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jj-one · 26 days ago

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EPISODE 1: HELP! MY HOT GIRLFRIEND CAUGHT ME CRYING AFTER GIVING HEAD! (NOT CLICKBAIT)

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

jisung thought tutoring the hottest girl on campus would ruin his GPA— not his pants. one month later, he’s somehow getting called ‘pretty’ mid-thrust and offering you pocky as a post-orgasm snack.

pairing: nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader, established relationship genre/tags: college au, smut, fluff, jisung is a loser with a capital L, humor sprinkled in bc i’m unserious asf, lots of references to anime and other dumb stuff, lowkey perv!jisung, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), piv, protected s*x, kinda subby!jisung but he’s still a whore lol words: 5.4k (wasn’t expecting it to be this long… guess i yap too much)

[ note. ] — i had to make another nerd!ji fic bc i literally cannot stop thinking about him 😣 feel free to read my other fic for more context since it’s set in the same universe but i wanted to make a smut ver so here we areeee <33 also, i will be making more parts eventually, hence why it’s labeled as ‘episode 1’ so stay tuned for more !

Jisung thought for sure that was going to die a virgin. Not in a sad, self-loathing kind of way, but more in a “yeah, that checks out,” kind of way. The type of peaceful resignation one might have while unplugging a broken router for the eighth time before crying into a bowl of instant ramen. Because guys like him— guys who quoted Dragon Ball Z unironically, who panicked when girls sat next to them in lecture halls, who built custom keyboards for fun and screamed at League. They didn’t date girls like you.

And they most definitely didn’t sleep with girls like you.

Still, that didn’t keep him from fantasizing. Constantly, shamelessly, unhingedly.

He’d never known what it felt like to have warm walls wrapped around his cock. Never heard those broken whines girls in hentai would make— unless he counted the ones he accidentally let out when he edged himself too long. His hand was simply never enough, no matter how many times he convinced himself he could “recreate the pressure.”

The bottle of lotion and box of tissues on his nightstand weren’t even hidden anymore— they sat like holy relics beside his gaming PC, ready for immediate access the second he closed League and opened incognito mode.

Porn never fully satisfied his craving though, he always wanted more. Even the best JAV compilation or doujinshi fan dub couldn’t compare to the real sickness consuming his brain: you.

You, with the glossy Instagram that he scrolled through like it was the damn Louvre. You, wearing micro bikinis in pool selfies with captions like ‘hot girl summer’ while he rots in bed, sweating and crying at the curvature of your ass.

You, biting your glittery, gel pen in class, leaning across the desk to ask for help, accidentally flashing a glimpse of cleavage so dangerous it made him pause mid-equation like he got hit with a stun grenade. Stalking your Instagram, seeing you in the tiniest baby tees and mini skirts. It was the perfect gooner material.

He’d stroke himself under the covers while biting a t-shirt to keep quiet, muttering your name between gasps like he was summoning a spirit. Fantasies playing out in his head that ranged from soft and romantic— like kissing you breathless during office hours— to completely feral, like bending you over his anime pillow while you called him “pretty boy” and ruined his life.

It didn’t help that you flirted with him now.

That you asked him to tutor you.

That you sat so close during study sessions he could sense your perfume from a mile away and taste the salt from the fries you always stole off his plate.

You laughed at his jokes, called him cute, even once said he had “nice hands,” and he nearly evaporated on the spot. Had to excuse himself to the bathroom with a boner and a prayer.

Every night ended the same. Him, fisting his cock in pathetic desperation at the thought of your pussy swallowing him whole, whispering ‘please’ like a man on the verge of religious enlightenment.

And every night, after he came all over his own stomach, out of breath and guilt-ridden, he’d sigh dramatically and say,

“I’m going to die alone. I know it. I’ll be the guy with the Zero Two body pillow and the unopened condom pack from 2017 that he keeps in case of a miracle.”

He did not, under any circumstances, expect you to be that miracle.

Never in a million years did he think he’d actually have a chance, let alone be dating you. You were just too perfect. The literal girl of his dreams.

Popular. Gorgeous. Cool in the kind of way that made any and everyone want to be around you without knowing why. You had that magnetic charm about you, an easily contagious laugh, a confident stride when you walk, and that dangerous habit of licking your lip gloss mid-sentence like you were in a CW drama.

And yet, somehow, here he was, currently horizontal on his bed, shirtless, breathless, with you on top of him wearing his oversized Bleach t-shirt and not much else, grinning like you’d just won first place in a science fair and a dance battle.

“Are you glitching?” You asked, poking his cheek. “Do I need to unplug you and plug you back in?”

“I- uh- w-what? No- yes? No.” He stuttered like every word had just magically left his vocabulary, he was definitely malfunctioning.

You laughed, head dropping onto his bare chest as he laid stiff as a board, arms hovering midair like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you even now. Even after dating you for a whole month.

“A month,” he whispered, still stunned by the timeline. “That’s like… thirty days of you voluntarily being seen with me.”

“Thirty one,” you corrected, lifting your head to smirk down at him. “Don’t forget the bonus day where you kissed me in front of the vending machine and the entire basketball team clapped.”

“I thought I was going to throw up.”

“You looked like you did throw up.”

Jisung covered his face with both hands and groaned.

God, he still didn’t know how this happened. When you had asked him to tutor you in stats, he assumed you were just kidding— or high. But you weren’t. You’d actually shown up. You’d flirted, sat on his lap one time when all the seats were taken at the library, and then acted like it was no big deal while his soul left his body.

And now here you were. Straddling him. Teasing him. Literally wearing his t-shirt with the anime print on it and calling him “baby” in the kind of voice that should be illegal.

“You’re so tense, Sungie,” you murmur, lightly dragging your fingers down his chest. “I know you like it when I touch you. You make these cute little gasps like a baby bird.”

“I-I don’t sound like a baby bird,” he mumbled, absolutely sounding like a baby bird.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Chirp.”

Jisung squeaked.

You lost it, giggling into his neck while he covered his blushy face with a pillow. “Oh my god, stopp- why are you like this- why did you choose me,”

“Because you’re smart, and sweet, and you get all flustered when I call you hot. And because,” you sat up again, hips rolling ever so slightly and watching his pupils blow wide as you rocked against his clothed erect, “you say things like ‘This is just like my fanfic’ under your breath and then deny it.”

He groaned at the sudden friction, arms falling limp at his sides. “You heard that?”

“Babe, I hear everything. Like right now, I can hear how bad you want me to ride you.” You bit your lip, feeling your wetness growing at a rapid pace as you continuously grind on him.

Jisung whimpered. “Okay. I- this is really happening, right? This isn’t like, some kind of VR dream or like a… cursed hentai plotline where I wake up and you’re actually a sentient toaster?”

You blinked. “What the hell kind of anime are you watching?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Nevermind, pretend I didn’t say that..”

You kissed him then. Slowly. Tenderly. Like you had all the time in the world and like you couldn’t believe your luck either. Because yeah, you were the cool girl, but Jisung was the first guy who actually listened when you talked. Who remembered your favorite boba order. Who’d stayed up until 3 am tutoring you and still walked you to your dorm with sleepy, nerdy affection twinkling in his eyes.

So yeah, you were gonna roast him forever— but you were also gonna ruin him tonight.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, reaching down to tug his sweatpants lower.

Jisung was in the midst of catching his breath like he’d just run a marathon. “Y-yeah?”

“After I make you cum, will you tell me all about the sentient toaster anime?”

“…Maybe.”

“Okay,” Jisung panted, curling into your side like a baby koala clinging to its mother, “that was better than every hentai I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted into his shoulder. “High praise coming from the man who owns a $300 body pillow.”

“She was limited edition!” He quickly defends himself.

You playfully roll your eyes, kissing his flushed cheek. “So are you, Sungie. So are you.”

And yeah, Jisung still thought he was going to die a virgin once upon a time.

But now, wrapped in your arms with kiss marks littering his neck and your laughter still echoing in his ears— he was just really, really glad that he’s been proven wrong.

The moment you straddled Jisung and kissed him again, something shifted in the room.

And not just him having an outer-body experience for the sixth time in an hour.

You pulled back from his lips to look around, and the first thing you said was, “Okay, I have to say it- your room is the most aggressively virgin-coded space I’ve ever been in.”

“I told you not to look too closely!” He whined, burying his face into your neck as you giggled and craned to inspect the chaos surrounding you.

“Let’s see…” you started ticking things off on your imaginary list. “Anime wall scrolls? Check. Neon RGB light strips that make your room look like a gaming dungeon? Check. Is that Hatsune Miku in a glass case next to middle school spelling bee trophies?”

He groaned. “They’re collector’s items—”

“You were runner-up in 8th grade and you framed it.”

“I peaked early, okay?!”

You laughed so hard you fell forward onto his chest. “I love you.”

He froze. “Wh-what?”

You blinked. “I said I love you.”

He looked like you’d just offered him a lifetime supply of ramen and also stabbed him in the heart.

“…I love you too,” he whispered, barely getting it out before he hid under the covers.

You tugged the blanket back down just enough to see his red face. “Hey. Don’t hide. I wanna see you. Look so pretty when you blush.”

“PRETTY?!” He yelped.

You nodded in confirmation, brushing hair off his forehead. “Mmhm. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Especially like this- messy hair, pink cheeks, all breathless under me…”

He made the most broken noise you’d ever heard.

His hands gripped your hips like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying not to crush you or himself with how desperate he felt. His eyes were dark now, glazed and locked onto your every move as you slowly ground against the bulge in his sweats.

“This is real, right?” He meant to ask that in his head but blurted it out instead, voice slightly cracking. “This is really happening?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Feels pretty real to me, baby.”

At this point Jisung was spiraling.

Not just emotionally. No, that happened daily.

This was a full-system shutdown.

You’d tugged your shirt off without warning and smiled down at him like it was the most casual thing in the world, and now his hands were hovering awkwardly mid-air like he wasn’t sure if he had permission to touch you or if he was being Punk’d by the gods of horny delusion.

Your skin. Your smile. Your fucking tits.

And worse— worse— as your fingers brushed through his messy brown locks and your thighs shifted over his hips, his brain suddenly screamed,

‘I can’t believe I’m about to get pussy before Jeongin.’

Jeongin, his slightly cooler, slightly taller, still-a-virgin roommate who had three rotating Discord kittens and a suspicious amount of cologne but somehow still never scored.

Jeongin, who walked around shirtless after push-up sessions and said things like “it’s not rizz, it’s charisma” unironically. Jeongin, who once said “I want my first time to be passionate and respectful” but also accidentally downloaded a virus trying to pirate a hentai dating sim.

Jisung had always assumed if one of them was gonna make it out of virginhood first, it’d be the guy with the Uzumaki clan symbol tattooed on his ribs and a social life.

But no.

It was him. Han Jisung. The guy who owned a limited-edition anime titty mousepad and squeaked like a kettle when a girl touched his arm. And now? You were grinding up against him slowly, teasingly, and he was barely clinging to reality.

“Y/n,” he whimpered, clutching your waist like you’d float away. “Can I- can I eat you out? Pleasepleaseplease.”

You blinked rapidly.

“…You wanna—?”

“So bad,” he choked. “I think about it all the time. Like in class. And when I watch those ‘how to’ videos online. Like, the diagram ones, not the porn ones, though I watched those too- but like educationally! For science!”

You stared blankly.

He was sweating.

“Okay,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re really cute when you beg, y’know that?”

He nearly ascended.

You barely had time to giggle before he flipped you gently onto your back, hair falling into his eyes as he ducked down between your thighs like a man on a mission from God. His hands trembled as he slid your shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of your soaked panties.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. “It’s real.”

You snorted. “What were you expecting? A hologram?”

“I don’t know!” He cried. “I was starting to believe you were some kind of high-level succubus sent to punish virgins.”

You cupped his flushed face. “Wouldn’t be the worst punishment.”

And then he locks in— eyes meeting yours as he sticks his tongue out, licking a long, fat stripe across your clothed slit. Soft. Slow. As if he was trying to memorize you with his tongue, the heat of it makes you jolt. He’s not just tasting you— he’s learning you, tracing intricate patterns with his tongue like he’s trying to decode you one flick at a time. Every motion is precise yet hungry, like he’s writing a love letter in Morse code directly to your pussy. His glasses slipping adorably down the bridge of his nose, solely focused on pleasing you.

You gasped at the feel of him against you, the pressure of his mouth sent heat curling low in your belly, it was torture. Too much and not enough. You needed to feel him without the barrier of soaked lace clinging to your folds, and he must’ve read your mind, because he groaned like he was the one being denied. He kissed your pussy like he was thanking it, mouthing over your clothed core before dragging open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, leaving your skin slick with spit and bites to your inner thighs. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, everything about him felt so warm.

His teeth grazed you— playful, hungry— and your hips twitched as he whispered something nasty under his breath, half to himself, half to your cunt. By the time he slid your panties down, your thighs were trembling, tossing the flimsy fabric aside carelessly, like he didn’t care where they landed, only that they were gone. Then he buried his face between your legs like you’d been starving him for his entire life.

His tongue slipped between your folds, hot and greedy, lapping up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He flicked up and down with obscene precision, wet, messy, relentless— his nose bumping your clit as he moaned deep in his throat, like he needed this, like the taste of you could make or break him. You were soaked, legs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, and all he did was keep eating like he was trying to crawl inside you with his tongue.

You were loving the way it feels, every bit of you being hit with electricity. Your fingers tangled in his hair the second his mouth met your pussy, gripping tight, yanking just enough to make him groan into you like he was grateful for the pain. He never slowed down. If anything, it made him hungrier, tongue flattening against your slit before flicking up again, sloppy and fast and fucking filthy.

“God- fuck, you’re so messy,” you gasped, thighs twitching around his head. “You like that? Being my dirty little mouth toy?”

He moaned. Moaned. Into your pussy.

Nodding obediently, even as you tugged harder, grinding him closer. His glasses were long gone, hair disheveled, chin dripping with spit and slick as he slurred out something unintelligible against your clit. His tongue working overtime like he was trying to spell your name in cursive with every flick.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, words caught in his throat. “I could live here.”

You threw your head back with a laugh— and then a sharp gasp as he got bolder, messier, more desperate. His hands kept you spread, his tongue curling and licking and worshipping like this was the only chance he’d ever get. He was sure that he’d jizz his pants just from giving you head— sure it’s pathetic, maybe even tragic. But he couldn’t help it. You were just too hot, too perfect, too fucking unreal, and the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your thighs squeezing around his head, it was better than anything his fist or filthy imagination had ever given him.

Your fingers remain tangled in his hair, holding onto him for anchorage. He looked up at you with glassy, pleading eyes, the lower half of his face glistening with your arousal and rosy cheeks. “Tell me I’m doing okay? Please? I read five articles about this. I practiced on a peach.”

You gasped. “You practiced on what?!”

“Nevermind. Just- keep calling me pretty. I swear I’ll die happy right here.”

You tugged his head back down, voice ragged and ruined.

“Then make me cum, pretty boy.”

And he did.

Like a man with something to prove.

Like a nerdy little virgin who had just found his true calling.

Your eyes closed shut at the feeling, falling apart at the seams. Every stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. You suddenly couldn’t remember how breathing worked, all you saw were flashes of white invading your vision, cumming so hard that you almost saw stars. You cried out, high and broken, hands grasping at his head as you came hard against his mouth.

Jisung moaned through it— loud and messy— tongue never letting up, licking you through every twitch, every gasp, every last jolt of overstimulation until you were tugging at his hair for dear life and gasping for air. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes half-lidded, face absolutely drenched, and smiling like he just beat the final boss of his entire life.

Somewhere in the past twenty minutes between Jisung nuzzling your thighs like a man starved and moaning like he was the one cumming, you had apparently blacked out, transcended the mortal plane, and been reborn as a puddle of girl.

Now, you lay sprawled across his unmade bed, fully clothed from the waist up and violently ruined from the waist down, chest heaving, eyes wet and glassy, one sock half-off your foot like a casualty of war.

And Jisung?

Jisung was cuddled up beside you like the world’s horniest golden retriever, chin resting on your shoulder, looking so smug and soft it was almost offensive.

You could still feel the ghost of his tongue between your legs.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” You croaked out, blinking up at the ceiling like it had answers.

Jisung tilted his head innocently. “What, that? Nah. I just… researched. A lot. And I… uh, practiced on a fruit.”

You turned your head slowly. “Was it the peach again?”

“…It might’ve also been a mango. For tongue agility. But I named it after you, so it was romantic!”

You tried to snort, but it came out as a wheeze. “I can’t feel my legs, Jisung.”

He beamed. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it as one.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead like he hadn’t just destroyed your entire nervous system with his mouth.

“I feel like I just unlocked a secret side quest,” he victoriously cheered. “‘Satisfy hot girlfriend until she sees God.’ Bonus XP for oral stamina. Am I your favorite now?”

You blinked at him, still fighting for air. “I don’t even know my name right now. You’ve ruined me.”

Jisung squeaked and tucked his face into your neck, practically vibrating with joy. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You should. I saw the afterlife. It was just a video game buffering screen.”

He laughed, then rolled onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe this is real. You’re real. Your thighs are real. I had a girlfriend and head privileges all in the same night. I feel like I need to call my mom.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late. She deserves to know her son peaked.”

You smacked him lightly with the nearest pillow, still grasping for air, still dazed.

And then he smiled at you— so big, so genuine, so sickeningly in love that your tired heart clenched.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, y’know,” he mumbled, brushing hair from your face. “Just say the word.”

You looked at him, the boy with anime figures on his shelf, lotion still on his desk, and love in his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I’m returning the favor.”

Mindlessly reaching into his sweats, the second your hand wrapped around his length, you froze.

“…Jisung.”

“H-huh?”

You gave a blank expression. Looking down. Looking back up.

“This is- you’re.. how is this even—?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he cried. “IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE, I’M ONLY 5’7!”

You stared at him like he just told you he had a second life as a Marvel superhero.

“Oh my god, I just assumed you’d be, like—”

“Average?!” He gasped, scandalized.

“No! I just- I mean- look at you! You’re this cute little nerd with anime socks and a keyboard with cat ears.. how are you packing all this?!”

You were in utter disbelief, there’s no way your sweet, stammering little boyfriend had been walking around with a dick that big and had no idea what kind of weapon he was carrying. Just raw, untapped dick potential— XL stats on a man who still apologizes when his knees crack too loud. Poor baby had been lugging around a whole third leg, and didn’t even know the first thing to do with it ;(

He simply shook his head, fully tomato red now, flailing beneath you like he was about to spontaneously combust. He watched you like he was afraid to blink. You pumped him once, slowly, watching him shiver under your touch. His lips parted. His back arched. You hadn’t even gotten started and he already looked completely ruined.

“Can I ride you?” You asked sweetly.

He nodded so fast his head could nearly fell off. “Yes. Yes, oh my god, yes- please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“I’ll uninstall League right now if you ask me to—”

You giggled as you rolled the condom down over him, letting his hands greedily grab at your thighs. He was panting, forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat, like his brain was overheating just from the anticipation.

Then you finally lowered yourself, sinking down onto him, gradually, feeling the way you take him so easily from being soaking wet. Jisung mumbles something illegible under his breath as your cunt swallows his cock whole. It didn’t take long for you to reach the end of him since you were already so ready for him, staying in the same position to feel all of him inside you. His cock was splitting you open so nicely, it felt like you were in utter paradise.

And he made the sound.

Like his soul physically left his body, floated into the air, and gave you a salute on the way out.

“F-fuck.. you’re tight, I can’t—” he clutched your waist, eyes fluttering. “I’m gonna die. This is it. This is how I go.” He desperately bucks into you, wanting to feel more movement from you.

You move your hips to match his rhythm as you gain your balance, pressing both hands on his shoulder blades. You bounce slightly up and down on his cock, feeling your walls being filled up by every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him real slow to picking up your pace indefinitely. Jisung threw his head back against the pillow from the pleasure, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass with the combination of it jiggling as you rode him like a bunny was enough to make him want to burst on the spot.

You leaned down and give him a chaste kiss. “Best way to go, huh?”

He nods vehemently. “Please don’t stop. Ever. I’ll cancel my Crunchyroll subscription for you. I’ll stop buying figurines. I’ll even delete my Genshin account.”

“Okay, now you’re being dramatic.”

He groaned helplessly as you continuously rode him like your life depended on it, breath hitching with every drag of your hips. He was so sensitive, so overwhelmed with it all that he couldn’t stop moaning into your mouth, mumbling broken, incoherent things like, “You feel soso good,” and “I can’t believe I get to have this,” and “Am I still breathing? No? Cool.”

You kissed down his jaw, showing no signs of stopping. You knew this was going to be one of those moments you’d both play on loop in your heads for a long, long time. “Still pretty, baby.”

He pants out. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You simply keep moaning as you kept bouncing on his cock, he was thrusting back into you, going even deeper. Your eyes reaching the back of your skull from the way he was hitting all the right spots. It wouldn’t take long before you started screaming his name and showering him with endless compliments.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Ji.” You were a broken record at this point, nothing but your whines and his grunts filling the room. You felt tense, your clit was throbbing, the pressure build up making you dizzy. Jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off you for a second, the way your tits bounced through your shirt, the way your long acrylics dug into his skin, he wasn’t even sure how he was still alive.

This was better than any of those fake scenarios that he’d absentmindedly create in his head, better than finally beating a level that he’d get stuck on for hours. He was in pure heaven, and he felt his high approaching any minute.

“I-I think ’m gonna cum,” he desperately choked out, rocking into you like a dog in heat.

Jisung was wrecked beneath you. Hands fisting into the sheets, mouth agape, his eyes rolling back every time you sank down fully and clenched around him.

“Fuck, please- please, I-I can’t,” he whimpered, voice shaky, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. His stomach tightening with every motion, trying so hard not to lose it.

You leaned forward and cupped his face, riding him a little harder, the slap of skin soft but steady. “You said you could take it, baby,” you whispered, voice syrup-sweet. “You begged for this.”

“I know, I- just- pleaseplease can I cum?” he panted, nearly on the verge of tears. His voice was raw, wrecked, like every second you didn’t let him was a cruel punishment. “’m so close, I’m- I’ll be good, I swear, just let me.. please—”

You seal his lips with yours, just to quiet the begging, grinning against his mouth as his hands fumbled for your hips again. He moaned into the kiss, his hips twitching helplessly under yours.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you beg,” you airly chuckled, pulling back just enough to look down at him. His eyes were wild, glazed over, the pretty sounds he made were like music to your ears.

“Th-thank you,” he sobbed, the gratitude in his voice borderline ridiculous. “’m gonna- I’m- oh my god—”

And with that, he finally let go. Releasing every last drop of his seed into the condom, muscles tensing up, gripping you like you were his only tether to reality. He looked down to see your arousal creating a white, creamy ring around the base of his thick cock, almost about to cum again just from the mere sight alone. Your legs felt like jello, you were weightless, collapsing onto his sweaty, sticky chest as you try to catch your breath, brain all foggy in your post-coital daze.

You didn’t expect him to cry.

Okay— not, like, full sobbing. But a little misty-eyed? A little “what did I do to deserve this?” A sparkle in his gaze as you lay draped across his chest, both of you blissed out and glowing in the soft, RGB-lit afterglow?

Yeah.

He was trying so hard not to sniffle.

“You okay, baby?” You murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his jaw.

Jisung nodded, eyes wide and glassy. “I just… I thought my first time would be like, awkward. Or disappointing. Or I’d accidentally sneeze into someone’s mouth and get banned from touching boobs forever.”

You laughed against his skin. “Definitely didn’t happen.”

“No,” he grins, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “this was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined in my head. Better than my first SSR pull in Genshin. Better than when I tried the seasonal spicy chicken ramen and lived.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “That’s a pretty long list of victories to beat.”

