One Direction Preferences

Baking

Niall: “For Gods sake, Niall!” How many times had he heard those words directed at him? He shrugged, cheeks flushing. He had knocked over the whole bag of flour and now you were covered in it. It dusted your nose, the freckles there peeking out. Your hair was now white and you were trying to be stern but failed. He shrugged his shoulders in that ‘did I do that?’ gesture. You looked kinda cute like that, he thought wiping a bit from your cheek. It was snowing too hard to do anything, so Niall suggested baking. It took you by surprise at first. Niall didn’t normally like that stuff. But today, he dragged you into the kitchen and blasted the Christmas music. Normally you did that. You weren’t complaining though. He wanted to bake gingerbread men cookies so unable to refuse him, you started. And because of that, you were now covered in flour. “You look cute, baby,” he teased, watching you shake the flour out of your hair. “It’s only fair that we match, right?” And before he could move, you flicked batter into his face. He froze and looked at you, eyes incredulous. “I’m gunna get you,” he said slowly. You darted out of the kitchen, your laughter leaving a trail as you went. He scooped more batter into his hands and ran down the hall after you, laughing himself. When he found you corned in the bathroom, he rained it down on you. “Niall!” You screeched, covering your eyes. He laughed, making sure he smeared it good over your cheeks. You blinked up at him and before he could react, you moved tackling him to the floor and rubbing against him. His breath caught and he kissed the batter off your face. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he pressed back saying, “I have a much better idea in mind.” He winked, his mouth moving to lick the batter from your body.

Liam: He didn’t have any interest in baking today. It was freezing out, the rain slamming into the windows. You were standing at the counter, fingers kneading the dough for cinnamon bread when he came into the room. Your hair was slipping from its bun and your cheeks were flushed from exertion and all Liam could think about was how you looked like that when you were beneath him. He moved into the room, body tight and eyes dark with desire. Being cooped up at home with you left him with the need to make the most of this precious time. He stood behind you, his hands ghosting over your hips. “Do you want to help me?” You asked breathlessly. Oh he wanted to help alright. He didn’t answer though, he just moved your hair to the side and pressed his lips to your neck, pulling your ass back into him. You gasped, fingers breaking the dough apart. “Liam,” you moaned as he nibbled your ear lobe. “I don’t want to bake,” his voice was hoarse and you could feel him against you. “No? What do you want to do?” You felt him smile against your skin as he pressed his palm to your navel. “What I want, baby,” he said turning you around, “is to run my mouth over every inch of your skin until you scream my name.” Oh, Liam was dangerous when he was like this and so sexy. “But, the bread,” you stuttered, knowing in a few hours it would be flat and useless. “No baby,” he said attacking his mouth back to your neck. “Me.”

Louis: “How big do you think we can make it?” He asked, watching you smear icing between the sides of the gingerbread house. “Do you think we could make a gingerbread mansion?” You smiled and flicked your eyes to him. He looked so handsome by the fire, his jaw and lips chiseled and defined in the soft light. His eyes were happy and content as he propped his cheek in his hand. You dabbed a bit of icing on his nose and he laughed, moving forward to rub it against yours. “Eskimo kisses?” You laughed moving to wipe it off. He stopped you, using his lips to kiss the tip of your nose and get the icing away. He moved next to you and stuck some gumdrops to the top. “Can we make a gingerbread Godzilla to come and smash it?” You threw your head back and laughed, Louis was still such a child in some ways. “After all my hard work!” That wasn’t a lie, it’d taken hours to bake and get everything ready and it’d been a good two hours trying to get it together with Louis interrupting every 5 minutes. “It’s beautiful babe, honest. I just think it’d look a lot more fetching with a dinosaur with it.” You smiled and kissed him. If there was one thing you adored about Louis it was his Peter Pan heart, something you hoped never went away.

Zayn: He didn’t quite get the whole baking thing. He wasn’t very confident in the kitchen. He felt like he had mittens on both hands as he stirred the batter you placed in front of him. “Babe, I don’t…” You smiled and squeezed him from behind. Your reassurance was nice but it wasn’t really helpful. He was worried that somehow he’d mess up and this would be toxic and make you sick. But was there really a way to botch up chocolate chip cookies? He didn’t think so, but he was sure he’d find some sort of way. “Add the chocolate,” you said giving him the bag. You knew he felt awkward, so you decided to coach him along. He added what you told him and began mixing again. Okay, he could do this. And after all, it bought him an afternoon with you. “How’s that?” He asked giving you a timid smile. He was so cute when he was shy. You swiped your finger into the batter and sucked it off, giving a murmur of approval. He watched your mouth hollow around your finger and he gulped. “Here, taste.” You held your finger back out to him and slowly he sucked it off your finger. Your eyes darkened and your breathing hitched as he nipped the pad of your finger. “We did good baby.” When you moved to put them in the oven, Zayn sighed. He had some wicked fantasies about eating the dough right off your body. You must have felt the same because you grinned holding up the bowl that still had some mix left in it. “We have 20 minutes to kill,” and with a laugh and kiss to your lips, Zayn dragged you and the batter up the stairs for some fun.

Harry: “I’m a really very serious baker,” he said pursing his lips at you as he tied on his apron. You were sitting on the counter, trying to control your grin. He looked so adorable in his stubby little pony tail and “kiss the cook” apron. “I’m sure you are, babe,” you were mocking him but he didn’t care, you were way too cute just sitting there adoring him with your eyes. He moved between your legs and placed his sweet, pink lips against yours. “I have to get to work,” he deadpanned, moving back to his mixings. You snickered, eyes taking him in. Harry was so comfortable in the kitchen and his movements were skilled and fluent, utterly confident. He said he wanted to make you triple chocolate brownies- his speciality, apparently. And of course, you were happy to let him. But he wanted you in the room with him, he wanted to hear your voice and move to kiss you between stages of baking. You offered to help but he declined, saying he wanted to make sweets for his sweet. You’d blushed for an hour and couldn’t stop grinning after that and Harry swore he fell more in love with you just then. “Taste,” he let you taste the batter and give it the ‘okay’ before he set it to bake. He started to mix the frosting together, licking it from his thumb and humming to himself. There was no warmth without Harry, no sun. In his simplicity and in his very being, he was light, he was caring and he was pure. And as you watched him slide across the floor, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye you knew. You were more than lucky and more than blessed to have the love of Harry Styles and there would never be a day where you didn’t tell him how much you loved him too.