One Direction | Preferences

Getting Ready For An Awards Show

Getting Ready For An Awards Show

A/N: Quick and simple. Enjoy! Feedback makes my day, really :) xx

Niall: Niall’s waiting by the hotel room door, adjusting his tie in the mirror in the hallway while you press your lips together in the bathroom, stepping back until you’re pressed against the shower screen in an effort to see your whole body in the horizontal mirror, smoothing out your skirt. “(Y/N)! Babe!” Niall calls and you let out a slow breath, checking once more that everything’s perfect, before walking out into the main room. “What do you think?” Niall’s brain kind of shuts down then, because there you are, looking like you’ve fallen from Heaven or something, eyes wide and nervous, waiting for his opinion, but he can’t really speak, his mouth opening and close, and gosh, you look like an angel.  

Harry: Harry knows how nervous you are for this, the whole three days you’ve been in L.A you’ve been wound up about it, constantly asking him whether it’s the right idea for you to come with him, taking your dress out of the closet and then putting it back in, but he’s good at calming you, cradling your face in his hands and murmuring things about how you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Even so, on the actual day, you’re a right mess, no matter how much you try to hide it from him. Lou pops in, offering her services with makeup and hair, which you take gratefully, letting her pin it up into a graceful chignon and working her magic with various foundations and lipsticks and eyeliners until someone you don’t really recognise is blinking back at you in the mirror.  She hugs you and kisses your cheek before disappearing to get changed into her own dress, and Harry peeks in, eyes sparkling as they flicker up and down your body. “You look amazing.”

Liam: You’re carefully applying mascara when Liam appears in the bathroom, hoisting himself up onto the counter, leaning his back on the mirror despite your half-hearted protests (“You’ll leave smudges, Li.”), already dressed in his suit. “You look pretty,” he compliments, resting his chin on his pulled up knee while he watches you open your eyes wide to brush on the black liquid to your lower lashes. “You look handsome,” you murmur, grabbing the tube of red lipstick and beginning to put that on. He shakes his head, “But you look better. You look like…” he hums, waving a hand around, trying to think of something to compare you with, “A princess. You look like a princess.” You smile at him, rocking up on to your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, “Why, thank you, my handsome prince.”

Louis: “(Y/N)?” Louis whines, appearing in the bathroom door way, “Can you tie my tie? I can’t get it right.” You roll your eyes at him in the mirror, a smile unconsciously forming, smacking your lips together as you slot the lid back onto the tube of lipstick before beckoning him over, “C’mere, Tomlinson.” He stands patiently as you begin to knot the black material, patting his chest when you’re done. “There you go, good enough?” He grins down at you, kissing your nose, “Perfect.” 

Zayn: Zayn would much rather have you comfy, in sweats or jeans or something, but he thinks you look gorgeous all dressed up as well, it’s a good distraction when he’s nervous, fiddling with his cufflinks and trying not to think about all the other fantastic artists the band is up against, for you to appear, a little self-conscious as you wobble in your heels for the first few steps before getting used to them. You look like you belong in a magazine, the dress hugging your figure in all the right places as you grab your purse, checking you have everything, and Zayn grabs you right before you can leave, dipping down to kiss you gently, ignoring your mumbles of ‘Zayn, lipstick.’ “You look gorgeous,” he says, and he really, really means it. You always look stunning for him, but it gives him a rush to see you all dressed up like this, just for him.