Could I please have a niall imagine/blurb where you're at the beach and there's a little bar/hut and a worker there starts hitting on you and Niall gets really protective/jealous? Thank you!
“Babe! Hurry up!” Niall yelled from the hotel room while you were in the bathroom changing into your swim suit. The two of you were on vacation to get away from the media and everything and just have sometime to yourselves. It was nice to get away from your job and for you to actually spend time with Niall and not have him constantly in the studio, or meetings, or on the golf course.
You let out a huff at your impatient boyfriend and tied your hair into a bun before opening the white bathroom door. The minute the door opened Niall’s beautiful eyes were on you. His eyes looked at every inch of your body, he loved how the new bikini that he bought you emphasized every curve of your body. “Maybe we should just skip the beach and just stay here.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrow.
“I don’t think so Horan. Get your ass up and let’s go.” You gently slapped his shoulder before slipping on your flip flops and grabbing the beach bag.
“Okay, but when we get back we’re gonna have some fun.” He grunted, standing from the bed and following behind you.
“Alright sleeping beauty, stop fryin’ your skin and lets go get a drink.” Niall said as he nudged your body, you were laid out on the beach towel attempting to get a tan. You hadn’t even realized you drifted off but luckily it wasn’t for too long. Opening your eyes you looked up at Niall who was sitting next to you, his hair was still damp from when he dragged you into the waves to swim with him about an hour ago. Niall’s pale skin on his shoulders, cheeks, and nose were tinted a light shade of pink. It didn’t look too bad but you knew he was gonna act like a little baby and whine about the slight sunburn later.
“Fine, help me up.” You replied stretching your arms out as he stood, grabbed your hands and pulled you up with him. As you turned to walk away he slapped your bum making you let out a squeal and turn around and glare at him.
“What? You had sand on your bum, I’m just helpin’ me girl out.” He smirked.
“Yeah, okay. Now come on, I thought you wanted a beer.” Grabbing his hand you walked to the little hut that was set up by the board walk, finding two bar stools you sat waiting to be served by one of the boys across the counter.
Niall and you chatted for a minute before a boy, that was around your age, came to take your order. “I’ll have a guinness.” He told the server. The boy than turned to you and looked you up and down, “What will you be having gorgeous?” He asked, obviously trying to flirt with you.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see Niall’s body language change and he became more stiff, his jealousy kicking in. “A margarita.” You answered simply, hoping the guy would take the hint that you weren’t interested.
As the server walked away Niall watched him the whole time, probably hoping he’d making him burst into flames just from his stare. “Ni, stop, it’s fine. He’s flirting and messing around, I’m not interested so you have nothing to worry about.” The last thing you wanted was for Niall to make a scene.
“That’s not the point (Y/N), we fuckn’ walked over here holdn’ hands so it’s not like he doesn’t know we’re together. What type of dick flirts with a girl in front of her boyfriend.” You could tell that he was angry because his accent suddenly got a lot thicker
Before you could tell him to calm down the server walked over again. He simply placed Niall’s beer on the bar, not even sparing him a glance, while he handed you your drink. “Here you go beautiful. My name is Jordan by the way.” He said. Instead of leaving Jordan leaned against the bar and looked you up and down once more, you could tell he kept looking at you boobs. “You’re not gonna tell me your name, love?” Jordan smirked, he obviously didn’t care that Niall was giving him a death stare.
“Uh, my name is (Y/N).” You answered back, hoping that if you just old him he’d go away.
“A gorgeous name for a gorgeous women.”
A blush was now prominent on your cheeks as the server continued to stare at your body. Niall reached over and gripped your hand before turning to Jordan, “Yeah it is. Now can ya leave me girl alone and stop lookin’ at her tits.” This didn’t help your embarrassment at all, “Jesus, Ni, calm down. Please. I’d rather not cause a scene.” You scolded your boyfriend.
“Sorry man,” The boy chuckled, “Your girls bod is just too hot, I can’t help but take it all in.”
“Fuck off.” Niall said taking one last sip of his beer before he got up off the stool and helped you down off of yours, “I’m not gonna sit here and let ya talk about and look at her like she’s just somethin’ you’d like to jack off to, because god knows yer not gettin’ any women acting like that.” He spat before he turned and dragged you down the beach.
