those eyelashes are insane

anonymous asked:

you know that one gif where zayn is sleeping in just a towel and liam gently tries to wake him up by caressing his cheek.. i always wondered what happened next.. (maybe zayn slowly blinking his open with a soft smile when he sees liam and pulling him on top of him to cuddle or more;)) only if u want to could you please write another canon drabble? yours are soooo good! (for inspiration: zayndrogynous*tumblr*com/post/157117474724)


Liam’s not sure how long he’d been there. He thinks maybe just a couple of minutes but it was probably longer than that. He must be in creeper territory by now considering this should have only taken a minute at the most but he couldn’t help himself. He was caught completely off guard by the surge of emotions that took over his body and mind the minute he laid eyes on Zayn.

At first he couldn’t understand why. He’d done this a hundred times before. It was deemed his job ever since they all discovered that Liam was the only one able to rouse Zayn from his precious slumber without having their heads bitten off. Secretly, Liam loved it. He loved knowing that this was another thing that made his relationship with Zayn special, that he was the only one able to coax a smile and a laugh from a sleepy Zayn despite his well known love affair with sleep.

Liam approached him slowly and quietly until he stood over his best friend’s sleeping form and just admired him for a moment. It was amazing, really, how beautiful Zayn was. He’s always known this of course, but he looked different when he slept. There was an innocence about him that only manifested itself when he was asleep. He loved watching him like this, looking so vulnerable and peaceful. It dawned on Liam that he was one of the few people that had the privilege of seeing Zayn in this state. Gratitude joined the heady mix of emotions already wreaking havoc inside him.

He leaned over and placed his palm on Zayn’s cheek. His skin was warm to the touch and Liam gently rubbed his thumb across the soft skin. He stroked his cheek and allowed his eyes to roam over Zayn’s face taking in its perfect symmetry, the flawless skin, those insanely long eyelashes, the fullness of his bottom lip.

His mind started conjuring up memories from their time together. His favorites were of the two of them alone, either on the bus or in a hotel room somewhere, talking about anything and everything, snuggling together, watching movies, playing video games and arguing over who was the better player. They’ve cried on each other’s shoulders more times than they care to admit and have found strength in their bond. Liam wondered if Zayn knew what an important part of his life he had become. 

His fingers glided across Zayn’s lips lightly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He fought the overwhelming desire to lean down and kiss him. He wanted to kiss those pink lips until Zayn woke up and kissed him back.

He suddenly realized that this wasn’t the first time he felt that urge.

Liam clenched his eyes shut tight and sighed as it finally sunk in. He knew now. He finally understood why today felt different. He opened his eyes again and allowed his hand to skate down Zayn’s arm studying the numerous tattoos adorning it while he came to terms with the realization.

He couldn’t deny it any longer. Today was the day he admitted to himself what he’d known all along: He was in love with Zayn.

He loved Zayn in a way that was different from the way he loved the other boys or the way he loved his family and friends. Liam had Zayn’s friendship already but he wanted so much more. He wanted his heart, his respect, his admiration, his time and yes, his body. He wanted to hold his hand whenever he wanted, share a home with him and celebrate anniversaries and all that sappy stuff. He wanted to come first for Zayn the way Zayn came first in all things for Liam. 

He wanted everything with Zayn. 

Liam’s eyes traveled back up towards his face and he froze. Zayn was awake and was looking right at him. Liam pulled his hand away instantly, dropping the water bottle he held in his other hand in his haste. He felt his face burn with embarrassment after being caught red-handed. He probably had a dopey smile on his face the entire time he had been daydreaming about happily ever afters with Zayn. He was mortified.

“I uh - sorry, um,” Liam stammered, completely tongue-tied and unable to come up with a good excuse for his behavior. He considered just running out of the room without any explanation and took a step back, about to do just that.

Zayn’s hand reached out and grabbed Liam’s before he could make his escape.

“It’s okay, Li,” Zayn said to him, no anger or judgment visible in his face. Just that same fond smile that Liam had seen time and time again. Zayn tugged his arm down forcing Liam to sink to his knees beside him. Zayn reached his other hand up and cupped the back of Liam’s neck in that all-too familiar way and pulled him closer.

Liam’s breath hitched when Zayn brought their foreheads together. Liam’s heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest it was beating so fast.

“I love you, too” Zayn whispered softly, his eyes shining and full of hope. Liam exhaled and smiled, his body sagging with relief after hearing Zayn’s confession.

“Uh, are you - really?” Liam asked. He needed to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming all of this.

Zayn didn’t answer but his smile grew bigger as he pulled Liam in the rest of the way and proceeded to kiss him. He kissed him long, slow and deep. It was better than anything Liam had imagined.

"Mystery Man" - One Direction Preference


You walked out the front door of your apartment building, met by a chilly breeze, the air still clinging to winter. Glancing down the sidewalk, you searched for your friend’s car on the road. A few feet away stood a handsome stranger, his lean frame wrapped in a black, leather jacket. His hair was dark like the midnight sky, with eyes the color of chocolate. Certainly you couldn’t forget a face like his. Those insanely long eyelashes, and chiseled jaw would be impossible to forget. Yet still, he was a mystery. “Hey,” he muttered, pulling a dull, silver lighter from his jacket pocket. Placing a cigarette in his mouth, he lit the end and took a satisfying drag, his eyes never leaving yours. “Hi,” you retorted, biting your lip. “Who’re you?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. His lips curled into a grin. “Whoever you want me to be,” he hummed, burning cigarette poised between his smooth, pink lips. You chuckled, taking a step closer, as you ran a hand casually through your hair. “Okay, mystery man,” you smirked, “think I could steal a smoke?” He looked surprised, but didn’t hesitate before handing you a cigarette. Placing it steadily between your lips, you held his gaze as you pressed the end of the fag to his glowing ember. The two of you smoked in silence, until your friend pulled up to the curb. You quickly dropped the cigarette to the cool cement ground, stomping out the spark. Neither of you spoke another word as you climbed into the vehicle and drove away. As you watched his reflection disappear in the side view mirror, something inside told you, you hadn’t seen the last of your mysterious stranger.


