I’m staring at Niall across from me. Starting from my right and working around the semi-circled booth are Louis, Niall, Liam, Harry, and directly beside me - Zayn.
The boys all laugh at some joke Zayn cracks. I’m not listening, but if I were I doubt I’d find it funny.
We’re at a bar & grill and I’m just not in the mood. For anything. Zayn picked me up from work only thirty minutes ago and my feet are killing me as well as my head. The get-together was supposed to include Eleanor as well, but she had to cancel - which made my attending even less appealing.
"Y/N?" Zayn’s hand lands on my forearm, “did you hear that?"
"Sorry?"
He rolls his eyes and leans back dramatically. “She never listens to what I’m sayin’. That’s why I’ve got a couple others lined up when I get tired of her." He winks at me and puts his arm over the back of the booth.
Niall, Liam, Lou, and Harry all scoff, but I take his arm from around me and put it beside him, completely unamused.
Thankfully, the food arrives and leaves no room for further chatter as everyone starts stuffing their face.
I know he was only joking, but his comment still hurt. He knows I have trust issues, and here he is throwing it back at my face.
We’ve been together for almost two years and he hasn’t cheated, but he’s admitted to being unfaithful in past relationships.
I look down at my burger and I’m too tired to lift it to my mouth.
Apparently Liam notices my lack of appetite. “Babe, are you not hungry?"
Before I can respond Zayn pipes up, “She’s always hungry."
I throw Zayn a What-The-Hell look, erasing the smile off his face. Turning back to Liam I answer, “I’m just not feeling too good."
He smiles reassuringly, “I’m sure it’s just from being on your feet all day. You don’t think it’s a virus, do you?"
Once again, Zayn feels the need to speak for me, “She doesn’t get sick, plus we were up for a while last night, if you know what I mean." He wiggles his eyebrows.
I snort, making it seem like he’s kidding when in all reality we really had been up late last night. My mouth had helped him with a tough situation. Regardless of whether it’s true or not, his remark pisses me off because I’m not one to kiss and tell.
The waitress comes by and refills drinks. The boys talking picks up again as I take small bites of my fries. It seems some sport on the t.v. has called to them.
At a lull in the conversation I feel Zayn’s warm palm on my left thigh just above the knee.
I look at him and he smiles softly, rubbing his thumb against my jeans as Harry grabs his attention. I’m about to lean into him, wiping the night’s slate clean before his fingers dance upward, drawing against my inner thigh.
Why does he wait for the most inappropriate times to get horny? I interlace our hands, trying subtly to discontinue his intentions. It works for a while, but soon enough his hand is back on my leg, squeezing as he makes his way nearer my crotch.
I push him away from me and stand up, huffing, “I’m leaving." I glance at Zayn, “If you don’t want to drive me I can catch a cab."
"What do you mean, Y/N? Of course I’m driving you." He’s puzzled, his eyes crinkling.
"I’m ready now, so if you want to stay you can."
"Y/N. Don’t be ridiculous." He speaks to the guys, “Yeah, it’s time to call it a night."
The lads rise and form a queue, awaiting their turn to see us off.
Zayn’s hands rest on my hips as he leads me out of the booth. It irks me, adding to all his little jabs of the night (Can’t he see I just want to be left be?), but I let it go as Louis’s gorgeous smile is first in my face, hugging me tight.
~
Our departure was short along with the silent drive home.
We walk through the threshold and I’ve got one foot on the stairs when Zayn tugs me into him, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my lips urgently.
I pull from him, “Zayn, stop!"
He looks hurt, but I’m too worn to feel sympathy. “What is it, Y/N?" He reaches for my hand but I step away.
His lack of knowledge on his behavior sets me off. “Zayn, you can’t just joke about girls as if they’re objects and you know I feel it’s disrespectful when guys talk about their sex lives. Plus, the one time I don’t feel up for anything you try to make passes." My answer leaves in one big whoosh.
"But.." His eyes flicker awkwardly.
"Look, I love you, but I don’t feel like having sex. I want to go straight to bed."
"Okay." Zayn’s voice is weak, pained. He doesn’t meet my gaze.
I groan and sink to the floor. I’m irritated that the one time I don’t give him what he wants, he makes me feel bad for it.
I startle when I feel Zayn lifting me off the ground bridal-style. “Wha-?"
"I’m taking you to bed." He climbs the stairs, walks down the hall, enters our room, and sets me on the edge of the bed.
Zayn kicks off his shoes and begins undoing his jeans.
My fists close up and I’m about to start yelling when Zayn chuckles, “I’m not trying anything, Babe. Just going to sleep."
"It’s only 9:00 pm," I counter.
He shrugs, “I just wanna be with you."
