Jonas Brothers Imagines/Preferences

Mr Jonas part 1

#imagine
He ran his finger up and down the side of his blue, ballpoint pen, his other hand furiously grabbing onto the fabric of his work pants. He glanced at the clock, his heart beat echoing at every spin of the hand that winded down number after number, waiting for it to be four.
He stared at you, without thinking, hoping for something far fetched; an insane idea, perhaps, haunting him.
He was about to run out, unable to be in the same room with you, when the ringing of the bell made him jump, and he glanced back at you, briefly, before standing up.
"Turn in your tests at my desk," He watched student after student drop off their papers, and tried to still his heart beat, but his body had a mind of its own when it came to you.
He was eager to go home, to take a cold shower, to force himself to forget you until the torture of seeing you Monday morning was present.
"Have a good weekend, Mr. Jonas." A student called back, waving at him.
Nick waved back, a smile forming on his lips, and he began to stack the papers neatly, making sure every corner was concise, and matched the lines of the previous paper.
He sighed.
"Time to go home." He mumbled to himself, relieved.
"I'm sorry Mr. Jonas." You said, your hand furiously scribbling the last few sentences.
He jumped at your voice, not realizing you were still in the classroom.
Alone.
With him.
Nick stepped back, as if he was unsure what his body might do.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were still working," He said, clearly nervous.
You looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah," You brushed back your hair, making him drop his eyes immediately. "I just really needed a good grade on this one." You began to stand up, and he tried not to watch but the temptation seemed too much a burden. His eyes crawled up your slender legs, until they hit your skirt, and he shut his eyes, guilty.
"Here you go, Nick." You said, a wide eye, almost teasingly, staring back at him.
Nick pushed up his black framed glasses, opening his eyes, unable to not smile.
"Mr. Jonas." He corrected. "You know better." He scolded, playfully.
You lingered near, looking at the window, observing the hallway traffic filled with students racing to get to their buses.
Nick tried to breathe steadily, reminding himself that it was almost over, and you, the student that haunted his insanely inappropriate dreams, would be gone. Just as it needed to be.
You leaned on his desk, the very act making him step away from it, and pretend to erase something on the board.
"Am I bothering you?" You said, smirking.
"Why would you say that?" He asked, over his shoulder.
"Because you've been erasing nothing for the past four minutes."
You could hear as he dropped the eraser, his shoulders tense.
"What did I get on my last test?" You said, switching the subject.
He gulped, his mouth dry. "I-I don't know. I would have to look it up."
"Can you?"
Yes, he could. No, he didn't want to, because his laptop was on the desk you very well leaned upon.
He turned, walking over to his desk and sitting in his chair stiffly.
A few dabbles at the keyboard and you seemed bored.
"An 83." Nick said, trying hard not to look up.
"I need an A in the class." You sighed, sad.
"You're a good student, I'm sure you can do it."
"You know, you're the only class that I don't have an A in." You laughed, sweetly, making him look up.
"I'm sorry." He said, guilty.
"Why are you sorry?" You laughed. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I just can't seem to get these essays where they need to be."
"I can help you."
Boom.
And just like that, he felt his body win himself over, and he regretted it.
"Extra credit?" You seemed eager.
The sunlight gleamed over his frames, and you couldn't help but realize just how young he looked.
He still hadn't said anything, he was mentally kicking himself in the head.
"Well," He said, doubtful. "I don't really do extra credit."
"You just...said..."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You're so awkward, Nick."
"Mr. Jonas." He gave you a sideways smile, and you couldn't help but squirm.
Silence.
Silence throughout the halls. You looked outside and no students were around. You wondered how long you had been in the classroom. It didn't bother you much, you had a car, but something told you that you'd better go home now.
"I don't want to go home just yet." You blurted out, and you could feel yourself panic at what you just said.
"You need to." Nick bit his lip. His hand began to furiously grab at his pants, making him nervous.
"Why do I need to?" You looked straight into his eyes.
"Because I'll think of some extra credit for you to do..." He mumbled, out of breath.
"And that's supposed to make me go home?" You almost wanted to laugh, but didn't.
"Oh trust me," He whispered. "You better."
His lowered voice sent goosebumps up your arms.
"Try me."
And just like that, Nick could feel an erection coming through the barriers of his boxers.
"You'll have to work really hard." He said, almost threateningly.
His demeanor scared you, thrilled you, and though you knew you should leave, you wanted more than anything to stay.
"I'm a hard working student." You could barely say, your breath taken away by his hungry eyes.
He locked his classroom door, and closed his blinds.
He was out for the weekend.
You hadn't moved from the position you were standing in.
You felt him approach you from behind.
He was hesitant, terrified to the bone. Was he finally going to let himself indulge?
You gulped, feeling adrenaline race through your veins, making you excited.
"Touch me."
And he did, the first physical contact.
Breaking the line between student and teacher.
He pushed back your hair, smelling your shampoo, breathing you in.
You could feel his hot breath on your neck, and you leaned to one side, giving him full access.
"I can't do this." He was torn, frustrated by everything.
