Niall Horan Imagines and Preferences

Cuddles

You were having a rough day, work had been exhausting, then you'd gotten home to find that the media had spun another story about you and Niall and the fans were getting annoyed. It was all lies – saying that perhaps the two of you were engaged and even expecting a child – and now the fans were sending you hate left, right and center. They were accusing you of ruining Niall's career, and that you were clearly doing it for the fame. And even though you knew it was jealousy fuelled comments, they got to you.

Niall wouldn't be home till later, seeing as he had a day filled with interviews and promotional work. Usually you'd be upset, and wishing for him to get home much earlier than usual, but today it meant you could let out all your pent up emotions from the tiring and draining day.

After getting yourself something to eat, you made your way upstairs in your little townhouse and crawled into the bed. You laid on Niall's side, burying your face in the pillow as you inhaled the scent of his cologne, and the general smell of him. It was calming, but at the same time it brought tears to your eyes.

Within minutes you were full-on sobbing, letting everything out that had built up in the past few months. All the hate from fans, and the ridiculous media scandals. Niall had gotten good at ignoring it all, but it was all still new to you. And no matter how much it hurt, you always wanted to open the laptop and see what people thought of you. Good or bad.

You stifled your cries when you heard the keys in the front door downstairs, furrowing your brow as you mentally reminded yourself that Niall was going to be home late tonight.

Yet the Irish accent rang through the house, and immediately you sat upright, wiping hastily at the smudged mascara on your cheeks. He already hated the fact that his career was what made you like this, so you didn't need him to be reminded of it. You'd promised him not long ago that it was getting better, and you were coping, but you really weren't. It was just to stop him from feeling so guilty.

As you checked yourself briefly in the mirror, you realised there was no way you would be able to get away with promising him you were okay. The boy could read you like a book as it was, and you could never lie to him. You just weren't good at it.

Once again, Niall called out for you, making his way upstairs and heading towards the bedroom. You watched as he walked over, dropping his bag as he noticed your teary eyes and red cheeks. He walked into the room quickly, kneeling on the bed as he took your face in his hands.

"Y/N, oh babe." He whispered, thumb working quickly to wipe away the new tears that couldn't help but present themselves, "What's wrong love?"

All you could do was shrug your shoulders, not feeling like talking. And you knew talking about it would just result in more tears.

Niall seemed to understand that, kicking his shoes off and moving under the covers of the bed with you. He pulled you into his chest as he spooned you from behind, bright blue eyes filled with worry as he kissed the back of your neck through your hair.

"You're too beautiful to cry Y/N," He breathed, his voice just above a whisper, "Way too beautiful."