5sos & 1d Smut

Ashton-Teacher's Pet

I know i said cute fluffy imagine but i was feeling kinky asf with a teacher Ash bc hell yes. 

Getting up early has never been anything I'm very good at. Even when I was little, I liked sleeping more than most kids. My mum has always given me credit for not waking up each and every night. Now when I'm at school, however, it's backfired and mornings are like a living hell.

But since school is something I'm very concerned about, I always just get up and get ready for whatever the day will throw at me. Whether it be an extra half hour of maths in the afternoon or having to run down to the bus to get to school in time for first period.

There are some classes I enjoy more than others. For example, I like maths more than I like physics, arts more than p.e. and on top of all that, the subject I like the most is English. Why? The teacher, mr. Irwin.

I know that crushing on your teacher is like, the worst thing ever, but I don't think I can take the blame in this case. Anyone would drool over the young, fresh-out-of-college teacher that always wears button up's with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. On some days he wears glasses, and fuck, would I want him to fuck me wearing them. He has long hair for a teacher, light brown locks that falls down his forhead and makes him look like some indie music guy that lives on a loft in New York. Since he's so young, he knows us students better than any other teacher at this school and he's pretty laid back when it comes to homework and such, which I think is the main reason people love him so much.

Today I have English second period, and I'm running late. I don't exactly know why, I was talking to a couple of friends and I don't think any of us heard the bell ring. When we noticed the time, they all made their way to their separate classes while I hurried towards the other end of the school, where mr. Irwin holds all his classes.

I stumble inside seven minutes late, my bag hanging loosely over one shoulder and I almost drop my textbook as I open the door. Mr. Irwin is writing something on the blackboard, and he frowns at me when I enter, I must've interrupted him mid-sentence.

"I'm sorry I'm late mr. Irwin," I pant. Mr. Irwin raises an eyebrow, his eyes scanning me up and down.

"This is the second time this week, miss [Y/L/N]," he points out.

I hang with my head."I know, I'm sorry mr. Irwin. It won't happen again." "I hope not," is all he replies.

"Have a seat and pay attention." I sigh and sit down in the middle of the classroom. It's like saying the wrong things in front of your crush, only ten times worse.

Mr. Irwin lets his attention go back to the blackboard, and after a minute or two, the slight tension that I created when I entered the room is gone. He goes back to his lame - so lame that you have to laugh - jokes and talking to us as if we're all his friends and not his students.

As the lesson goes on, I slide into my daydreaming state like I tend to do during English. I watch him as he makes gestures with his hands while explaining something about past sense and imagine what it'd be like to have his hands all over me, touching me in places I haven't had anyone touch in a long time. I bet his mouth could do amazing things, and he could probably pin me down to a bed easily with those muscles. Does he work out? He must.

I keep torturing myself in my mind, and I have to clench my legs together to not moan out. I've had crushes before, but this is ridiculous. I can't focus on anything while he's around, it's literally impossible.

When the bell rings and the class is over, I'm the first one to stand. I need to get out of here, I need to breathe new air. But that's not how it play out. "[Y/N], could you stay just for a minute?" Mr. Irwin says as I pass his desk.