Once when you were far enough away from the bar Niall stopped and turned to look at you, “I’m sorry about all that darlin’.” He said before kissing your forehead sweetly.
“I love when you get all over protective, it’s so adorable.” You giggled, lightly pinching his chubby cheeks, “But let’s go back to the room and have some of that fun you wanted earlier.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Louis asks in frustration, kicking Harry’s shin aggressively from under the grimy bar table.
Harry lets out a surprised yelp, his leg shooting away from Louis’ as he rubs it soothingly. “Lou, what the hell?” He demands, glaring at his blue eyed friend with a questioning look on his face.
Louis rolls his eyes at his overdramatic friend, replying smartly, “Maybe next time you should listen to your best mate when he’s trying to talk to ya, yeah?”
“Calm down,” Harry snorts, allowing his eyes to shift back over to the blonde boy that he’d been after for months. “I’m just scouting out the crowd.” He lies blatantly, shrugging at Louis’ unimpressed look.
“As if. You’ve been obsessed with Horan’s kid since the beginning of the season.” Louis retorts with a sly smirk, knowing exactly how his best friend’s mind worked.
Harry’s eyebrows furrow. He wasn’t that obvious, was he? “Don’t be a prick.” He warns, “I’m just looking around.”
Louis gives Harry a blasé look. “Alright then, how about you go pick up that bird, hm? She’s been staring after you almost as much as you’ve been staring at the kid.” Louis challenges, a snicker already sneaking it’s way into his voice.
Harry glances back behind him, making eye contact with a pretty, tanned girl with long, dark hair. She’s giving him the look. The look meaning: sultry, slanted eyes and a sinister smile curling around her dark red lips as she stared right back at Harry. She clearly knew who he was and must’ve heard about his most recent win for Chelsea, putting them through to the next round of playoffs.
He turns back to Louis with raised eyebrows, sighing when he sees his friend’s haughty look, chin held high as he grins right back at Harry. “Fuck you.” Harry spits, getting up from his seat nonetheless and sauntering over to the girl whose friends are now whispering to her excitedly as her back is turned.
Harry puts on his “million-dollar smile,” the one for the cameras and for the ladies. He taps the girl politely on the shoulder, and she turns, a bit too quickly in her heels, leaving her to stumble a bit. Whether it was predestined or not, Harry grabs her arm, steadying her and thus bringing her closer to himself, tilting his head charmingly and grinning. “Careful there,” He murmurs in a deep, soft voice.
She looks dumbfounded now that he’s in her presence. Before it was just a look, and Harry can see that most of her confidence has flooded down the drain now that he’s right in front of her. “Oh, uh t-thank you.” She stutters and honestly, Harry might’ve found it cute had he not been so infatuated with a certain blonde across the room.
His eyes drift towards said boy accordingly, almost out of instinct and his look darkens as he sees another boy speaking closely into the blonde’s ear. Harry’s face flushes in what might be jealousy, and he’s half ready to run over and stop the kid from going home with someone that isn’t right for him– someone that isn’t named Harry Styles. but one look at Louis’ smug grin stops him.
Harry can’t let his cocky best mate be right, even though he most definitely is, he just can’t know that.
He turns back to look at the girl, who’s looking off towards Niall as well with a redundant look on her face. “Who’s that?” She asks with a glint of interest in her voice. Harry shakes his head.
“Not sure, love. I think the more important question is who are you?” He asks smoothly and he knows by the absolute heart eyes she just gave him that he’s already got it in the bag. In fact, Harry’s sure that if he asked right now without any other words, she would go home with him. Internally, he sighs.
It’s never fun when they’re so easy.
Harry realizes after a pause in the conversation that he missed her name, but he can’t force himself to care. At this point, his interest is mostly gone and his eyes are jumping every few seconds over to the blonde that’s still on the dance floor with the brown haired douche that kinda looks familiar.
It takes barely 3 minutes for the blonde to get over the other boy’s flirting and Harry can see by the way his demeanor that he’s uncomfortable. The kid starts backing up, hands suddenly stuck to his side and away from the bigger guy and Harry would never stand and allow his boy to get harassed by some random creep, Louis be damned. He gives the girl an apologetic smile, gesturing “1 minute,” even though he’s positive he won’t be returning.
