Harry Styles Smut

{4} Mr Styles

four: over the school year you've developed a crush on your hot english teacher.

TW - underage, unprotected sex (please remember this is purely fiction and very farfetched, don't have sex with your teachers... especially unprotected sex)!!!

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I stare at the C- with furrowed eyebrows, a storm forming within my stomach and causing a painful cramp. Frustration overpowering my emotions. How did I get a C-? I always do so much better in English, what was different this time?

I push the test to the side and focus on what Mr Styles is talking about at the front of the classroom. "I'm very proud of everyone in this class, you all did exceptionally well and I couldn't be happier. That said, if anyone would like some guidance because they were expecting a higher grade and believe they deserve it - please don't hesitate to talk to me after class"

It may be my imagination but I swear as he says the last sentence his eyes land on me and stay for a beat too long. Maybe he has something he wants to say to me? I furrow my eyebrows in thought as the bell rings and people begin packing up, Mr Styles sending them a pointed look before laughing and dismissing us. I quickly pack my bag with my pencil case, waterbottle and textbook - keeping my test out to hand to Mr Styles incase he wants to read it again or point out any mistakes.

I stand up slowly and watch as a few other pupils begin talking to him, slinging my bag over my shoulder and watching as some of them converse his weekend plans and some want feedback on their assessment. He quickly gets through the minimal queue until its just me stood, slightly insecure, with the failure called my assignment tucked to my body.

"Hey, y/n, everything okay? Did you want to discuss your grade?" He asks in a friendly tone as he busies himself with some paperstacking, pulling out draws to tuck away unused sheets of paper and ditch scrap paper.

"Uh, yeah, actually I was wondering what I did wrong. English is usually my strongest subject and my grade has plumetted because of this test result, I genuinely felt confident when writing it," I explain with a polite tone, not wanting to sound rude in any way - he's my favourite teacher and I feel as if I could be one of his favourite students, he normally praises my work - not grades me badly.

The look that crosses his face is hard to decipher when he looks up at me, green eyes swirling with... success? "Of course, grab a chair and sit here," he gestures to the space next to him, "I'll take another look at it and give you some feedback"

I nod, placing the sheets on his desk in front of him and setting my bag down so it leans against the oak wood. I turn and pluck the closest blue plastic chair from behind its desk, quickly slotting it next to him and plopping into it with grace. He turns the page to my essay after reading through the grade table on the front page that shows where I gained marks and lost others, his eyes skim over the words that flow so easily together.

I don't want to brag but I've always been good at story writing so I honestly thought I smashed this test out the park, I used writing techniques we haven't even learnt about yet and words half the class wouldn't know the meaning of.

When he's finished reading through it, the silence thick and constricting my throat due to the musky smell wafting into my senses, he smells
good - like vanilla and honey and roses and woody notes. The smell is intoxicating and I feel myself inhale more often than necessary, getting drunk on the sweet and sexy scent he effortlessly provides. He exhales a long breath and turns to face me, setting my paper on the desk after flicking back to the first page.

"Y/n, there's nothing wrong with your essay," he starts making me furrow my brows in confusion. "Your terminology and use of descriptive techniques are extraordinary. I believe this is your best work yet," he continues when he sees my perplexed expression, licking his lips between sentences in a teasing manner - or are they just chapped from dehydration? It's been a hot week.