niall shower

Running Water

Pairing: Niall x Reader

Warnings: Extremely smutty, Y/N feels a bit insecure at one point, Language

Hello everyone! This is the Niall Imagine from this request: Hey love!Can I request?Y/N and Niall’s shower sex for the 1st time? xxx

Hope everyone enjoys it!

This is how I imagine the Shower btw but minus the ugly brown tile lol. Just for some reference.

You were taking off your clothes, having decided to pamper yourself just a little, you were going to take a nice long shower. You wrapped a towel around yourself, bending over to adjust the temperature in the shower. You turned and saw Niall hastily stripping off his shirt and jeans. You jumped a little, not expecting him there. “Sorry petal, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said nonchalantly. “Niall, what are you doing?,” 

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anonymous asked:

So do you think Niall would react to seeing you wrapped up in a towel fresh out of the shower? Like, if you guys hadn't had sex yet, and you were just staying at his place and needed a shower? (Because he probably forced you to play footie with him)


A/N: it’s 2:30am and this is completely unedited. Fair warning.

Manual Labor

“I don’t want to be an ass….but don’t you have, um, people to do this?”

Niall snorted out a laugh from where he was splayed on his stomach in the grass, pulling weeds and stray leaves from beneath the bushes along his fence. “Aww c’mon, a little manual labor will do ya good. Don’t be such a pansy ass.”

I stood up and pulled the hem of my ratty shirt up to wipe the sweat and grime off my forehead. As I dropped the soft fabric back down I caught Niall’s eyes as they shifted quickly back down to the piles of brown, crunchy leaves in front of him.

“See something you like, Horan?” I smirked and popped my hip towards him, shaking my bum slightly in my running shorts.

“Piss off.  I’ve been so busy with tour and promo I haven’t pulled in forever.  What t’hell am I supposed to do when I see a flash of skin on a fit girl?”  

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Mother’s Day

niall / fluff / part 1 of 5

With the baby sling secured around his waist, and baby cuddled close to his chest completely content with a small hat covering his soft fresh head, Niall was ready. As you watched your husband and son bundle up for the chilled afternoon in the town, tummy to tummy and harnessed together safely, you imagined the fun times they would share today, and continue to do so for many more years to come.

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Niall Blurb - The Shower Incident

“Babe……” I called from the shower, waiting for him to respond. Nothing. “Babe!” I shouted a little louder this time. Still nothing. “NIALL!!” I hollered and could literally hear it bouncing off of the walls in our bedroom. I finally heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Ya need me?” He peeked his head around the door frame that joined our bathroom and bedroom.

“Clearly, I’ve been calling for you for ten minutes now,” I grumbled. I heard him let out a low chuckle.

“Whatcha need, love?” he asked as he stepped into the bathroom.

“Can you get me a new bar of soap, mine’s almost out?” I cracked the door to the shower and held my hand out. “Please?”

I heard him rustling around in my bathroom cabinet and then……nothing. “Niall?” I peered through the glass shower door and he was nowhere to be found. “Ni, seriously, where are y-“

“Right here, Lex.” He cut me off as he walked towards the shower, completely naked, and stepped in – handing me my bar of soap as he turned on the second shower head.

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the greatest gift: one



feedback is love, please leave me some


I flip my head over and begin raking my hair up into a ponytail as Niall passes by me and delivers a light tap to my lower back, “Lovely view.” 

I straighten with a roll of my eyes, securing my hair and beginning my morning hunt for grips to hold my bun in place. My flatmate meets my eyes in the mirror with a grin that is synonymous to the one that had charmed its way into the hearts of girls since we were sixteen. His cheeks are still flushed pink from the bitter air outside and his grey t-shirt damp with sweat.

“Have you seen any hair grips lying around?”

Niall toes off his socks before stepping further into the bathroom. “Are ya serious? They’re fuckin’ everywhere: the car console, in the kitchen, on the stairs, in my –”

“Found some, drama queen.” I cut him off when I see a few poking out of my makeup kit.

I secure the grips tightly into my hair, glancing at Niall from the corner of my eye as he lifts his shirt above his head and tosses it into the linen basket.

“You just can’t help but take your clothes off around me, hmm?” I tease him, speaking around the hair grip that’s between my lips.

“Whatever,” he laughs. “Ya know ya want it.”

I keep pinning, but my eyes don’t leave the mirror as he reaches into the shower to turn the knob before stepping from his joggers. The pipes clang as the water rushes out and his fingers adroitly work the faucet until the sound stops.

