history lesson part 3

History Lessons Part 3

Originally posted by luekhemmings

a/n: thank you all so much for the support of this little series, your messages make my day brighter :-)

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It was now two weeks since the last time you’d been sexual with Luke. The promise you’d made him the last time was more and more intriguing to you the more time you spent thinking about it. Luke would be easy to teach; he was already great at everything else and you’d only taught him once. He knew where to place his hands and when to kiss you properly, and even when you were about to fall apart underneath him.

Every time your eyes met Luke’s you thought about the way he looked when he came for you. When he was in that state, the darkness outshone the light blue of most of his eyes, and it was a marvelous sight, one you wanted to see as often as you possibly could. Even sitting in class with Luke was hard, all you could think about was the way he kissed or the way he tasted when you had your lips wrapped around him.

Little did you know, though — Luke was having these exact same thoughts about you.

Once or twice in class he’d gotten completely dazed in class, thinking of your subtle scent and the way your hands always knew where to touch him to make him go crazy with desire. Once or twice he’d accidentally gotten hard in class thinking about you and your activities of late. It had been too long since they’d happened, and Luke was about to make a move. In class, it was approaching the mid-semester exam, and that meant you’d be willing to study with Luke, and he decided he’d make his move then.

Sure enough, a few days before the final, Luke received a text from you inviting him over to study for the final. You’d ended the text with a wink face, hoping Luke would pick up on your suggestion. He did; and the thought made him a little crazy. He took a collective sigh and redressed, in his usual attire for when he hing out with you — since you’d admitted to liking it a lot more than his school clothes. It wasn’t his fault though, his mom made him dress that way, and sometimes he resented her for it.

Luke finished up the rest of his homework and you did the same thing at your house. Luckily, it was a Friday, and you were home alone for the evening. Your parents were out at a concert and your siblings were at their friends’ houses. Luke didn’t know that fact yet, but you had a feeling he’d be excited about that fact. You were sitting on your bed, same as always, when you heard the doorbell ring. You rushed downstairs in your socks, sliding slightly on the hardwood. You caught yourself on the door and opened it to Luke, who was currently sopping wet because of the rain.

“Luke! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize it was raining!” you exclaimed, and Luke smiled his million-dollar smile that you secretly fell in love with more every time you saw it. You ushered him inside, watching as he removed his shoes and looked around your home.

“Where is everyone, Y/N?” Luke enquired, and it brought a slight smile to your lips.

“We’re alone, Luke…that means you can scream my name as loud as you want when I make you come later,” you said, and Luke’s eyes darkened under your constant gaze.

He opened and closed his mouth many times, almost like his brain was trying to process the words you’d just said. He took a step closer to you, and placed his hand on your hip. He pulled you closer to him, a whoosh of breath falling from your lips in his change in attitude and demeanor. You didn’t like where this was going so soon, so you placed your pointer finger on Luke’s lips and pantomimed “shhhh”.

“Please don’t say things like that, Y/N. It makes me h-hard,” Luke stuttered from around your finger. You merely smirked and pulled him by the hand up the stairs.

“Cmon, Lukey. Let’s go study. That’s what you’re here for, right?” you taunted Luke, and you heard him dramatically sigh behind you. You bent over to pick up your backpack when you were in your room, and Luke audibly groaned. Your shorts were a bit short and apparently you gave Luke a little show when you were retrieving your backpack. He bit the inside of his cheek to avoid saying anything that he might regret later.

You opened your book on your bed, and Luke went about reviewing with you. He did it the same way he always did, quickly but so that you understood it. He started at the beginning of the book and hit the important parts of every chapter; things that would likely be on the exam. He asked you questions that you answered, but after a while, neither of you could deny the building sexual tension in the room. You were wearing shorts and Luke’s skin-tight jeans were getting tighter with every glance he took in your direction. Currently, your lips were wrapped around the barrel of your pen, and with every glance you sent Luke, the gazes were turning longer until neither of you had any intent of studying about the House of Tudors.

