Random Imagines {REQUESTS ON HOLD}

Niall Horan (fluff)

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The bar was quiet when you walked in the back. Jake, the bartender, was sitting behind the bar with the 'community bottle' as everyone who worked there called it. Your boss always let the night shift pick a bottle to drink from throughout the night. Irish bars were no fun unless you were semi-drunk. Of course Irish bars were no fun on Tuesday nights either, especially when it was snowing and everyone was snowed in.

"J, I can cover t'night. Go home. I'm sure Annie would love it." He looked up and pursed his lips.

"Don't tell me it's taking anything from me. It ain't like I'm getting paid anyway," you laughed, taking the bottle and pulling him to his feet. He sighed and gave you a quick hug.

"See you tomorrow," you called.

"Tell your uncle that I left early!" He called, grabbing his jacket.

"Nope," you replied, tying your apron around your waist. Seeing as no one was at the bar and it didn't seem like anyone was coming in, you grabbed some of your homework and sat in the back reading. Your parents had to move away for work when you were fifteen, leaving with your uncle and aunt, who owned the bar. They were great and paid for most things you wanted, which you repaid them for with working in the bar. Until you were seventeen you worked as a waitress for the food only, but as soon as you turned eighteen you started behind the counter. Seeing as your aunt and uncle had no kids and no one to give the bar to it was going to be yours as soon as it could legally be yours, but for the time being you were taking courses at a nearby university.

"Hello? Anyone here? I need a beer!" A voice called. You swore you'd heard it before, but you'd heard everybody that Mullingar had to offer, kids and adults alike. The rudeness level was never that high, even on a bad day, so you continued on your homework for another minute, being deliberately loud in flipping pages.

"Hey, can I get a beer?" The voice called again.

"Not with those manners, no," you replied.

"Awe, c'mon! My car broke down a mile out and no one else was open!" You tried to piece together a voice with a face while walking to the front, but didn't have to when you got out front.

"Fuck you. No, you can't have a damn beer," you hissed. Niall Horan was sitting at the counter, his fake blond hair covered in water droplets and pop star clothes wet. He was shivering and the skin behind his sun freckles was tinted blue.

"You can't hate me that much!" He exclaimed.

"No, you dumbass. Number one: you've be driving. Number two: Cause freezing out and if you drink a beer your gonna freeze. Number three: a damn phone call every few months can't kill." He groaned and slumped over.

"But I won't deny you a coffee or a cocoa."

"A cocoa, and some of the onion rings your aunt makes if you've got any. I've been craving them for months." You laughed and turned on the coffee pot without a filter in it, heading into the back to turn on the fryer. When you got back with the rings there were two cups of cocoa on the bar. Niall gobbled down the rings, which were still hot, and then turned to you.

"So beer girl, what's the gossip around here." You frowned at your pet name and shrugged.

"You mostly. Usual things. Divorces, marriages, kids. Pretty much nothing exciting. What about you in the real world?"

"This is the real world. That, whatever that is, is just a lot of fake. Fake smiles, fake clothes, fake boobs," he said. You laughed and took a sip of the cocoa. It had whiskey in it. You raised and eyebrow and he shrugged.