Tangled | Skater Zayn Oneshot

Author’s Note: This is the second installment of Tangled, which can be found here. Let me know if you liked it!

He had to be here somewhere, I thought, examining the crowd of teenagers as Niall huffed a breath, crossing his arms beside me. “We are going to get in so much trouble!” he argued as the sound of wheels rolling against wood filled our ears. “We should go home. Besides, we are together now.”

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Paradise

Mature Zayn Malik oneshot

Inspired by this lovely post [x]

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Fantasy (contains mature content)

To cure my Zayn feels that have yet to leave me since the show. It’s the hat; I know it is. GOD DAMMIT ZAYN YOU LOOKED SO FUCKING GOOD IN MY HAT.

forever blessed he wore it the entire show, in case you didn’t notice my other 329432 posts about it. 

oh and wow this got awkward typing this while watching andy’s twitcam

enjoy xo

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Billiards.

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Bending over the edge of the pool table, I pull back my pool stick surging it forward, hitting the eight ball. Standing back, I watch as I sink it into the pocket, the men who had gathered around to watch, cheering. Looking up at Patrick, he shakes his head in defeat handing his stick to some other guy.

“Who’s next?” I offer.

“Give it a rest, Y/N,” Patrick grins. “You’ve kicked all our asses.”

“That’s true,” I shrug.

“I want to play,” someone coaxes.

Turning around, a boy with black hair and dark brown eyes, all dressed in leather steps from the crowd. A lit cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth, as he eyes me up and down. He slips his coat off, tossing it to another dude dressed in leather and a Harley-Davidson T-shirt. Leaning back against the table, my gaze follows him as he grabs the pool stick from Patrick.

“You want to set ‘em up?” the guy asks.

“You can,” I assure.

“Yo, leather!” Patrick calls out. “What’s your name? For the winners board.”

“Zayn,” the guys smirks. “Zayn Malik.”

“Don’t put down his name yet, Patrick,” I point out. “He hasn’t won yet.”

“Jesus Y/N,” Patrick laughs. “You plan to kick his ass too?”

“She won’t,” Zayn shrugs.

“How do you know?” I question.

“I’m psychic,” he smirks.

“Well, your ‘visions’ should probably get checked out,” I snort.

Shaking his head, Zayn walks around to the far end of the table taking out three quarters. Pushing them in, the balls roll out onto the table. Racking the balls, Zayn looks up at me for some kind of confirmation.

“What?” I ask.

“You want to break?” he questions.

“You break,” I notion.

He nods and walks around the table setting up the cue ball. Bending over the table, he makes himself comfortable, pulling back the stick and hitting the cue ball. The balls break, a solid and a stripe going in two of the pockets.

“Choose,” Zayn demands.

“What?” I question.

“Choose,” he commands. “Solid or stripe.”

“Solid.”

Zayn bends back over the table, shooting the cue ball in another direction. It sinks the yellow stripe into the pocket, cheers erupting around us. He misses the next shot, motioning for me to go. Walking around the table, I shoot the ball sinking two into the same pocket. The bar erupts in even louder cheers, people patting Zayn on the back in sympathy.

~

Leaning over the table, Zayn shoots the cue ball sending the eight ball into the pocket. All the guys in the bar, erupt in hoots and hollers. Shaking my head, I lean against the table handing Patrick my pool stick. He pats me on the shoulder in sympathy, walking over to a group of guys. Someone nudges my shoulder, catching my attention. Turning to the person, it’s Zayn with a smirk on his face.

“Can I help you?” I question.

“Come on,” he laughs. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m not being a sore loser.”

“Then come have a cigarette with me.”

“Okay.”

Zayn leads me outside, and to the side of the building. Taking my pack out of my back pocket, I pull a cigarette out sticking it in the corner of my mouth. Zayn pushes himself off the side of the building, coming over and lighting it for me.

“Thanks,” I nod.

“No problem,” he shrugs.

Zayn lights his own cigarette as I take a drag from mine. Blowing the smoke out, I watch as Zayn stalks over to me. Flicking the ash, I look up at him as he takes a drag. Zayn grabs the back of my head, encasing my mouth with his. Blowing the smoke into my mouth, I breathe it in, blowing it back out through my nose.

“What was that for?” I gasp.

“I like your lips,” Zayn smirks.

“Do you?” I ask.

“Yeah, a lot actually.”

Zayn flicks his cigarette, planting his lips on mine. Dropping my cigarette I wrap my arms around Zayn’s neck, licking his bottom lip. He parts his lips for me, giving me the chance to delve my tongue in. Massaging his tongue with mine, he presses me against the wall tangling his fingers in my hair. Running my hands under his shirt, I scrape my nails down his sides pulling on his belt loops. Zayn grinds his hips into me, hooking his hands under my thighs. Pulling away, he looks down at me licking his lips.

“You know how I said I like your lips?” Zayn smirks.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

“I’d really like to see them wrapped around my cock.”

“You want me to blow you?”

“I don’t believe I stuttered.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Then get on your knees.”

I turn us around, shoving Zayn against the wall. Getting on my knees, I unbuckle his belt shoving his pants down. Palming him through his Klein’s, he groans bucking his hips. Hooking my fingers, I pull them down, his cock protruding. He leans his head back against the wall, hooking his fingers in my hair. Placing a chaste kiss on the head, I look up at him, his gaze locked on my mouth. Enveloping the head with my lips, I suck lightly, Zayn bucking his hips for more. Twisting my head, he strokes himself along my tongue. Shoving himself deeper, Zayn holds me there, my nose pressed against his groin. Breathing deeply, Zayn guides himself in and out of my mouth. Watching him, I feel my stomach stir in anticipation. Gripping his waist, I pull myself closer to him bobbing my head.

“Faster, Y/N. Faster.”

Moving my head faster, his fingers dig into my scalp, his cock twitching in the back of my throat. His cum slides down my throat, as I milk him through his orgasm. I feel his cum, protrude out of the corners of my mouth sliding down my chin. Pulling himself from my mouth, he wipes his cum off my chin holding his finger to my mouth. I wrap my lips around his finger sucking off the cum. Grabbing my shoulders, Zayn pulls me up from the ground planting his lips on mine. Zayn turns me around, shoving me against the wall face first. Zayn pulls my pants down, smacking my ass when they hit the ground.

