One Direction Preferences

#11 DDM You don't get along

TUMBLR! ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNER!

Zayn:

When you turned eight you had a rough two years and turned sassy and pushed your parents away as much as you could. So, even though your mum never did because she knew girls, Zayn sort of gave up on trying with you. He thought he was bothering you more when he talked to you and he just wanted you to be happy. So now, when you were fourteen, your relationship was just sort of awkward. You wished you could take back what you did, now you thought he hated you and purposely didn’t talk to you because he didn’t want to. You didn’t really talk to each other, you definitely never came to him for anything, but it wasn’t that you didn’t like each other. Unfortunately, your mum had just left on a week long business trip and you were stuck alone with your father. And this just happened to be the week your beloved boyfriend confessed he just “hadn’t been feeling it anymore”. So there you were, crying your eyes out, your mum in hour long meetings, and no one around but your dad. “(Y/N)? You okay in there?” a soft voice asked from outside the door. As much as you thought he hated you, you knew you needed someone right now. So you hesitantly opened the door and shook your head, “No.” Zayn wanted to hold himself back like he’d been doing for years but he just couldn’t anymore. Not when his little girl was crying. He strode forward and lifted you up in his arms, sitting down on your bed and cradling you into his chest, “What happened baby?” And when you heard the controlled roughness and gentleness in his voice, and felt how tightly he was gripping you, you realized it had been your fault all along. So you opened up to him right then and there and let’s just say your mum was overly surprised when she walked in a few days later, late at night to find you and Zayn cuddled on the couch sleeping,

Harry:

You two were polar opposites so it made your relationship with each other just stressed. Your father liked indie music, hanging out with the boys and having a right good time. You liked sneaking out to punk concerts, wearing black, and skateboarding. It wasn’t like you were a bad kid, you had just grown up, you were seventeen and Harry was just angry you weren’t his little girl who was obsessed with Disney anymore. “(Y/N) where are you going?” asked an exhausted voice from behind you just as you were about to walk out the door. “I’m just going to this concert,” you said in a bored tone, continuing to open the door. “What concert?” your father asked, stepping in front of you and slamming the door shut. “The only concert I know of in town this weekend is Memphis May Fire,” your Uncle Louis spoke up. You shot him a dirty look, knowing your dad didn’t like any of your bands so he wouldn’t let you go. “Absolutely not, do you know the kinda people who hang out at those things?” “Yeah, my friends,” you said angrily. “Yeah your friends who tried to get you high. Who tried to get you drunk. Who puked in OUR living room. You are not going!” Harry shouted, his temper getting the best of him like usual. “Why are you always this mean! Why do you act like you hate me now just cause I grew up!” “I don’t hate you! I hate what you’ve become. No (Y/N), I don’t hate that you love skateboarding, I don’t hate the bands you like. I like those things, they make you you. I hate that you sneak out. I hate how your friends influence you. I hate how you’re not the person I raised.” You stayed quiet. Neither of you had ever said what you had just said. Suddenly, the girly said of you came out and you started to cry. Harry took a step forward, “Baby-” You ran into his arms, “I missed you daddy.”

Louis:

And thank goodness you only had to stay with him every other weekend due to the divorce. Otherwise you would have gone crazy. Unfortunately, you had band practice this weekend; you hadn’t told your father you made a band with some friends because you didn’t want him to interfere or get all excited. Normally you had practice during the week so you could walk from your mum’s house but now you were going to have to get your dad to drive you to the little shed you played in. “Dad, I need you drive me somewhere?” you asked the man lying on the couch watching football with your Uncle Zayn. “Okay where?” he said, jumping up, clearly happy you were talking to him. You told him the directions where to bring you but you didn’t really say why, you just said you were meeting a few friends there and that you would call him when you needed him to bring you home. For some reason, your father wasn’t nosy at all during the drive like usual, it seemed he was learning to give you your space and you much appreciated that. But when he dropped you off, he just had to grab your arm, “Uh honey? This is just a shed in the middle of the woods…” “I know dad,” you tried to get out of the car, shaking him off but as you looked back at his hurt face you suddenly felt guilty. Guilty for all the years you spent pushing him away when all he wanted was to be the best dad he could be. “It’s where me and my band rehearse dad, wanna come watch us?” And just seeing his face completely light up as he practically sprinted out of the car and took your hand…you knew you were going to change things around.

Niall:

He thought his protectiveness was completely rational, but you thought he was just babying you and that annoyed you deeply. You just couldn’t stand it anymore, especially when you hit your sixteenth birthday. It wouldn’t be small things either. He would still try to make you go to bed at ten, never let you date, monitor what you ate, and stuff like that. To him you were his baby, his only little girl and his youngest child so it didn’t seem overboard. But you were about to loose your cool. One night you were sitting on the couch with four of your best friends, Dylan, Chase, Anna, and Emma. You’d secretly started to like Chase for a while but it was nothing big and nothing that you thought wouldn’t disappear. But you were still careful around him. You of course were sitting next to Chase and somehow your hands had interlocked. And that was when your father decided to come home. “(Y/N)?” a voice said firmly from behind you. You spun around and face palmed; you hadn’t told anyone you would have friends over. “Yeah dad?” “Can I speak to you in the kitchen? And please remove your hand from that boys hand,” he added, snarling and stalking into the kitchen. “Actually, I think it’s best if your friends went home.” he added. They all knew your dad so they quickly left the house and you went into the kitchen. “Way to be embarrassing Horan,” sometimes you couldn’t even call your dad, dad you didn’t like him so much. “Way to be groping some boy alone in the house,” he growled. “Uh we weren’t alone and we were holding hands.” “I don’t want to see him around ever again, you’re grounded. And if you ever talk to me like-” “Dad! Just listen, okay?” you tried to be calm for two seconds. “I get it, I’m growing up. It must suck for you. But you don’t have to be a dictator…just cool the jets would ya?” It wasn’t your best speech but it was all you could say without yelling. He took a deep breath and said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll try.” Then he left the room. But at least it was a beginning. 

Liam: 

He was just too controlling and demanding, he would get mad at you for the stupidest things. And he would overreact. All of your friends knew this, they would always try their best to avoid your father, especially when they knew you were about to get in trouble. Which was like everyday. If you forgot to do your dishes, grounded. If you didn’t take the dog out, grounded. Some people said it was because he cared but if that was true you rathered he didn’t care. And today, all you had done was skipped football practice. Okay you didn’t really have a good reason, but you were tired and really didn’t want to go. Unfortunately you were on of the star players and the coach wouldn’t let it slide. So when you walked in and saw your dad standing by the counter, waiting, you knew he had gotten the call. “Hello,” he said simply, watching you drop your school bag. “Hey da’,” you said lightly, grabbing some water. “Coach called. You’re grounded for two weeks and if you ever miss a football practice again-” You were sick of this, “What dad? What will happen?” He looked a little taken aback but before he could respond you continued, “Dad, you’ve been treating me pretty rudely lately. And I get that you’re concerned and my father. But I’m growing up. I need a little slack and I need you to cool down a bit.” You were expecting a huge blowup, to have your phone taken away, and to never leave the house again. But instead he nodded, sipping his orange juice and said, “I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. But you can’t skip practices anymore, the team needs you and you made a commitment.” Form then on, you both tried a little bit more to get along with each other.