|5SOS imagines|

tutor - luke

what's up bitches im back nothings happened except boys are dicks and ive gained weight whoopsy also this is the shittiest cringiest cliche shit ever fuck

fit - slang, mainly used in england, (essex/London), to describe a girl/boy who is deffo a 10/10

-

"right, luke, that's the final straw. come and sit here, please."

you were sat in english class, scribbling down whatever you needed to. you didn't have anyone sitting next to you, but you liked it that way. you had your own space, and didn't have to share anything with anyone else.

that was until luke hemmings decided to talk out of turn.

you scooted your chair as far to the wall as you could so you weren't so close to him as he smoothly sat down in the chair, legs turned out. he threw his english book down onto the table and chucked his bag next to himself.

he probably knew your name but that was about it. you had him on social media, he had you on there too - that was all.

his golden curly locks that seemed to be turning darker, his slightly tanned skin and the scent of expensive aftershave radiated off of his uniform; his tie was lazily sling around the collar of his white school shirt.

luke turned slightly away from you, facing the rest of the classroom. of course he wasn't interested in you.

-

"but you guys don't understand!" you almost yelled at your best friends, shane, garrett, ryland, andrew and morgan across the lunch table. "he sat next to me!"

"he didn't have a choice, idiot. mr smith forced him to sit there because he wouldn't shut his gob." ryland sighed, taking a sip from his drink.

"he's really fit." you sigh.

"yeah - and he's an arsehole." morgan chimes in.

"yeah, (y/n), i agree with morgan, he's a prick." shane piped up.

"no he's not! come on. you don't know him." you argue back.

-

"alright, (y/n)?" luke sighed as he slid down into his chair, walking into class five minutes late. the teacher didn't seem to care, and carried on teaching his lesson.

"huh?" you squeak out quietly, opening your work book and flicking to a recent clean page.

"i said hi, that's all." he mumbled, immediately turning back round to one of his best friends, calum.

"oi, calum. what's the answer?"

"look, you can copy my book-" you almost clap your hands over your mouth as you realised what you said.

"ah, thanks (y/n). you better be right, though. can't be getting any more shitty grades."

"it's better to have done the work than nothing at all, though." you say, trying to prove a point.

"ah, true. but im trying to actually do good, you know. like everyone sees me as this fuckboy, popular guy who causes all the havoc in class. and i want them to know im actually useful and worth something - intelligence could define me in some way i suppose. even though im shit at everything."

you stayed silent, shocked - he had just simply opened up to you, right there and then.

"hey - intelligence doesn't define you. i might be top class in english but im in the average class for maths and come on, how shit am i at that? whenever sir asks me the answer i always say i don't know, which is true. because i don't know shit." you smile back at him, trying to relate in a sense to make him feel better.

"here - i have an idea - why don't i help you with maths when you need it, and you help me with english?"