MDNI. doing loser&nerd!Choso instead of your assigned project <3
To anybody else, Choso was just some guy. Always sat in the back of your class. Quiet, slouchy, always in the same oversized hoodie, always had his hair half-tied like he gave up midway. People thought he was aloof.
You’d learned he was just shy to the point of self sabotage.
When your professor assigned partners for the semester project, your name landed next to his.
Choso nearly dropped his pen.
You, on the other hand, smiled and slit into the seat beside him. “Looks like we’re a team.”
“Y-yeah.” He said, eyes fixed on the notebook in front of him. She’s just being polite. Don’t read into it.
Working with him was…fun. He was smart, if a little hesitant. You’d lean over his shoulder to take a look at his notes, letting your arm brush his. He’d freeze like a startled cat. You’d compliment his ideas and he’d mumble that they were just basic. You’d text him late at night about the project–really, hours no one should be awake at, especially for a stupid project–and add a teasing or are you too busy to save my grade?
He’d stare at the message for ten minutes before replying formally.
He had a crush on you so bad it hurt. So he would keep it locked down, convinced you were out of his league. That you were just naturally like this with everyone.
You met at his apartment one evening to finish your project. You’re cat on the floor beside his low table, knees almost touching his thigh.
“You’re nervous.” You point out, a small grin to your lips.
Choso quickly looks away from them and pretends he hadn’t been staring. “I’m not.”
“You’re tapping your foot.”
You giggle, leaning real close to his laptop, close enough that your hair brushes his arm. His mouth feels dry and he has to swallow. Your perfume is distracting, your bare thigh something even worse as it presses against his through the thin fabric of his sweats.
“Choso,” You purr, “Do you always avoid looking at me?”
He forces himself to glance up. Big mistake. Your face is close. Too close. You let your eyes drop to his mouth for half a second–on purpose.
Choso swears his brain short-circuits. “S-sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
You blink at him. “Uncomfortable?” Your head tilts, a sly smile settling on your face. “Cho. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”
He blinks at you. “You…what?”
Instead of answering, you reach over and adjust his loose tie (He dressed formally for your meeting in true loser fashion). Your fingers drag slowly down the front of his shirt.
“If you don't like it.” You murmur. “I can stop.”
Your hand threatens to fall, but he catches your wrist. Gentle but firm, a manner you’re both shocked to see. His voice drops lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Don’t stop.”
You supposed you would be kissing Choso by the end of the night. That’s what you had planned, anyway. You just didn’t think you’d get this far. But you’re not complaining!
Not when the cute loser who sits in the back of your class has you spread out on his bed, head between your bare thighs as he leans forward to press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.
His first touch is gentle, exploratory. Just the pad of his middle finger tracing your folds, learning the shape. You gasp, your hips lifting off the bed instinctively. He smiles against your skin, his breath warm as he continues how slow exploration.
He circles your entrance without pressing in. “You’re already so wet for me.” He murmurs, voice full of wonder. “So ready.”
He adds a second finger, spreading the slickness he finds there, before finally, slowly, pushing one finger inside you. The stretch is delicious, the feeling of being filled by him making your breath catch. He watches your face as he starts to move, his thumb finding your clit and circling it in time with the gentle thrusts of his finger.
“Good?” he asks, softly and nervously, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your hands fist into the sheets, managing a nod as pleasure begins to coil tight in your tummy. He adds another finger, stretching your further.
“Ngh- hah! Cho,” You whine as the sensation builds. His movements become purposeful. His thumb pressing harder against that sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re trembling on the edge.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, the pet name only heightening your release. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”
Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, body arching off the bed as you cry his name. He holds you through it, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing every last shudder until you collapse against the pillows, boneless and breathless.
You don’t waste a second before you’re pulling him up to kiss you, your hands fumbling to pull his sweats down. He helps you, pushing your fingers away to do it himself. He pushes his pants and boxers down his hips.
They pool around his ankles, and you break the kiss to slide off his bed, kneeling on the floor between his legs. Choso watches you, breath ragged, his eyes darkened with desire as you take him in your hand for the first time.
