Login with:








Your info will not be visible on the site. After logging in for the first time you'll be able to choose your display name.

Zayn And Harry And Niall And Louis And Liam One Shots

The Interview

Nervously, I lifted my hand to the back of my head, making sure that my hair was still securely pinned at the nape of my neck. I then adjusted my pencil skirt, smoothing out any creases, before I finally brought myself to knock on the door before me.
This was my first interview for the new position I’d just been hired into. Somehow, straight out of university, I had secured a job with Chicago’s most popular new magazine. Some people might refer to us as a “tabloid” – a dirty word in the vocabulary of any good journalist. I liked to think of us as “current”, “trendy”, or “the first to know”. Most certainly not tabloid trash.
Whatever you wanted to call us, Chicago Buzz ensured its readers that each week’s issue would include the most up to date news, photos, and interviews. And that was where I came in.
This morning, the daily itinerary was emailed out to each department, which meant that I was receiving my first assignment on the job. When I opened the email, my jaw dropped so far it nearly landed on my keyboard. Somehow, on my first day, I had landed an interview with a member of one of the biggest bands currently in the music industry.

I knew right then and there that I was going to like it here.
My head snapped up as the door swung open and I saw a large, burly man standing in the entryway.
“Are you with the magazine?” he questioned, his deep voice intimidating me slightly.
I straightened up and extended my hand, trying to appear as professional as I could, “Yes, I’m Raelene, and I’m with Chicago Buzz. The woman at the front desk directed me here, I hope I’m not interrupting,” I stopped, forcing myself to take a deep breath, knowing that I was coming across as a nervous mess.
The man stepped away from the door and ushered me in. All I had been told about this location was that it was one of the recording studios that they were currently using. Of course, this room wasn’t in fact where the recordings were being done, just our interview for today. It was a small space, with a plush loveseat on the back wall by the window, and table with two chairs at the center.
“He will be in momentarily,” I was suddenly left in the room alone, unsure of what to do with my time.

Attempting to busy myself, I placed my folder on one side of the table, centering it exactly in front of my chair. It contained a brief overview of important details I should know about the band and a description of the man I would be interviewing today. Although I wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, I hadn’t even needed to open the file – I knew everything that it contained, and much, much more.
I was just reapplying a coat of chapstick when the door opened once more and my subject of the day stepped in. My breathing caught in my throat.
Zayn Malik crossed the room in three strides, looking more stunning in person than I ever would have imagined. Photographs just didn’t do him justice.
He was dressed in a simple black v-neck and dark jeans, nothing extravagant. I had to admit that I was slightly disappointed not to see him wearing his signature varsity jacket, though. Nonetheless, I literally had to tear my gaze away from the exposed skin at his chest, and force myself to meet his eyes.
“Hello there, doll,” he smiled, his long dark lashes brushing against his cheeks as he looked down at me slightly.

“H-hi,” I stuttered, making a fool out of myself already, “I’m Raelene,”
“Beautiful name,” he murmured, pulling a chair out for me at the table. I blushed, caught off guard by the sudden act of chivalry.
“You can call me Rae though,” I told him as he settled into the seat that he had brought over to the corner of the table closest to me. “If you want,”
“Alright Rae,” he smiled again, and clasped his hands in his lap, waiting for me to begin the conversation.
“Erm. . .okay, so. . .” I shuffled the papers around in the file, my face getting hotter by the second, “I figured we’d start with. . .um. . .”
I didn’t understand what was going on. It was so unlike me to get this nervous. Yes, I was a bit shy and reserved, but this was taking it to a whole new level.
“Babe,” Zayn’s thick accent cut through my rambling and he reached a large hand across the table, letting it settle on my forearm, “Relax, it’s just the two of us here,”
I gulped, the skin under his palm burning like a wildfire, in the best possible way. Noticing my stare, he gently rubbed his thumb against my wrist, leaving a path of goose bumps in his wake.

I took a deep breath then let the air rush out from my pursed lips with a hiss. It was impossible to focus on anything when all I could feel was his touch.
I began again, “So you just finished up your first, full US tour, correct?” Good, that sentence had come out coherent. That was a start.
He nodded, letting his fingers dance higher on my arm now, reaching just past the crook of my elbow.
“What was your f-favorite part?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as he slid his fingers back down the length of my arm, attempting to contain myself.
Zayn flipped my hand over on the table, now tracing designs on the skin of my palm. He didn’t even bother to look up as he answered, “Meeting new people,”
I nodded, knowing that I should have started writing down his responses, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from him. His warm, chocolate eyes met mine – they had a very seductive glint in them at the moment.
“Like you, for instance,” he elaborated, leaning his body closer to mine.
“M-me?” My heart rate slowly began to climb as I watched his eyes rake over my body.

