One Direction Preferences

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Harry: “What do you expect, (Y/N)?” Harry screamed at you, his arms in the air. “They are my fans. I have to make them happy!” “Making them happy doesn’t mean you have to undress them with your eyes! Harry, god, I was standing right there next to you!” You paced the room, your hands pulling at your hair. “How would you like it if I did that to every guy I saw when you were with me?” You walked over to him, your voice mimicking his. “Oh, let me just remove your shirt in front of my girlfriend. .” He didn’t say anything for the longest time, his eyes looking glassy. “Damn Harry, are you even listening to me?” You shook your head, ready to walk away when he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards his, his lips crashing against yours. His lips worked against you, his hands already pulling your shirt over your head. He pulled away, his lips swollen, his hair a mess from your hands. “I like it when you get mad.” You rolled your eyes. “I guess we are done fighting.” He removed his shirt and your eyes traveled down to his hips. When you looked back up at him, he winked and nodded his head. “Definitely.” 

Louis: Louis and you stood facing each other, faces red, arms crossed. Neither of you said anything, you just watched each other. You just had a full on screaming fight about the stupidest thing you could ever imagine: Where to go to dinner. First it had started off calm, at first you were only annoyed but then Louis kept insisting that you go to a high-end place. You retaliated by semi calmly reminding him that it wasn’t your scene, but he kept on insisting. He fired back that you were a cheap date.  You got so mad, you actually threw a phone at his head. So now you were standing, staring each other down, neither one backing down. He narrowed his eyes before dropping his hands to his side and grabbing your coats. “Fine, (Y/N), you win.. again.” You loosened up and smiled, skipping over to him and kissing his cheek before grabbing your coat from his hands and walking out the door.

Liam:  You were still curled up in a ball whenever Liam got home. You hadn’t moved since that morning when Liam and you had a full on fight. He was upset you  wouldn’t take a few weeks off of school to go on tour with him and you were upset that he thought that you would. It got to the point where he called you a ‘selfish bitch’ and you called him an ‘arrogant asshole’; words you had never used with each other. He left the apartment quickly, saying he needed sometime to review the relationship, leaving you to contemplate what that meant. You spent eight hours going over the fight, hundreds of times and you were so scared that he was going to leave, you had made yourself sick several times. You heard the door open and felt Liam’s body fall onto the bed next to you. His wrapped his arms carefully around you, his lips pressing into the crook of your neck. He laid there for a few moments before speaking. “I understand that you can’t take off of school. I’m sorry, love. I should have never suggested it.” 

Niall: You sat on the balcony of your flat, a drink in hand. You were still fuming from the fight that Niall and you had that morning. It had been five hours since he left, his last words something along the lines of ‘quit being a bitch’, then the slamming of the door. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember what the fight had been about, but you knew that it was stupid. When he finally came home, it was dark outside and you were reading a book in bed. He pushed the door open, peaking his head in. “I brought food.” You brought the book down to your lap and pursed your lips, pushing your glasses up your face. “What kind of food?” you asked in a tentative voice. He tried hard to keep a smile off his lips, but you could see it tugging at the corners. “Italian.” You nodded your head calmly and set the book down, standing up. “I guess that works.”

Zayn: It was your first big fight with Zayn and he had just walked out of the door. Your stomach felt tight and your head was spinning. You had no idea if he was going to come back. You ran a hand through your hair, your breaths becoming short. The tears were blurring your vision and your ears were ringing when you heard the door open. Zayn walked over to you, bringing you into his arms and placing kisses all over your face. You took several deep, shaky breaths before he placed his hands on either side of your face. “If you want to stay in New York to finish school, that’s fine. I will stay with you.” When you started to ask about the band, he shook his head and ran his thumb under your eye, wiping the falling tears away. “I’ll make it work. I am behind you one-hundred percent. Forever.”

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