"Mr. Jonas, oh, but I'm not one to forgive easily, especially when it comes to my grades.
He bit his lip hard, walking back over to you and finally, kissing your neck.
You exhaled sharply, the tips of your fingertips becoming hot, guilty.
"Mr. Jonas..." You eased into his touch, mumbling in a daze, pressing the back of his curls to your neck.
He let out a small growl, at hearing you call him by his teacher name, making him feel wrong in all the right ways.
He spun you around, pushing you down onto his mahogony desk.
"How bad do you want an A?"
"Badly," you said, tracing the line of your collarbone, as one of your legs ran up the other.
"Shit." He mumbled, and you felt a rush of heat come through you.
There you were. All his.
He began to unzip his work pants, letting them drop to the floor. He looked at you, expecting you to do the same thing.
You shook you head, if you were going to do this, you wanted it to be exactly what he needed it to be.
"Oh, but Mr. Jonas," You said, teasingly. "You'll have to assist me with taking off my panties."
He gulped, feeling himself throb.
He shook his head yes, and ran his fingers slowly up your skirt, taking down with them your panties.
He had wanted to touch you for the longest time.
"Mr. Jonas," you were nervous, too. "Just remember, I like my extra credit...hard."
At that, he gripped your legs, forcing them open, and slammed himself into you, shaking the desk you sat upon.
You heaved, arching your back, the pain all too real and all to fascinating for him to stop at that.
"More." You gulped, and he began a series of violent rampaged thrusts, pulling you by your legs further onto him until you began to whimper.
Beads of sweat trailed down his perfectly chiseled jaw, and your hands clawed into the flesh of his back as he shook you into the brink of insanity.
The smell of your skin made him alive.
"You're going to have to do better than that for your grade." He demanded, barely able to get the sentence out.
Your eyebrow lifted, he was serious.
You pushed him out of you, and he was left, confused.
He was scared you were going to run.
"Okay." Your pink lips echoed in his direction, and the sight of him staring at his erection like a little boy made you want him even more.
You took your time to help yourself off his desk, and when you did, you told him to lean against it.
"Why?" He said, nervous.
"Ah-ah." This time was your turn to scold. "Let the student teach you."
He gulped.
He watched as your head went slowly down his body, and when he felt you near him, he closed his eyes and his mouth fell agape in yearning.
You blew softly, cold air hitting his raw shaft, making his leg shiver.
Your innocent lips parted, and in you took him, saving no time.
He grabbed a hold of his desk, his abdomen involuntarily moving in the direction of your mouth.
He let out an audible breath, the idea of you sucking him off making him sweat harder.
"Shit." He scowled, feeling your teeth rub up against him.
You bobbed your head up and down, his one hand clenched on your shoulder, trembling.
You weren't done yet.
"Lay down on your desk."
"What?" He pouted, boyishly, making you smile.
"You heard me."
He was breathing hard, upset as you licked your lips. He obviously he wasn't done with that last number.
"But-"
"Mr. Jonas," You insisted. "Lay down."
He smirked, your bossy side making him wild.
He grabbed his laptop and put it on the floor, before swinging everything else off his desk, and laying down.
You pulled your shirt off of your head, revealing your cleavage.
He tried to look away, he really did, the teacher in him telling him that this isn't right.
But a smile sent from your direction made him feel safe to want you. And boy, did he.
You pulled down your skirt, before swinging your leg over the desk and hopping up onto him.
"Just want to make sure you taught me right."
He was confused, furrowing his brow, giving you a look of someone amused.
"So, Mr. Jonas," You said, and you slid onto him, making his head hit the back of his desk hard. "Did you teach me this right?" You panted, beginning to ride him slowly.
He tried to say something, but the pure joy of seeing you there took him over.
"It's a back and forth motion," You closed your eyes, trying to steady your pace. "Easy right?"
He bit his bottom trembling lip.
"Uh-huh." He murmured, closing his eyes too, feeling his lower half throb.
"Well fuck that." You spat, and his eyes flashed open, aroused.
"Like I said, I like it hard."
You grabbed his hands, forcing them onto your cleavage, and began to thrust as hard as you could, making him scream.
His hands clawed into your bosom, tenderly, trying to hold on for dear life.
Your hips clashed down repeatedly into his, and he arched his back, feeling every frustration of wanting you from afar disappear. You rode him good, making his legs weak.
Heavy breathing swirled around you both.
Thick sweat ran down his neck, disappearing behind the cloth of his shirt.
"Baby, my god." He breathed, satisfied.
You kept on, swinging your body into him, ramming both of you further into his desk so that it etched permanently on his back.
"Shit." He tried without success to get you off of him, but he was too engulfed with everything to do so.
"I'm gonna..." He bit his lip.
You quickly jumped off, and watched as his cum emerged from him, making him quiver.
You leaned over him, brushing his sweaty curls out of his face.
You gently kissed his lips, and he kissed yours back, disbelieving his luck.
"If I can," You breathed, your heart pounding at his touch. "I'd like to be assigned extra credit again."
He smiled, naughty.
"You'll get to an A in no time." He breathed, pushing your lips back onto his