On your birthday.

Liam:

 “Today is about you, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing chaste kisses to the skin on your neck. “I don’t want you to move or anything. You sit and relax and I’ll take care of you, all right?” He says, looking up to catch the dazed expression on your face. “All about you.”

Zayn:

 “So what are we gonna do today, princess?” He asked. The layer of sweat between your bodies stuck you two closely as he awaited your answer. “I mean,” he started, running a gentle hand through your hair. “I could always go for some more of this, if you want?” He whispered, pressing his lips against yours.

Louis:

 “How about you just let me?” He asked you, pressing his body against yours, his breath tickling your ear. “It’s your birthday.” He chided, kissing your cheek. “You should let me do this — you should let me do everything. Yeah? Would you like that?”

Niall:

 “Did I tell you that you look fantastic in this new dress?” He whispered. But before you could answer, his hands were already around your body — pulling you into him with a quiet yelp. “You look fucking gorgeous in this dress. How about we head back home so you can let me take care of you. Make you feel good.”

Harry:

 “Happy birthday.” He panted, rolling off of you, but then pulling you back towards him. “I hope your day was amazing.” He said quietly, his breath not quite even yet. “And I hope you have a wonderful year coming for you. Love you.” He muttered, kissing your head.