Frat Boy Niall Pt. 2: Niall Horan (Dirty) One Shot
This will make more sense if you read Part One first.
Something hard was digging into my shoulder. I lifted my head and rolled to the side, only to feel the vacuum of space behind me. Shit - this wasn’t my comfy full bed in the ΣΔT house, this was the narrow, uncomfortable cruise bunk. I grabbed the sheets to keep myself from falling, but instead grabbed something thick and warm.
A hand reached out and gripped my upper arm, pulling me back onto the bed.
“Saved ya, Janet,” a smug voice said.
Niall. I scowled, pulled my arm away, and sat up. I couldn’t tell if I was hung over, or just cranky from lack of sleep. A few disconnected memories of last night flowed through my head. Dancing at the club on the ship. Making out with someone–(Niall?) in that bathroom. Leaning over the bed, dizzy with alcohol and the ship’s motion while Niall fucked me from behind. I knew that part was him. He wouldn’t let me forget it. “You like the Niallator?” he’d grunted as he thrust into me harder and harder, my knees buckling while his fingers caressed my clit. He’d even named his cock. Asshole.