#niall horan imagine

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Not Like Him

Prompt: Because of your past, you hate confrontation. One day, Niall comes home particularly grumpy.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: anxiety, past verbal abuse mention

A/N: hi all!!! continuing to try and post on here. please feel free to send any niall x reader prompts / ideas my way :)

You’re in the midst of putting a dish you just washed away when you hear the front door open, then suddenly slam shut. The pictures hanging on the wall rattle as you peer around the corner anxiously. The first thing you see is Niall bustling through the door. Normally, having Niall home would cause a surge of warmth and excitement to rush through you– but today, instantly, you recognize that something about his demeanor is off. 

He throws his flannel on the chair and with his back facing you, runs his hand through his hair. When he turns to you, there’s no warm smile or cheerful greeting. Instead, he takes a few steps then tosses his keys on the counter, letting them slide carelessly across the surface. He makes no effort to even acknowledge your existence. 

Instantly, a lump forms in your throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. You hate tension… Or any sort of confrontation, really. Your parent’s entire marriage was built off tension and confrontation– passive aggressive comments and slamming doors leading to screaming, which then led to shattered dishes or dented walls. 

Your father had a temper. And it didn't matter how well behaved or helpful or unseen you were. Something always managed to spark his anger. The nights he drank were worse, and as the years went on, the sober version of himself made less and less of an appearance. 

Although you didn't recognize it at the time, looking back, you knew that you spent the vast majority of your childhood living on edge– always waiting for the yelling or the screaming. You were afraid more often than not. And that wasn't something you could just unlearn when you were old enough to leave– no matter how far away you were.  

In fact, it took years of hard work to heal from the trauma you'd experienced. But for so long, it felt like no matter how much therapy you attended or self-help books you read, there was always a part of you that was just stuck. 

Until you met Niall. 

Niall was the missing piece. His presence alone was healing. He was calm and safe and consistent. He was patient and gentle and kind. And when you finally got up enough courage to tell him about your childhood, he listened carefully, his brows furrowed somberly. It was like your trauma caused him physical pain– that's how much he loved you– how much he felt with you. 

With Niall, you could safely work on communicating without screaming matches or slamming doors. It had taken time, but slowly, piece by piece, you started to rebuild, until you actually felt like you could trust someone again. 

And of course, even now, in the midst of whatever this unknown territory was, you trust him. But despite that, tension is radiating off from him. It’s almost palpable in the air– suffocating you. 

You have to say something– Niall will understand. 

“How was your day?” You ask nervously, already knowing the answer. 

Niall walks right past you to the fridge, pulling the door open and ignoring your question.  

You bite your lower lip, your anxiety settling like a rock in your stomach. This feeling felt too familiar… 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. He pulls out a beer, showing no sign that he even heard you. He cracks it open, the sound alone sending shivers down your spine as you’re instantly reminded of all the nights your father would drink five beers before even recognizing you were home. But Niall is not your dad, you remind yourself. Niall is gentle. Niall is kind. 

He takes a long swig before walking towards the stairs.

“Niall?” you say, worry evident in your tone. 

He doesn’t stop. 

Niall isn't like him. Niall cares about your feelings. Niall loves you.

You follow him a few steps, knowing that you can’t let him just go to bed this… angry? Upset? Whatever he is– 

“Niall, what’s going on–”

“Oh my God!” He bellows suddenly, waving his arms and spinning in his tracks to finally look at you. “Can you leave me alone for one goddamn second?!”

Before you can quiet down your brain or repeat all the ways Niall was different from your father, your body reacts as if they are one and the same. You flinch harshly from his sudden movements and loud tone, like your body remembered exactly how it felt to live in your house twenty years ago. And before you can help it, the glass cup in your hand falls to the floor, shattering around your feet. 

The noise makes you snap out of your trance. Looking down at the mess you made, your mouth goes dry. Your whole body has already begun shaking and you can feel the tears fighting their way to your eyes. 

“I’m sorry–” you whisper, choking back a sob. Then you brace for the screaming– the berating. Clumsy, stupid, idiot. 

Nervously, you kneel down, tucking your hair behind your ear while you try to pick up the broken glass. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s obvious Niall had a bad day. So why couldn’t you just leave him alone? The last thing he needs is you making and being a mess. 

“Sorry–“ you mutter, it’s so quiet though, you doubt he hears. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. You’re so anxious you don’t even grab a dustpan, you just start collecting pieces of shattered glass in your hand. Your vision quickly becomes blurry with tears as they streak down your cheeks. 

“Shit,” you vaguely hear, but you don’t stop trying to clean up. You’re frantic, grabbing whatever you can off the floor before he can get more upset about it. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Through your clouded vision, you can’t see what you’re collecting off the floor– all you know is that you have to keep cleaning it up.

“Baby, stop–”  

The voice is distant.

“I promise I’ll clean it up,” you say, hands shaking so violently, you wonder how no pieces have sliced open your skin yet. 

“Baby–” 

It’s just background noise. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” 

You vaguely see a figure kneel beside you and before you can wave him away, Niall reaches out– hand cupping yours before forcing open your fingers. As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you see him reach up to toss it on the counter before kneeling back down to be on your level. 

All it takes is one arm wrapping around your shoulders for you to break. Suddenly, you can’t hold back the sob that’s been sitting in your throat. The second it escapes from your lips, Niall pulls you into his chest tightly. 

“C’mere,” he exhales, chin resting on your head while he slides the both of you back against the cupboard. You let out a choked gasp and cling to him. 

His arm winds tightly around you, locking you in place. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.  

“I have to clean it up–” you cry.  

“Shh,” he soothes. He rocks you on the floor like that, his arms wrapped around you securely.  Your breathing is choppy as you shake against him. Niall grabs your bicep with his hand, holding you steady while his thumb rubs up and down your bare skin gently, trying to calm you down. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to feel like you can think again. Time stands still as you settle into his embrace. Niall’s embrace– you remind yourself. Not your father’s. Because your father wouldn’t embrace you after yelling like that. And he certainly wouldn’t embrace you after you broke a dish. 

After a while, your breathing gradually returns to normal again. Moments later, you feel him shift. “Did you cut yourself?” he asks carefully. 

He supports the majority of your weight, all but lifting you off the floor before scanning the length of you. 

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you did. 

Niall nods before reaching his hand out. “C’mon, let’s get away from the glass.”

You take it willingly, sighing as you feel the warmth from his palm spread through your hand. He guides you away from the pile of glass and towards the kitchen island. He helps you settle into one of the tall stools. 

“Hey,” you hear him whisper. But you’re still staring at the mess, so worried about cleaning it up. Until you feel firm, but careful hands cupping each side of your face– forcing your attention to shift towards him. “Hey,” he repeats. 

His calloused thumb trails along your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re leaning into his touch, craving his comfort. 

“Did you cut yourself?” he asks again, clearly not trusting your earlier response. 

To be fair– you’re not even sure that you trust your earlier response. By now, you feel like you’re actually back in your own body, and feel no pain. So you shake your head, this time more convincingly.  

As soon as you give the confirmation that you’re alright, Niall takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your shoulders, crashing his body against yours.  

“I’m so sorry,” he says, lips ghosting against the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

You nod into his shirt, pinching the fabric between your fingers and breathing in the smell of him. Niall is not your dad, you repeat. Niall apologizes. Niall loves you. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, you were slightly more calm. “I’m sorry I was so annoying– I’m sorry I broke the glass.”