The grand ballroom was adorned with hundreds of twinkling lights. White cloth covered tables scattered around the perimeter of the spacious room, candles burning low in the center of each one. The scene appeared like a fairytale brought to life, from a storybook. You watched as dozens of couples swayed around the dance floor, bodies held tight to one another as they moved. “Would ya care to dance?” a well-built, blond haired man asked. His voice was smooth like silk, a hint of an Irish accent kissing each word he spoke. He extended a hand out to you, a smile painted on his pale, pink lips. Nodding shyly, he led you to the middle of the room, his calloused fingers linked with yours pulling you into his chest. He placed a hand tenderly to the small of your back. The silky fabric of your gown flowed and swished around you both as he twirled you effortlessly across the shining marble floors. All you saw were his piercing blue eyes appearing behind his all black mask, as the two of you danced. The song ended all too soon, your enchanted moment slowly slipping away. Gripping one of your hands, he bowed like a gentleman, before turning to leave. “W– wait,” you stammered, “I didn’t get your name.” “Let’s just say I’m a mystery,” he replied coolly. With a quick, smiling kiss to your lips, he was gone. Disappearing into the crowd, a breathless feeling was all he left behind.


A tall, handsome stranger came to sit next to you on an open bar stool. He smiled briefly at you, running a hand swiftly through his head of curls. There was an air of mystery about him. He motioned for the bartender, and promptly ordered himself a beer, before turning to you. “Martini?” he asked, gesturing to the empty martini glass in front of you. “Please,” you hummed, flashing him a grateful smile. The night seemed to pass by so quickly from that point on, as the two of you drank, talked, and laughed enjoying one another’s company. You held only the most vague recollection of making your way, hand in hand, to the restrooms at the back of the bar. Within seconds of stumbling through the heavy metal door, his lips were on yours, biting your lower lip hungrily between his teeth. In one swift motion he lifted you from your heel clad feet, hoisting you effortlessly onto the grimy countertop. Lips pressed firmly to your collarbone, you felt his long, slender fingers snake under the smooth fabric of the dress you wore. His touch sent a shiver of excitement through your body as his fingers moved painfully slow along your inner thigh. “Wait. Wait,” you panted, breaths coming in shallow, heated gulps. Hands pressed flat to his chest, you noted the myriad of tattoos marking his skin beneath his now open, button down shirt. “I don’t even know your name,” you whispered, searching his eyes. He chuckled lightheartedly, emerald eyes filled with mystery. “Harry. Just Harry,” he hummed, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips as he kissed you once more. 


Sitting in the coffee shop, Louis watched you from afar. A man made his way over to you, and Louis couldn’t help but chuckle at his weak attempt to flirt. He noticed the uncomfortable way you chatted with this man, and bounded over to your side with an idea. “Sorry I’m late, love,” Louis chimed, pecking a kiss to your cheek. You stared at him, confused. “Traffic was murder,” he grumbled, throwing you a subtle wink. Louis looked the other guy in the eye, and smiled, placing a hand possessively to your shoulder. “Thanks for keeping my girl company, mate.” Stunned, the man retreated, looking like a sad puppy. “Thanks for that,” you giggled, giving him a warm smile. “No problem. I could tell you didn’t want to be bothered,” he shrugged. You furrowed your brow in amusement. “Oh yeah? How so?” you questioned, taking a leisurely sip from your coffee. Taking a seat across from you at the quaint oak table, he trained his blue eyes on you. “Well, you’re sitting alone in a coffee shop, with a book in your hands. You’re drinking a tall, double shot espresso, so you’ve obviously had a rough week,” he smirked, leaning forward on his elbows, “your hair is pulled back, and you have reading glasses on, which says you’re all business.” His face held the most genuine smile you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t help but smile too, impressed by his charming wit. Getting to his feet once more, he tipped an invisible hat to you. “Enjoy your coffee,” he murmured, before walking away, leaving you in awe of this mysterious stranger.   


You mindlessly folded each cashmere sweater, stacking one carefully atop the other. Some days your retail job felt endless. Dragging on and on, in hours of mind-numbing work. Today you trudged around the clothing store, and straightened pile after pile of messy items of clothing, cursing the careless customers who shopped here. Carefully you lifted the mountain of freshly folded sweaters, and grumbled a list of annoyed comments to yourself. Traipsing blindly through the racks of clothes on display, your foot clumsily caught on an unseen table, every shirt flying from your grasp. “Shit,” you muttered as you fell face first toward the store floor. Out of nowhere, you felt two muscular arms wrap around your waist, catching you moments before you hit the ground. Looking up, you were greeted with his stunning, coffee colored eyes. He wore a kind smile upon his pouty pink lips as he gazed back at you. You clutched his broad, t-shirt covered chest, the steady beating of his heart sending yours fluttering wildly. “Are you alright, love?” he asked, British accent soft and enticing as he spoke. Setting you carefully back on your feet, he gathered up a handful of the scattered sweaters. Mouth suddenly running dry, you nodded your head, giving him a grateful smile. “Yeah, thank you,” you whispered, taking the clothes from his capable hands. “My pleasure,” he smirked, as he leisurely walked away. For once you found yourself thinking, maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.