Teach Me || Ethan Dolan (MATURE 18+)

1 - "C average"

Your POV

Your mind ran away with thoughts of Mr. Dolan. Anything you cared to think of, it was visualized in your brain. The idea of him slowly taking off his tie, wrapping it around your eyes, making you oblivious to what he would do to yo-

"Miss Y/l/n" someone says, clearing their throat right after.

Your hand slipped from underneath your chin and you gaze up at the culprit, seeing none other than Mr. Ethan Dolan. Master's degree in teaching. He is incredibly beautiful.

"Yes?" You speak, wondering why the hell you sat in front of the entire class. Your college english course was a full class. If you had sat in the back, you could've just disappeared into the background.

"Why are you not paying attention to my lecture on Shakespeare's poetry?"

You clear your throat and try to look around him at the projected notes, but his well-built body was in the way. "I-i don't know." Your stuttering was a tell-tale sign of nervousness for you. Always.

Mr. Dolan smirks, glancing down at your blank sheet of paper. He picks out a pen from his front pocket of his light blue button-down, clicking it open. He leans down, making you feel self-conscious. A few girls around you start whispering as Mr. Dolan writes on your notebook. You hear the click of the pen again and he looks up at you, his eyes cold and hard.

"Pay attention" he scowls, turning to walk back to his podium. You turn the notebook around, not being able to read his sloppy handwriting upside down. It read;

'Stay after class. Need to dicuss grades'

You immediately felt your stomach twist in anxiousness. You crossed your leg over the other, catching Mr. Dolan's attention. He leans against his podium. His arms over the top as his hands are interlocked.

"Now, as i was saying, Shakespeare was known for his plays such as; Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, as well as Hamlet. Can anyone name any others?" Mr. Dolan asks. His dark hazel eyes never left yours as he spoke. The girls surrounding you had their hands up, dying to answer any question he could ask. "Y/n?" He asks, an evil smirk threatening to break his icy features.

"Macbeth" you state correctly, knowing it was one of Shakespeare's better known plays.

"Good."

The class ends and you start to pack up your things slowly, knowing you'd be the last to leave anyway. You pick up your notebook and shove it into your bag, glancing at the door as it closes.

"Well then, Miss Y/l/n" Mr. Dolan says from his podium. It was nearly ten feet from your seat. "Please, come here" he asks.

You oblige, slinging your bag over your shoulder. When you reach his podium, he motions for you to come around the back, revealing the top of it to you. The podium was tilted toward him at all times. Now that you see what's on it, you wanted to laugh.

An old picture of two naked twins babies was at the top right corner. As well as graded papers with 'A's written in red ink.

"You seem to be struggling in my class" he says softly, pointing to the graded papers. That's when you recognize your name at the top.