You feel Niall shake his head above you. “No–” he says firmly. “I don’t give a shit about the glass. I had a shitty day,” he sighs. “A really shitty day. But that’s not your fault.”

“I should have just given you space.”

He shakes his head again, pulling back from his embrace to look at you earnestly. “No– We’re supposed to talk about things. I promised you I’d always talk to you about things, and I broke that today.”

He brushes a few loose strands of hair from your face, before wiping some stray tears stuck under your eyes. “I know how much yelling activates you– I know it sets you off, and I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re allowed to get annoyed,” you remind him. “And angry. You’re allowed to yell.” 

“That’s not how you and I communicate,” he says. “That’s not ever how I want to communicate, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time”

Squeezing him tighter, you nod against his chest. 

Because Niall is not your father and you believe him.

[ameliora-j]

CAN YOU PLEASE DO ROUGH DOM NIALL. i’m actually begging. maybe the reader acts up on purpose for attention because niall is busy with his new album and he has to put her in her place 🫢 btw i love ur work, your like my fav author on this app xx

pls ur gonna make me cry :’) thank u angel ♡

content: mean dom!niall, fem!reader, brat!reader, edging, cumplay, impact play (flogging, slapping), spitting, humiliation, degradation, tummy bulge, creampie, breeding kink, lots of pet names, dominant/submissive themes, no aftercare written but it happens!, THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG I’M SO SORRY BAE DODOWNEN, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI !

you’re grumpy—and you have been for the last week and a half. had niall been paying any attention to you at all, he’d have realized as such earlier. however, he is deep into the finalization stage of his new album. you’re proud of him—more than proud of him. niall turns your world that much is obvious. you praise any and everything he does. so of course you’re overjoyed he has a new album coming, and so proud of all his hard work.

you just can’t help but feel a little… jealous? neglected? you’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what you would call it in truth. it feels like a big dark cloud of grump is sitting above your head and you can’t do anything about it. niall is your boyfriend, the love of your life… but first and foremost he is your dominant. he keeps you in check, makes sure you’re always on track, and fucks you into oblivion every night.

the problem is that with his new album, he hadn’t fucked you in almost two weeks. to go from having sex every day—multiple times a day—to none at all for a whole two weeks was really taking a toll on you. it’s niall’s own fault, anyway—your sex drive wasn’t nearly this high before you’d met him. you don’t realize that your sexual frustration is building up until you’re already on the brink of an explosion. waking up in the morning with only one thing on your to-do list: be the biggest brat known to mankind.

unbeknownst to you, niall had taken the day off. he realized that he was neglecting you a bit—it’d been too long since he saw your pretty face when you were awake. you’re surprised to see niall still laying in bed beside you, sleeping peacefully when your eyes flutter open. you look to the bedside table and read the numbers on the alarm clock before pushing his shoulder.

niall wakes with a grunt, gasping a bit as he turns to look at you. “wha’s a’matter?” he mumbles tiredly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“you’re late” you mumble grumpily as you move to get out of bed. “wouldn’t wanna keep the love of your life waiting” you slightly grumble as you walk to the bathroom.

“love of my life? what’re you on about, pet? you’re right here” he chuckles softly, shaking his head as he sits up. “come back to bed, i took the day off. wanna cuddle.”

your heart flutters at the statement, nearly blowing the grump-cloud away, but it’s already hard-set on remaining there for the rest of the day. “i can’t i have things to do.” you say simply as you move to walk downstairs.

niall frowns a bit, clambering out of bed to follow you. “hey wait a second, where are you going?” he asks. you’re never out of bed this quick—even if you do have plans for the day. furthermore, no matter if you’re late, you’re always keen to lay down and have a cuddle with niall.

“since when does my life interest you?” you snark. niall’s jaw clenches. it’s barely been fifteen minutes and he’s already fed up with your attitude. he takes a breath to calm himself, wanting to get to the root of the issue before taking things too far.

“your life always interests me. you’re my girl, don’t be ridiculous” he shakes his head. you simply scoff, rolling your eyes and shoving past him and going to take a shower.

niall is quick to grab your wrist, dragging you back to his chest and squeezing your jaw. “listen here you little brat. i took the day off to spend quality time with you but i can just as easily spend it beating the brat out of you. so what will it be?” he growls lowly. you seal your fate when you suck in your cheeks, pursing your lips and spitting on him.

his eyes go dark and he chuckles lowly, slapping his palm against your cheek roughly. “i’m gonna make you regret that” he murmurs.

niall all but drags you back to the bedroom, shoving you roughly onto the bed. you whimper a bit, squirming in anticipation as he walks over to the closet, grabbing his duffel bag full of toys, ropes, and all of his ‘dom essentials.’ “what are you doing?” niall asks when he turns around—noting you hadn’t moved from where he put you.

“sitting” you hum, snark still lacing your tone. niall chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he walks over to you. he grabs you by your neck, forcing you to stand before tearing your nightgown from your body—practically tearing the flimsy fabric in two.

you squeak as niall spins you, forcing you down onto the bed before pulling your hips up so you were on your hands and knees. you hear rummaging before one of niall’s hands rubs over your ass. “pick a number between one and five.”

he’s angry—really angry—he usually always adds a pet name even if you’re in trouble. you bite your lip, thinking hard about what number to pick. you knew how niall’s spankings worked. you would pick a number, and if you got it right then that’s how many spanks you got. if you got it wrong, then he’d double whatever number he was thinking of. you squeeze your eyes shut tight, going with the safest option smack dab in the middle. “three?” you say hesitantly.

niall smirks, rubbing his hands over your ass. “oh, princess” he hums in a sickly sweet tone—and you nearly smile before realizing that you’re being mocked as his hand strikes your ass cheek. “it was five” he says lowly.

the number is the only warning that you get before niall winds up his flogger and slams it down on your ass. you practically scream into the comforter, tears already pricking the corners of your eyes. he doesn’t start off gentle or work his way up, and he gives you no respite as he continuously whips his flogger on different areas of your backside.

you make sure to call out numbers clear and concise—not wanting to start over with niall in this mood. by the time he’s finished with you, you’re a wet mess—in more ways than one. tears spilling down your cheeks, drool falling from your lips, and cunt sticky with arousal.

“okay okay okay” niall hums as he turns you around. “i know baby, i know. you’re okay… you’re fine” he coos tauntingly as he pulls you to his chest. “‘s okay, i’ll give y’what y’want… quit y’tears” he mumbles as he tugs his sweats down. he lays you back on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable on top of the pillows before kissing your head.

“oh there’s my girl” he smirks as he runs his cock through your sticky folds. you whine softly, arching towards him before he pushes your hips down. “stay still, y’brat” he grunts, slapping your cunt a few times. you shriek with each hit, your legs wiggling in an attempt to get away as you look at him tearily. “jus’ lay there and take my cock.” he mumbles as he slowly pushes into you.

the both of you moan as he bottoms out, you gripping niall’s shoulders as he holds your hips tightly. “fuckin shit babydoll” he groans, pressing down on the bulge of his cock your tummy. “forgot how goddamn tight you were” he gasps a bit, slowly pulling his cock out before thrusting back in.

niall is in heaven… he’s practically pussy drunk off one stroke alone. his head falls back and his eyes roll as he feels your gummy walls gripping him. you’re like a vice, almost as if you wouldn’t let go even if he begged you to. your pussy is sucking him in, leaking around him like a fountain of eternal youth and he’s so close to busting that he has to take a deep breath and distract himself. “this what you needed baby?” he mocks. “just a big cock to fill up your tight little cunt?” he hums.

