One Direction Preferences

You Want To Get A Boob Job

Harry: He choked on his drink as soon as the words left your lips. When he finally got his breath back he just said, “What? Why?” You look down at your chest and frown, “I hate them… they’re just so small… I don’t feel feminine enough for you…” His eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “Well, I love your boobs as well as the rest of your body. And not feminine enough for me? That’s bullshit, you’re perfect for me.”

Louis: "You’re kidding right?" He began to chuckle, "Good one Babe." You sighed, "I actually wasn’t…" There was a moment of silence. "What could you possibly want to do to them? They’re already fucking great." He went on making you blush. "They’re just something I’ve always been insecure about… I have to get my clothes altered to fit them and… one cup size wouldn’t hurt…" He nodded his head, actually considering your reasons, "I’ll sleep on it."

Niall: You threw your brand new dress across the room with a scream. “Woah there.” Niall walked into your bedroom, “What did this poor dress do to you?” You crossed your arms and sat on your bed in a huff, “This dress my mom got me, it doesn’t fit over my massive knockers.” You could feel him smile behind you. “Well that’s the dresses problem. And they are not massive.” He knelled in front of you. “God, I want a reduction so bad.” You scuffed, running your fingers through his hair. “Well-” He kissed your breast and between each word his kisses traveled up to your neck, “I-“ kiss "Think-" kiss "They’re-" kiss "Perfect." And he ended at his final destination, your lips.

Liam: You laid face down on ice packs on your bed. Liam was finally home from tour so he was a little shocked to see the sight. “Uhh Babe… Did anything go wrong on your run?” He asked. “Not really,” You looked up, “My tits just hurt.” He climbed on the bed next to you, “… Your boobs? What?” You sat up, “I wasn’t gonna tell you so soon but… my breasts have always been painful but now that I’m running, it’s getting extreme.” He nodded. “I want to get a reduction.” You winced waiting for his reaction. “Well they must be really painful if you’re considering something so drastic… I don’t want you to be in pain. Do whatever makes you feel good.”

Zayn: Flat. Mosquito bites. Double A. Nonexistent. Your boobs, or lack there of, have been called every name in the book. Since you were about fifteen, you’ve wanted to get a boob job. Now that you were old enough and financially independent, you were gonna do it. The only obstacle was telling your boyfriend. “What?” He said in shock, “But… you don’t need surgery… you’re beautiful.” You sighed, “I don’t need it but I want… I want to feel beautiful.” He frowned then kissed your head, “Boob job or not, you’re perfect in my eyes… but if it’s what will make you happy, I can’t tell you not to do it.”