One Direction Preferences

Hickeys and Scratches

(T)

Liam:
Being the sensible cupcake that he is, he considered the way tomorrow might go. He knew the two of you were going to an interview tomorrow, so he kept the love bites to a minimal. He tried his best to stay away from your neck, leaving all his work on your hip bones. "After the interview, do you wanna go to the beach or something?" You asked, pulling yourself out of bed the next morning. Not even thinking about it Liam nodded. "Liam!" You shrieked from the bathroom. "I look like a fucking dalmatian!" He just laughed, throwing his face back into the pillow.

Zayn:
You and Zayn had a very, very late night last night. It didn't exactly start until you got home from a club at around two in the morning. He had gotten tipsy, but not quite as tipsy as you were. "I'm gonna make you scream so loud." Zayn growled, pulling down the zipper on your chest with his teeth. He didn't want to interrupt the loud moans you were making by kissing you, so he spent a fair amount of time on your neck. The next morning, the two of you weren't up until about noon. You remembered your lunch date with your boss. "Son of a bitch!" You groaned as soon as you got a good look in the mirror. "What is it?" Zayn asked, you turned around to look at him. "Nice work." You sassed, pointing to the black and purple bruises all over your neck.

Louis:
"Louis Tomlinson!" You yelled, coming home from a date with your girlfriends. "Yeah babe?" He asked, coming from around the corner, a sly grin playing his lips. "You didn't tell me?" You asked, pointing to your shoulder blades. You had been late to go and you left the flat, just slipping on a dress and heels. "Well, you didn't really give me any time for that love?" "Are you fucking kidding me, Lou?" He laughed, walking over to you, pushing the hair off your shoulders to show the marks he had left, bringing back a night of passion in his head. "No, I'm just fucking you." He smirked. You playfully smacked his arm. "Hey, (Y/N), it's not exactly easy to explain this to the guys." He laughed playfully, turning around and pulling his shirt over his head, showing you all the scratches over his back. A hand flew to your mouth, muffling the laugh that begged its way out of your lips. "Okay," you cackled, finding so much humour from the embarrassment the two of you must've faced this morning. "we're even."

Niall:
When it came to you and Niall in bed, Niall liked to use his tongue, and his fingers. You didn't complain, it was like endless pleasure for you. You would normally have your hands in his hair, constantly playing and pulling at his locks. When he would finally come back up to your mouth, done with his mouth and fingers he would work on your mouth and fingers, occasionally moving to behind your ear, your earlobes and so on. In reality, Niall was all about pleasuring you, anything making you happy was better than anything you could do to him. You always woke up with hickeys absolutely everywhere, but one morning you noticed the scratches on your legs. "Niall." You mumbled, pulling the sheets all the way off your body, "Hmm?" He mumbled, keeping his eyes closed. "How the hell did I get these scratches on my legs?" He sat up and opened his eyes, laughing, "That was all you, love." Before falling back onto his pillow.

Harry:
"Harold!" You laughed, he was tickling you on your couch in the living room and you had just about had enough. "I'm going to wet myself!" You squealed. He suddenly stopped pinning your arms to your sides. "Say I'm the best boyfriend ever!" He commanded, a threatening look oozing out of his eyes. "Okay, you're the best!" You laughed, "Good." He smiled letting go of your arms. You had to adjust your shirt as it was all awkward and on the wrong parts of your body. "Hold on." Harry stopped you as you went to pull it back over your shoulder. You stopped confused and looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows. This gave him a minute to inspect all the marks that he had left, other last week or just last night, they were all there, making him smile. "What are you doing?" You asked, finally continuing to fix your shirt. "Oh nothing." He moaned, leaning back into your neck, ready to make some brand new marks.