One Direction Imagines and Preferences

Don't Stop

 

Niall: “Feels good,” he says sleepily, eyes half closed as you run your fingers up and down his back. You grin into the darkness as his sigh fills the room. This is his favorite way to fall asleep, your fingers on his skin and your soft breath on the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help the array of chills that spread across his body as your lips gently touched his shoulder blade. “Don’t stop,” he says hoarsely, eyes fluttering closed as your lips touch the back of his neck. “Feel good?” You smile, letting your lips and fingers work together to relax him. You didn’t need to ask to know; his strangled moan was his only response. It was the only sound in the room as your lips ran down his spine, stopping at the base of his shorts. You worked your way back up,  lips slowly moving across each freckle, each hill and valley his body had to offer you. When he turned, eyes blazing out at you, he gathered you into his chest. His fingers ran down your back, lips dusting across your eye lids and cheek bones.  God, did he love you. “Nothing makes me feel as great as you do,” he says softly, lips rubbing against yours, “it’s only you.”

Harry: You felt restless tonight, keyed up for some explainable reason. Maybe it was because Harry hadn’t come to bed yet. You always had an awful time sleeping without him. You knew the only cure for that was Harry. He had a sense of calm about him, something in his touch and eyes that relaxed you and let you know that you were safe, you could just be. ”Can you play with my hair?” you ask him late that night when you can’t sleep. You’d tried everything, milk, medicines, nothing worked. Hair playing was one of the easiest ways to relax you and send you off. “‘Course babe, come here,” he pats his chest as you curl up against him like a kitten, letting his long fingers work through your hair. As you relax against him, Harry took the time to study the way your eye lashes rested against your cheek and the content little sighs you let slip past your lips as he lulled you to sleep. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured, gently pressing his lips to the top of your nose. “Don’t stop,” you whisper on a sleepy breath. He grins, tangling his hands in your hair. “Never baby,” he promises, letting his eyes drift shut.

Liam: He knew exactly what buttons to push to make you beg, how to send you over the edge until you were mindless of everything but him and the way he was touching you. And when you sighed, his name a half plea, half curse falling from your lips, he knew that he was making you feel so damn good. He loved it. He loved it even more when your nails scraped down his back and you bowed beneath him, letting him absolutely take control. “Please,” you whimper as his hips rotate into your again. His arms are straining as he supports himself above you, eyes nearly black in the light. “Please what?” he pants, letting himself thrust into you just a little bit faster. “Don’t stop,” you beg, eyes rolling back into your head as he reaches between your bodies. He grins, watching your skin flush over a rose gold color. “More of this?” he asks wickedly, hips pulling away from yours. You nearly screamed, it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. “Oh, this,” he says sinking inside you again. When you nodded, he laughed. “Then hold on baby,” he says hotly, hips slamming back to yours. “Because there’s no way I’m everstopping.”

Zayn: He doesn’t even realize how much he sang around the house. Even for normal, boring things, Zayn was singing different bits of his favorite songs mashed into one. Sometimes he rapped, sometimes he didn’t different arrangements of songs, his high note filling the house and reaching you. It was a joy to hear, and when he was gone, the house had never been more silent. Even now, when he was making sandwiches you could hear him singing. You mute the TV, head cocked to the side as you strained to hear the song. When you heard the high note ring out, it was You and I; his favorite song from this album. You smiled, tilting your head back as he sang louder. When he came into the room he stopped. “What are you doing?” he asked on a laugh, setting your sandwich down in front of you. “Don’t stop, why did you stop?” you ask, a frown tugging at your lips. “Stop what? Singing?” when you nodded, he shook his head. “You don’t get tired of it?” he asks with a quirk of his brow. “I could never get tired of hearing you sing.” His ear to ear smile was all he needed to know. “Then I’ll sing to you forever,” he promises without thought, lips lightly brushing yours.

Louis: His daughter was stubborn just like her mama was. She fought off sleep like her life depended on it. He was on his third bedtime story and still, she battled to keep her eyes open. “Another daddy,” she demanded when the story ended. Louis sighed, he thought she had a serious case of FOMA- Fear of Missing Out- but he didn’t tell her no. “It’s late love, maybe you should close your eyes and sleep,” he said gently, pressing a light kiss to her brow. “But I don’t want you to stop reading,” she whispers, eyes drooping. “As long as you’re here, it keeps all the monsters away.” Louis had to admit it was hard to argue with that one. He’d done the monster check five times already, but still, his daughter insisted that one could have slipped passed him while he was reading. “Alright, one more.” He crossed the room to her small book shelf and grabbed ‘Sleeping Beauty’ from the pile and sat back down beside her. “This okay?” he asked as he rested her head against his arm. He didn’t think he could ever love someone as much as he loved his daughter. What with her bright eyes, quick laugh and adventurous spirit, she was the best of both of you. “Yes,” she yawned. “As long as you don’t stop, dad.”