“You’re the only victory that matters.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned playfully, “who is this smooth man and what has he done with my sweaty, anime-obsessed virgin boyfriend?”

He huffed, burying his face into your hair. “He’s still sweaty and obsessed with anime. He just… also happens to be madly in love with you.”

You smiled into his chest.

“Also,” he added, completely deadpan, “I think I saw the shadow realm.”

You snorted. “When?”

“When you said I was pretty and grabbed my—” His voice cracked. He covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I can’t say it. My ancestors are watching.”

You giggled, shifting to lay next to him and intertwining your fingers with his.

And for a while, it was just quiet. Safe. His hand slowly brushing over your side. Your heartbeat syncing with his. The faint whir of his PC fan still spinning in the corner because, of course, he never actually shut it down.

Then he jolted upright suddenly, as if he remembered something urgent.

“Wait.”

You blinked up at him, amused. “What?”

He slid off the bed, naked except for one, singular sock and scurried to his cluttered desk. You watched, dazed and curious, as he fumbled with drawers and cracked open a cabinet that definitely shouldn’t have had food in it.

Finally, he turned around triumphantly. Holding out a white, rectangular box.

“Pocky.”

You stared. “…Seriously?”

“I always imagined I’d give my girlfriend Pocky after her first time with me,” he said solemnly. “Like a weird little anime reward.”

You sat up and grinned. “You are a weird little anime reward.”

He climbed back into bed beside you and opened the box, pulling out one, white chocolate-dipped stick and offering it with both hands like it was a sacred gift.

You bit it gently from his fingers.

“Mmm. You’re such a good boy,” you purred with a playful smile, “giving me snacks after ruining me.”

He short-circuited. Almost choking on his own Pocky. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I hope so.”

You kissed his cheek, then his nose, and then— just to mess with him— you whispered, “Still thinking about how big you are, by the way.”

Jisung made a noise so high-pitched it could only be heard by dogs. He flopped face down into the sheets, flailing helplessly while you laughed and straddled his back.

“You have to stop saying things like that,” he muffled into the pillow.

“Why?” You asked sweetly, brushing his hair back. “You’re my pretty boy. I’m just appreciating what’s mine.”

He peeked up at you, still pink, still glowing.

“…Promise you’re mine too?”

You leaned down and pressed your lips against his, soft and slow.

“Always.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #skz fluff #han jisung fluff #han smut #han x reader #han jisung x you #skz fic #skz fanfic #han jisung oneshot #stray kids oneshot

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c4toru · 5 months ago

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BLOWING OFF STEAM !

Sypnosis : you’re on the brink of failing and in desperate need of a tutor. nerd!suguru is here to save the day! what happens when you find the nerdy perv a bit cute..— what?

Warnings : 18+ content, female reader, switch!reader, switch!geto, pervy suguru, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex ( m + f receiving ), cowgirl position, panty sniffing, etc.

WC : 2.7k

a/n : i hope you all like this !! i’ve had nerd!suguru on my brain for a while, nobody ever writes him this pathetic, c4toru is here to save the day! ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ minors & ageless blogs dni

“fuck..” you grumble, you had just received a passive email from your statistics professor informing you that your grades have dropped severely in the past couple of weeks. he was concerned with the fact that this continuous behavior could lead to you failing his class, insisting that you give tutoring a try. you run your hands through your sleek hair, leaning far back into your chair before sighing noisily.

you always had a tough time with maintaining decent grades, especially in courses as complicated as statistics. it was a class that always left you feeling extremely stagnant. you don’t know anyone in your class but you do in fact briefly recall your professor naming one particular man as his top student.

suguru geto wasn’t necessarily intimidating, he seemed very welcoming and kind! well, at least he portrayed that side of himself to you. you had once done a quick in-class study session together as part of an assignment, he was exceptionally shy but not a total freak. the rest of your classmates tended to avoid associating themselves with him, not wanting to be labeled as a friend of the peevish and perfectionist nerd.

you dragged your hands down your face before slouching over your laptop once more. you figured one study session with him wouldn’t be the end of the world, very much awkward but not a total disaster. your nails hit the keyboard, quickly typing until you’ve scrounged up a coherent email explaining your situation. you began skimming through the bold text, your eyes gliding across the luminant screen before clicking ‘send’.

it feels as though an additional weight has been added to your workload. you stretch your limbs, pressing your lips together before raising yourself out of your seat. you turn, heading to your bed when you hear a raucous noise coming from behind you. ding

sugurugeto : of course i can help. although, the library tends to be too crowded for me to focus.. could we study at your place? | 10:05pm

you stare at the screen for a while, narrowing your eyes, bringing your hand up to your frazzled face, harshly pressing it to your forehead. “is he fucking serious..?” you whine, letting a random nerd from your statistics class into your dorm room, were you crazy..? you contemplate your next move, going through numerous situations as you play them all out in your head. “ugh maybe i am crazy,” you groan while you type away at your computer, clicking send on your message reluctantly.

y/n : that’s understandable, if you don’t have any other study locations in mind then we could do so at my place. thank you for the help! | 10:15pm

sugurugeto : does tomorrow at 6pm sound good for you? | 10:16pm

y/n : that sounds good. i’ll send you my address, thank you | 10:23pm

you shut your laptop, refraining from relishing in this strange moment. you now have a study period tomorrow with suguru geto, you figured it wouldn’t be too bad. little did you know, suguru had the biggest crush on you. he had been eyeing you ever since you stepped through the door to your shared class. the tiny skirts you wore perfectly showed off your soft and delicate legs, always causing his mouth to water. the singular time you had spoke to him, he swore he was dreaming.. how could a pretty girl like you ever come near him?

when he received your email, he swears his heart stopped beating. was it some sort of scam or even worse, were you hacked..? he truly couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. he felt the butterflies in his stomach as his entire body shook like a leaf in the wind while he typed up his message.

when he suggested he go over to your place, it was partially true! crowds did frighten him a bit.. though, he did love the library. truthfully, he just wanted to see you in what he calls ‘your natural form’. — god what a loser. despite everything, even if you weren’t enthusiastic about your upcoming meetup with him, suguru was sure ready for your little study date, at least that’s what he viewed it as.

the following morning came and went hastily meanwhile you prepare yourself as well as your dorm for quite the guest. you whip your head towards your clock, its 6:15pm, where is this guy..?— ding! ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ you swiftly move towards the door, taking in a shaky breath before opening your room door with a soft smile.

“hello! i thought you might’ve gotten lost.. hah..uhh come sit!” you awkwardly motion towards your desk, you pull a chair out for him before subtly staring him down. he looked surprisingly normal, his outfit was fairly casual but his hair wasn’t tied up in his usual bun. his hair looked soft as it gently caressed his facial features, were his cheeks always so toned.. god his glasses really do make his nose look deli—

“y/n..? where did you want to start?” he repeated, dragging you out of your trance. “oh! anywhere, you can lead the pace.” you reply, shooting him a soft smile out of reassurance. you both settle in and get to work, hours going by as he grills you on multiple different lessons. you lean back in your chair letting out an exasperated sigh, “can we take a break please.. i might go crazy if i don’t,” you pout, eyebrows slightly raising when you hear his smooth laugh while he agrees in amusement.

“why don’t you leave your hair like this more often hmm?” you tease, twirling a small snippet of it with your fingers. his face flushes a bright red before wrapping his fingers around your wrist, halting your movements. “oh! i’m sorry i didn’t realiz—” . . . “can i kiss you?” he replies abruptly, he has a pathetic look on his face, almost like he’s begging.

“what..?” you question, you’re frozen with wide eyes. you’re shocked to say the least, suguru wasn’t necessarily hard to look at. he had a pretty face to him, a sharp jawline, and lustful purple eyes that really drag you in. “i- you’re just so pretty! a-and i’ve never been alone with a girl like this before..” he stutters shyly, you sort of feel bad for the guy. it’s clear how much of a virgin he is, you can’t recall a time where he’s even looked in a girls direction!

“seriously.. hah- just one time okay? i’m only doing this as a ‘thank you’ alright.” he nods excitedly, staring at you with longing puppy dog eyes. you remove his glasses, setting them on the desk before cupping his face gently with both of your hands as you pull him in and give him a soft kiss. you felt his breath hitch as you both pull back slightly, he looks away quickly while using both of his hands to cover his. . . crotch?

“don’t look!” he pleads, shifting his body away from you. you’re taken aback by his sudden tone of voice as well as his humiliated body language. your eyes narrow in on him, “suguru.. are you hard?” you ask, his face is tomato red and his eyes are wide like a deer in the headlights. he quickly grabs his glasses and his book bag that’s hanging on your chair before attempting to bolt for the door. “wait!” you yelp, grabbing his arm as you try to pull him back, “i-i’ll help you, just sit back down.”

you have no idea what’s gotten into you, all you can focus on is the fact that this nerdy perv is now sitting on your bed with his pants off as you’re on your knees in front of him, staring up at him with doe eyes. his shirt is lifted and the hem is tucked into his mouth. your hands reach for the waistline on his boxers, slowly pulling them down when his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. he’s whimpering while you stare intensely at his pretty curve and pink mushroom tip, pressing your thighs together at the pure sight of his lengthy cock.

“m’gonna touch you kay?” your lip is tucked between your teeth while he nods expectantly. you smear the pre-cum forming on his slit, a wad of spit leaving your mouth and dripping right on the head of his cock. your hand soon envelopes his tip, moving up and down in a twisting motion that causes his hips to buck.

“nngh- f-feels so good,” suguru whined, letting go the hem of his shirt as he brings a hand up to cover his lewd expressions. you bring your mouth to his cock head before pursing your lips, letting an obscene amount of spit dribble all the way down his shaft. he lets out a wet moan at the sight.

you’re planting harsh kisses down his length, licking and sucking periodically around his base. “want you to use my mouth kay? just want you t’a feel good,” you say seductively, licking your lips before you engulf his cock into your mouth, tongue flicking against his frenulum. “f-fuck! so w-warm.. nngh please!” he pleads, his heavy hand softly caressing your head as you began bobbing your head up and down on his hefty cock.

your hands firmly grip his thighs as he bucks his hips up further into your mouth causing you to gag, throat tightening around his shaft, earning an elated moan from him. “c-can i fuck your mouth p-please..?” he needly asks, eyebrows furrowed while he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. you stare up at him, batting your long eyelashes when you nod, humming around him.

he’s rutting his hips into your mouth, cock hitting the back of your throat deliciously. “y-yeah take it.. hah” he grumbles, you’re being starved for breath as spit drips all over the base of his cock, traveling down to his balls. “m’gonna cum! w-where do i—” he whines, you push his hands off and take initiative, suckling on his flushed tip while your free hand strokes the rest of his length. “o. . oh f-fuck m’cumming! d-don’t stop ah!” he pleads, his hand covering his own mouth, his eyelids fluttering as he’s cumming down your throat. you moan at the action, eyebrows furrowed as you swallow his thick fluids.

you pull off his cock, he winces at the friction before you climb on top of him, pushing him against the mattress, giving him a rough kiss. your tongue prodding against his, spit connecting your lips when you pull back. “feel good sugu?” you smirk, your smitten expressions fall when he flips the two of you over. “i- i wanna taste you, can i?” he replies, pawing at the waistband of your sweatpants in desperation.

“do you even know what you’re doing..” you question him, unsure if you really want to continue this relationship. “well n-no! not yet. . but you can teach me! i’ll be good i promise.” he’s practically begging you with pathetic heart eyes. you’re just so cute, he doesn’t know how to act anymore. “ugh.. fine just go slow ‘kay?” you whisper, hands covering your face out of embarrassment.

he’s pulling your sweats down, tossing them in the corner of the room. you’re wearing these pastel pink panties with lace on the borders, small print of roses and hearts all across the front, a small white bow in the center. suguru feels lightheaded, he could probably cum untouched if he stared long enough. he caresses your thighs, spreading them apart slowly as you feel his hot breath flowing against your clothed cunt.

his tongue escapes his mouth, licking a long stripe from the outline of your hole up to your mound. you’re letting out soft moans while he leaves sweet delicate kisses on your covered clit.

his nose pressing up against your cunt as he’s sucking and licking the fabric. “hah.. you smell so delicious, think m’gonna go crazy,” he groans, tonguing your clit through the cloth, earning loud yelps from you. “nngh! you’re so n-nasty.. ah!” you cry, your hips jerking up into his face.

he hooks his two hands into your panties before dragging them down your legs, tossing them near his sweats, hoping he’ll be able to take them home as a souvenir. “be gentle, if you go too fast it won’t feel good..” you whimper as you widen your legs, a hand coming down to spread yourself open for him to see. his mouth is beginning to water as he inches closer towards your dripping cunt.

“stop staring! j-just do it already!” you mewl, your hands coming up to cup your perky breasts. he rubs his thumb on your puffy clit, gently spitting on it before giving it a long suck. he's planting sloppy kisses all over your cunt, from your labias to your twitching hole. “so sweet mmf..” he moans into your pussy, delving back into your wet folds.

“i-inside! put a finger inside- hah..nngh!” you cry out, needing more stimulation. he slowly inserts his middle finger into your sopping wet cunt, it’s going in with such ease despite how thick his fingers are. he’s in awe at how well your pussy his swallowing him before testing the waters and squeezing in another finger.

“y-you’re so tight.. does it hurt?” he asks worried, he’s slowly thrusting his fingers inside you, the pace is almost agonizing. “no just- p-please keep going.. nngh,” you shake your head, begging him to continue as you feel yourself getting closer.

he’s putting his parched lips back onto your swollen clit, sloshing his tongue against it as he pistons his digits deep inside you. “ff-fuuuckkk.. right there suguru! m’gonna- ah!” you yawp, thighs tightening around his head while your hands grab fist fulls of his hair.

your cunt is dripping your slick all over his face and he’s gulping up every last drop. he’s humming little ‘mhm’ s as you ride out your orgasm on his broad nose. he pulls his thick fingers out of you , you stare down at his disheveled face. his glasses are crooked, hair a complete mess with your juices covering his face.

you sit up, crawling towards him, latching your hands onto his shoulders and kissing his fucked out lips harshly. “want you so bad.., can i? please sugu..” now you’re the one pouting and begging him for more. of course he’s nodding in agreement, he could never turn down a pretty little thing like you especially when you’re pleading for his cock.

you’re pushing him against the bed, plump thighs straddling his hips. “lemme make you feel good sugu- hah,” you whine, stroking his heavy cock before lining him up with your warm entrance, sinking yourself down on him.

his hands find your hips, grabbing onto them for dear life as your pretty pussy sucks him in. “s-slow please, you feel so good mnngh!” he moans, your hips rocking into his viciously. your pace is already so deadly for him, a virgin former virgin at that. “fuckk y/n p-please! i can’t- shiiiit. . s-so good mmf!” he babbles before being silenced by your dainty palm.

“f-fuck..just shut up- nngh!” you mewl, one hand silencing him while the other digs into his chest. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your sweet cunt milks him.

you’re letting out lewd moans meanwhile the melodious sound of skin slapping fills the room. your feet rest on top of his thighs, you’re bouncing up and down as your creamy pussy swallows his curvy cock justtt right.

your tired body leans flush to his chest, slowly grinding your hips together before you remove your hand from his mouth and landing a sloppy kiss to his lips. your tongues swirling together in unison, “wanna cum p-please y/n, wan’ it so bad nngh,” he cries, drawing a giggle out of you. how pathetic.

“yeah? c’mon give it to me big boy, want it all inside- hah..” you reply, biting your lip. he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist while he bucks his hips up into you, slick balls slapping against your ass. “ah! m’gonna cum sugu, r-right there!” you moan into the crook of his neck, leaving kisses behind his ear.

you finally gush all over him, your juices spraying all over his lower abdomen. “f-fuck you’re so tightt! m’cumming- hah.. mmf!” suguru rambles, his reddened tip releases thick white spurts into you as he pounds into your cervix. he’s cumming so hard he swears he’s seeing stars, only thing bringing him back down was your soft pleas for a kiss.

“kiss me suguru, p-please mmh,” you kiss him passionately, tongue moving its way throughout his mouth as you both grip onto each other, hungry for one another. you let go of him, caressing his pretty face before pulling apart to flop your body over next to him as you both struggle to catch your breath. you are sitting in comfortable silence until. .

“y/n? does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asks innocently, turning towards you, his thumb caressing your cheek.

you sigh, glueing your eyes shut. what a fuckin’ nerd

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! i might write little drabbles bout this duo in the future ^.^ their story definitely isn’t over.

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usedpidemo · 9 months ago

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Girlfriend experience (Twice Tzuyu)

“I need your help.”

You’re typing up your next application letter when you’re suddenly interrupted by Tzuyu’s familiar voice. “Sure, what’s up?”

There’s no way you’re turning down a request from Tzuyu.

She pauses for a moment, contemplating her next words carefully, knowing regardless of the outcome, everything will never be the same.

Then, she speaks.

“Can you be my boyfriend for a day?”

—————

You don’t take it seriously. For one, you know damn well you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Chou Tzuyu, let alone earn the coveted title of ‘boyfriend.’ It’s already a privilege to share rooms with her in college, how much more to be her personal tutor. Sure, she loves to mess around with you every now and then, but even by her standards, this is one joke too out there to make.

“Okay Tzu, very funny, but come to me when you actually need help with something,” you tell her, chuckling, unable to hide your toothy smile before returning to your computer screen.

You overlook the intent behind her stare.

“I’m serious. I really need someone to pose as my boyfriend for a day,” she replies, to the point. Another thing about living with Tzuyu is that she’s always straightforward. There’s no beating around the bush with her; everything she says is the truth. So why aren’t you taking her plea with a little more genuine concern?

“Yeah. Me. Your boyfriend. As if that’s gonna convince anyone,” you reply, typing away at your keyboard, unfazed by her statement. You still don’t buy it.

“Yes. I believe you can be my boyfriend.”

You laugh again. More sarcastic than amused this time. “Real cute, Tzu.” You face your roommate with an unamused grimace. “Now what do you want from me?”

“Do I need to slap you to prove I’m not lying?” Tzuyu returns your mockery with a contemptuous glare of her own.

Still under the impression that she’s toying with you, you playfully challenge her. “Sure. I don’t think you’re being serious—”

A thunderous echo ripples between the space between you and Tzuyu, immediately closing the gap. Everything happens in an instant. You’re sent swerving back, along with your swivel chair. A bright sore blot forms on your cheek, the pain not registering right away. A little more applied force on that hit and she would have dashed your head against the wall.

“Oh—damn.” You groan, pressing a palm on the reddened area, flush with blood, as if a bump had formed from the sharp impact. “All right, I believe you now.”

She’s shaking her head, her expression intense, humorless. “Now will you hear me out?”

“Yes!” you shout at her, inflection teetering on screaming, nodding your head in agreement.

“Great. Go fix up your face first, then I’ll explain everything,” she says before turning away and walking out the front door, leaving you on your own to fix yourself.

—————

Tzuyu doesn’t even come back to the apartment by the time you clean up yourself. It’s late in the evening when she bursts in, bringing a few pairs of freshly bought expensive outfits. It’s part of the package living with one of the richest women in your college. Her entire wardrobe is fitted with nothing but designer clothing, jewelry costing up to the hundreds of thousands, and tailor made outfits designed to fit only her and her alone. Her casual attire could be your Sunday best. Her pajamas could be your everyday wear. It’s as if her entire personality is to be a model—and if she were, she’d be the face of every brand and on the front cover of every fashion magazine in existence.

“I know this sounds outrageous, but I want you to be my boyfriend even for a day,” she repeats herself, the idea still too incomprehensible for your brain. You could listen to it again and again. For anyone, the thought is nothing but an impossible fantasy, but for Tzuyu to personally pick you, even if it's only make-believe, is something special.

You have more questions than answers. “Yeah, but why? Why do you want a boyfriend for a day?”

“I’m visiting my parents for the weekend. Well, I’m forced to.”

In contrast to her extravagant lifestyle, she’s sharing takeout chicken with you. More often than not, you eat the same food, with Tzuyu often deferring to you for choices. Usually fast food, it’s actually her preference.

“Okay, so what does this have to do with having a boyfriend?”

She takes a sip of her sake. “They expect me to have one by the time I graduate.”

“Okay and? What happens if you don’t?”

“Arranged marriage. I promised my parents that I would find a boyfriend by the time I turn 25. It’s how I got to be independent, how I got into college” —she faces you, her lovely eyes twinkling— “and how I met you.”

Observing Tzuyu, you notice a few details. The most obvious being that she’s pretty, even when chomping on a chicken leg’s bone. The second is her worried gaze. This is something that’s clearly been bothering her for a while. She has deferred to you countless times for multiple academic projects ranging from research to exams, each request building more and more trust, to the point where you’ve become her closest confidant, in addition to being her roommate. Unlike before, this is not a test with a defined system and something easily manipulated and planned for, and you can’t really prepare any better either.

On your end, she pays generously; you’re only applying for an internship because your course demands it. You could start your business with the money earned from helping her. But her payroll will eventually stop.

“Listen. We might never see each other again when we graduate in a few months, and I’m sure you’re tired of me asking for your help when you could be doing more,” she says, tone gloomy, nervous. “But this is more you being the only guy I can trust—this is my freedom on the line. Even if I mostly hated my time here, it’s still better than whatever life they want for me.”

You don’t question her reasoning, even if that last bit sounds hyperbolic. Surely it can’t be that bad. You and Tzuyu have a lot more in common than you realize: you don’t like the college grind, you’re both admittedly reclusive, and you’ll miss each other’s presence when the time comes.

“Couldn't you try getting someone as a stand-in? I’m not even in the top 100 most handsome guys in the student body. It’ll never fly.”

She chuckles, showing flashes of positive energy for the first time in a while. “Nope. They’d fumble the script so bad it wouldn’t be worth the shot. I’d figure since you’re like one of twelve people I constantly talk to, I could trust you to be a convincing enough boyfriend.”

“Does it have to be a boyfriend? Why not a girl?”

“I wish. I’d love to bring Sana along, and she’d be such a joy for them, but boomer parents, am I right?”

You both share a hearty laugh.

“Anyway,” Tzuyu puts away her plate, having finished her share of dinner to present you three shopping bags full of newly bought clothes. “These are all yours, just wear the one you like the most to our date. Plus I don’t think I ever bought you new clothes?”

“Nope, nope you haven’t.” You shake your head, remembering that your current computer setup, PS5, Lego collection, and closet full of jackets and joggers that’s been collecting dust in the corner of your room were all paid under Tzuyu’s name.

—————

“You never told me they were still living in Taiwan,” you say to Tzuyu, watching the ground from your airplane seat, which happens to be next to the wing. You’ve never been on a flight before—until now. Something you should have admitted, but your pride got in the way. “I thought you said they owned property here!”

Tzuyu blushes in shame. “Did I?” she questions herself, before suddenly recalling, “Oh yeah! I lived here when I was in fourth grade. It was only one year though. I loved my schooling here; they didn’t.”

None of what she said fully registers in your brain. What does occupy your head is the idea of plummeting 30,000 feet from the air. Even with all the safety measures, your mind races with a hundred scenarios ending in your sudden and tragic demise.

As the plane begins to move before eventually ascending, you can’t stare away as outside scenery turns into vague blurs sweeping by. In just a few moments, you’re so far high that you can only see clouds. It sends your brain into overdrive. Meanwhile, Tzuyu’s completely relaxed, having placed a sleep mask for the 15 hour flight to come. She doesn’t have to see at your worst, repeatedly cursing over the sound of music playing through her earphones. At least you’re comfortably secluded in first class, where each pair of passengers occupy their own private cabin for sleeping, eating, and even showering. No one can hear you scream.

The staff can’t come fast enough, even if closing the blinds is the simplest thing you can do.