“ni…” you whine softly and he simply chuckles before setting a pace. once he’s adjusted to your tightness and calmed himself down, he’s able to fuck you how he wants. he holds your hips down against the mattress setting a brutal and punishing pace in your cunt.

“that why you had an attitude? haven’t fucked you properly lately?” he laughs at you. actually laughs at you, and you can’t even bring yourself to care. “you’re so pathetic” he mumbles, spanking your clit. “all it takes is some dick n you’re all smiles again.”

“yeah daddy” you moan in agreement, nodding dumbly as your eyes fluttered closed. you barely even register the words niall is saying to you—all you know is that they’re mocking and unkind. but, this is all you wanted—what you’d been dreaming of for so long so you had not a care in the world. not a thought bouncing around your skull other than more more more.

more love. more affection. more close. more cock. more niall. he engulfed you, not just due to his much larger stature. he had you pinned between the bed, your bodies so close that you could feel the beads of sweat dripping off of his forehead and onto you. he was everywhere—on top of you, inside of you, touching you, his scent engulfing your nostrils as you lay on his pillow.

your head was swimming in a pool of niall and you were content to drown in it until niall forces your leg up over his shoulder. he reangles his hips and slams his cock back directly into your gspot. “daddy!” you shriek out loudly, your back arching high off the bed.

“yeah baby, daddy’s here” he mumbles, reaching to rub your clit. “daddy’s right here baby. jus’ lay pretty and take my cock, yeah?” he flashes a bright smile your way, winking at you—his hips never breaking rhythm as he punishes your cunt with his cock.

you can barely choke out a response your cunt pulsing around him as your orgasm dangles so close, yet so far away. “are you gonna cum baby? i can feel you squeezing me” he hums, fucking you faster. “do you want to cum princess?” he mocks.

“yeah! yeah, yeah, yeah!” you chant, nodding rapidly as your hips begin stuttering against his. “oh fuck yeah!” you whine.

“awh… ‘s too bad i didn’t say you could then, isn’t it?” he hums, slapping your clit once more and laughing meanly. you whine in frustration, tears wetting your lashes as you force your orgasm back. “jus hold it baby, you can do it” he teases, but begins rubbing your clit in small, deliberate circles. “right? for daddy?” he smirks.

you gasp, nodding dumbly as your eyes roll. “f-f’daddy” you nod, your legs beginning to shake. you feel niall’s cock give a twitch at that, his hips stuttering a few times before he finds his pace once more.

“daddy’s gonna cum baby” niall moans in your ear, beginning to nip and suck the skin of your neck. “gonna fill this tight cunt… give you m’babies you want that?” he smirks.

“yeah daddy… yeah gimme your babies please” you whine, beginning to rock your hips in time with his.

“then cum with me, princess” he whispers, squeezing your throat just as your orgasm starts. you moan loudly, unable to stop the spasming of your body as you cream around niall’s cock. you distantly register his slew of swears through loud moans as you feel his seed painting your walls. you moan softly as he pulls you into a hot and heavy kiss—filled with love and passion.

niall pulls away breathlessly, smiling down at you in adoration as he gently pushes your hair from your face. “is my good girl back yet?” he hums softly, gently peppering kisses over your face.

the airy giggle you let out is enough to let niall know he’d fucked you nine ways from sunday and you were now deeply submerged in a submissive headspace. if that wasn’t enough for him, then your soft: “yeah daddy” as you nose against his neck seals the deal for him.

he hums a bit in relief—pride maybe?—before kissing your neck again. “good… you keen for a cuddle now?” he smirks softly at you.

[justmeinatree]

Let Passion Get Too Much

Summary : niall x louis x reader threesome. with a sprinkle of feelings.

Series TW : it's a smut fic and it's full of filth !! each chapter will have it's appropriate warnings.

01. Let Passion Get Too Much

02. Together, We're The Greatest

03. Just Wanna Stay In The Moment

04. How Good We Have It Though

-Extra : Saturdays Take The Pain Away

05. Woke Up Still Dreaming

06. ‘Cause I Want You Bad

-Extra : Put A Little Love On Me

07. Touch Is Made Of Something

08. Get It Out Of My System

09. We Still Dance

10. Everything I Waited For

-Extra : Tell Each Other What We Dream About

11. When I’m Alone With You

12.

......

Masterlist

[harrywavycurly]

Texting Boyfriend Niall Horan Part 9: Dates

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language

Tag List: @blckburd @fanboysfangirl

Side Note: I know some of y’all don’t like how snippy these two are with each other but just know these two are sickeningly in love, they just talk a lot of shit to each other(out of love lol)

A/N: Niall thinks he takes you on dates all the time, but you just want him to admit he’s a little afraid of you. Enjoy✨

[amorchai]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐅.

niall horan x girlfriend!reader.

my masterlist . my taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[fakesocialmediaa]

Y/n L/n ✓

Liked by Zendaya and 1,988,575 others

Itsmey/n meet my boyfriend 🥰 @ louist91

Louis Tomlinson ✓

Liked by Niall Horan and 3,160,045 others

Louist91 beautiful girl @ itsmey/n

Y/n L/n ✓

Liked by Louis Tomlinson and 1,321,582 others

Itsmey/n life lately with my handsome guy you make me smile constantly and it’s one of the best feelings ever you’re my happy place 😍❤��� @ louist91

Louis Tomlinson ✓

Liked by Y/n L/n and 2,857,323 others

Louist91 angel girl @ itsmey/n

Y/n L/n ✓

Liked by Niall Horan and 1,900,000 others

Itsmey/n always the best time with you ❤️ @ louist91

•

•

Request: Can you do a Louis Tomlinson imagine where y/n and Louis announce they are dating

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Worth Fighting For

Prompt: The distance while he's on tour is difficult, you and Niall try to make it work.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi all!! So excited to be writing again. Please enjoy this slightly angsty, short fic. And please feel free to send any / all Niall requests my way :)

Niall’s contact photo pops up on your phone. The ringer interrupts the song you were playing through your car speakers, but before you even slide to answer, you already know the sound of his voice is going to be way better than whatever poppy tune had been on.  

“Hey babe,” you smile widely, trying to balance your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drive home from work. The fact that you would be seeing Niall tonight has been the only thing keeping you smiling throughout the day. Not even the heavy traffic can interfere with your good mood.  

Since you’ve been together, you’ve dealt with Niall spending long hours at the studio– and occasionally taking long weekend trips to Ireland or New York. But this tour was so much more difficult than any of that. 

When Niall left for his latest tour, you both were dedicated to making things work. You planned FaceTimes and phone calls and flew in to see him whenever you could. However, the last few months had been harder than you could have ever anticipated, and the distance had definitely taken a toll on your relationship. 

But right now, none of that mattered, because Niall would be home tonight.  

“Hey there,” Niall says back. You can hear chatter in the background and briefly wonder if he’s landed yet.  

“Are you almost home?” You ask, hopeful.

There’s a brief pause, then Niall sighs. “That’s actually what I was calling about—“

“Oh no,” you interrupt. “Was the flight delayed?”

