Niall One Shots

Dicking Down to Wifing Up

"Horan! Hurry the fuck up!" Harry yells through the door. "People are starting to show up!"

Niall looks in the mirror and adjusts his quiff a bit, "Coming!" He just had the blonde redone and was more than ready for their house party.

Harry snorts from the other side, "Sure thing. Just don't leave a mess." He jokes and Niall hears him go down the hall.

He rolls his eyes and leaves the room. You said you were going to be coming to the party and he was looking forward to that. He had been trying to convince you for the entire semester to attend a variety of the parties that his frat put on.

Niall is perched on top of Liam's shoulders, they are both are shot gunning beers, seeing who can be done first.

The Irishmen beat Liam, effortlessly. There was no contest. Niall is cheering from his friend's shoulders as he sees you from across the room, coming through the front door.

A smirk graces his features as he climbs off his shoulders. You looked just as beautiful as when he met you at the beginning of the semester.

But of course, he would never say that.

Niall was late to class (naturally) and hurried through the door.

"Devine, Josh?" The professor called out and Niall sighed, literally moments to spare.

Now to find a seat in an almost full class. His eyes scanned the rows of students, ignoring the eyes watching him.

There, in the middle row, in the middle section was a single chair between a guy from a different frat and one of the prettiest girls he's ever seen. You had a great set of tits too.

He pushed and squeezed his way through a lot of grumbly students, every one of them giving him a dirty look. He muttered 'sorry' until he got to you, he "accidentally" plopped down on your desk before sliding over to the empty seat.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pencil, Niall watched the slight bounce of your tits carefully. He bit on his lip and shifted his eyes to the front.

You leaned back and call out here when the professor called your name. Niall repeated your name in his head a couple times before glancing at you—not subtle at all, taking in you features.

You shift in your seat, side glancing at him. Obviously, you knew who this fake blonde was. Niall Horan, president of Sigma Chi, second largest fraternity on campus. But you mostly knew him for his persona, he would fuck anything that walked. You didn't want anything to do with him and you didn't want him between your legs. "Can I help you?" You asked quietly, not taking your eyes off the prof.

"I might need a class partner in this." He murmured, shifting in his seat to face you a bit more. "What do you think? Will you be my partner in this?" Niall chewed a bit on his lip as he watched you.

You sighed and shifted your gaze to meet his. You understood as to why girls (hell, even guys) swooned for this guy. Bright blue eyes, a sweet smile, and he just looked soft. But that smirk and the look in those beautiful eyes said he was anything but soft and caring. They looked hungry. "I don't think—"

"Y/N, Y/N, love, c'mon. Who else would I ask?" He batted his lashes as he spoke. "Please?" He pouted a bit.

His pink lips were so nice, they look so soft and kissable. Fucking hell. "Fine, Neil, is it?"

Niall frowned and every trace of trying to entice you was out the fucking door.

"Niall. My name is Niall Horan." He huffed a bit, taking your phone and putting his number in and sending himself a text.