One Direction | Preferences

You're Famous As Well

You’re Famous As Well

A/N: I haven’t written anything like this before… I hope you like it? Feedback would be awesome :) 

Niall: So every single bit of your relationship is exposed. As soon as the news breaks, your faces are splashed across every magazine, the source of everyone’s gossip, and you can’t really escape it. Everyone seems to know the one secret you tried your hardest to keep, and it hurts, quite a bit actually. After barely telling anyone about Niall, you don’t know how it got out, and someone you trust must have betrayed you, but when Niall arrives that night, peeking into your bedroom where you’re sitting at your desk, swinging idly in the spinning chair, it all seems worth it, to have his body enveloping yours and promising not to let anything hurt you.  

Harry: So the two of you sneak around, ducking into hotels and spending the nights wrapped in each other, whispering words of love into the darkness and pressing kisses to skin that isn’t usually exposed, before parting in the morning, managers knocking on the door, demanding you come out and do your job. And the thought of Harry will follow you as you greet fans and sing to crowds of thousands, and lie straight through your teeth about being single, until you end up in the same city again and there’s a sleepy, soft boy walking through your doorway, folding into you, and even this is enough to last you for the rest of your life.

Liam: So nearly every interview starts with, ‘How’s Liam?’ And although your management would much rather you talked about your new movie instead, you’re happy to settle into your chair and smile softly as images of Liam fill your mind, blushing a little as you tell the radio host about how you talked to him this morning and he’s really excited about the tour. And most likely the next question will be, ‘Do you miss him?’ And you can’t really lie and murmur something about him just doing his job and you’ll see him soon, because you’re not going to see him for another month, and you miss him so much you ache, but you manage to keep a brave face and nod, “Yeah, I do. A lot actually. But we both love what we’re doing, and I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”

Louis: So you end up in a busy airport, paparazzi swarming, both your fans and Louis’ combined, a total of four bodyguards helping you get through to the front of the crowd, people screaming everywhere, and your heart is racing, slamming in your chest, practically able to feel Louis, your fingertips tingling. The noise in the terminal reaches its peak as the band emerges, tired and sore after the ridiculously long flight, but Louis catches your eye almost immediately, veering off to push through to where you’re rushing towards him. You should keep calm and composed, the hundreds of cameras here are capturing your every move, but you haven’t seen Louis in months, and you just want to be held and loved and promised never to be left again, crashing into him, his carry-on bag hitting your hip a little painfully, but he pulls you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, his arms tensing around you, and in that blissful moment, nothing matters except the boy holding you.

Zayn: So it’s his hand you’re holding on the red carpet, blinking a bit faster than normal against the bright lights of the paparazzi’s camera, smiling big and bright, and Zayn’s fingers are warm and reassuring curled around yours. He tends to whisper to you, lips brushing your ear, and it ranges from compliments, to a worry he has about talking with the reporters, to which way your publicist is gesturing for you to look. “You look beautiful,” is what he says tonight, even though he’s already said it multiple times since you first stepped out of the bathroom. “So do you,” you murmur, and he squeezes your hand gently, pulling you closer into his side, “But you look better.”