“Put your hands against the wall and stick your ass out,” Zayn orders.

Doing as he says, Zayn pulls my panties down, running his cock through my folds. Leaning my head on my arm, I watch as the head of Zayn’s cock peeks out. I throw my head back as Zayn sinks into me, a small moan emitting from me. Thrusting himself deeper, Zayn pulls my head back burying his mouth against my neck.

“Do you like that baby?” Zayn grunts. “Does it feel good? Tell me how good it feels.”

“So fucking good,” I moan. “So good.”

“You like feeling me buried inside of you?”

“Yes.”

“You like feeling my cock in your tight cunt. Such a tight cunt.”

Moaning, I lean my head down feeling the butterflies erupt in my stomach. Zayn groans, thrusting himself harder. Hitting my G-spot, I clench around him. Zayn twitches inside me, sinking deeper and faster.

“I’m gonna cum,” I pant. “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Do it,” Zayn demands. “Cum around my cock.”

Banging my hands against the brick wall, I feel my release flood through my body, my nerves bursting. Zayn’s moans pounds in my ear drums, as my screams of ecstasy roam around the empty parking lot. Panting, I lean up against the wall, Zayn’s cock still lodged deep inside me. He slumps against my back, holding onto my waist. With his lips pressed against my shoulder, he caresses my hips with his thumb.

“That was great,” Zayn murmurs.

“Best sex, ever,” I sigh.

“So can I have your number?”

“Most definitely.”

“Another round of pool?”

“Sounds good.”

Don't leave... (Zayn)

a Zayn- oneshot, I hope you like it :) Xxx.

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First time

(Zayn for Lana)


It was around 8 pm and the warm, yellow setting sun was warm and calming against our skin. We had been on this beach since 3 pm and yet we hadn’t seen anyone. When we left the hotel we went to a little shop and bought a blanket, beach towels, pillows, food, several water bottles, strawberries and chocolate sauce. The clear, turquoise water had now turned into a beautiful yellow tint, reflecting the sun. This had been the 100th time I looked up from my book to take in the breathtaking view. It was so peaceful and harmonic reading a book whilst listening to the ocean waves hitting beach. All the green trees’ and beautiful wild flowers’ scent mixed with the fresh water filling up our noses, hearing birds chanting and feeling the gentle breeze cooling down our bodies now and then.

 

I looked over my shoulder and saw Zayn in his deepest sleep. His body had turned into a mixture of a nice tan some places and a beginning-sunburn from his torso and up. I giggled a little at his cute sleeping-pout as I put down my book and lazily roamed my beach bag for sunscreen. The sun was still hot so I rubbed some more sunscreen on him, trying my best to not wake him. Being the pale person I am, I didn’t want him to get sunburn too because I have experienced that unpleasing pain quite a lot. Very gently I covered his face in a thin layer of the lotion and went down to his neck and shoulders. As my hands started rubbing in his chest, Zayns eyes began to flicker over, adjusting to the light.

 

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Mr. Malik

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Rushing through the halls, the only things catching my attention was the open lockers and gunk on the ground from people racing to their classes. Swinging the door open to history, all eyes fall on me as I meekly smile at Mr. Malik. With his hands crossed in front of him, he gives a nod to my seat. Swiftly walking over to it, I seat myself behind Patrick who’s snickering at me. Smacking his shoulder, he turns around giving me a look.

“What?” I ask.

“Why are you late?” Patrick asks.

“I was going to the bathroom,” I mutter.

“You mean touching up?” he grins.

Smacking him upside the head, he turns back around rubbing the spot where I hit him.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” Mr. Malik yawns.

“Yes?” I question.

“Can you tell me what theory Freud believed in?” he asks.

“Mr. Malik, last time I checked this was history,” I smirk. “Not psychology.”

“Stay after class Ms. Y/L/N,” he glares. “We need a word.”

A chorus of ‘oohs’ circulate around the room, girls giggling into their hands and boys talking to their friends. Patrick turns around patting me on the back.

“Congratulations,” Patrick grins. “Maybe he’ll fuck you into oblivion on his desk.”

“And what spank me with his ruler?” I giggle.

“Now you’re getting the idea.”

“He wouldn’t fucked me even if I got on my knees and begged.”

“If you got on your knees, he’d have other ideas.”

“I’d do anything to suck him off.”

“Me too.”

Giggling, I sit back in my seat, Mr. Malik going on about the Industrial Revolution. Tapping my fingers on my desk, I look up to find Mr. Malik in front of me. Blushing, I bring my hand down to my lap as he sits down on the edge of my desk. Leaning over in my ear, I smell the strong scent of his aftershave lingering under my nose.

“Keep interrupting me, I’ll take you over my knee and I will spank you with my ruler.”

Sinking down in my chair, I feel my forehead burn with anticipation and my throat dry. Clearing my throat, I nod and he goes back up to the front. Patrick turns around a giant grin on his face.

The bell rings, everyone flying out of their seats heading to their next class. Grabbing my books I walk up to his desk, as he highlights something on a piece of paper. Biting on my lip, I feel the adrenaline rush through my veins as he looks up at me. Standing up, he comes around the desk, sitting on the corner with his arms crossed. Setting myself on a desk, I place my books in the seat just gazing at him. The rolled up cuffs on his shirt, the stark black tie around his neck. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I swing my legs back and forth.

“Why were you late today Y/N?” Mr. Malik asks.

“I was going to the restroom,” I mutter.

“Do you fix yourself before you come to my class, Y/N?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

Blushing, I fidget with my fingers avoiding his gaze. I hear him rise to his feet, his steps stopping right in front of me. He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Do you have a crush on me, Y/N?”

“A little one.”

“So little that you’d give anything to suck me off?”

“Are you going to punish me, or just list off things that I want to do to you?”

“Oh I’m gonna punish you.”

