HARRY: You’re cleaning the house one Saturday afternoon when Harry walks in after running a couple errands. Hoping to help make your chores a bit more bearable, he turns on some of your favorite music to dance to. By the time he enters the bathroom that you’re working in, you’re already dancing as you work. Harry is quick to jump in and join you, picking up a roll of paper towels and tossing it into the air like streamers. “Harry!” you scold, turning around to face him completely. He ignores your reprimand and takes you up in his arms, dancing and singing along to the music. The song changes and your annoyed mood instantly lifts. “Oh, this is my jam!” you exclaim happily, busting out a few of your favorite dance moves. Harry busts out a few of his own, and you have an impromtu dance-off. In the tight quarters of the bathroom, you misjudge your personal space and end up hitting Harry right in the family jewels. “Oh my God!” you gasp as soon as it happens, and Harry groans and doubles over. You can’t help the little giggle that escapes through your lips. “It’s not funny!” Harry croaks out. “Consider it karma for the paper towels,” you say smugly. “Do you need me to get you some ice?” you offer. “Ooohh,” Harry groans in repsonse, causing you to laugh once more.
LIAM: You’re home alone, making some dinner for yourself with the TV turned up loud enough so you can hear it from the living room. You’re quoting along parts of your favorite show, as you’d seen the episode enough to know exactly what’s going on. Suddenly, you feel two strong arms wrap around your shoulders and chest. Out of instinct, you elbow the person in the stomach and then punch him in the groin. You hear Liam’s voice yell out in pain and you turn around to see your boyfriend doubled over, a grimace on his face. “Why would you do that?” he gasps out. “I thought you were someone who’d broken in! What are you doing home anyways - you weren’t supposed to be back for several more hours!” “Change of plans,” is all he can say by way of explanation. “So, uh, is little Liam ok?” you venture to ask. Liam glares at you. “All I have to say to you is that those were your future children, but I think you just killed them all.” You gush at this. “Liam, did you just say you wanted to have children with me??” “Doesn’t matter. Thanks to you I can’t now even if I wanted to.” You laugh and go to the freezer to fetch him some ice so he’ll quit his whining.
LOUIS: You’re sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels in the hopes of finding something good to watch, when out of nowhere, your manchild boyfriend leaps over the back of the couch and ambushes you in a tickle fight. “Lou! Lou! Stop it! No, please, I can’t!” you gasp out through fits of laughter. He doesn’t let up, straddling your legs as you squirm and try to get away. The more he tickles, the more frantic your escape attempt becomes. You use your foot to try to push yourself out from under him - in the process, succesfully kneeing him right in his manhood. “Oooo…my balls,” he says in a voice comparable to Minnie Mouse’s. You try to hold back a laugh but are failing miserably. “It’s your own fault for starting this up,” you point out. Louis flops his entire body down on top of you, pinning you to the couch, his hands cupping his crotch, making you laugh harder. “Get off of me,” you tell him, trying to push him off. “I can’t breathe,” you inform him, despite being able to laugh still. “Neither can I!” Louis shoots back, causing you to laugh harder as he lays there on top of you, waiting for the ache to subside.
ZAYN: Your ring is stuck on your finger and you’re struggling to get it off - the more ou tug, the more difficult it seems to get, but you’re determined to get it off. “Ok, this whole swelling thing can be done anytime now!” you grumble angrily. “You should have taken the ring off a couple weeks ago before you got so swollen. You know everything swells when you’re pregnant,” Zayn points out. “Don’t even start with me!” you snap, still yanking on your stuck ring. “Here, let me help you,” Zayn prompts, stepping forward to try to help. From your seat on the couch, you duck away, not wanting his help after his comment. He reaches forward, to try to pry your hands away from your chest so he can give it a try. “Zayn, cut it out, let me do it,” you argue, jerking your hands away from him. He stands next to you, watching you tug and pull on your ring before it finally pops off, causing your arm to thrust back at the release of the pressure. Your elbow hits him square in the package. His hands go there immediately as he drops to his knees dramatically. “Oh, man up. In a matter of a few months I’m gonna have a watermelon shoot through a hole the size of a lemon - what you feel right now is nothing compared to that,” you state unsympathetically. Zayn just looks at you, silently pleading for your pity. You lean in close as though you are about to kiss him, but instead whisper, “Next time you should lose the ‘told you so’ attitude and maybe then you’d get coddled.” You wink at him before rising to your feet to place your ring in the jewelry box, leaving Zayn to moan on the floor.
NIALL: “Just shoot the ball,” Niall says, verging on complaining. The two of you are out in the backyard, kicking around a soccer ball as a way to kill an afternoon. He’s standing between a tree and one of your lawn chairs as a means of a makeshift goal. “You know my aim is horrible! I’ll end up hitting you in face or something.” “[Y/N], shoot the stupid ball,” Niall states firmly. You sigh and give the ball a big kick. Instead of hitting him in the face, you manage to aim straight for his crotch. You let out a quick yelp when you realize what had happened. “See? I told you this wouldn’t end well!” you accuse. Niall is doubled over, but manages to lift his hand and give you a thumbs up. “Nice job, baby,” he tells you, and you can’t tell if he’s honestly praising you or being sarcastic. “Want me to get you some ice?” you question, feeling terrible and helpless. He shakes his head to affirm the negative and you take a step closer to him. After a few minutes of Niall making inhuman noises, he finally manages to stand straight up again and take a breath. “You gonna be ok?” you ask. He nods. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. But you are never allowed to take a shot when I’m in the goal again.” “You told me to!” you defend. Niall just chuckles and pulls you in to give you a sort of goofy bear hug, causing you to laugh.
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One Direction preferenceFanfiction
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