He gets close enough to hear his little blonde mutter something like, “Stop, Nick, stop,” before he gets in between them.
In a huff, he presses a hand against the other boy’s chest, eyes narrowed and glare strong. The other boy stops, looking at Harry with confused, somewhat disoriented eyes and the green-eyed boy can already tell that this guy is obliterated. Still, he stands firmly in front of the blonde, who gratefully cowers behind.
“I think he asked you to stop, mate.” Harry growls, and the guy, seemingly drunk but sober enough to know not to start a fight with Harry Styles, backs off pretty quickly.
With a soft sigh, Harry turns to the blonde, murmuring softly, “You okay, Ni?”
Niall tilts his head, smiling up at Harry cheekily. “I could’ve handled that myself.” He says in his own defense, but relents nevertheless, hugging Harry tightly around his waist, teasingly whispering, “Thank you, Hazzy.”
With that, Niall steps back, blinking up at Harry with his huge, beautiful blue eyes as he says, “Well, I think I’m going to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Niall asks, biting his lip like he knows what it does to Harry.
In all honestly, he probably does. Harry doesn’t try to hide just how much he loves Niall. All of his teammates know, the coach definitely knows (and he hates it), and Niall, unfortunately, knows as well. And ever since day one, Niall made it extremely clear to Harry that he’d never make it easy on the taller boy. He may be small and innocent looking, but Niall Horan was a spitfire if Harry had ever seen one. Niall with his perfectly Irish accent, blazingly bright blonde hair, and sassy yet kind attitude, Harry never stood a chance.
“Do you want me to walk you home, or get you a cab? And of course you’ll see me. I can’t wait.” Harry blurts, unable to control himself at all around this kid. He knows his cheeks are red and he knows that his eyes are too bright, too excited and vulnerable but the way Niall holds on to his muscled bicep is worth it.
Niall’s hand doesn’t even begin to fit around the circumference of his arm, but he holds tight anyway, leaning up and kissing Harry’s cheek (much closer to his mouth, in Harry’s own opinion) sweetly before pulling away. “Already got a cabbie, Harry, but thank you, you’re the best.” He says solemnly, waving at Harry with his hand before rushing out the door and leaving Harry in a whirlwind by himself.
He can see Louis giving him a “I-knew-you-were-a-spineless-pussy-I-told-you-so,” look, but Harry’s too far off cloud nine to notice. He simply flips the blue-eyed brunette off and walks out the door, about ready to head home himself, all thoughts of the girl at the bar completely away from him.
* * * *
The thing is, Harry is good at what he does. He loves football and he loves playing for Chelsea with all of his friends but nothing will ever beat how good it feels after a harsh, terribly exhausting practice to be met with the gorgeous, positive sunshine ball that was Niall Horan. He came to nearly every practice along with his dad, who was head coach for Chelsea F.C.
He was just 18 and played football all his life before a horrific incident that involved a too-enthusiastic recreational team and a shattered kneecap when he was 16 years old. Instead of being bitter and angry towards the cards that life had dealt him, Niall was just… perfect. He’d encourage all of the players and helped with practice as much as he could, and Harry just couldn’t get over it.
Niall sits next to him as he heaves heavily on the shady bench on the side of the field. Subtly, the blonde hands him a water bottle and a towel, smiling at Harry as the brunette wipes his face thankfully.
“Hard day?” Niall asks amiably and Harry nods in response, chuckling a bit while he’s still breathing heavily.
“I can’t believe we’re almost in the play offs. Just two weeks.” The Irish boy sighs dreamily, like he was going to be playing in it himself. “So cool.” He continues, smiling to himself and Harry can’t help but stare.
They’re quiet for a minute, and it’s nice, loud whistles and blunt punting noises as well as grunts from the acting goalies. Harry’s stuck in a trance, just staring at (his) blonde beauty. He doesn’t even think before he inquires, “Do you want to come over later tonight? I could make you dinner. We could just watch movies. Anything you want.” Harry offers, ready to do anything Niall wants as long as they’re together.
