One Direction Imagines/Preferences :) (REQUESTS CLOSED)

Zayn Imagine for @PerfectZiam

Imagine for Estelle. Hope you like it!! It's a little but late!! Sorry!!

***Estelle’s P.O.V***

One Direction and I had been friends ever since the X-Factor days. I had been one of the stylists working on the show, and I had been assigned to Simon’s team, who in turn had assigned me, along with another stylist, to One Direction. The other stylist, Evangeline, and I stayed with the boys up until they got kicked off in the finals. Truth be told, we were all devastated, even Evangeline and I. We had actually enjoyed working for the boys and Simon. All of them were down to earth and funny, not to mention extremely attractive.

But our adventure wasn’t over yet. Once Simon told the boys he was signing them, he called Evangeline and I into his office and told us we were going to permanently be One Direction’s stylists, under the guidance of Lou Teasedale. Evangeline and I were thrilled, and we immediately raced to let the guys know.

So here the seven of us were, three years later and chilling in a house that all of us shared. The house was huge, and it cost the boys a fortune. It was four stories tall. The top floor was the indoor pool, and on the third floor, there was a gym and a game room. The second floor had ten bedrooms, one for each of us and three left over for guests and what not. The first floor was basically the kitchen, dining room, and living room. If you just took into account the first two floors, it was just like a normal house. Then you reached the arcade, gym, and pool, and things got a little less normal for the average homeowner.

“I’m bored,” Niall whined. He flopped down onto the couch and groaned. “We need to do something!”

“Do you want to go swimming?” Liam suggested, putting down his phone to look at Niall. The Irish boy shrugged, and the rest of us followed suit. “Okay, then, go get your suits and we’ll meet here.”

Evangeline and I hiked the stairs to go pick out bikinis. I was about to enter my room when Evangeline pushed me to the side and bolted over to my drawer. “Eva, what the hell?”

“I’m picking out your suit,” she declared.

“I think I am perfectly capable of choosing my own bathing suit,” I muttered.

“Knowing you, you’ll pick out this mismatched one or something. You want to look cute for Zayn, don’t you?” she smirked at me, ruffling through my bikini drawer.

“What?” I asked, startled.