“No…” he clears his throat, “I’m actually still in New York.”

The moment he says the words, your coffee canister slips from your hands, spilling over your lap and car. The heat immediately seeps through your skirt. You’re lucky you don’t crash as you try to wipe it up with the napkins stuffed in your cup holder.  

“Shit,” you gasp, your thighs burning from the hot beverage. “Shit, shit, shit—“  

“Baby?” You hear his worried voice through the line. 

You flip your blinker on and pull over on the side of the road. You wipe up the remainder of the coffee, ignoring Niall asking if everything was okay on the other end of the line.  

Once your legs no longer feel like they’re on fire, you pick your phone back up, and already on the verge of tears resume your conversation.

“Are you serious?” You ask. “I thought you had three nights off.”

“I know– I do, but we got the opportunity to play on Fallon, my agent booked it–“ 

You can tell he’s trying to dodge a fight, which you’ve been doing a lot of lately. Last week you were mad when he canceled your FaceTime date to go out with bandmates instead. The week before that, he was frustrated that you declined his offer to fly you out to Denver with less than a day's notice.

Seeing each other today has been what you were both holding onto. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Why do you have to play Fallon, Niall? It’s not like you’re desperate to grow your image–”

“I know, but it’s a good opportunity to expand to other listeners–”

You sigh, and without raising your voice say,  “I just… We’ve had these dinner plans for so long— I mean my parents have been talking about this for weeks.“

“I know, I know, I know—“ he says frantically, “I’m so sorry, believe me, I’d much rather be there than here… this place is nuts.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and close your eyes, listening to the sound of traffic rushing by your parked vehicle.  

“Okay,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained all of a sudden. “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

“I know, tell everyone I say I’m sorry for not being there.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agree.  

“So we’ll just talk later then?” He asks, the noise in the background getting louder.  

“Okay,” you say before hanging up. 

You can’t help but notice that the “I love you’s” were skipped.  

You drive the rest of the way home with your fingers tightly clutching the steering wheel. Your knuckles are white by the time you pull into the driveway. You drag your bag and coffee-stained self into the house to change and get ready for dinner with your family.  

You try convincing yourself that the night will be fun, regardless of the fact that Niall bailed.  But the moment you sit around the table at the restaurant and count that you are in fact the ninth wheel of the family, you know things are doomed. Plus you can’t shake the achy feeling inside your chest that makes you fear for your relationship with Niall. You’d been holding onto this weekend together with everything you had. It’s kept you grounded, and reminded you that this distance between you and Niall won’t last forever– that this tour will eventually end. 

Except now, you have nothing to hold on to.  

“Where’s Niall?” Your mother immediately asked. Of course she does– because your family loves Niall. 

Without even thinking, you lie, “His flight got delayed. Bad weather. Tornadoes, I think—“  you’re not sure why you don’t tell the truth. Denial, maybe. Embarrassment that his job would always come before you.

“Bad weather?” Your brother asks, “Where is he?”

“New York,“ you say quickly. 

Your brother pulls out his phone. After a moment his brows furrow. “Huh, weird. The weather app says it’s sunny and clear there.”

Instantly you feel your face turning red. “Yeah… weird,” you say. 

Your brother opens his mouth– probably to ask more questions, but his girlfriend elbows him, indicating for him to shut his mouth. You give her a soft smile in appreciation.

You stay quiet for the majority of the meal, and you don’t feel much like eating. You try to listen to your dad talk about golf, but all you can focus on is how Niall might chime into the conversation. You try to listen to your older brother when he complains about his meal, but all you can imagine is how Niall would nudge your leg and offer you a sly smile, knowing how much that annoyed you. 

You can’t be present because all you can do is think about how much you miss him– you miss his laugh, and the smell of his aftershave. You miss how warm hands always are, and how they’re always touching you– every chance he can get. You miss the way he can always lighten the mood, and how safe you feel just knowing he’s around. You miss him with everything inside of you– and his absence tonight only makes you miss him more. 

All-in-all, you’re relieved when everyone is ready to head home.  

“Hey,” your brother’s girlfriend catches up to you before you can head to your car.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Is everything okay? I just— I wanted to make sure, because you do know New York doesn’t really have tornados, right?”

You nod and let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I know. And Niall’s flight never got delayed,” you take a deep breath, “I guess that just sounded better than the fact that he didn’t even get on his flight. Got caught up at work,” you explain.

She sighs empathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just—“ you feel the tears starting to fill your eyes and you wipe them away, embarrassed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh no,” she says empathetically.

“The distance is just, really, really hard. Way harder than I ever thought—“ Even you can tell how choked up your voice sounds. “And I just don’t see it ending anytime soon. I mean, sure, this tour will end. But he loves his job, so I know there will just be another one. And another. And can’t ask him to give that up. But I can’t compete with it. I just don’t know if I can do it—”

“Maybe you should talk to him about this,” she suggests, as she soothingly rubs your shoulder. “Tell him how much it’s bothering you. Be honest.”

You nod. “Yeah you’re probably right.” You wipe your runny nose on your sleeve.  

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, thanking her and hugging her goodbye. She’s right. You do need to talk to Niall. But that’s a conversation you wish you could just keep on the back burner, ignoring until everything ignited. You dreaded it the whole way home.  

When you did finally arrive home, you puttered around the house– put the dishes away, washed your face, got into your pajamas, all as an effort to stall. Finally, you curled up on the couch. With no more excuses to delay the inevitable, you pulled out your phone and clicked on Niall’s contact. You hated this– everything about it. You hated that you hated it– hated that you were dreading calling your favorite person in the entire world… the only person who made you feel whole. 

The phone rang three times before Niall answered. “Hey baby,” he said cheerfully. “How’re you?”

“Okay,” you said quietly. “How was Fallon?” 

“Not bad– that guy from the TV show you like… the one on HBO? God, I can’t remember the name of it now. But he was there. Made me think of you. The crowd was fun– a few people actually knew the words. How was dinner?” He asks.  

“It was fine—“ you lie, not really wanting to fake small talk. “Everyone missed you.”

“Yeah, I wish I could’ve been there.”

You clear your throat as you anxiously pick at the skin around your thumb.  

“Listen, Niall. We need to talk—“

“Babe,” he protests, like he knows where this is going. “I already apologized for not being there— I wanted to, but I couldn’t say no after they booked the gig–”

You don’t want another fight. You’re too tired, too drained, too sad to fight. You love Niall– so much so that you wanted him around all the time– needed him. And you know Niall loves you too. But Niall also loves music, and touring. One was always going to interfere with the other, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. And suddenly, the realization that this just isn’t going to work hits you like a ton of bricks.

“I know…” you say as non-confrontational as possible, “I know it’s your job, I understand that, but I— I need you here, Niall. And maybe that’s selfish of me, or whatever, but it’s true. I need you here. And I don’t know if I can do this distance thing, I thought I could, but I don’t think I can. It’s… Honestly, it’s killing me.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Niall asks. “I mean, what do you want me to do? Quit? Do you want me to quit the tour?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of what’s about to happen.  

“No, I don’t want that,” you say, your voice becoming thick with tears. You could never take performing away from Niall– you wouldn’t be the thing that came between him and his passion. “I hate that this is through the phone, but I don’t think we should do this anymore. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

A long, heavy silence settles over the air. It sends waves of blood pumping to your ears. It’s deafening. 

