Preferences/Imagines w/ one direction.

Some preferences/imagines with One Direction for you ;) I'd be happy if you would leave some feedback - thank you !


9. Bad boy (5/5)

9# Bad boy (5/5)

Note: heres the rest, yayayayyaya

Louis: “Lou! What did I tell you about doing that crap in the house?” you yelled stepping through the front door of your flat. Louis was lounging on the couch, shirtless, puffing smoke into the air. “Shut up, (Y/N),” he mumbled, walking out onto the balcony. You rolled you eyes at your inconsiderate boyfriend and cleaned up the ashes he left on the table. You went out onto the balcony and stood next to Louis. You both stay silent for a few minutes until you spoke up, “Why do you do this to yourself?” Louis flicked his cigarette and faced you, “My life. My body. I do what I want.” He blew a puff of smoke right into your face and walked off. “Get your ass back here!” you screamed after him. “What do you want now?” he groaned. “You never listen to me and I’m getting sick and tired of it!” you shouted, stepping closer to him. “I don’t have to listen to you, you’re not my mother. Get lost,” Louis retaliated, marching off into the bedroom. You froze. Louis had never talked to you like that before. Sure, you fought, but this was too much for you to handle. You felt tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t stay here any longer, Louis acted like you weren’t important to you anymore. All he cared about was drugs and alcohol. You grabbed your purse and slammed the door shut behind you. To be honest, you had no idea where you were going to stay. “(Y/N)?” Louis said, looking all over the flat for you. “Shit…,” he mumbled, grabbing his keys. Louis drove all over town looking for you. He was madly in love with you, although, he’d never admit it. He knew you were mad at him, but he just wanted to know you were safe. He was always nervous when you weren’t with him because he had so many enemies and he didn’t know if they would try to hurt you. His car came to a screeching stop when he saw you walk into a coffee shop. “(Y/N)!” he cried, hugging you when he finally got within your reach. You didn’t want to fight anymore, so you just fell into his arms. “I don’t like it when you walk off like that,” Louis said, tucking your hair behind your ears, “I don’t trust the people around here.” “Lou, you have to stop with all the stuff you do. I’m serious. I hate watching you kill yourself,” you sighed, scared of the thought of ever losing him. “I’m going to try, I promise. Just please come home,” he begged. You nodded and grabbed his hand. “I love you, (Y/N),” he said, admitting, for the first time, that you were his one and only forever.

Zayn: Zayn was in a punk-rock band. They weren’t famous or anything, they just played gigs around the area. You were always nervous when he went away because you never knew if he would revert back to his old ways of drugs, alcohol, gambling, etc. He was never gone for more than a day, but just one day of his old habits could do serious damage. You were packing up the rest of his overnight bag when you checked one of the pockets. “Damn it, Zayn!” you cursed to yourself as you pulled out a small bag of weed. You put the bag in clear view, so when he walked into the room, he’d know you found it. You waited patiently for him to come get his bag. “Thanks, baby,” he said, grabbing the handle and leaning in for a kiss. You moved back, making him stumble forward a bit. “What?” he asked, confused. You pointed over to the bag of drugs on the nightstand. He looked over and cursed under his breath. “Baby, that’s not mine,” he started. “Save it, Zayn. Have fun at your show,” you sneered, walking right past him. He didn’t argue with you and left, leaving the bag on the table. You spent the next 24 hours worrying constantly about him. You hadn’t eaten or even changed. You loved Zayn so much and it killed you thinking about what he could possibly be doing that could put him in danger. You could never forget the days where Zayn came home drunk every night, got high in the afternoons, and lost the month’s rent on some stupid game. You’ve threatened so many times to leave, but you didn’t because you were in love with him. You laid in bed looking at the ceiling when you heard him come home. “(Y/N)?” he said, walking into your bedroom. You didn’t move. He climbed into bed with you and took your hand. He didn’t reek of alcohol or smoke. He actually smelled like, peppermint. It was refreshing and you couldn’t help, but smile a bit. “I promise that shit isn’t mine,” he spoke, referring to the weed that you fought about the day prior. You turned your head to look at him. “Zayn,” you sighed. “No, I’m not done,” he continued, “I made a promise to you when I said I wouldn’t gamble, or drink, or smoke and intend on keeping it. I never want you to be disappointed in me. That was one of the other guys’s and it must’ve ended up in my bag by mistake. You have to trust me or we will just continue fighting and you know I hate that.” You leaned into him and traced his tattoos, “I trust you. I know you can do this and I’ll help you.” Zayn squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead. The two of you stayed in bed the rest of the day. As much as he thinks he is, Zayn’s not a bad boy at all. Just a teddy bear with loads of tattoos.

Niall: “(Y/N)! Come here!” Niall called from the front door. “Where have you been?” you asked, running down the steps. “Out,” he replied, throwing his jacket on the floor. He pointed to a brand new tattoo of a skull. “Really, Niall? Another one?” You rolled your eyes at him and walked into the kitchen. Niall followed you, “What? It’s my body! What do you care?” “I care about you, Niall. Everyday this week you have come home with another stupid tattoo! Look at yourself!” you shouted, throwing a dish towel at his chest. “Whatever. I’m leaving,” he muttered, leaving the house once again. You steadied yourself against the counter and let out a few silent sobs. No, you weren’t going to let yourself get upset over this. He obviously doesn’t care about you, so why are you even still here? There was a soft buzzing that interrupted your thoughts. You followed the sound into your bedroom, where you found Niall’s phone on the dresser. You went against your conscience and opened the text message. Hey Niall I got another ounce for you, let me know when you want it. You could feel your blood begin to boil. He had told you just last week that he had stopped with all these illegal drugs. You threw the phone at the wall and it shattered to the floor. “Stupid asshole,” you mumbled, through your sobs. You heard the front door close, about a half an hour later. You were still in the same spot. “What the hell happened in here?” Niall said, looking at the broken cell phone pieces. You ignored him. “I asked you a question, (Y/N),” he said. This time, his voice was much firmer and it was hard to ignore. “Don’t you need to go get another ounce?” you sneered, not bothering to look at him. “What are you talking about?” “I saw the message, Niall. You told me you were done with all of that shit.” You stood up and tried to walked past him, but he stopped you. “I did stop, (Y/N). I promise I did. I did it for you. I may lie, but I’ve never lied to you,” he said, looking into your eyes. You believed him. He’d never given you a reason not to. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, crying into his chest. Niall rubbed his hand back and forth on your back, “I will never ever lie to you, (Y/N). You have my word.” You smiled and laid your head on his shoulder. You could never stay mad at Niall, behind his rough exterior was a big teddy bear on the inside that has finally shone through, but only to you.

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