Daddy Styles

Meet your daddy...

(Y/n )=yourname

(y/ln)=your last name

"what did you do to deserve detention?" a guy next to me in a room full of oddly lined desks asks.

"i didn't do anything. my math grade is shit." i say. the cool-warm breeze of a mild start to the summer drifts onto my bare kness through the ripped holes of my jeans.

"so, you're getting a tutor?" he scrunches his eyebrows in curiosity.

"my mom is making me do it. staying in school anymore than i have too is not my idea of a perfect friday night."

"where is your tutor then?"

"he's supposed to-" in mid sentance i stop. my heart stops. i think the world even stopped moving. there stood a man with smooth brunet hair to his shoulders in soft waves, burning green eyes so intense when we looked at each other i thought he had lasers for eyes, i observe the corners of his lips give me a grin. this grin was one i never recived because it was not friendly... it was sexy.

"I'm out for today...good luck on your math thing." the boy parts his way from next to me to the door. his hour of torture was up while mine was just begining.

"hello, my name is harry styles and I'm here to tutor (y/n)." he tells the teacher at at the helm of the room.

"ahh yes...mrs.(y/ln) has been expecting you mr.styles." the teacher says like he's just as bored as all the students when they came to school.

"if you don't mind, i would like to work with just her in the room with me. you know...to make her feel less nervous." his eyes look up to mine putting sexuality into his what should be an innocent sentence, but the grin he keeps on his face says otherwise i wasn't nervous until he started to speak. i also take in notice that he's not from the united states, when he speaks his voice is a capivating deep British accent. i don't mean to sound like very american, but i think i would have a foreign love affair with him. i am eighteen so it wasn't illegal and he looked to be twenty-one something...but that's just me daydreaming again. no guy that hot would come near a girl as myself without being paid to do so.

"(y/n)?" he askes standing in front of me.

i shake my head and look up at him blushing "y-yes?" my voice comes out high pitched with a touch of shy. i look behind him to see we were alone in the room.

"are you ready for your lesson?" he looks at me in a way i have never seen before. deep in his eyes saw what looked like envy, but what was he envying? he probably walked by a cheerleader in the hallway coming from practice and wants to work with me as fast as he can so he can go after her.

"yes, I'll get my book..." i whisper nervous. if i knew tutors were this hot i would fail all my classes to stay all night with him. when i pull out my math book from my backpack i drop it on the floor making me jump i hear him laugh in a deep sexy tone. i feel the room become a hundred degrees and i was the one who started to envy him...well even more now.

i have to admit, I'm not the type of gal to sleep around or have sexual feelings for people, but from the moment he put his brown boot through the door of the classroom i wanted to rip his clothes off. he picked up my math book for me handing it to me

"I'm mr.styles in case you already forgot." he winks as i take my book.

"i didn't forget and thank you." i blush so deep it hurts.

"what are you struggling with?" he pulls a chair next to me. i feel his soft baby blue button down shirt against my shoulder.

"finding the sides of tringles, squares, all the shapes that require the finding of their sides." i look at him. the space between us is almost not space at all with his breath tickling my lips.