Pulling me off the desk, he forces me to stand his hands snaking their way down my back. Gasping, he guides his hands underneath my skirt cupping me. Guiding us back to his desk, he pushes everything off throwing me on it. Hovering over me, he kisses me his teeth nipping my bottom lip. Tracing my fingers up his back, he growls as I pull the hair at his nape. Sitting up, he pops open the buttons on my top groaning at the sight of my soft pink lace bra.

“How fucking sexy can you be?”

I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks at his words, my stomach churning with butterflies. Untying his tie I throw it to the floor, my hands flying to the buttons on his shirt. Peeling it off of him, he tugs off his undershirt. Shrugging my button down off, Mr. Malik pulls my skirt down, his fingers pressing into my clit through my panties. Bucking my hips, he slams them back down. He hops off the desk, sitting down in his chair. Turning myself around, so my feet hang off the desk Mr. Malik pats his legs. Getting down I stand in front of him, his hands gripping my hips and laying me over his thighs. With his forearm pressed to my lower back, he pins me to him, his other hand stroking my butt.

“What are you doing?” I shudder.

“I’m gonna spank you, darling.”

I feel a surge of heat coarse through me, the thought making me delirious. Mr. Malik pulls down my panties, them dropping at my ankles. Taking a deep breath, I feel him open up a drawer I’m facing pulling out a thick hardwood ruler.

“Oh shit,” I mutter.

The ruler comes down hard against the cheek, a surging pain spreading through the skin.

“No swearing,” Mr. Malik scolds. “Do you know why you’re getting spanked Y/N?”

“I was bad?”

“Very bad.”

The ruler comes down again, the pain making me dizzy. Breathing heavily, I hear Mr. Malik counting each time he spanks me. I feel the wetness gather as the hits send a pleasurable sting through my body.

“Sixteen,” Mr. Malik mumbles.

He sets the ruler down on the desk, the back of his palm soothing the broken skin. Moaning at the feel, he spreads my thighs, his fingers sliding through my folds. Gasping, I sit up looking at him. He’s got a sly grin on his face.

“What now?” I question.

“Get on your knees.”

Pulling his trousers down, I stroke him through his boxers. Feeling him throb beneath my palm, I peel his boxers down his cock springing free. I watch as he leans his head back, groaning. Taking him in my hand, I pump him the head oozing with precum. Sticking my tongue out, I flutter it against the tip. His hands fly to the back of my head, forcing me down on his cock. Gagging, I bob my head as he thrusts his hips up. My nose brushes his pubic bone, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat. Moaning on his cock, he sucks in a breath his hands guiding my mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Swirling my tongue around the base, he starts to twitch. Touching the vein with the tip of my tongue, I feel his cum slide down my throat, Mr. Malik holding me there to swallow it. Standing up I lick my lips, Mr. Malik smirking with satisfaction.

“Bend over, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Turning around, I bend over the desk, leaning my head down. I hear Mr. Malik’s chair scoot behind me, his hands soothing the still tender skin where he spanked me. He spreads my legs with his hands, his cock pressing against my clit.

“Mr. Malik,” I plea. “Please.”

“My name’s Zayn, baby,” he smirks. “That’s what you’re gonna scream.”

Sinking himself into me, I sigh in content at the feel. He grunts behind me, pumping the thick shaft in and out of my wet heat. Gripping the lip on his desk, I guide my hips back against him. His hands grip my hips, his fingertips digging into the skin.

“Is this what you wanted Y/N?” Zayn teases. “Me fucking you hard against my desk?”

“Yeah,” I moan.

He thrusts in deeper, grazing my g-spot. Gasping, I dig my nails into his desk. Going faster and harder, he grunts and swears as I clench around him.

“Zayn, Zayn, fuck!”

Tightening around him, he lets out a growl, his hand reaching around and rubbing my clit.

“Zayn!”

Releasing around him, I grip harder onto the desk as I fall on cloud nine. Zayn throws his head back a long groan coming from deep in his chest. Panting, I fall on his desk, Zayn releasing his liquids. He falls against my back, kissing my shoulder blades.

“That was so fucking good,” he breathes.

“You have no idea,” I giggle.

“Should’ve done that a long time ago.”

“Wait what?”

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted it too.”

“Even with the googly eyes?”

“I get googly eyes from every girl in this school?”

“How many have you fucked?”

“Just you.”

“Well that’s good I guess.”

“Don’t wear panties tomorrow, well at least not to my class.”

“Why?”

“You’re being moved to the front, and I want that perfect cunt in view.”

“You’re gonna fuck me tomorrow too?”

“I’m gonna fuck you everyday.”

The Process of Fic/Oneshot Reading: (described by elephants in water)

At first, you’re just testing the water to see what everybody finds so great about it.

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After a little while, you realize that it’s quite nice so you sit comfortably and take them in a bit.

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Then it’s just bliss and smut and you can’t stop reading and it’s just rainbows and butterflies and OTPs and perfect

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And then suddenly BAM. Feels and tears and blood and stomach curdling pain grow and nothing can match the lament they give you but you can’t get out no matter how hard you consistently try. You’re in too deep and the feels keep weighing you down and all you can do is sob uncontrollably and it’s just all too much and you want to kill whoever made you feel so much emotion.

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Finally, in the end, you just accept the fact that you’re drowning in your own tears.

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Prom Night

                For months I had been planning the night we were about to endure. She had been searching for her dress just as long, finding out that she wouldn’t let me see because she wanted it to be a surprise. The only thing she told me was to wear just a black suit, black tie, you know the traditional suit. I sat in this town car, making my way through the streets so I could get to her house, holding that box with the corsage in it, adjusting my jacket to my likening. It was unfortunately raining today, something that couldn’t spoil any plans we had made for tonight. We rolled onto her street, umbrella handle in my palm as I got ready to go in and see her. The care coming to a stop by the curb, I sighed out, ‘I can do this’ I thought to myself. I pulled the handle of the door and pushed against it, stepping out into the light rain, popping the umbrella up so cover me. I shut the door with my best efforts, pulling my jacket down again because I was starting to get nervous. I took my first step towards her front door, one foot in front of the other, climbing up the steps until I could put down the umbrella and ring her doorbell.

