H.S. Smut : Short Stories

Mr.Styles

My fingers type quickly at my laptop, trying to finish up my paper that's due tomorrow at midnight. I've always been one to procrastinate everything till the last minute. But this history paper is going to be the fucking death of me.

I curse as I slam my laptop shut, not being able to finish the notes I need to take along with finishing the paper. I had missed 3 days of class due to being ill and now I'm suffering, without the proper notes.

I open my laptop back up, biting at my finger as I open my email, clicking on Mr.Styles and it pops up a new email. I type slowly:

Hello Mr.Styles,

Im sorry to bother you this late at night. But I have missed 3 days of class and was wondering if there was any way I could get those notes I need for my paper? I know your rule about missing class but I was ill, truly. I will do anything for those notes, I just need to pass this class. Please don't be mad :)

I click send and shut my laptop again. He is so hot. Every girl in school demanded his attention. They gawked over him...so did I. But I didn't make mine obvious. Other girls wore tight, revealing clothing...even some trying to hit on him but he would always turn them down. My friend even once tried asking him on a date, sorta as a joke and he chuckled at her. I don't think that's very professional of either of us. His words perfect sounding in my mind.

My laptop dings, jerking me from my thoughts. I open it, surprised to see he had replied this late.

Hello Miss Bradley,

I hope you are feeling better. I will help you out after class tomorrow. Hang around after the bell rings to end the day and we can talk. I appreciate you reaching out. We don't want you to fail. Have a nice night and get some good rest.

I blush at his caring words. Not that they actually mean anything more than helping out a student but I've had a crush on him all year. This week ending my 4 years of torture. He had only started teaching this past year, every day wearing something that made my heart flutter. He was the best dressed teacher...and the best looking by far. He was young, this being his first teaching job. But he was so smart and didn't let any of us only a few years younger than him pick on him for his age. He would always tell us he was wise, and that was better than being smart.

My eyes open to the sound of my alarm blaring and I groan, rolling out of bed, literally. I tople to the floor, groaning as I thud on the wood. I stand, stretching my aching body before getting myself ready for class. I only have English and History today. It's already 11:48 and my class starts at noon. I don't have time for lunch. Fuck.

I grab my things before running out of my dorm. The sunlight beaming on my skin, the heat making me feel so happy. I loved the summer. We had just gotten out of winter so I've been taking full advantage of this hot weather, wearing shorts as often as I could. But today I decided on a simple floral dress I hadn't worn since last summer. It was tight around my waist and flaired out below and stopped about mid-thigh. My breasts look amazing in this dress...almost hoping Mr.Styles would notice.

My English class finishes around 2 and I stand, my stomach letting out a large growl. I groan, grabbing my things and jogging to the Cafe that's on campus. A long line is in front of me and I check the time. I have 40 minutes before my history class. I should have plenty of time.

When I get to order I have 10 minutes before I have to get to class. I quickly order a salad and two lattes...hoping the extra coffee would please Mr.Styles enough to not give me a tardy. I needed some food.