—————

On arrival, Tzuyu’s surprises keep coming in droves. A personalized driver and car awaits at the airport’s exit, carrying all your luggage by himself. He’s got his own expensive suit, opening the rear passenger doors on your behalf.

“Welcome home, Miss Chou. And this companion of yours is?”

“My boyfriend,” she warmly tells the driver, eliciting a curious look from him towards you. You’re not doing anything wrong—yet—but you can tell by his expression that you’re not giving off a good first impression. “I’m taking him to meet my parents.”

“Of course. Where shall I drive you? Shall I take you directly to them today?”

“No. I’d like to spend the rest of the day at my own place.”

“Certainly. Penthouse it is.”

After a leisurely half-hour drive through the city, the car pulls up in front of a high-rise building. The front entrance alone can be its own five-star luxury hotel and resort. Tzuyu says only millionaires are able to buy and own flats here, which makes her ownership of the penthouse even more absurd. Only now you’re witnessing the fullest extent of her wealth after seeing brief flashes throughout college.

Her lavish penthouse welcomes you from the moment you step off the elevator. Despite being away for years, the place looks as good as new, well-maintained in her absence. Every single room is twice the size of your whole apartment back home, with countless amenities and utilities dedicated to a certain purpose. There’s up to five bedrooms, each decked with their own king-size mattress and as many bathrooms to accommodate up to four guests at a time. The whole setup is topped up by a background of the city skyline seen through floor wide glass windows.

You don’t really have any words to say at this point. You’re just soaking it all in, filled with wonder and awe.

“All this and you still chose to live in a regular ass dorm,” you comment, pressing one of the piano keys, its sound echoing all over the massive place. “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

“Didn’t really have a choice,” she says, pacing in and out of the rooms, her voice reverberating throughout the living room. “I had to get close to someone, and having my own place was not gonna help whatsoever.”

“Christ—” you mutter to yourself, still taken aback at how fucking expensive Tzuyu lives. Someone of her kind shouldn’t be pretending to act like everyone else—struggling to get by and having to grind their ass off. She doesn’t need anything beyond a high school diploma and some common sense; she should be enjoying herself, living a larger than life lifestyle that others will be jealous of.

Still, this shouldn’t be stressing her out. Despite her numerous rebuttals, she could have easily placed someone else in your shoes right now, someone more capable to face her seemingly stringent family.

You can only draw it up to rich people problems, something you’ll likely never experience in your lifetime.

“Would you like to go out for dinner later? Or would you like for us to just have delivery instead?” Tzuyu asks, approaching you with an endearing smile and an enticing offer: on her hand are a dangling pair of keys with a prancing horse etched on them.

She has you under her spell, if everything else wasn’t convincing enough.

“Name me a nice place to eat and I’ll think about it.”

—————

You end up staying out way later than intended.

It’s a miracle her car doesn’t have a single dent by the time you return to the condominium. In the time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, you’ve grown more comfortable with the girlfriend role given to you. You don’t even wait for the valet driver to open her side of the door; the act comes naturally. She steps out of the vehicle, one leg peeking through her dress, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She reaches out her hand for you to take, and it feels like a habit you’ve been doing for years.

You’ve gotten your fair share of jealous looks over the past few hours. Even now, bystanders in the front lobby are making a scene out of you being together. All of them are asking the same question: how does someone like you have a woman like Chou Tzuyu by your side.

Deep down, you recognize it’s an act, a part of the show. Tzuyu knows this too. She sells her parts like she’s selling her beauty: naturally well. On the other hand, you are showing tiny cracks on your face, only crumbling after you disappear from everyone’s view behind that elevator.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” she asks you, friendly and soft as ever.

You sigh, unable to find it in you to answer. Even as you open your mouth, you lack the conviction to give off a confident response, and it shows in your word choice. “Maybe.”

Tzuyu furrows an eyebrow, frowning. “What’s up?”

You can’t even look at her as you talk, only finding some semblance of relief watching the city from your view. Lovely, just like Tzuyu. “What if this doesn’t work,” you tell her, tone low, evidently anxious. What if—”

“Don’t overthink it,” she turns you toward her, brushing a hand up and down your shoulder. For a moment, you see her eyes gleam with the night life’s reflection. “Even if it all goes horribly wrong, the blame completely falls on me. Remember that.”

“I might never see you again. Hell, you might never go back,” you reply, your doubts not quelled in the slightest. Neither of you care that you’ve got your hands on each other, unwilling to let go.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she says, unfazed by your pessimism. “At least I made up for everything you’ve done for me, including this.”

“Really? As if you haven’t been doing that since I first helped you—”

Tzuyu laughs, her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I got nothing better to spend it on. Might as well do it on someone who actually deserves it.”

You’re not sure whether to feel elated or flattered by that statement. Your rosy cheeks say the former. Perhaps this is a consequence of spending way too much time with her, or that you’ve been putting plenty of investment in your role. Either way, you’re better off spending the remainder of your night not overthinking about it. It’s been a long day.

“I’m going to bed. It’s getting late, and you said we’re getting picked up early tomorrow.”

“Right. I completely forgot, too. I guess we must have been having too much fun together, huh?”

Neither of you even bring up the fact that you were holding each other close the entire time, bordering on romance. It’s probably for the best.

—————

“Hey.”

Tzuyu’s feathery voice brings your attention back to reality. For most of the ride, you’ve been mindlessly staring out the window. From passing cars to idle trees, from long stretches of highway to winding mountain roads. Chatter inside the vehicle passes through your ears like radio static. Thoughts racing in your mind comprise numerous outcomes and what-ifs, none of which you’re able to see the ending. Never mind the fact that she’s looking her most divine, her most prim, perfectly suited for such a special occasion. The less you think about what’s ahead, the better.

She doesn’t make it any easier, especially when she’s leaning forward with her seatbelt, her warm expressions invoking sweet innocence and genuine concern. Her fingers are twiddling with yours, gripped to the leather seats, trying to get as much of your interest. “You all right?”

You swallow down a nonexistent lump in your throat. “I’m fine. What is it?”

“My parents are asking what your favorite food is so they can prepare it for you.”

“Tell them I like beef,” is your immediate response before looking out the window again. She doesn’t press you any further, thankfully leaving you with your thoughts for the rest of the drive.

The car eventually stops in front of a large gate. Not a sign of security in sight, except for a pair of cameras positioned on both ends. After a brief scan, the entryway opens of its own accord. You’ve left the city so far behind, you might as well be high above the sky.

A couple more miles of driving till you finally reach your destination: a large mansion with a fountain statue in front of the entrance. A dozen expensive cars are parked right outside, all covered in sheets for safety. None of these details are surprising considering you’ve previously seen Tzuyu’s wealth firsthand. You’re starting to believe the rumors about her being the heiress of some business empire are true.

The driver needlessly announces that you’ve arrived before he steps out to open the passenger doors—Tzuyu first, then yours.

To think you’d end up getting involved in family affairs straight out of a soap opera.

Tzuyu looks you in the eye, reaching out her hand with a reassuring nod. No words, just shared confidence and a slither of hope between you both. Despite the initial hesitation, you hold her and together, you enter the unknown.

Inside, more lavish decor greets you everywhere. Stuff that’s more alienating than welcoming. It’s a daunting presence being here that you end up forgetting to remove your shoes before entering, despite the butler’s admonishment. Tzuyu ends up snapping you back, and you quickly swap your footwear for theirs before advancing. Mercifully, there’s only two pairs of eyes in the room watching, but one is observing you through a harsh gaze.

The servant leads you out to a garden where you finally get a glimpse at Tzuyu’s parents for the first time. Also laid out on the lawn is a large table with different kinds of food being prepared by other butlers. Unsurprisingly, she runs ahead to greet them, leaving you on your own to introduce yourself to them.

“Welcome home, Tzu,” says both Papa Chou and Mama Chou to their daughter while she runs to her father, throwing a huge bear hug. She gives her mother a similarly loving embrace after.

Meanwhile, you’re taking little steps down the stairs to the garden, continually reminding yourself not to fuck up.

“Oh! Right—” Tzuyu looks in your direction, notices your plodding pace. She’s pointing you out to her parents like you’re the most important person in the room. “That—that’s my boyfriend over there.”

At this point, you can easily fold a dozen different ways. Piss your pants, shit on them, run away like a spotted convict. You know as much about her family as anyone else in your position; the information given to you is incredibly scarce and vague at best. But you’re bound to Tzuyu’s hand like a string to a yarn. Your only saving grace is the hope that this event is a quick dine and drive and not some grandiose festivity.

It doesn’t help that the entire time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, not a single minute was spent on acting like her boyfriend.

All eyes fall upon you. It should have been a familiar feeling, something you can easily adjust to, but it isn’t. This is different. It’s not the same as being around friends and no-name strangers. Family judgment lingers on, especially after you’re through. Every little move counts.

Bowing to her parents, you pull your attempt at a friendly smile, falling somewhere between the line of goofy and awkward. “Great to meet you, Papa and Mama Chou.”

Your ‘girlfriend’ looks at you with a heightened sense of pride, convincing enough to be sincere. She’s hard carrying you in the acting department. Smiling more softly, she adds, “Shall we eat?”

—————

You and Tzuyu are seated opposite her parents on the large table, with a scrumptious feast filling in the space between. Food is eaten in small increments, with most of the lunch spent on lengthy conversation. It’s more of an interrogation and less of a friendly scene.

“So—how did you meet?” asks Papa Chou, tone as typical of a protective father, cold, calculated, and stern.

“He was my roommate when I got into university,” Tzuyu replies, constantly shooting quick glances at you, eating your share leisurely. Both of you agreed that unless asked, she’d take on the role of your mouthpiece. You’re nodding; you’d say the same thing—and it’s one of the few things that’s true. “It was a chance encounter.”

“A roommate? As in—you moved into a dorm?”

“Not exactly a dorm, but an apartment close to campus. The dorms were too small to fit all my stuff in.”

“You should have just moved into the dorms,” he says, aggressively munching his meal between sentences. “How can you sleep peacefully at night knowing he’s just right next door?”

“All right, let’s not offend our guest here.” Mama Chou interjects, trying to change the course of the conversation. You’d immediately refute him if your mouth isn’t filled with food at the moment. She faces you, asking, “So, how long have you been dating?”

Now you’re swallowing hard, caught off-guard by the surprise question aimed at you. Tzuyu’s hands are tied; she’s watching, but she won’t be saving you.

“About three years,” you say, staring back at your ‘girlfriend,’ looking for a lifeline by simply staring at her. You’re in love; no you’re not. “Some of our schedules overlapped too, so we helped each other out.”

“Yeah,” adds Tzuyu, nodding in agreement. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have passed some of my classes. If nothing else, he’s been nothing but kind and gracious to me.”

“That’s great to hear.” Mama Chou smiles; she’s clearly the friendlier and more approachable of the two parents so far. “I’m glad our daughter has a friend she can trust in college. But do you not have other friends too?”

“I’ve made a few friends besides him too.” Tzuyu interjects, stepping in right as you’re about to continue speaking. She presents a photo of her social circle at a restaurant, consisting entirely of the women she’s close with, including a fellow Taiwanese student. You met most of them because of her. “I hang out with the girls more than him, so don’t worry.”

“They’re all pretty.” Mama Chou looks at the picture with delight. On the other hand, Papa Chou remains stone faced and unimpressed. She’s pointing her finger at the girl to her daughter’s right. “Especially her.”

“Oh, her? That’s Sana from Japan. She’s my best friend actually,” replies Tzuyu, grinning toothily recalling her. “And the two behind her are Japanese too—Momo and Mina.”

“So it’s a multinational university? That’s cute.”

“We’re still few and far between,” she corrects, putting away her phone. “It’s just that we happened to enter university at the same time, and we’re all foreigners, so we bonded through our shared experience living far from home. We’ll be graduating together in a few months.”

Her mother continues to nod concurrently, turning her attention away from her daughter to you again. “So what happens after you graduate? What are your plans?”

Initially, you hesitate, reaching a crossroads. You can follow the broad outline given by Tzuyu: something about opening a restaurant franchise, following her family’s footsteps in running a business empire, or say it as it is.

“I—don’t really know to be honest,” you tell her, glancing at Tzuyu, and she blinks rapidly, her smile wobbling. To everyone else, she looks calm otherwise. “I’m focusing on my studies right now, and I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“What course are you taking?”

“Mechanical Engineering. I want to work with cars and all that.”

“So you like cars, hm?” Papa Chou interrupts, leaning his head forward with intrigue. “Tell me—you watch F1? You better be!”

“Absolutely!” You’re staring at him, taking control over the conversation, growing comfortable with your newfound position.

“What’s your team? You better not say Red Bull or Ferrari.”

“McLaren.”

“Driver?”

“Lando.”

He laughs—heartily. He’s offering his hand for you to shake, which you do. You’re then tugged forward by the harsh tug of his grip, much to the amusement of everyone else. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Before you know it, you’re being pulled aside and dragged away from Tzuyu and her mom, leading you to the other side of the mansion.

—————

“Good God,” you say, your jaw agape, blown away at what Papa Chou is presenting you: an orange McLaren F1 tucked away inside an enormous garage filled with other luxury cars. “This—this is my dream car.”

“Handsome, right?” He’s leaning by the door, grinning like a child. “It’s got a thousand miles on it too. Wifey doesn’t really like it, though. Says it takes up too much space in the garage.”

“Shit—sorry for my language—how’d you end up buying this?” you ask, swinging open the opposite butterfly door, admiring the interior. “There’s just no way this is real—”

“It’s as real as real gets.” He cuts you off, chuckling at your utter disbelief. “I bought it off some English comedian, then I had it restored and repainted. Says he’s crashed it a few times. Maybe he has, as you kids say, skill issue.”

“So—why are you showing me this?” you ask, turning to him as you’re both seated on opposing passenger sides.

“I was going to give this away to the one who was supposed to marry her,” he says, holding his side of the steering wheel. “But she wanted to live away from us. Very far away.”

You raise your eyebrows, curious.

“Tzuyu is a good person. She’s kind, compassionate and looks after those she’s close with. But she’s also blunt and to the point,” he continues, facing you mid-conversation. “If she feels that something is wrong, she won’t hesitate to call it out. She doesn’t care whether you’re friend or family. She trusts her intuition first above everything. So for her to have a boyfriend only means one thing: she really has full confidence in that person.

“I think you’re a good guy, and I thank you for helping her. But I don’t want my daughter to come home with a broken heart. I would tell you to leave her alone, but I don’t think she would want me to say that. So, I only want you to promise me this one thing.”

“And that is?”

“Make her feel she’s not alone.”

You blink. Again. A few times for good measure. There’s a lot to comprehend and digest, even when it’s been simplified to a simple promise. You’re not sure whether you can agree to that. It may be a straightforward command, but it’s one with a lot of weight borne on its shoulders.

“Promise me that you won’t leave her alone when you go back. Believe me when I say I haven’t seen her face shine that bright in years. I want to see my daughter smiling like that again when she comes home in the future. So I know she’s in good hands. Make sure she does not regret her decision.”

You look away, hesitant, uncertain whether this is still all for show or a genuine reminder. Now you realize how deeply connected you are to Tzuyu. You don’t remember life before meeting her, and you can’t imagine a life after her.

“I will.”

It isn’t the answer you want to give. You’re still trying to fully grasp everything. However, it is the answer that he wants to hear.

—————

After lunch, you and Tzuyu are left to your own devices. Your private talk with her father is played off as a fun discussion about his love for cars, completely disregarding the actual content of your conversation. Probably for the best; such an occasion demands a positive vibe overall. You spend the afternoon exploring their gigantic mansion, amazed by the vastness of the place over the grandiose material taking most of the space. If not for the presence of a butler at every corner, you can easily get lost for days.

“How long did you live here till you moved out?” you ask Tzuyu, examining a childhood photo of her with her family, including someone you haven’t met—her brother.

“Lived here during my teens. Was homeschooled throughout my primary years. Moved out when I was sixteen entering senior high.” She notices you taking a hold of her family picture, particularly noting her brother. “He’s also studying abroad, too. Not as far away as me, but still far from home.”

“Does he know?” You turn to Tzuyu, lifting an eyebrow.

“Of course he does,” she says, facing you with that trademark gummy smile. “He thinks you’re cute, if you’re wondering.”

“No, no. I meant—”

“Oh—sorry I misunderstood,” she replies, laughing, blushing with embarrassment. “But he was the one who convinced me to move out. He told me if I don't experience everything for myself, then I’m not living.”

You agree. You’re worlds apart, from completely different backgrounds, different upbringings. And yet, you’ve been brought together by some divine intervention, finding common ground to stand on.

“So—what did my dad tell you in private?” she asks, her eyes wandering back to the photo, lasering in on her father.

You pause, reluctant to reveal the truth, even if she’ll most likely believe you. “Not much. Just showed me his car collection.”

She grins. Innocent as it may look, she knows that’s not the full truth. “He told you something about me, didn’t he?”

Your heart is racing. For how dependent she is on you, she can be rather intelligent and clever.

“He definitely told you something. I just know.”

Tzuyu looks around and finds no one in sight. After double checking, she takes you by the wrist, dragging you along. She moves quickly, even through her heels. She takes you up the stairs and into an unexplored room, releasing you forward without care once inside. While you’re staggering and struggling to stay planted on your feet, she shuts the door behind you both and locks it.

There are no cameras in the room to catch you, and the blinds are completely closed off. It’s just you two again.

“That’s quiet enough.” Tzuyu steadily approaches you with a new demeanor—a straight, serious attitude reminiscent of her father. “I shouldn’t have to ask twice. What did my dad tell you?”

You were going to explain everything without the extra theatrics anyway, but admittedly you’re now feeling more secure to admit in private. Their security cameras can catch strange sights, but not sounds. Hell, maybe the little stunt she pulled could be more suspicious than anything else.

“He told me to look after you. Make you feel not alone,” you say, unable to look her directly in the eye, your gaze wandering left and right. “He also said that you’re in good hands because of me.”

Tzuyu remains silent, only staring right at you as she draws ever closer. She doesn’t know exactly how to react or what to say in light of your confession. You can tell the moment the wind in her sails has been knocked out: when you said love.

“How did he come to that conclusion?” she asks, the gap between you only breaths apart.

“He said that you trust your intuition more than anything,” you reply, tone low but straight, mustering the strength to meet her halfway. “And that you haven’t been smiling like that for so long.”

She furrows her eyebrow, taken aback by the last statement. “Really? He did not—”

“He really did. I’m just telling you everything as I heard it,” you say, grinning through your teeth, laughing. There goes the little tension between you.

“Can he not—” Tzuyu cracks, strutting around you, toward the lone king-sized bed similar to the one in her penthouse. “He literally calls me all the time. Hell, he was calling me the night before our flight. Don’t believe him.”

“I won’t,” you reply, still chuckling.

Your gaze wanders down her baby blue dress, perfectly fit and tailored for her light frame. The lengthy skirt flows around her legs like water. As is her long hair, a mixture of black and brunette. You don’t have to state the obvious, but you still feel the need to say it: Tzuyu is incredibly pretty. She’s been hearing that from everyone from the moment she was born. No amount of repetition can truly describe how attractive she looks, like this one occasion was designed specifically for her.

“So—he says I trust my intuition more than anything,” she mutters, glancing around the room. The bedroom belongs to none other than Tzuyu herself. It’s the place she grew up in, and she feels nostalgia being inside it after being gone for so long. Her hands brush along the edge of the mattress, deep in thought. “I never really thought of it like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. But he’s right about one thing,” she says, turning around to face you. She’s taking a good look at you from the neck down, and for the first time in your life, you’re dressed like someone worthy of a person like her. “I do love you.”

Before you even have a second to react, everything goes off. She catches your lips with hers. It’s instantaneous.

Her hands take hold of your body, still unsure of what to do. You know exactly what to do, though, and that’s to give in. You don’t give it a second thought. You yield to her touch and melt into her passionate kiss, pressing deeper and exploring her shapely figure in return. You’re pulling on each other’s clothes and skin, unwilling to let go.

You can taste the pent-up need on each other’s lips.

Yeah, you love her too, actually.

You love her dress too—not only because baby blue perfectly suits Tzuyu like butter on bread, but also because it leaves her back exposed to your touch. She hums, whines into your lips, sucking on air between hungry kisses, taken by surprise of this new sensation. In response, she’s tugging on your dress coat, pushing it off your shoulders and down to the floor.

“How long have you wanted to tell me that?” you mutter, breaking off the kiss, hot air pressed against her mouth.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” she replies, grinning through her sweet lips.

“I never said I love you though. Like at all.”

“But I can tell by the way you’re kissing me.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. I’ve seen Sana kiss you like this.”

“And? Does that bother you?”

Her grin is turning into a wicked smirk. Slowly but surely.

“Not at all. I’ve been telling you right from the start: it should have been her, not me.”

She shakes her head. “You want me to hurt Dahyun’s feelings by bringing Sana along? You heartless fuck.”

A new can of worms has just been opened up. None of which was ever in the equation till now. You regret stopping such an intimate moment for this conversation.

“It’s either that or you lose me forever,” she says, breaking the brief gap of silence. “And what could hurt you more?”

Nothing. The answer is nothing, but you don’t want to directly admit it. You need Tzuyu.

So you end up kissing her again, and she graciously returns the love twofold. She needs you just as much. You’re both meant for each other, and this is the sign.

You push her onto the bed, maintaining the connection as you continue to explore each other’s clothed bodies. In any other situation, all your clothes would be scattered everywhere, and even in her childhood home, you’re both more than willing to make the move. It’s dangerous, yes, but that’s what makes it fun and exciting. After all, she said it herself; if she wasn’t trying, she wasn’t living.

“Wait.” Tzuyu mumbles against your mouth, gently pushing you off. You’re halfway through pulling the zipper on her back when she suddenly snaps the link in half. You take the hint and clamber off.

Seeing Tzuyu flat on her back in bed, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, is a sight a thousand pictures worth taking. Your fingers are anxiously waiting, trembling in anticipation on the corner of your pants, ready to flip at the drop of her word. But then—

“Let’s not. I mean, I don’t wanna say it, but this is just a little too fast for my liking,” she says, glancing around her bedroom. It would certainly be a strange feeling to get fucked in her childhood room, among other things. “Plus you know—”

She’s pointing to the locked door behind you. While you both hear nothing at the moment, you never know who’s right around the corner.

Wistfully, you sigh in despair. She sits up and pats you on the head.

“Sorry. I want it as much as you do, but not here. I almost let my thoughts get the best of me,” she says regretfully.

“I understand,” you reply, defeated and crestfallen, despite her efforts to comfort you.

Turning your head back, you find Tzuyu slipping a hand between her dress, fishing for the panties from her legs. She pushes them past her heels and places them beside her on the bed.

Aware of the consequences of what’s about to happen, she looks at you with an inviting smile.

—————

“Oh—oh fuck—” whines Tzuyu, her thighs spread wide between your hungry, ravenous tongue. She’s lying flat on the floor, giving you full access to her cunt, but with one condition: that her bed is not to be messed with in any capacity. Of course you took her up on that offer without hesitation; it’s the easiest thing in the world to avoid when the space between the door and the mattress is just as long as the steps between the back garden and the mansion.

And as much as you want to tear through her dress and feel her pale, creamy skin, you still have to meet people looking as fresh as you possibly can. You’re telling yourself this will be a quick affair, an appetizer for what’s to come later in the night.

Except your brain says otherwise.

Your tongue flickers against Tzuyu’s aching core in bursts. Slamming her eyes shut, she whines and whimpers. Her nails dig into the carpet floor, nerves trembling and convulsing with each flat lick and press on her wet cunt. It’s evident in how violent her body reacts that she’s new to this feeling, something she’ll have to get used to.