The sight of him in his pants has long since stopped making me flush with embarrassment; I can’t count how many times I’ve seen Niall walk around our flat half naked or caught him ushering a girl out at some ungodly hour with just a blanket draped around his hips. That being said, I’m still a woman, I can appreciate how handsome he is, but he’s also my best friend, and besides, I’ve got a boyfriend.

I sigh, sticking the last of the hair grips into my hair. “Can you just keep your pants on for thirty more seconds so I can finish my hair?”

I step out of the way as he reaches for the shave cream from beneath the counter. “Ya just said I couldn’t keep me clothes on around you…Can’t make ya out to be a liar now, can I?” He snaps his waistband twice for good measure.

“Well, I don’t think George would appreciate you just pulling your cock out in front of me.”

Niall throws his head back and laughs. “What’s he going to do, give me a proper talking to? Paint me to death with his brushes?” He huffs. “Fuckin’ pussy.”

I huff back. “Yeah, because you singing him to death would be so terrifying.”

I say something about the way he’s speaking about George, but it won’t do any good. Niall doesn’t like George, and George doesn’t like Niall – though he would never confess – it’s just the way it is. Niall thinks George is a wannabe prick, and George thinks Niall is an egotistical arsehole. To be honest, I never got the whole musicians versus artists thing.

“Have you noticed George’s hands?” asks Niall with a grin, unable to let it go. “They’re so girly and slender.”

The room begins to fill with steam as the water finally heats up.

“Piss off, Niall,” I snip back, beginning to get irritated. “You just don’t like him because he doesn’t like you.”

He looks himself up and down and raises an eyebrow as if to say, ‘What’s not to like?’

I roll me eyes, ignoring him and grabbing my cardigan from behind the bathroom door, slipping my arms through the sleeves. Just after yelling a goodbye, I hear a honk outside which prompts me to pick up my bag.

In sock covered feet, I run over to the window at the end of the hallway and peek behind our Christmas tree to see Ruby parked by the kerb. I give a little wave and she waves back. I jog down the stairs of our flat, stuffing my feet into my trainers as I go. Once I get into the car, I find Ruby peering through the windshield up at the second floor.

“What’re you doing?”

“Erm…just checking if your gutters need clearing.”

I snort, mainly because the building that Niall and I have called home for the last four years is in need of very little repair but also at the fact that Ruby hasn’t got half a clue about home maintenance. “You won’t see Niall; he’s in the shower, you little liar.”

Ruby smirks as she pulls away from the kerb. “I seriously can’t believe you two haven’t shagged.”

I rest my bag by my feet. “Ruby, I’ve known Niall since I was fifteen. He used to pull my pigtails and snap my bra straps.”

“You know what that means.” She says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“That he secretly fancies me? That’s such a shit message to teach children.” I roll my eyes and reach to turn down the radio. “No, but, honestly…We’re just mates.”

Ruby glances at me from the corner of her eye. “Would you be just mates if you were single?”

“But I’m not single so…”

“Don’t be difficult, I said if you were. You’re telling me you wouldn’t let him just have his way with you? Cos, babes, I’m married and all but, if he offers, I would waste no time.”

I laugh and decide to change the subject. “Is the family ready for Christmas? Only one week to go.”

And because Ruby is so easily distracted, she takes the bait. She’s one of the top account executives at our firm, but her kids are her Achilles heel. “Yeah, they’re so excited. Though, I practically have to put CCTV on the Advent calendar.” She shakes her head. “Yesterday, I caught Alfie trying to sneak four days of chocolates instead of one.”

I giggle. “Puberty and boys, am I right?”

Ruby snorts. “Yes, but I have to go through it three times over.” Her expression changes a little, and she looks at me in full Mummy mode. “Are you sure you and Niall don’t want to join us for Christmas Dinner? There’s always room for a few more…”

I reach across the console to pat her arm. “Honestly, it’s fine. We’re having our mini Christmas on the twenty-fifth and then we’re just flying back home on Boxing Day.”

“Clara,” Ruby begins.

“It’s alright, really. It’s not like we don’t get to see our families, it’s just a day later. And besides, it’s not like we’re alone or anything – there’ll be seven of us. I promise that it’s better than it sounds.”

Ruby smiles at me, her posture seeming to relax. “Okay, but the offer’s still on the table.”

