feel.

He reaches down and helps you up. You get dressed gingerly as the adrenaline fades and you start to feel the rug burns on your back. You walk over to niall, adjusting his snapback. He pecks you on the lips and whispers in your ear, “we’re not even yet, love” and slanders out of the room.