                “Hello Zayn.” Her father said opening to door. I smiled and shook his hand, “Hello Mr. (Y/L/N).” He let go of my hand and opened the door wide, “Come on in son. She’ll be down in a minute.” I stepped in, holding the umbrella at my side, corsage in my other hand. Her dad waited with me, only looking up when her mother came across the second floor. A smile forming on her lips as she descended the stairs. “Hello Zayn, she’s coming down here now.” I turned my attention back to where her mother had come from, eyes catching that white dress of hers, bodice covered in shiny silver jewels, a slight poof as it when down her figure. God she was gorgeous, the way her hair was pinned up into a bun at the back of her head to the dangly earrings she wore to match her bodice, the white heels just peaking out as she walked across the carpet to the stairs. Silver clutch in her hand as she set he hand on the railing to hold onto. She looked up for a moment, catching my eyes, which were on the verge of brimming over with tears of joy. She smiled down at me, I smiled back because damn, she was the light to my dark. I loved her. That’s what I had planned for tonight, I wanted to tell her that I loved her.

                Her mother and father were snapping pictures as she came down the stairs but we didn’t notice because we were too caught up in each other. I walked forward to take her hand in mine when she took the last step down, I kissed her cheek, smelling her ‘light blue’ by dolce & gabbana the one I found myself liking each and every time she wore it. We turned to face her parents, mother still snapping pictures. I wrapped my arm around her waist, smiling at the camera for a good five minutes before (Y/N) told her mom we would be late. I slipped on the corsage, her mother snapped a few pictures of that too. She pinned my  boutonniere to my suit. She hooked her arm in mine as I held up the umbrella for her, the town car driver had the door open and waiting for us. We walked down to the car and I helped her in, climbing in after her as I pushed her poofy gown to the side. “I really love your dress babe.” I kissed her cheek, pecking it until she giggled and pushed my chest a little. “I knew you would. Now let’s get to prom shall we?” She asked as she looked at me, I nod and take this opportunity to pull her in for a kiss. “I um, hope your parents don’t mind that we got a hotel to stay in, cliché and all babe.” She laughed a little, “My dad was skeptical about it. I confirmed to both my parents that whatever to happen tonight, I’d be safe and I wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t ready to do.”

                Oh god, she felt the same way I did. I wasn’t going to push her to do anything she didn’t want. The town car pulled away down the street and to our destination. We were there within the next half hour, following the line of students into the building, girls staring at the two of us and complementing her dress. Some guys would pat my back like It looked like I was getting some tonight. I would just nod to them because I had different intention than fucking her tonight in that hotel just under the penthouses. She was far too fragile for that and I was classier than most of these boys. We got in there, took our pictures and began to dance the night away. Upbeat and slow songs all in the mix, whatever it may be we danced to a good ninety percent of the songs, only stopping for a drink and to talk to a few of our friends. The night was drawing to an end and our feet were sore, “I can’t wait to take these heels off babe.” She smiled up at me as we dance to the last slow song of the night. I laugh, “I’ll help you get them off if you’re too tired to when we get up there.” She nodded and rested her head on my chest, our feet allowing us to sway around in circles.

                The song came to an end and we began to say our goodbyes to other girls and guys heading out, taking last minutes pictures because this was senior year and hell, why not. I finally managed to get us back to the lobby and over to the elevator. I guess our bags were sent over by our parents an hour ago, waiting up in our rooms for us. I clicked the up button to the side, hearing it ding as it opened up for us. Stepping in and pushing the fourteenth floor button. No one else accompanied us up, “What a night. Was it like you wanted?” I asked her, her hands holding onto my arm. “Just like I pictured. Thanks Zayn.” She leaned up to kiss me as I was unaware that she raised a camera too, snapping the picture of the two of us in the elevator. She broke away to look at it, “Now that’s a keeper.” She smiled and set it to her background. “Het send that to me.” She bit her lip, “Or we can do it again.” I laughed but pulled my phone out anyways. I moved in, laughed a little as we smiled into the kiss, snapping a picture for myself. We looked at it, “Look at us, professionals at taking kissing pictures.” I set it to my background just as the elevator doors opened up to our floor. I took the room key from my pocket as we made our way down the hall to our room.

                The key slid down the slot, little light turning green as I turned the handle and lead us inside, the door shutting behind us with a click. The room a light by dim lights with flower pedals spread across the couches and presumable the bed in the room to our left. She stepped in front of me, eyes examining everything she could. I took this as an opportunity to sweep her in my arms, one arm under her knees and one under her back, a little giggle coming from her. “Zayn!” She smiled at me, I smiled back, pecking her forehead as I brought her to the room, laying her on the bed so I could slip off those painful looking heels. She flexed her toes as I stood, loosening my tie. I sit down next to her, letting my body fall back so I can rest easy. The butterflies swarming in my stomach like bees. “Hey (Y/N)?” I ask her, biting away anything I feel about regretting this. “Yeah babe?” She asks taking my hand that lies between us. “I have something to tell you, something important.” She turns her head to me, messing up her hair a little in the process, her eyebrows furrowed. “Go on.” She says, my head nodding, chest rising as I take in a deep breath. ‘Just do it Malik. She has to feel the same.’ I think to myself, “I love you.” I breath out, hoping she heard it, “You what?” She asked, if it was hard the first time it’s a bit harder this time. I turn my head to her, leaning up on one elbow to take a look down at her. “I love you (Y/N).” Tears well in her eyes, I catch on as I falls down her cheek, she takes in a shaky breath, hand coming up to capture my neck to pull me in for a kiss.

