@jjohnsonftjcade
As you took your seat in yet another boring class, you felt someone nudge your shoulder. You straighten your posture and watch as Isaac Lahey walks into your classroom. "Hello, everyone." He sets his bag on the teacher's desk. You lock eyes with him and bite your lip, he holds back a smile. You enjoyed the days he was teaching instead of your professor. Nobody knew you were dating, which made it especially exciting. You sat through the, painfully long, 2 hours and finally, the class was dismissed. You watch everyone file out of the lecture hall before making your way to the front. "Mr. Lahey, it was a pleasure to have you as my professor today." You sit on the corner of his desk.
He looks up at you, slowly running his fingers up your leg, "It was a pleasure being your professor. But I'd rather be your boyfriend right now." He pushes his chair back and stands between your legs. He leans in, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. His breath is hot against your neck as he slowly presses his lips to your skin. You lean your head back as his lips trail from your neck, to your jaw and finally to your lips. You slide your hands under his shirt and up his back before you hear the door open, beside you.
"What the hell is this!" You hear Stiles yell, Isaac stands up straight as you jump down from the desk. "Stiles. How are you?" He stands with his arms crossed.
"Don't 'How are you' me. What the hell is going on here?" He taps his foot waiting for a response. "Umm, nothing really. We were just... making out?" You look at Isaac and he nods.
"We were going to go a bit further but you walked in so here we are." Stiles looks at him, stunned. "Isn't he your TA?"
"Yes but he was my boyfriend before he was my TA." You hoist yourself back onto the desk, "Now, do you have any more questions or can we get back to our extra curricular activity?" Stiles gives you both the middle finger and shuts the door.
You slip your hands under Isaac's shirt and quickly pull it over his head. Your fingers trace his chest down to the button of his pants, you slowly unbutton them and he slips them off. You look up at him, your fingertips playing at the waistband of his boxers, "Do you want to take these off yourself or should I?"
YOU ARE READING
Teen wolf imagines
Fanficim.ag.i.na.tion iˌmajəˈnāSH(ə)n/ noun the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses. "she'd never been blessed with a vivid imagination"
