Harry - he rolled the balls of his palms, still slick with oil down your back, dotting wet kisses along sections of your skin he’d already covered, humming into you, circling every freckle he could find, every raise and glide that his huge hands slipped across. “Does that feel good, babe?” His weight on top of you pressured to to answer, “yep, babe, it feels really good.”
“I like making you feel good,” he murmured by your ear, long skilled fingers by your shoulders easing back, then pounding down to dapple weight in parts, and tug a moan from the back of your throat, his huge hands covering you, eyes drinking you down as he watched.
Liam - he pulled you back to his chest, when you tried to fight away, “come here, babe… I’ll make you feel good, you know I will,” he laughed near your ear, and allowed you moments to relax. He shuffled his hands under the back of your t-shirt and pebbled fingertips along the skin. “Lean forwards a bit, babe,” he whispered, “how does that feel?”
“Nice,” you smiled, eyes shutting halfway. He growled up to your shoulders, fiddling your bra undone to slide his hands down again and massage upwards, tapping your spine and the little bumps along the way.
Louis - he rested his powerful thighs either side of your body, straddling you as you lay on your stomach, “you like my hands, babe?” He bowled palms over your shoulders and rubbed methodically, the half-moon of his nails grazing your skin as you moaned into the pillow.
“I do like your hands, babe,” you gritted your teeth around an edge of the pillow, tasting the fluff of the material. He rubbed harder, pounding down deeper into your skin, his length hard atop your ass, his palms slick with damp sweat as he circled knots he knew you had, figuring them out until they flattened smooth beneath him.
Zayn - ”Your back hurting again?” He looked up, when you closed the front door, and a stifled nod managed to placate your features. He leapt up and took your bag and jacket. “Here, babe,” he led you to the couch and settled cross-legged behind you. One hand fiddled your shirt open, the other popping buttons to flow the silk down. Palms rolling along your skin, he squeezed your arms on the way up to your shoulders.
“I’ll make it all better, babe,” he kissed near your shoulder blade, and traced with his tongue as he rubbed, massaging, after the knots and little bruises tucked like pockets beneath the surface of your skin, making you wince as he rubbed it better.
Niall - he soothed the covers back to get to more of your skin, pressing a little harder as he eased down your figure, ending at your ass and squeezing each cup before sliding palms to the small of your back. He used his knuckles into your dimples, and ground around in circles. “You’re really good at massages, babe,” you giggled in a steamy haze, arms crossed below your cheek, as you lay on your stomach, Niall naked, laying beside you.
“Well,” he smirked, “it’s the least I can do to repay you for how good you were to me about twenty minutes ago, babe…”
You closed your eyes. His hands rocking along damp skin from before, finding your shoulders, rolling around then heading back down again, his lips on your skin every second that his hands weren’t.
