One Direction Preferences

#44 - You accidentally turn him on

Harry: “You really don’t have to do this, Harry,” you tell him, tightening your ponytail. You were pursuing a career as a professional dancer and were enrolled in a class, and you were about to practice a new routine all alone in the giant dance room, Harry deciding to tag along. “But I want to,” he stares at himself in the mirror. “What if you get bored?” You question, fixing up the iPod with its speakers. “Ah, I could never get bored of you, sweetheart,” Harry says, but it looks like he’s speaking to himself as he continues to examine himself in the mirror. You softly laugh, stretching out a bit before starting out with your routine. It was a bunch of different songs remixed together, all fast paced that require your body to sway and move sharply with your hips rolling in circles. Eventually you need to take a break, your forehead sweaty from the dancing. “Bored yet?” You pant at Harry who was sitting on the other side of the room, back against the wall, and he doesn’t really answer, instead his mouth drops open a little when you tilt your head back to drink some well-deserved cold water. “Baby,” he groans, “you’re killing me over here.” “What?” You laugh, standing above him. “You look so hot out there,” he looks kind of embarrassed, “you even look hot when you’re drinking water, I don’t understand how you do it,” he ends. You laugh loudly at your boyfriend, deciding to tease him more by taking off your sweatshirt that exposes a tight singlet, throwing the material at him with a smirk.

Niall: It’s been a lazy Friday afternoon, and you’re on your bed softly strumming your guitar, random songs and random words falling from your lips. You’re not much of a songwriter so you usually prefer covering songs than writing your own, and now you were somehow stuck on ‘… Baby One More Time’ by Britney Spears. You sit up properly as you get into the song, in nothing but your underwear and Niall’s shirt, and soon Niall comes in the room when you’re halfway through the song. “Show me, how you want to be…” You strum, and you see the blonde boy smile from the corner of your eye, “tell me baby, ‘cause I need to know now…” Your hair is kind of messy and Niall’s shirt is hanging loose on your shoulder, but him letting out a small moan still surprised you. You slowly stop playing, looking at him with a playful smile. “And what was that?” You ask. “Um,” he runs a hand through his hair, “don’t look so surprised. You look gorgeous in my clothes and you always make playing guitar look ridiculously hot,” he shrugs. “Come here you idiot,” you gently push the guitar aside, Niall tackling you onto your back.

Zayn: “Babe, are you ready yet?” You hear Zayn call from outside of the walk in closet. “We’re supposed to be leaving soon.” “I know, I know, I’ve done everything, I just can’t pick a dress,” you groan, sweeping your freshly curled hair behind you as you sort through your clothes. “Pick any,” Zayn enters the smaller room. “I can’t just pick any,” you roll your eyes at him, “boys,” you mutter, your eyes landing on a black dress you bought the other day. You examine it for a moment and decide it would do for the party you were about to leave, pulling the material oon. “Zip me up?” You look over your shoulder at Zayn who’s leaning against the doorframe, eyes lingering on your body. “Zayn?” You call, pointing to the zipper, and he snaps out of his daze. “Oh, sorry,” he blushes. You press your body against his, holding your hair to one side to avoid anything getting caught, and you feel Zayn place one hand on your waist. “You look hot,” he murmurs, making you smile, pulling the zipper up slowly. “You’re doing this to me on purpose,” he pulls you back against him, and you slowly turn, hands on his chest. “Doing what?” You raise an eyebrow, genuinely confused, moving in closer, and you hear him let out a muffled moan. “Jeez, really? Does everything turn you on,” you smirk at him, and soon you’re forgetting all about the night out. Where were you two going anyway?

Liam: “(Y/N), love, come here and taste this,” Liam smiles proudly at the dessert he’s just mad. “What is it?” You enter the kitchen, and you immediately smile at the chocolate cake sitting on the counter. “You’re perfect,” you kiss Liam on the cheek who immediately cuts you a slice. “What do you think? I made it all myself,” he says impatiently, digging a fork into the cake and pressing it against your lips. You quickly take a bit, your eyes widening at the taste. “Oh my god,” you groan, hand to your chest as Liam sets the fork down. “Is it bad?” He asks quickly. “No, no, it’s so good. What’s in that? Jesus, give me more,” you grab the fork from your boyfriend as you take a bigger bit. “Oh, god,” you sigh, eyes closing as you chew, “that’s so good. You’re so good,” you stare up at him. He instantly blushes as you dig into the cake, you letting out profanities every now and then about how goddamn good the cake was, and before you know it, Liam is pressing his lips against yours, picking you up from the stool and into his arms. “Wow,” you pull away from the passionate kiss, “what was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” you laugh, adjusting your shirt. “Didn’t you hear the sounds your making?” He smirks, and now it’s your time to blush.

Louis: “God, it’s so cold,” you complain as you exit the shower, body slightly shaking as you enter the bedroom. You feel comfort from the warm carpet beneath your feet and sigh happily when you can finally get to your hair dryer. “That’s what you get for having a shower this late, love,” Louis chuckles from the bed, laptop in front of him. “Shh, you,” you shout over the noise from the hairdryer. Finally you’re done, your hair no longer cold, and you grab some body lotion to make sure your skin doesn’t go dry. You sit by him on the bed, rubbing the cream up and down your legs slowly, before you hear Louis groan beside you. “Hm?” You raise an eyebrow. “You’re a tease, you know that?” He bites his lip. “I haven’t done anything,” you chuckle, tightening your towel as you put the bottle of cream away, Louis’s eyes looking you up and down. “You know exactly what you’ve done,” Louis pretends to glare. “Sorry,” you pout, though you really are enjoying it, and you know you make it worse when you finally toss the towel aside to put your underwear on.