Niall Horan Imagines and Preferences

He's Sick

"Baby," a whine echoes through the hall. You groan and fold the corner in your book. You couldn't get through two pages without hearing the siren that is a sick Niall Horan.

"Coming," you yell, your face growing hot with annoyance. You trudge down the hall to find Niall lying in the same spot he was ten minutes before, but this time he was sitting up with and outreached hand that seemed to be reaching for something. "What is it love?"

"Y/N can you pass me the remote? I wanna play FIFA," Niall asks, his blue eyes doing that twinkly thing that made you do whatever he asked. But this time you are tired, annoyed, and wishing to just finish the book you've been trying to read all day. Your vision moves to the PS3 remote perched at the edge of the bed, that with little to no effort, Niall could get on his own. He was always like this when he was sick, and it was cute at the beginning but it was not so cute now.

"Niall are you fucking kidding me," you snap, seeing his arm fall to his side in shock. "I know you're sick and all, but you have a cold, you didn't have surgery. Stop being a lazy fuck and get the damn remote yourself," you explain, trying to be patient and keep your voice low. "I love you, but if you call me in here one more time, I will murder you." You turn on your heels and stomp down to your perch on the chair, flipping your book open.

"Baby," you hear again, making your face go red from fury just as you read the first word.

"WHAT," you nearly scream in reply, not even bothering to stand.

"I'm sorry, can you come cuddle with me" you hear from the bedroom. You smile to yourself and walk back to your sick boyfriend

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