Niall smiles at him and for a moment, Harry thinks that he might finally get an acceptance from the blonde. But, his hopes are dashed as Niall shakes his head. “I’m busy tonight, sorry Harry.” He shrugs, getting off from the bench.
“We can go any night? Tomorrow? Day after?” Harry calls loudly, but Niall just waves a hand behind him, jogging over to where Louis and some other guys are warming up.
Harry’s eyes drift as Niall walks, down his skinny shoulders and down the spine of his back and down….
the brunette jumps violently as he feels a harsh swat to his head. “Eyes on the prize, Styles, leave my kid out of it!” Coach Horan, a nice, older, but stern man with the same blue eyes as his son.
Harry smirks, playfully smirking at the coach, “I thought your son was the prize.” He winks yelping and rushing off the bench as the coach slaps him across the head again.
He winks over at Niall as he hears the blonde cackling from down the field, sighing as he begins to do more drills, wondering how in the hell he’s ever going to get Niall to be his.
* * * *
It’s the day.
Play-off days are always tense but for some reason, this day seemed even more than usual. They’re playing Manchester United, one of their biggest rivals as well as one of the best football clubs in their country. It was going to be a tough game to say the least.
The players are in the locker room now. There’s an agreeable silence among them, and everyone seems to be readying themselves for the game ahead of them. Coach Horan’s inspirational-movie-like speech had just finished and the game was to be starting in just a few minutes. Harry had yet to see Niall, something that was causing him extra anxiety because, somewhere deep down he knew Niall was his personal good-luck charm.
They get the call to leave the tunnel within minutes and Harry sighs, rubbing a hand along his face and standing up. But, as the rest of the team files out, Harry gets pulled back. He’s ready to fight someone, fists raised and mouth open, but he’s shushed by a familiar accent as he gets pushed down onto one of the more secluded benches.
“Niall?” Harry whispers in confusion, glancing up at the blonde boy, who looks a bit urgent in his meaning of talking to the brunette.
“Harry.” Niall answers calmly, sitting himself in the brunette’s lap, instantly making Harry alert and coherent. Harry’s hands instantly go to Niall’s hips, holding him close even despite his confusion. “I have to tell you something very important, okay? I need you to listen.” He says, so softly that Harry definitely wouldn’t be able to hear him had the blonde not been whispering directly in his ear. Soft, pink lips are brushing against Harry’s ear as the taller boy nods eagerly, Niall chuckles sultrily, “I just want you to know, that this game means a lot to me…” The Irish boy breathes, digging his nose into Harry’s neck, making the brunette shiver, wondering if this was actually even happening. “And if you win this… for me… I would do anything for you.” He says, nipping at Harry’s neck playfully before pulling back, small smile clear on his face.
“Understood?” He clarifies, sitting up rubbing his hands across Harry’s broad shoulders and down his muscled arms. Harry can do nothing but nod, mouth slightly open and Niall kisses the corner of his mouth slowly, pulling back and winking before walking out of the locker room, swaying his hips teasingly as he does so.
He can’t even be mad that he gets in trouble with the coach for being late.
* * * *
It’s down to the final moments of double overtime with the score tied 1-1. The team is huddled up, listening to coach Horan give orders to all of the defense members to be on their best game and enthusing the rest of them just before timeout ends. They break and Harry shakes his head, pulling his longer hair and re-doing the bun so that it’s more out of his face. They still have a few seconds left and he can’t help but notice Niall walking closer to him.
Harry grabs his shoulders as soon as he’s close enough, shaking them slightly, “Anything?” He explicates.
Niall grins, nodding. “Anything.” He returns.
Harry’s eyes narrow in determination as the siren blares, alerting them that their minute is up.
He’s got a game to win.
* * * *
It’s 15 seconds left when he gets the ball.
He’s halfway down the field, running harder than he’s ever done before. The defenders for Manchester look tired, they look worn, but they aren’t going to let him by easy. It’s 10 seconds and he feels like he can hear Niall screaming from the bench.
It’s five seconds when he gets to the right wing of the opponents field and he can feel the opposing players around him, trying to get the ball.
It’s three seconds when he kicks the ball with all his might with little sense of direction.
Two seconds, it’s in the air.
