One Direction and Zayn Mailk Preferencesツ

He's Your Teacher. (5/5) Part 1

Niall: You silently walked through the hallways of the crowded school. Watching the jungle of insecure teenagers stumble from class to class. You had a break for about another hour. A very muscular school jock came bounding up to you, receiving the throw of a lofted football. You didn't notice him running towards you until he knocked you off your feet. You swore to yourself as he ran away with his crew laughing. You groaned and headed down the slick floors. You made a sudden left turn pushing on the bright yellow door. "Niall-" you called rushing into the tiny room to a surprise, "-uh Mr. Horan." You corrected yourself to see the group of students poised at their desks. They were all deep in thought typing away at their school laptops. Niall's eyes widened surprised to see your presence. You slowly tiptoed backwards ready to retreat when Niall stopped you with his eyes. He stared directly at you, making you melt into your winter boots. He smiled slightly. but secretly before looking back at his class. Dozens of faces now recognizing you and all giving you the same glare. Niall looked at them, then back at you. "Y/N! Just the girl I was looking for. I need to discuss that poem of yours with you. Would you like to step out in the hallway with me for a minute?" he asked with some on the spot thinking. You quickly caught on, nodding your head. He glanced at his class and said, "I'll be just a minute. Stick to your writing, and if I hear one peep I'm making you all right another one, is that clear?" You smiled. It turns you on, whenever you heard Niall being stern. Especially with his students, he was so manly and demanding, you liked it. He lead you outside away from the class. He scanned the hallway looking for stragglers. He quickly took you by your hands, pushing you up against the lockers. "Y/N..." he whispered harshly in your left ear. You moaned at the sudden touch to your skin. "Niall..." you said back in the same tone. He didn't let you say a word, shutting down your lips with his. He moved them up and down feeling your body with it. At that point you didn't care if he was your teacher, or if anyone was watching, you just cared at him. "What was that poem you were talking about again?" you asked smirking.

Zayn: "Okay so you need to all read chapters 8-12 tonight, along with doing a reflection for each," he said connecting his eyes with you, "Is that clear?" The room was silent, except for the occasional groans from the mass of homework he had just assigned. "Is that clear?" he boomed again, his voice rising. Everyone took back in the seats nodding, "Yes Mr. Malik." You mumbled along, slumping in your seat. "Y/N," he asked cross, "Is that clear?" You looked around to see if he was talking to you, and he was. You gave him an odd look. What was he doing? "Y/N," he asked again harshly. You nodded a bit frightened. "Good," he said quickly moving on. The piercing sound of the school bell above you, dismissed the class. You packed your things, as slow as possible. You made sure the others around you left the classroom before you got up. You walked over to his desk, dropping your bags again. "What was that for?" you asked suddenly. He stopped in mid-air as he erased the white board. "What are you talking about?" he charged back, wiping away the green marks of Shakespeare's quotes. "Why'd you pick on me like that?" you asked sitting down on the wooden chair in front of his desk. "Oh," he said sitting on the side, "About that..." "Yeah. About that..." you said crossing your arms offended. "I'm sorry. I needed to do that. I can't have them thinking that we have anything going on, anything," he repeated in a hushed tone. You looked around. "Zayn," you whispered, "There's no one here." "Yeah, but what if someone can hear us from outside or something?" he asked. "Zayn. You need to calm down," you said taking his hand in yours. He smiled slightly. "Okay," he said still whispering, "I'm sorry." "It's fine," you mumbled, "But you're right. We need to do something about this." "About what," he asked leaning closer to you, breathing heavily. "About this," you said bluntly. "About this?" he asked pretending to still be confused. You looked into his sober eyes, kissing his lips passionately. Nearly kicking him from under the desk, you moved in closer, working with your tongue. You washed away his confusion with the tip of your tongue, playing with the inside of your mouth he did the same. "About that," you replied out of breath. He sighed. "I know," he replied not taking his hands off of yours.