Inside My Teacher's Eyes ~ Ten-Shot

Part 2

“See you tomorrow!” you yelled hastily running out of the class. Reading the text for the second time: meet me by my locker in 2. You ran through the empty hallways, feeling all too familiar. You skidded to a halt at the beginning of the locker section, looking for 309. You couldn’t be late. You wouldn’t. There he was, standing cross-legged, leaning against the cold metal.

“Took you long enough,” he spat.

“I know. I’m sorry-“ you said before he cut you off. Taking his rough hands, he chopped your words short, as he grabbed your face in his hands, holding you tightly. He pushed his chapped lips against yours, making you shudder. You hated the feeling he gave you. The fear, the anger, the abuse…He started off as some sweet, romantic boyfriend who bought you bouquets, and took you on late night serenades. Somewhere in the mix, that all changed. He became vulgar, handling you ungraciously with his calloused palms. You wanted to break up with him so badly, but you were scared out of your wits in what unnerved thing he would do to you then. He looked into your eyes, burning you with his glare. It was nothing compared to Mr. Styles, soft, green orbs that made you melt right out of your panties. He stared at you with lust, and domination.

“Let’s do it,” he snarled into your ear as he nipped at it.

“What?!” you shot back. Without a word, he snuck his hands to the bottom of your tanktop. Silently slipping it upwards, he smirked. “Hunter stop!” you whisper-yelled to him slapping his hands and putting you shirt back down. You didn’t want to cause a disturbance. It would be way too embarrassing if someone caught you like this.

“Fine. If you don’t want it off, I’m going in,” he said with a devious grin on his face. His hands shot up your shirt reaching for your boobs. Before you could react, his fingers knitted inside your bra, fingering with your nipples.

“Hunter-“ you tried helplessly, before he shut you out with a forced kiss.

“Don’t talk,” he ordered harshly. You yelped in pain, as he grabbed a hold of your left boob, squeezing it as hard as he could. He slammed you up against the locker, causing your head to lash back. You groaned, but not in pleasure. He’s always been pushy, with kissing, and touching, but never has he tried going all the way like this. Keeping one hand locked inside your bra, massaging your left boob, he moved his other to the zipper of your skinny jeans. He ripped it down, nearly pulling the zipper right off. His hand didn’t hesitate to find your underwear, and slide inside without permission. Everyone has already left for either afterschool sports, or home. You knew that the teachers were still all probably be here and if you just yelled loud enough, one of them could come out here and rescue you from this man-whore. But you didn’t have to. You saw two arms pry Hunter’s from your body, throwing him hard against the ground. You saw Hunter struggle to pick himself up, to go in for a fight. But the two arms pushed him away easily.

“Leave! Now!” you heard growling from beside you. The hero rushed to your side, as you slid down the side of the lockers.

“Mr. Styles,” you breathed closing your eyes and reliving the moment.

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked as you choked back the tears. Tears of pity, tears of pain, tears of regret. “Just go!” you cried out, echoing. You thought you heard his footsteps walking away, hurting your heart just a little more. But you were wrong. Instead you felt a discreet arm wrap itself around your shoulder.