One second, it’s slipping past the goalie’s gloved hands and for a second he thinks he’s deaf because he can’t even hear himself as he yells out in victory as the siren blares.
He’s got eyes for no one but Niall, he doesn’t stop for his teammates who are huddled on the ground or coach Horan who’s throwing his clip board in excitement. Nope.
He’s only got eyes for the coach’s son, blue eyes bight and excited as Harry runs straight towards him, barely slowing down before they embrace as Harry shouts, “That was for you!”
* * * *
Niall holds up his end of the deal.
It’s two days later when Niall comes over to Harry’s house.
The aura is romantic and Harry’s casually dressed but the food smells gourmet and Niall is beginning to think that maybe Harry really is just that perfect. With his stupidly slow Cheshire accent, perfectly curly hair pulled up into a messy bun, and sweet and protective and perfect, Niall never really stood a chance.
“This is amazing. Why haven’t I agreed sooner?” Niall asks in a moan as he takes the first bite of whatever Harry’s prepared for them. The atmosphere isn’t that new to them. The flirting and touching was always a part of their relationship, but the nerves of the first real date were there and Harry was buzzing.
“Hey, I told you I was a good cook.” Harry says with a sly smirk on his face.
Niall rolls his eyes, remarking “Someone’s cocky.”
Harry simply shrugs, and the two continue on the night in comfortable conversation about footie and Louis and the coach as well as other stupid puns and jokes that both boys seemed to enjoy.
Before they can begin cleaning up from dinner, Harry makes a move.
He closes Niall in around the kitchen counter as the blonde is attempting to put away his dishes. “Harry…” He giggles in faux-frustration.
“Niall,” Harry repeats childishly, grinding against the blonde ever so slightly, making the shorter boy pause his giggling.
He turns in Harry’s arms quickly. “I thought you would never take me up on that whole anything, thing.” He says, and instantly Harry’s lips are crashing to his own.
It’s heated for a moment, something they had both wanted but held away from for so long. Harry’s grip on Niall is tight and unyielding and Niall knows that he’ll have some lovely battle scars from this night if it goes the way he hopes.
“The anything thing was this date, this is just a bonus.” Harry murmurs appreciatively and Niall begins to suck on his jaw lovingly, hands tight around his shirt and neck, the shorter boy lifting up onto his tip toes just to get a good grip.
They end up on Harry’s bed, Niall in the bigger boy’s lap, hands grabbing at his shirt and kissing him feverishly like it was their last chance. Harry’s hands are blatantly groping Niall’s arse, making the blonde whimper into his mouth and pull the brunette hair out of it’s bun, allowing it to fall down. Harry opens his eyes questioningly but Niall just shrugs. “I like having something to hold on to.” He explains, not wasting any time driving forward and kissing Harry hard once more. Now he’s tugging harshly on Harry’s curls and damn, Harry didn’t know he was into that.
Ten minutes later and they’re dry humping on his couch. Harry pulls away, patting heavily, trying to regain his stature as he breathes, “This– shit, this isn’t why I brought you here, Ni.”
Niall pulls away, breathing just as heavily as he nods. “I know that, but it feels good, yeah?” He mutters, leaning back in to kiss Harry.
Harry nods, but pulls away, not sure if he truly understood what Niall was saying. “But Niall…” He protests, trying to push the blonde away.
“Harry, I’m not… ’m not looking for anything temporary. I don’t think you are either. I want this. A relationship. You.” Niall says seriously, looking Harry straight in the eyes. “And right now…” He murmurs, looking down a bit shyly, “I want this.” He smiles softly, just like Harry knows and loves.
So Harry kisses him. It’s sweet and soft and maybe the most memorable of them all.
They continue on like that for a bit before Niall starts giggling completely out of the blue. Harry gives him a confused look that just makes Niall laugh even harder.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just…. what’s me pa gonna say about this?” He asks and they both dissolve into fits of laughter. Yeah, this was going to work out just fine.
Aw yay I liked this one :) Thanks so much to the prompt-er and everyone reading! Also I’m sorry I know nothing about footie or sports at all sorry :\
PILLOW TALK IS EVERYTHING ALL I WANT TO DO IS WRITE ZIALL IM DED