One Direction Preferences! (Book 1)✔

#49. He Insults You in a Fight. (Part 2)

Niall: You’d let go of his insult until a few weeks later when you were just feeling really bloated and stuff and you’d been on Twitter and all of the fans there were calling you names, the most prominent being ‘fat’ or ‘cow’ or some variation of that. So you’d finally just broke down crying, feeling absolutely ugly and worthless. Niall heard you and he’s not stupid, he knew what it was about. When he fell down onto the bed beside you, he automatically was pulling you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “Ouch! Babe, you need to eat more. Your ribs are digging into me.” He said, holding you slightly away from him. “Shut up, Niall. I’m fat; you don’t have to pretend otherwise.” You rubbed at your eyes. “I’m not pretending, Y/N. You’re beautiful and even if you were fat, it would only be because you are fucking amazing though.” A smile started tugging at the corners of your lips and he joyfully laughed. “See! There’s my beautiful girl and her smile. That’s the only reason why they say that because they agree with me that you’re perfect.”

Liam: By the time that you woke up from your nap, the magazines had been stacked back up nicely and put away on the other side of the room along with most of the clothes and blankets had disappeared; although the majority of the used tissues still littered the room. You looked over to see Liam sitting at the other end of the sofa, his head in his hands. “Li?” He looked up at you, his eyes melted into the puppy dog eyes that you honestly hadn’t seen for a while. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t - I just - I think I might be coming down with something too which I know is no excuse for how I acted earlier. I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to get angry with you.” He reached over and grabbed your hand. “You do such a good job with keeping it clean most of the time, but it was just such a mess.” He smiled weakly and you laughed. “Liam, it was a total mess in here, you don’t have to apologize for that bit.”

Zayn: The worst part about Zayn saying that you were ugly was the fact that for most of your life you’d felt hideous and strongly believed that no one would ever love you. Then you had met Zayn and even though he was the most gorgeous man you had ever laid eyes on, he made you feel stunningly gorgeous. But now, even he thought you were ugly, he’d never really seen you without your makeup off and now here you were standing bare-faced except for a stubborn bit of eye makeup that wouldn’t come off, and he’d just told you that you were ugly. You sat down on the toilet seat, scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing at your face with the cloth and your tears. You’d probably nearly rubbed your face raw and smeared tears everywhere. Your eyes were stinging and your face kind of hurt, but still you continued rubbing. “Y/N! Y/N, stop it!” Zayn walked over to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from your red and scratched face. “Stop it, you’re beautiful. I didn’t mean it, I just meant that jealousy doesn’t suit you. You’re the greatest woman I’ve ever seen.” His cool lips pressed against your friction-heated cheeks again and again until you finally started to believe him.

Louis: Right after his protective statement about his bandmates, he’d stormed out the front door, leaving your brother to return a moment later and ask what had happened. You explained it calmly and your brother just looked at you and shook his head. “Wow, sis, harsh. You should go apologize to him, really. Take my keys and go.” He handed you his car keys and the key to Lou’s flat, practically pushing you out the door. His car was outside the flat, so you knew that he was home and when you got to his door you were about to use the key when you thought better of it and knocked instead. “What the hell do you want?” His voice asked bitterly from the other side of the door. “Go away.” And then you heard him walk away. You sighed, figuring that your brother wouldn’t let you back into your own house without proof of having apologized, so you slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. You’d never actually been inside of his home before, so when you stepped inside you were amazed. “I said ‘go away’, not ‘come right in.’” He growled from the sofa. You flopped down beside him. “I’m sorry, I’m just such a bitch that I had to come right on in because I’m stupid enough to think that it’d be nice to apologize.” He sighed and looked over at you, “You’re not a bitch. But you are stupid.” His arms were folded across his chest and he was still looking straight forward at a painting on the opposite wall. “Oh, really and why’s that?” Louis rolled his eyes and didn’t say a word.

Harry: You made up from that fight and he promised to never call you a slut again. But two nights later when nearly the same thing happened except this time it was a gay guy who just wanted to argue with you. Unluckily for you, Harry was nowhere around to help you out of the predicament you’d gotten into because you’d gone out with a couple friends who had all vanished at the first sign of trouble. But soon the guy started getting really mad at you and his boyfriend that you’d been attempting to flirt with wasn’t any help either, so when he flung his drink at you, thoroughly dousing your shirt in the liquid, you fought back. Two hours later when Harry came to pick you up from the security office at the back of the club, he shook his head at your appearance, just tucking you under his arm and driving you home.