One Direction Preferences Book 2 • Complete

#45 - You Get Injured

Harry: It was one of your final soccer matches of the season and your team was ahead 1 point with less than five minute on the timer. The ball was in your possession and you had a clear path ahead of you, knowing you could make the shot. As the goal got closer your adrenaline began kicking in even more. You made eye contact with the goalie, trying to calculate which angle would be the best for a goal. You were too far off in your own mind; you were unaware of the larger defenseman for the other team coming up behind you. Her leg went to steal the ball away, but instead of kicking the ball, her hard cleats combined with the force of her kick hit you straight in the knee, knocking it out of place, causing you to come crashing down on the grass. A strangled scream left your mouth as the referee blew his whistle. You looked down to see the disfigured form your knee made, breathing heavily. Tears from the immense amount of pain poured down your cheek as a teammate helped you sit up and your coach ran out to the field. "It's dislocated," you heard him say, not wanting to look at it. "(Y/N)?" the voice of your boyfriend rang out as he took the spot of your teammate behind you, holding you up. "It hurts!" you cried out as your coach tried to pop it back in, scaring him. "You need to go to the hospital," he said, looking to Harry. "Are you able to get her there?" Harry nodded, turning his attention back to you. "Babe, we need to get you standing up okay? It's gonna hurt, but we're gonna get you help," he said calmly, placing his hands around your back to support you. You nodded and he, along with your coach, helped you stand up in the least possible way. You winced, wanting to cry out again, but held it back. The hospital visit was definitely unpleasant, but once the painkillers set in and everything was wrapped, you were happy with just getting home and cuddling up with your boyfriend, the painkillers eventually putting you to sleep.

Liam: You thought you could handle the dog-walking job, especially with the pay. But it turns out you were taking on more than you could handle. The dogs were generally easy to control, but on the occasion, one of them would act up, causing the rest of them to become difficult. Today, of course with your luck, was one of those days. "Guys stop!" you called as they continued to pull you along. You were struggling to keep control of these animals, not wanting to let any get away. "Jack! Stop!" you called after the little terrier. They were all tangled up in each other's leash, making you groan in frustration. It wasn't even the worst of it, nit until that little demon squirrel decided to pop out of nowhere, causing the dogs to completely freak out. "No!" you exclaimed, the pulling becoming too excessive, knocking you down onto your knees, scraping them up. Suddenly there was an extra hand grabbing half of the leashes from you, the other helping you back to your feet. You looked down at your bloodies knees and shins before looking to the stranger who had been so kind to help you out. "Need a little help there?" he asked and you smiled relieved. "Thank you so much." The stranger managed to help calm the dogs down, bringing you over to the park bench. "My friends can look after the dogs while I help you clean up," he smiled kindly, three more guys coming over and taking the leashes, bringing the dogs to the field to play. "Again, thank you. I shouldn't have said yes to so many people," you chuckled as he pulled out a water bottle, pouring it over the scrapes to clean them up. Wincing slightly, but feeling relieved, you watched as he gently cleaned you up. "I'm Liam by the way," he introduced himself after finishing to clean them up. "I'm (Y/N)." Liam stood up smiling before sitting next to you, watching his friends play around with the dogs. "How about I help you walk them back?" he offered and you nodded. "That would be great, thank you." "And then maybe I can give you my number?" You looked to him smiling shyly. "Yeah. Yeah I'd like that." Maybe this wasn't the worst day ever.

Niall: "Niall you could really help me with the boxes you know!" you called from the top of the stairs, struggling with the heavy box you needed to move downstairs. "Just a second babe! Let me just finish my drink!" Rolling your eyes, you gave up trying to get him to help, taking the first step down. You were making sure to go slowly, unable to have a view of the stairs in front of you. You looked out to your sides, noticing that you only had a few steps left before you were safely at the bottom, sighing slightly. But that last step was the most difficult. Your foot landed funny, twisting in a position it shouldn't, causing you to drop the box of items, scream out and land with a thud. The footsteps of your boyfriend ran into the room, his mouth falling over when he saw the heap you were in. "(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, kneeling next to you and helping you sit up. There was an intense pain in your ankle, the one that you had stepped on funny, meaning that's where your attention was focused on. "M-My ankle..." you sputtered out, reaching down and wincing when you put even the slightest amount of pressure on it. Niall picked you up, putting on his shoes and heading to the car, sitting you in the passenger side. You didn't protest, as the pain kept getting gradually worse with each passing second. "Oh my god," you groaned, feeling the throbbing take over. This was the kind of pain that was almost nauseating. Niall reached over grabbing your hand and squeezing it. "We're almost there babe... We're gonna get you all better." You moaned in response, squeezing his hand tighter. "You're not moving any more boxes."

Zayn: You were chopping vegetables, wanting to surprise Zayn with a nice homemade meal from when he got home from yet another long day of rehearsal. The knife sliced nicely through the cucumber as you arranged it on the little glass plate before moving onto the carrots. The soft music was playing and the house had a peaceful ambiance to it. You loved this feeling and hoped your boyfriend would to. That peace, however, would not be lasting long as you sliced up the carrots. With one little mistake, you had sliced through your finger, blood immediately spilling everywhere. "Shit!" you exclaimed, "bleeding. "Babe I'm home!" Zayn's voice rung out and you mentally cursed yourself. "Where are you? Something smells delicious," he said smiling, waltzing into the kitchen unaware. "There you are!" he exclaimed, looking at you and then down at the blood stained towel. "Oh my god what happened?!" Zayn rushed over to you, a look of panic in his face. "I was just trying to make you some dinner," you replied in a small voice as he took the towel off, hissing at the depth of the cut. "Babe we need to go get you stitches." "But... you just got home and you're probably exhausted..." He cut you off with a chuckle. "(Y/N), you have a one inch gash in your finger and you're worried about me? You're crazy," he chuckled again, putting the towel back around. "Now come on. We're going to get you stitched up. And when we come back, I'll help with dinner," he finished, turning off the stove, getting you to the car and to the hospital, all in one piece.

Louis: "How many times do I have to ask, please pick up your shoes Louis," you sighed, having to be the fifth time you told him that day. "Someone's gonna get hurt." "Just give me a minute (Y/N)," he replied from the couch. "That's what you said last time!" you huffed, going into the kitchen. An hour later you came back into the front entrance, gritting your teeth, tired of not having your words heard. You were about to go lecture your boyfriend, but didn't see the shoes laying in front of you, taking a funny step and tripping over them, twisting your ankle in the progress. "Fuck Louis!" you yelled sitting yourself up and rubbing your sore ankle. "For Christ's sake (Y/N), why do you have to be such a-" He stopped talking, seeing you on the ground with a scowl on your face. "What happened?" "I tripped over your damn shoes and twisted my ankle that's what happened." Louis' face immediately turned guilty. "I'm sorry babe," he apologized quietly, and you rolled your eyes. "Can you just pick up the shoes Louis?" you asked, attempting to stand up, unable to put any weight on your foot. "Yeah... yeah of course," he mumbled softly, getting right to work at putting his shoes away. A little while later he came into the kitchen where you were, looking timid. "I'm sorry," he said again and you sighed. "Can you please just do what I ask next time Lou? I don't want to have to pick up after you." Louis nodded, coming closer and kissing your cheek. "Yes of course. I promise I will."