Meanwhile, you’re having a feast. You’re lapping away at her dripping pussy, taking every little drop of slick into your mouth, and she’s so generously soaked. Despite her reluctance, you’re pulling her creamy thighs against your face, wanting her to suffocate you—to utterly ruin you. Even at her most vulnerable, she’s still as careful and dainty as ever. A good girl, like her father says.

You wonder how he’ll look at both of you after this.

“Mm—please, I don’t wanna hurt you—” she mewls, making an effort to resist your push despite the constant surge of pleasure coursing through her body. Her lashes flutter as she struggles to open her eyes.

“I can take it—just give in—” you tell her, your voice muffled into her skin as you hungrily continue to eat her out. “You taste so fucking good.”

Tzuyu eventually folds. Gives in to ecstasy and lets herself go. You’re forcing these deep, whiny bursts from her mouth as you drag your tongue on her clit, satisfying her most sensitive spots. Her cries echo throughout the room, past the large doors. It’s a dangerous place to be caught in, but you’re so close to drawing everything out from her. You don’t regret a single moment. As much as you want to pull out and replace it with your fingers, she tastes too good for your greedy mouth to share. You’re going to drink her for all her worth.

Her voice cracks with every flick you give; her breaths grow frantic. At this point, the pleasure is becoming too much to bear; she can only grip the carpet tile and brace for impact. She’s quivering as your fingers join your tongue in parting her cunt to be taken and used. It sounds sympathetic when she moans a high-pitched cry, declaring, “Gonna cum—fuck!”

It doesn’t deter you in the slightest. Hell, it only encourages you more.

Except you don’t get the pleasure of replying or gloating, because she cums. Hard.

You do, however, earn the gratification of laying your tongue flat on her cunt when her body locks, before violently crashing. Torrential waves of slick gush all over your needy, thirsty tongue. You lap it up—every last drop, even as it spills onto the carpet floor, drenching your face and the area around her crotch. Her moans come out in waning hoarse bursts, trying to keep your little secret as hidden as possible. In reality, it was obvious to anyone with a functioning ear and a respectable distance away. The locked door was a nonfactor.

Despite your reluctance, you slowly pull away from her heavenly core, licking your messy lips clean, saving the remains with your fingers.

Still, the desire remains. You’re leaving soft kisses down her thighs, watching Tzuyu depleted of strength as the fallout from her orgasm persists. Unable to find the strength to regain her composure, her eyes remain glued shut, her jaw slack, her breaths heavy. Her arms find solace in each other, folded and held close to her stomach, as if in utter pain, when it’s really just your tongue. “Oh God—”

“How does it feel, Tzu?” you say before kissing her smooth skin.

She struggles to breathe, let alone utter a single word. By the way her lips curl into a satisfied smile, you can conclude that she enjoyed every moment. Rolling over to her side, even in this flushed, broken state, her profile looks so beautiful. To think she wakes up like this every single day.

Suddenly, you hear a loud knock on the door, followed by a prompt call. “Miss Tzuyu—your parents are looking for you.”

The blunt voice instantly springs Tzuyu back to life, immediately ignoring the crash from her climax. “Shit,” she sharply mutters, looking over to the bed where she thinks her panties lie, but are actually in the pocket of your suit jacket. “Do you think they—”

You fire back a mischievous glare, complete with matching playful face.

This was her idea after all; you were just following along.

—————

Waiting by the same vehicle you arrived in, you’re about to be driven back to her penthouse. The sun setting has begun setting down, and you both have a few days in Taiwan before flying back home. Tzuyu’s with her parents at the front door, giving them one last hug and kiss goodbye.

It’s only a brief exchange. She quickly rejoins you with a quick peck on the cheek. Looking past her are the waves of her family wishing you safe travels.

“What did they say? Where’s the driver?” You ask Tzuyu, curious about the lack of a butler.

Smirking, she jingles a pair of keys in her hand like it's her personalized bell. “We’re not taking this car back.”

“Then what is our car then?”

She presses a button, and your attention is immediately diverted by the roar of a powerful engine. A familiar two-door coupe pulls up directly in front of the entrance.

You face Tzuyu, then to her dad, who simply motions his hand out to the car. She hands over the keys before walking ahead, swinging open one of the butterfly doors. “It’s already rush hour, so unless you wanna be late for our dinner date—”

You immediately rush past her and into the driver’s seat, revving up the engine. “Okay. Get in.”

—————

As the Chou property quickly disappears from the rearview mirror, you glance at Tzuyu, realizing something seems off.

There’s no emotional goodbye, no formality—just a brief exchange and then you’re sent off, just like that.

“There’s no dinner date right?” you ask her, your attention primarily focused on the winding, curving road ahead. Even with your brief experience behind the wheel of a fast car, this older one in particular requires more skill and direct input. “Surely you didn’t book one on the same day as—”

Tzuyu doesn’t respond, only leaning back on the passenger seat. A cursory glance reveals the curl of her lips as she seemingly falls asleep.

“You’re quite naughty, you know that?” you comment, nudging her elbow, eliciting a laugh out of her. “What happened to the so-called ‘princess’ of the Chou family?”

“You know why I even bothered to come home, right?” she replies, opening her eyes and staring directly into you. “I don’t miss it that much.”

You can only chuckle in response.

“And yes—we don’t have a dinner date if you’re wondering,” she adds, her cheeky grin shifting into a coy, taunting smirk. “Really smart of you to realize that I wanted to leave before we are forced to stay overnight, or even worse.”

“I’ve spent better days in worse.”

She lowers her eyebrows. “Seriously—” she says, before immediately hesitating, thinking of another way to prove her point, when suddenly, “You should be thankful they didn’t notice the panties in your pocket.”

“And you should be thankful they didn’t notice the screams coming from the bedroom,” you retort.

“I was trying to hold back, dipshit.”

“That was you holding back?” You laugh hard at her half-hearted attempt of an excuse, seeing as you have a front row seat at how she crumbled. “Then what about when I fucking ate you out and you were cumming all over me? What was that?”

“You’re no better; what about those mumbles I hear at night, huh?” she says, tone hostile, altering her voice to mock yours as she continues, “Why do I sometimes hear my name in your room, huh? ‘Fuck—Tzuyu—you’re so tight Tzuyu—I’m gonna cum Tzuyu—’ Huh? What was that? You degenerate.”

“It’s none of your business, Tzuyu.”

“Maybe dad was right—I should have just had my own apartment!”

The car accelerates, its roar the loudest thing for miles. You’re blitzing through the freeway, speed cameras and fines be damned. Had conversation happened minutes earlier, when you were climbing down the mountains, neither of you would be talking right now.

“You don’t believe that.”

“You’re right—I don’t!” Tzuyu shouts before looking away. She doesn’t care anymore.

You stop twisting the knife, refocusing your priority on not intentionally driving the car into a lamppost this late into your journey.

So when you finally arrive at her apartment complex, neither of you hop out immediately. There’s a valet waiting in the wings to take over, but you’re not letting the world move on until you come to some form of compromise.

“Fine. I’m sorry Tzu. I just thought you didn’t like your parents that much—”

“I don’t,” she interjects, facing you again, her features cold and stern. Again, much like her father. “I’m just glad we got all that behind us without any issues.”

“And what about the whole ‘you heard me jerking off to you’ thing?”

“Still gross. If you weren’t helping me in my studies, I wouldn’t have asked for your help had I known sooner. Pervert.”

“Ouch.”

It’s more of a mock than a devastating admission to your character.

“Too late for that, though, sadly,” she says, sighing, both half-joking and half-serious. “Look, let’s just get this over with and pretend after that this never happened.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I’m so tired, I just wanna lie down and forget about all this.”

Neither of you realize you can be heard by the waiting valet driver. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“Are we really just gonna gloss over this issue—”

“It’s a non-issue. We didn’t get caught, you’re just being a dude. I know. I’ve been with worse guys. Now let’s go.”

—————

Despite her request, it's not as easy as it sounds. The touching, the kissing, the passion—it’s as real as real gets.

The same can be said about Tzuyu; behind the callousness and seeming apathy is a pent-up need and genuine desire.

You both emerge from the elevator already on each other’s bodies, wrestling for control, your suit jacket already on the metal floor. Her nails leave sharp, scathing marks on your skin, measuring you up. She’s loosening up the buttons on your shirt as you pin her against a wall, then lead her into one of the five bedrooms. As much as you want to break loose, she has you bound by the neck, making sure your lips never leave hers.

“So this is why you don’t want to hurt me,” you mutter, breath hot against hers, pressing a finger on your freshly clawed neck.

“Sorry,” Is all that she can say, and in your eyes, that’s more than enough.

“First kiss, first sex, and first argument all in one day. We’re really moving fast as a couple, huh?”

Tzuyu giggles. “I guess we’re a match made in heaven after all.”

Soon you’re back to making out, fueled by the need for each other’s lips. Despite your bodies crashing onto the bed, you’re still madly kissing each other. Running down the last of your buttons, she pops your shirt open in half, which you slip off. Pulling her back to your level, you kiss down her chin and suck on her neck, releasing a soft, airy whine from her delicate lips. She tilts her head up, opening more of her porcelain skin for the taking.

Every part of Tzuyu tastes perfect.

Meanwhile, your hands take lease of her back, roaming the exposed parts of her dress. Dabbling with the fabric, you finally pull on the zipper, the garment loosening, freeing, the feeling liberating. For the most part, Tzuyu has always been conservative, even in her most formal outfits. A slit in her dress for a leg at best. Beneath lies some white lace and matching panties, her crop top revealing more tummy than you’ve ever anticipated.

You’re getting more than what you’ve bargained for, and her figure is so mouthwatering.

With the top half of her dress bundled on her waist, you throw her back down on the mattress, biting on her collarbones. She’s panting, breaths frantic, her hands wrapped around your back, her muscles jolting with every little kiss. Raising a leg close to your hip, she’s softly muttering sweet nothings, whispering, eventually revealing what’s really on her mind. ‘I want you’— she mumbles, her dainty tone making your pulse race, tilting her head to the side to let you conquer more of her lithe body, which you happily do.

It’s been a long day. You could honestly stay in this position forever—your limbs twisting and tangling in a messy harmony, your bodies pressed together, finding solace and comfort in each other’s warmth.

Tzuyu squirms beneath, lightly pushing you away. Taking the hint, you relent. Lo and behold, half her neck and collarbones are swollen red, your handiwork. While she gathers much needed air for her lungs, you use this brief moment of respite to slip the remainder of her dress down her slender legs before tossing the garment aside to be forgotten. Your trousers end up joining them on the floor shortly after.

Even in this vulnerable state, Tzuyu looks so breathtakingly beautiful. Her perfect side is always on display, no matter what angle.

“Tell me what you want baby,” you whisper on her skin, leaving soft, more delicate kisses on them. Knowing how fragile she is, you’re making sure you don’t flatten her whenever you go down on her.

“I just want you,” she whines, her eyes slammed shut and body writhing, even without any contact. She’s already trembling at the mere thought of you.

“Be more specific, Tzu,” you command her gently. Sliding down your boxers, your aching cock can finally breathe from its constraints. You press a finger on her panties, and even through them, you can tell she’s soaked. Still, as much as you want to undo them, you want her to do the honors. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want your cock,” she replies, tossing and turning left and right. So wanton, so desperate. She slides down her panties for access, prompting you to hover above her. “Give it to me. I’ve wanted you to fuck me me for so long.”

“How long?” You toy with her, positioning your cock directly between her entrance, the tip lining against her dripping slit.

“Since earlier,” she whines, feeling the tease, the slow burn, the knife being twisted in her gut. She can’t do anything about it. “Please—just put it in, already.”

The smirk on your lips can’t grow any wider. “I don’t believe you. How long have you really wanted this?”

Tzuyu moans, moans, and moans, much to your delight. Despite her efforts to suppress herself, she inevitably folds. “I don’t care—just fuck me already, will you? I’ve touched myself listening to you. Is that what you wanna hear? I don’t care anymore—just—stick that thing inside me already!”

You didn’t think she would spill the beans this easily. Her wantonness and impatience—it speaks volumes. It’s arousing, makes your ears perk in excitement. A win is a win, after all.

Grabbing her waist, you slide your cock into her entrance—painstakingly slow, slowly setting yourself on fire. Even the slightest flex and push against your shaft could break you in half. Holding your breath, every moment growing more tense as she envelops you in her suffocating warmth. It doesn’t help that her legs clench around your hips, binding you with her for good.

There’s only one way this could end.

“Oh fuck—” you groan, slamming your eyes shut as your cock buries deep in her sopping cunt. An echoed cry rips through the vast room, a fine blend between your voices. She feels so good, so tight, so invitingly hot. Finding some semblance of control proves to be a challenge as her pussy convulses around your cock. The look in her eyes when they flutter open, her jaw slack, her brows shifting, the moan escaping her lips—it’s better than anything your imagination can project.

You draw your hips back, against the constricting hold Tzuyu has on you—both physically and mentally. Her hands are all over you—gripped on your nape, on your skull, roaming your back. She’s holding on you so tight; she needs you more than oxygen right now.

Slowly but surely, you push back in, pumping her cunt in deliberate, purpose filled strokes. She moans, reduced to merely a string of profanity-laced bursts. Pressing your temple against hers, you admire how undeniably pretty she looks, even when you have her pinned like this. It goes without saying that Tzuyu is an absolute beauty, a goddess made human, and how fortunate you are to sully and defile her.

It’s the perfect sight for sore eyes, an idyllic escape from the fiery sensation in your stomach.

“So—so gorgeous, Tzu—” you mutter, leaving a chaste peck on the tip of her nose, your moans going back and forth, perfectly paced with your hips rocking against hers. You’ve never felt this uniform, this perfect together. “So fucking wet—and tight—”

She’s far too engrossed in pleasure to move, let alone say a word. You can feel the kick from her thighs, their coil around your waist, demanding more. Faster. Harder. Without the need to vocalize them. As comfortable as you are, your primal instincts are encouraging you, pushing you to take her the way she should be used.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard now,” you tell her as courtesy, moving through with the deed regardless of her response. She nods. Whether it’s from the persistent quake of the bed or a voluntary act, it doesn’t matter. You’re only focused on drawing out the most ecstasy in fucking her.

The fuse has already been lit the moment you first entered her; you’re just accelerating the countdown.

“Yes—fucking—oh my fucking—” you groan, the piston of your hips moving quicker and quicker with each thrust. The way her pussy quivers and flexes around your cock is so devastating, it’s burning through your skin. Your mind is in utter disarray, unable to fully comprehend the tightness consuming you. It’s going to pull you further and further down without a way to escape. You can only drag Tzuyu down too.

You’re crushing her, smothering her in your desperate attempt to stay in control. She’s doing everything in her power to shatter you, and it’s messing you up. She continues to moan in broken, jumbled tones, pulling you close to her with each pump, meeting halfway in a rhythm that hits the spot.

“Just like that—just like that—mm—” Tzuyu keens. How she can make even the littlest words sound so saccharine and sincere is beyond you. The way she takes your relentless pounding is a feat worth admiring. It’s the least of your concerns right now, especially when she continues to lead you further to your collapse. “Almost there—just keep fucking me.”

As if you had any other thought or option. That, or pulling down the strap of her skimpy crop top, exposing a breast, watching it ripple.

Her hair tangled around your waist, you keep fucking away. Stopping is the last thing you’d ever want to do, especially since you’re close too. The friction between your skin and hers is growing too unbearable, and yet the satisfying ripple of flesh slapping flesh supersedes that. There’s nothing sinful in what you’re doing, only something right.

“Please baby—never stop—stretching me out like this—” she mewls, her nails digging deep into your back, tilting your face and leading you into a passionate kiss. “Cumming for you—oh shit—”

Tzuyu clenches, kissing into you harder as her body comes undone from head to toe. Every nerve, every muscle going limp as she cums. She moans directly into your skin, freezing, her legs and arms coiled around your body as a wave of her slick spills all around your hard cock, landing on the sheets.

It’s the perfect time to get dragged by her wave of pleasure. You weren’t going to last any longer at this rate. “Tzu—” is the only thing that you manage to utter, before it completely falls apart.

Against the last of your resolve, your grip gradually loosens. Straining your hips, you thrust forward a handful of times, each one more and more agonizing till you finally reach the boiling point. Your cock throbs violently as you pump deep in her pussy, even as her legs collapse on the bed, because anything else would be a disservice to her unspoken demand. You’re groaning raspily against her ear, holding onto her even though she can’t move.

You fill her. Releasing every pent-up need and tension, your bodies go numb together. Her cunt squeezes every last drop of cum out of you. Tzuyu won’t settle for less. You’re repeating her name as your orgasm persists, the agony of blasting streak after streak seemingly unending. Your hips continue to fuck the cum deep into her pussy, gradually slowling by the second until you come to a full stop.

In the end, the only thing that remains are your labored breaths.

You clamp down on her collarbone before your consciousness eventually drifts away. This is the position you end up in for the rest of the night: you slumped over Tzuyu, arms wrapped over each other, drenched in sweat and sex.

At least she has the warmest blanket to cover her from the cold.

—————

As morning comes, you’ve spent more time inside Tzuyu than anywhere else—as it should be.

“You sure you don’t wanna go anywhere?” she asks, showing you her phone with a picture of a hot spring, one of many in the country. “We could use it before going back.”

“I’m good,” you say, looking up at Tzuyu, her lithe figure leisurely bouncing on your lap, eliciting these soft, airy moans out of you between thrusts. You’ve been mindlessly admiring her perfect body, your hands roaming at her waist, to her chest, then her ass, finally back to her waist again. “Maybe if you want, just go yourself. I just wanna sleep.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy” she replies, tilting her head down to meet you eye-to-eye. “After what we’ve done, you just wanna sit back? You’re really a pervert, you know that?”

“Still calling me that? After I fucked your brains out?”

“Just because you fucked me so well doesn’t change anything before that, pervert.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

Tzuyu places the phone on the end table before brushing your hair. She has this contemptuous look, her frustration bubbling to the surface. If she were any less patient, she could probably end you in an instant—

Except you both laugh, breaking the so-called tense silence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m also tired too,” she remarks, finding purchase of your face, then your chest. She stops grinding on you to lay on your head instead. “We could spend the whole day here, just ordering delivery. I wouldn’t mind.”

As entertaining of an idea as it sounds, the initial proposition gradually sinks in. You imagine the scene: a hot spring. Being one with nature. Some much needed relief for your muscles. More importantly, another excuse to see Tzuyu naked, even though she’s in nothing but a short robe right now.

Better yet, there’s a shower you can take her in, but she’s worn you out to the point of hardly moving.

“Tzu?” you mumble, caressing her covered back, cuddling her.

“Yeah?”

“I changed my mind. Let’s go to the hot springs.”

Even without looking, you can feel her annoyance. You can already envision the scorn on her features. She realizes she has made a huge mistake.

This is only the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

“You’re the worst boyfriend.”

“Worst? I thought we were just pretending.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”

—————

(A/N: Was thoroughly surprised Tzuyu was the third Twice member to get her solo! Came out of nowhere, fun little title track. Giving me early Sunmi/2nd gen vibes. Didn't really think much of her but the styling for the promos really caught me by the throat. Also shoutout to ddeun for writing and posting an earlier fic with a similar premise and concept as this one (OC x idol meeting the parents), especially as it features best girl Yena. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #twice #tzuyu

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emmiesoverthemoon · 2 months ago

Text

i’ll make you lose

pairing: lee felix x reader

word count: 10.6k

summary: you wanted to tease your cute nerdy tutor. how could you not? he looked like he short circuited whenever you both made eye contact. well, as it turns out, untouched nerds do it best.

tags: flustered felix. university au. implied friends to lovers. flirting, teasing. unprotected sex, dry humping, oral (f recieving). enjoy

this is my longest work yet. safe to say i got carried away lol.

You sat at the long, rectangular desk in the lecture hall, your fingers lightly tapping against the surface as the professor’s voice floated in the background. Your mind wandered, the jumble of equations and formulas in front of you blurring into abstract shapes. The announcement that your professor had just made, however, cut through the fog in your thoughts, and it was only then that the full meaning of their words sank in.

Felix. Lee Felix.

He was going to be your tutor. You had heard the rumors. Felix was brilliant. His grades were flawless, and his understanding of the material was unparalleled. He had the kind of intellect that earned him respect from professors and peers alike. The kind of intellect that made people expect perfection from him in everything he did.

But as much as Felix was known for his academic prowess, there was another side to him that never failed to catch your attention. He had this nerdy charm that was impossible to ignore. The way his tousled hair always seemed to fall into his eyes no matter how much he tried to push it back, the way his shy smile made him look both endearing and just a little out of place in the sea of confident university students. He was smart, yes, but there was something almost adorably awkward about him that always made you want to push his buttons.

“Felix will meet you in the library after class,” the professor continued, oblivious to the mischief stirring in your mind. “He is more than capable of helping you grasp these concepts, so please do not hesitate to reach out if you need assistance.”

You had to bite back the grin threatening to spread across your face. Felix would be your tutor? Oh, you could already imagine how it would go. You would be sitting there in the quiet, academic setting of the library, surrounded by endless shelves of books, and all you would need to do was drop a few playful comments and watch him squirm. Felix was too polite, too aware of how smart he was, and you knew that his discomfort would only make him more adorable.

He would try so hard to keep the focus on the subject, to make sure you understood every little detail. But you? You would make it impossible for him to stay composed. You could already hear his voice wavering, see the flush creeping up his neck when your teasing got to him.

You were going to enjoy every second of it.

With a sly grin, you gathered your things and headed out of class. Your mind was already turning, plotting exactly how to push his buttons in all the right ways. He was going to be your tutor, but that didn’t mean you were unallowed have a little fun while you learned, right?

The library was, as usual, a quiet sanctuary, with the scent of paper and ink filling the air as students hunched over their textbooks. Your ears were filled with the distant clicking of keyboard keys as other students desperately attempted to finish their assignments on time. You found an empty table by the window, settled into a chair, and waited. Your heart beat a little faster than usual, not from nerves, but from the anticipation of what was about to unfold. You were going to have Felix all to yourself, and the idea was enough to make you smile to yourself, just a little.

Minutes later, Felix entered, his presence immediately drawing your attention. He had a large backpack slung over one shoulder, and his eyes scanned the room, moving quickly over the rows of tables. When his line of sight finally landed on you, he froze, looking just a little startled, like he hadn’t expected you to be so... ready.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft and careful as he made his way over. “Sorry I’m late, I—uh—had to finish something for another class.”

You nodded slowly, watching him as he set his things down on the table, arranging them with a precision that made you wonder how long he had spent perfecting the art of being neat. “No problem,” you said, your voice light, casual. “I was just looking forward to some... expert tutoring.”

Felix blinked at you, a faint frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his fingers fumbling with the straps of his bag. “I—I wouldn’t call myself an expert. I just know the material,” he said quickly, glancing down at his notes, avoiding your sharp eyes.

You leaned forward just slightly, watching him. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Felix. They say you have all the answers.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes flickering nervously as he finally looked at you, a little too long this time. “Well... I try to. But, um... math is... you know, it’s not—uh—difficult once you understand it. It’s not subjective.” He trailed off, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You tilted your head, your smile widening just a fraction. “Hmm... so you are saying it is easy for you?”

Felix looked like he might crumble under the weight of your gaze. His fingers twitched, reaching for his pencil as if to busy himself, but his hand stopped just shy of it, his posture growing even more tense. “It’s... I mean, it’s not hard. Once you—”

“Once you focus,” you interrupted, your voice casual, but there was an undercurrent of something more. “And make sure your student focuses too, right?”

Felix cleared his throat, visibly flustered now. He nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, exactly. If we just focus, it’s really easy to get through it.” His voice wavered slightly, but he quickly recovered, trying to mask the nervousness that was slowly creeping in. “So, um... let’s get started with this first problem. It’s all about understanding the process.”

