One direction - Preference

Jeg er helt tosset med de her "preferences" som jeg finder på nettet. Jeg har ingen rettigheder eller what-so-ever til dem her.

Jeg skriver også nogle danske imagines (som jeg selv finder på), så hvis i keder jer, skulle i også til at tage et smut forbi dem.

Håber i vil nyde dem :D

OBS de er alle sammen på engelsk :)

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166. He goes to your sporting event...

 

 

 

Harry: It was competition day, and you were backstage, racking your mind to remember your dance that you had worked so hard on. You paced back and forth nervously, wringing your hands together and adjusting your costume. “Y/N.” A voice hissed, and you whirled around to see Harry Styles, your boyfriend standing there. “Harry!” You whispered, rushing up to him. “I thought you couldn’t make it!” “Erm… I couldn’t. But I… Well, I ditched management. I couldn’t resist the chance to see you perform, you know I love it.” You grinned as he pulled you into a hug. “Looks like I got here just on time. How many more dances until yours?” “I have 2 numbers then I’m on.” You swallowed nervously as you saw the girl onstage exit. “Okay, one more number.” You pulled away from the hug and started marking your dance. “Calm down, babe. You’ll be fine.” Harry soothed, but you kept at it anyways. The dancer left the stage within minutes, and then it was your turn. You anxiously gripped Harry’s wrist, and he squirmed in pain. “And now welcome number 86, Y/N!” A voice sounded from the celling. “You’ll do amazing, Y/N. Love you.” Harry detached his wrist from your grasp and pushed you onstage. Once you hit the lights, a beam grew on your face and you performed your dance, knowing that your loving boyfriend was watching. Surprisingly, it only gave you more confidence. The music ended and you gracefully left the stage and fell into Harry’s arms. “You were amazing, Y/N. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Harry murmured into your ear, and you sighed, resting your head on his chest, glad that he had come…

Liam: You nervously stretched your arms out and adjusted your swim cap. It was the big day, the swim meet of the year. You had barely met the qualifications, and nobody was betting on you. “Whoo! Go Y/N!” You heard a voice from the bleachers. Well, nobody except for your boyfriend, Liam Payne, who had insisted on watching. “Good luck, Y/N.” The girl next to you simpered. “You’ll do fantastic!” You glared, knowing that the girl was being sarcastic, but she also was the favored to win. “Back at you, Olivia.” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Three… Two… One… Go!” A gunshot rang out, and you dove into the water. You swam quickly, distinctly hearing Liam’s cheers. Your arms cut through the water, aching towards the end, but you knew you couldn’t stop. Before you knew it, you had finished. You glanced at the scoreboard, and to your surprise you saw “Y/N Y/L/N” posted as the number one spot. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, a feeling of elation rising in your chest. Olivia turned to you and shot a murderous glare, but at that point you couldn’t care less. You had just won! Several people around you patted you on the back, and as you hauled yourself out of the water, you saw Liam pushing through the crowd to get to you. “Y/N!” He grinned and pulled you into a hug. “That was fantastic! I knew you could do it!” “I owe it to your cheers, Liam. Now those were fantastic.” You hugged him back, and he lifted to up onto his shoulder. “Liam!” You protested, but he kept you there. “Give it up for Y/N!” He shouted, and the crowd around you erupted in applause…

 

Louis: You dribbled the ball, weaving in and out of the other team’s member. “Shoot it, Y/N!” You heard your boyfriend call from the stand. You were about to do as he said when a girl came up and tripped you while her teammate stole the ball. You landed on your back, and another girl ran over your fingers. A whistle rung out, and the referee offered a hand to help you up. “Are you okay?” He asked, and you shrugged, cradling your injured fingers to your chest. “Next time, don’t be so clumsy and fall.” He instructed, and your eyes widened. Had he not saw what happened? “You almost tripped the other team. Penalty!” He shouted, and you heard your entire team boo. You shook your head angrily, and looked up as commotion erupted in the crowd. To your surprise, Louis appeared from the crowd and marched angrily up to the referee. “Excuse me sir, you’re not allowed on—” The referee started, but Louis cut him off. “Excuse me, sir, but you’ve got it wrong. Somebody tripped her, not the other way around! So you better fix your mistake, or I will have you replaced.” Louis got in his face, and you tried to suppress your giggles. “Erm… Right away, sir.” The referee blushed. Before Louis marched back, he gave you a wink and a sly thumbs up, and at that moment you knew that Louis’ sassiness paid off…

