One Direction Preferences!!

He flirts with you in High-School

Harry: “Put me down you big oaf!” you yell as Harry (the devilishly handsome, extremely charming, and most popular guy at your school) parades you around on his shoulder. Seconds ago you had been minding you own business, sorting out the textbooks that you needed for anthro when Harry and come swooping in and captured you, hoisting you up above his and everybody’s heads. “I’m going to be late and you know that M. Michel hates when people are even a second late!” you shout, lightly smacking the top of his head. “Only if you say that I’m the sexiest man you’ve ever seen and we’re going to have a lot of babies!” he replies, pretending to wobble on his feet and causing you to grip tighter to his raised arms. “THIS BOY RIGHT HERE IS THE SEXIEST MAN ALIVE AND WE’RE GOING TO HAVE AN OBSCENE AMOUNT OF BABIES!” you shout, desperate to not only reach solid ground, but also get to class on time. Harry laughs and places you back on the ground, handing you the book bag that had fallen off your shoulder in the process of being thrown over Harry’s (muscular and perfectly sculpted) shoulder. “Let me walk you to class. I mean we might as well spend some time together if we’re going to be raising children together.” Harry says, grabbing his own backpack and walking with you towards your anthropology class.

Louis: “Watch out boys. Y/N’s on fire!” Louis (the devilishly handsome, extremely charming, and most popular guy at your school) says to his friends, but looking at you. Today in Chem the class is doing a lab project that involves Bunsen burners. You’re lighting one and Louis, being Louis, just had to comment on it. “Oh shove a sock in it.” you reply, rolling your eyes and smiling good-naturedly. Louis clutches his chest and reels back in mock pain. “Ouch girl, you just broke my heart!” he whisper-shouts, to avoid being scolded by the army-general prof. “Aw, does pour little Louis need a hug?” you ask, pouting and making your eyes look concerned. Louis simply nods and wraps you up in his arms, keeping them above your waist because you aren’t really dating. “Alright enough of this shit. Let’s blow some stuff up!” Louis yells, turning around to pour anything and everything into the flame.

Liam: “Psssst. Liam can I borrow a pencil?” you ask turning around to face Liam (the devilishly handsome, extremely charming, and most popular guy at your school). “Yea, but it’s gonna cost you.” he replies, smirking as an outward display of the evil plan forming in his head. Liam taps the pencil against your hand that’s resting on his desk. You don’t move away. “Cost me hmm? Well what are we talking?” You reply, going along with the entire silly idea even though you can borrow a pencil from anyone in the class. He moves the tapping pencil up so it’s bouncing up and down on your forearm. “I’m proposing that you buy me a cupcake tomorrow at lunch. That’s a fair deal.” He replies, smiling at the thought of the local bakery’s delicious three-dollar cupcakes. You pretend to ponder this for a moment before snatching the pencil from his hand and saying “deal.” you turn around and continue the math worksheet, failing at the battle of trying not to blush.

Niall: “Hey babe! Coming to our game tonight?” Niall (the devilishly handsome, extremely charming, and most popular guy at your school) asks, taking a seat on your desk where you previously had been writing. Niall is one of the starters on your school’s soccer team; he always has flocks of girls and guys cheering him and the team on. “Maybe Niall. It depends on how far I get on my business project tonight.” You reply, raising an eyebrow and shrugging your shoulders. “Oh come on! You’re our good luck charm babe!” He shouts, earning himself an evil glare from the teacher. “Oh hush. You’re team is best in the district!” You reply while trying to shove him off of your desk. “Only because you come to every one of our games.” He answers, snatching your hands up in his and kissing them in an overly-cliché way. You laugh and yank your hands away. “Fine, now can I get back to my work?” You ask, mock-annoyed. “YES! We’re gonna win!” Niall shouts, throwing both fists in the air, returning to his seat before the teacher can scold him.

Zayn: “Gosh y/n you’re such a teachers pet!” Zayn (the devilishly handsome, extremely charming, and most popular guy at your school) whispers beside your ear. You had just answered yet another question regarding the translation of verbs in your French class. “Oh piss off.” You reply, not looking at him and keeping your attention focused on the blackboard in the front of the class. Zayn is leaning forward with his elbows resting on the back of your chair and his mouth right next to your right ear. “How do you even know all of the answers?” He asks, resting his chin on your shoulder playfully. “It’s this fancy thing called studying. You should try it.” You reply, raising your eyebrows and turning to face him. “Oh and get off me.” You say, rolling your shoulder to get his face to slide off. “Feisty.” He answers, before jabbing two of his fingers into your sides and causing you to squeal, followed by some extreme blushing. “Piss. Off. Malik.” You say through gritted teeth, but it’s hard to come off as scary when you can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “You know you love me.” Zayn replies, before sliding back in his seat and pretending to pay attention to the teacher.