You begin wondering if you should provide more of an explanation, but then Niall speaks. 

“Baby—“ he pleads, his voice suddenly full of desperation. “Please, I know you’re mad about tonight but I can fix this—“

“I’m not mad,” you tell him honestly, pushing the emotion in your voice down and trying to muscle through. “I understand that you couldn’t say no. I know you wanted to be here but couldn’t. But I come second to your job, Niall. And I always will. And that’s not your fault. But it’s not my fault either. And I– I just think that I need more than that.”

He’s stammering incoherently on the other end, and you imagine what his face looks like right now. Is he crying? Are his eyebrows all scrunched up?

He tries protesting again, but you can’t think about anything other than getting off the phone.  

“I’m really sorry this isn’t in person, you deserve that. But I just can’t keep doing this,” you explain. “When you’re back in LA, shoot me a text and I can get your stuff together.”

“Baby–” he pleads. 

But you cut him off. “Goodbye,” you whisper, hitting the end button before he can convince you to change your mind. As soon as the line goes dead, you break out into uncontrollable sobs.  The weight on your shoulders that you thought would be lifted only felt heavier as you let yourself fall back against the cushions of the couch you bought together.

Your chest aches. Desperately, you clutch your arm around yourself, trying to hold everything together. 

It hurts like fucking hell. 

It’s the kind of pain you know will leave lasting scars– the kind you know you’ll carry with you forever. And the only person you’d ever want to call to help you through it is the one you just broke up with. 

Broke up. 

You and Niall broke up. 

You cry harder. 

You cry and cry and cry– until there’s nothing left inside of you, until you’re pretty sure if you cried anymore, you’d need an IV to replace all the fluids. You cry until finally, you drift off into an uneasy sleep, curled up on the couch with Netflix playing on the TV, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark living room. 

The clock below the TV reads 7 am when you wake to the sound of the front door opening.  

Your first instinct is to scream, but you catch a glimpse of the familiar, dark haired man crossing the room before that can happen.

“Niall?” You say groggily, rubbing your tired eyes. “What are you doing?” You feel like you might still be dreaming.

“I know you probably don’t want me here,” he says, he’s out of breath, panting, even– like he ran across the country overnight to be here. That’s when it hits you that Niall is really here– not across the country in New York, but standing in your shared living room in LA. 

“Just hear me out—” He begs. When you don’t protest, he continues. “I love my job,” he states. “Playing music has always been my dream, and then that dream came true. I love touring– I love performing.I love being able travel around so much—“

You let your eyes wander to the floor, wondering where this all is going.

“But none of that compares to how much I love you,” he says, his shoulders finally deflating.  “And I’ll quit in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Please, please don’t be mad– I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, I swear.”

It had been so long since Niall had told you he loved you, that you feared it might no longer be true. But as soon as he says the words with such honesty and passion, your face scrunches up and the tears start to fall, because you immediately believe him. For a moment, you forget that you’d practically broken up with him over the phone.

All you care about is that he’s here. Niall is here, standing in front of you in real life for the first time in so long. As soon as he sees your face crumple, he’s crossing the room in two quick strides. Before you can protest, he’s kneeling in front of you on the couch. 

Your knees– you think. But then one of Niall’s hands is cradling your cheek softly while the other rests on your thigh, and all you can think about is how grateful you are that he’s home. 

“I’m not mad, I just… I– I miss you–” you sob before leaning forward, arms winding around his neck while you crash into him. “I miss you so much, all the time.” 

His arms wind around you tightly. He smells so familiar, and when he tightens his grip around you, you immediately feel safe and secure and whole again– the way only Niall can make you feel.   

You’re not sure how long you stay like that. But you’re afraid that the minute you let go, things will fall apart again.  

“I miss you too,” he whispers, hand coming up to stroke through your hair. “God, I missed you so much.”

You lean into his touch, try to memorize the feel of it. Then, you sigh into his neck. “I could never ask you to quit your job. You love your job more than anything. You’d be so unhappy and I’d hate myself for making you unhappy.”

Niall pulls you away from himself– holding you out in front of him. “You come before my job, okay? It’s not even close. If I quit music, I’d miss it. Of course I would. But I can write songs here– play my guitar here. Eventually, it’d feel okay. But if I lost you–” Niall shakes his head, like the thought alone is too unbearable. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to be happy again. You come first, okay? Always.” 

You give Niall the best attempt at a smile that you can come up with, enough to show him that you appreciate his gesture. It’s nice actually hearing how much Niall cares for you. He smiles back, it’s weak and doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s a smile all the same. And it’s Niall’s. 

But then it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a slight frown before he says, “What if you came with me?”

Taken aback, you immediately shake your head. “What? On tour?”

He nods, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Yeah, why not?”  

You open your mouth, presumably to list the reasons why that would be such a bad idea. But your mind is blank. 

“You can bring your laptop– work from the bus, or hotel or whatever. We could travel around, see things. Just be together.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’d get sick of me–”

“Are you kidding? I’m sick of being away from you.”

“Niall– there’s no way. I have work– what about the apartment?”

“It’s an apartment, not a dog. It doesn’t need food or water. Plus, I won’t be touring all the time. Just for a few more months. We’d get through it, then figure out what to do next. But we’d be together.”

The more he talked, the more you realize that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Like he said, it’s only a few months. Maybe it really could work. 

And in that moment, on top of admiration and love and endearment, you feel hopeful– hopeful for the first time in a long time. Because even though things between you and Niall are far from perfect, you love him and he loves you. And that’s worth fighting for.  

[justmeinatree]

please please please (NO PRESSURE BUT) (IM BEGGING YA)

something extremely smutty where like niall is working out: (literally need nothing else completely go ham its up to you but just like LOOK:)

the little jerk as he lifts up yk what im talking aboutt lets not pretend we're not *respectfully* looking.

as if i could say no to this 😅 it’s not the smuttiest thing, but if we’re open to a part 2, there’s a lot of room to play 😏

Word Count : 1.3k

it was the breathy grunts that first got your attention. 

you’d never cared much for niall’s workouts, always preferring to have the quiet time, enjoying a cuppa, maybe a book or tv show. but as you were just getting cozy with your tea, pulling the blanket over your legs, you could hear him from down the hall.

it piqued your interest, the sounds he was making having reached your ears, and for some reason, shooting down to your centre, leaving a little tingle of interest.

and for that same reason, you were now leaving your warmth and comfort, flinging the blanket back over the arm of the couch, trudging down the hall. 

once you pop head around the doorframe though, eyes coming into contact with your boyfriend, the tingle of interest in your cunt quickly turned to a dribble of excitement.

because fuck, was this the scene you’d been missing out on all these years ? you’ll have to remember to scold yourself for that one later, but for now, your brain was short wiring. niall was currently laying on his exercise mat, legs bent up at the knees, slightly spread, his arms straight up above his head, doing some sit ups with an exercise ball in his hands. and, since the universe wanted to punish you even more, with every flex of his abs, his hips would thrust up just a bit with the force of the movement. 

he was glistening, a sheen of sweat all over his skin, torso bare for your eyes to ogle. and when did your drip of excitement turn into a full fledged puddle of arousal ? how long had you been watching ? why are you quite literally feeling yourself leaking down your inner thighs ? 

it’s once he lays back down, taking a moment to breathe between sets, that you make your presence known. you weren’t exactly trying to, but a small whimper managed to escape your throat without permission. but really, his entire body was stretched out, muscles flexed, and if you look really closely, you can see the outline of his cock through his shorts. you really can’t be blamed.

niall’s eyes flick over to the door, noticing you, quirking his eyebrow, “what is it, love ?”

you bite your lip, heat rising on your cheeks at the prospect of being caught. however, niall was your boyfriend, had been for a long time, and moments like this don’t much embarrass you anymore, “d’you always look this good while you workout ?”

a loud breathy chuckle erupts from niall, echoing through the room, “gonna start joining me, sweet girl ?”

you squint at him, tilting your head to the side, looking at him with a playfully untrusting look, “was this your plan all along ?”

and so maybe he wanted to see if being a little louder than usual, a little more grunty than usual, would make you come over. and maybe he chose to forego his shirt, and maybe he spread his legs a tiny bit more than usual, in an effort to keep you around. “does it really matter now ?” he smiles innocently, “can see how wet your thighs are getting.”

