Harrison Osterfield And Co. Imagines

Borrowed T.H

prof!Tom

Warnings: making out, terrible jokes, fluff, trashy writing

"Tom", you whispered as your boyfriend slash professor kissed your neck and marking you up very well. You had gone over to his apartment to talk about increasing your marks but Tom understood the complete opposite of it, and that is how you found yourself on his couch, under him. He hummed against your skin not being deterred from his goal.

"I need to talk to you about my marks." You sighed as he began his work at your sweet spot.

"I'm already working on it love." He chuckled, his soft lips not leaving your skin.

"I meant my grades." You said a bit of seriousness in your tone, and then he finally looked at you, he curls falling on his forehead as you ran your hand through them and looking into his equally soft brown orbs. "Well, you get an A grade for being such a pretty girl." He kissed your crimson cheek.

"Tom." You warned.

"Don't worry about it darling," he said in a heavy British accent, "I will see to it later, for now just let me spend some time with my girl." He smirked and got back to littering hickeys all over your neck and collarbone.

--

The next morning you woke up snuggled into Tom's arms, reaching out for your phone you checked the time and realized you're gonna be late for your first class. You let yourself out of the brunet's strong grip and rushed to the bathroom, upon reaching there you took a look of yourself in the mirror and saw your neck and collarbone covered with hickeys and began to panic as you had to head out of the door in fifteen minutes. "Tom!" You called out, heading back to where the boy was sleeping soundly and stood in front of his sleeping figure with your hands on your hips, "Tom wake up!" You called out again.

He squinted and reached for your hand and kissing your knuckles, "Morning to you too love."

"Look what you've done!" You huffed, "I have to leave in fifteen minutes and I cannot leave looking like this!"

"But you look so pretty!" He pouted, secretly proud of his work.

"Do you have any concealer?" You asked returning to the bathroom and once again taking a look at the bruises.

"Yeah, it's right next to nail polish in the cabinet." He joked.

"Hilarious." You deadpanned, "What am I gonna do Tom?"

"Ooh I have an idea!" He exclaimed and went to his room, moments later he came with his black turtle neck in his hand, "Hear you can wear this." He handed you the shirt.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," He reassured, "You do look nice in my clothes." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. Tom was right, you did look nice his clothes.

Your day went on as usual, boring classes and tons of assignments to be submitted, but all of it was worth it because it was the last class of the day and it was Tom's. He entered the class all the girls began to swoon over how his biceps looked in his white tee, but he didn't pay attention to any of them; his eyes meeting only yours as he gave you a soft smile, admiring how you looked in his shirt. The bell rang signally that class was over, as the rest of the students began to move out Tom called out to you, "Miss Y/l/n, would you mind meeting me in my office." You nodded.

"Ooh someone's in trouble!" Your friend teased you. Reaching his office you knocked and waited for him to open the door, the door swung open and he roughly pulled you in and the checked the hallway for any passerby's. Slamming the door shut he pulled you closer by your waist, "You have no idea what you have been doing to be all day looking so hot in that." He whispered seductively in your ear followed by his soft lips meeting yours. You were in for a long time.