One Direction Preferences

He Thinks He's Not Good Enough for You

Liam: "I love you." "No you don’t." He shook his head and turned away from you. "But I do." He reached up and jerked his hands through his hair. "No, Y/N, you don’t! You can’t! I’m not good enough for you!" In the silent seconds that followed, you walked around him, grabbing onto his wrists and pulling his hands away from his face. "But I do love you, Liam. There’s no reason I shouldn’t. You’re everything I ever wanted and more." He still continued to shake his head, but murmured the words, "I love you too."

Niall: It wasn’t once or twice or even a dozen times that you’d just caught him staring at you in wonder while you did the most menial of tasks. Reading a book, eating, cooking dinner, brushing your hair, or putting on makeup. “Why do you do that?” You finally asked one day when his blue eyes were just watching you eat popcorn as you sat beside him watching TV. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I ever get someone as beautiful as you?” His voice was hushed and his eyes sparkled brightly. “Why’d you settle for someone like me?” He asked, reaching over to take your hand and fiddle with the diamond ring that glistened there. “It wasn’t a tough choice, Ni. You’re more beautiful than me, believe it or not.” He laughed, kissing your knuckles and pulling you closer to him.

Zayn: You were a good girl when he met you. Never touched a drop of alcohol, done any form of smoking or drugs at all, and you didn’t swear or have tattoos. Zayn looked at you like you were an angel coming to him with the secrets of life and no one could understand why, including yourself. You were just a normal girl, nothing extraordinary about you at all, but you’d caught his eye one day and he’d fought his hardest to get you to say yes to a date with him. All the time, when you’d first become official the interviewers would ask the customary question about “who’s got a girlfriend” and he’d raise his hand shyly and say that he wasn’t sure why you agreed to date him, you’re beautiful and he’s Zen. Sometimes when he’s around you he forgets that he looks like a Greek God that got lost on the way from backstage to the runway.

Harry: It was about seven months or so into the relationship and it was a calm day off for him, so you were spending that precious time with him. Your head was on his chest and his arms wrapped around you as you both just laid there in bed, not saying anything but happy to have the other’s company. “How can you stand me, Y/N? I’m never home and we only see each other once every three months. Why do you stay with me?” His heartbeat was heavy under your ear, so you sat up so that you could look into his eyes. “I love you. I don’t mind that you’re gone so much because I know that it’s so that you can continue living your dream and making millions of girls around the world happy. I’m just one girl, but there’s so many more out there that need you more, so I’m fine with that. Anyway, there’s that one saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder.’” He smiled widely, pulling you back down to his lips. They lightly ghosted over yours as he whispered, “What did I do to deserve someone as understanding as you?” 

Louis: He was swearing and kicking every solid surface he could. You were staying out of his way, knowing how he got when something didn’t go anywhere near as planned. The charity game he’d just organized again had just gone terribly, terribly wrong and his team’s coach had sent him back to the locker room where you found him pacing. “I fucked up! How am I ever going to do anything again?” He slammed his toes against a locker door, leaving a dent and a hopping, swearing-even-more-than-before Louis. “Hey,” you pushed him over to a bench. “Calm down, Lou. It wasn’t your fault. It was the other guy.” You pulled his shoe off his foot and looked at his toes, already beginning to swell. “Well, I think you might’ve broken a toe or two. Now, you really won’t be able to play well for a while.”  He groaned and threw his head back. “I’m such a screw-up. I can’t fucking play football, I can’t sing half the damn time, and then I just go and break my toes!” He ripped his fingers through his hair in frustration and you moved to sit beside him. “You can leave me, Y/N and I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Why would you want such a mess as your boyfriend?” You laughed and turned his head to face you. “You’re not a screw-up. You’re perfect, stop putting yourself down like that. You’re a great singer, great football player, and you’ve always got me for as long as you want me.” The smile that you loved so much appeared on his face,  and he went in for a kiss. “Love you, Y/N.”