One Direction Preferences from Tumblr

#14: He Helps You with Your Homework

#14: He Helps You with Your Homework - olamonster

Liam: You shut your book with a groan and let your head fall onto the coffee table. You were sitting on the floor, Indian style, between the table and the couch. Your physics book sat dauntingly in front of you and you stared at it with weary eyes. How were you supposed to study something that didn’t make sense in the first place? “What’s up, sweetheart?” Liam asked as he walked into the room, sliding onto the couch behind you, one leg on either side of your body. “Physics is dumb,” you grunted, throwing your head back to look at him. “It’s not so bad,” he smiled, reaching over you to reopen the book. “Just think of it in terms of everyday life. So, easy example. Laws of gravity. What does gravity do to you everyday?” he asked, hovering over you. “Keeps me on Earth?” you asked, hesitantly. Liam nodded, humming. “So, now just look at in a larger scale. It’s a force of attraction, see? So just look at it on a planetary basis and you’ll have the whole idea,” he smiled, leaning back into the couch. You twisted around to look at him. “Liam,” you began hesitantly. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but, you hate math. And science.” Liam chuckled a little, winking at you. “I don’t like it, sure, but I like airplanes and when I was little I wanted to understand them,” he grinned. “So I did. If you think about it in terms of what you like, it’s easier.” You stared at him, dumbfounded, before pushing yourself onto your knees, reaching up to kiss him. “You’re a genius,” you mumbled against his lips. He responded by kissing back harder.

Zayn: Frustrated, you bit your lip and dropped the dull pencil onto the counter. “Zayn,” you called. He peeked his head in the door way, a brilliant smile on his face, but it fell once he saw your head in your hands and the heard the long sigh you gave. “What’s wrong, babygirl?” he asked, coming behind you to rub your shoulders. You heaved another sigh in response, flimsily motioning to your math homework. “Calculus is stupid,” you muttered, rolling your head to the side to give Zayn better access to that side of your neck. His fingers dug into the knotted muscle, relieving tension. “Well,” he said, never stopping his motions. “Why don’t you tell me the problem and I’ll talk you through it,” he suggested, leaning to drop a kiss on your head. You explained to him the equation, pausing so he could soak in the whole thing. “So I factored out the three, right? But it-” Zayn chucked, cutting you off. “No, babe, you see if you factor that out,” he said, letting go of your shoulders and leaning over you to write on the legal pad in front of you, “you lose the value you need to do the square root, see?” He finished solving the problem and dropped the pencil, resuming his ministrations to your shoulders and neck. “Oh,” you murmured, looking at the paper. “That does make sense.” Zayn chuckled again and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

Louis: “Louis!” you called from the bedroom, where you were currently curled into the comfy armchair you had purchased from IKEA at the start of the school year. “Yeah?” He yelled back, not bothering to get up from the couch. “Make me some tea!” you shouted. You heard him laugh before getting up to shuffle to the bedroom. “What kind, darling?” he asked, poking his head into the room. You grinned at him, flashing the smile he loved best. “Yorkshire, of course. Can’t find it anywhere in the States, you know,” you grumbled. He laughed before turning to put the water on the stove, only to return minutes later, a curious expression coloring his face. “What’re you reading?” he asked, noting the small book you had in your hands. “The Importance of Being Earnest,” you mumbled, unhappy with the short play. Louis, however, broke into a grin wider than you had seen before. He strode to the center of the room and knelt, extending one arm towards you. “Ever since I first looked upon your wonderful and incomparable beauty, I have dared to love you wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly.” You stared at Louis with wide eyes before breaking out into a laugh, flipping pages until you reached where he quoted. “Um…I don’t think you should tell me that you love me wildly - oh, wait,” you grinned to yourself, stretching as you stood up and walked to where Louis was still kneeling. You knelt in front of him, so you were face to face. “I do think you should tell me that you love me,” you mumbled. “Wildly,” you kissed him. “Passionately.” Again. “Devotedly.” And again. “Hopelessly.” This time you didn’t pull away, letting your hands crumple against his chest as his found your waist. Needless to say, you soon forgot the play you were assigned to read in favor of Louis’ lips, soft against your own.

Niall: “Yo no sé,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead as the Spanish language evaded your understanding. Niall chuckled from across the room where he was devouring the apple pie you had slaved over this morning. “Niall,” you groaned again, pouting violently. “Do my Spanish homework.” He donned a mischievous expression before slowly setting the pie down and sauntering over to you, never letting his eyes leave yours. Just inches away, he began to speak. “No puedo ayudarte, mi amor. Yo soy demasiado distraído por tu belleza a pensar,” he purred. Your stomach fluttered nervously, hearing phrases that you could recognize - “my love,” and “your beauty.” You blinked rapidly and Niall smiled, half hiding a laugh. He moved even closer, his breath ghosting over your lips before he turned his head to the side, leaning close to your ear. “¿Puedo darte un beso?” he asked in a whisper. You didn’t care what he said - your brain was too fuzzy to think so you nodded, instinctively knowing he wanted a kiss - and then it happened, soft and smooth upon your own bitten lips, and you relaxed into him, arms wrapping around his neck. He pulled away far too soon, chuckling as he lent his forehead against yours. “Tú tienes que hacer tu tarea,” he murmured, pecking your forehead before walking away. You stared after him, shell-shocked, until your brain finally translated his last remark. “I still don’t understand it!” you whined, hearing Niall’s laugh and the clatter as his fork hit the plate of pie once again.

Harry: “Richard the Lionheart,” he said blandly, reading the name off of the white index card. Harry was sitting next to you, at an angle, so you couldn’t see the cards, but close to enough to pat your leg or kiss your cheek if he felt the urge. He was helping you study for your AP World exam by quizzing you with the hundreds of flashcards you had spent all year making. “Crusades, against Saladin,” you said, just as bored. He sighed as he flicked to the next card. “Wars of the Roses.” You bit your lip in concentration. You knew this. You learned about this at the end of last semester - but nothing else came to mind. “I know it’s England,” you said slowly, looking up at him, “but I can’t recall anything else.” You let your head fall back into your hands. There was no way you were going to pass the exam if you couldn’t remember a series of wars. Unexpectedly, tears begin to prick at your eyes before you felt Harry’s palm make calming circles on your upper back. “Hey, it’s alright,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “It was a dynastic war. Between two branches of the House of Plantagenet - Lancaster and York. Just royalty issues. It probably wont even be on the exam,” he laughed, lips ghosting over your hair. “No need to get worked up, love.” You sighed and shook your head. “It’s not that,” you mumbled, wiping the few tears that escaped. “I just - what if I can’t remember the important stuff? The idea that I’m forgetting things - I need to pass this exam,” you swallowed roughly. Harry sighed and stood up, offering you a hand. “I have a better idea, then,” he grinned at you. You raised an eyebrow as he lifted you up, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Let’s make cookies and decorate them with stuff from your flashcards. You’ll remember that then, hmm?” he teased, kissing your nose