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One Direction Preferences


Niall: "(Y/N), Wait up!" You look around, pausing in your walk to the oval where you're small group of friends are sitting, searching for who's calling your name. "(Y/N)!" Niall Horan is jogging over to you, and you take a second to admire how his hair's shining in the sunlight, before turning around again, because it couldn't possibly be Niall calling you. "Hey." Someone stops beside you, and you glance to your right, before promptly tripping over a twig, stumbling forward, although Niall grabs your arm, steadying you. "Whoa, you okay?" "I, yeah, I'm fine." He grins, and lets go. "Good, so where are we going?" "Um... to the oval?" "Cool." He seems happy to walk beside you, and you continue on in silence for a bit, before you break it, "I'm sorry, but, is this a prank or something?" He looks over, stopping, brow furrowed, "Why would it be a prank?" "Well, we don't really talk. And you're popular. And I'm. Well. Not." He smiles, "And? You seem really nice, and I'm kinda bored of talking about the football team, so I thought I'd hang out with you for a bit." "Thanks," you mumble, and he laughs, "No worries, (Y/N). It doesn't hurt that you're absolutely gorgeous either."

Harry: "(Y/N)! Hey, (Y/N)!" You recognise the voice immediately, but don't turn around, instead continuing to hurry to your next class, books clutched to your chest, hoping that he'll get bored and drop it. "Hey," a big hand lands on your shoulder, jerking you around a bit too quickly. "Oh my god, sorry, I didn't mean to pull you that hard." "It's - It's okay," you stammer, not meeting his eyes. "Didn't you hear me calling?" Harry says, peering down at you, and you suddenly find your shoes very interesting, shrugging, acutely aware of the people passing you, whispering together and staring, because, really, why does Harry even know your name. "Anyway, what's your next class? I'll walk you to it." "Oh, no. It's okay." "No, really, it's fine. I want to talk to you about something." You lick your lips nervously, but nod, beginning to walk again while Harry follows along beside you. "So, we've got this dance coming up, right?" You nod, again, chewing on your tongue. "And I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?" You choke slightly, nearly tripping over your own feet as you turn to him, "I'm sorry?" He smiles, bright and beaming. "Do you want to go to the dance with me?" "With - With me?" He laughs, "Yes, with you." "Are you sure?" He smiles, "Positive." You blink, and he nibbles on his thumb nail, "What do you think?" "I - I - Of course."

Liam: You and Liam grew up together, and when you made the move to High School, he got really popular and you, well, you didn't. And, hey, you know what? You don't really mind. You've got a good group of friends who have got your back no matter what, and it doesn't really matter that people don't wish they were you, or gossip about you, or try and date you, it was all overrated anyway, you were quite happy with it all. You and Liam didn't really talk much anymore, which sucked, except for the occasional times when the weather was good and the two of you would walk home together. Like today, you can see him a few metres ahead of you, and when you're positive no one else is around, you jog forward, quickly catching up with him. "Li, hey." He looks up, brown eyes immediately crinkling as he lips split into a smile, "Hi. I didn't see you." You shrug, and the two of you fall silent, continuing to walk through the familiar neighbourhood. "Hey, (Y/N), I've been thinking about, like, stuff." You hum quietly, encouraging him to continue, and he rubs his mouth with the back of his self consciously, "We've known each other for awhile, and I can like, trust you, right?" You nod, and smile at him, tugging your rucksack higher on your back, "And I... I just think, like, maybe I like you?" You laugh, "I like you, too, Liam. Thanks." He blushes, and shakes his head, "No, I mean like, I really, really like you." You blink, and stop, causing him to halt as well, turning around to look at you, eyes worried, "Is that okay?" You smile, soft and slow, "More than okay."

Louis: And for this reason only, no one knows how on earth you and Louis got together. Sure you're pretty, the boys admit (it takes the girls a bit longer to say anything like that) and kind and sweet, but well, you're not that high on the social ladder, preferring to hang out with your small group of friends that, according to Layla, one of the popular girls in school, are nerds. So, when Louis passes you in the hall one day and wheels around to catch up with you, kissing your cheek and grabbing your books, walking you to your next class, the two of you seeming so at ease and comfortable with each other, it sends quite a few shock waves through the student body, the fact that Louis, golden boy, hot, funny, nice, soccer star, is suddenly dating little old you, quite astonishing. But, it's happened, and Louis wouldn't trade you for the world.

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