“Y/N, a-are you thinking about what I’m thinking about?” Luke slowly blinked and took his eyes away from yours.

“Well, Luke…that depends. What’re you thinking about?” you drew his eyes back to yours and sucked on the end of your pen teasingly.

“I-I’m thinking about you, Y/N. What you told me last time I was here…” He drug out the end of the sentence and stared at your wall in front of him. There it was. Those were the words that you wanted to hear from Luke’s lips. With that, you leaned over and shut your book on your bed, and slid into the floor with Luke, straddling his hips and catching him by surprise.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this moment since you left my room the last time, Luke. The way you looked when you came for me, and the way you said my name, like it was the last word you were ever going to speak. I want that again, but I want more. I want you to make love to me, Luke.” your lips were at his neck, tracing gentle patterns with your lips and tongue. He shifted to look into your eyes.

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“History lessons” - h.s. Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

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For two weeks, Harry came around to the mansion and you taught him about the daily ongoings of the Miracle of Dunkirk. You spent time together in the classroom where you played war propaganda for him that he would have seen as a young man during that time commanding that he enlist in the army. A whole day was spent out in the garden where the two of you looked through old newspapers clippings from reporters talking about Dunkirk and read interviews with Winston Churchill as well.

And then came the next Monday, Harry didn’t show up for lessons. You couldn’t lie to yourself that you were disappointed. Even Jonas noticed the lacking presence of the curly haired lad and mentioned how the house seemed quieter without him. Tuesday rolled around and Harry still hadn’t shown up, prompting you to realize that without Harry’s number or any form of communication, you had no idea what was going on in his life and if he was okay. 

For all of Tuesday, you allowed the idea to fester that something horrible had happened to Harry and he would never show up on your doorstep again. You went to bed without dinner as you poured over your journals and books and tried to lose yourself in your studies, welcoming the distraction. 

So when Harry knocked on the door Wednesday, you flew down the stairs, attempting not to slip up and trip over your Keds as you pushed Jonas aside and flung the door open, propelling yourself into Harry’s unsuspecting arms. 

“Oh my -” 

“Where have you been?!” you cried, “You oof!” You hit his chest as Harry stared at you rather startled, his eyes wide and his arms still loosely holding onto your hips as you glared at him. “You go missing for two days and we have no way of - give me your phone!” you demanded, extending your arm as Harry fumbled in his pocket to hand you his phone. 

He watched as you angrily typed into his phone, a frustrated look on your face as Jonas stared smugly on in the background, peeling an orange and leaning against the doorframe. The professor was wheeling in at the sound of your calamity and was curiously watching the interaction with a smug expression as well. 

You slammed the phone back into his hand, pointing at him with a glare as you said, “I’ve input my number, the house’s number, the professor’s office, Jonas’s phone number -”

“Hey -” Jonas interjected.

“And my email if you ever decide to just not show up again.”

Harry couldn’t help but considering how adorable you looked when you were all flustered, your nose all scrunched up and forehead wrinkled as you blew your hair out of your face and marched into the house.

“I didn’t know these lessons were a daily set thing,” Harry mumbled as Jonas patted him on the back, offering him a slice of orange which Harry declined because he didn’t quite trust Jonas yet at this point.

“They’re not, Mr. Styles,” the professor smiled softly, “But it seems our Miss Y/N has gotten keenly attached to the idea of having someone in this house she can converse with that isn’t triple her age.”

“Hey!” Jonas interjected again, rolling his eyes as the professor waved him off. Harry slouched slightly, feeling awful for worrying you as he watched you sort through papers angrily as you stood in the classroom and attempted to ignore him the best you could. 

“She’s a strong one,” the professor said, wheeling up close to Harry as Harry continued to admire you from a distance, “But she’s much more loving and compassionate than she likes to pretend.”

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