You rested your chin in your hand, leaning slightly forward again. “Of course. But... I'm curious. What do you do in your free time, Felix? When you’re not, you know, tutoring, being cute, and getting perfect grades?”

Felix blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I... uh...” He hesitated, his face turning a deeper shade of pink. “I just... I like to study more. Or... play some video games. Just to relax.”

You grinned, sensing the opportunity for more teasing. “Video games, huh? That’s... interesting. I would have never pegged you as the type.”

Felix opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly unsure how to respond. His fingers drummed nervously on the desk, and you could see the tiny tremble in his hand. “I—uh—it’s just a hobby,” he said, the words coming out much faster than he intended. “It helps me unwind.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, eyes glinting. “I can imagine. You must get really into it. I bet you lose track of time... just focusing on the game.”

Felix was trying so hard not to react, but it was obvious he was flustered. His shoulders were tight, his cheeks flushed, and he avoided looking at you for a moment. “I mean, yeah... sometimes. But that’s not the point right now,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

You leaned back, still smiling. “No, of course not. You’re here to tutor me. I get it.”

But the way his voice cracked slightly when he spoke—that was definitely the point.

Felix took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His fingers slid over his notebook as he adjusted his glasses again, the motion a bit more frantic this time. The uncertainty was still there, evident in the way his shoulders stiffened as he tried to get his thoughts together. He focused on the material, but it was clear that the presence in front of him made it harder to stay on track.

“Alright,” he began, his voice more confident than before, though there was a slight edge to it. “This problem is about differential equations. First, we isolate the variable—”

You interrupted him, your voice light and teasing. “Mm, sure, but are you sure you want to go straight into all that? I mean, you’re looking awfully cute trying to explain this.”

Felix froze mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat. His hand, still gripping his pencil, trembled slightly. He glanced up at you, flustered. “I... I’m just trying to make sure you get it.” His voice was tight, but there was an unmistakable vulnerability to it, like he was unsure whether you were joking or being serious.

You leaned back in your chair, letting your eyes trace over his flustered expression. “I know, I know. You’re just so diligent,” you said with a smirk, your inspective eyes never leaving his face. “It’s kinda adorable, to be honest.”

Felix’s cheeks turned a shade darker. He cleared his throat, awkwardly glancing at the notebook, his focus now split between the problem in front of him and the teasing grin on your face. “Okay, well,” he stammered, his voice faltering. “Let’s just get through this first part, okay? The first thing you do is... uh, you isolate the variable, and then...”

“You know,” you interrupted again, raising an eyebrow, “you’re really good at this. I don’t even need to take notes. I’ll just watch you talk about math. You’re cute when you get all serious.”

Felix’s eyes darted up to meet yours, then quickly flicked back down, his face growing hotter. “I—uh—I think it’s better if you take notes. You’ll remember it better that way.”

You grinned, enjoying how much you were making him squirm. “Oh, but it’s more fun this way. You’re cute when you’re flustered. Besides,” you leaned forward slightly, “I think I’d rather pay attention to you than whatever’s on the page.”

Felix opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He swallowed thickly, his fingers nervously tapping the pencil against the desk. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes on the equations now, not when you were looking at him like that. “I... I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he finally managed, his voice sounding almost strained. “We need to focus.”

“Focus, huh?” you mused, eyes sparkling. “Well, I’m sure I could focus... if you weren’t so intriguing.”

He was clearly struggling to maintain his composure. His gaze flickered between his notes and you, like he was unable to decide which was more important. “I—I’m trying to stay on track here,” he said, voice a little more forceful this time, though it was still laced with uncertainty. “But, uh... just, just try to take notes. Please?”

You smiled, leaning back in your chair with a teasing glint in your eye. “Alright, alright, Felix. You’re the boss. But I’ll admit, it’s hard to take notes when my tutor is so... distracting.”

Felix’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling around his pencil. “I—uh—I’m not trying to distract you. I just... I want you to understand this,” he said quickly, his tone a little more defensive now.

You nodded slowly, your expression shifting just enough to let him know you were still in control of the situation. “Sure, Felix. Go ahead,” you said, your voice almost too sweet, too calm. “I’ll listen, I promise.”

But there was no mistaking the underlying amusement in your voice, the way you were watching him with that knowing smile, making it almost impossible for him to keep his focus. Felix’s pencil shook slightly as he attempted to continue, but his words came out stilted and unsure. “Okay, so... when you—uh, when you solve for the variable, you—”

You leaned forward just a little, your voice soft but pointed. “You’re so good at this, Felix. Really. But I’ve got to wonder...” You let the words trail off, watching the way he stiffened under your gaze. “Do you get this flustered all the time? Or is it just me?”

Felix froze, his face turning even redder as he quickly tried to look away. “I’m—uh—I’m not flustered,” he muttered, but his voice was weak, lacking the usual certainty.

For the first time, you saw a flicker of something else in his eyes—an edge, maybe, or a challenge. His hand gripped his pencil more firmly as he looked down at the page, his voice quieter but still undeniably more confident. “I can focus,” he said, his tone sharper than before. “Let’s just... finish this.”

“Alright,” you said, your voice softer now, almost intrigued. “Let’s finish it, then.”

“Okay,” he began again, though his voice was steadier than before, still tinged with that edge of determination. “Let’s go over it again. After we’ve isolated the variable, you need to—”

You interrupted him again, this time leaning forward, just slightly. “Felix,” you said, your tone laced with playful mischief, “do you always look this serious when you’re teaching? I mean, you’re making me think you have a secret life as a super serious tutor.”

Felix blinked, clearly thrown off by the sudden shift in your tone. He adjusted his glasses with a nervous gesture, but this time, the flush creeping up his neck wasn’t as obvious. “I—I’m just trying to make sure you understand,” he said, though there was an almost defensive quality in his voice now. “It’s not easy to explain this stuff if you’re distracted.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting a small smirk play on your lips. “Distracted? Me?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I’m completely focused on you, Felix. But you know, your whole ‘serious tutor’ vibe is... kinda working for me. It’s almost too cute.”

Felix’s eyes flicked to you, then quickly away, a small breath escaping his lips. His hands clenched around the pencil, a slight tremor running through him. “It’s not cute,” he said quickly, his voice sounding a little more forced now. “This is important. I need you to take this seriously.”

“Of course, Felix,” you purred, leaning back in your chair as you watched the way he shifted in his seat. “I am very serious. I’m just wondering... do you always get this uptight when you talk to girls? Or is it just me that gets under your skin?”

Felix’s eyes widened, a flicker of something almost daring in his eye before he quickly looked back down at his notes. The flush deepened in his cheeks, but there was a shift in his posture—a subtle but noticeable one. “I’m not uptight,” he said firmly, though the force behind his words caught you by surprise. “I’m just focused on making sure you understand the content. That’s all.”

You smiled knowingly, pushing your luck a little further. “Hmm, is that what it is? You’re not uptight at all? Because it sure looks like I’m getting to you, Felix.”

Felix’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might snap at you. But then, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his fingers loosening their grip on the pencil. “It’s just that... I know this stuff inside and out,” he said, his tone a little quieter but still confident. “I don’t want you to struggle with it, okay?”

You tilted your head, your smile softer now, though your eyes never left his. “I’m sure you don’t want me to struggle,” you said, your voice low, “but maybe... just maybe... you’re a little more interested in making me struggle in other ways.”

Felix’s face flushed, his expression faltering for a split second before he regained his composure. His gaze flicked to yours again, but this time, it lingered a fraction longer than before. “I... that’s not what I meant,” he stammered, his voice betraying him. “I just... want you to do well. Is that so hard to believe?”

You smirked, enjoying the way he was floundering just a bit. “No, Felix. It’s not hard to believe at all,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “I just find it interesting that you’re so focused on me doing well. What about you? You’re doing a great job. I’d say you're pretty good at this whole tutoring thing.”

Felix shifted, clearly flustered. His usual calm demeanor was beginning to crack, and he was no longer avoiding your line of sight. The hesitation was still there, but it was starting to feel like he wasn’t as afraid to face you anymore. “It’s... it’s not about me,” he said, voice still uncertain, but no longer as shy. “It’s about you learning, okay?”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you noticed the change in his posture—how he sat up straighter now, shoulders back, a subtle shift in his body language. His attempt at maintaining composure was no longer about simply getting through the tutoring session—it was about something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him closely. “Alright, Felix,” you said, your voice softening just a little, “I’ll let you get back to the problem. But I’m starting to think that you’re not just tutoring me anymore. There’s a little something else going on, huh?”

Felix cleared his throat, his staring flicking to his notes for a second before he straightened up, more resolute this time. “Just focus on the material, alright?” His voice had a firmness now, an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. He now carried a commanding energy that you would be lying if you said you hated it.

For the first time, you felt a shift in the dynamic. The shift in the air was palpable—subtle yet undeniable. Felix was no longer just the shy, uncertain tutor, fumbling through every explanation with a nervousness that was, at first, endearing but now seemed out of place. No, there was something different in his demeanor now—something almost challenging. The softness he had shown earlier, the gentle hesitation, was slowly being replaced with a quiet firmness, and you could feel it in the way his eyes met yours. Steady. Calculated. Unwavering.

You couldn’t resist pushing just a little further. It's just so fun!

“So, Felix,” you said, a teasing tone slipping into your voice, “is this how you always talk? All serious, no fun? Because I think you'd be a lot more interesting if you let go a little, you know. Just a thought."

Felix didn't even flinch this time. His gaze held steady, the faintest spark of something deeper hiding behind those eyes. There was an edge to his voice, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift that you had not noticed before. “I can be fun when it matters,” he replied, his tone surprisingly assured. “But I’m not here to entertain you. I’m here to help you get it. If that means I need to stay focused, then so be it.”

You raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by the calm intensity of his words. “Oh, I know,” you said with a feigned innocence, leaning back slightly in your chair. “But it’s funny, don’t you think? How you try so hard to keep it all together. Makes me wonder... if you’re trying to impress someone with all that focus.”

Felix’s posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. His fingers, still gripping the pencil, twitched as if he was about to speak, but instead, he cleared his throat, and a brief silence settled between you.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” he said, the words deliberate, slower this time. “I’m here to do my job. To help you. Nothing more.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you studied him. “Mm. Sure. But I can’t help but wonder, Felix,” you said, leaning in just a little closer, “does all this effort to be so... perfect make you feel better? Or is it just the way you think people expect you to be?”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you could see Felix’s jaw tighten. His eyes, previously avoiding your peering ones, now locked with them. There was something different in the way he held himself now, something new in the way he stood his ground.

“I’m not perfect,” he said, his voice low but strong, a subtle challenge laced in every syllable. “And I don’t need you to think I am. I’m just doing what I have to do.”

Your gaze softened, the teasing edge still present but now tempered with something else. Felix’s composure was beginning to shift, the walls he had built starting to crack, revealing something more—a strength, a quiet assertiveness that had previously been hidden.

“Alright, Felix,” you said, your tone slipping into something more genuine, less playful. “But I have to admit, this... side of you? Didn’t see it coming. I like it.”

Felix inhaled slowly, his eyes still fixed on you, but now there was a quiet confidence in his aura. He set his pencil down, his movements deliberate, and you watched as he leaned forward just slightly.

“I’m not the nervous guy you think I am,” he said, his voice steady, no longer stumbling over his words. “And I’m not here to let you get away with everything, either.”

The change in his tone caught you off guard. There was no hesitation now, no nervous stammering. Felix, the tutor you had been teasing so relentlessly, was looking at you with the kind of quiet authority that made your pulse race.

Your smile faltered for a second, a small surprise flickering in your chest. “Well,” you said, your voice softer now, “guess I’ve been underestimating you.”

Felix’s deep eyes never wavered, and the corner of his lips curled into the faintest of smirks. “Maybe you should stop,” he said, his tone teasing now, but there was an undeniable edge to it. His voice dropped low, firing quick heat straight to your chest, “You might just find out that I’m not so easy to read.”

You swallowed, your heart picking up its pace at the challenge in his voice. There was a new tension in the air now, a quiet storm brewing between the two of you. And for the first time, you wondered just how far this teasing game could go.

The study session had dragged on, the numbers blurring into a haze that you could no longer focus on. Felix’s voice was a calm cadence, his explanations intricate yet smooth, but your mind had long since wandered. The air between you had thickened, a subtle charge building, lingering just below the surface. You stretched your arms overhead, an exaggerated motion that only further fueled the unspoken tension between you.

“Felix,” you drawled, your voice languid as you settled back into your chair, letting your eyes settle on him. “I think I’ve earned a break, don’t you think?”

Felix glanced up, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he smoothed it over with a quick smile. “A break?” he repeated, his tone light but the gleam in his eyes betraying the small flicker of interest. “For what exactly?”

You leaned back, the chair creaking beneath you as you tilted your head, assessing him in that way that made him uncomfortable without him even realising it. “I’ve been listening, Felix. Really listening. And you’ve been talking non-stop about equations. It’s only fair I get a little reward for being so studious.”

Felix’s lips twitched at the corner, but he didn’t break. “Reward? I didn’t realise listening was an activity worthy of prizes.” There was a playful bite to his words now, as if he were starting to realise just how much you were enjoying this.

You let your smile linger. “Oh, but it is,” you replied, leaning forward just enough to close the space between you two. “I’m being patient. I’m being good. And that, Felix, deserves something in return.”

The words came out with just enough sweetness that it almost sounded genuine, though the challenge behind them was unmistakable. Felix blinked once, twice, his brow furrowing as he processed it, before he straightened slightly, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “And what exactly would you want as a reward? Another lecture on algebra?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “Nah, I think I’ve had my fill of that for the evening. Maybe you could entertain me instead?” You let the word entertain hang in the air between you, casual but heavy with implication.

Felix hesitated, a momentary falter before he regained his composure. “Entertain you?” He leaned forward, now more intrigued than flustered. “I think you’re the one who’s been doing the distracting here.”

Your lips quirked at that. “Oh? You think so?” You shifted slightly, your body angling toward him in a way that felt just a touch too close. “I’m just sitting here, Felix. But it seems like you’re the one who can’t quite keep his mind on the equations.”

Felix’s gaze sharpened, though there was a faint flush creeping into his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “I’m focused,” he said, his voice even, though the tension in it was palpable. “And I’m not the one who’s been looking at the clock every five minutes.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m just trying to learn, Felix. I can’t help it if your genius is just... so distracting.”

His eyes flickered at the word genius, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Distracting, huh?” He paused, then leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough to make your heart race. “Maybe you’re the one who’s distracting me. You’ve been distracting me from the very beginning.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Felix wasn’t just playing along anymore. He was starting to push back, and it felt different—more deliberate, more confident.

“Oh really?” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips with a mix of amusement and challenge. “How exactly am I distracting you, Felix?”

Felix’s lips quirked into a half-smile, the self-assurance growing in him like a steady wave. “Well, for one, you won’t stop trying to flirt with me. I’ve been trying to focus on these problems,” he gestured to the scattered equations on the table, “but all I can think about is how much you enjoy messing with me.”

The words were out before you could stop them, a laugh escaping you. “Flirting? Me? I’m just being friendly, Felix.”

“Friendly?” he repeated, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer, so close that you could feel the heat from his body. His voice lowered, edged with something darker. “You’ve been pushing me ever since we started. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You swallowed, but the smile never left your lips. You weren’t expecting him to bite back this hard, but you liked it. “So, what?” you teased. “Am I a little too much for you?”

Felix didn’t flinch, not this time. He matched your gaze, leaning in just enough to close the gap, his voice a low murmur. “Maybe you are. But maybe I like it that way.”

Your breath caught, his words hanging in the air like a promise you were unsure if you wanted to acknowledge it just yet. Felix, the shy, smart tutor, was not so shy anymore. He was unafraid to meet you head-on, and that shift was more intoxicating than you would like to admit.

“Well,” you said, your voice breathy, the teasing edge still there but softer now, “I’m starting to think you might like the distraction, Felix.”

He paused, and for the first time, you saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Then, with a smirk that was all confidence, he leaned back, his posture changing entirely. “Maybe I do,” he said, his voice even, his gaze still holding yours, “but I’m not sure you’re ready for it. You think you've got me all figured out, hm?”

You couldn’t help the subconcious reaction in you—your smile widened, and the challenge grew thicker in your chest. “Oh, I don’t need to figure you out. I already know what buttons to press. It’s just you're a little more... unpredictable than I thought.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, his expression now a perfect mixture of amusement and something else—something sharper. “Unpredictable?” he repeated, his tone lowering. “I think you’re the unpredictable one here. You’ve been pushing my buttons from the start. But now...”

His voice took on a teasing, almost dangerous edge. “Now I’m starting to wonder how far you’re willing to push before you realise you might’ve gone too far.”

“You think I’ve gone too far?” you asked, your voice soft and mocking, and not doing very well at disguising how your heart skips beats when his voice drops in the way it has. “I’m just getting started, Felix.”

He leaned even closer, his voice now a near-whisper. “Then you’d better be careful,” he said, the words so close to a challenge that you couldn’t quite tell where the game ended and something else began. “Because if you keep pushing me, I might just let you go too far.”

For a moment, you both stared at each other, the air thick with a tension neither of you seemed willing to break.

“Well,” you said, leaning back, your voice back to that teasing edge, “looks like you’re the one distracting me now, huh?”

Felix smirked, leaning back in his own chair, but there was something in his posture now—something that made you realise he hadn’t been flustered at all. “You’ve been distracting me all this time,” he said, his voice steady. “But I think you’re right about one thing—you’re just getting started.”

You blinked, caught by surprise at the intensity in his voice. You were uncertain what had just shifted, but something between you had changed—Felix wasn’t just the shy, nervous tutor anymore. He was playing the game, and he was playing it well.

You barely made it through another page. Felix had resumed his explanation, something about polynomial division, but your thoughts were no longer tethered to the textbook. They wandered—to the way his fingers drummed lightly against the table, to the slight rasp in his voice when he became too focused to notice. He had not looked flustered since that last retort. In fact, it felt as though you were the one squirming now, each shift in his gaze a little too assured, each silence weighted with implication.

“You done spacing out again?” he asked, lifting his eyes just as yours trailed down the slope of his jaw.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Was not spacing out. I was contemplating the deeper meaning of poly-whatever division.”

Felix gave a slow nod, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Right. Deep. Like a spiritual experience.”

You exhaled a light laugh, chin propped in your hand. “You know, for someone who spends his nights talking to himself on Discord, you’re getting real confident.”

He blinked. “Wait—how do you know I—”

“I have ears,” you said simply. “And the guys talk. You all aren't exactly quiet.”

Felix stared at you, momentarily thrown. Then, in a move that felt strangely bold, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Okay. If you’re gonna mock the way I unwind, you’ve gotta at least try one of my games.”

“Try one?”

“Yeah. Come to my place. Pick a game. Let’s see if you’re any good.”

You raised a brow, amused by the casual offer—more amused by the confident glint in his eyes. “Is this a trap?”

“No,” he said, standing and stretching, his shirt riding up just slightly to reveal a sliver of pale skin. “But if you lose, you have to stop pretending you’re not interested.”

“And if I win?”

Felix paused at that, considering you with a gaze that lingered too long to be platonic. Then, with a crooked grin: “You won’t.”

You followed him out, the air charged in that low-simmer kind of way, the silence between you growing more alive with each step. His apartment was only a few minutes’ walk off campus, small and cozy, the kind of place that smelled faintly like cologne, old textbooks, and lavender laundry sheets.

“Shoes off,” he called as he moved toward the living room, kicking his own beside the door. “And no cheating.”

You stepped inside, eyes sweeping the space—books stacked on shelves and windowsills, a mess of cables near the desk, and, of course, a massive monitor glowing faintly in the dim light.

You turned toward him slowly, lips curling. “This is... alarmingly nerdy.”

He handed you a controller. “I know. You gonna keep talking or you gonna lose?”

"Put your money where your mouth is, Felix. Try me and find out."

You sat on the edge of his low couch, controller in hand, your knees drawn close and posture too poised for someone allegedly ready to relax. Felix, in contrast, looked perfectly at home—hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, one leg tucked under the other as he navigated the menus with muscle memory. His jaw was set, eyes flicking over the screen, the pale glow catching on his cheekbones, that singular beauty which softened every time he forgot to guard it.

“Alright,” he said, voice casual as though he had not just invited you into his domain. “Simple practice match first. No stakes. You just gotta learn the controls.”

“I know what a joystick is,” you replied, shifting beside him, your shoulder brushing against his lightly. “I’m not a caveman.”

“No,” he said, glancing sidelong at you. “Just an academic liability.”

You made a sound of mock offense, elbow nudging his arm. “Wow. The ego on you.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Oh, so I taught you arrogance?”

Felix smirked, his eyes not tearing from the screen. “You’re an excellent role model.”

You were not entirely paying attention to the tutorial. Your fingers moved, but your thoughts trailed elsewhere—the rise and fall of his breath beside you, how his hands moved on the plastic controller with such nimbleness, the way his voice dipped low when explaining something technical, the subtle rasp that crept in the longer he talked.

“Here—hold A and rotate here. Like this.” He shifted, his hand coming over yours before you could react, guiding your fingers carefully. His touch was light, but deliberate, and far too warm.

You glanced at him.

He didn't move away.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “So... this is your master plan? Lure girls into your apartment and seduce them with thumb placement?”

Felix’s ears flushed red immediately. “What? No—no. That is not—”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, feigning deep thought. “Honestly, it is kind of working. But you should pace yourself, you know? Not every girl likes it rough on the joystick.”

He sputtered. Actually sputtered. “That is not—You—God—”

You grinned, victorious.

“I knew you were a menace,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

You tilted your head toward him, gaze lingering. “Still think you can handle tutoring me twice a week?”

Felix exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable now—focused, perhaps, or maybe just attempting not to combust. He turned his attention back to the screen, but not before murmuring under his breath:

“Barely.”

The practice round ticked down to its final seconds, the countdown flashing across the screen like a warning bell. The room around you was thick with warmth and shadow, your shared laughter from earlier settling into something quieter now—something edged.

Felix sat forward with that same focus as before, fingers loose on the controller, brow furrowed, jaw taut with effort. You watched the light flicker across his features—the soft glow of the monitor catching in his lashes, gilding the curve of his cheekbone. He hadn't even noticed how close you were.

But you had.

You tilted your body just enough that your thigh brushed his. “So intense,” you murmured. “Bet your heart rate goes up when your health bar drops.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “You talk too much when you're losing.”

“You're cute when you pretend this game matters.”

He finally looked at you. Not a glance, not a flicker—looked, head turning toward you fully, slow and unreadable.

“I'm cute?” he asked, tone deceptively mild.

You leaned in, feigning casual, letting your lips hover just near his ear. “Adorably so. Like a sweet little overachiever who's never had anyone play dirty with him before.”

Felix’s breath hitched. You felt it more than heard it.

He turned back to the screen, but his voice had shifted—lower now, smoother, each word curling with quiet intent. “Let's make this interesting.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him. “Go on.”

He pressed a button—your character flailed helplessly on-screen.

“If I win…” he said slowly, “you have to tell me exactly what kind of thoughts you have when you look at me, when you listen to me.”

Your grip on the controller tightened and your heart lurched, were you that obvious?

“What do I get if I win?” you asked, trying not to sound too breathless, too flustered.

Felix’s smirk curved like something dangerous. “Then I want to hear the same thing. Just... slower.”

“Alright, fine. But one more warm-up. Need to level the playing field.”

He answered with a chuckle and a soft shake of his head. The 'rematch' button was selected.

Competitive silence hovered in the air longer than it should have.

Your character lay defeated on the screen, the soft flicker of pixelated flames the only movement in the room. Felix had not moved either—still leaned forward, still watching you, though his gaze had shifted. Less playful now. More precise. Like he had studied the moment, found the crack in your composure, and was waiting to press into it.

