ZAYN: “Good morning, gorgeous,” Zayn greets you first thing in the morning, rolling over to be closer to you. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Ergg,” you groan, rolling away from him. “Stop,” you demand, readjusting the blankets over your shoulders and snuggling down into the pillows. “Oook… Did I do something wrong?” he questions, confused. “You’re breathing the same air as me,” you deadpan, as though that should have been the obvious problem. “Well then in that case, I’ll just go breathe some of the air in the kitchen instead. I’ll go make us some breakfast; you can feel free to join me when you feel less annoyed by my presence,” he jokes, knowing that you’re just in one of your moods. He knows the hormones are going crazy lately and that you have no control over your grumpiness, so he tries to take it with a grain of salt and ignore it. “Whatever,” you huff. He leaves to go do as he said he would, and about a half an hour later you join him in the kitchen. “Hi,” you say simply, in a less bitter tone than you’d been in previously. “Hi. Should I go into the living room?” he teases. “Ha, ha. Very funny. You know I didn’t mean anything I said. And I’m sorry for it.” “I know you are; don’t worry about it. Come here,” he forgives you, opening his arms for you to mold into his embrace.
NIALL: “Would you stop playing that damn guitar for two seconds?!” you snap, storming into the den where Niall is lounging, strumming mindlessly on his guitar as he watches a game. “It’s nice to see you too,” he retorts dryly, placing the guitar down on the couch next to him. “If you pick that fu-“ “Ah, ah, ah, watch the language…the baby’s always listening,” he reminds you, purposely pushing your buttons. “Fine! Then if you pick that freakin’ guitar up again, I’ll come in here and break your hands.” “Is that a promise?” he singsongs. “I hate you,” you grumble, exiting the room in a fury. “And she was in such a lovely mood this morning…” Niall muses to himself. “I heard that!” you shout through the house. “How did you possibly hear that?” he calls back. “Because I know how much you love pissing me off when I’m in one of my moods!” you reply. “That’s only because if I don’t, I’ll lose my mind trying to get through your mood swings,” he points out. “You’ll lose your mind?! How the hell do you think I feel?” you challenge, reappearing in the doorway. “You swear a lot when you get mad, have you ever noticed that?” “Niall…I swear to God…” Niall lets out a throaty laugh, and says, “What? What are you gonna do to me?” “I’ll kick you in the balls,” you say sternly, giving him the evilest eye you can muster. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re already pregnant so at least you’ll have one kid,” he snides, smirking at you playfully. Giving up at this point, you shake your head disapprovingly and return to the other room.
LIAM: “Look what your mum just sent over,” Liam mentions, bringing in a box from the front porch. He drops the rest of the mail down on a nearby table and carries the box over to you. You prop yourself up on the couch and rip the tape off. You quickly realize it’s a bunch of your old things from when you were a baby. “Awww, look at this!” you coo, picking up an outfit that you thought she’d tossed years ago. “There are so many pictures of me in this one. I think it’s pretty safe to say this was my mom’s favorite one. Oh, and my old blanket… Gosh, look at all this stuff.” You and Liam take your time sorting through it all, with you explaining the importance or memory associated with each item. With only a few things left in the box, you feel yourself starting to get upset. At hearing your sniffles, Liam turns to you. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. Nothing at all. As usual!” “Oh, babe, it’s ok,” he comforts, pulling you in close. “No, it’s not. It’s not ok. I hate that I turn into a blubbering idiot at the drop of a hat. Over nothing!” you insist, growing frustrated. “It’s all just part of the process, I guess,” Liam reminds you unhelpfully. “It just sucks. I feel so out of control over my own emotions. And I feel like it must be so annoying to you. I know I’m annoyed with myself,” you mutter. “I’m not annoyed. I know you can’t help it and I know that this isn’t you.” “It still sucks.” Liam laughs lightly, reaching into the box to pull out the next item.
LOUIS: You and Louis had been in one of your usual silly moods, cracking jokes back and forth and trying to one-up the other with hilarious antics. “Remember that time we went on that hike and you-“ You cut him off by punching him in the arm. “I don’t want to talk about that,” you warn tersely. Louis laughs. “What? It’s a funny story! We always get such a laugh out of it! Come on,” he argues. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s really not that funny. In fact, it’s kind of embarrassing.” “Oh, come on! You love that story! You always laugh when we retell it.” “Well I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” “Geeze, this mood swing stuff is no joke, huh?” he pokes fun. “What mood swing? This is not a mood swing. This is me not wanting to talk about that time on the hike,” you put a halting end to his teasing. “Wow, this is worse than when you’re on your period. Remind me to never impregnate you again,” Louis kids. “Oh, thanks!” you snap, getting up and leaving the room in tears. “Babe! Hey, love, I didn’t mean that. Don’t cry,” he tries to apologize, following after you. “It’s not funny to tease me about it, Louis. I can’t help it and it makes me feel bad enough as it is.” “I know. I know all that. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I didn’t know bringing up that story would make you so upset.” “I didn’t know either!” you wail, melting into his arms and riding out your mood swing.
HARRY: “Next time you decide to leave your clothes on the floor, don’t!” you scold from the bedroom and Harry can hear you whipping them around, probably onto the bed. “I was in a hurry,” he defends meekly, stepping into the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry, because taking ONE SECOND to pick them up off the floor and put them in the laundry basket would have taken you so much time.” you seethe, shoving the pile of clothes at him. “This has never bothered you before,” he mentions quietly, dumping the clothes into the laundry pile. “We have a baby on the way, Harry. A real one. Not a man who thinks he’s a kid. Also known as you,” you spit venomously with a quick shove to the arm. “Hey! I do not think I’m a kid. I’ll put my clothes away from now on. I’m sorry,” he tells you sincerely. “Also,” you continue, now clearly on the warpath, “you need to stop leaving your shoes all over the place too. There’s something called a closet, and it works wonders in keeping things in order.” “I really don’t like this sarcastic you,” Harry mumbles, grabbing for the two pairs of shoes that you’re complaining about. “You’re lucky I love you,” he adds on with a flirtatious smirk. You clear your throat, unamused, and cross your arms in front of you, shooting your husband a pointed glare. “And I’m very lucky that you love me,” he states, finishing with a cheesy grin. “You got that right,” you agree, smacking his bum playfully.
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One direction imagines and prefences (request open)
FanfictionA bunch of preferences and imagines about One Direction. Some I wrote and found on tumbler request are open
