Shawn Mendes Imagines

Classroom (This is kind of dirty. Nothing too much tho)

THESE IMAGINES ARE NOT MINE!!! I JUST EDITED THEM A LITTLE!!

PM ME FOR PERSONAL IMAGINES!

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 As you strolled into the classroom, your prehistoric ancient history teacher pointed at you, "Y/N, I need you to do a favor for me." You opened your mouth up to protest but she continued, "My previous class ended up making quite the mess in the art classroom neighboring ours. Would you mind spending this class cleaning up in there? You may choose a friend to join you, dear." You nodded slightly. Almost instantly, your best friend's arm whipped up in the air. "I'll go with Y/N miss!" The teacher laughed. "Sorry, but I'd prefer it if it were someone who could actually afford to miss a lesson." Y/F frowned and slunk back into her seat. You gestured to her with your hands that you couldn't help her. "Anyone else?" your teacher called out. "I'll help her," someone seated in the back answered confidently. You strained your neck to see who and, to your surprise, it was Shawn (your crush). You'd never even properly spoken to this guy and he was offering to spend an entire hour in your company?

The teacher nodded and smiled knowingly at him, ushering him to join you. You watched, transfixed, as Shawn made his way to where you stood- avoiding numerous confused looks from your friend. He followed you to the empty classroom in silence, and you kept sneaking glances at his god-like figure. The art room was dark. And aside from several abandoned paintbrushes and scattered artworks, the room was reasonably tidy. You looked up at Shawn with an eyebrow raised, and he simply shrugged in reply. "Let's just get this cleaned up, and then we can head back," he said. You stared at his beautiful mouth while he spoke, watching the words flow out so effortlessly. And that deep voice! It was smooth and velvety. And sexy. You uttered incoherently in agreement and set about washing the brushes. The two of you stood side by side at the sink, rhythmically washing the paintbrushes under the tap. Every so often, Shawn's hand, or arm, or elbow would brush against you sending tingles throughout your body. Could he feel it too? The once peaceful silence was growing deafening and you had finished cleaning. Clearly, he wasn't in the mood to talk to you.
"Well, I'm gonna head back to class- thanks for your help Shawn," you called.

As you walked towards the doorway, past where he was standing, you suddenly felt a fingertip on your leg. The feather-light touch began at your inner ankle and was trailing up your leg at a tormentingly slow pace. Shawn's touch was spreading heat throughout your body, and the further his expert fingers trailed, the more your desire grew. His hand was under your skirt by now, and his eager fingers skimmed against your panties. This was getting heated, fast. You tensed. He leaned into your ear and whispered, "I love the way you say my name." Stepping forward, you attempted to regain your composure and turned around to face him. The smoldering look in Shawn's eyes was enough to make you crumble all over again. He looked hurt that you had left him and stepped closer. You looked at him warily and he spoke in that rich voice that shook something deep within your bones. "Y/N baby, let's make our own art."

At his words, you succumbed to your raging desire for Shawn. You let him lock the door and take you into his awaiting arms, showering your face with kisses. He carried you over to the nearest desk and carefully lowered your back down onto it. Climbing on top of you, he kissed your forehead. Then, working his way down your face, he trailed kisses past your nose, your lips, your chin, your neck, and worked his way down to your aching breasts. He unbuttoned the top of your school shirt, and your back arched in ecstasy upon his lips finding your sweet spot. He nibbled and sucked, while his hands reached under and up your shirt and began massaging your breasts. You were interrupted mid-moan by the sound of your school bell ringing. School. You had completely forgotten where you were. Shawn grinned at you, rather pleased with himself, and offered a hand to help you up from the desk.

"We'll continue from where we left off tomorrow Y/N," he smirked as you redid your shirt buttons and hitched your skirt back down.

You glanced at the present bulge in his trousers and smirked back at him. Reaching out and stroking it through his pants, you whispered, "don't miss me too much."

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