The rest of the drive to the office is filled with chatter about our weekend and complaints about the fact that we’re all working right up until Christmas Eve.

It’s a few hours later whilst I’m in a meeting with a workmate and a client when I receive Niall’s first text message.

Do you know where my glasses are?

I scoff quietly. They’re not even real glasses, you fucking hipster.

Don’t be mean. 

Another buzz. They help me think.

And we both know you need all the help you can get.

Do keep in mind that smart arses get spanked, Clara.

I feel my cheeks grow warm and my mind begins to race in hopes of coming up with a cheeky response but, I draw blank. I’m still twiddling my thumbs thinking of a reply when my workmate interrupts. “Miss Collins, can you present the numbers we received last week?”

I tap a few buttons on my laptop to bring up the charts on the screen at the front of the room. “Not a problem. The highest period of sales…”

When the meeting finishes, I go back to my office to check my messages. The first seven, I ignore, because I know that they’re Niall’s rantings about writers block. There’s also one that’s completely in random Tommy asking me if I could make a roast turkey in a blanket. The last is from George and it brings a smile to my face.

Lunch? My shout.

I grin as I tap out a reply, telling him to meet me at my office’s canteen and to order me a bacon butty on barley.

I’m reapplying my chapstick when Ruby pops in and asks, “Got a date?”

“Yeah.” I reply with a smile. “George is buying me lunch.”

“Ah,” she says, and then she tilts her head, as if confused. “Wait – he is buying?”

“Yeah,” I reply, standing up from behind my desk.

“Well, there really is a first for everything,” I hear her mutter, and then clearer, “Have a good time!”

I smile at her and make my way to the lift. When I reach the canteen, George is already waiting, seated at a table near the back. I head over to him, smile still in place. He stands up but the smile on his face looks strained.

“Hi,” I greet him. I tilt my head up for a kiss, and he leans down to kiss me chastely on the cheek.

“Hey,” he replies, waving towards the seat beside him.

I take a seat, my eyes roaming his face. He seems off, even more so than his normal arty indifference. There are spots of red paint in his dark hair, and white flecks along his jaw, which I notice as he bends his head to take a bite from his burger. I pick up half of my sandwich with one hand and reach for his with the other. They’re completely clean – free of paint, and his nails are shiny and…well…girly.

How have I never noticed this?

“How’s your day going, then?” I question. God, I really do hate small talk.

He shrugs vaguely. The conversation is stiff as we speak about our mornings, and it’s not until I’m a quarter way through my butty that he suddenly wipes his hands on his trousers and pushes his plate towards the centre of the table.

“Clara,” he starts, his voice unsteady. “I uhm…” he clears his throat, “I think we should break up.”

My hand stops mid-air, my mouth open. “Sorry?”

“It’s just that…we’re just so…I mean, you're” – he waves his hand around, indicating the canteen full of my workmates – “and I’m, y’know, not. I mean, I’m an artist. I thought we could make it work but…”

I blink at him, slowly lowering the hand that had been frozen in the air. “But what?”

He looks uneasy. “But you…we…us…” He coughs, and picks up his napkin, sliding it between his finger.

Hm, they really are girly.

“You know what? Forget it.” I say, standing and grabbing my purse from the table.

I’m so cross and embarrassed. I’ve just been dumped in a room filled with my workmate, on my lunch break and with ‘Santa Baby’ blasting on the speakers in the canteen. I want to go home with a pint or six.

He stands as well, a look on his face that could only be described as pity. “Clara. I’m so sorry.”

“I said, forget it.” I mumble, looking anywhere but at him. The last thing I want is his fucking pity.

His tone is so sickeningly apologetic that it just grates on my nerves even further. “It’s my muse,” he mumbles. “It like me being with you has made it” – he rubs his stupid, girly fingers over his hard – “constipated or something. Nothing’s coming out.”

“Did you just say I make you constipated?” I shriek, a little louder than I intended, because honestly, that’s got to be the worst break up line ever.

“No! Not me,” he says quickly as I turn on my heel and make for the door. “My muse.”

“Unfuckingbelievable,” I scoff, still walking, and simultaneously avoiding eye contact with a group of girls from our human resources department.

“Clara, wait!” He yells and I stop, folding my arms across my chest as he speaks again. “I…uh…” He pulls out his wallet. “Well…I’m a bit skint at the moment…”

He’s got to be joking.

I turn to see him fidgeting in his chair.

He’s not joking.