And that’s when the contrition hits. “Okay, I’m sorry, Zayn. I’ve been a grump the whole night when you should have been having fun with your friends."
Zayn shakes his head and steps in front of me, now only in his boxer-briefs. “I wouldn’t have wanted to go if you weren’t there," he cups my cheek, “I’m sorry if I upset you. I was just trying to make you feel better. I knew you didn’t feel good. Granted, the jokes were toward inappropriate as well as my hands. I don’t know, I was just nervous."
"Nervous how?"
"It’s nothing." He muses my hair. “I’m sorry."
I frown up at him. “I’m sorry for calling you a sexist pig in my head all night."
Zayn laughs and rubs my arms, leaning down to place a kiss to my forehead.
I inhale his smell - burnt sugar tinged with nicotine - and revel in the soothing effect his hands have on me.
"You’re tense, Babe," Zayn notes.
"You wouldn’t believe how stressful it is to make lattes for a bunch of 15-year-old white girls."
He chuckles as he goes to his knees, parting mine and sliding between. His fingers weave together on the small of my back and his elbow rest on my thighs. “Do you wanna talk about it?"
I place my palms on his cheeks and scrunch my nose. “Not really." My head shakes and I look to the side.
"I could give you a massage." He tilts his gaze to mine.
I laugh. “You don’t have to, Zayn."
"No, really. I want to." His hands put pressure on my lower back, rubbing. “It will probably help you get to sleep, anyway."
My eyes fall shut and I lean my forehead on his. “Mmm." My back already feels so much better. I kiss his lips softly.
His hands slip under my t-shirt and run side to side against my sore muscles. His eyes are hazel at the moment and they never leave mine.
A minute later Zayn stands back up and peels my shirt off to reveal a plain black bra. “Lay down," his voice is quiet as his hands guide my hips backwards to the center of the bed.
I do as instructed and lay flat on my back, pulling my hair from its ponytail and laying it out to cascade around me.
"I’ll be right back." Zayn goes into our bathroom, rummages around, and reemerges with lotion in his hand. He raises it along with his eyebrows. “Honey Glow."
"Shut up. It was the only one left," I giggle.
Zayn gives me a crooked smile and climbs on the bed, sitting with one leg straight and the other bent with his foot flat against his opposite thigh. He scoots under my feet and rubs lotion into his palm before smothering my toes, heels.
As he pushes his thumbs into the soles of my feet, I sigh with relief - all the tension melting.
"Zayynn," I attempt a firm tone, but his fingers between my toes only tickle me. “Stop!" I jerk my feet away, giggling.
He just smiles and readjusts, climbing over me on all fours to peck my lips.
Before I can kiss him back his hands are unbuttoning my skinny jeans, unzipping and tugging them down. When I lift my bum up to assist, his mouth finds just below my navel, sucking gently.
I smile at the sensation, at the loving look in his eyes.
He moves back to my feet and grips the pant material, pulling them off as I curl my legs up - a group effort.
Zayn turns me over and straddles my back, resting on my bum. His large hands cup my shoulders, fingers spread to loosen knots.
He scent of honey wafts through the room and balms me as his hands roam my back, massaging.
My hair is lifted off the back of my neck as his lips kiss the perspiration away.
Zayn sits back up and moves lower, hovering over my calves and kneading my thighs skillfully.
When he shuffles down to work my calves I turn onto my back and tug my knees out from under him.
He sits down and makes a ‘v’ with his legs. My feet rest flat on his thighs as his hands clamp around my calves, up and down the backside.
He kisses just below my knee and I hum in praise.
After a good while I sit up and scoot in between his legs, my thighs over his. I loop my arms around his neck. “You’re too sweet."
"Do you feel better?" He murmurs.
"I’m on cloud nine, Baby."
He grins and pecks my lips, lingering to mouth ‘I love you.’
My digits curl into his messy hair as I hold him against me, grazing my mouth on his.
Zayn wraps his arms around my back and smiles into the kiss. He breathes “You’re so beautiful" as he ghosts over my cheek, jaw, ear.
His kisses are soft, comforting. And I have no clue what he’s playing at.
He pulls up and nuzzles his face to mine. “Ready for bed?"
I can all of a sudden feel him - like when we first got together, when his mere presence made me giddy. Zayn’s hands are resting on my hips, his crotch just grazing my ever-dampening center, my sticky thigh splayed on his.
I stare into his deep browns and it takes a bit, but I can practically see the puzzle fitting together when he gets it; the way his eyes grow impossibly darker, his slight gulp, his fingers pressing into my skin.
He knows I want him, and I know he wants me.
Zayn closes his legs together, raising me as I sit atop them. His arms encircle me impossibly closer.
