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Love Me Hemmo (Twitter, wattpad and instagram)
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Little Black Dress
Niall: His mouth is immediately on the floor as you step into the room, a bright smile on your face. “So what do you think?” you ask, twirling for effect. “Jesus,” he mutters, watching the skirt flair up to your knees. “Does it look bad?” your face falls and Niall plows a rough hand through his hair. “Jesus, no, it’s amazing, you look incredible I just…” he trails off, shaking his head as he takes a deep breath. “Just what?” you ask quietly, moving closer to him. “I want to rip it off of you,” he says darkly, hands tracing the hem of the skirt. “Oh,” you say on a sigh as he stands in front of you, eyes dark on your face as his hands trail down your shoulders. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he says gruffly, turning you so that your back was to his chest. “This thing doesn’t have a back, did you know that?” He ran his index finger down your spine, goosebumps breaking out in its wake. “Your skin is so soft,” his mouth touched your shoulder as he undid the one button that held the dress together behind your neck. “We’re going to be late,” he promised, backing you to the bed. When the dress fell to the floor, his mouth ran up your spine. “You’re gunna be loud for me baby, as loud as I want, right?” He asks nuzzling your neck. When you nod, he grins, hands slipping down between your legs to make you as crazy as you made him.
Harry: He literally can barely control himself as he watches you cross and uncross your legs again. With each movement you make, the hem of that little black dress slides up higher and higher, barring more skin by the second. He desperately wants to run his hands along the exposed flesh and to the little scarp of black lace he knows is underneath it. The lights pass through the windows and his head falls back against the seat of the limo in distress. “Do you have to do that?” He growls, fists clenching and unclenching. “Do what?” You ask, shifting again. He groans, pressing his hands into his eyes. “Your dress is so short,” he moves closer, index finger circling your knee. “Is it? I have t noticed,” when the dress comes up almost to the point where it’ll be around your stomach, Harry drops to the floor on front of you. “What have you got on under this?” He asks, large hands sliding up your thigh to grab your hips. He drags you down the seat, baring he matching panties to the dress. “Oh baby,” he groans, head falling to your stomach. “What about the top?” His hands slide up your tummy and you stop him. “I don’t have a top,” you whisper. Immediately he seals his mouth to yours, hands sliding the dress down. “I’m not leaving this car until my mouths been on every inch of you.”
Liam: He’s got wicked, wicked thoughts rolling around in his head as he tries to pay attention to the movie in front of him. He knew there was press everywhere, hundreds of stars and his coworkers at this movie premiere, but damnit, you looked amazing in that little black dress and all he wanted to do was trace the swell of each breast with his tongue until you were begging for him. He shifted uncomfortably, crossing his legs to alleviate some of the tension he was feeling. “Something wrong?” You ask him slyly. You can feel the growl roll off of him as his eyes drop to your cleavage. “You’re teasing me,” he whispers, his hand dropping to your knee. His skin was so warm, hands so thick and worn that it made you shiver. “Maybe,” you shrug, eyes on the screen. Liam loves to be teased, but he loves making you crazy even more. “When we get out this movie,” he whispers, breath hot on your neck, “I’m going to trace the top of this dress with my tongue. I want you to leave your heels on when I slip inside you because your legs are so damn long and so damn sexy like that,” he says huskily. Your hearts beating so loudly you can hardly hear the movie going on. “That’s a promise baby, I just hope you’re ready for me.”
Zayn: As soon as you zip the back of the dress up, he wants it off of you already. It’s black and clings to every single inch of you and he curls his hands into fists from stopping himself from tearing the fabric to shreds. It doesn’t help he knows whats underneath, a certain little red silk set he may have picked up for you. “Can you hand me my shoes?” you ask, pointing to the red heels by his feet. He grunts and shoves them toward you, his blood pressure rising through the roof. And he knew that you were making him crazy on purpose by picking your highest shoes and smallest dress. “What do you think?” You ask, arms out by you side. “I think I’d rather stay here,” he says darkly. You wrap your hand around his tie and drag him close, the heels making you the same height as him. You lick your lower lip in invitation and his hands dig into your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him against your thigh and you rub into him. “We don’t have time,” he grins and sits you down on his lap. “I want the dress on and the shoes on. I want to have you like this, and I want these to stay off all night,” he pulls your panties down his leg and discards them. “I want to know that at any moment, I can sneak off with you and find you ready and waiting for me, baby girl.”
Louis: He’s only got one thing on his mind; how much damn skin your showing. He knew you did it on purpose, god, you loved to tease him and he loved to be teased. Except right now when he was already aching for you and just oh, so desperate to touch you. You wouldn’t let him. You told him you were going to play a game, he couldn’t touch you at all that night, he could only look. And oh, was he looking. Little black dress, high, high heels and heavily hooded eyes that made him think of sex. So as he’s standing in the midst of the party, fingers clenched into his palms as he watches you laugh and toss your hair over your shoulder, he wants to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you and run his mouth over every inch if skin showing- and there’s a lot. There’s hardly anything left to the imagination at this point and that makes him crazier. “Don’t,” you warn as he sneaks up behind you. “Don’t you want to wait till tonight, when you can’t wait to touch me anymore and it’s just going to be so good because I get to undo every button of that shirt, slowly, because you still won’t be able to touch me, and I’ll get to run my mouth all over you? Don’t you want to see this little black dress to the floor?” When he nods, jaw agape you smile. “So patience baby. You’ll get what you want soon enough, but until then,” you touch your lips to his, “I’m in charge.”