Zayn: “How do you think you did?” Zayn asked, squeezing your hand. You shrugged, tapping your foot impatiently. You and your boyfriend were waiting for the results of your ice-skating competition, and although you were favored to win the gold, the slip in your routine didn’t make you feel that confident about it. “We’re starting the medals now. Skaters, find your coaches.” A voice rang out on the speaker system. “That’ll be me. Gotta go.” You said to Zayn, and he kissed your cheek. “You’ll do great.” You hurried off and found your coach, then the two of you sat with the other skaters. You looked off into the crowd and saw your boyfriend being swarmed by a group of girls. Oh well. “First of all, I want to say congratulations to all of you. We had a very tough time judging this year. Now, onto the medals! In eighth place we have…” The lady squinted at a name on her list. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Your eyes widened, and you felt your coach’s jaw drop slightly. You plastered a smile on your face and went to accept your award. You stood dejectedly on the stand as people joined your side, winning medals higher than you. You bit your lip. So much for winning first, huh? You stood numbly as they announced the top three, and you saw your coach shaking her head. “Congratulations, everyone! You are free to go.” You hurried off, ignoring the cries of your coach. You found yourself in the locker room, and slowly sat on the bench, feeling tears come to your eyes. “Y/N?” You heard a soft voice call. “Go away, Zayn.” You sniffled, not wanting him to see you like this. He sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. “Want to talk about it?” He offered, and you nodded. “I just got my hopes up for making top three, and then to win eighth, I just… I don’t even know.” You murmured, and immediately felt better after speaking those words. “Well, you beat all those other girls who didn’t even place.” Zayn pointed out. “But if it makes you feel better, you’re always going to be first in my eyes.” Zayn kissed your head and your smiled slightly, pleased to have a boyfriend like this…

Niall: You took a deep breath as your coach rubbed your back. “Now, remember, keep your knees locked and point your toes. You’ve got this.” You nodded and rubbed your chalky hands together. It was the biggest day in your gymnastics career. You were trying to qualify for the Olympics. It was your turn for vault, and you couldn’t be more nervous. This was your worst event, and all these people watching certainly didn’t make it any easier. It also didn’t help that your popstar boyfriend, Niall Horan, was somewhere in the crowd watching. You weren’t quite sure where, because the last time you saw him he was leaving to find some food. You breathed again, then started to sprint, gaining as much speed as you could. You jumped, flipping yourself over, but you could tell you started to twist too soon. You lost control and landed, sliding on the mat and ending in an awkward position. Tears sprung to your eyes, and your coach ran to help you up. You limped off, your right ankle aching. “What hurts?” Your coach asked, sitting you down on a bench. You blinked as cameras flashed, not wanting to miss this moment. “Um… My…” You flinched again as another camera blinded you. “Don’t mind the cameras. Just listen to me. What hurts?” “My ankle.” You stammered. “Coming through, medical help here.” A voice rang out behind you, slightly familiar. A guy stood there in white sweat suit, hood up and sunglasses covering his eyes. “I can take her from here, coach.” Your coach smiled mysteriously, and you had a feeling she knew something you didn’t. “Take her, Mr… Mr. H.” The man picked you up and you protested slightly, but the guy whispered something in your ear. “Don’t worry, princess. It’s me, Niall.” Niall whispered, accent back. “I’m going to take her to the nurse.” He announced to everyone, voice disguised. Niall carried you off and you started to cry, knowing that you had hurt yourself and the chances of you making it. “Don’t cry, princess. You did perfect in everything else. You’ll do fine in qualifying.” He assured and you nodded, sniffling into his chest as he carried you off to the nurse…

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