"Zayn.." My my breath floats over his lips, my left elbow drawing him nearer as the pads of my fingers skim his angular jaw.
I can see the pigment of his eyes transitioning, flickering my gaze between the hypnotic pink of his lips and dark eyes.
His slightly chapped lips part and curve perfectly, effortlessly around my lower lip.
My eyes fall shut as I suck lightly, fingers tracing his jaw, cheek.
Our mouths move in sync, opening and closing to conform to the other’s.
The running of my tongue’s tip between his snaps him awake, pulling from me slightly. “I love you." The air tingles against my freshly-wet lips.
I nod, smiling. “I know."
Zayn
For most everybody, when they tell someone they love them, that person wants to hear it back. But with Y/N I’m not most everybody. I know she loves me. She wouldn’t be with me if she didn’t. No, what I want to hear, what I have to hear is that she knows I love her. Because she doesn’t trust easily.
But does she know just how much I adore her?
I place my palms on her hipbones, gently pulling to my knees. Her questioning eyes meet mine as I assert, “lay back."
Y/N complies, towing me on top of her, giggling as I collapse.
"What are you tryna do to me, Woman?" My voice is gruffer than expected.
She grins and wraps her ankles around my waist, suctioning my lips to hers.
We stay like this for minutes, one forearm propping me up as I rub her upper thigh.
Her tiny hands roam my chest, running down my sides and clamping my waist.
Our tongues untangle only for mine to lick the underside of her jaw, nibbling her earlobe softly.
She hums in my ear, driving me to venture down her neck, pecking wet kisses down her stomach, dipping my tongue into her bellybutton.
"Zayn," she laughs whilst tugging on my hair.
I blow on her wet middle. At first I really was just going to go to sleep with her, but now I can’t seem to stop myself.
Her jaw lowers in a gasp, eyes burning into mine.
I try not to smirk when goosebumps arise. My knuckles rake up and down her thighs as I sprinkle tiny kisses along her panty-line.
Her black underwear did a good job hiding her excitement, but I’m now close enough to smell it.
I hold myself back, clutching below her knees and pushing them up, her feet dangling just above the bed. I stand to my knees and lift her left leg up straight, starting at her red-painted toes and kissing down.
She giggles as I suck the fleshy underside of her knee before continuing down the inside if her thigh.
I skip over her heat and sloppily place my open mouth atop her right leg just below the hip.
My digits trail up her stomach to the curve of her breast. One look in her eyes tell me she’s begging me to take her right here, but I don’t. Because she’s sore already. And I know that if my willpower weren’t so high I’d have to massage her for the next week.
I push the crook of her knee back to hover over the blue bedspread. Once I’m comfortable on my shins, her bra-clad breasts are squeezed with my hands.
Her moan tells me to continue.
My pushing her legs apart reveals more of her skin: where thigh meets crotch. I can’t help my tongue snaking out to loll the clammy jointure, her soft pubic hairs teasing me.
"Zayn," her coo is barely audible.
I kiss her flesh, give her boobs a final caress, and slide my arms between her outter thighs and bed, holding her sides.
Her panties are now wet enough to stick to her sex, forming a cast over it.
My heart begins to beat faster and I can feel myself hardening at the anticipation. I kiss just above her slit before rolling my tongue over it, getting a trace her special taste.
I glance up to see her eyes closed and mouth shut, chest moving almost heavily.
My tongue splits her open the slightest bit, digging down until she intakes sharply and I feel a heated bundle.
My river carves out her Grand Canyon. I lean back to admire my craftsmanship and a guttural groan escapes as I stare at her camel toe, mouth watering.
The back of her head is pushing down into the mattress.
I hook my index finger under the front of her panties and slowly drag it down, puffing my humid breath onto her soft skin.
She rumbles beneath me and snatches my hair roughly in her hands.
The lowering underwear reveals the beginning of her slit and I can’t take it - the dainty cloth is ripped off. “I’m sorry, baby. We’ll get two more."
Y/N is shocked at first, but her eyes alight soon after with desire.
I spread her open with my fingers and suck her labia between my lips, my eyes falling shut.
She’s definitely horny. Nevertheless, I push saliva into her cavity (because you can never have too much help), going to town.
I don’t know how long I suck her clit, swip every nook and cranny, but what seems like only moments later she’s laughing hysterically under me - a sign that her orgasm is building.
Y/N
I can’t stop giggling.
Zayn’s tongue vibrating on my clit is definitely getting to me. All of a sudden the soft pressure on my clit is replaced with something firmer - his thumb.
He pushes down, circling tightly as his tongue moves down lower. It stops at my vagina and prods gently, stretching me more than you would imagine.
I just laugh harder.
His tongue moves in and out, roaming the inner-most part of me.