You shifted where you sat, suddenly aware of the heat in the room, of how close his knee was to yours, how low his voice had gone and how it still echoed in your skin. His eyes dropped—briefly—to your mouth. Then rose again.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “That was a warm-up, right?”

His lips curved, slow and wolfish. Not a smile. A promise.

“Practice,” he corrected. “That was just practice.”

And then—he sat back.

Not away from you. Into himself. Like something in him had settled. His posture eased, but his presence intensified, like the air between you had suddenly thickened.

He resumed the game, eyes still on the screen, voice low and smooth. “Ready to actually play?”

You blinked. “What was I doing before?”

He clicked a button. The screen glowed. “Losing. Distracted. Making it too easy.”

“You're—”

“Still winning,” he cut in, and this time the look he gave you was direct, calculated. “But now… now I want to see what you're like when you stop pretending that you 'don't care'.”

You felt your stomach drop and flutter all at once.

Felix shifted again, closer this time—close enough that you could feel the press of his thigh against yours, the heat of him radiating through the minimal space between you. And then his voice came again—just behind your ear, thick as honey and impossible to block out.

“No more practice,” he murmured, the lowness of his voice shooting heat straight to your gut. “Show me how good you really are.”

You exhaled slowly and reset your grip on the controller, forcing your shoulders to loosen, your jaw to unclench. You had teased him first. This was just payback. You could handle it. It was still just a game.

But Felix was no longer playing the same one.

He didn't fill the silence between rounds with jokes or quips anymore. He didn't glance at your screen. He didn't need to.

He stayed close. Still and aware and quiet—except for that voice.

Not even a full sentence. Just fragments, murmured in that devastating octave, as if they slipped out of him without effort. Too casual. Too effective.

“Focus,” he whispered, as your thumb slipped on the analog stick again.

You swallowed hard.

“You're holding your breath,” he said next, voice lilting downward like a slow descent into something dangerous. “Is it me?”

You turned your head toward him—your mistake.

Because his eyes were already on you. Lazy, unreadable, and far too warm. His gaze flicked to your lips for half a second before he leaned in, so close you could feel the shape of his breath against your cheek when he spoke again.

“Tell me what you hear.”

Your pulse kicked hard against your throat.

“My voice,” he murmured, lips barely moving, “or your thoughts?”

You blinked, rapidly turning to look back at the screen, face burning. He had guessed. Or no—known. Felt it in the way you tensed. The way your thighs pressed together, just slightly, when he got close enough to speak low.

He smiled, soft and dangerous. “Thought so.”

You fumbled a combo. He leaned back, hands never leaving his controller, the heat of him still very much present.

“You keep teasing like you want me to lose,” he said. “But I think you want me to win.”

“I do not,” you said too quickly, too sharply, and he laughed—quiet, deep, the sound dragging along your spine.

“Then concentrate,” he said. “You're about to lose again.”

And that would be right, you did.

He paused the screen.

This time, he did not gloat. He set the controller down and turned toward you with a steady, almost clinical curiosity—like you were a riddle he was determined to solve.

“So,” he said, voice gentled back into a hush, “what exactly is it?”

You blinked. “What?”

He leaned in again, this time letting his mouth hover near your ear, not touching, just close enough that your breath hitched.

“The pitch?” he asked. “The rasp? Or is it just knowing I'm using it on purpose?”

You could not answer. Not right away. He waited.

Still.

Quiet.

Patient.

And then, softly—“Tell me everything. You lost the bet. You owe me that much.”

You hesitated—just a moment, but it was enough. The truth sat heavy in your chest, and you could feel it like a secret you had tried to keep hidden. You knew why he made your breath catch. It wasn’t just the voice. It was how it wrapped around you, how it hit those places you tried not to think about.

But now that he had cornered you—his eyes steady, voice calm, as if he knew—you could hardly breathe without him seeing right through you.

You blinked quickly, trying to steady yourself, but it did not work.

“I think,” you started, your voice a little too tight, “I think it’s the way you speak when you’re not... trying.”

Felix’s lips quirked, like a secret he had not expected you to admit.

“You mean when I’m casual?”

“Not casual,” you forced out, your heartbeat picking up. “When you’re—” You tried to think of the word, but it was impossible. “When you’re barely trying at all. Like you're not even aware of how much you're—" You stopped yourself, eyes narrowing. “You're affecting me. You’re just… too good at it.”

Felix leaned back, lips curling in amusement, eyes locked on you like a challenge. He wasn’t going to let you off easy. You were playing this game now.

“So, you like it, then? My voice?”

You shot him a look, half-rolling your eyes. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Mm. But I think you can say it louder.”

“You’re pushing it,” you warned, voice low, but Felix knew—he knew exactly what he was doing. You could see the way he leaned closer, just enough to make your pulse spike, his eyes twinkling like he was the cat and you were the mouse.

And then he spoke again, his voice darker this time—sweeter in its low rumble.

“You like it when I’m casual, right? When I don’t even try to make it sound like I’m saying it for you. That’s the part you’re not telling me, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, trying to look away, but you couldn’t. He had you in his grip now—his voice, his words, everything about the way he knew. And he was right. You couldn’t stop yourself from reacting to it.

But he had no plans of letting up.

“Or is it something else, hmm?” Felix’s voice lowered even further, an almost unbearable, husky murmur. “Do you like it when I speak just like this? Like I’m giving you everything you don’t want, but you can’t pull away.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to maintain some sense of control. “You really think you know that much about me?”

He grinned, that teasing flicker in his eyes returning. “I do now.”

And then—he did it again. His voice, barely above a whisper—“Focus. You’re still distracted.”

You flinched, shifting uncomfortably, and then—just to push back—you threw him a glance, daring him.

“You know,” you said, voice dropping in challenge, “I think you like knowing how much it gets to me.”

Felix froze, his gaze sharpening. The edge of something dangerous settled between you both.

“Is that so?”

You didn’t flinch this time. You met him, eye for eye. “You’re not the only one who can play this game.”

“Prove it,” he said, his voice lowering to the kind of hunger that made your breath hitch. “Let me hear it. Let me hear what really gets you worked up.”

And that—that was the final challenge.

You leaned in, close enough that your words came out soft, teasing, barely more than a whisper.

“You really want to know?” You paused just a beat. “I think it’s the way you think you have all the answers, but you’re about to lose.”

Felix laughed, dark and quiet, but there was something heavier in it now. His fingers, light and steady, brushed the edge of your knee. “Is that so? Somehow you still think you’ve got the upper hand. That's bold of you.”

You tried—you really tried—to stay focused, to force your eyes on the controller, the animations of the pause window, anything. But every second, Felix’s voice seeped into your skin, his words curling around your senses like smoke. It was intoxicating, heavy, and too much.

You could feel your pulse quicken, the rhythm of your breath growing shallow. His voice, so warm, so rich, pressed against your ear, vibrating through your bones. Each word he murmured was like a wave, pulling you deeper into his orbit.

"Felix," you whispered, barely able to contain the way your breath hitched in your throat. “Stop... teasing."

A grin tugged at his lips. He knew. God, he knew how much he was getting to you. The bastard knew exactly how his words made you tremble inside, the way his voice curled around you, making it impossible to think about anything else.

“I’m not teasing, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice a lazy drawl, thick with satisfaction. “I’m just making sure you’re paying attention.”

You couldn’t deny it. You weren’t focused on the game anymore—not even close. Every syllable that slipped from his lips was a distraction, a pull, a magnet that made your body feel like it was on fire. It was as if his words had their own gravity, pulling you under, drowning you in the sound of him.

“Focus,” he whispered again, his breath ghosting over your ear, making your skin prickle, your whole body flush. He was so close now, too close, and yet it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You needed more.

You felt his fingers brush over your wrist, light and teasing, sending jolts of electricity shooting up your arm. He knew exactly how to touch you, knew exactly how to get you to react. His fingers were like fire against your skin—deliberate, slow, dragging out the tension.

“You’ve already lost,” Felix murmured, his voice thick with a kind of wicked amusement. The words sank into your chest, heavy and final, but there was something in his tone—something low and dangerous—that made your stomach flip. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Your throat went dry as the heat in your body intensified. The screen was just a blur now. Your eyes could barely focus on it. Your whole world was Felix—his presence, his scent, his voice dripping with authority. His words, coated in that delicious, teasing edge, twisted in your mind and made your body react before you could even think about it.

And then—finally—you gave in.

“Okay,” you breathed out, voice barely a whisper, but it was enough. “I lost. You won.”

Felix’s breath shuddered out, a soft exhale of satisfaction. He didn’t move right away, didn’t rush to claim his rightful victory. No, he took his time—because he knew, and you knew, he didn’t need to rush. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

His fingers traced the line of your wrist, slow and deliberate, his touch sending shivers across your skin. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on you, and you could feel the heat between you building, curling in your gut.

Felix’s voice dropped even lower, a velvet murmur that practically slid under your skin. “I knew that was coming, I told you you wouldn't win, remember?” he said, his lips close enough that you could feel the breath against your ear. The words were a command, wrapped in satisfaction and something darker—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing over your ear in the most maddening way, his voice practically dripping into your ear. “But it’s not over yet, sweetheart. You’re still here. Still with me.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. You were lost in the sound of him, the way his voice felt like a touch, like a caress. You wanted him to stop, wanted him to give you space, but the truth was—you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Every inch of you screamed for him to keep going, to make you lose again, because losing meant he’d take more, and you’d give him more.

He took his time, waiting. Watching you squirm. Watching the way your chest rose and fell, the flush on your face. He was savoring this—savoring the way he had you wrapped around his finger without even touching you.

Felix’s lips brushed your ear one last time. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured, his voice laced with that same wicked teasing. “Or do you want me to make you lose all over again?”

Your body was trembling in desire, the answer so close to your lips that it nearly slipped out on its own, but you were still holding back. You still wanted to fight. But when his fingers brushed down your arm again, slow and deliberate, the touch igniting your skin, you knew.

This was no longer a game. This was something else.

And you were far too gone to turn back.

“Yes,” you breathed, unable to hold back any longer, the word slipping out in a breathless rush. “I want you to win.”

Felix let out a low, satisfied chuckle, the sound dripping with so much pleasure you could barely stand it.

“Good, then let’s see just how much you can handle," Felix chuckled darkly, and in that moment, everything changed. The teasing was gone. The games were over. He moved with purpose, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, as if he had been waiting for this moment. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you as he pulled you into his lap, not once breaking away from your lips.

His body was firm, hard, and you felt every inch of him pressed against you, his desire unmistakable. It was like electricity crackling between you, sparking the need, the hunger you’d been trying so desperately to control.

Your thighs bracketed his, your hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline as you subconciously rocked your hips down against him. The thick, hard length of him pressed up between your legs, and even with both of you still clothed, it felt obscene—too good, too much. Every movement dragged your against your aching core, the rough texture of denim making you gasp, tremble.

Felix’s hands gripped your hips tight, fingers digging in like he needed to ground himself. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice dark and wrecked, like gravel dragged across velvet. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”

You nodded, breathless, hips rolling down again just to hear that sound leave him. His head dropped back against the couch for a moment, jaw clenched, lips parted. You could see how hard he was beneath you, how much effort it took to let you keep control.

But you never really had it—not with the way he looked up at you now, eyes dark, mouth curling into something hungry. “Move for me, baby,” he said, voice dropping even lower, like a secret whispered straight to your spine. “Let me feel you.”

You obeyed without thinking, grinding down against him in slow, aching circles, chasing friction, chasing heat. His breath caught, hands tightening as he guided your rhythm—deliberate, delicious. Every roll of your hips dragged a new sound from him, low and broken, and it made you feel powerful—until he growled.

“Enough teasing,” he muttered, and before you could blink, he sat up, chest flush to yours, arms locking around your waist.

Now it was him rocking up into you, grinding hard enough to make your breath stutter, your back arch. You clung to him, whimpering at the new angle, the intensity.

“You’re gonna make me lose it,” he hissed against your throat, voice cracking with restraint. “Keep grinding like that, and I’ll come just like this. With you on top of me, clothes on, moaning my name.”

He buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin, and you could barely hold on. There was no air, no room, nothing but the heat of him, the way his hips met yours again and again, perfectly, mercilessly.

You were soaked. Shaking. Seconds away from shattering.

He whispered in that wrecked, perfect voice—“I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

You could feel your pulse racing, your body betraying you with each passing second. You wanted more—wanted him to take you, claim you, make you lose all over again. You needed him to show you just how far you could go with him.

“Then take me,” you breathed out, the words slipping from your lips without thought. You wanted him, wanted everything he was offering. “I’m already yours, Felix. Do what you want with me.”

His eyes darkened, a predatory gleam flashing in them as he heard your words. The smirk on his lips deepened, as if he had been waiting for you to finally admit it—to finally give him the green light to take control completely.

Without a word, Felix flipped you both, placing you beneath him with a precision that sent a rush of heat through your body. The world around you seemed to fade into nothingness, leaving only him—his touch, his voice, his body against yours.

He paused, hovering above you for just a moment, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His eyes searched yours, a silent question in them—one you didn’t need to answer. You had already given him every word he needed in the moment. He was in control now, and you were more than willing to let him have it.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a velvet growl that made your skin prickle. His lips crashed down on yours again, this time with an intensity that stole your breath away, the kiss hard, demanding, as if he needed you just as badly as you needed him. After he had stripped you down to your panties, his hands roamed freely, touching you with a hunger that made you ache.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the soft skin there, then trailing down to your chest, where he focused his mouth on your breast, rolling his tongue around your nipple, and his left hand attending to your other breast, kneading the supple skin.

His right hand moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your panties to trace his fingertips ever so lightly through your folds.

"Look at you, so eager. This wet for me, already?" He murmured against your skin, moving away to stare at your pussy, to which he dragged his tongue across his lip. If you weren't embarassed yet, you certainly were by now. "All I've really done is talk to you. You want this that badly? Where did all that biting confidence from this afternoon go, hm?"

You barely managed to muster a reply before his hands fled their posts to lift your hips, to allow for his teeth to catch the elastic of your panties and drag them down to your ankles and tossed to who knows where. He tossed them with his mouth. That image would be engraved in your brain forever.

Wordlessly, he dove straight in.

His tongue moved with a slow, devastating precision—savoring every inch of you as though you were a delicacy he had waited lifetimes to taste. Each stroke was skillful, hungry, and maddeningly thorough, his mouth worshipping you with an unrelenting hunger that bordered on reverence. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the softness as he spread you wide for him, holding you open as though he couldn't bear to lose a single moment of access.

When he moaned against you—low, rough, trembling with need—it reverberated straight through your core. The sound alone nearly broke you.

You shamelessly let out moans, huffs, and groans as needed, you were helpless beneath the weight of his mouth, and he only smiled proudly against you—tongue flicking over your clit with wicked precision, then sucking hard enough to make your vision go white. You cried out, hips jolting, thighs beginning to close around his head in a desperate, overwhelmed instinct.

You shattered with a sob, your release tearing through you fast and violent, your body trembling as the orgasm overtook you—but he did not stop.

He held you in place, relentless and devoted, licking you through it with obscene focus, tongue fucking you slowly, deeply, while your body broke apart beneath him. You were unraveling in his hands, and still—he kept going until your twitching had slowed to a stop.

When he finally pulled away, his chin was slick, his lips glistening. “You taste like a fucking dream.”

You moaned, your hands clutching at his hoodie before he leant up so he could strip it off, revealing smooth, pale skin stretched over lean muscle, his chest heaving with restraint. His eyes were molten, locked on yours as he tugged your thighs apart with strong hands, settling between them once again like he belonged there—because he did.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his fingers replaced his tongue—two of them sliding deep inside you, curling just right, hitting that perfect spot that made you cry out. He worked you open with smooth, steady strokes, watching you unravel under his touch, his thumb drawing slow, tight circles around your clit while his free hand pushed your shirt up to bare your chest.

"You’ve been so good for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I want to hear you say it again. I want you to beg me."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the control he had over you. You could feel the fire building inside you, your breath shallow and fast as you fought to keep yourself from completely losing it.

“Felix, please,” you gasped, eyes glassy with need. “I want your cock inside me. I need it.”

"That's it, who am I to deny such a pretty plea like that?"

He pulled back, his fingers slipping from you, wet and glistening as he reached down to undo his belt. His cock sprang free, flushed and thick, veins prominent along the shaft. You reached for him, but he caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head.

He lined himself up, nudging at your entrance, dragging the head through your slick folds until you were trembling with anticipation. Then, with one slow, merciless thrust, he filled you.

You gasped, nails digging into his back as your walls stretched to accommodate him, the pressure overwhelming in the best way. He paused only a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, before drawing his hips back and slamming into you again.

“Relax, breathe,” he murmured, pulling back slightly, only to thrust deeper, his breath ragged against your skin. “I’ve got you.”

He groaned as he buried his face in your neck and set a punishing rhythm, each thrust deeper, harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, the angle perfect, the drag of his cock inside you enough to make your vision blur. His hand snaked up to your throat, fingers curling there—not tight, just enough to remind you who was in control.

“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear, biting the lobe. “All of you. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped. “God, Felix, I’m—”

And when the words finally slipped from your lips, breathless and raw, Felix’s eyes darkened with triumph. “Good girl,” he muttered. “I knew you were mine.”

He shifted, hips grinding against yours as he fucked into you, stroking that sweet, devastating spot again and again until you were sobbing with the need to come. His thumb found your clit again, circling fast and merciless now, pushing you to the brink.

And then you were falling—your body clenching around him, stars exploding behind your eyes as your second orgasm ran through you like fire. Felix didn't stop, chasing his own high, thrusting into you through your climax until his rhythm broke and he spilled inside you with a shudder and a curse.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting, slick with sweat and trembling from the aftershocks. The tension had finally broken, but you could feel it lingering, the heat between you not quite fading. Felix didn’t seem in a rush to pull away. His gaze lingered on you, and you could see the soft smile tugging at his lips, the same man who had been bold, teasing, and oh so confident moments ago, now softened by the shared intimacy.

“You lost, by the way,” Felix murmured with a playful smile, his fingers tracing over your lips. “And I’m going to make sure you remember that. You were so embarrassed under me.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one flustering you,” you said softly, voice not quite steady, betraying the remnants of your earlier surrender.

He tilted his head, curls falling over his brow. “You do. Constantly.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, but you like it now.”

“I liked it before,” he murmured. Then, quieter, as though it startled even him, “I liked you before.”

The air shifted.

You blinked up at him, smile faltering—not in discomfort, but in the way something deep in your chest tugged, slow and aching. “You… mean that?”

Felix looked at you like he had studied you for days, like you were an answer to something he never wanted to say aloud. “I'm not very good at pretending,” he confessed. “Not with you.”

There was no teasing in that. Just truthful, soft, and raw tenderness.

Your hands found his cheeks, thumbs brushing the warmth of his flushed skin. “You really have the worst timing,” you whispered, trying to smile. “Saying stupid sweet things when I'm still technically trying to beat you.”

Felix smiled back—crooked, lopsided, unfairly boyish. “Then lose. Again. On purpose this time.”

You leaned upward, just close enough to feel his breath catch against your lips. “And if I do?”

His eyes dropped to your mouth. “Then let me make it worth your while.”

You kissed him slowly, like the match had burned down, like the game had ended, and only the wanting remained.

guys pls lmk if the long stuff is too much,,,,, i keep getting carried away LOL thx for reading allat

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325

#emmiesoverthemoon #lee felix #skz felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee felix x you #felix lee #fanfic #kpop fanfic #skz x reader #felix x reader #straykids #stray kids x reader #stray kids felix #skz uni au #skz college au

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hencheri · 4 months ago

Text

— sex advice

▸ 18+ mdni.

you have an obvious crush on your tutor, chenle, and he takes advantage of your feelings for him when you innocently ask him for sex advice.

| pairing. tutor!chenle x fem!reader

| warnings. heavy dubcon, chenle's an asshole, manipulation, choking, spit kink, unprotected sex, degradation, loss of virginity, innocent!reader.

| wc. 2.8k

⤷ part of my 1k event.

the library is mostly silent apart from the occasional whispers of other students and the sound of fingers typing on keyboards. it’s almost become a daily occurrence for you to be here, to be sitting at the exact same table at the far back of the library, hidden behind multiple rows of books.

it’s embarrassing to admit, but you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your low gpa… and the few classes you’re failing. it’s not on purpose, of course, but you don’t have the longest span of attention. it’s quite short, in fact.

you were desperate for good grades and your friends suggested to ask someone to tutor you. you were reluctant at first, way too shy to ask anyone for help, but as the C’s and D’s kept coming in, you had no other choice.

“that’s gonna be all for today,” chenle announces, a heavy thud resonating as he closes his textbook. he turns to look at you and you bob your head, showing that you understand. he watches you wordlessly for a long second, eyeing you down. “you did great,” he says and your eyes slightly widen at the compliment.

“really?” you ask in a small voice.

he nods curtly, looking back up at you. “yeah. you understood everything quite well, you were even able to do all the exercises without my help.”

you can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. you’re surprised you performed well today because all you remember doing was staring at the way his hand gripped his pen as he wrote down the exercises and his lips parting as he explained them to you.

“thank you,” you mumble, a timid smile drawing on your face.

“you earned a reward, don’t you think?” chenle says, watching you eagerly bounce your head immediately after. “come closer,” he instructs and you do just as he says, dragging your chair closer to his.

when he deems you close enough, he takes a hold of your jaw, tilting your chin upward. he hovers just above you, his breath fanning across your face as he tells you to open your mouth.

you part your lips and you whimper when his spit lands on your tongue. you shut your mouth, and chenle doesn’t even have to remind you to swallow it before you do.

the faintest grin tugs on his lips, passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you look at him like a desperate little puppy, frowning and pouting. if only he’d go further than that…

“such a good girl,” he purrs.

you feel a little giddy as he retrieves back his hand and you start rubbing your thighs together, feeling a wave of heat travel down to your core. you bite down into your lip, already missing chenle’s touch.

“you should pack up our stuff now,” he then instructs, leaning back against his chair, passing his fingers through his hair.

you get up and collect all of the things scattered on the table, his expectant eyes following each one of your movements making you a little nervous. you slip his textbook into his backpack as well as his pencil case and laptop. once you’re done, you zip up your bag, putting the strap over your shoulder.

you scurry behind chenle as he walks to the exit, struggling to pick up with his pace. he stops before reaching the door, turning back to you.

“i’ll see you next week.” he takes his backpack from your hands, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “keep on with the good work, yeah?”

you dumbly nod your head as you watch him pushing open the door of the library, and you stand there uselessly, trying to ignore the wetness in your panties.

—-

“i’m sorry,” you apologize bashfully, hurriedly putting your books down and getting your coat off your shoulders.

chenle watches you closely, clearly annoyed, his tongue pushing against his inner cheek. you sit down panting, brushing your fingers through your hair, wanting to look presentable as you finally face him.

“i wanted to get here early, but i left my books at home, so i had to go pick them up… then my car got stuck in the snow,” you explain, trying to make him understand that it was really not intentional. you let out a chuckle to ease up the mood, but chenle doesn’t seem to find it funny.

“you could’ve just borrowed one from here,” he sighs.

you feel stupid for not having thought of that. you look down at your lap as your face burns in embarrassment.

“i know you’re not the smartest, but you could’ve avoided all this unnecessary trouble…” his voice is firm, almost condescending. “...if you just had thought about it for a little longer.”

after a second of heavy silence with just him staring you down and you avoiding his gaze, he shrugs, turning to open his book.

