One Direction Imagine ;)

One Direction ( you quote a book and he doesn't get it )

Louis: You smiled, pecking his lips when he handed another piece of brownies to you, chuckling when you smirked happily. “You’re absolutely crazy,” he smirked back, wrinkling your nose, making you giggle.”You’re crazier,” you teased, kissing the bridge of his nose, making him laugh mischievously. “True, but I still don’t know how I fell in love with such a crazy ass,” he sassed joking, flipping his imaginary hair, making you chuckle. “We accept the love we think we deserve,” you smiled gently, looking at his blue eyes. “Wow, babe,” he smirked, “That’s some deep bullshit.” You looked at him shocked, pretending to be angry at him, even when he looked absolutely adorable when he was teasing you. “Is not! That’s the best quote I’ve ever read!” you yelled back smacking his arm, laughing at his confused smirk, “Like you’d ever know, you and your big bum never read in million years.”

Niall: You snuggled closer to him, his arms tugging you to his strong embrace, letting you breath in his strong scent. “Ya’re the worst match watcher ever, princess,” he mumbled snickering, kissing your forehead gently. The football match was still going, lulling you back to sleep to your loved one’s warm, gentle chest. “Mmh,” you answered, brushing your nose near his nipple, over the white snapback, making Niall chuckle. “I’m so tired,” you sighed to his skin, kissing the small spot what revealed his skin. “After all this time?” Niall snorted, shaking his head when he pointed at the telly, where the game was nearly in the end; you had slept most of it. “Always,” you smirked, giggling against his chest. “Weirdo,” he laughed, kissing you again, clearly unsure that you just quoted your favorite book. “You make great Dumbledore,” you sighed smirking, looking how he turned his blue eyes off the game, to stare at you completely confused, “Eh?”

Liam: “What is the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?” Liam asked quietly, when you were laying on your bed, rain hitting the roof, leaving small noise to the quiet room. It was nearly afternoon, but you stayed on the bed, tangled to each other. “I think…’You love me, real or not real’,” you answered smiling a little, drawing patterns to Liam’s smooth, tattooed skin. He looked down at you, brown eyes confused, when he pouted his lip. “What?” you asked, looking at his hurt expression. “I’ve never asked you that,” he mumbled, clearly thinking that someone else had. You giggled against his chest, burying your face to his bare skin, hand scratching the hair above his bellybutton. “That’s from the Hunger games, babe, it’s a quote,” you smirked, making him chuckle as well. “Oh,” he snorted, kissing your hair again. “Y/N?” he asked quietly, moment later, making you stir from your slumber. “Yeah?” you asked, smiling at him. “You love me, real or not real?” “Real.”

Zayn: “Mmh, that smells good,” he murmured, chuckling darkly when he hugged you from behind, tattooed arms wrapping around your waist. You smiled, adding salt to your delicious meal, knowing that Zayn would love it. It was his favorite. “I hope you’re hungry,” you smirked turning around, poking his belly before reaching to kiss his sweet, pink lips, “I’ve done this for hours, I messed it the first time.” He chuckled, resting his hands on the back of your lower back. “I’m as hungry as a lion,” he breathed between kisses, “and I love you.” You giggled, kissing him back, hand tangled to his black hair. “And so the lion fell in love with the lamb..,” you blurted out, remembering an old quote from a book you loved. “What?” Zayn asked, brown eyes full of confusion, “I thought you were making lasagna.” You looked at him for a second before bursting out for a loud laughter. “Z-Zayn, it was a quote from Twilight,” you breathed out, leaning your head to his chest when he chuckled. “Sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head before lifting your head with his fingers, “kiss me, you silly girl.”

Harry: “I love you,” he breathed to your ear, letting the chills run all the way to your toes, making you blush at the dim light. You were lying next to him on your living room’s arm chair, naked, sweaty bodies pressed as one.  “I love you more,” you smiled gently, head pressed against his shoulder, hand on his chest feeling his steady heartbeats. “That’s not possible,” he murmured, hand stroking your bare thigh, making you bury your head on his shoulder, leaving few kisses to his skin. “Harry,” you whispered, biting your lip, unsure should you say what you were planning to. It was true, one hundred percent, “You are, and always have been, my dream.” He tilted his head back, looking deeply at your eyes with his own, green ones. A small smile covered his plump lips when he kissed you sweetly, “You’re so smart, kitten.” You chuckled, kissing his neck, touching his swallow tattoos where small sweat beams glimmered in the light, “That was from Nicholas Sparks.” He smirked gently, big hand brushing your cheek when he kissed you again, “Still, you were smart enough to pick me.” You laughed kissing his lips gently, “I love you my goofball.”