One Direction Imagines and Preferences

I want you

Harry: Barely through the front door and his lips were attached to yours. His bags were still in the car, but he’d get those later. “Been…too long,” he says between kisses. Both of yours shirts are thrown somewhere, your back pressed against the wall. He pulls back, catching his breath, his forehead against yours. “God I want you. I want you so damn much.” Harry latches his lips to your neck and collar bones, creating bruising that will for sure be there tomorrow.

Niall: A tight black dress and whatever was underneath was the only thing separating Niall and you. His hand was seated close to the edge of your dress, his fingers playing with the hem that was inching higher and higher. Eventually his fingers flicked the edge of the lacey panties, his husky voice against your ear. “We’re leaving soon. I want you in the backseat sprawled out for me, yeah? Been fucking teasing me all night in this.” He places a hot kiss under your ear, a weighty laugh plays against your hair when he hears your heavy breathing.

Louis: “Naked on the bed by the time I’m home, do you understand?” His voice is hot with want and desire, turning you on even more. “What if I’m not?” you say innocently, biting your lip. A frustrated groan emits from his chest, “Then I guess I’ll have to punish you. And I don’t want to have to do that.” His eyes are clouded with lust, his fists squeezed tight from the effect you’re having on him. You smile wildly, kissing him hard, pulling back with his bottom lips between your teeth.

Liam: He was pissed. His teeth were gritted together, his eyes on fire. “You made me fucking angry tonight,” he growls, hands giving your ass a tight squeeze. “Wearing that dress. All them blokes had their eyes on you. Gotta make sure you know who you belong to.” His hand smacks against your bare bottom, a groan busting from your lips. “Who do belong to?” Smack. “You, Liam,” you breathe out. “And who do you want?” Smack. “You,” you whimper. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He’s toying with you, and god, you love it. “I want you. Only you.” He’s satisfied with this, “Good girl.”

Zayn: It was young love—that was for sure. Both smitten with each other, hearts wide open. He was hovering over you, eyes concerned as he looked into yours. “Are you sure?” Zayn’s biting his lip, “I don’t want to hurt you.” You gave him a small smile. “Yes,” you nod, “I want you, Zayn.” You kiss him for reassurance, breaths coming out shaky from nerves. He laces his fingers through yours, giving them a squeeze. “I love you,” he says wholey, every ounce of his love pouring out in those words.