“let’s continue from where we left off.”

you listen to chenle and everything goes well, you’d say, except for the few times he has to correct you on your answers. this chapter seems a little bit more difficult, but it’s probably due to your racing thoughts. you don’t mean to get lost in your mind every now and then, but the tight knot you felt at the bottom of your stomach when chenle was scolding you is still very much present.

you nod at each one of his explanations, scolding yourself mentally when you focus too long on his hands or face. he hums approvingly when you get the right answers and when you summarize what you understood.

it feels good to have his approval after you quite clearly disappointed him.

“how much did you get on your last test?”

you stop writing, glancing up from your sheet of paper. you meet chenle’s gaze and register his question; you did mention to him last time that you had a test, still waiting on its result.

“uh, i got a B-,” you reply, nibbling down on your bottom lip as you study his expression. it doesn’t change much, doesn’t even lift up or falter.

“that’s great. good job.” he nods in acknowledgement and you mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ in return.

you wonder for a moment if he will give you a reward for it, but he doesn’t say anything else, so you go back to your sheet of paper. you try to continue the exercise and you find yourself unable to get back into it. you’re just too distracted.

chenle quickly catches on it. “what’s the problem?” he questions, raising his eyebrows quizzically at you.

you open your mouth and close it, not sure how you should address this. should you even share it with him in the first place?

you’ve been thinking about it a lot, and you don’t know for how long you can keep it to yourself. it might as well slip off your lips one day.

you eventually sigh, tilting your head toward him. “... please, promise you won’t judge me?”

chenle is intrigued now. what could you be worrying your little head about? “i promise,” he says and you think he sounds truthful.

“okay, um…” you take a deep breath, not knowing where to look, opting for your lap as usual. “i’m not sure how to say this, but…” you begin to mumble, shifting in your seat, chenle’s eyes never leaving you, “i was wondering if you could help me with something else.”

he arches a brow, the corner of his lips tugging upward into a playful smirk, your shyness amusing him. “and what is it?” he asks.

“i- i’ve never had sex before, and… i know you have a lot of experience,” you bluntly admit, already feeling your cheeks getting warmer. “so i wanted to know if you’d accept to help me… with that.”

you almost deflate in your chair when you hear chenle’s laughter, slowly turning your head to see him smiling, chest heaving at each one of his laughs.

you wish you could bury yourself six feet underground. why did you say that? you should have just shut it. you’re so dumb. so stupid.

his laugh eventually fades, sighing softly. you bite the inside of your cheek, holding back your tears, but your eyes shoot up when a sound of agreement escapes his mouth.

“sure,” he shrugs, “i guess i can give you a hand with that, too.”

you gratefully pack his things when the time comes, feeling like there’s a weight off your shoulders. you really thought it was a silly idea—a perverted one, too—but your relationship with chenle isn’t what you could call ordinary…

“aren’t you forgetting something?” he calls after you before you can leave, halting your steps as he approaches you. you look at him with wide eyes and he only smiles, grabbing your chin. “open,” he orders and you do so.

you’re surprised when he slips two of his fingers inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. you close your lips around him, but he tuts, making you open your mouth again. he spreads his fingers apart, one on each side of your tongue, and he leans down over you, collecting saliva in his mouth. he purses his lips and lets his spit fall into your mouth.

you gladly accept it and swallow it once he has removed his fingers. he wipes his digits over your pants in two motions, looking at you one last time with a grin on his face before walking away.

your hand clenches around the strap of your bag thinking about what happened and what will happen. your crush on him is really innocent, it was never supposed to be more, but the fact he agreed to your request, makes you think that maybe it can go further than just him being your tutor.

—-

“... and that’s my room,” you announce, stepping aside to let chenle in.

your teeth sink into your lip as he looks around, seeing the many plushies decorating your bed and dresser, your beauty products organized on your desk amongst the school supplies. his eyes go over your entire room, noting the overly feminine aesthetic of it.

you play with your fingers as chenle walks over to your dresser with hands in pockets, not really knowing what to do or say now that he’s here. you curse yourself mentally, thinking that you should have never proposed that.

he grabs a baby blue dolphin plushie off the dresser, turning it around to inspect it, finding the pink ribbon tied in a bow around its neck cute. he puts it back down, finally facing you, still standing in the same spot as earlier.

“kinda childish,” he observes, “but it fits you.”

you’re not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment, but you nonetheless thank him in a small voice and he smiles in return.

he glances at your bed and decides to take a seat on it, the mattress dipping under his weight. you take hesitant steps toward him and he follows you with his gaze, seeming almost malicious.

“so, um… how do we do this?”

he gestures to you with a nod of his head, making place for you on the bed. “come here.”

you execute yourself and sit down, turning your torso toward him. he shifts closer, placing a hand on the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his. it’s slow and gentle at first and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, moving your lips over his, even though you don’t really know what you’re doing.

chenle pulls back and you can see his lips shining in both of your spit, making you want more of him. “this was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” he lightly chuckles and you give him a shy nod. “i could tell… it felt like kissing a dog,” he snorts.

you gulp, blood rushing to your cheeks. “i’m sorry,” you apologize, voice low, a little shameful.

he only hums in response, his eyes going down to your pouty lips. he then brings you back to him, but this time, he takes full control of your mouth and you have a hard time following him. he kisses you expertly, taking your breath away.

but you squeak when he traps your lip between his teeth, biting down hard. he lets go of you as you flinch away, looking at him with a frown, but he just stares back at you blankly. you can feel the trace of his teeth inside your mouth when you pass the tip of your tongue over it.

“chenle…”

he rolls his eyes at your whine. “if you back away from a simple kiss, how do you expect me to teach you anything?” he scolds.

he’s right. it’s only the beginning and you’re already acting like a coward. chenle is way more experienced than you, you know you have to listen to him, but was the bite necessary?

you scoot back to him and your knee knocks into his. chenle seems impatient now, taking a hold of your neck again. he crashes his mouth on yours and you moan at the clash of your teeth. he brings you down to the mattress, hovering over you.

your hands fly to his t-shirt, twisting the hem between your fingers. his palm moves to your throat and his other hand pins your hips down, fitting himself between your legs. you feel his bulge rubbing against your clothed pussy and the temperature of your room suddenly rises up.

chenle breaks the kiss and backs away a little to be able to lock eyes with you. you’re breathless already, mouth agape and lips all swollen.

his hand that was on your hip slides down your stomach, fingers sneaking under the band of your leggings. you gasp when his rough fingertips come directly in contact with your bare folds that are, without surprise, sticky with your arousal.

“virgins are always so wet,” he almost growls and the look in his eyes takes you aback. chenle seems… hungry, his pupils totally dilated. “and you’re fucking soaking just from that little kiss.”

chenle pinches your clit between his thumb and forefinger and you flinch from the sudden sting. the pain fades away as he rubs circles on you, the pleasure quickly building up in you. you can’t help but let out a small gasp.

“you don’t even need prep… i bet that hole is already all nice and wet for me,” he says, accelerating the pace of his fingers. the coil at the pit of your stomach tightens and you feel your orgasm approaching really fast.

he watches your brows knitting together as you buck your hips against his hand, hands and legs shaking, shocks of pleasure passing through your body.

his hand leaves your panties after that and you’ve barely recovered from your high that he moves you to the middle of the bed, flipping you on your stomach. his movements are fast and chenle doesn’t waste any time. you don’t like how he’s treating you, and you’re confused by his rough behaviour. this was supposed to be helping, not… degrading.

“chenle, this isn’t… i don’t-” you stop in the middle of your sentence, fear settling in you as he grabs a fistful of your hair and lifts your head up, his mouth right beside your ear.

“you’re a good girl, right?” he asks and you frown, your pout deepening. “you let me handle it. you’re too fucking dumb to do anything useful anyway.” his voice is stern and cold. it’s not like he’s never spoken to you like this before, but right now it hurts. has chenle thought so lowly of you all this time?

you feel tears kissing your eyes, gasping as he pulls your leggings down your thighs along with your panties, exposing your private parts to him. you feel the air hitting your bare skin and goosebumps travel your skin.

you look over your shoulder and you get the glimpse of him fumbling with the belt of his pants, dragging his zipper down. he hooks his thumbs under his briefs and tugs them down, freeing his hard cock out. your breath itches in your throat when he pushes at your entrance, and even though you’re covered in your slicks, you still feel a burning pain at the intrusion of his length inside of you.

“it hurts, please, chenle…”

he doesn’t respond, focusing on your pussy literally sucking him in, gritting his teeth as he thrusts all the way in. you’re so tight he can’t even breathe.

he leans over you, his chest flushed to your back. his fist clenches around your hair, shoving your head into your pillows, some of the stuffed animals on your bed falling to the side, others hitting the floor.

“pleasure comes with pain, baby,” he whispers, “get used to it.”

#[ ★ ] dark content #— ☆ starring dream #w/ chenle !#nct smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #chenle smut #chenle x reader

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swappedandtrapped · 2 months ago

Text

Swapping Research - Part 1

Starting to try and use AI for translations to English. I don't like it, but writing in English is exhausting.

Part 2 here Part 3 here

Marcus Chen gripped the bathroom sink, staring at his reflection in the fluorescent-lit mirror. "Trapezium, trapezoid, scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum, pisiform…" The naming of hand bones did little to slow his racing heart. Organic chemistry in thirty minutes. Dr. Zhang's infamous molecular mechanisms exam.

The bathroom door banged open. Tyler Reeves filled the doorframe, six-foot-three of basketball glory in team outfit, a crumpled paper in his hand.

"Thought I'd find you in here." Tyler's voice echoed against the tiles. "Pre-exam ritual?"

"I was trying to make sure I remember everything for the exam," Marcus said, straightening and adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. "Some of us can't coast through life on jump shots."

Tyler's smile disappeared. He held out the paper: a formal notice from the university. "They said I'm on academic probation. One semester to get my GPA above a 2.0 or I lose my scholarship."

Marcus scanned the notice. "I told you to drop Evolutionary Biology. You needed to start with—"

"Not the point, Marcus." Tyler ran a hand through his too-long hair, his usual confidence replaced by a mild sense of desperation. "I need help. Not tutoring. Something… different."

"I have an exam in 30 minutes, and my med school interview next week. Whatever this is—"

"My cousin Alex," Tyler interrupted, lowering his voice as someone entered a bathroom stall behind them. "She's doing this neuroscience PhD thing. Consciousness… transfer. Temporarily."

Marcus stared at him. "You're describing science fiction."

"It's real. She's been mapping neural pathways, testing it on rats. They're… they're switching brains, Marcus. She needs human subjects." Tyler leaned closer, voice urgent. "Twenty-four hours. That's all. I just need to know what it feels like."

"What what feels like?"

"To have a brain that works right." The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. Tyler glanced around, then continued quieter: "I don't really like to talk about it. I'm dyslexic. Bad. Words swim around, flip backwards. Dad refused to get me tested.

Marcus remembered high school, Tyler recording lectures instead of taking notes, always asking to study together but never reading aloud. The pieces clicked into place.

"Tyler, I'm sorry, but consciousness transfer? It's just not possible."

"It's real. She's proven it. Just twenty-four hours in your body. To read and prepare without feeling like drowning, so I can maybe actually get something into this thick skull" Tyler's eyes held a desperation Marcus had never seen. "Please. I'm out of options."

Marcus thought of his carefully planned week, his interview preparation, his parents' expectations. "This is insane."

"One day. Then everything goes back to normal. I promise.

---

Alex Nguyen's "lab" was a repurposed storage room in the neuroscience department basement, filled with humming equipment that looked cobbled together from different decades. Monitors displayed brain scans in pulsing colors..

"The procedure is non-invasive," Alex explained, her undercut hairstyle severe under the fluorescent lighting. She adjusted electrodes on a strange helmet apparatus. "Consciousness mapping uses quantum entanglement principles to create a temporary neural signature exchange."

Marcus eyed the setup skeptically. "This can't possibly have IRB approval."

Alex's eyes flicked to Tyler, then back to Marcus. "We're in the theoretical testing phase."

"She means 'no,'" Tyler translated.

"The risks are minimal," Alex continued, typing rapidly on a keyboard. "Temporary disorientation, mild synesthesia, possible dream disturbances. The transfer nullifies and reverses naturally after approximately twenty-four hours."

"Has anyone done this before? Human subjects?" Marcus asked.

Alex's slight hesitation told him everything. "You'd be the first complete transfer. But the animal studies are promising. Rats with trained maze behaviors maintained those memories in their new bodies."

"This is crazy," Marcus muttered, but didn't leave. Something in Tyler's desperation had touched him. The vulnerability beneath the confident facade.

"Please. I wouldn't ask if there was another way." Tyler said quietly.

Marcus thought of their childhood: Tyler defending him from bullies in elementary school, the effortless way he navigated social situations that left Marcus paralyzed with anxiety. Maybe he owed him this.

"Twenty-four hours," Marcus said firmly. "Then we switch back, no matter what. I have that interview next week."

Alex gestured them toward two reclined chairs. "You'll be unconscious for approximately thirty minutes during the transfer. When you wake, you'll be in each other's bodies."

As Alex attached electrodes to his temples, Marcus felt panic rising. "Wait. How will we prove this actually worked? That it's not suggestion or—"

"Tell me something only you would know," Alex suggested. "Something you can repeat back afterward."

Marcus thought for a moment, then leaned over to Alex and whispered, "I secretly watch 'RuPaul' when I'm stressed."

Alex grinned. "The drag show? Seriously?"

"Don't judge. Tyler, it's your turn."

Tyler hesitated, then whispered something that made Alex's eyebrows rise.

"Didn't expect that," Alex said. "Ok, now that that's done, are you Ready?" Alex asked, hovering by the switch.

"No," Marcus admitted.

"Do it anyway," Tyler said.

The electricity began as a gentle hum at the base of Marcus's skull, spreading outward. Panic fluttered in his chest as the room blurred. His last thought was a desperate recitation—trapezium, trapezoid, scaphoid, lunate—before darkness pulled him under.

---

Marcues' consciousness returning felt like being yanked from deep water. He gasped, his body feeling impossibly wrong: longer limbs, different center of gravity, a dull ache in the right knee. His stomach heaved, and he barely managed to turn before vomiting on the floor.

"Easy," came Alex's voice. "Disorientation is normal."

Marcus looked up, vision swimming, and felt a primal horror unlike anything he'd experienced. Across the room, his own body was sitting up, looking at its hands with wonder. His face, but not his expressions, not his movements.

"Holy shit," his voice said from his body, Tyler's inflections all wrong in Marcus's mouth. "It worked. It actually worked."

Marcus tried to stand and staggered, unfamiliar muscles responding differently than expected. He reached up to adjust glasses that weren't there, fingers touching unfamiliar features. Tyler's features. His new nose, his soft lips, his beard scruff…

The violation went deeper than he'd imagined. Not just wearing someone else's skin, but inhabiting their flesh completely, feeling their physical pain, seeing through their eyes.

"Twenty-four hours," he managed to say, Tyler's voice emerging from his throat. "Not a minute more."

His own face looked back at him, wearing Tyler's crooked smile. It was real. Marcus wasn't in his own body anymore. And the raw, visceral wrongness of that fact threatened to drown him completely.

#body swap #male body switch #male body swap #male transformation

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ashtxrie · 1 year ago

Text

due 11:59 pm

— alternatively, enhypen hyungs as your typical high school crush!

PAIR. high school! enhypen hyungs x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. fluff, high school au, bullet points WORD COUNT. 1.8k total MAKNAE LINE VER.

이희승 — lee heeseung

varsity jackets, notes in lockers, late night calls, secret pining, basketball games

secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker

he's on the varsity basketball team, so by law you're hyping him up (disguised as hyping up the whole team) before the game and now he has to win!!! (plus he made a bet with jay about the team's winning streak)

i'd think that you two are closer than acquaintances but don't know each other well enough to be close friends

you guys probably met through mutual friends groups that kind of merged????

it was junior year when he signed up for every ap class you took just to look at your face more often.

horrible move for his gpa, amazing move for his mental well-being

... that was, until his mental well-being was compromised again because his ap calc grades were... not sexy

"help like actually i don't think my coach will let me stay on the team if i fail another quiz like that 0.05% grade decrease might be the end of my career"

you start tutoring him not because you're super confident about your calc skills, but because 1) you're better than him at least 😂and 2) it's a free excuse to hang out with him after school

you guys have your first tutoring sessions over discord vc btw like LOSERS

"can you hear me okay"

"..."

"dude you're muted"

IT WAS BAD

he's got the popular guy on the outside, an absolute loser on the inside persona

like he's lowkey a romantically awkward dude

but once he got to know you a bit more from your 1 on 1 time (still on discord.) you guys got really close!

would talk shit together right before basketball matches too

"[name] make sure to start booing when the other team shows up because unfortunately i think they're actually really good"

you're really passionate about how the other schools have horrible players (regardless of stats) and love to narrate a play-by-play with heeseung after the match is over

he finally confessed to you after a whole business year (jake and riki were about to dox their private dms by then)

you guys are like those stereotypical high school movie it couples, where it seems like two gorgeous popular people fell in love

they don't need to know he's just a hopeless romantic!!

박종성 — park jongseong

blue ink, keyboard clicks, shared laughs, handwritten notes, guitar strings

you thought he was pretty intimidating at first ngl

first day of school and he has a whole pre-established friend group, somehow found a table to sit at, has an effortless air going for him

you were paired up with him for a group project in history and

god help this man is SO straightforward and to the point

"ok so i'll do this part and you can do those parts. let me know if you have questions."

insert working in SILENCE for the next hour and a half

at least you two got your work done though!

but then, as an icebreaker in the last ten minutes of class you asked:

"oh... so, uh, do you ever wonder how liquid soap was invented?"

girl wtf!

your internal thought processing was like ??? damn who said that??? before you realized it was YOU

fortunately for you, jay was not completely weirded out!

he even looked a bit interested!

VERY interested, actually!

and that's how he began google searching like crazy, pulling up a million wikipedia articles and scouring the internet to answer your question

because how did you know he was curious about that too!

he really went from 0 to 100 and wdym you thought this man was cold and stoic

he became a d1 yapper for a solid ten minutes, up until the second the bell rang

he was even subconsciously walking with you to your lunch spot, STILL talking about william sheppard and that day in 1865

when he stops and finally realizes where he is, he actually blinks a bit before asking if you had joined any lunchtime clubs

and you were like oh yeah!! i'm in guitar club

he looked at you with the biggest heart eyes at that tbh

HE WAS IN LOVE

wdym your interests were perfectly aligned???? was he in a soulmates au

fast forward three months, and he seriously thinks he's found The One

confesses to you after playing guitar!! and he wrote a handwritten letter too with a cheeky reference to that one liquid soap conversation that started it all

you never feel like you're being "too weird" when you're with him and you two can always be your candid goofy selves with each other :))

심재윤 — sim jaeyun

muji pens, fond eye rolls, sharing books, lunch dates, lattes, TI-84s

you already saw this one coming

physics lover jake, but you've deemed physics your number one opp

HOW can this man go "i love this subject so much omg" after you've just gotten your third 72% in a row?!

it's not like you weren't smart (the class average was a 55)

and it's not like you hated the subject itself

okay maybe you did

but you just thought there were so many other alternatives other than physics to fawn over as a favorite subject. like. ANY other subject

one day, you're seated next to jake in calc and he just turns to you and starts talking out of NOWHERE

he’s like wow isn’t this so interesting? calc is like a hobby of mine!!

and you’re like boy stfu??? i’m literally struggling how is this your pastime

poor guy just wanted to make small talk and impress you with stuff he thought you were interested in… which is academics

fast forward to that afternoon in history though, and tests are passed back

you're a certified humanities girl, so you got an 100!!! academic weapon

jake, however..... is kind of an academic shield in this case

on the midterm, he had written that the victorian era ended in 1592, and filled in everything else he didn't know with "mansa musa" because it was the only thing he retained from ap world

maybe you genuinely felt really bad for hating on him when he had struggles of his own, or maybe you felt really nice that day, or maybe you were secretly hoping to get to know him more....

either way, you don't know what came over you when you tapped on his shoulder

you missed how his eyes widened a bit when he turned around, and how he looked genuinely shocked that you were talking to him in an initiated conversation! maybe his rizz was working! (maybe it was)

"there's a method that i use to memorize terms that i could teach you, if you want"

IF HE WANTS??? he would've literally jumped with joy if the paper in front of him wasn't such a nuclear bomb to his gradebook

so that's how you suddenly started spending all your lunches sitting with jake at an empty table together

he tutors you back for physics and math too, so it's fair

and DAMN it works

suddenly you two are all-rounder academic weapons???? he has your back for STEM, you have his back for humanities

like that's literally a power couple right there.

only one problem.

you aren't a couple!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you confess to him after one of your study sessions, by plotting a heart on the desmos graphing calculator using the equations that he taught you

it was super cute!!

he was literally the proudest and happiest man alive he teared up a bit (he would never admit it though)

and NOW you guys are the campus power couple

“babe look at this!” and he's waving at you with his 100 on the history final

he actually started jumping and hugging you (embarrassingly) when you found out you got a 94% average in physics at the end of the semester, giving you an A in the class

you were so shocked when you opened your report card that you didn't even register it until you heard jake go "YOOO OH MY GOD BABE THAT'S INSANE I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT YESSS I'M SO PROUD OF YOU"

well maybe thanks to jake the subject isn't so bad now!

박성훈 — park sunghoon

big school, comfortable silence, convenience stores, headphones, lingering gazes

the "everything kinda sucks here, except you" type of plot

sunghoon tries to stay out of the spotlight, keeping to himself with his head down, hood up, and headphones on

you're not really sure when you met him first actually, but you're both the same type of people where you're just going through the motions

you intrigued him though-- maybe it was the slightly melancholic look in your eyes? or maybe it was the way you purse your lips when you find a particularly hard question on the worksheets in class

either way, he finds himself wanting to get to know you more

funnily enough, he sees you at the convenience store after school as he walks home, and his feet start walking him in your direction

you see him first, and give him a smile and a little wave-- and sunghoon waves back without even thinking about it

that was the entire interaction that day, but sunghoon keeps replaying that part when you smiled and waved at him

why can't he stop thinking about it?

some things definitely changed too-- you start saying hi to him in the hallways at school, you turn to sunghoon to ask questions in class, and you seem to brighten up whenever you see him

you guys start to have conversations, starting with simple small talk, then moving to longer, more random dialogue where you both just say whatever comes to mind

the two of you become so close that you decide to walk to and from school together, since you found out that you only live a couple blocks away

sunghoon likes to place his headphones over your ears to show you new songs every morning, and you like to share earbuds in the afternoon to walk home together

he also starts to slip little notes about his day in your backpack before you go your separate ways in the neighborhood, signing off with a little p.s. to meet him at the park before sunset

it takes him SO long to muster up the courage to confess to you because he keeps thinking you'd say no

but when he finally does, all his fears melt away because you looked at him in such a soft way

he's actually reminded of why he fell for you in the first place

because with you, there’s no judgment from the outside world in the little bubble that you’ve created with him

it's just the two of you against the world <3

TAGLIST : @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic

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missarchive · 6 months ago

Text

cognitive dissonance pt 2 - spencer reid

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ part one

who? tutor!spencer reid x student fem!reader

category: fluff, smut

content warnings: NSFW MDNI!! fingering, munch!spencer, oral m. receiving, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie, snowballing, cum eating, lots n lots of praise

word count: 6k

a/n: happy new year beautiful people! part two is here!!! for the moment, I don’t have an upload schedule set up, however, I’m aiming for 1-2 posts per week :)

It had been two weeks since you’d last seen Spencer—fourteen days that felt like an eternity. Two weeks of tossing and turning in bed, chasing sleep that never came, as your mind replayed the details of your last tutoring session with him. It wasn’t just the academic concepts you’d reviewed together that stuck with you. No, it was the way he looked at you, his intense gaze lingering a little too long, and the way his voice softened when he spoke your name. The memory of his touch—gentle but deliberate—refused to fade, haunting your waking moments and creeping into your dreams.

