Preferences/Imagines w/ one direction.

Some preferences/imagines with One Direction for you ;) I'd be happy if you would leave some feedback - thank you !

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90. One more time

90# One more time w/Zayn

Note - Tried something new, this time it isn't one of the boys who fucks things up lol it's you, my dear

Wrote this in French class btw I'm so badass

"Nothing," you had replied to your boyfriend’s endless stream of questions. Honestly you wished you didn’t understand him at all. He was getting stupidly defensive over everything. Looking up, you saw Zayn, running his hand through his hair, clearly agitated. He was obviously hoping for another response than the one you had given. I mean, he deserved an answer to such a simple question right?  "Zayn, I swear to god, nothing happened. Like that guy is a friend. I stayed the night, cause I was piss drunk," sighing you turned back to your screen, biting your lip, praying he wouldn’t see past your lie. "Why didn’t you call me then?" he countered and you shot him a look of disbelief, hoping it would work. "It’s hard enough to get you up for important stuff, what makes you think you’ll get up to pick me up?" but honestly you knew that he would’ve. Or at least called a taxi for you. So why hadn’t you? Why did you agree to go home with your “friend” just so you could feel warm again? Why did you regret the night before and come home with a lie? Why? Feeling the sofa go down a little bit, you looked up to see Zayn sitting there, hands intertwined. You closed your laptop and put it away, before leaning over and kissing the boy in front of you. You both easily fell into the action, bodies moving together and you almost forgot Zayn knew. You knew, he knew, it was obvious enough. Yet he never said a word about you lying. He didn’t say anything. Pushing down a feeling of guilt, you both continued, not stopping.  As you lay there, breathing steady and harsh, you turned to face the man beside, turned to face your mistake. No, your actions. Zayn looked up, pain and hurt on his face. The worst part? He wasn’t even angry. No anger, it just looked like he had given up. "I can’t do this anymore," he said, voice cracking. Slowly he moved to get up and you were hit once again by that pang of coldness. One which you learned only he could fill. One which had made you selfish. Grabbing his wrists, you leaned over and kissed him, slowly and deeply, pushing him down into the sheets. Pulling back for a moment, you stared in his eyes, and you both knew what was coming next. "Just stay. Please one more time. I won’t mess this up, I swear," you whispered against his, even though in a few weeks you’d be here in this bed again.

You knew, he knew, you both knew.

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