One Direction Imagines and Preferences

Morning coffee

Harry: "C’mon, Harry," you tugged back the duvet, "You need to get out of bed. You’ve got to be at BBC in twenty minutes - the taxi’s been out there for thirty. Go on, now." Harry sat up and then, very dramatically, slumped back over in bed. "Nonsense," he muttered into the pillows, "Nick’ll handle it." You scoffed and disappeared, stepping back into the bedroom a moment later. "I already made you tea," you nearly shoved it under his nose, "Now git." Harry sat up and grabbed it, large hands overtaking the cup, "Mm. Love you." 

Niall: "Ni?" You poked your head into the bedroom and scoffed, "Gracious, Niall they needed you in recording half an hour ago. I just told Louis you were in traffic!" You watched the blanket covered lump on the bed turn over, "Well, ‘m here, aren’t I?" You rolled your eyes and walked over, placing the thermos next to him on the bed. "Which is why I already made the coffee. Now please go, before Louis realizes I’ve just made an obscene lie covering for my boyfriend’s pale arse." 

Liam: "Fuck it, fuck it all," Liam growled, storming out of the bedroom as he fought to get a pair of trainers on. "I’m late, I’m bloody tired, got a long ass day-" You raised your eyebrows at him, calmly from across the kitchen. "Lord, language Liam." He huffed at you, and you could tell by his narrowed eyes he was debating throwing you a one fingered wave. You giggled and pointed to the coffee maker, "Just made a hot pot, love. Now go, before you cuss out your wife, and do something you regret." 

Louis: "I don’t get it, I think the bridge is off - No, no that’s not what I’m saying-" You stepped into the recording studio and could hear Louis’ voice as he argued with a sound engineer. After a rough start and a late morning, you knew that he was going to be low on caffeine, and patience. "Hush," you stepped into the sound booth, handing a surprised Louis an Argo cup. "Shuddup and be nice to the man. Drink your tea." 

Zayn: "Come on, baby, I don’t wanna get out of bed," Zayn’s voice was so low and cracked it was a miracle that you heard it. "I know," you huffed, "But you’re the brilliant one who booked such an early flight." He grunted and rolled over, "Then we will catch the next one." You shook your head and giggled, giving him a shove as you got out of bed. "No, I want to catch this one. You said we’d go to Spain." Zayn groaned, still immobile. "We can go in an hour." You chuckled and ripped at the duvet. "I already made the coffee."