One Direction Preferences

14 tender touches

Niall: It was playing with your hair, as if he could make music from them like a guitar by rubbing their silky strands between his fingers. You could be sleeping in bed, he could be writing a song, sitting in the car next to each other or animated in a movie on television, but no matter what, his hands would be on your hair. His fingers left his scent at the tips and sometimes when he was away and you were brushing your hair or a gust of wind danced through your strands, you would catch the faintest smell of him, and pressing your hair to your lips, would smile to yourself.

Liam: It was rubbing his thumb on your skin. When he held your hands at events or just at home with the family his thumb would endlessly trace small circles, printing the individual lines on his thumb on your hand. When you cried he rubbed away your drops of tears with his thumb, taking away small points of your pain each time. His touches were therapeutic like that. In the heat of kisses, the circles he traces on your neck grounded you in his love, brought you to life when his thumb trailed up your inner thigh during sex, and during fights when they rubbed on his own skin, would tease you enough to remind you why you loved him.

Zayn: It was a protective arm around your waist or shoulder to tell the world that you were his. There was not one paparazzi photo in which his arm was not bringing you to his side, or a sleeping night where he did not hold you in comfortable rest. Over time your skin had moulded with Zayn's hold. Your back seemed to curve in more, a beautiful groove for his arm, and your shoulders felt the exact weight of it even when he was half way around the world. In your mind you could place each tattoo on that arm, like the marks of missing and memory they also came to you, indicating the time until that arm, Zayn's arm, was around you again.

Louis: It was tangled legs, the ever tangled legs of yours and Louis' that you loved the most. In car rides to concerts you would mentally compare feet sizes, or who's vans were the most trendily dirty as he practiced his vocal for the set. When the two of you were lounging at home, throwing, happily sarcastic insults to each other over his tea and your homemade dinner, your legs would spread to meet under the kitchen table, or yours across his lap on the couch when it was a lazy night. During sex, when his thighs pressed into you, and your spread legs and bent knees were contracting besides his, fruition would come. And overall, your legs were just that bit longer when stretched out, which was great for teasing him with.

Harry: It was his hand gripping on to your legs whenever he felt particularly emotional. His long fingered fist would clench on your lap whenever something someone said rubbed him the wrong way, the only indication of his negative thoughts. Or when you were kissing his neck, bruising the skin there, the restraint to control himself could be felt in that same fist on your thighs. When he stretched over your body during cool downs after work outs, or when sharing tomato sauce stained chips on the floor of his house, the back of his hands would again rest on any available part of your legs, his strong knuckles peppering your skin. It was like you were part of him, his own legs had no use for his hands when you were around He always said, 'the feel of you is much better.'