Since then, communication had been sparse. A handful of texts here and there, each one polite, almost painfully casual. The conversations felt hollow, as if the weight of that evening had been neatly tucked away, never to be acknowledged again. You told yourself it made sense—he was a PhD student, after all, drowning in research, teaching, and responsibilities you could only imagine. Still, the silence gnawed at you. It was the kind of quiet that demanded answers you didn’t have, leaving you to fill the void with doubt and endless overthinking.

Was he avoiding you? Regretting what had happened? Maybe it was nothing to him—a fleeting moment he’d already forgotten. The thought made your chest tighten, a painful reminder of how much you cared.

You sighed deeply and flopped onto your bed, the soft glow of your phone screen illuminating your face as you scrolled through your messages. Your thumb hovered over his name, debating whether to text him. It was late—just past 11 p.m.—but sleep wasn’t an option. Your thoughts were too loud, a chaotic symphony of unanswered questions and lingering what-ifs.

And then, as if the universe had been reading your mind, your phone buzzed in your hand. The vibration startled you, and your breath caught as his name appeared on the screen.

Spencer: Still up?

Your heart leapt, the steady rhythm faltering as your pulse quickened. You sat up, gripping your phone tightly, your eyes scanning the words as if they might evaporate. Without letting yourself overthink, you quickly typed a response.

You: Yeah. What’s up?

The three dots appeared almost immediately, a sign that he was typing, and you held your breath. Each passing second felt like an eternity. Finally, his message arrived, and your heart did a little flip.

Spencer: Been thinking about you.

Heat rose to your cheeks, your face flushing as his words sank in. A rush of emotions swirled within you—excitement, nervousness, and an undeniable thrill. You typed back, trying to sound nonchalant, though your hands were trembling.

You: Oh? What about me?

The seconds stretched out again, the anticipation nearly unbearable. When his next message came, it was like a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

Spencer: About how good you looked on your couch.

Your stomach flipped, and your fingers hovered over the keyboard. His words carried a weight that sent shivers down your spine, reigniting memories you’d tried to suppress. Your reply came slower this time, careful but curious.

You: Is that so?

The response came swiftly, almost as if he’d been waiting for your permission to continue.

Spencer: Mmhm. I keep thinking about how soft you felt under my hands. The way you sounded when I touched you.

Your heart raced, pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. The line between apprehension and exhilaration blurred as you reread his message, your mind spinning with the possibilities of what might come next.

The air in your room felt suddenly stifling, heavy with the weight of anticipation and unspoken words. You had to remind yourself to breathe, each inhale shallow and unsteady. Your chest rose and fell as you glanced around the space, a futile attempt to ground yourself. Even though you were completely alone, a strange self-consciousness washed over you, as if someone might burst through the door and catch you in this intimate moment of vulnerability.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating your next move. Finally, you typed out a response, trying to inject a casual tone that you didn’t quite feel.

You: You’ve been busy, though. I figured you forgot about me.

The reply came almost instantly, faster than you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Forget you? Not possible.

Spencer: In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to show me again… tonight.

Your heart thundered in your chest, each beat loud and insistent, as if it might break free at any moment. You blinked at the screen, rereading his words to make sure you hadn’t imagined them. They weren’t casual; there was no mistaking his intent. His words were deliberate, confident—an invitation as clear as it was thrilling.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you typed, your pulse quickening with every keystroke.

You: Are you serious?

His response was immediate, as if he’d been waiting for your question.

Spencer: I’m already on my way.

Your eyes widened, the breath catching in your throat as you read his message. Time seemed to slow, each second dragging out as your thoughts raced. You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper aware of the clutter—the unmade bed, the pile of laundry in the corner, the books scattered haphazardly on your desk. Panic bubbled beneath the surface as you hurriedly straightened a few things, though you knew it wouldn’t make much difference.

Your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back.

You: What if I said no?

The pause before his reply felt agonizing, but when it came, it wasn’t what you expected.

Spencer: Then I’d turn around and leave you alone. But I don’t think you’re going to say no.

You stared at his message, the certainty in his words stirring something deep within you. He was confident but not presumptuous, giving you an out even as he made it clear he knew where this was heading. For a brief moment, you hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Then, with a shaky exhale, you typed your response.

You: You’re right. Door’s unlocked.

Your phone vibrated again almost instantly, his reply sending a shiver down your spine.

Spencer: Good girl.

The two simple words ignited something in you, a thrill coursing through your veins like wildfire. You set your phone down, your palms damp with sweat as you glanced at the door. The minutes that followed were excruciating, each one dragging on endlessly. The waiting made your nerves fray, anticipation twisting in your stomach like a coiled spring.

Finally, a soft knock broke the silence, sharp and precise. Your heart leapt into your throat as you stood, wiping your hands on your pants to steady yourself. Your legs felt like jelly as you walked to the door, your breath uneven and shallow.

When you opened it, there he was—Spencer. He stood with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed but his presence anything but. His eyes found yours immediately, and for a brief moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, as his gaze lingered, a slow, familiar smirk curved his lips. It was the same one that had been haunting your thoughts for weeks, and seeing it now sent a rush of heat through you.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of everything that had gone unsaid.

“Miss me?” Spencer asked, his voice warm with teasing confidence as he stepped inside without waiting for an answer.

He moved with an easy grace, his presence filling the space effortlessly. You closed the door behind him, your heart pounding like a drumbeat in your chest. He lingered by the entrance, his hands still tucked casually into his pockets, but his gaze was anything but idle. It swept over you deliberately, taking in every detail. For a moment, you were certain he could hear the rapid rhythm of your pulse.

“You seem nervous,” he remarked, his tone low and smooth, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a small gesture meant more to ground yourself than to project confidence. “Well, you did show up unannounced,” you replied, aiming for a tone of nonchalance, even as your voice betrayed a slight tremor.

He tilted his head in acknowledgment, his expression amused. “True,” he conceded, taking a single, measured step closer. His gaze remained fixed on yours, warm yet intent, as if he were studying you anew, unraveling layers you hadn’t realized were exposed. “But I had a feeling you wouldn’t mind.”

Your cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading over your skin that you couldn’t suppress. Still, you held his gaze, refusing to let him see the full extent of how deeply he affected you. “What gave you that idea?”

Spencer’s smirk deepened, his confidence unwavering. “You unlocked the door.”

The simple truth in his words made your breath catch, but before you could formulate a response, he closed the remaining distance between you. His hands rose with an unhurried confidence, cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity in his eyes. His touch was firm yet gentle, grounding yet electrifying, as he tilted your head slightly to ensure your eyes stayed locked on his.

“You don’t need to pretend,” he murmured, his voice softer now, rich with meaning. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, the touch featherlight but potent enough to leave your skin tingling. “I’ve been thinking about you every day since I left.”

The weight of his admission hit you like a wave, stealing your breath and leaving you momentarily speechless. His gaze held yours with such intensity that it felt like he could see right through you, every thought, every doubt laid bare before him.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want this again,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper, the vulnerability in your words hanging between you like a fragile thread.

His lips curved into a smile, softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something genuine, something that made your chest ache. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

The tension between you was electric, crackling in the charged silence that followed. Before you could second-guess yourself, your hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to tug him closer. His lips captured yours with a deliberation that stole your breath, the kiss unhurried but searing, as if he wanted to savor every second.

His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, the softness giving way to something far more urgent. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine, each touch igniting a fire that consumed you from the inside out.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his voice husky and filled with awe. His hands roamed over your back, his touch firm yet reverent, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you melted into him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. When his hands dipped lower, gripping your hips with just enough pressure to draw a soft gasp from your lips, he paused, pulling back just enough to search your face. His eyes, dark and filled with longing, studied you intently, his expression a mix of desire and quiet admiration.

“Still okay?” Spencer asked again, his voice calm but edged with a restraint that made your heart race.

“Yes,” you whispered, your hands gliding down to rest against the firm planes of his chest.

His lips curled into a soft smile as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good girl,” he murmured, the words low and velvety, sending a shiver down your spine.

He caught the subtle reaction instantly, his smirk deepening with satisfaction. Without breaking eye contact, his hands found your waist and gently guided you backward until your legs brushed the edge of the couch. The soft pressure behind his movements made it impossible to resist as he eased you down, following without hesitation. His body hovered over yours, the closeness making your skin tingle with anticipation.

Spencer’s lips found the delicate curve of your neck, each kiss deliberate, leaving a searing trail of heat in their wake. His hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of your sides. The warmth of his touch made you arch into him instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured against your neck, his voice dripping with admiration. “I missed this.”

The words sent a flutter through your chest, but before you could respond, his lips captured yours again, silencing every thought. His kiss was consuming, pulling you into a world where nothing else existed but him. His hands moved with practiced confidence, exploring every inch of you as though rediscovering territory he’d longed for since the last time.

Spencer’s lips left your mouth to trail down your neck again, pressing slow, lingering kisses that made your breath hitch. His hands pushed your shirt higher, sliding it up over your ribs, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that set you alight. He paused as his hands reached just below your bra, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours with a question unspoken.

His lips claimed yours again, this time more demanding, his teeth gently grazing your bottom lip before soothing the spot with his tongue. His hands slipped beneath the fabric of your bra, one palm cupping your breast with a touch that was both firm and reverent. The sensation pulled a soft whimper from you, and he smirked against your mouth, clearly pleased with your response.

“So sensitive,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles. The motion made your body arch into his touch, your breath hitching with every movement. “I could spend hours just figuring out what makes you react like this.”

The weight of his words, heavy with intent, sent a shiver down your spine. Your breath came in shallow gasps as his other hand slid down the curve of your side, his fingers finding your waistband. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes seeking yours for permission.

You nodded quickly, your need for his touch eclipsing any hesitation.

Spencer made quick work of the button and zipper, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers moved with deliberate precision, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that made your head fall back against the couch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and mischief. “So perfect.”

His words sent a flush of heat across your cheeks, but the gentle pressure of his fingers chased away any lingering self-consciousness. As he increased his rhythm, a soft cry escaped your lips, and his smirk widened.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice steady and sure. “Let me hear you. I want to know exactly how I’m making you feel.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt as your body responded to every calculated movement of his fingers. His lips returned to your neck, trailing soft kisses and playful nips down to your collarbone. The combination of his touch and his words unraveled you, leaving you at his mercy.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “You’re doing so well for me.”

The praise, his tone, and the intensity of his focus on you pushed you to the edge of control. You felt yourself teetering on the brink, the tension within you building to an overwhelming crescendo.

Spencer seemed to sense it, his movements adjusting with just enough precision to send you over the edge. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice both commanding and reassuring.

“Let go,” he said softly, his words a promise. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, the tension snapped, and your body trembled beneath his touch. A broken cry escaped your lips as waves of pleasure washed over you, each one more intense than the last. Spencer didn’t stop, his touch slowing but remaining steady as he guided you through every peak and valley, his voice a steady stream of soft praise in your ear.

When the last shudder left your body, he stayed close, his hands gentle as they traced soothing patterns along your skin. He pressed soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, and finally your lips, grounding you with his touch as the aftershocks faded.

“Beautiful girl,” Spencer murmured against your lips, his tone rich with warmth and affection, yet underscored by a quiet, unmistakable pride. His eyes, soft yet intense, held yours as though he wanted to etch this moment into his memory. “My beautiful girl.”

A shaky laugh bubbled out of you, your chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re... very good at that,” you managed, your voice still unsteady but carrying a faint edge of humor.

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound low and melodic, as his lips curled into a teasing smile. “At what?” he asked, the tilt of his head almost boyish, though his tone was anything but. “Tutoring?”

The deliberate smugness in his voice made your cheeks flush anew, the heat spreading over your skin in a way you were sure he noticed. You swatted at his arm, your touch light and devoid of any real intent.

“You know what I mean,” you said, the words soft but tinged with exasperation.

His grin widened, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing against yours in an almost playful gesture. “I do,” he admitted, his voice dropping into a hushed murmur that sent a ripple through you. “But I like hearing you say it.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture was fleeting, your amusement quickly giving way to a deeper warmth as his hand slid back up your side. His touch was steady and grounding, anchoring you in the present moment.

“Are you always this confident?” you asked, your voice quieter now, carrying a note of genuine curiosity that you couldn’t quite hide.

Spencer’s expression shifted subtly, the teasing edge softening as something more earnest took its place. His gaze swept over your face, lingering as though he was memorizing every detail. “Not always,” he admitted, his hand moving to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “But with you… it feels natural.”

The sincerity in his words struck a chord deep within you, and before you could think better of it, you leaned into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the safety and reassurance he offered. “I’ve never…” you started, your voice faltering as you searched for the right words. “No one’s ever made me feel like this before.”

Spencer’s eyes darkened slightly at your admission, a flicker of something possessive and raw flashing behind his gaze. His thumb drifted to your bottom lip, brushing against it with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

“Good,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that sent a shiver down your spine. “Because I don’t want to share you.”

The intensity of his words left you momentarily speechless, your thoughts scattered as his gaze locked onto yours, unwavering and full of intent. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unspoken promises.

Before you could summon a reply, Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was achingly slow and deliberate. His movements were measured, as though savoring every moment, his lips moving against yours with a precision that felt both practiced and deeply personal.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His touch was firm yet gentle, his presence an anchor as your emotions swirled around you like a storm.

Spencer pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as his breath mingled with yours in the quiet space between you. His eyes searched yours, as though seeking reassurance that you felt it too—that connection, undeniable and electric.

“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a flood of warmth spreading through you as you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.

"Spence," you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress as your fingers reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. The intimate gesture made his eyes flutter briefly, his expression softening as he focused on you.

"I want to try something," you continued, your voice laced with both anticipation and nervous energy.

"Mm, what's that?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, his eyes heavy-lidded as he gazed down at you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, a warmth blooming in your chest as you leaned in, brushing a tender kiss against his lips. “Something I’ve been thinking about for a while,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Will you let me?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, his analytical mind clearly at work as he tried to piece together what you meant. His hesitation wasn’t reluctance, just the natural curiosity that came with him wanting to understand.

“Of course,” he said finally, his voice soft yet steady, carrying an underlying trust that made your heart flutter. “Anything you want.”

A grin spread across your face, uncontainable in its sincerity, and you pressed another kiss to his jaw before moving with deliberate purpose. Without breaking eye contact, you slowly sank to your knees before him, your hands already reaching for the button of his jeans.

The shift in his expression was immediate—surprise flickering across his face before it quickly gave way to understanding. His pupils dilated, his lips parting as anticipation replaced his initial confusion.

“Oh,” he breathed, the word barely audible but thick with desire. “Yes, please.”

You didn’t respond verbally, letting your actions speak for you as your fingers deftly unfastened the button and slid down the zipper of his jeans. The fabric parted easily, and you guided it down his hips, revealing the outline of his already hard length straining against the material of his boxers.

Unable to resist, you leaned forward, pressing a soft, teasing kiss against the bulge. The sharp intake of breath he let out was all the encouragement you needed.

“Fuck,” Spencer hissed, his voice strained, his hands twitching at his sides as though he wasn’t sure whether to touch you or let you take the lead.

Your grin widened at his reaction, a heady sense of satisfaction coursing through you as your hands traveled down to tug his boxers lower. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed, and the sight sent a thrill through you.

Though you’d seen him countless times before, this felt different—more intimate, more charged. The proximity, the quiet hum of electricity between you, made your pulse quicken with anticipation.

Glancing up, you caught Spencer’s gaze, holding it as you wrapped a hand around his length. Your touch was light at first, tentative yet deliberate, and his groan in response sent a shiver down your spine.

His head tipped back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forced them open again, clearly unwilling to lose the connection between you. The way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the slight clench of his jaw as you stroked him—it was intoxicating.

You tightened your grip slightly, your strokes becoming more deliberate as you watched his expression shift. His breathing grew heavier, his hips beginning to rock forward in time with your movements.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice thick and low, his words barely audible over the sound of his own labored breathing.

You didn’t stop, your hand working in steady, measured strokes as you reveled in every sound, every reaction you drew from him. The way his lips parted, the slight hitch in his breath when your thumb brushed over the sensitive head—it all spurred you on, filling you with a sense of power and connection unlike anything else.

Spencer’s hand finally found its way to your cheek, his touch featherlight as his thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw. When his gaze met yours again, there was a vulnerability in his expression, an unspoken gratitude that made your heart swell.

"Fuck, angel," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "That feels so good."

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth. He tasted salty and musky, a hint of bitterness lingering on your tongue.

Spencer let out a strangled gasp, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You couldn't help but grin, taking more of him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip.

"Shit," he swore, his voice ragged.

You hummed around him, the vibrations causing his hips to buck again.

"God, you're so good," he praised, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging gently.

The words sent a jolt of heat through you, and you moaned, the sound muffled around his cock. You continued working him with your mouth and hand, relishing in the sounds he made, the way his body reacted to your touch.

He was close, you could tell. His breathing was labored, his hips rocking steadily now, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"Baby, I'm—"

Before he could finish the sentence, he came, spilling down your throat, his body shuddering with pleasure.

You swallowed him down, licking him clean as he shuddered through the aftershocks. You pulled away, pressing a soft kiss against his hipbone before looking up, your expression showing a hint of shyness.

"Was that okay?" you asked, your voice soft.

"More than okay," he assured you, his gaze heated. "That was amazing."

You couldn't help the swell of pride that filled your chest, and you rose to your feet, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips. He sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, his body still trembling slightly.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice laced with adoration.

You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading through your entire body.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning into his embrace.

In that moment, you knew that there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

Spencer wasted no time, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses and bites in their wake. His hands wandered up and down your body, mapping every curve and dip, until finally, his fingers reached the hem of your shirt.

"Can I?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

"God, yes," you gasped, arching into his touch.

He grinned, his fingers moving quickly to unbutton your shirt, exposing the thin lace bra underneath. His eyes darkened, his gaze hungry as he took in the sight.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than anything, his voice soft with admiration.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, his words affecting you more than you expected. He leaned forward, his lips ghosting along the top of your breasts, before pressing a trail of kisses along the exposed skin.

"Spence," you whined, squirming beneath his touch. "Please."

He chuckled, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing the lace-covered nipples. You gasped, arching into his touch as the sensation sent sparks of pleasure through you.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," he assured you, his voice low and husky. "We have all the time in the world."

The reminder of how much time you actually had set your mind at ease, and you relaxed into his touch, letting him explore your body at his own pace.

His lips continued their journey down your torso, tracing along the waistband of your panties until finally, he was kneeling between your legs, his fingers hooked into the fabric.

"Lift up," he instructed, his gaze meeting yours.

You obeyed, your hips rising off the desk so he could slide your skirt down, along with your underwear. He tossed them aside, his gaze roaming over you, his expression a mixture of hunger and admiration.

"Such a pretty little pussy," he breathed, his voice rough with desire.

You blushed, the praise causing a warmth to bloom deep in your chest.

"Spence, please," you pleaded, desperate for him to touch you.

He grinned, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh.

"I've got you, sweet girl," he assured you, his words a promise. "Just relax for me."

He moved his lips higher, placing a soft kiss against your folds, before finally, his tongue swiped across your clit, causing you to gasp and buck against him. He gripped your hips, holding you steady as he continued licking and sucking, teasing your clit and working you open.

You couldn't stop the cries that fell from your lips, his touch setting you on fire. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging and guiding him closer, as if you couldn't get enough of him.

He moaned against you, the vibration sending shivers through your entire body. You arched into him, your hips rocking against his mouth, seeking more friction.

"Fuck, Spencer," you gasped, his name a plea on your lips.

He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before plunging his tongue into you, the sensation causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"So good," he murmured, his words muffled by the way his tongue was moving inside you. "So sweet."

You felt the pressure building deep inside you, the tension coiling tighter with each flick of his tongue, every brush of his fingers against your clit.

"Spence, I'm gonna—"

Before you could finish the sentence, the tension snapped, and you came undone, your body shaking with pleasure.

He didn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work you through the orgasm, until finally, you slumped back against the desk, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

Spencer pulled away, pressing a soft kiss against your hip bone, before standing and gazing down at you.

"You're gorgeous when you cum," he murmured, his tone filled with adoration.

You laughed, the sound breathless, and tugged him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What about you?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Do you need—"

Spencer's lips were like fire against your skin, trailing a path of soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped you, the sound eliciting a chuckle from him.

"Is there something you want?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"You," you gasped, your hips bucking against him, desperate for friction.

He grinned, his hands moving to grasp your hips, holding you still. "Patience, baby," he murmured, his voice teasing. "I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

You couldn't help but smile, loving the playful side of him that only came out during these moments.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your tone.

His eyes flashed with amusement, his gaze never leaving yours as his fingers brushed against your core, slipping between your folds.

You moaned, the sound filling the air around you, and Spencer's lips curved into a smug grin.

"God, you're so wet for me," he murmured, his tone filled with satisfaction. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

Spencer’s words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, his deep, measured tone setting every nerve alight. His hands trailed along your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing as he settled himself between your legs.

“I think I have an idea,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to match his playful tone, though the anticipation thrumming through you made it difficult to stay composed.

He chuckled, low and rich, the sound vibrating through you as he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brushed against your skin with agonizing precision, leaving you gasping for more. “You’re so impatient,” he murmured, his words soft but teasing. “I love it.”

“Spencer,” you pleaded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you tried to press closer. “Please.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with intent. “Please, what?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a smugness that only made your cheeks burn hotter.

“You,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you.”

His lips curved into a small, approving smile, and he reached down, unbuckling his belt with a confidence that made your heart race. “Good girl,” he murmured, his praise making your body respond instinctively, your hips shifting toward him in anticipation.

He pressed his forehead against yours as he adjusted himself, his length brushing against your entrance in a way that made you gasp.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his tone soft but edged with something darker, more commanding.

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands sliding to his back, desperate for more of his touch. “Please.”

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With one slow, deliberate motion, he pushed inside, the stretch leaving you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he filled you completely, his movements precise yet measured.

“God,” he groaned, his voice unsteady as he paused, giving you a moment to adjust. “You feel so fucking good.”

You couldn’t form words, your mind overwhelmed by the sensation of him, the way he fit perfectly against you. Instead, you let out a soft moan, your body arching into his as you clung to him.

“You’re so good for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deliberate at first, each one calculated to make you feel every inch of him.

“Spencer,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as you tried to keep up with his pace.

He grinned against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s it,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “Let me hear you.”

His words only heightened the sensations, the tension building in your core with every movement. His hands tightened on your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts as he buried himself deeper with each motion.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with reverence. “So perfect.”

The intensity of his gaze, the rhythm of his body, the sound of his praise—it was all too much, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“Cum for me, sweet girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was both commanding and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

His words were the final push you needed, and you shattered beneath him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Spencer’s movements didn’t falter, his pace steady as he guided you through your release, his own groan of satisfaction filling the air as he followed you over the edge.

When you finally came back down, your body spent and your breathing uneven, Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Body moving back down your body to rest between your legs once more. “I can’t- Spence…” Your hands reach down to grip onto his hair instinctively.

He immediately presses a kiss to your inner thigh, thumbs smoothing over your swollen pussy lips. “Shh, pretty girl. I won’t, I’m just looking. Will you let me, hm?” You whine slightly but nod nonetheless, completely entranced.

Gentle hands squeeze at your flesh and spread you open, folds parting to show the slick, milky trail of cum leaking out from your hole. Leaning down to press one final kiss to your clit, he glides his tongue up through your cunt, collecting it all on his tongue before claiming your lips back in a kiss and forcing his cum inside your own mouth.

You moan into his mouth, his arms now wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “I don’t ever want to forget how you taste.”

You smiled against his chest, your cheeks still flushed as you murmured, “I won’t say no to that.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting, and for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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