                When she pulls away, she wipes her eyes, laughing at herself, “I love you Zayn. Sorry for crying it’s just,” She sniffled and I wiped at the tears again, “Shh, hey it’s fine. Let’s just, change into something more comfortable yeah?” I stand up, reaching out to take her hands so I pull her to her feet. “You’ll need to help me though, I can’t reach the zipper.” She turns her back to me, her shoulders smooth and golden, the dip of her spine right under the zipper. I approach, taking the metal in between my fingers, hot breath down her back as I pull it down, revealing the strap to her strapless bra and the top of her panties. I step closer, kissing at her neck just below her ear form behind. “You looked absolutely beautiful tonight by the way.” I whisper in between small pecks. She leans her head back onto my shoulder, shimmying out of her white dress in the process leaving her mostly bare against my undone jacket and white dress shirt. I let my fingertips pebble over her warm skin, turning her around by her hips, she slips her hands in the shoulders of my jacket to slip it off. White dress shirt following it to the ground. Belt on my dress pants undone and button popped as the zipper is pulled down by her trembling hands.

                I push the pants down so I can step out of them, partially embarrassed at the fact that I was semi-hard for her right now. She bit her lip, “Not tonight.” She whispers as she kissed my lips. I nod and pick her up in my arms as I laid her down on the bed, rolling on top of her to I can lay next to her. “How about we order something like take out? I’m starved.” I ask as she thinks about it. Agreeing with it as she nods her head, “Chinese?” I smiled and kiss her cheek before I get up and call down to the lobby asking If they have a menu for the local place. So when they brought it up we ordered, waited and received our food. We laughed and we talked and we watched movies and ate the food and got pop to drink. I fuckin loved her and this is why. We were up in a hotel room on prom night doing the complete opposite of most people. No sex, just food and talking and cuddling because you know what, she loved me and I loved her. Our time would come and when it does, I’ll be sure to have it planned months in advanced because I don’t want to fuck anything up. She was worth the wait, because I was in love and that’s what you do when you are, you wait. Because any time with her is worth it because we have all the time in the world.

15 Complicated Rules to Have Fuck Buddies

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This is chapter Three of one of my friend’s fanfics, she was the one who wrote Let’s Pretend It’s Love. I really love this fanfiction and you should give it a go, I’ll probably end up posting most of the chapters here, but give her all your love in the fanfic page: 

15 Complicated Rules To Have Fuck Buddies

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Chapter One.

“Nalla, you need to be more serious about these things,” Willow groaned.

“Why?” Nalla giggled.

“Come on,” she murmured. “This is due next week, and I feel like I’m the only one in our group doing the work.”

“Not true!” Nalla protested. “I already wrote the paper.”

“What do you guys have going on this weekend?” Willow asked.

“Party,” Bo smirked.

“Again?” Willow questioned.

“Sorry, I don’t go to the Y and teach little nasties how to breathe underwater,” Bo retorted.

“You’re not funny,” Willow glared.

“I’m fucking hilarious!” Bo shouted. “What are you doing this weekend, Nalla?”

“Probably going to sit at home and read,” Nalla shrugged.

“Come on, Nalla!” Bo exclaimed. “You can’t find one fun thing to do in this town?”

“It’s Dover, Bo,” Nalla retorted. “There is nothing to do here.”

“Come to the party with me tonight,” Bo shrugged.

“Why?” Nalla asked.

“Might meet somebody,” Bo smiled.

“Like Nalla’s gonna meet somebody,” Willow laughed. “She hates boys.”

“But boys don’t hate her,” Bo smirked.

“Nalla?” Mrs. Patterson called.

“Yes?” Nalla questioned.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Mrs. Patterson smiled.

Getting up from the chair, Nalla made her way over to Mrs. Patterson. By the look on the teacher’s face, Nalla could tell this was a request. Like always.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Patterson?” Nalla gestured.

“One of my older students is having trouble in English,” Mrs. Patterson shrugged. “Asked if he could have some tutoring, when I agreed he said he already had a tutor in mind. That tutor was you.”

“May I ask who it is?” Nalla questioned.

“Zayn Malik.”

Nalla felt the color drain from her face, and by the look on Mrs. Patterson’s face, she saw it too. Suddenly the room felt tight to Nalla, uncomfortable. Almost as if someone had shoved her against a wall and pressed a professional linebacker up to her.

“Did he say why?” Nalla asked.

“Said he knew you were good at this,” Mrs. Patterson croaked.

“Um…When do I tutor him?”

“This afternoon.”

So soon. The words flew through Nalla’s brain like a flash. Just the fact that those brown eyes would be expecting her at the end of the day made her shiver.

“Nalla, you don’t have to do it,” Mrs. Patterson comforted.

“No,” Nalla protested. “I’ll do it.”

Mrs. Patterson just nodded, and walked out of the library. Making her way back to the corner, Nalla sat down next to Willow, the conversation in the air slowly dying down.

“What’s the matter?” Bo questioned.

“I have to tutor someone after school,” Nalla murmured.

“You look like you just killed someone,” Willow commented. “Who is it?”

“Zayn Malik.”

The looks on both the girls’ faces told Nalla that they were also scared for her. Sinking down in her chair, Nalla fumbles with her fingers feeling her nerves calm.

“Why him?” Willow whispered.

“He asked for me,” Nalla snarled.

“Dude, he’s dangerous,” Bo affirmed. “I saw him break this guys leg at a party one time, it was so bad.”

“Why?” Nalla inquired.

“Looked at him the wrong way, I guess,” Bo shrugged.

“When do you meet with him?” Willow asked.

“This afternoon,” Nalla answered.

“Are you worried?” Bo addressed.

“I don’t know,” Nalla sighed.

“So he might be potentially dangerous,” Bo drawled. “It’s not like he’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t think he’d hurt you,” Willow admitted.

“How do you know that?” Nalla snapped.

“Nalla,” Willow comforted. “He’s only got his mother, and sisters. With them around I’m pretty sure, he’s never laid his hand on a woman.”

“You don’t know that,” Nalla grumbled.

“Nalla,” Bo chimed in. “He fought a guy for putting his hand on Stephanie Smith’s ass, when she told him to back off.”

“He’s protective of women,” Willow argued.

“But he gives me the creeps,” Nalla shuddered.

“Why?” Bo asked.

“I always feel like he’s watching me,” Nalla shrugged.

“Maybe he likes you,” Willow smiled.

“Yeah right,” Nalla remarked. “He’s dated the toughest girls in the school, I just sweep by.”

“Maybe he wants someone sweet,” Bo pointed out.