Scoffing, I walk the short distance back to the table, reach into my purse to take out the exact change and toss the coins onto table.

“Happy fucking Christmas, dickhead.”

a/n: hiya, back again with another short (but sweet) one.
this is the only chapter with a severe lack of niall, i promise  – hopefully you like it well enough to stick around.
i’m really excited to hear your thoughts if you enjoyed reading (or if you didn’t).
speak soon,
charlie. x

anonymous asked:

Omg can you do a fluff/smut (maybe?!) where Niall wants you to marry him so he sings marry me by Bruno on stage to you?? 😍♥️

On Stage Surprise 

Originally posted by 25746591

This request is so cute omgabfasdf

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Harry Styles Cooks... Volume 1: The Baking Years

In which Louis Tomlinson can’t cook, there’s a very special shower curtain, and Harry Styles used to be a baker. 

Or: Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them. 

Or: I don’t know what the fuck this is, sorry. 

Louis Tomlinson can’t cook. He can, for the most part, feed himself and generally keep himself alive, in a frozen pizza, tins of soup, cereal-for-dinner kind of a way. He can do pasta and sauce, and cheese on toast, and sandwiches, and microwave meals and things which require zero attention, zero skill, and even less enthusiasm. Louis Tomlinson likes Tesco meal deals for lunch and cans of coke on the way to the bus stop after work. He likes bags of crisps, and the biscuit tin by the printer in his office.

He has a long list of things he doesn’t like – including but not limited to courgettes, baked beans, couscous, fish, posh sausages that taste of stuff that isn’t pork, vegetables on principle, drinks that are green, kale, stuff they sell in Waitrose, mushrooms, weird fruit, lentils, and pineapple on pizza.

All of this is perfectly normal and doesn’t bother Louis one little bit.

It doesn’t, however, go any way to explaining why Louis has an entire shelf in his bedroom devoted to Harry Styles cookbooks, or why his best mates Liam and Niall bought him a custom-made Harry Styles Cooks… pillowcase and duvet set for his birthday last year, with Harry Styles’ ridiculous face plastered all across it like on the titles of his stupid cooking TV show, or why Louis had to buy a DVR purely to save all the stupid episodes of each of Harry Styles’ stupid cooking series so he could watch them whenever he wanted. It definitely didn’t explain the three different Harry Styles-themed mugs in the kitchen cupboards, and it 100% did not explain the special shower curtain.

There obviously is an explanation for all of that, but it isn’t something that Louis can file under any sort of ‘wants to learn to cook’ headline.

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All the Love

Inspired [x]

They came out and said their thanks and bowed. Niall clung to Harry a bit tighter in the hug.

Harry likes it. He feels at home in Niall’s arms. Not that he is ever admit that.

Niall feels the same, not like he would say that to Harry though. Or to anyone… except for Louis. Which seemed to be a bad judgement call on his part.

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Brand New Start.

Read parts 1-5 on my masterlist HERE 

((sorry this took so long, I’m currently in school so it might be a while till I write more stuff so bare with me but i’ll do my best!!))

Enjoy!! :)

Originally posted by dailyniall

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anonymous asked:

Writing prompt number 4 with Niall! :D

4. “Is that my shirt?”

Niall was in the shower, you were in the kitchen pouring popcorn into a bowl for a snack while you two watch a movie. The movie remained paused, Niall insisted that it be until he was done being squeaky clean. You tried to get as cozy as you could on the couch, but it wasn’t working how you wanted to since Niall was absent. You took a few pieces of popcorn in your mouth, bored and waiting. If Niall didn’t hurry up, the popcorn would be gone and the movie would have already started.

Just as you were about to call for him, tell him to hurry and come back because you missed him, he appeared, like a little ghost. He waltzed into the living room, sweat shorts coming to his knees and white socks on his ankles. You didn’t understand how some people could walk around their home in white clean socks, it made your skin crawl. He was wearing a shirt that was a little too big for him, but it was cute. It showed more of his collarbones and shoulders than his regular lazy shirts did. The design on the shirt made you squint, trying to recognize where you’ve seen it before.

“Ready?” Niall huffed as he settled on the couch. 

You kept looking at his shirt as he tried to settle in under his favorite fuzzy blanket. Now he was having trouble because you weren’t on top of him as you usually were. Niall lifted the blanket, inviting you to cuddle with him. He had a pout on his lips when he saw you looking at him funny.

