HARRY: You, Harry, and your daughter stroll the mall one Saturday afternoon, doing some shopping and just generally spending some time together. “Oh, you know what, Harry? We have to make a stop. We’ll meet you back at the food court in about half an hour?” you ask, stopping in front of Victoria’s Secret. Your daughter’s cheeks flush, embarrassed that her dad now knows what you two are about to shop for. “Uh-uh, not happening. No daughter of mine is wearing anything remotely related to what got her here in the first place,” Harry demands. You smack his shoulder. “Harry! Shh! She’s 12, she’s getting boobs, she needs a bra. A simple bra that’s totally appropriate, not to mention necessary, for someone her age,” you scold your husband. “Mom, oh my God!” your daughter grumbles from beside you. “They need to be dad-approved,” Harry insists. “I’m coming in there with you,” he says, leading the way into the store. “I hate you both so much; you’re so embarrassing,” your daughter mutters as she follows both of you into the store, hanging her head low in the hopes of no one seeing her.
ZAYN: “How many times do I have to tell you that she is growing up and needs to do more womanly things?” you snap at your husband for probably the hundredth time today. “Do not say the word ‘womanly’ in a sentence about my daughter please. There is nothing ‘womanly’ about my little girl,” Zayn argues, unwilling to face the fact that his little girl is growing up. “Oh get a grip, Zayn. It’s a bra. A bra! This is barely the first step into womanhood. Just wait until she gets her period.” “La la la! I’m not talking about this! La la la!” Zayn chants as he childishly cups his hands over his ears so as not to have to listen to your side of the conversation any longer. “Yeah, well, on that note, I’m taking her into the store now. You can just wait out here until we’re done,” you instruct, disappearing with your mortified daughter into the entrance of the store. Zayn watches you two through the window from his perch on the bench outside, cringing every time one of you picks up a bra to look at. Finally, having seen enough, he charges into the store, grabs a bra out of your hands and says, “I can’t do this. I can’t watch this happen.” You scoff. “You are so damn dramatic. Go wait in the car then while we finish up.” With that, Zayn leaves, still not thrilled with his daughter getting a bra.
LOUIS: “How about this one, Lea?” Louis asks, holding up a cute pink bra. “Dad, please stop,” she mutters, averting her gaze to another display. “This one’s nice too,” Louis carries on, ignoring his daughter’s request for him to stop. “Actually, wait a second, no one will be seeing these anyways, so why not go for the plain ones?” he mentions, moving towards those ones. “No one will be seeing these, right?” he presses, giving her a serious glare. “Why does it matter? I still want them to look cute. I’ll be seeing them.” “Oh my God, have any boys seen your bras? Has Carson seen your bras? I’m gonna kill that kid; he’s a dead man.” “Oh lighten up, Louis,” you reprimand, appearing from behind another aisle with a few choices for Lea to pick from in your hands. “They are 14 years old, nothing’s happened,” you assure him. “Nothing’s happened right?” you whisper to your daughter. “Mom! Of course not! Ew!” You sigh in relief as Louis busies himself with digging through more bras. “This is soooo awkward,” Lea groans. “Dad, can’t you go to another part of the store or something for a while? Please?” Louis hesitates for a second before saying to you, “Don’t let her get anything…you know, racy.” And with that he turns and leaves the section.
NIALL: “What’s all this?” Niall asks as you and your daughter come into the house weighed down by bags and bags of things you’d just bought on your shopping spree. “Just some stuff,” she answers nonchalantly, dropping them down onto the kitchen table and heading for her room to get changed for the birthday party she’s going to in a bit. Niall begins digging through some of the bags, checking out everything you’d just bought. “What do we have here?” he asks cheekily, pulling out one of the bras that’s in a bag. “That would be your daughter’s,” you point out through a laugh. “What?!” he gasps, dropping it as though it had burned him. “Since when does she wear those?!” “Since now. Well actually since last year, but it’s time for her to move from training bras to the real deal,” you mention offhandedly, starting to go through the bags and figure out what needs to go where. Niall runs a hand through his hair, looking pale as he says, “A bra? My daughter wears a bra now?” “Mom, you told him?!” she shrieks from somewhere behind you as she returns to the kitchen. You bite back your laughter as Niall grabs the bag of her bras, stating firmly, “I’m just gonna take these and lock them up somewhere. There’s no need for you to be a woman just yet.” Your daughter rolls her eyes and you burst out in laughter, enjoying the scene.
LIAM: While out running some errands with Liam, you swing into a lingerie store and grab a couple bras. “Uh, babe, those might be a little too small for you. Last time I checked, your boobs were much fuller than that,” he says with a chuckle, laughing over the fact that you grabbed a couple A-cup bras when it’s no secret that you are more voluptuous in the chest than that. “They aren’t for me, they’re for Makenzie.” “Makenzie? What does she need those for?” “Oh gee, I dunno, Liam. I guess she would need them to support her chest, just like every other woman in the world,” you deadpan. “My daughter doesn’t have a chest!” he hisses. “She’s a little girl! Little girls don’t have those,” he says, gesturing towards your chest. “She’s growing up, Liam. Like it or not, she is. And she needs to start doing more grown up things, like wearing a bra. The horror!” you mock. “Well what about this one?” he asks, picking up a sports bra. “What about it?” “Can’t she just wear this? It looks kind of like a small shirt.” You shoot him a look as if to say “give me a break” as you continue looking through the racks of bras in front of you and Liam sulks in the corner.
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One Direction preferenceFanfiction
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