One Direction Imagines and Preferences

Welcome Home

Niall: You’d been going crazy trying to think of ways to surprise him when he got home. You didn’t want to throw a party, that seemed too elaborate and honestly you just wanted him to yourself. Instead, you cleaned the entire house top to bottom. You cooked his favorite dinner and lit some candles. You dimmed the lights, played some music and made sure you had on his favorite outfit- which was nothing more than one of his t-shirts and your hair swept up. He was due any moment and your hands shook as you stood by the table you prepared. When the lock turned and the door opened, Niall’s silhouette filled the door frame. His bag dropped to the ground. “Holy shit,” he muttered on a delighted laugh. When his eyes fell to you, he gulped. You were more lovely, more beautiful than he remembered. In nothing but his shirt, he felt his throat go dry. He loved seeing you in his clothes, it was adorable. “You’ve out done yourself,” he whispered, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “Welcome home, baby,” you laughed as his arms snaked around your waist. He clutched you into his chest as he picked you up off the ground. “What a welcome it is,” he mumbled against your neck. “I missed you so damn much,” he closed his eyes and let his lips brush against your neck. “Me too,” you whispered, hands fisting in his hair. “I’m not letting you go,” he promised, sitting down and pulling you across his lap. “Not ever, don’t ask me to be apart from you for that long again. I can’t do it. I need you too much.”

Harry: He was so damn tired he could barely keep his eyes open on the car ride home. He wanted to be awake when he saw you for the first time after so long. It was close to 2:30 am, and he knew you’d be asleep but that didn’t matter. He just wanted to be able to look at you, wrap his arms around you and hold you the way he’d been dreaming of for the last three months. As he stumbled out into the night, his bags thrown over his shoulder, he made his way to the front door. He stepped into the living room, the familiar smell of your perfume filling the air. God, he’d missed that smell. His heart started to pound faster as he dropped his bags and locked the door. He crept up the stairs and down the hallway and pushed open your bedroom door. “Oh,” he mumbled, looking at you so lovely in sleep. Your hair was a mess around your pillow, his shirt barely visible in the lighting. You were squeezing his pillow to his chest with such force he could have cried. He slid into bed beside you, slowly drawing you into his chest. “Hi baby, hi,” he murmured, lips feathering over your cheeks. He’d never felt so awake in his life. You were here, in his arms finally. “Harry?” you mumbled, fingers sliding up his shirt. “Hi, my love,” he grinned, pressing his lips to yours. “Welcome home,” you sighed, kissing him back the way you’d been dreaming of for months. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispered, fingers knotting in your hair as he pulled you flush against him.

Liam: He was so, so impatient. It wasn’t even funny anymore. He’d done everything he could to keep himself occupied on the flight back. Nothing worked. Not movies, not music, not video games. He was too impatient to see you. He’d marched through the airport, sped home, ran to the front door- anything to cut down the time he’d have left to see you. When he pushed open the front door and found an empty living room, he nearly lost it. He dropped his bags and took the steps three at a time as he made his way towards your bedroom. He kicked the door open, hands clenching and unclenching into fists as his dark eyes scanned the room. “Someone’s impatient,” you laughed, stepping out of the bathroom. His jaw dropped, skin flushed over and his head began to swim. You were here and you were beautiful. “Babe,” he said hoarsely, watching you spin the silk robe tie between your fingers. “This isn’t quite how I wanted it,” you teased. “I wanted to be on the bed, ready,” you licked your lower lip and he groaned. “You’re going to kill me. It’s been months,” he crossed the small room and backed you into the wall, hands toying with the tie. “So you’ve missed me?” you asked, hands linking behind his neck. “I haven’t been able to breathe without you,” he rasped, lips brushing against yours. “Well, welcome home then,” you murmured as he untied the robe and his hands slid inside to touch your skin. “And what a welcome it is,” he said wickedly, backing you to the bed and covering your body with his.

Zayn: You’d been telling him for days he was in for the best surprise when he got home. He’d been racking his brain trying to think of what this surprise could be. He knew that you wouldn’t throw him a party, he didn’t like those. He knew that it wouldn’t be anything over the top because that’s not who you were together. In all honesty, he just hoped to have you waiting for him, arms open wide. When he stepped into the house and opened the box that was waiting for him, he frowned. Inside was a pink little ribbon. He opened the next box, and inside that was a pink little pony. He opened box after box, collectivizing each pink item as he made his way up the stairs. When he reached the last box, he shook it. It was light as air. He pushed open the door and you were waiting for him, just as he hoped. “Hi,” he smiled, holding all his new presents. “I love the welcome home gifts, but I’m not sure what they’re for,” he closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours. “Open the last one,” you said nervously. He did as you asked, flipping open the box lid with a flick of his thumb. Inside was an ultrasound picture. His hands shook, breath became uneven as his dark eyes met yours. “Welcome home, daddy,” you whispered, hand pressing to your stomach. “Really?” he asked hopefully, his hand covering yours. When you nodded, he let out a whoop. “We’re going to be parents!” he said in disbelief, clutching you to his chest. “This is the best welcome home ever,” he whispered against your neck. “We’re going to be a family,” he said in awe, “we’re going to be a family.”

Louis: You jumped up down trying to get a good look at the gate. His flight had just landed and you’d been waiting for close to an hour for him. The airport was packed and you weren’t sure how he’d see you in this mess. Security was flanking the area and you strained to see past them. Once you saw the shock of chocolate brown hair, you let out a yell. “Louis!” you called, waving your arms in the air. When the crowds parted and his eyes met yours, it was like time stopped. The noise fell away, the people disappeared. It was just the two of you, taking in greedy gulps as you looked at each other for the first time in months. He dropped his bags without thought and ran. The distance was closing and you opened your arms to him as his body collided into yours. “Finally,” he said, fingers tangling in your hair. “Finally,” you echoed, his scruff tickling your cheek. “I wasn’t sure you’d see me through all of this,” you admitted as he set you down. He shook his head, blue eyes bright. “I always see you,” he promised, leaning forward to press his lips to yours. “Welcome home,” you said softly against his lips. His hand laced through yours as he went back for his bags and slowly made his way through the airport. “I want to hold you tonight,” he said when you slid into the car. “Just me and you, okay? We can just order pizza. I don’t want to see anyone, don’t want to do anything. I just want to hold you, is that okay?” he pressed his lips to your knuckles and you nodded, throat thick. “Good, because I’ve missed you so much.”