One Direction Preferences

20-You wear his shirt

CREADIT TUMBLR

Niall: Thunder burst through your house, making rain hit your windows loudly. Niall was still at the studio, probably working with some guitar chords. You sat on your couch, eyes on the rain washed driveway, waiting his black Ranger Rover to appear. It was a bit cold, making you shiver when you tried to wrap your hands around your torso, to keep you warm. “C’mon baby,” you whispered, wishing that he would hear your pray and come home soon. You hated thunder storms, and being alone didn’t make it any better. A loud thud of thunder made you squeal before getting up and running to your bedroom as quickly as possible. You shook on the doorway, shutting the door behind you before grabbing the first Niall’s shirt you saw on the laundry basket. It was soft around your gentle skin, making you smile. The sleeves were way too long and the hem covered your shorts, but it was like a secure blanket, making you protected. The blue material of his ‘Skool Sucks’ shirt was the same color with his eyes. “Princess?” Niall’s voice echoed through the thunder, making you sigh in relief when you opened the bedroom door, running to see him. He was soaked; his light green snapback was turned in to dark green, salmon colored hoodie was dripping wet and his knees were shaking under his short shorts. “Car didn’t work, so I ran,” he muttered, small smug smile on his face when he observed your frozen figure with his blue eyes. You rolled your eyes, making him burst out laughing. “Oh baby,” you giggled, shaking your head before starting to peel his soaked clothes off his trembling, freezing body. You were pulling his white t-shirt off, revealing the pale skin, when he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you look straight at his deep, blue eyes. “I love when ye wear my clothes,” he hummed, pecking your lips gently. His lips where freezing under yours. “It makes ye look so fuckin’ sexy.”

                                                                                                                                                     

Louis: The sun was beaming through the window in your bedroom. You sighed lightly, eyes close when you let your hand travel to the place where Louis had been sleeping. Instead of finding your boyfriend’s warm, muscular body, your hand hit cold, ruffled sheets. You poked your eyes open, groaning to the sight of empty bed. You sat up rubbing your eyes. Sleep was still slurring your head, making your thoughts hazy. The sheets around you were warm against your naked body. Last night’s actions had made you exhausted and sore, tingling in every muscle and nerve you had. You smiled a little, running your fingers around your skin, remembering his needy touch on you. You reached to your panties, sliding then on, smirking to two lovebites in your inner thighs. They were hurting now, but the night before nothing had felt better than his bites while his brown hair brushed your inner thighs. You reached to his black t-shirt what he had took off and left to the floor. It felt like he would have wrapped his arms around you, making you dizzy with his cologne. After brushing your teeth, you tiptoed to the living room where Louis sat on the couch. Morning TV was on, cartoons playing silently when he drank his tea in peace. “Hi love,” he cheered when you snuggled against his bare chest. He was only wearing soccer shorts, leaving his tattooed torso to your eyesight. “Mmh,” you mumbled, kissing his side when he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close so he could kiss the top of your head. “Nice shirt,” he smirked, making you laugh to your kiss before lifting your head up and reaching to kiss his warm lips. You could taste the perfect mix of tea, toothpaste and just him. “I think it fits me well,” you smiled back, looking down at your clearly too big shirt. Louis laughed, kissing your temple, “It fits quite well, love, but it would fit to the floor better.”

Zayn: You sighed, rolling to his side of the bed, eyes facing the wall. He was still at the tour, making you miss him like never before. Big, salty tears ran down your cheeks, landing to the pillow when you sniffled in the dark night. It was almost midnight, making you a bit sleepy. He promised he’d call when he’d reach the hotel where they were stopping next, but your phone stayed dead, making warm tears dry to your skin. You pressed your head against the pillow, breathing hard through your loud cries. Everything felt so empty and grey, it felt like you were all alone in the world. You needed his touch and gentle kisses. You needed to hear his sweet voice and deep chuckles that still after all the years made your heart beat faster. Standing up you walked to your bathroom, splashing cold water to your tired skin. You stepped out of your own shirt, cradling yourself to his Jimi Hendrix shirt. It smelled just like him. A hint of his cologne, a bit of smoke, but everything else was pure Zayn. Tears blurred your vision when you laid back to your bed, rolling to his side before drifting to peaceful slumber. “Boo,” someone whispered a moment later, making you startled in the small room. You opened your eyes, seeing Zayn’s brown eyes near yours when he pressed his warm lips against yours. “Have you been crying again?” He asked, guilt bursting through his voice. You stared at him, too afraid to blink, worrying that he was just a dream. “Zayn,” you whispered, eyes blurring with tears again when you realized that he really sat next to you. “Oh boo,” he sighed when you crashed yourself against him, crying and laughing at the same time. “What are you doing here?” you asked, not giving him time to answer when you kissed him passionately. “I had to see you,” he grinned, hands against your lower back before straddling you. “You have my shirt,” he mumbled happily, pressing his head against your chest, kissing the material over your boobs. “It smells like you,” you whispered, making him grin when he pressed his lips to yours, locking them. “I love you.”

