Preference #174: Another Boy Has a Wet Dream About You
Harry: “I swear!” Zayn chuckled under his breath, tugging Harry towards the bunks on the tour bus, “He said it!” Harry narrowed his eyes and followed Zayn, “He said it? He better hope he didn’t say it…,” his voice mumbled as his eyes got dark. He was the only one allowed to think about you that way. Sure enough, Zayn motioned for Harry to be quiet, gently tugging the curtain to Niall’s bunk open. “Ermph…,” Niall moaned quietly, turning over, “[Y/N]…” Harry’s eyes got wide as he hit Niall, Niall jumping awake from his sleep and knocking his head on top of the bunk, “Who!?”
Louis: “Aw, he’s had a long day,” you giggled as you cuddled up to Louis, Harry having falling asleep on your opposite couch. He was staying with you for a few days, and you consistently teased him for his occasional childlike mannerisms. “He’s like a kid sometimes,” Louis chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. Harry shuffled in his sleep, your name slipping from his lips. Both you and Louis froze, staring at him. “He didn’t…,” Louis’ eyes narrowed. But sure enough, it happened again, and louder. “Oh… [Y/N]…” You giggled, “That’s not very childlike…”
Liam: “You brought home someone else,” Liam said good-naturedly, swinging the door open to reveal you and Zayn. “What can I say,” you shrugged, shoving Zayn towards the guest room, “He was drunk.” Liam shook his head and followed after you, the both of you helping get a nearly passed out Zayn into bed. “Mm, [Y/N]…,” Zayn suddenly moaned, muffled by alcohol and pillows. Liam froze and straightened up, staring at Zayn, and you could see his countenance switch. “Ssh, Li,” you giggled, tugging on his shirt to get him to leave the room, “He’s drunk and passed out. He doesn’t mean it.” Liam grumbled after you, “Well, we’ll see in the morning.”
Niall: “I just miss her,” Niall pouted, lounging across the couch on the tour bus, complaining to Liam. “I know you do,” Liam sighed, “It’s hard you know. That’s why Dani and I-” But he trailed off, noticing Niall’s expression. “Nah,” Liam waved it off with a smile, “You two are better than we were,” Liam winked, and Niall started laughing. “Good save, man.” Down the hall from the bunks, a muffled groan elicited their attention. “Sounds like Harry misses someone, too…” Liam started giggling. Niall jumped up from his seat and listened closely, sure enough, your name was falling out of Harry’s lip, accompanied with some choice verbs. “Oh, well I’ll be damned…”
Zayn: “How are you and [Y/N] doing, man?” Liam asked, the five of the boys settling into the jet. “We’re good, man,” Zayn smiled, before his smiled began to falter, “But it’s been a month,” Zayn whined, fidgeting on the plane, “I can’t do another four without [Y/N].” “I know,” Liam sighed, “It really sucks. But I’m sure you can fly her out, right?” “Yeah,” Zayn shrugged, “She’ll join us after she finishes her uni finals.” Liam and Zayn were suddenly snapped over to Louis, who began moaning in his sleep. “Oh… [Y/N]… right there…” Zayn’s eyes got wide, and before Liam could stop her, he landed a little hit to Louis’ side. Louis’ eyes snapped open, recollecting his dream and turning red. “Um… sorry?”
Late Night Confessions
- Author's Note: I haven't written a pref in two months, so if this is horrible, I-
- Niall: “This is dumb,” he snarled, “so dumb. I should have never moved from Mullingar to the states. No one here cares about me as I thought.” Niall knew those words were drunken, angered lies, but he needed to show his anger, to show he was unsatisfied tonight. “Niall, that is not true, I care so much…” your voice managed, not wanting to sound weak, but the tears were not just seen, but heard as well. “Fuck,” he mumbled, the sadness heard was weakening him, forcing him to notice how much bottles he ingested, affecting his treatment on others. “I…babe, no,” he rambled, “I…I never meant it…I just I love being here, alright? I mean, being here, starting our life together. This is what I’ve dreamt of—having some beautiful wife, a house of our own, being together forever, but…I just miss Ireland. I miss home. Shit, please…smile for me.” Forcing a smile, he shook his head, reminding himself not to drink so much and to not be so careless with his words. Seeing those tears broke him…wanted him to do whatever it took to see a smile instead. “But then I realize this is home…” he continued, setting his hand on the left side of your chest. “That, right there, where it’s beating and alive is home.”
