Smut

Zayn Malik Smut

WARNING: This is basically pure smut, so if you don’t like that kind of thing I would’t recommend this to you. :)

If you like jealous zayn then you'll defiantly like this
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you entered your flat together.  Zayn had been moody the whole ride home, loosely holding your hand, staring out the window, and only answering you with one syllable responses. You knew something was up, but you didn’t want to call him out in front of the boys, so you talked to Harry the rest of the way back.

When you walked into the living room he pulled his coat off and threw it onto the back of the couch, before storming away, not saying a word. You had dealt with angry Zayn before, and you knew better than to confront him about it.  In cases like this is was always best for you to let him come to you, rather than to pry the information out of him.

You walked to the bedroom and stripped off your shirt and jeans, and changed into one of Zayn’s jumpers. You decided to just have your panties on underneath is as it was already quite warm in the apartment and Zayn tended to be a personal heater at night. You heard the shower running, so you went to the kitchen and made two cups of tea.

You walked back to the bedroom careful not to spill any tea on the ground.  Zayn was sitting on the bed clad in only a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.  His black hair was hanging down over his forehead, partially covering one of his eyes and you felt a sudden urge to run your fingers through it and push it back out of the way.

“Hey,” you said softly, “I made you a cup of tea.” You reached out and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the cup and placing it on the nightstand without a second glance.  He lay on the back on the bed with his upper body propped up by the numerous pillows and folded his arms across his chest, staring across the room with a brooding look on his face.

You made your way around the bed to your side and placed the teacup on the table before pulling back the covers and slipping in underneath them. You grabbed your book and reading glasses off the table and opened to your bookmarked page.

“Why are you all the way over there?” Zayn murmured, and you turned to see him indicating to the gap of space between the two of you.

“Well, you’re mad about something, so I’m just giving you some space to cool off,” you explained.

“Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I don’t want you close to me,” he said and reached over pulling you closer to him so your sides were touching.

“So your mad at me?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow. “What exactly did I do?” You raked your brain trying to think of something you had said or done to upset him but came up with nothing.

“Why don’t you ask Harry?” he demanded, averting his gaze from your eyes.

“Harry?” you had been talking to him a little more than usual lately when you saw each other, but it was just because you were friends. Zayn looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for you to admit your wrong doings. “Okay,” you shrugged your shoulders at him, “you lost me.”

He growled softly and leaned over to his nightstand.  He yanked open a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper that had been printed off the computer.  He dropped it on your lap and pointed at it. “Read,” he demanded.

You shot him a look before picking up the paper and reading out loud, “Harry Styles of the wildly popular boy band One Direction was seen flirting with fellow band member Zayn Malik’s girlfriend.  Uh oh, sounds like trouble in the One Direction world.”  Below was a full article about how a couple days ago you and Zayn had gone to get dinner with the boys and when you had gotten there Harry had given you a hug to say hello (as did the rest of the boys).  There was an image of the hug, and a picture of Zayn looking rather irritated, but when you looked at his shirt it wasn’t even the one he had been wearing that night. “You know this is bullshit right?”