 

Harry: You cried in frustration, throwing another piece of clothing back to your closet, shutting the doors and sitting down on the floor only in your underwear. Tears slipped down your cheeks when you pressed your head against your hands, letting few sobs fill the air. “Kitten, What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Harry’s yell echoed through the house when he ran to the doorway, with worried, green eyes. You lifted your head to see his worried expression, biting your lip when tears flooded your cheeks again. “I’m fat,” you cried, burning lump in your throat making your sobs escape. Harry’s muscles relaxed when he looked at you, sad expression on his face. His brown hair was messily back with bandana, white button-up and shorts making him look like sexgod, when you looked like a cow. “You’re not fat kitten,” he cooed gently, sitting next to you to the floor, hand reaching to your four months old baby belly, “you’re carrying a miracle.” You shook your head, biting your lip when another sob made the silence crack. “What if I’m still fat when she’s out?” You cried, staring at your knees, shoulders shaking. He had wrapped his strong, tattooed arms around you, rocking you back and forth on his lap, kissing your temple gently. “You’re not,” he sighed, long fingers tracing patterns to your baby belly’s skin. Your belly button was almost popped out, making Harry smile gently when he ran over it with his gentle touch. “But what if I am?” you sniffled, lifting your red eyes to look at Harry’s green ones. He kissed you deeply, making butterflies to your belly. “Then you’re the most beautiful woman and mother in the whole wide world,” he said with a low, stern voice. His eyes were staring straight at you, making sure you’d get it. He wasn’t going to leave you. “Um, here,” he smirked, taking his shirt off, sliding it to you. It was perfect size, making your baby belly show only a little, but still was loose and airy. “Thank you,” you sighed, kissing his plump lips when he sat next to you, tattoos black and sexy against the tanned skin. “Anything for my girls,” he hummed happily, kissing you again, making you giggle.

Liam: You laid next to him in the bed, legs wrapped to each other when he hummed silently, letting his hand ran through your hair gently. His heart beat against your ear, making a small smile creep to your face when you listened his steady beats. “What do you think about the flowers? I think beige is neutral with all the other colors, but is it too boring?” you asked, hands resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing his muscles when he shivered under you, smirking to your hair. “I like the flowers, babe, stop worrying,” he smirked, making you nod against his chest. He was so calm, making you breathe easier. “Do you think it will be raining tomorrow?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence, making Liam chuckle again. “You checked it dozen time, babe, it won’t rain,” he smiled, placing his other hand to your lower back, rubbing it lightly. “You really love that tanktop, don’t you,” he chuckled smirking, looking down to his white England tank top what you had slid on, making yourself comfortable. “Yes,” you muttered, smile on your face when you sat up quickly, making Liam beam on you. “Why won’t we run away, I want to be married in this tank top,” you laughed, making Liam roll his eyes playfully. “Stop worrying, darling, everything will go great tomorrow,” he murmured, sitting up and placing his firm lips on yours. You tangled your hands on his hair, biting his lower lip when his hands rubbed your thighs. You smiled, breaking the kiss, lips traveling to his birthmark. “We don’t have time, they’re going to take you to B/F/N any minute now,” Liam breathed, hands still traveling under his loose tank top, to twist your nipples. “I love this shirt too,” he grinned against your lips, parting only when a loud knock made you jump. “They’re here,” you smirked, slipping out of his shirt before putting your own back on. “See you tomorrow Mr. Payne,” you smirked against his lips when he closed you to his embrace. He let a proud grin spread to his face before hugging you again, “I can’t believe we’re gonna get married tomorrow! I’m so happy Mrs. Payne.” You giggled, kissing his cheek before turning to leave, “For your information, I’m getting the tank top tomorrow. Wife’s privileges.“