One direction and 5 Seconds of Summer preferences and images

He falls asleep on you

Calum: “M’tired.” He murmurs in to your neck, his hair tickling your collarbone as he lays against your shoulder. “Go back to bed, Cal. Movie’s almost over.” You feel your eyelids droop as the statement leaves your lips, a yawn forming in the base of your throat while you stare at the television screen. Almost everyone is asleep by now, Ashton is curled up on the end of the couch while Michael sleeps on the floor and Luke is holed up in his bunk. But you can’t bring yourself to leave the movie while it’s minutes away from finishing. Calum shifts his body closer towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, his face nuzzling further in to your shoulder as soft breaths leave his mouth. “Good night.” He whispers quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your skin and closing his eyes, his breaths growing slower and deeper as he falls in to a quiet slumber.

Ashton: ”This is so boring.” He whispers as the professor drones on and on about the constitutionality of domestic surveillance. “Mhmm.” You murmur and continue to take notes on the subject. “I’m goin’ to sleep.” He says and stretches his legs on to the empty seat next to him, his torso laying in the space his bum was just on and his head resting on your legs. “Nice view down here.” He cracks cheekily and you glare down at him. “Shut up and go to sleep.” You whisper and he smiles before patting your thigh and obeying your command, his eyes fluttering shut as he sleeps in the back of the lecture hall. He looks almost angelic as he dreams, his thick lashes brushing against the ivory skin of his cheekbones and his dimples indenting gently in his cheeks. And hours later, when the classroom has cleared, he’s still sleeping, still dreaming - still looking angelic as ever.

Luke: “I hate long flights.” He whines, removing the earbud from his ear and settling back in to the seat with a pout on his lips. “We’ve only got a few hours left, babe. Might as well go back to sleep.” You take the earbud from his fingers and place it in your other ear as he looks up at you. “Sleep with me?” He begs and you smile softly as he leans his head on your shoulder, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he sighs contentedly. You remove the earbuds from your ears and entwine your fingers with his as he rubs soothing circles on your hand with his thumb. It’s not much longer before soft snores leave his mouth and his head is falling towards your chest, automatically nuzzling in to your collarbone as he sleeps quietly despite being thousands of feet in the air. “Goodnight, Luke.” You whisper before pressing a soft kiss to his blonde hair and putting the earbuds back in.

Michael: He flushes the toilet and sits back on his knees, running his fingers through his blonde hair in frustration. “It’s been four days, when is it going to stop?” You rub his shoulder as he lays down on the cool tile floor, his head resting in your lap and his feet against the wooden door. “I’m just so tired of being sick.” He whispers and you push stray strands of hair from his feverish forehead. “Go to sleep, babe. Sleep is the only thing that will help right now.” A groan leaves his lips but he obeys, his eyelids fluttering shut over his green irises and his head remaining in your lap. “It’ll be better in the morning, Michael. I promise.” You whisper before kissing his forehead and continuing to play with his hair. Moments later, when you hear soft snores escape his lips, you realize how much of a toll this illness has taken on him - and just how badly you want him to get better.