“What’s wrong?” Niall asked.

“Is that my shirt?” You quizzed.

It indeed was. It was one of your favorite nightshirts to sleep in. It was unnecessarily big on you, hanging off your shoulders, coming mid thigh, swallowing your entire frame, insanely comfortable. Niall looked down at what he was wearing, pulling at the material on him to get a real look. He hummed.

“Sure, I just grabbed whatever.” Niall shrugged. You couldn’t lie, it looked good on him. Everything looked good on him, almost to the point where it was annoying.

“Why does it look better on you than it does on me?” You joked. Niall rolled his eyes.

“Oh please. It’s just an old shirt.” He laughed. He leaned up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him to cuddle. Niall kissed your cheek. 

“My shirts look good on you, we look good in each others clothes.” Niall stated. 

He took the popcorn bowl out of your hands and sat it on the floor in both of your arms reach. He reached in and took a couple of pieces and shoved them in his mouth.

“What’re you waitin’ for, start the movie.” Niall motioned to the TV. You shook your head and chuckled, nuzzling closer to Niall and deeper in the blanket, pressing play on the remote and starting the movie. 

First You Fall

Maisie Dalton fixed things.  And Niall Horan was definitely broken.

Chapter 25

Maisie plodded her bare feet into her kitchen after having changed out of the suit she’d worn to Niall’s meeting.  The entire thing had taken so much out of her.  Seeing Niall again had her shook.  She didn’t realize how much he truly did hate her until she saw his eyes flash when she walked into the room.

Maisie didn’t blame him.  She’d told him she didn’t care about him, that she’d used him to get over Clarice, and then thrown the fact that he’d been in a brothel in his face.  She’d hate her too if it had been her.  Maisie had so many regrets about her life, but what she’d done to Niall far outweighed anything else.

She grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator when she heard the doorbell ring.  Hoping it was the pizza she’d ordered when she got home, she opened the door without hesitation.

Her heart hit her feet when she saw Niall standing in front of her, eyes still flashing like they had when she walked into the conference room.  He pushed past her, barging into her foyer.  The anger was echoing off of his whole body.  Maisie closed her door and turned to face him.  Niall whirled around,

“What the hell was that?”  He demanded.

“I’m sorry wh-“

“Don’t play stupid with me!”  He yelled.

Maisie had been rapidly approaching her limit of him yelling at her.  She set the bottle of water down and lifted her eyes to his,

“You shouldn’t cancel a tour just because of me.”  She said calmly.

He took a step towards her,

“I told ya t’stay outta me life!”  He yelled.

“Then don’t be a complete tool and screw up your life just so you can blame me for it!”  She yelled back, her chest heaving with deep breaths.

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“You’re Okay With Vlogging?” Part 3 - Niall Horan Imagine



“You did great, baby” you said to Niall as he got off the stage with a big smile.

“Thank you” he said, giving you a quick kiss and then pulling away just as quickly once he saw the paparazzi swarm. He slightly pushed you away, his guard grabbing him and leading him back to his green room to change for the meet and greet and another guard grabbing you a couple minutes later to bring you to him.

It was like this every night. You two were in a relationship, but said relationship HAD to be kept secret and you were getting sick of it. You knew where Niall was coming from, you knew he just wanted to protect you from hurtful things that might be thrown at you, but getting pushed away from him, barely getting to spend time with him and traveling the world and not getting to site see with your boyfriend was really getting to you.

“We need to talk” you said, walking into his dressing room, seeing him shirtless, putting you in a trance for a second before shaking yourself out of it to see Niall grinning at you.

“You good?” He asked, as he slid a new t shirt on.

“Yeah” You squinted our eyes at him, “but seriously”

“Can it wait?” He asked, grabbing his water bottle and walking over to the door.

“I rather it not” you expressed, trying to stop him from leaving.

“(Y/n), I have to get to this meet and greet” he told you, putting his hand on the door knob, “can it please wait?”

“Niall” you started really wanting to talk now, but instead he stopped you, gently grabbing your face.

“(Y/n) I love you, I truly do, but if I don’t go to this meet and greet, right now, I’m going to catch a lot of shit. Please, I promise we can talk about anything as soon as I get on the bus, but I really have to go” He enforced.