- Harry: The moon lit the room enough to make out the lines of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, and some loose threads of curls hanging over his forehead. He was flawless, something out of a book as he rubbed his soft thumb over your cheek, not wanting to be elsewhere. “I-I know the others don’t want us together…but I do…” he rambled. “Those magazines…those cameras know nothing, and it makes me so upset no one sees this…sees us together, just…being in love, but it’s alright because we have each other….and to me, we are all that matters.” He settled a kiss behind the lobe of an ear, listening to the slow breathing mixed in the darkened room, remembering each beat, each second, each inhale and exhale, more harmonious than beautiful. “I know this is going to be hard, but I want us to work so much…I want to introduce you to Gemma and Mum, and I…I know we can do this, just trust in me, alright? This is going to be hard, but my heart is too invested to give in now,” he sighed, lacing his longer fingers through yours. It was a soft, kind gesture, meant to show how he was never going to leave, he was locked here, locked and not wanting to be unlocked. “This is forever…I know it, just give me all of your heart because I’ve already given all of mine.”
- Louis: “I-I just need someone to listen to me sometimes…” he slurs, gaze focused on a loose thread of the duvet, “and I love that I can come here and just...talk, be Louis Tomlinson, not Louis Tomlinson, member of One Direction.” It was just something Louis needed. He needed someone to listen to him because for so long, he was judged from his Twitter, the magazines, or news articles, but no one ever just asked him what he thought or how he felt. Night after night, listening to him admit to rumors, but refute others, just made him more…human. After getting drunk with his band, confessions were building inside of him, waiting to come out, but he needed someone to listen to him. “S-sometimes I wonder where I would be without someone to listen to me…” his voice drags on, the waft of alcohol extruding from his breath. “Thanks for being here and just listening to me when the rest of the world chose not to,” he continues. “I-I am falling so hard and so fast…but I want this.” His tanned finger traces a line down an arm in a smooth, gentle manner. His bare chest is thudding against your smooth back, his gaze raking over each birthmark, remembering where each one is, and even noticing the bruises from last night against the hollows. “Go to bed, Lou,” you said, voice not too loud to contribute to his headache. “Just…just promise to never leave me, alright?” he mumbles before dozing into a drunken slumber, hoping tomorrow he would remember revealing his most hidden confession.
- Liam: “S-she hurt me a lot,” his voice cracked. Liam refused to talk about Danielle, but after the assistance of a few beers, confessions were just decanting out of his red mouth. His gaze was watered down, not wanting to revisit those memories. “Liam, we don’t have to talk about this if—” “No, no,” he shook his head, gaze trained on the floor, “I want to…she hurt me, and what sucks is I fought so hard for her. She understood me, and I mean, I thought she loved me, but man, was I fooled, right?” He chuckled, not wanting to remember those memories, but instead, remember the focus of the woman in front of him, tracing rich circles on the back of his hand in an effort to heal his wounds, secure him. “Though losing her was a good thing…” he trailed off, gaze dawdling to the intense stare in front of him, “because I found someone worth so much more—someone who sits here, listens to the drunken mess I am and loves me for it…” He took a second to think about what he managed to confess within one night. “Was the word ‘love’ alright to use, babe?” he asked. “I mean, I…I do love you, Liam…” He stared, unable to calculate those words in his mind. “I love you, also. No one else makes me feel this…this sense of warmth…and don’t fret, love. Tomorrow morning, when I am a bit more sober, I will admit it again. Don’t…don’t hurt me, alright? Return those words to me, tell me each morning and night, so I never forget, and I’ll do the same.” You nodded, watching him as he heaved a breath, wondering how he managed to still be breathing now.
- Zayn: “I never intended to start,” he said, breathing slow. “I-I need to smoke because being famous, on tour, and surrounded with so much attention can be…overwhelming. And I need someone to calm me down, to secure me when it gets frightening, but you can’t be there all the time, and I get it…but it just…am I making sense?” Those hazel irises are examining those in front of him, searching for the reasons he is admitting all of this now. “Shit,” he murmured, “the alcohol is talking, I think.” But Zayn knew this was not the alcohol. Sure the alcohol was assisting in the confidence to admit this, but those thoughts, those words were him. “I want to quit,” he continued, tugging the duvet to cover his bare chest covered with new tattoos. “I-I don’t want to smoke, but it gets hard out there…and I just need you there instead.” Not knowing how to respond, hands fought for his, tracing those scarred knuckles, kissing each indentation. “Just think of me,” your voice croaked, tracing the shell of his ear now, “think of me there, and don’t be scared because I’m there, each minute and hour. I’m not going to let them hurt you, alright?”
