Niall Horan Imagines and Preferences

Finally, Some Luck

You let out a deep sigh as you stared at the email on your screen. Your fingers hovered over the mouse, hesitant to open it. After months—no, years—of rejection emails, you weren’t sure if you could take another one.

Dear [Y/N],

Your heart pounded as your eyes darted over the first few words. You forced yourself to keep reading.

We’re pleased to offer you an internship position at—

A shriek escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You clapped a hand over your mouth, rereading the email just to make sure you weren’t imagining things. After all the times you had been turned down, all the times you had come so close only to be rejected, you had finally done it. You had an internship.

Without thinking, you grabbed your phone and dialed the first person that came to mind—Niall.

It rang twice before his voice filled your ears, warm and familiar. “Hey, love. What’s up?”

You were practically bouncing in place. “I got it! Niall, I actually got it!”

There was a pause, and then his voice lifted with excitement. “Wait, are you serious? Babe, that’s amazing! I knew you’d get one eventually!”

You grinned, feeling your chest swell with relief and happiness. “I honestly thought I was cursed. I was starting to think I’d never catch a break.”

“No way,” Niall said firmly. “You’ve been working your ass off. This was bound to happen.”

You exhaled, still processing it. “I just… I don’t even know what to do with myself right now. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

“Well,” Niall said, his tone turning playful, “you’re gonna celebrate, that’s what you’re gonna do.”

You laughed. “Celebrate how?”

“Leave that to me,” he said mysteriously. “Be ready by seven.”

Before you could protest, he hung up. You stared at your phone, smiling. If anyone knew how to turn a small victory into something unforgettable, it was Niall.

—

That evening, you slipped into your favorite outfit, still buzzing with excitement. At exactly seven, your doorbell rang.

You opened it to find Niall standing there, grinning at you, holding a bouquet of flowers. “For the woman of the hour,” he said, handing them to you.

Your heart melted. “Niall, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I absolutely did,” he insisted. “Now, come on.”

He led you outside to his car, and you soon realized he had planned a full evening for you. The first stop was a cozy little restaurant you had both been meaning to try. Over dinner, he let you ramble on about the internship, asking questions and making you feel like the most important person in the world.

After dinner, he took you to a rooftop overlooking the city. Fairy lights twinkled, and soft music played in the background.

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Did you plan all of this?”

He shrugged, a cheeky smile on his lips. “You deserve it. You worked so hard for this, and I want you to remember this night forever.”

You felt a lump in your throat. “Niall…”

He reached for your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I know how much this means to you. I’ve seen you struggle, seen you doubt yourself, but you never gave up. That’s what makes you incredible.”

Tears stung your eyes, but they were the good kind. The kind that came from feeling loved and seen. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He smiled. “Then don’t say anything. Just dance with me.”

And so, under the soft glow of the city lights, you let him pull you close, swaying to the music. The past few months of stress and rejection faded away, replaced by warmth, hope, and the knowledge that no matter what, Niall would always be there to celebrate your victories—big or small.