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Okay, first a note, this is loosely based on conversations I’ve had with my husband and the one time my clueless brother tried to talk me down from a panic attack. Before you attack me, these are things I deal with, I’ve dealt with, people have said to me, and things that have worked or not worked, I am by no means a medical professional and any advice should be taken with a grain of salt. This is also inspired by a few posts on @irish-nlessing this morning that reminded me of my clueless husband who once told me I looked “decent” when we were getting ready for some event I had to wear a dress for.

Also, this is my first attempt at writing and I’m not that great to be kind to me.

I don’t know how long I’m sitting here on the floor of my shared walk in closet when I hear the front door shut and then loud footsteps on the stairs leading up to my bedroom. I’m supposed to be getting ready for a dinner the record label is throwing to celebrate the release of the boys first album in 5 years.

 I met Niall during the hiatus. He had been doing his own solo tour and he came to my town and we met at a local pub after his show. I hadn’t been around the other girls that much and I was nervous about meeting them. They were all…different than me.

 “Babe, where are you at? We have to get ready. I’m gonna hop in the shower quick.” I reply that I’m getting dressed and he accepts my answer and I hear the shower running. He had been golfing all day and he was undoubtedly very sweaty, so I had a few more minutes till he was going to find me here in the closet wearing just my towel after my own shower. 

 Niall comes in and I’m pulled from my thoughts. “Why aren’t ya dressed? Why are ya on the floor? Is somethin’ wrong?” He starts to pull out his suit that his stylist had set out for him, and when I don’t move or respond, he stops, pants half buttoned. Its then that he sees the tears quietly streaming down my face.  

“What are ya cryin’ for?” he asks. “Do ya need some water or somethin’? Should I call yer ma?” I just look at my clueless boyfriend and I know he’s getting frustrated. He has no clue what to do in these situations. He sighs and sits down next to me. “I don’t wanna go.” I lean my head on his bare shoulder. “I don’t like how I look in the dress.” “Babe, you probably look fine, just… C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

He stands up and continues getting dressed. I get up and walk to the vanity and start doing my hair and makeup. “I’m sorry Ni, I just don’t feel comfortable in it.” He’s never been good at dealing with my anxiety. “I can’t just cancel cause ya don’t wanna wear a dress.”

“It’s not about the damn dress. You don’t get it. The other girls are much thinner and prettier than me. Your fans aren’t that thrilled with my entire existence as it is and I just can’t get out of my own head right now, so I am terribly sorry if I just CAN’T put it on right now.”

“I don’t frankly give a fuck what anyone else thinks about ya babe, cause the only person who matters is me and I think ya look great in sweats. I love you, they’re going to love you, and if they don’t screw ‘em. They’ve all heard a lot about you and they are so excited to finally get to know you. The boys talk about how great you are to them all the time. They already think you’re amazing.” 

 “ You’ve talked me up to be this amazing person and they are going to be massively disappointed when I show up. ”

 “What do I have to do right now to get you in this dress. Any dress, fuck I’d be happy if ya just wear that damn towel.”

 I sigh and finish my makeup. I don’t feel like doing my hair so I just comb it through  and leave it hang down my shoulders.

 “What about your meds, did ya take em?”

 “I didn’t want to cause I feel like I’m not myself.”

 “Its okay, it just helps you get out of your head. You heard your doctor, your dose is the equivalent of a glass of wine. Think of it that way.”

There’s no getting out of this, and I finally put the dress on. I quickly put on my shoes and jewelry. I walk down the stairs and my boyfriend is standing at the bottom looking like an absolute prince. “You look amazing, Ni.”

  “Yeah yeah you look great too, lets go.”

“Okay that’s not helpful. Next time try stunning, beautiful, terrific, if you can’t think of a word say speechless. Or just grab me and kiss me and that will say enough.”

 He pulls me into him and kisses my forehead. “I already told ya, I think you look fantastic in everything. And this dress was made for you. I’m sorry, I’m not tryin’ to be insensitive, I just don’t know what ya want from me today. I feel like I keep sayin’ and doin’ the wrong thing.”

“ I don’t know. Just, tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

 “Yeah yeah, I love you too, lets go.” 

 A few hours later we are in the car on the way home and he reaches over and grabs my hand and squeezes it. “You were great tonight. You had nothin’ to worry about. But, I am sorry I don’t know how to better help ya.”

“Its okay. Maybe come with me to my next appointment. The biggest thing is just be there. Don’t get angry that I’m upset and don’t put down my feelings. It may be completely irrational, but sometimes I just can’t get out of my own head.”

 “I love you, Y/N”

 “I love you, too.”