“How can someone so mean want someone sweet?” Nalla grimaced.

“How do you know he’s mean?” Willow asked.

“I don’t,” Nalla groaned. “He just comes off that way.”

The bell rings, the conversation ending quickly. Bo and Willow rise from their seats, a silence following them as they stumble out of the library. Nalla sighed, covering her face with her hands. The door slamming shut snapped her out of her thoughts, her head quickly lifting. Leaning against the door was the most somber person she had ever come to face. The sound of Zayn’s boots stomping against the tile, brought Nalla back to attention. Watching Zayn, she caught the smell of fresh leather and some cologne.

“Hello Nalla,” Zayn greeted.

“Hello Zayn,” Nalla sighed.

“Thanks for doing this for me,” he smiled.

“No problem,” she murmured.

“You seem nervous.”

You would be too, if you were sitting with Lucifer.

“Why?” Zayn questioned.

“I’m not,” Nalla lied.

“You’re either shaking or shivering, which is it?”

“Shivering.”

“Want my coat?”

“No.”

“Just offering.”

“Just denying.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

Do I need to write a list?

“I just don’t.”

“That’s not a reason.”
“You don’t need an answer.”

Zayn sighed, standing up from his chair. Nalla watched as Zayn slipped off his coat, the gold cross he wore around his neck flashing. That’s when she saw it, the red ruby dead in the center.

“You’re in Crossfire aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Crossfire, the gang.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I just wanted an answer.”

“Answer my question, then.”

“What was it?”

“Why don’t you like me?”

“You’re cocky, and always tense. Just give off a bad vibe.”

“Is that it?”

“That and that you’re always full of questions.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope, now answer my question.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“Safety.”

Nalla pondered at his answer, different thoughts soaring through her mind. Zayn noticed the interested look on her face. The look that gave him the intention that more questions were about to come at him. Sick of interrogations, he stood up and grabbed his books.

“Where are you going?” Nalla snapped.

“Home,” Zayn smirked.

“We haven’t even started.”

“I don’t feel like being questioned.”

“Who was going to question you?”

“You were.”

“How would you know?”

“Your facial expression.”

“Will you just sit down?”

Zayn stepped back at her demand, the force to sit down overtaking him. Sitting down in his chair, he sets his book down on the table, glaring at Nalla.

“You don’t question me, got it?” Zayn warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do, got it?” Nalla glared.

“I can have you killed.”

“Why are you threatening me?”

Leaning back in his chair, Zayn thought about his words. How he had been so used to saying the phrase, he didn’t realize who he was saying it to.

“Never mind,” Zayn breathed. “Just never mind.”

“What are you having trouble with?” Nalla murmured.

“Everything.”

“So we need to start at the very beginning?”

“Pretty much.”

“I guess we’re starting with adjectives and verbs then.”

Looking at Zayn, Nalla noticed the way his eyes wandered over the page. The frustrated look on his face, telling her he didn’t understand what he was seeing or reading.

“How about we start on the bigger projects instead?” Nalla suggested.

“Don’t pity me,” Zayn growled.

“It’ll be better on your grade.”

“Where do we start?”

“Did you do your report on Gone with the Wind?”

“I didn’t even read it.”

Nalla gets up, walking over to the Historical Romance section. Coming back with the thick book, she drops it on the table, Zayn’s eyes sweeping over it.

“It looks boring,” he commented.

“You’re gonna read it,” she glared.

“Fine.”

Smiling to herself, Nalla sets herself down in her chair. Zayn flips open the book, his eyes slowly covering the page.

“Read to me,” Nalla requested.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’d like to read in peace if you don’t mind.”

Taken aback, Nalla pulls her own book from her backpack flipping it open. Zayn watches her, as her eyes survey the page, her fingers playing with the corners. Leaning his head on his palm, he watches her in amazement at how fast she flips the pages.

“What?” Nalla murmurs.

“Nothing,” Zayn whispers.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Oh sorry.”

“You don’t intimidate me, you know?”

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I’m more tense around you than intimidated.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How do I know that? You just told me you can have me killed.”

“I apologize.”

“Why?”

“Now you’re questioning me on why I’m apologizing? You’re ridiculous.”

“You just don’t seem like the type of guy to apologize.”

“What type of guy do I seem like?”

“The type that would fuck someone up if they looked at him wrong.”

“Because I would.”

The air suddenly got cold around them, their breathing slowing down. Zayn starts tapping on the table, the sound causing Nalla to jump.

“Jumpy aren’t we?” Zayn teased.

“You set my nerves off,” Nalla whispered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“So I’ll read this, and report to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Nalla felt the vibe ease up as soon as Zayn stood up from his chair. Slipping on his jacket, he stuffed the book in his bag. The only sound in the room being the zip of his bag. Throwing it over his shoulder, Zayn trotted out of the library, his body easing and his nerves calming. Nalla brought her calfs up on the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs. As the time went on they both felt a pulling in their stomach. A type of craving. A sudden needing for one another.

Nothing Good Happens After Midnight

this is filed under zayn, but there’s some Nialler lovin’ in there as well. it’s not slash, but they’re both in it. i worked hard on this one. free cookies for those who give me feedback. enjoy lovies x :)

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 “I swear to God, I can’t even talk to another girl without you flipping shit!”

“Zayn, I-”

“You went through my fucking phone! Who does that?” He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated.

“You left it right next to me, and it went off, why the hell wouldn’t I check it?” I yelled right back.

“It was an innocent message! Nothing’s going on, so I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you right now,” Zayn snapped. I felt tears prick my eyes at his choice of words. He suddenly lowered his voice, genuine hurt in his eyes. “What, do you not trust me?”

“Of course I do, God, Zayn. If you ‘trusted’ me too, you’d have nothing to hide!” I cried, my voice hitching on the last word.

I don’t! We were going to meet up for a drink, I haven’t seen Perrie in ages! Come off it, babe.” He reached out for me and I stepped back. My heart ached at how he faltered when I moved away from his touch.