“i hope you plan on doing something about that,” you smirk, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics.

“can’t do anything from way over there,” he hums, nodding his head in a come hither motion, “c’m’ere.”

as you finally step into the room, waltzing over to niall, he quickly reaches out for your ankles, his sheer strength taking over your moment of weakness, making you stop with your feet spread on either side of his head, eyes locked straight up between your thighs.

it was still early enough in the day, you hadn’t changed from your sleep shorts, tiny piece of fabric without any panties, something niall typically likes to tease you about, “why even wear anything if you’re gonna put those on,” he always drones on before bed.

but for now, he’s not complaining a bit, a fairly good view of your sopping cunt, peaking through the drenched fabric, arousal coating your inner thighs, “s’a good thing i’m parched,” he groans, hands gliding up your calves, stopping behind your knee, abruptly giving a tug, making your legs buckle. you squeak loudly, echoing through the room, as you were caught off guard, knees colliding with the mat underneath niall.

with your cunt sitting right above his face, niall groans, feeling the hot hot heat radiating off of you, “christ, and i thought i was warm,” he mumbles, his tongue darting out to lick along your skin.

he swirls around your thigh, taking his sweet time, lapping up any bit of arousal that’s made it way past your shorts, before moving onto the other thigh.

your legs were trembling, head tipped back, as your breathing accelerates. he was avoiding any area near your pussy, every ounce of your being aching for more. more tongue, more touches, more niall. more, more, more.

but once your skin was cleaned up, he pats your legs, groaning, “perfect post workout snack. think m’gonna jump into the shower now, baby.”

your eyebrows furrow immediately, because absolutely the fuck not, “like hell you are,” you quip, shuffling yourself until your centre is hovering right above his stiffening member. “you clean me, i clean you,” you murmur, leaning down over him.

and just like he did for you, your tongue slowly laps up the beads of sweat over his stomach and chest, feeling the ridges of his abs with every stroke. 

your eyes flutter shut, the musky, heady scent of sweaty man wafting through the air, the salty taste on your tongue, it was doing things you never could have imagined. not once had you really given workout niall a chance like this, something he always does much too early in the morning for your liking. but the more you were delving into it, the more your brain was swirling with want. with need.

you couldn’t stop, too caught up in licking as much of him as you could, tongue flicking over his nipples, mouth attaching to his pulse point. 

and it was working. you were teasing him right back. his telltale little breathy pants huffing against your ear whenever you were close to his neck, fingernails indenting your hips, his cock now painfully hard.

you’re not even sure niall’s noticed that his hips have started rolling, searching for any sort of relief, something you’re not too keen on giving into quite yet. 

so a moment later, you pull away, coming to a stand, “better get that shower going, we have some things to do today.”

niall scrubs his face in his hands, groaning loudly for a moment, before getting up with you. and as quick as a flash, he’s got you scooped up in his arms, running off.

you squeal again, laughing loudly, as he whips down the hall, around the corners, and into the washroom. he quickly closes the door behind himself, setting you down on your feet, pinning you against the wall, “can forget about all those things you have planned today. gonna be too busy.”

you hum, your body melting against the wall, as niall’s mouth leaves a trail of open mouth kisses over your shoulder and neck, teeth nibbling on the shell of your ear, “hmm tell me. tell me what we’re gonna do.”

“gonna start by showering with me,” he murmurs against your ear, “and if you’re a good girl, i might use the shower head on you.”

you whimper, nodding quickly, “please, fuck. what else ?”

niall tuts, shaking his head, “depends how good you are for me. now how about stripping down and washing me off in the shower ?”

“yes, yes anything. m’a good girl, i promise.”

……

Masterlist

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: While you’ve known him for a few years you have only been able to call the Irish heartthrob Niall Horan, your boyfriend for almost a year. Now every relationship has issues, and dating someone who is in the spotlight as much as Niall can sometimes cause quite a few if you’re not willing to put in the work. But luckily for you Niall knows a love like yours is worth fighting for and you know you’ve never been happier. This series follows you and Niall’s relationship as it progresses from the early stages onward and how the two of you deal with everyday things like making a grocery list all the way to scheduling FaceTime calls and booking time to see each other when he’s half way around the world✨

Pairing: Niall Horan x fem!reader

Tag List: Open

CW: Language

A/N: I just love Niall fics and feel like we could all use some more boyfriend!Niall in our lives!

Instagrams: here

Conversations: here

Extras: here

*this is a texting series but you’ll find everything in the correct order down below*

Part 1: You’re Lost?

Part 2: Lunch

Part 3: Pizza

Part 4: Rabbit Hole

Part 5: Home

Part 6: Ten Minutes

Part 7: Flowers

Part 8: Package

Part 9: Dates

Part 10: Garden

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Panicked

Prompt: You have a panic attack while you're on tour with him, he helps you through it.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: anxiety, panic attack

A/N: hello!!! i recently discovered there's a painfully limited amount of niall x reader fics out there, so i'm adding to the pot. feel free to send requests / prompts if anyone has ideas they want me to write :) (i especially love angst, so give it to me).

Niall’s laugh fills the air as he leans forward and chats back and forth with the driver. If you weren’t so busy gazing at the views around you, you would’ve held onto the sound of it longer– reminded yourself it’s still your favorite sound in the entire world. 

Tonight is night… forty five? No, forty six. Hell, you can’t remember. All you know is that as far as cities go, this one is small– but it has a certain charm to it that you’ve been admiring the entire ride to and from breakfast.

“Oh, take a look at that,” Niall says, reaching over your lap to point out the window. He’s motioning towards the river, sparkling blue underneath the clear sky, and lined with a cobblestone walkway. “That’s gorgeous.”

He says it longingly– like he wishes he could get out of the car and walk along the path. But of course he doesn’t suggest that. In fact, Niall rarely suggests outings when you’re with him on tour– because he knows how anxious it makes you. Not the outing itself, but the likelihood of him being spotted. You could handle a walk along the river, but you’d have a hard time handling a swarm of people bombarding you on a walk along the river. 

It must drive him crazy– the way you always prefer sticking to the venue or hotel. And while he always claims to understand each and every time you say no to a public dinner, or whatever adventure is planned for the day, you can’t help but wonder if there will come a time that he gets sick of you always anxiously hanging back. 

Your anxiety has ruined so much for you. It’s ruined school events and trips, it’s ruined friendships and opportunities. You don’t want it to ruin your relationship with Niall, too.

