He's Your Teacher (AU)
Zayn: After English, you stuff everything back into your bag quickly, anxious for lunch. “(Y/N)?” You glance up, meeting the dark eyes of your teacher. He was the kind of distractingly gorgeous that made girls catch their breaths, and you were no different, no matter how much you’d like to think differently. “Can I…?” For once, Mr. Malik let down his professional, suave appearance, and you thought he sounded rather unsure of himself. “Have a word?” Your heart immediately started hammering against your ribs, but you managed to choke out a ‘sure!’ “I have no doubt that you know the answers, but you never actually pay attention in class.” Your face flushes, and you break eye contact with him to stare down at the linoleum floor instead. “Sorry sir,” you mumble, making a mental note to doodle less in your notebooks and concentrate more on the lesson next time. “Is there anything distracting you?” Mr. Malik loosens his tie, showing a bit more of his beautifully carved collarbones. Just you, you wanted to say.
Louis: "I need feeling! I need chemistry!” your drama teacher calls from the front row of chairs. You take in a deep breath, before turning to face your co-star once more. “Wait, wait,” Mr. Tomlinson interrupts, hoisting himself onstage. His perfectly gelled hair gleamed under the lights and he flashes you a stunning smile. “(Y/N), you’re already perfect.” At that, you blush, feeling a sense of satisfaction course through your veins. “But Jeffrey,” he starts, turning away from you. “Romeo is supposed to be desperately in love with Juliet, not merely attracted to her.” Mr. Tomlinson shoos him away and stands in Jeff’s spot instead. He clears his throat, giving you a quick wink before reciting the lines that you had already memorized from Romeo’s script. “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!” You freeze as he reaches out, caressing your cheek lightly with his fingers. Leaning closer, he whispers, “Now, this is chemistry.”
Liam: You pant hard, doubling over in order to catch your breath. “Just one more lap!” your coach says, encouragingly, practically shoving his stopwatch into your face. You glance up to meet his amused eyes. He was attractive, to say the least. Especially now, when the sun was glinting off his brown hair, making it gleam with a golden shine. “Push yourself!” he continues, pushing you from behind. “I already ran three laps!” you protest, wiping sweat off of your forehead. “Come on, (Y/N), you’re fit enough,” Coach Payne says, and cuts himself off abruptly. Your mouth falls open, and for a moment you wondered if you actually heard him correctly. “That didn’t come out right,” he chuckles, but you notice a slight tremor to his voice. “You think I’m fit?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at the edges of your lips. He runs a hand through his hair, uncertainly. “What I mean was, um, I think you’re very, er, athletic…” he trails off, silently cursing his own slip up.
Harry: “Sir?” Mr. Styles runs a tongue along his pink lips before glancing up at your flushed face. You hesitated, totally forgetting everything that had been on your mind. His dark brown curls were pushed back from his forehead and his dimples indented his cheeks as he smiled curiously. “Can I help you?” “I was absent Monday,” you explained, biting the inside on your cheeks. “So…I was wondering if you could go over the lesson?” Your voice rises hopefully in the end. Ok, so you did kind of need more help with conics and stuff, but it was also a great opportunity to spend more time with your favorite teacher…alone. Mr. Styles was already leaving his seat, scrambling around for a pen. “So basically,” he begins, and you melt inside as he props himself next to you, drawing out a hyperbola. A small gasp leaves your mouth as his pen accidentally drops into your lap. “Whoops,” he laughs, reaching down to pick it up again. His long finger brushes your thighs lightly, causing an unexpected tingle to run up your spine. “Sorry,” he murmurs under his breath, but he didn’t really sound sorry at all.
Niall: “Just go ask him,” your best friend advises, giving you a small push toward Mr. Horan’s desk. Your face heats up uncomfortably as you catch a glimpse of his styled blond hair. “You’re like, his favorite student so I’m pretty sure he’s going to let you retake one crap test.” Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, you approach his desk shyly. “Um, mister…” Another wave of embarrassment goes through you when he looks up from his papers. “I just wanted to ask if I can retake the chapter 6 test,” you finish in a rush. “I don’t know what happened that day, but it definitely wasn’t my best effo—“ Mr. Horan cuts you off with a wry smile. “Oh that,” he says, and you detected a note of amusement in his voice. He really was beautiful with his crinkling blue eyes and brilliant smile. Your heart ached. “Whenever you’d like. I’m always available.” Your lips part in surprise. Noticing your pause, he blinks, thinking over his words. “You know what I mean right?” You nod, though still confused. Particularly when he gives you a wink.