One Direction | Preferences

You can't kiss him because you're wearing red lipstick

You can’t kiss him because you’re wearing red lipstick

A/N: I whipped this up pretty quick, so sorry if it’s a bit repetitive! Enjoy :) x

Niall: You turn your head as soon as you notice Niall leaning forward, leading to his mouth bumping up against your cheek instead of your lips, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin as he realises he hasn’t connected with the right place. He huffs against your jaw, and pulls back, brow furrowed and hurt. You smile at him, slipping a hand beneath his t-shirt to rest on his hip, “I’m wearing red lipstick.” “And that’s a problem?” You laugh, and brush a stray eyelash from beneath his eye, “It is, actually. Mine will smudge, and it’ll get on your mouth.” He rolls his eyes, but lets it go, although he makes up for it as soon as you wipe it off that night. 

Harry: Harry’s hand wraps over your hip, twisting you around to face him and pulling you forward, so the skirt of your dress is crushed against his legs. “Harry, you’re going to wreck my dress,” you complain, trying to pull away, although he’s now linked his arms around your waist, so your efforts are pretty futile. He pouts at you, green eyes bright and happy, “Gimme a kiss and I’ll let you go.” You smack your lips together, and shake your head, “Sorry, red lipstick.” He frowns, “So?” “So, it’ll rub onto your mouth.” “I don’t care.” You tap his nose, and then drag your thumb over his bottom lip, managing to wriggle out of his grip, “Sorry, Haz.” You open the front door, and vaguely hear an, “I hate red lipstick,” behind you.

Liam: You grab his chin at the last minute, holding him just out of reach of your mouth, smiling apologetically at his irritated expression. “Sorry, Li. I’m wearing red lipstick.” He shakes his head in your hand, eyebrows furrowed, and you laugh, “I don’t care. I want to kiss you anyway.” “It’ll get all over your mouth.” He pretends to consider it, and then smiles brightly at you, “Nope, still don’t care.” “You’re an idiot,” you murmur, and nudge your nose against his, letting go of his jaw, his arms wrapping  around your waist, tugging you up against him, lips dragging over your cheek, leaving behind warm kisses. “Fine,” he huffs into your ear, and you brush a fingertip over his collarbone, “Thank you.” 

Louis: “Red lipstick, sorry, doll.” You squirm out of Louis’ grip, and he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes, although he moves it quickly, looking up at you from where he’s sprawled out on the mattress, white sheet pushed down to around his waist, hair messy and golden chest on display. “Please?” You shake your head, fluffing your hair in the mirror, before turning to look back at him, smiling. “I’ve gotta get going anyway.” He sticks his bottom lip out, and you roll your eyes, before going over, holding his head still, and kissing his mouth gently, rubbing away the red mark when you pull back. “Happy?” He grins, and nods, tangling a hand in your hair, “Very.” 

Zayn: Zayn’s following after you as you leave the bedroom and go into the hall, grabbing various things to put in your handbag before you reach the front door. “One kiss, that’s all I’m asking for,” he begs, and you turn back, finding him leaning against the doorjamb, shirtless and in grey sweatpants that are riding low on his hips, pouting at you. “Zayn, I really have to go, I’m already late. And I’m wearing red lipstick anyway.” “It’ll take you five seconds, please.” He huffs out a sigh, and pouts at you, looking awfully distraught. “You are such a child,” you complain, but hurry back to him, kissing him quickly before escaping so he can’t grab your waist and drag you back to him. “Hurry home!” he calls, and you smile at him over your shoulder as you open the front door, “I will.”