One direction imagines and prefrences

He wakes you/ not feeling good

Zayn: "Fuck, no. No I shouldn't." He laid back down and played with his thumbs as he had a coughing fit next to the love of his life. "D-damn." He reached over and shook your shoulders lightly. "B-baby?" You didn't move, the both of you deep sleepers. He reached his hand out to touch you again, but withdrew it quickly shaking his head. "Can't wake her." He leans over the edge of the bed, coughing away from you so he wouldn't get you sick, forcing you to feel as terrible as he did. He did that for a while: coughing away from you, letting you sleep, protecting you, until he just could't take it. He needed you; you were the only one who would help me. The tips of his fingers barley grazed your shoulder. "Baby, sweet pea? Could you wake up for me?" He waited a few seconds for movement before trying again. "(Y/n), baby, please wake up," he said shaking you with a bit more force. Your eyes slowly blinked open; relief washed over him as he saw familiar (y/e/c) eyes stare up at him. "Zayn," you said drowsily. "Hey baby, sorry to wake you, but I'm feeling absolutely horrible. I'm not even sure why I woke you, but I don't know, you just always make me feel better an-" You giggled and shushed him. "Z, stop. I'll help." You threw the covers back and got out of bed and walked to the closet. "Babe! Where're yo-" You came back shaking your head and laughing. "Just went to get you some cough medicine." "Oh." You sat criss-cross back on the bed. "Here comes the train!" you said giggling, and he playfully glared back. "(Y/n), I'm not 12." "You wake me up to take care of you, you let me take care of you." He rolled his eyes but let you baby him, because he secretly loved you taking care of him.

Liam: Head over the toilet, he threw up. Again. And again. And again. He told Simon that the food at the banquet looked a bit sketchy, but with a hand wave, he dismissed it. Bad idea. Now, instead of cuddling with you, he was puking his guts up. He rested his head on the toilet seat and tried to focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. "Crap." He didn't want to wake you, thinking "real men" could handle a bit of food poisoning. He thought only the "weak" had to wake their fiancé's. He wanted to prove that he was husband material, and he thought taking care of a little sickness would do just that. But, he was growing weaker by the second. After fifteen minutes, he was whimpering your name, low little meows of your name under his breathe. He closed his eyes, only to have them jolt open when he felt a hand rubbing slow circles into his back. "W-what? (Y/n)?" he said turning to look at you with watery, tired eyes. You just shook your head and shushed him quietly. "Heard you," you said before pushing a few strands of sweat-soaked hair away from his eyes. "But ho-" "Liam, please. Just focus on getting better." He nodded turning away from you. "C-can I hold you? That would make me feel better." You sighed and nodded and moved into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you; you rubbed his back in slow circles. "Thank you," he mumbled. "Love you."

Harry: His eyes stared at the ceiling for so long, too long. He was starting to see things that weren't really there. He saw a unicorn galloping, an electric guitar, and monkeys swinging off vines. If it weren't for his cold, he really would have thought he was going mental. Jesus, he felt like he was roasting in hell, the flat felt so hot. "Babe?" he croaked. "Yeah, Haz?" you said as you rolled into his chest and snuggled into him. "Feel like shit," he mumbled, not sure if you were awake or just talking in your sleep. You sleepily reached your hand out to feel his forehead. You jolted awake as soon as you felt how hot he was. "I know, I'm hot, babe," he said trying to be humorous, though the pain he was feeling proved to be immense. You weakly smiled and rolled your eyes. "You really are burning up, Harry. We need to cool you down." He closed his eyes and groaned quietly when you walked to the bathroom. You came back with a wet towel and laid it on his forehead. You put your hand under his shirt and felt his stomach. "Jesus, Harry." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Woah, babe. I know I'm hot, but really? Sex right now?" You rolled your eyes and picked up the towel and hit him with it. "Ow!" he said rubbing hiss head smirking. "Even sick you're annoyingly cheeky," you said pulling his shirt over his head. "Please, don't hurt me, Mistress." he said weakly. You rolled your eyes. "Shut up, and let me fix you."

Niall: His stomach grumbled. Loudly. He rolled over and tried to ignore it. The rumble came back and he groaned. "Shhh, you're going to wake her," he said as if talking to his stomach was the most normal thing in the world to do at one in the morning. He tossed and turned for a while before ending up on his back. Another loud rumble ripped throughout the room. "Shhhh," he said curling up and clutching his stomach to try and calm it down. When the loud sounds failed to stop, he got up, slowly so he wouldn't wake you, and went to the kitchen. He pulled out, loudly, pots and pans before standing in front of the mess, running a hand through his hair. "What can I even make?" He went around the kitchen looking through every cupboard and on every counter to try and find something to eat before admitting defeat and walking back to the room. Cover surrounded him as he poked you. "Babe?" Poke. "Babe?" You groaned and rolled over. He chuckled quietly to himself. "Babbbbeeeee, please?" You groaned and rubbed your eyes. "What, Ni?" He blushed slightly and looked away. "I'm uh, I'm uh hungry." Your eyes widened as you looked at him. "Really? You haven't eaten all day, you've been so sick," you said as you felt his forehead. He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. "It's you all and all your taking care of me. I'm starting to feel like my old self." You smiled rolling your eyes and pushing off the cover. "And that means food." You walked off towards the kitchen. He sat up smiling as he watched you walk off. "Thanks baby!" "You better come help me." He scrambled up from the bed to follow. "Coming, dear."

Louis: You didn't realize how gross snot was until it was a thin layer covering your bed. Louis was sick and spewing snot everywhere. You sat back down on the bed handing him an extra box of tissues. "Thanks babe, really appreciate it." You nodded as he blew his nose for the hundredth time that night. "Okay, good for now." You both laid down, and you moved closer to him, but he pushed you back. "Ba-" He shook his head. "Don't want you getting sick, baby" You smiled, "Lou, we're together all the time; we drink after each other, If I'm going to get sick, I'm going to get sick." He shook his head smiling and pulled you under his arm. "I love you for doing this." You smiled and kissed his cheek. "Any time, Lou." Silence fell over the room for a while. "Lou? You feeling better?" "Yeah, thanks, baby" he said. "Lou? You sound congested. Why didn't you tell me?" you said frowning. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "It was better than annoying you and blowing my nose every second." You shook your head and leaned over to the night stand to pull out your Vicks vapor rub. You straddled him and pushed his shirt up. His hand ghosted over your side. "You look so good, baby," he whispered. You blushed and started to rub the medicine over his chest. "Hush and get better, Tomlinson."