For the last year and a half, you’ve been attending therapy consistently– learning breathing techniques and grounding skills to cope with anxiety. 

You wonder if now was a good time to test if it was working. 

“Do we have time before soundcheck?” You ask.  

Niall checks his watch. “It’s only eleven thirty. We don’t have to be back at the venue until one. You want to walk around?” He asks, a hint of surprise in his tone. 

“Yeah, let’s do it,” you agree. 

Niall grins before asking the driver to pull over. 

Hand in hand, the pair of you stroll along the river casually, admiring the views around you. Summer is in full bloom– all the trees a brilliant shade of green, the sky stunningly blue. 

“Look there–” Niall uses his free hand to gesture at a family of ducks swimming along the rivershore. You both stop in your tracks and watch for a moment, a smile spreading widely across your face. 

“This is so nice,” you say. It’s so rare that you actually got quality time with Niall when he was on tour. Sure, you accompanied him to most shows, but you rarely got any shred of privacy. 

This is what life might look like if Niall wasn’t… well, if he wasn’t Niall. You could take quiet walks in the morning along a riverbend. You could sit on park benches and drink your coffee without being swarmed. You’d be free to live your lives– unbothered, undisturbed. 

But that wasn’t reality. And through the years, you learned that the only thing about your situation that you had control over changing was yourself. You couldn’t change the fact that Niall was adored and loved by people wherever you went. But you could try to change how anxious that made you.

You’d accepted the fact that you would always be introverted. People, present company aside, were draining. You’d never get energized from crowds like Niall did, and you’d never like being the center of attention. All you wanted was to be able to handle yourself when Niall inevitably was surrounded by crowds– that way you weren’t always restricted to what you could and couldn’t do whenever he was on tour. 

“It is nice,” Niall agrees. 

“And to think I’d never even heard of this town before,” you add. 

Niall chuckles while you lean further into his side. “I think we’re actually really close to the venue, too,” he says, tilting his head towards the direction of the road. 

The road, which is parallel to the path, curled around a corner and sure enough, in the distance, you could see the faint outline of the venue Niall would perform in tonight. 

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize–” you begin. But before you can finish your sentence, your heart clenches in your chest. Because as soon as you’re far enough along the path to see the road leading to the entrance of the venue, the line of fans waiting to get in appears. 

They’re across the street from the two of you, less than a football field away. Hundreds of fans sit– in their pretty clothes and outfits on the concrete, waiting in the hot sun for your boyfriend’s show. You are simultaneously proud that he is so adored, and terrified that you’ll be spotted. 

“Shit,” Niall mutters under his breath. “Let’s turn back.”

“We can keep going,” you say, trying desperately to prove to him that you really are getting better– that you don’t have to be coddled all the time. 

“We don’t have to–”

“The venue’s closer than the car,” you reply. “It’s fine, let’s just go.” 

“You’re right. Maybe we can just sneak by. Go in the side gate there,” he suggests, nodding towards a side entrance to the venue. “I’m pretty covered up today. You up for that?” 

You nod slowly, although you aren’t sure how true that really was. But at least Niall looked pleased– maybe even a little impressed. 

Following his lead, you keep your head down and just focus on taking one step after another. Your gaze remains fixated on the stone beneath your feet, hoping to evade detection. You breathe in, forcing the air to your stomach– just like your therapist taught you, hold it, and out. 

And slowly, the two of you get closer and closer to the venue, just enough so that you actually start to feel hopeful that maybe you’ll pull it off. 

Until the screaming starts. 

It starts off slow– one person shrieks. 

And then it becomes hysterical– the kind of screams you let out when there’s a snake in the pool or a spider in the shower. Except you know these girls aren’t screaming because of snakes or spiders. They’re screaming because of your boyfriend– who is currently pressed to your side. 

“Oh shit,” he says quietly. “Here they come.”

“Ni–” you whisper, already feeling the panic creeping up your throat. And suddenly, everything you’ve been taught– all the breathing techniques and grounding skills, go out the window. Your mind is blank– frozen. 

“It’s okay,” he encourages you, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “Stand on this side of me.”

He shuffles you so that you’re on his other side– furthest from the group of fans currently running your way while you continue walking towards the venue. You aren’t going to make it in time, you realize– they’re going to catch you first. 

“It’ll be okay,” he repeats to you. “We’re close to the venue, it’ll be okay.”

All you can manage is a weak nod. 

As soon as the group approaches, the warmth from their bodies engulf you like a blanket– slow and suffocating. Niall, of course, handles everything beautifully. “Hello, hello,” he says kindly, remaining so calm. “Afraid we can’t do photos this morning, I’m late for soundcheck… Gotta get inside.”

There are bodies in front of you– there are bodies pressing behind you, bodies around you… everywhere. You lean into Niall’s touch, your clammy hand clinging to his like your life depends on it. In the vague distance, you feel him squeeze back, but it doesn’t feel real. 

“Move please!” A firm voice suddenly shouts above the noise. Instantly, you recognize the voice as one from Niall’s security teaam. Relief floods through you as he makes his way through the group to collect the pair of you. He grabs Niall’s shoulders firmly and guides him forward. In the haste to try and keep up, your sweaty palm slips from his. Desperately, you try to latch back on, but as soon as it parts, bodies slip between you. In an instant, you’re separated from the one person in the entire world that can make you feel safe. 

“Niall—” you try to say, but of course your meek voice is drowned out by the crowd. 

You think you saw a flash of his hair ahead of you, but then a body slams into yours and you stumble, losing track of where it goes. People are pushing forward– to get closer to him. And then suddenly, you can’t breathe at all. Hot bodies all around you, the beating sun above– skin and clothing touching your bare arms. You can’t take it– you’re going to suffocate in here. 

And all you can do is continue to push forward– closer to the gate, hoping that eventually, the crowd will break. 

Everything is simultaneously moving too fast and too slow as the edges of your vision blur, like you’re getting sucked deeper and deeper into a dark tunnel. Chest tightening, you struggle to inhale. 

Until suddenly, someone grabs your elbow, tugging you to your left. You don’t even have the energy to fight it. Instead, you let them pull you sideways until you’re out of the thickest part of the crowd. 

Another one of Niall’s security team that you recognize gave you a concerned look. “You alright?”

You can’t get the words out, so instead you just nod. It’s a lie, though. 

With that, he helps you the rest of the way to the venue. “Move aside!” The security guard yells, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he tries to maneuver his way through. “Move!” 

Using his arm, he sweeps the remainder of the mob from your way and ushers you through the gate. Except, even once you’re inside– separated from the crowd, you’re too far gone to even appreciate it. Instead, you feel the familiar sensation of panic creeping across every inch of your skin, like it has already taken over your entire body. You know you have to get somewhere private, and fast– before you completely fall apart. 

Without even realizing it, your feet start moving. Luckily the attention shifts to the mob of people outside, so no one even notices your attempt to slip away. Or maybe you’re just too engrossed in your own panic to notice anyone noticing you. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting somewhere quiet– somewhere safe. 

You’ve never been to this venue before– but throughout the tour, you’ve learned that most of the layouts are the same. This was an amphitheater– outdoors, minimal options for private breakdowns. Your best bet is going to be the backstage room where you and Niall left your stuff earlier in the day. If you could remember how to get there…

Even though you have no idea where you are going, your body continues to move. It leads you around a couple of corners, past the merch booth and concessions and towards the stage… You’re going to lose it if you don't get somewhere safe fast.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip your shoulders, causing your entire body to seize. 

