One Direction Preferences

This is just some One Direction Preferences

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11. You’re Afraid

Fear of the Dark - Harry:

You always had an irrational fear of the dark, ever since your older brother, Your/Brother’s/Name, had told you that story. It had been around midnight, when he’d whispered the dark tale to you, one of monsters, and killers hiding in your wardrobe.
You’d been only five years old, but that tale followed you for the rest of your life.
And so, when the lights in your apartment suddenly turned off, it was only a natural reaction for you to start panicking.
Your heart rate picked up, and you trembled as you sat on your leather couch. You brought your knees up to your chest, and started rocking back and forth, whispering to yourself as you attempted to convince your mind that everything was okay, that you’d be fine. You shut your eyes, trying to block out the bad thoughts, but doing this just seemed to make more of them creep in.
A sudden knock on the door pulled you out from this tangle of thoughts, and your eyes snapped open, sending the dark things away, but only for a moment.
Your mind told you that the story had come true, that a killer was at the front door of the flat you shared with your boyfriend.
You stood up, and you could feel your hands shaking as you reached for the brass doorknob, turning it slowly, holding your breath as you pulled the door open, awaiting the moment you would come face-to-face with death…
“Y/N?”
His voice rang out through the silence of the flat, not the voice of an intruder, the voice of your boyfriend.
“Harry!” You yelled, thankful that he was here, his presence shooing away all the bad thoughts and images swirling through your mind. You ran into his arms, sobbing as you explained to him what had happened.
He held you, and sat with you in the living room until the power came back on.

 

Fear of Failure - Liam:

The pressure was building as you sat at your desk, buried underneath piles of papers and assignments. School was becoming too much. Your head hurt and back ached. You longed for the comfortable bed in the other room, the cushioned chair in the living room, anywhere but where you were, really.
But your assignments and papers were due soon, and big tests were coming up, so you had no choice but to sit there and study for hours on end.
And that little voice in the back of your mind kept reminding you, telling you that it wouldn’t be enough, telling you that you’d still fail those exams and assignments, no matter how long you sat here for, because you weren’t good enough.
And that worried you.
“Y/N, you need to take a break.” Your boyfriend said softly, standing behind you and the uncomfortable wooden chair you sat in.
“I can’t, or I’ll fail. I need to study.” You argued, trying to make sense of the notes written before you.
Your brain had turned to mush, and you knew it. It had happened around four hours ago, but you still forced yourself to work long into the night.
“It’s three a.m. You need to sleep.” Liam said sternly, kissing your cheek as he gently took your hand, pulling you away from the desk and into the bedroom.
You stumbled behind him unwillingly, trying to escape from his strong grip. He wasn’t hurting you, he would never do that, but you could tell that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to escape from him.
“You’ll thank me later.” He said.
“You mean when I fail? I have to study!” you argued, pouting as you looked into his eyes, a look of despair on your face.
He didn’t say a word, just watched you as you stared back at him. You stood like this for a moment, in complete and utter silence, before you admitted it.
“I’m scared.”
Two words, spoken in a hushed tone, and the minute they left your mouth, Liam pulled you into a hug, holding you close to his warm body.
“I’m scared I’ll fail, that I’ll do badly.” You whispered into his chest, sobbing.
And he held you like that, humming to you quietly in your ear, until morning.

 

Fear of Being Photographed - Zayn:

It wasn’t his fault. He had no idea that you were afraid.
But that didn’t change the fact that you were.
The blinding lights flashed, and you heard the familiar and frightening sound of the cameras taking photographs.
Snap. Snap.
Hundreds of them, swarming around you as you walked, taking photographs of you and your boyfriend.
Click. Click.
“Zayn! Y/N!” they called, trying to catch your attention as you walked from the restaurant. Their voices were loud, but you struggled to hear them.
Everything seemed to go quiet, and slow down. You could no longer hear the sounds of the cameras going off, or the paparazzi calling your name. You couldn’t hear Zayn as he looked at you nervously; asking you what seemed like an important question you didn’t know the answer to.
You felt your legs shaking, along with your hands, and you gripped onto Zayn’s arm, trying to keep yourself from falling. You stumbled forwards, and Zayn caught you.
He called your name, but you couldn’t hear it, only read it from his lips.
“Y/N…” they spoke, but not a sound coming out.
You collapsed to your knees, panting as you tried to breathe, trying to cling onto reality. You couldn’t breathe properly, and you felt the paparazzi closing in on you.
You imagined the phantom sound of the cameras, loud in your mind, echoing, repeating.
Snap. Click. Snap. Click.
Your vision was fading, the darkness engulfing you as you gripped Zayn’s arm, trying to keep yourself from floating away and into the land of darkness.
“Back off!” He screamed, his voice muffled, as he yelled in anger at the men and women behind cameras, all of whom were snapping pictures and asking questions.
They hushed, and glanced at each other, before shuffling back a few steps, taken off guard by the celebrity’s outburst.
“Can you hear me?” his voice spoke, a look of concern and anxiety on his face as he looked into your eyes.
You nodded, hearing the words.
“Just breathe.” He told you, stroking your cheek as you tried to compose yourself.
“I don’t like cameras…” you whispered once you calmed down, smiling slightly.
He chuckled, and helped you up.
The paparazzi didn’t bother you much after that night.