My hips begin spazzing as my clit is rubbed harder and he moans into me.
I open my eyes and look down. That’s what does it. The look on his face makes my giggles choke and a scream replace them as my insides explode, juices literally squirting out of me.
Zayn’s mouth is open, my orgasmic fluid flooding his mouth.
I fall back and laugh once more, feeling as though I’m half asleep.
Final laps are taken at my womanhood and Zayn pulls up, laying down on me and sticking his tongue out.
I eagerly wrap my lips around it, tasting myself.
"You were amazing, Y/N. You even squirted for me." He pecks my lips.
I smile lazily and look down. His erection is so ready for release.
He notices my stare, “It’s okay, we can go to sleep."
I give him an ‘As-If" look and I reach for his cock, palming.
I know all thoughts of just sleeping are cut in half as soon as he moans, mouth falling open. Just like how I was earlier; as soon as he touched me I was ready to cum.
My hand jerks down his briefs and I almost gasp in shock at his literal readiness. The throbbing of his cock is practically visual underneath his excessive amount of precum and he stand proud.
"Zayn, why didn’t you say anything?" I chide.
"Tonight was for you," he’s a bit bashful.
I shake my head and lick my hand, wrapping it firmly around him.
His mouth puckers as if he were going to whistle.
I gently tug up, down, up, twisting my wrist. My thumb swipes over his sensitive head and he grunts. The skin if his shaft is so soft, silky. Knowing that I’m bringing him pleasure pleases me.
The harder, faster I tug, the quicker his breaths become.
For whatever reason, I could get myself off just watching Zayn orgasm. He’s not loud, but his face is the picture that paints a million words. The way his jaw tenses, eyes squeezing, forehead wrinkling.
I trace my other thumb over his mouth and he sucks it between his lips, swirling his his tongue around.
Out of nowhere he pulls to his knees, ripping my hand from him and replacing it with his as cum shoots out onto my stomach.
His hand stills, lids revealing dazed eyes.
I run my fingers over my midriff, collecting his warm offering before dropping it into my mouth.
He takes action into his own hands and licks up the rest. Our mouths connect sloppily, erotically as we exchange tastes.
Zayn rolls off the bed and slides his underwear back on before finding an over sized t-shirt for me and new panties out of a droor.
He crawls back on top of me, laying the clothes to the side. An Eskimo kiss is cutely initiated.
I giggle as I twist my arm behind my back to take my bra off.
Once it’s gone Zayn pulls me to a sitting position, cupping the underside of my boobs and kissing each one before helping me into my shirt.
"Up," he commands.
I lift my arms to the sky and smile coyly up at him.
Soft cotton welcome, he drops it over my head. He grabs the new underwear and places my legs in them, kissing upward as they rise. My bum is cheekily lifted and handled as he slides my clothing up to its resting place.
Once his attention is in my face I pull him into a slow, passionate kiss. The kind that makes your head spin round, that leaves you short of breath.
Our tongues meet tentatively. Moving rhythmically as we lose the world, ourselves to one another.
"It’s time for bed, Sleeping Beauty," Zayn retracts and pecks my temple before falling on his side and taking me with him under the covers.
At first we’re spooning, but I roll over to face him. His eyes are already closed, so I prod his side.
"Y/N," his voice is stern, tired.
I just chuckle. “Zayn," I try to mimic him.
"Don’t tell me you’re not tired."
"I am."
"Then let’s sleep."
I kiss his eyelids, my fingers fluttering over his inked chest, mesmerized by the intricate designs.
"I can’t sleep when you do this to me, Y/N."
"Do what?" I whisper.
He clutches my hand and paces it over his heart.
I can feel the quick pounding. A smile creeps onto my face as I look into his surreal eyes. “Well," I wiggle away, “I guess I’ll take this side of the bed."
His hand catches my waist before I can move a foot. His deep eyes are clouded with drowsiness and playful dominance. “Get back over here, Woman." His muscular arms tighten me to his chest. A final kiss is placed to my forehead before Zayn becomes inanimate, stone locking me to it.
Once Zayn decides to sleep, he doesn’t come back to reality for at least eight hours, so I know there’s no hope trying to sway him.
Even though I can feel myself fighting droopy lids, I study Zayn with all I have.He’s so good to me. I may not always get along with him, but do I appreciate him as much as I should?
The question lingers as my eyes scan his flawless face, slight stubble, plush lips, long lashes. Whenever I see Zayn asleep I relish it; he’s so peaceful - like an angel.
Before I know what I’m doing, my right hand strokes his face as I place the lightest of pressure to his lips with mine. “I love you," I barely breathe.
I fall asleep as soon as my eyes close, but I would bet big money that the corner of his mouth kinked up into the first stage of my favorite smile.