1D smut book

zayn - the way you want 'em

credits:  me (wattpad)
warnings: smut, dom/sub, touching, teasing
word count: ~8k

Rain. It's always raining in this town nowadays. I don't even know where it came from.Just one day while I was walking across the college campus, it was as sunny as it could be, but then it started raining. Hard. And it hasn't stopped for two days.

As frustrating as it is, the rain does have some good qualities to it. Like the sound. The smooth drumming of the water on the coffee shop's roof helps me clear my mind to write this ten page term paper that's due tomorrow. It also helps me block out the sounds of others, like people coming into the shop to get coffee, conversations, and the screams of dedicated One Direction fans outside.

I've been so busy with college lately that I hadn't heard the news until today, but one of the members of One Direction are in town. Not sure which one, though. Fans are lined up everywhere just to "accidentally" run into the band member, even in this kind of weather. Complete idiots, they are. Why in the world would you do some crazy stunt like that? People have nothing better to do, that's why. Whereas I'm trying to do this damn goddy paper with all of those damn goddy Directioners screaming their damn goddy heads off. They're screaming like he's already out there, whichever one it is.

I type on my keyboard as fast as my fingers let me. I've procrastinated way too much on this paper when I know it's worth a big part of my overall semester grade. If I fail this, I fail the whole class. I've never been more nerve wrecked in my entire life. I try to ignore any other movement around me but my own. I reach out without looking for my iced coffee when I realize it's been refilled. My waiter must have replenished my glass while I wasn't paying attention. I mentally thank him as I take a long sip and continue typing. God, my hands ache, but I can't slack off. This needs to get finished tonight, or my ass is grass.

When you think about it, I'm only in medical school, but there's no real significance in writing a ten page report all about medicine. It's just medicine. Yeah, it saves lives, but who wants to spend their precious time going on and on about—

"Hey," I hear a voice say. I suddenly look over to the left of my booth, but discover no one standing there. "Across from you," the person says. I look forward and see a guy sitting on the other side of the booth slightly smirking. And what do you know? It's Zayn Malik.

A surge of memories come back from my younger days when I listened to One Direction. I literally worshipped them, and I idolized Zayn. I would stare at Zayn's GIFs on Tumblr for hours, put his posters on my wall, and I even wrote silly little fanfics about him. I always imagined one day meeting him and I wondered what I'd say to him to make a good impression. The kind of impression that would make him want to take me home. But now, since I've grown less fond of him, I just want him to fuck off.

I furrow my eyebrows as I peer over my glasses at him. "Took you long enough. I feel like I've been sitting here for ages," he laughs.

"Why didn't you say something, then?" I growl at him.

"I wanted to see how long it'd take for you to notice," Zayn says, pulling his black beanie further onto his head.

"Did I tell you that you could sit there?" I ask.

"No, not really," he answers.

"Then why are you there?"

Thought that maybe we could talk."

"I'm just going to suppose you didn't see me deep in work when you sat down uninvited," I utter.

"Well, you look like you need a break, anyway," Zayn says.

"And you want me to spend it with you? Didn't your mother teach you not to talk to strangers?" I bark at him.

"Strangers are only strangers until you talk to them. Then they are either your friend or your enemy," Zayn says, his eyes gleaming and his mouth smiling. My glare becomes harder being that his smartass mouth has pissed me off, but he doesn't seem to budge.