Harry - pebbling down your spine, drumming the spikes of bone under the surface of your skin. He smirks over you as he does it, after sex when you’re laying on your stomach, giggling warm into your arms crossed near your head. “Does that feel good, babe?” He murmurs drawn and deep, rustling your skin and pebbling up and down, up and down.
Liam - tickling your ears where he holds your face, smiling into kissing you, trapping you so you can’t laugh away from him, or his cheesy pick up lines. He brushes your cheeks with his fingertips, mumbling by your lips, “you’re so beautiful, babe,” before he decides to kiss you, holding you, squeezing into blushing cheeks and into your hair.
Louis - raking your arms as you lay on the couch together, and he smiles over when you feel it, soft tips so soft on skin, draping you. He catches your eyes, “you like that, babe?” His lips part a little, fingertips making your skin tickle when he goes up and down, catching your shoulder and rolling the skin, before sloping back down again.
Zayn - catching parts of you, where you’re curled in front of him, eyes on the movie startling the TV screen, pressing into your skin and dimples in your flesh. He smiles at the sight of your figure, tucked into underwear and one of his sweaters, atop a blanket on the living room floor. He watches the way you breathe, inhale and exhale, fingertips gliding over your hips and thigh.
Niall - tiptoeing over your skin when he’s sprawled in bed, near your legs and his head dropped to your thigh, resting there. He smirks down to your skin, and spreads patterns into your leg with his fingertips, a little rough from plucking guitar strings, “your skin is so soft, babe,” he mumbles into you, droopy eyes where he looks around, circling words into your skin to see if you can guess them.