“A drink? A drink?” I screeched. At this point I knew I was overreacting, but I suddenly couldn’t control my emotions anymore. “You know what happens after a drink? You start talking, and you order more, and you laugh a little louder, and you start feeling irrational, and everything starts looking more attractive, including that whore.” I hissed.

“She’s not a whore,” Zayn’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And you know I’m not like that.”

“Oh, really? Because you seem to have an impressive history of hit and runs,” I said venomously before I even knew what had come out of my mouth. He looked like I had slapped him across the face. “Oh God, Zayn, I didn’t mean-”

“No.” He put his hands up. “I don’t want to hear any fucking more.” His eyes turned glassy as he stepped away from my trembling figure. He looked so devastated, there was nothing I wanted to do more at that moment than run into his arms and tell him how much I loved him and how much of a stupid, jealous bitch I was.

“I didn’t-”

No. I’m done. We’re done.” Zayn’s voice cracked.

“I…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. What was I supposed to say? I’m sorry for being jealous? I’m sorry I’m not as pretty as her? I’m sorry I’m such an overemotional girl who can’t deal with all the beautiful women of my boyfriend’s past? I’m sorry I ever made eye contact with you? I’m sorry for loving you? Insufficient apologies ran through my head as he stared straight through me, firing icy pain through my heart. There were tears in his eyes; the sight of them made my own start falling. A sudden knock at the door made me whip around, and I quickly wiped my eyes as Niall and Liam made an ill-timed entrance.

“Oi! You won’t believe what we just-” Niall bellowed, with Liam trailing behind, the afterglow of a laugh on his face. Niall’s joyful smile froze as he saw us, azure eyes widening. “Hey, you alright?” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to Zayn or me, so I glanced back around. All I saw was a door slam forcefully.

“What’s going on?” Liam said softly.

“Nothing, everything’s fine,” My voice broke on fine as my emotions suddenly came through. Tears poured down my face as I sank to my knees and buried my face in my hands. I heard the slam of bags being dropped and a pair of warm arms wrap around me before I made it all the way down.
“Oh no, no no no no,” A voice coated in an Irish muddle soothed, holding me tight. I clutched at Niall’s shirt, staining it with my tears.

“It was something Zayn did, wasn’t it, that prick?” Liam whispered angrily from behind me, in front of Niall.

“Me,” I choked, surfacing and swiping at the wetness on my face. Liam looked unsure of what to do as Niall held onto me, normally playful brown eyes flooded with confusion. “My fault,” I managed after a few seconds.

“I doubt it, you’re the one crying.” Niall smiled sadly as he gently wiped away my tears with a calloused thumb. The tender gesture only made me cry more. I traced his delicate features. Beautiful gems of aquamarine held my own eyes with an intense concentration, and lips were parted slightly, revealing the characteristic glint of braces.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Liam said suddenly, and Niall and I looked away from each other.

“No, it’s not his fault,” I started, but he wouldn’t budge. Liam glanced back at me, one hand on the door knob. “If you must, please be nice.” He gave me a half smile, mouthing “okay” before stepping into the room, shutting it softly behind him. At least Zayn hadn’t locked the door. A gentle thumb on my cheek turned my attention back to Niall.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he mumbled as he held me. My breathing hitched as I felt his own breath upon my face, closer to him than ever before. Shocking blonde hair sat mussed upon his head, dark roots beginning to peek out from underneath, framing his light complexion. Eyes as blue as the ocean flooded with worry as they held mine. A few freckles sat scattered like stars across a face that had experienced more in eighteen years than most did in a lifetime. I never realized how beautiful Niall was. I bit my lip and looked away. No, I was Zayn’s. Or I used to be. “We’re done,” he echoed harshly in my mind, the memory still so recent and painful it brought on a fresh wave of tears.

“Niall, I’m so stupid,” I cried, wrapping my arms around his neck and returning my face to his shoulder, hating how pathetic I sounded. “I… I love him so much I don’t even know what to do.” I felt him tense as I said the word love, and I looked up at him. Sadness flickered in his eyes.

“I know. He loves you, too. He just doesn’t know how to go about it, that Zayn.” He sighed and wiped away more of my tears. “Please stop crying, lovie. I can’t stand to see a girl cry.” I sniffled and smiled a little. Niall pulled me closer to him, one hand around the back of my neck as I rested it on his shoulder. He placed a soft kiss on the side of my head before nuzzling it with his cheek, rocking me back and forth. I had to admit, I was more comfortable in his arms that I would have liked to be.

Just then, shouts erupted from Zayn’s bedroom. Liam. I knew he had a temper, but I had never been so unfortunate to experience it. Dialogue was angrily thrown back and forth; Zayn’s voice a low but steady rumble that increased in volume at each round of banter. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, only a few words here and there- twit, Perrie, tonight, trust- I didn’t want to hear anymore. I had started all this mess. “Er, we should go,” Niall said awkwardly, letting go of me. I nodded, wanting nothing more than to get away from there. “Brace yourself.” Before I knew it he had an arm under my knees and one around my back. I wound my arms around his neck and turned into his chest, inhaling deeply. Niall smelled faintly of pints and fresh cotton. I squeaked as he carried me through Zayn’s flat to the guest bedroom, hitting my feet a couple times on the wall on the way. “Sorry, sorry…” Liam and Zayn’s heated voices were fading, and I wasn’t sure if it was because we had left or their argument was over. Either way, I was exhausted from all the tears and fighting. Niall gently set me down on the bed, navigating the dark room with experience. It had to be at least one in the morning. The moon illuminated his figure as I felt him sit down next to me, moonlight dancing through his messy hair. He reached for the covers and pulled them up over me, gently draping them over my fatigued body. My heart ached at his tenderness. “Go to sleep, we’ll talk to Zayn, and it’ll all be fine in the morning.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Thank you.” He got up to leave, slowly. I watched him go, and suddenly realized I didn’t want to be alone, not tonight. “Wait, Niall?” He turned, and the moonlight cut through the shutters and hit his eyes spot-on in the dim room, making them glow. “Will you… stay with me? Just until I fall asleep,” I said, embarrassed at my request. I saw his eyes crinkle up at the corners, indicating a smile.