  

Fear of Closed-In Spaces - Louis:

It was an ordinary day, just like every other, except today, Louis made you take the lift instead of the stairs.
“It takes less time.” He had told you, having no idea of your fear as he pulled you into the elevator, closing the doors and pressing the button for the fifth floor.
You just nodded, holding his hand as the lift started moving, moving at an irrational speed.
Or maybe it was rational, maybe that was just your fear talking.
The elevator moved quickly to the third floor, and then, froze. The lift jerked and squealed with the sudden halt, and the blood rushed out of your head. The lights and music in the elevator turned off without warning.
You knew what was happening..
The lift was stuck.
Louis sighed, pulling out his phone and calling the front desk. He began to explain to them what had happened, but you didn’t pay any attention. Instead, you started freaking out.
You could feel your hands and legs shaking, and you sat down next to Louis, who was still speaking to the employees at the front desk.
You felt like the walls were closing in on you, as if they were squishing all of the oxygen out of the lift, leaving you to die.
You were breathing in short, rapid breaths, but it seemed as if none of it was actually going to your lungs. You felt as if you were suffocating.
Louis had hung up, with a promise that the lift would be working again soon.
Your heart was beating quickly, like the wings of a hummingbird, and was thumping in your chest so hard you could hear it pounding in your ears.
What seemed like hours later, though would have only been a few moments, the music in the elevator started up again and the lights flickered on, but the lift still didn’t move. The slow and quiet song broke the silence in the elevator, but it did nothing to solve your worries.
“You okay, love? You look a little pale…” Louis spoke in a hushed tone, turning to your panicking figure.
You shook your head, unable to form words in this state.
Louis took your cold, clammy hands in his, warming them up as he looked into your eyes, worry all over his face as he watched you with his usually-bright eyes, dimmed for the moment as he watched you.
“You’ll be okay. We’re both going to be okay.” He promised, a promise that he had no control over.
You nodded, and a few minutes later, the elevator started moving again.
“Never taking the lift again…” you whispered to him as the doors hissed open, a cheerful ding ringing through the elevator as it announced the arrival to the designated floor.
Louis agreed. 

 

Fear of Flying - Niall:

You sat in the leather seats of the plane, watching as the flight attendants waved their hands with fake smiles plastered on their faces, going through safety procedures if the plane was to have an emergency.
Say, crash and burn.
Yeah, it wasn’t doing too much to soothe your fear of flying.
Niall sat beside you, watching you as you gripped the arm of the seat for dear life.
“You okay, Y/N?” he asked, furrowing his brow in concern as he watched your pale figure.
You nodded, stumbling over your words, “I-I’m fine.”
But he could tell you didn’t mean it from your shaky voice and the way your eyes darted around the room, full of fear.
“You’ll be okay,” he soothed, trying to calm you down, “Have you ever flown before?”
You shook your head, no. If it had been up to you, you wouldn’t have been now. After all, you didn’t understand what people saw in being hundreds of metres off of the ground, supported by absolutely nothing but machines that could fail at any time, causing the plane to plummet at a speed it would be impossible to survive from.
The flight attendants finished going through safety procedures, and the passengers were told to buckle their seat belts for take-off.
“I want to get off.” You told Niall after you had buckled your seat belt, sitting in the leather seat as you mulled over the likelihood of surviving this three hour trip.
He looked at you sympathetically, grabbing your hand in his.
You heard the engines of the plane start up, all four of them, the loud sound drilling into your mind and slowly driving you to insanity.
You whimpered as the plane started moving across the runway, building up speed.
Niall started rubbing his thumb across the skin of your hand, trying to soothe you.
The loud sobs wracked your body, rising as you realised that the plane had taken off and was going higher and higher up, into the sky.
“How do you do this all the time?” you whispered to Niall, turning to face his worried face.
He smiled slightly, trying to reassure you that everything would be okay. He shrugged his shoulders, rolling them in a manner as if to shrug off the question.
“Hey! Don’t act all macho!” you complained, pouting as you looked desperately at him, the tears building in your eyes.
He smiled again, before bringing you into his chest. The strong and monotonous beating sound of his heart sent you into a deep sleep, and you stayed there until the plane landed and the wheels touched the ground.

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