Preference #173: Day Out With the Kids
Harry: “C’mon, daddy!” Your two-year old daughter squealed, clapping her hands and tugging on daddy’s Ramones shirt, “We’re going to be late!” Harry laughed and picked her up, tossing her in the air before settling her on his shoulders. He turned around to face you, a massive grin on his face while walking backwards, much to your daughter’s amusement. “I told you Disney was a good idea,” Harry chuckled, pausing so you could catch up with him and he could take your hand. “Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes playfully, adjusting your newborn baby’s sunhat, who was strapped to your chest, “It was a pretty good idea.” “Daddy!” Your eldest giggled again, “Are we going to see the princesses?” She clapped her hands erratically and tugged on his curls. Harry grinned as wide as you’d seen him, nodding up at her, “We’re going to see every princess, babe.” Your daughter’s eyes got massive as she erupted into more giggles again. Harry looked at you again, as his laughter reiterated his point. “Alright!” You threw your hands up, “Mr. Vacation Planner, you were right.”
Liam: “Alright, little man,” Liam squatted down to get on eye-level with your seven year old son, “I mean, big man,” he corrected himself, much to your son’s amusement, “It’s just you and me today. None of those silly girls!” Your son scrunched up his nose, giggling, “None of those silly girls! What do you think they’re doing, dad?” “Probably something lame, like getting their nails done.” “Ew,” your son scoffed, “Girls are weird.” Liam chuckled, standing up and entering the amusement park with your son. “You won’t think that forever, son.” “No,” your son crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m always going to think girls are icky.” “I don’t think girls are icky,” Liam pointed out, laughing as his son stuck his tongue out. “Because you married mummy.” “Exactly, and daddy loves mummy very much.” “Love is silly, too!” Your son continued to argue. Liam sighed, laughing internally, “Oh, no, love is silly, alright. Now, time for the big decisions. The Superman ride or the Batman ride first, bud?” Your son’s eyes got wide, “There’s a Batman ride, dad?!” “You betcha. Batman it is.”
Louis: “Little help here, Lou!” You hollered from behind the minivan, tugging various picnic baskets out of the trunk, holding a car seat in your other hand. “Coming, babe,” Louis scooped up your seven year old daughter and threw her on his back, coming over to help you unload the car. “What are we going to do today, mum?” Your ten year old son took a box from your hands. “Thanks, little man,” you smiled, handing a picnic basket to Louis, the four of you heading off, “We are going to have a picnic, and there’s a park, and if you ask your dad really nicely, he might go swimming in the freezing cold lake with you,” you turned to your husband and winked, him giving you a playful eye roll before giving your son a thumbs up. “Why won’t you go swimming, mommy?” Your daughter asked from Louis’ back as you all headed up the park trail. “Because,” you chuckled, switching the car seat with your two year old son to your other hand, “We actually brought the whole family out for a little celebration. Louis?” You turned to your husband, letting him announce it to your three other children. “Well, Tomlinsons,” Louis smiled at you, “Your mummy is about to make me a dad times four.”
Zayn: “Alright, Malik Jr.,” Zayn smiled across the front seat at your ten year old son, “It’s you and me today, dude.” “Dad,” your son rolled his eyes, “No one says ‘dude’ anymore. That’s so not cool.” He whipped out his iPhone 17 and started scrolling through it. “Hey,” Zayn pretended to be offended, “I’ll have you know, your dad was really cool when he was younger.” “What?” Your son cocked an eyebrow and looked over at his dad, “You were not.” “How do you think I scored your mom?” Zayn chuckled, and his son made a face. “Ew, dad, that’s gross.” “Nonsense,” he scoffed, “Google it, Jr.” Your son, whose interested was piqued, scrolled through his phone after googling his dad’s name. “Holy crap, dad, you were in a band?!” Zayn laughed, turning into the shopping centre, “Yes, I was in a band. I met your mom that way, she liked our music.” Your son nodded, seemingly approving, “Well, no one still says ‘dude’.” Zayn chuckled, shaking his head and getting out of the car. “Where to, bud?” “Sports Authority?” “Nice choice,” Zayn and your son headed off in that direction, before Zayn sent a quick text message. About time for a reunion tour, boys?
Niall: “Let’s do this!” Niall bounded down the stairs bright and early, where you were making breakfast, your one year old son in his highchair. “Niall,” you giggled as his arms wrapped around you and he kissed your cheek, “The game isn’t until this afternoon.” “Psh,” Niall chuckled, “I don’t care. I’m excited. This is our first family football game! It’s going to be great.” Almost as if on cue, your twelve year old son came bounding down the stairs, tackling Niall to the floor. As the both of them wrestled around on the floor, you rolled your eyes playfully and continued to cook breakfast and feed the baby around the two of them. “Go Manchester!” Your son screamed, sitting on top of a ‘beaten’ Niall. “Get off your father, honey,” you chuckled, “I’d like him in one piece.” Niall stood up and your son sat down for breakfast, Niall coming over to you, kissing you sweetly. “EW!” Your son covered his eyes, “KISSING!” You winked at Niall and kissed him back, before he pulled away, “Thanks for giving me my family.”
