French-Cars

I Like It When You Do That (Isaac Lahey)

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Summary: However this ends, he’s a fool if he does nothing or a fool if he gives into the sweetness of temptation.

Author’s Note: I’m glad I’m finally done with this story. I had debated on a while on how far to take this. But I’m glad that I decided to push the envelope and go all the way with the smut. Enjoy!


Nights like this were always innocent.

They would curl up under the covers of her bed and watch movies until they both fell asleep. Suspicions never rose when they spent hours together behind her bedroom door; often times it wouldn’t open until the early hours of the morning and it was time for Isaac to leave so he could head home to get ready for school. It was entirely innocent…until it wasn’t. Her parents should have expected that it would turn out that way eventually.

The night starts out like every other one. They had watched two movies and thirty minutes into the third (some French film remake with an obscenely long title), she was sound asleep. The movie was a thriller; it was on the subtler side but the heroine was hot and that kept his attention mostly.

Then there was a sex scene. Of course there was a sex scene. Not that he was complaining too much. The guy okay looking, but seeing the actress naked, enjoying being eaten out, being thrust into from behind—the whole scene made his cock twinge with desire.

Isaac feels a shift beside him. Looking down, he sees [Name] burrowing herself further into the covers of her bed. Lying on her side with one arm tucked under the pillow and her legs pulled towards her stomach, she looked like an angel. She looked so peaceful (and not his girl) and there was a desire in his blood to touch her. It should never have been a thought that entered his mind. It was wrong. She was his friend and asleep, and he was turned on by a movie. He should have just gone to bathroom to jack off. Isaac licks his lips as his eyes travel across her sleeping form.

Keep reading

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.