“It’s me,” a gentle voice murmurs. "I got you."

Through your foggy haze, you recognize Niall’s touch– except you still can’t breathe. 

One look– that’s all it takes for him to know what was going on. Because he’s the one person on this planet that you’d willingly ever let get close to you during a panic attack. 

“One to five?” he asks, indicating the rating scale the two of you had created for moments like this– so you could communicate just how bad you were feeling. One meant you could stay where you were, maybe take some breaths. Two meant he’d guide you through the grounding skills he knew about, maybe rub your back. Three was on the cusp, probably needed to go to a quiet corner to take some space. Four meant getting somewhere quiet and safe– and fast. Five meant you were probably dying. 

You hold up four fingers. It feels bad– scary. Maybe you’re dying… but you also don’t want to be dramatic. 

“Tell me what you need,” he says. 

You try– honestly, you do. You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a gasp– a plea for help. 

“Okay, it’s okay– c’mon,” he grips your shoulders and begins walking. You have no idea where– honestly you don’t have the capacity to care. All of your energy is focused on not passing out. 

Niall flashes his badge to an employee who lets you backstage. You vaguely recognize the halls he leads you down as the ones where you dropped your stuff earlier. He’s bringing you to his dressing room… because of course he knows exactly what you need.  

Once you’re inside, Niall shuts the door behind you as you stagger inside. Then, he spins around, his hands cupping the sides of your face. 

“Look at me, baby,” he says. “It’s okay– you’re okay.” 

“I– can’t–” you gasp, your own hands flying up to grip his forearms for some sort of lifeline to reality. “I can’t– breathe–” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he says. He’s trying to stay calm, but you can hear the uneasiness in his voice. “With me.” 

He gives a deep, methodical inhale before letting out a slow, intentional exhale. “Just do it with me. Slow, like this.” 

He continues, and you try to match his pace– to breathe with him, but it feels like someone is gripping your windpipe– squeezing so hard you just can’t get enough air– 

“Niall–” you beg, your voice hoarse. “I can’t–” 

“C’mon, with me,” he repeats earnestly. He’s looking at you with terror in his eyes, but you find comfort in their familiarity just the same. “We’ve done this a hundred times before, you know how to do this.”

“I– I–” you stammer, but the words won’t form. 

“Shh, with me. Everything’s okay. I’m here. We’re both okay,” he assures you. His gaze is just so tender and soft and careful while his thumb grazes your cheek. 

“I- I can’t-” you choke again, “Please-”

“Shh-” he soothes. “Look at me, nothing else, just me.”

Your wide, desperate eyes meet his. You don’t say anything, just shudder and gasp frantically.  

“With me,” he repeats.

Niall produces loud and deliberate, slow and calming, in and out breathes. After a few seconds, you latch onto the sound, mimicking it, and then finally follow along. 

“There you go,” he whispers.

Your facial features slowly start to relax as you’re able to breathe properly.  Without your loud, choking sobs, you’re able to hear your heartbeat pounding in your chest frantically.  

“Good job,” Niall sighs. “Look, it’s just you and me, we’re okay–”

But he can’t even finish his sentence before you lean forward and wind your arms around his neck– desperate and longing for some sort of comfort. Strong, sturdy arms wrap around you as you burrow your face into the nape of his neck. You breathe him in, letting his familiar scent wash over you. 

“It’s okay,” Niall soothes. Upon feeling your shaky body pressed against his, he squeezes tighter. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here, I got you.”

You melt against him in response, bunching the fabric of his shirt into your fist, trying to communicate just how badly you need him to hold you right now. 

And that’s exactly what he does— until you can finally breathe on your own again. 

And then the wave of guilt comes.

Suddenly the realization of everything hit you– what a basketcase you’d been, running off like that, having a meltdown– you probably scared the shit out of him, or at the very least made a fool of yourself in front of the entire venue. Slowly, you pull back. 

“Are you okay?” Niall says before you can even open your mouth. 

You exhale a deep, shuddering breath that you can feel down your entire body. “I’m okay,” you say, your voice raw. “I’m so sorry– I didn’t mean to freak out.”

“Shh. Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay,” Niall says. His hands grip the outside of your shoulders gently. “Don’t apologize– I’m the sorry one, making you go through a crowd like that. That was a horrible idea.”

“It wasn’t even your idea– and I should be able to go through a crowd like that. I don’t know why I always freak out–” you stammer, feeling so upset with yourself. “It’s so stupid.”

“We talked about this, love. Remember? Anxiety doesn’t always make sense. Right? It’s not rational.” 

“I just—” you start, but you stop when you notice how choked up your voice sounds. You take a slow breath. “I wanted to prove to you that I was doing better– that I wasn’t going to freak out every time we went out. But I guess I haven’t made progress, after all.” 

As soon as you feel the tears burning behind your eyes, you dig the heels of your palms into them frustratedly, like you were physically trying to push them away. 

“It’s getting so much better though, baby,” Niall says encouragingly. “This is the first panic attack you’ve had all tour. Unless you’ve been hiding them from me,” he says with a hint of playfulness to his tone. “First one in forty-five shows. That’s incredible. Last tour you were havin’ em every other night it seemed. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but that’s huge.”

You lower your arms and nod pathetically, gaze fixated on the floor. 

“What is it?” he whispers gently. “Talk to me.”

“I’m so scared,” you choke out, “that one day you’re going to get sick of me–”

“Baby,” Niall interrupts. 

“Maybe not me, but all of this,” you say instead. “I mean, you realize you could have anyone, right? But you could especially have someone who didn’t have a meltdown every time they had to face a crowd– Or someone who could actually handle going out in public with you once and a while.” 

“Please look at me,” Niall says, voice gently serious. Pathetically, you do– your lip quivering as tears threaten to spill. “I need you to listen to me when I tell you this, okay?” 

Slowly, you nod. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Not in a million years, okay? I don’t want someone who loves crowds or going out, because they wouldn’t be you. Baby, honestly, I don’t like getting swarmed or photographed, either. If it bothered me that we didn’t go out much– I’d tell you. But it doesn’t. What does bother me is you changin’ things about yourself because you think it’ll make me happy. You make me happy. You. As you are, no changin’ things.”

You let his words sink in and try to believe them. “I’m just sorry you have to deal with me all the time. You have enough on your plate,” you groan, rubbing your tired eyes. 

Niall sighs. “Baby, I sing and play the guitar– do a little dance or two if I’m really feelin’ it. I think I can handle being there for my girlfriend on top of that,” he says. “I love you. And I want you to be okay, always. That’s all I’ll ever want.”

With all your energy seemingly zapped, you lean forward and rest your forehead on Niall’s shoulder. His arms wrap around you again, anchoring you to him. 

“I love you,” you murmur into his shirt. It’s muffled by the fabric, but it's there just the same. 

You feel his hand cradle the back of your neck while he chuckles softly. “Good, because we still have about forty more shows to go.”

[harrywavycurly]

Texting Boyfriend Niall Horan Part 2: Lunch

Masterlist: Here

CW: semi spicy if you kinda squint, mentions of sexual situations

A/N: I got asked for Niall being spicy and this is where my brain took it and I hope y’all enjoy and that it makes you giggle✨