Zayn’s chair screeched away from the table as he stood and walked around to stand behind me. Before I could process what was happening, he had removed the pin from my bun and my long brown hair tumbled down around my shoulders.
“Much better,” I heard him whisper, his fingers tangling themselves in the waves, combing gently through them. My eyes fell shut as his touch and I leaned backwards into his hands.
“We should really get back to the interview,” I found myself saying in a hushed tone.
Then Zayn’s lips were at my ear, “I don’t really see the point in talking,”
I bit my lip at the sensation of his warm breath on my neck. He didn’t miss this movement, quickly leaning down until his lips were just barely touching my jaw line. I sensed that his hesitation was a silent question, asking for permission.

So I nodded.
Now, if anyone asked me how I possibly ended up in this situation, I wouldn’t have even the slightest idea of how to respond. All I knew was that there were lips on the skin of my neck – lips that were attached Zayn Malik, the most seductive member of One Direction, if not all of mankind.
He took “tall, dark and handsome” to an entirely new level. And that didn’t even come close to the number of adjectives I had running through my brain at the moment. Those were just the tamest of them all.
Strong arms pulled my chair away from the table and in one fluid motion Zayn had lifted me from the seat, sliding his body into a sitting position instead. I hovered in front of him as his hands brushed against my waist, urging me to come forward. Somehow, I managed to make my legs function, although they felt like jelly, and I took a couple tentative steps forward.
Zayn’s warm hands slid down to my hips, his grip tightening as he took in my appearance. I nearly forgot to breathe as I watched him lick his lips, eyes traveling slowly up from my waist and settling on my chest.

“So much for the interview,” I mumbled softly, surprised I still had the capability to form proper sentences.
He chuckled, pulling me even closer now until my legs were spread apart on either side of his lap. “I like this better,” His voice was deep and sexy, making me feel weak. “Come here, babe,” With a final tug, I stumbled onto his lap, my skirt hiking up high on my legs to accommodate our new position. I could have sworn I heard a soft moan escape his lips as he stared down at my thighs.
Then again, maybe that was me.
Within seconds, Zayn had attached his lips once more to the sensitive spot on my neck, right below my ear and next to my jaw bone. His kisses were soft, but forceful as he worked his way down, stopping just shy of my shirt’s collar.
“This is in my way,” he grumbled against my skin, hands fumbling at the bottom hem in an attempt to remove my shirt. In a move that surprised even me, I pulled off the blouse, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. This time I was sure I heard him groan with lust, his lips dangerously close to my breasts. “Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re fucking beautiful you know that?”
My face had to be colored scarlet by that point, “Hush,” I buried my head into his shoulder, embarrassed that he had said such a thing.

“Rae,” he cooed into my ear, nudging me until I lifted my head to look at him again, “I mean it. You are so sexy. The things I would do to you. . .”
My eyes fell to his lips, “I don’t think I’ll be able to write about those in the interview,”
“Dirty little secrets are the best kind,” and then his mouth was on mine.
Zayn nails raked across the skin on my hips, pulling me tighter against his body. My skirt was now shoved up onto my waist meaning that the only thing I could feel through my silky panties was Zayn’s growing hard on. It suddenly occurred to me that he was wearing far too many articles of clothing.
“Your turn,” I whispered seductively in his ear. With a slight smirk on his face, he leaned back into the chair, holding his arms out as if to say I’m all yours.
Yes babe, yes you are.
I tugged the t-shirt over his head, taking a moment to catch my breath as I got my first glimpse of his toned abdomen. Without meaning to, I reached down and let my fingers gently run across the curves of his muscles. I felt him shudder underneath my touch.
“I n-need you. . .now,” he groaned, his head falling back, eyes shut, as my hands traveled lower on his stomach. Taking advantage of the fact that his eyes were currently closed, I slipped my fingers under the waist of his jeans, catching him completely off guard. He immediately sat forward, eyes flying open, a suggestive grin coming across his face. “Mmm, so that’s how you want to play, huh?”

Zayn stood from the chair, taking me with him, and roughly pushed me onto the table top. My file and all of its contents flew in different directions, papers littering the floor, but I was too preoccupied to notice. Without breaking our kiss, he reached between our bodies and skillfully unzipped the skirt, sliding it forcefully off my legs.
His hands didn’t leave for long though, returning quickly to the center of my legs. I couldn’t help myself from moaning as he pushed my thong aside and slid a finger inside me. “Fuck, Zayn,”
He pulled his lips away and I noted that they were plump and swollen from our make out session. “That’s right Rae, I want to hear you saying my name,” I felt myself get wetter just at the sound of his voice.
As he added a second finger, I found myself tugging at the buckle of his belt, nibbling lightly on his collarbone as I did so. He hissed at the sensation and I smirked against his skin, pleased to be getting such a positive reaction.
“Looks like you’re going to remember my tomorrow,” I told him with a slight giggle, touching the blooming red mark I had just left on his tan skin.
“How could I forget this?” With his unoccupied hand, he gestured at my body, his free hand settling on my back. When I realized what he wanted, I shrugged one of my bra straps off my shoulder and bit the corner of my lip, waiting for him to continue. He needed no further invitation.

