One direction and 5 Seconds of Summer preferences and images

High School Lovers

Harry: "Hello," he hummed once his lips pressed against your ear. His voice was low, rugged underneath the faint chatter of passing students and you swore you could feel the smile tug on the corners of his lips. Harry's fingers twined around your hip bones, pulling your waist into his with one quick jerk. "Hey," you whispered back at him. A sincere smile spread across your face as you twisted to face him, your hands immediately lifting to play with the brown ringlets that framed his face. "Missed you," Harry mumbled, trailing his lips down the length of your jaw. "It's been one class, Haz," you teased, the tip of your tongue slotting between your teeth. He nodded, moving his lips to the base of your neck as he grumbled, "Exactly - fifty whole minutes without hugging you or kissing you or holding you or this. You." His posture straightened out then, a cheeky smile plastering itself across his face before he pressed a long kiss to your lips. "Hey!" Someone called out from behind you two. "No public displays of affection! This is a school, not a brothel!" Harry rolled his eyes, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before sliding his hand into yours, mumbling, "C'mon, let's get to class."

Liam: Flicking the cold french fry off your tray, you muttered, "This food sucks. Why haven't I learned better and brought my own lunch like you?" Liam's posture temporarily straightened in a boastful manner as he commented, "Because I'm smart and sensible and you're.. You." Sticking your tongue out at him, you curled your fingers around the bottom of your seat before obnoxiously hopping your chair a few inches away from him. "Heeeey," he called out, a pout jutting along his lower lip. "That's not very nice." It was nice, really, having the same lunch period as Liam. You never had to worry about having no one to sit with - or worse, having to sit with someone you weren't too well acquainted with and have those awkward two second eye contacts before both of you looked away. Plus, it was another forty minutes you got to spend with your boyfriend. "Come back," he whined, outstretching his right arm and wiggling his fingers. You complied, sliding your chair back to its original position beside him. Although, honestly, you might as well have been sitting on his lap. "Here," Liam compromised, sliding his bag of chips in your direction. But you were quick to shake your head, claiming that you weren't hungry while patting your stomach. "Don't believe you," he mumbled, inching the bag closer to you. "Eat. Please? For me?" Staring at the opened bag, you sighed, taking one between your index finger and thumb. "What about you, though?" You questioned, looking up at him. "Aren't you going to eat?" Liam quickly shook his head before stealing a kiss, mumbling, "This is good enough for me."

Louis: Having an older boyfriend had its perks - you weren't going to deny that. He was able to drive you to and from school every morning and afternoon. Actual helpful advice was given to you on a daily basis - which teachers to ignore, which gave easy A's, where to sit in order to dodge getting spat at whenever one opened their mouth. Other girls gawked at him whenever he stood outside your classroom, waiting to walk you to your next and some decided to keep their feelings written on the bathroom stalls. "Guess what?" You asked, hopping beside the blue eyed boy's locker. He gave the door a push, shutting it with a low clank before turning to you. "What?" The smile on your face grew wider, your chin lifting up in a faux proud manner. "I'm undateable. And guys only give me the time of day because I'm an easy lay." Louis rolled his eyes, simultaneously draping an arm around your shoulders as you two made your way down the hallway. "You really shouldn't read those things, you know." His voice was soft, a bit uncharacteristic of him. Louis was normally one to grumble whenever he heard of the latest scrabble on the stalls, threatening to get a hold of a security tape and rip the hair out of whoever dared write you off as anything less than amazing. "I don't want you to get caught up in it, you know? People say stupid shit because they're jealous and I don't want you to get hurt," he concluded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Niall: Fiddling with the knob of your locker, you spun in the wrong combination for the forth time, forcing you to pull violently at the handle. "Fuck this!" You grunted before letting your eyes fall shut and sucking in a long breath. "Okay, no. It's fine. Everything's okay." Giving yourself another reassuring exhale, you stared at the knob for a second before carefully twisting it with the three numbered combination. As you were about to reach the last number, your body jolted with a sudden scream to your left, forcing you to move five spaces too many. "Your voiiiiiiiice was the soundtrack of my summer," a voice sang merrily. "Do you know you're unlike any other? You'll always be my thunder." The voice was getting louder with every passing second and you could already feel the numerous eyes boring into your back. "Damnit, Niall," you muttered, a blush creeping to your cheeks. And as if on cue, your blonde haired boyfriend popped up beside you. "And I said, your eyeeeees are the brightest of all the colors. I don't even wanna love another, you'll always be my thunder." Glaring at the boy dramatically singing beside you with a clenched jaw, you tried your hardest to subtly tell him to calm down. You should have known it was no use - Niall had made it his mission to embarrass you to some extent every day, apparently it was his way of teaching you to care less about what other people thought. "So bring on the raaaaaaain and bring on the thunder!" You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you walked away, "You're an idiot and I hate you." The grin plastered on his face was evident in his words as he called out after you, "Love you too, babe!"

Zayn: "This is, without a doubt, the best thing about being a senior," he mused, shoving the three paged packet of paper in your face. You rolled your eyes in response, swatting his hands away before filing through your math notebook. You had a test next period and had no time for Zayn's antics. "It's not a joke! Do you know how proud people are when they win these things?" He questioned, flipping to the last page. "I for one am going to tell my children about this - and they better tell their children and so on and so forth." Letting out a sigh, you pulled your eyes from your notebook, humoring Zayn only in order to get him to leave you alone. "What exactly is this you're nominated for, babe?" His eyes squinted with happiness and a colossal smile pulled on his pink lips before he cleared this throat. Zayn then added a hand to his chest for dramatic effect. "I, Zayn Malik, am nominated for best dressed - an obvious win, best hair - that may be a bit of a challenge, most likely to succeed - damn straight, and.." His eyes bulged momentarily with shocked before it was switched out with endearment. You leaned forward, nodding your head as a signal for him to carry on. "We're voted for most likely to get married." The sentence hung in the air for a moment and Zayn's amber eyes were searching your face, waiting for the look of panic or excitement to flash through. But he got nothing. "Let me see that," you murmured, snatching the packet from his hands. Rolling your eyes, you gushed, "We've got that in the bag."