CREDIT TUMBLR
Louis: "Close your eyes," he murmurs with a sleepy smile on his lips, all hooded eyes and drawling voice. You do as he says, curling up into the expanse of his torso, as his fingers grip the fabric of your (his) shirt. His goodnight kisses aren't to your mouth, aren't sensual and needy, they're slow and languid, to your temple, the side of your neck, your fingers, your forehead. They don't need to be hot and hungry and hard, but sweet and tender, to lull you to sleep as he mumbles, "my pretty girl."
Harry: "M'sleepy," he mumbles, curling his needy fingers around your hips and pulling most of your body to rest on top of his. His face buries itself in the crook of your neck, messy hair tickling the skin of your face and shoulders. He smiles against your skin, pouting his lips to press a slight kiss to your neck, fingers rubbing at the exposed skin of your hips, that he reaches past the fabric of your pajamas. "Comfy?" he asks, always considerate, and when you only hum in content, he's snuggling in further and dropping another kiss to the skin he can reach.
Niall: His lips are soft and taste of toothpaste and home as they move against yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, neither of you trying very hard to keep up with the other. And with messy moving lips and gentle caresses of his hand down the length of your arm, he pulls away with a dumb grin, pressing fingers into the back of your neck and tucking your head into his chest. With one last press of his mouth to your forehead, the words spill warmly and sweetly over your skin, "Sweet dreams, baby doll."
Zayn: No words are really said once a certain hour passes, both of you too tired, too infatuated by the other's presence and contact, to feel the need to utter a single word. Instead your lips speak for you, as his do the same, moving slowly and needingly, but in the kindest way against each other. With shared breaths and quiet hums and sighs of content, slight movements of hands and legs, nothing else is really deemed necessary to say. It's all there, and you'll both be there when you wake to say what you need to say.
Liam: "I need a kiss," he mumbles with a sleepy smirk, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He's got flushed cheeks and messy hair and bleary eyes but the usual personality as he beckons you closer, "I won't be able to sleep if you don't give me a kiss, darling, I'll have nightmares." And before he can get out the last syllable, you're pushing your lips against his, a tad forcefully for the situation, but lovingly and grinning back at him when he pulls your body closer, mumbling into your hair as he settles into the bed, "thanks"