All at once, Zayn Malik latched his lips onto mine, continued to pump his fingers into my dripping center, and unclasped my bra. This boy was talented.
By this time, I had managed to completely unbuckle his belt and slide his zipper down. So when he shifted his body even slightly, I watched his jeans slide down a bit, exposing a good portion of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. I pushed them down the rest of the way and he stepped easily out of them, adding another task to his daunting list of activities he could do all at the same time.
When Zayn removed his hand from between my legs, I almost moaned in agony. “What are you doing?” I questioned, catching his wrist before he could go too far.
“I’ve had enough of this,” his voice was unbelievably husky, the desire dripping off his tongue, “No more play time, sweetheart. I want you.
Without waiting for any assistance from him this time, I laid back on the table, my long hair spilling off the sides. I was stark naked now, despite the tiny pair of panties that still lingered on my hips, but I knew, just by the sound of his voice, that those wouldn’t be there much longer either.
“Prove it,”

As I suspected, Zayn’s hand instantly went to my waist, his thumbs hooking around the thong to slide it off. I imitated his motions, yanking his briefs down to expose his hard, pulsing member. It shot out from the elastic fabric, standing at full attention before me. I couldn’t help but stare, a very important question coming to mind.
Was that going to fit?
I allowed him to wrap my legs around his waist as he slid me across the table top towards him, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes darkening with lust. I nodded, frustrated that he wasted any time even asking that question. I needed him, bad.
He pushed into me slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his size. This, of course, was not my first time, but it may as well have been with how tight I was around him. But, as quickly as the pain had come, it subsided, leaving me with nothing but pure pleasure – and he wasn’t even halfway inside me yet.
“Harder,” I groaned, “Fuck me, hard, now,”

He didn’t hesitate, slamming the rest of his length into me eagerly, making the table shake. Realizing that my breasts had gotten very little attention throughout this whole encounter, I reached up for his neck, bringing his head down to my chest. He latched his lips onto my left breast, his hot tongue swirling around my hardened nipple. With each of his deep thrusts, his teeth grazed its sensitive tip, sending shockwaves across my skin.
“So tight – Mmmm,” Zayn grunted as he thrust particularly deep into me that time. My hands clawed at his back, needing to feel as much of his skin on mine as possible. I raised my hips off the table to match his rhythm, grinding myself against him. Another string of curse words tumbled from his lips and he literally had to pin my hips down to the table to get me to stop.
“Don’t. . .don’t do that,” he murmured, “It’s driving me crazy,”
“That’s the point,”
Almost angrily, Zayn lifted me clear off the table and carried me across the room until my back slammed against the cold wall. Now he was the one pulling my hips as close to him as he could, no longer thrusting, rather, grinding himself as deep into my core as possible.

“F-f-fuck,” the volume of my voice was creeping higher and higher by the second, “Zayn,”
“That’s right,” his hot breath was on my neck again, “I want to hear Rae. Say it babe. Scream it!
Bracing my hands against his shoulders, I lifted myself as high as I could until the tip of his cock slid out of me, glistening with a combination of both his juices and mine. Then, I dropped myself back down, repeating this motion as quickly and as many times as I could. Once he realized what I was trying to do, Zayn aided my motions by lifting me into the air by my bum, grinning as his fingers clamped tightly around it.
I was biting my lip now, trying to prevent any sound from escaping my lips. I knew that if any did, everyone on this floor would be able to hear me.
“Say it again,” he whispered fiercely, slamming me down onto his cock again and again.
The familiar fluttering sensation was beginning to develop in my stomach, and it was clear that I was slowly reaching my peak. Judging by Zayn’s thrusts, which were getting progressively sloppier, I knew he was too.

I meant for it to come out as a hushed moan, but his name fell from my lips as more of a strangled shriek instead, “Fuck! Zayn, god!” I could feel myself tighten around him, euphoria completely overcoming me. It didn’t take long before he was pushed over the edge too, deep, guttural sounds coming from his parted lips.
“Y-yes Rae, yes,” he released inside of me, his member pulsing until he had ridden out his orgasm to its entirety. Both our chests were heaving now, our breaths coming in short bursts. Zayn let his forehead fall against mine and he turned so his back was the one resting against the wall, letting it hold most of our weight.
“That was. . .” I breathed, my clit still pulsing slightly.
“Amazing,” he finished for me, softly bringing his lips to mine again. We remained there for a moment, not concerned with the fact that we were both naked and sweaty. “Thank you,” I heard him whisper.
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard, “Why on earth are you thanking me?” I questioned, baffled. “For the sex?” we both laughed at that one.
“No,” he was speaking against my lips, his voice causing a slight vibration on my skin. “For allowing me to have one of the sexiest experiences I've ever had with such a beautiful woman,”
I blushed profusely, “You’re welcome, Zayn,”
I had to admit, I did like the sound of his name coming from my mouth.


How did u like this one. My sister wrote this
~Alice & Lizzie




@i don't care
Your name is Effy? I love your name :)