One Direction and 5 Seconds of Summer Preferences

1D Punk: First Kiss

Harry: Pish Posh is easily one of the most successful boutiques in London, if not the most successful. This astounds you because it's a baby boutique. However, since you've taken over, the store seems to have exploded and expanded even more so than it was when you had started working there years earlier. There's such a demand for your product, that you've hired people to take over the internet component of the website and have considered another location. Considering that most of the orders are hailing from New York City, that's the logical location for your next store.

This makes your mother extremely happy if for nothing more than the knowledge that you'll be back in a city she could control your life and marry you off to some stockbroker that works with your father. However, London has become home to you for a number of reasons. The city seems to calm you and the people are considerably friendlier than in New York. There were aspects of New York you missed but those were easily satisfied with the British counterparts. Besides, moving back to New York meant no more Harry. You'd been seeing him regularly for a few weeks now and by regularly that means romantically. But that doesn't include kisses; Harry has been nothing but a gentlemen when it comes to having your first kiss, which you have not. It's starting to annoy you because all you want to do is press your lips to his.

It's a late Thursday night and you and another female employee are finishing up the weekly inventory checklist when there's the sound of shattering glass from the front. You shut the steel door quickly, locking the two of you in the back room before enabling the alarm system from your phone. This is why you'd gotten the steel door to the backroom where the safe was because an expanding business meant a better chance for robbery. Tara, the other employee with you, calls the police and you can do nothing but wait.

The handle jiggles and you panic, slapping a hand over your mouth to stop the sob threatening to escape when you hear the sound of gunshots aimed for the door handle. Then there's shouting, the sound of the police storming the shop and then "Ma'am, this is the police... it's safe to come out now". Tara opens the door cautiously before she's throwing her arms around the officer in front of her in thanks as you stumble out behind her. You're in the middle of giving you statement, glancing around at the damage in your store when Harry rushes in.

He looks panicked and scared as his blue/green eyes scan the store before landing on you. He's dressed in black jeans and a white v-neck with a grey beanie covering his curls and a lanyard around his neck from the concert he was supposed to be at. He takes three long strides towards you, hands cupping your cheeks before he's pressing his lips hard against yours.

The motion startles you, trembling fingers reaching to grasp onto his biceps as his lips move against yours until you relax against him and return the kiss. His lips slow but his hold doesn't and he pulls away to pull you against his chest while burying his nose in your hair. "I'm ok" you try to assure him, running your fingers up and down his back to try and soothe him but he shakes his head. "I thought the worst" he admits softly and you push up on your tip toes to press your lips to his in reassurance.

"I'm fine" you promise against his lips and smile when he insists on taking you home and checking for any bad men that might be lurking in the shadows of your apartment. As he drives you back towards your apartment, your fingers touch your lips with a smile.

Liam: Liam's invited you to attend a concert for the students at his music store. He'd rented a spacious venue to accommodate everyone and insure that those who had wanted to join to form a band would have enough space. It's these kinds of things you like most about Liam; he's thoughtful and kind, despite his hard appearance. You figure "why not" so you find yourself rushing home from work to change out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

Twenty minutes later, you're rushing back towards your black Mercedes in your favorite lightweight, navy summer dress with a pair of wooden wedges and you hope you won't be late. You've left your hair down in the loose curls and added a quick layer of pale pink lipstick before checking your phone. Five minutes later, you're stuck in traffic. "Come on! I have some where to be" you complain, thinking if you complain louder than the accident in front of you would clear up quicker. You were mistaken. Twenty minutes after that you lean your forehead against the steering wheel in annoyance and concluded that you're going to be late. "It's fine love, don't rush" Liam's text responded and while he seems to be alright with your tardiness you aren't.