“Of course,” the Mullingar boy replied. I felt the cold sheets shift and the bed complain as Supras were kicked onto the floor and a warm figure slid in next to me. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect.” We listened to each other breathing for a moment. One warm hand found another under the sheets. My heart gave a little kick at his touch.

“Uhm, can I ask you something? It’s going to be a bit random, I know.” An uncharacteristically shy voice rose out of the darkness.

“Whatever you want, Nialler,” I couldn’t help myself.

“This is really… er, nice.” He paused. “I get… lonely now and then, without a girlfriend and all, and sometimes I just want someone to cuddle with, you know? There’s all these girls tossing themselves at me, and I kind of feel like all they want is a good romp, and I mean I want to too, but… sometimes I just want to hold someone. Like now.” I felt his head shift on the pillow, and I knew he was looking at me. He was quiet for a minute. “Do you think she’s out there?” He said suddenly, much more softly than before. I turned to him. His eyes danced in the darkness.

“Who?”

“My princess.” He looked up at the ceiling again. I gave his hand a squeeze, taking a deep breath before answering.

“I do, Niall. I think she is going to be the most perfect, beautiful, amazing girl for you. She’ll make you as much food as you want, she’ll wear your snapbacks whenever she misses you, she’ll stay up at ungodly hours of the night and sleep in until the afternoon with you, she’ll kiss you even when your mouth is sore from your braces, she’ll surprise you with Nando’s, she’ll love you unconditionally for everything you are, always, because you’ll be her Irish prince. You’re amazing and you have such a brilliant personality, one day you’re going to stumble upon the most wonderful girl you’ve ever met, and you’ll get to keep her, forever. I promise you. And you’ll live happily ever after.” I poured my heart out to him. I honestly did admire Niall in his self-restraint from the endless temptations around him; whomever he fell in love with would be a lucky girl. It really was a wonder that he didn’t have a serious girlfriend yet.

“You really think so?” he breathed, unconsciously stroking my hand and making my toes curl. Why was he having this effect on me? Now, of all times?

“Absolutely.”

“Wow. Thank you so much.” Pause. “You don’t know but… that gave me hope.”
“Oh, Niall, why would you even think of giving up hope!” I sat up on one arm. “You’re eighteen. You have so much time. Now, you’re young, this is the time to experiment with dating, figure out what kind of girls you do and don’t like, what makes you happy… I know it sucks being alone sometimes, but it makes it all worth it when you do find that special someone.”

“I… yeah.” Pause. “You’re right. You know, you really are so similar to Zayn.”

“What?” Pain seared through my chest at his name. “We’re done,” he jeered in my head. Niall continued on, oblivious.

“I feel like I can come to you with anything… you’ll talk it out with me… make everything better again. He does that with me.”

“Oh.” Dark chocolate brown eyes swirled with hurt and sadness as they retreated away from me. I turned to look at Niall and Liam, and when I glanced back, they were gone. I didn’t realize it, but I had started crying again.

“Are you…? Bloody hell, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned Zayn,” Niall moved closer to me, wrapping his arms around me as I lay there like the blubbering fool I was. My heart yanked the reigns of my emotions from my head and let all hell break loose. I didn’t deserve Zayn, dealing with my insane jealousy. I didn’t deserve Niall, here, holding me like this. I didn’t deserve Liam, defending me. If I had never checked Zayn’s phone, it would be him, holding me now, as he pressed his soft lips into my hair like he did every night before we slept. But if I hadn’t, would he have gone out to meet Perrie without telling me, to have a few drinks, and God knows what after that? If I hadn’t checked his phone, would I be here in Niall’s arms, having feelings for him I never thought I could? What the hell was wrong with me? Warm lips on my cheek tore me from the demons battling between my head and my heart. Gentle, unfamiliar lips. Not the supple, slightly chapped ones I was used to. They pressed a kiss to my skin, right over a tear, and retreated. I closed my eyes, drinking in the warm air on my face.

“Niall…”

“I’m here.”

Breathing became rhythmic as exhaustion pulled us both into the depth of blissful slumber. At some point during the night he slipped away from me, and I woke up shivering, winding the sheets tighter around me in an effort to stay warm in the absence of his heat. Zayn’s eyes, full of tears and pain, flashed through my mind again, and I squeezed my own shut in an effort to drive them out. I tossed and turned throughout the night, hands searching for him, only coming up with cold sheets and empty promises. I sat up in bed. I couldn’t take this anymore. I slipped out, making my way silently through the flat. The Supras Niall had kicked off earlier in his haste were gone. The gray light of dawn radiated from the window in the foyer as I tried to be as soundless as possible. Liam and Niall were nowhere to be found, and the home was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to a few hours ago. By habit, I ended up in front of Zayn’s door. It stood shut in my face, a barrier, daring me to test it. I took a breath, counted to three, and turned the knob. The door swung open with much more ease than I had expected, only because there had been someone opening it as well on the other side. I stared at my main source of pain. We looked at each other for a moment. And suddenly we were in each other’s arms, holding tight, unwilling to be the first to let go. I started to pull away to say something but Zayn pulled me up off the floor before words could escape. I let him carry me towards the bed and lay me down. He stayed silent as I watched him straighten up and throw his shirt over head, tossing it onto the floor. He slipped into bed with me, and I immediately felt the heat exuding from his gorgeous physique. Head laid down on the pillow next to mine, he looked at me. His eyes were rimmed with red, dark bags underneath, and his normally coiffed hair was sticking out at every angle. The faint scent of cigarettes, a smell I had become to be comforted by, was in the air. He only smoked when he was stressed since we had started dating.

“Zayn, I-” I was interrupted by his finger, which he had pressed to my lips. I looked at him in surprise. The right side of his mouth tilted up in the smirk that I loved so much. He shook his head, and pulled me close to his bare abdomen, not saying a word. “I’m sorry.” I whispered into his tattoo on the top right of his chest. He pressed his lips to my head in reply, simultaneously pulling the icy sheets over us. The last thing I remembered was his fingers raking through my hair as I fell asleep in his arms. I guess I was forgiven.

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