One Direction Preferences

You Argue & He Scares You

You Argue & He Scares You

Louis: “Well maybe if you didn’t go out with her all the time, it wouldn’t be such a damn problem!” You screamed in frustration, running a hand through your hair and trying to keep your voice down. Louis had been repeatedly photographed out with Eleanor, to the point where you were worried that he was cheating on you. “DAMN IT, [Y/N]!” Louis finally screamed, after remaining silent for most of the argument. You took a step back, your blood running cold at the sharp, metallic sound of his voice. His blue eyes narrowed and went almost black, and he stormed over to you, leaning into your face, “IF YOU DON’T TRUST ME, THE DOOR’S RIGHT THERE!” You shuddered away, turning your face from him, biting your lip as tears threatened to fall. You took in a sharp breath, taking a few steps back, shaking your head, “I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, L-lou…” You turned around quickly and darted up the stairs before you could look at him, collapsing into your bed and pulling the duvet around you, hiding. You heard his padded footsteps a few minutes later, and you shivered as he pulled the duvet down. You looked up timidly, his eyes rimmed with tears, “I’m… I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” he whispered, “I should’ve never yelled at you like that. I should’ve never have scared you.” You nodded, still a little cautious. “Can I come in?” He nodded to the bed, and you scooted over, feeling his warm arms encompassing you a minute later. You let out a deep sigh of contentment, cuddling into his side, forgiven. 

Niall: “Come on, Niall,” you groaned as you felt his hands grip your waist and attempt to tug you out of the kitchen, “Not tonight.” You were angry that Niall had gotten home three hours later than he had promised, and he had come home tipsy. Not full out drunk, but just intoxicated enough to piss you off and make his judgement cloudy. “C’mon, beautiful,” he slurred, biting at your neck a little too harshly. “Niall!” You jumped a little bit, trying to shrug him off, “Stop it, that hurts.” Niall’s eyes flashed a darker shade, his grip tightened on your waist before shoving you away from him. “FUCK IT, [Y/N],” he suddenly roared, his complexion totally changing into an angry rage, sending chills down your spine. “YOU’RE BEING SUCH A BITCH!” He was yelling at the top of his lungs, turning around and knocking pots full of food off the stove with a resounding cacophony of noise. You shrunk back in fear, burrowing yourself into the corner and starting to cry. There was a few seconds of silence, and you took a shaky breath and turned around, finding Niall sitting on the floor of the kitchen, head in his hands. You decided to take the opportunity to try and retreat, but he stopped you. “[Y/N],” his voice croaked, “Please… please don’t go, angel. I am… I am so sorry.” You stood in the entryway to the kitchen, “You scared me.” Niall stood up slowly, extending a hand out to you, “I know I did. And that was bloody awful, I should never be the man to do that,” he teared up a bit, “Please. Please don’t hate me.” There were a few seconds of silence before you nodded, “I don’t hate you.” Niall moved closer to you, and when you didn’t move back, pulled you into a tight embrace. “I love you,” he murmured out, “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

Liam: “I don’t know why we’re arguing about this again…,” you sighed, shoving a few toys away into a bin as you cleaned up. You and Liam were having the age old argument of ‘who worked harder’. You were stuck at home with your seven month old, Aiden, and were most of the time alone with an infant when Liam went on tour. But Liam had to go on tours, work long rehearsal hours, and didn’t necessarily want to get up six times a night with an infant when he finally got into bed. “I just get tired,” you whimpered out, wiping out some tears and shoving the toys away. “TIRED?” Liam suddenly roared, jumping up from the couch, “HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON TOUR? GOD, [Y/N], HE NAPS ALL DAY! You’re so fuckin’ lazy.” You pulled back in fear, Liam’s sudden switch in countenance and look in his eyes terrifying you. There were a few moments of purely terrifying silence as Liam’s chest heaved up and down, and you felt the last of your strongholds go down when you heard Aiden crying, woken up by Liam. You let out a little whimper, exhausted, and now afraid of your own husband, and attempted to skirt around him and go get your baby. You jumped a little when you felt a hand on your wrist, turning to see a red-eyed Liam. “My god,” he whispered, his throat hoarse, “I’m the biggest of… the biggest of jackasses. I’m going to go get him, alright?” He pulled you close to him, and you let out a long sigh, feeling the warmth of his chest. “Go to bed,” he murmured, “I’m come in when I’m done with Aiden.” 

Harry: “Don’t say it, [Y/N],” Harry’s voice was a low growl, both of you having reached the end of your rope, standing off, staring at each other in the living room. You and Harry had been at each other’s throats for weeks, and with his tour schedule, you hadn’t had any time to reconnect or try and fix your relationship. It had seemingly come to head, finally, and you were in the middle of a massive fight, neither of you knowing how it started or how it ended. You glared at him, your eyes narrowing, and you spat it out, “I hate you.” You didn’t know what happened next, you just felt your back hit the wall and you found Harry’s face a mere inch from yours. His eyes were narrowed into practically slits, dark with anger, his entire face red and his muscles twitching. “WHAT THE HELL DID I SAY?” He was yelling at the top of his voice, barely an inch from you. You turned your face from him, shaking and you slid down the wall, a desperate attempt to get away from him. You quickly tucked yourself into your knees, your back shaking and your head burrowed into your arms. You heard angry, storming footsteps, then the slam of a door that seemed to shake the house. After a few moments of silence, you quickly picked yourself up and ran to the bedroom, ducking into bed, crying yourself to sleep. A few hours later, you woke up and stirred when you felt the mattress dip under weight. “[Y/N]?” Harry’s rough voice murmured, his large hand tracing your back, “I’m so, so sorry, baby. I should’ve never have scared you… Please…” You turned around to face him, your eyes red and still a little shaky. Harry held one arm up, beckoning you to his chest with a hopeful look on his face. You practically dived into his embrace, both of you knowing the relationship would work as long as you both wanted it to. 

Zayn: “I don’t want to hear it,” Zayn snapped as soon as he crossed the threshold, throwing his bag down on the floor. He was hours late for your anniversary dinner, and after missing a birthday last month, he wasn’t on good terms. You said nothing, and didn’t even look at him as you blew out the dripping candles on the table. Zayn grunted and went into the kitchen, opening and slamming cabinets, trying to find the leftovers from the dinner you’d obviously prepared. “Where’s dinner?” He snapped, sticking his head out of the kitchen. “I threw it away,” you said calmly, still not looking at him, “I didn’t know when you’d be coming home next.” You turned away and headed to your room, only to be stopped by a very angry, enraged Zayn blocking your way. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, his voice low and threatening, muscles tightening throughout his body, “Go make me something.” “No!” You spat back, shoving against his chest futilely. He gripped your wrists tightly, making you wince, and got directly in your face, now screaming, “WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” Your whole body started to tremble, fear reflecting in your now tear filled eyes as you could only nod your head up and down. You looked away, crying gently as you waited for Zayn to release you. But when he did, it was only for a second before he crushed you back to his chest. “Oh god,” he murmured, letting you cry into his shirt, “I’m a jackass… god, [Y/N]… Please, I don’t know what came over me,” he rubbed soothing circles on your back, “I’m so sorry. Can I… can I order some take out? For the both of us?” You looked up and nodded, putting your head back on his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, kissing the top of your head, “Do you forgive me?” You wrapped your arms back around him and squeezed lightly, “I do.” 

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