He’s hard and thick, the skin smooth and warm against your palm. You stroke him slowly, watching his face as his eyes flutter closed. A soft groan escapes his lips as you lean forward and take him into your mouth. You move slowly at first, learning the shape and feel of him, listening to the sounds he makes above you.
The sharp intakes of breath, the whispered curses, the way he says your name like a prayer. His fingers thread through your hair, not pushing, just holding. He anchors himself to you as you find a rhythm. He’s quiet, but not unaffected.
He’s trying not to make a fool of himself in front of the girl he’s fantasized about a million times. You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble beneath your hands. When you look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are already fixed on you.
“B-baby,” he gasps, voice strained and bordering a whine. “If you keep doing t-that, I’m not gonna last.”
You pull back, your lips swollen and wet, and guide him back onto the bed. Choso follows your lead without hesitation. He lies back against the pillows, watching you with hungry eyes as you straddle his hips.
His hands come to rest on your waist, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there. “Shit,” he murmurs, voice thick with utter want. “Look at you.”
You lean down to kiss him, your breasts brushing against his chest as you do. He groans into your mouth, his hands sliding up your back to pull you closer. When you break the kiss, you’re both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together.
“I wanna see you.” He mutters, eyes searching yours. “Wanna watch your face when I’m inside you.”
You nod, your heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can feel it. You reach between your bodies, taking his member into your hand again as you guide him to your hole. The tip of him presses against your tightness, and you both find yourselves gasping.
“Slowly,” he breathes, his hands tightening on your hips. “Take your time, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You lower yourself onto him, inch by agonizing inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside you. The stretch is intense, overwhelming, but so right.
Choso’s eyes are locked on yours, his expression full of lust-struck wonder. “Okay?” He asks, voice trembling as he gathers all the restraint in his body. You nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from feeling so full.
“Y-yeah.” You whimper. The way he’s staring at you has your walls tightening around him. Choso grunts, hands squeezing the flesh of your hips. You lean down to capture his lips as you begin to ride him. He moans into your mouth, his hands sliding from your hips to your back, holding you close.
The rhythm is slow at first, tentative, both of you adjusting to this new intimacy. Soon, you find a pace that feels natural, your hips rocking against his in a steady, rolling motion. He breaks the kiss to watch you through lidded eyes, glazed over with pleasure.
He’s practically drooling at the mouth as his hips jerk upwards to try and meet your thrusts halfway. Your full breasts move with your motions, begging for his attention. He finds purchase on them, thumbs softly circling your hardened nipples in amazement like he can hardly believe this is happening.
“Fuck, pretty,” he whines, “You feel so good. So tight, perfect f’ me.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat through you and you move faster, your body taking over as that familiar coil builds in your belly. He meets your movements, thrusting up into you with each downward stroke, filling you completely and deliciously each time.
“So beautiful like this, takin’ me so well.”
The praise makes you moan, head falling forward to rest against his shoulder. He turns his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. The room is full with the sounds of your shared heavy breathing, the nasty creak of his old bedframe, the soft slap of skin against skin.
“Harder, Cho,” You yelp, voice breaking on the words. “Please.”
He doesn’t hesitate. His hands tighten on your hips as he guides you, putting all of his force into thrusting up into you. It’s deeper, more intense. You swear you can see stars bursting behind your closed eyelids.
“That’s it, baby,” He pants, his control slipping. “Take all of me, let me feel you.”
You cry out as pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body tightening around him. He’s hitting that perfect spot over and over, and you can feel your second orgasm building, faster and stronger than the first one he gave you.
“Come for me, angel,” He begs, “Wanna feel you come around me.”
His words are all it takes for your climax to crash over you, body convulsing as you scream his name. He holds you through it, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release.
“C-close,” He warns, burying his face into your collarbones and biting down ever so slightly. He wants to leave a mark so badly. Stake his claim and leave proof behind for the next guy to see. “Where–”
“Inside,” You plead, hands tangling in his black locks. “Wanna feel you.”
This is even better. He doesn’t let himself wonder if you’ve let another man do this before. Doesn’t let himself wonder if maybe he’s special. He simply obeys, a broken whimper of your name spilling from his parted lips as he finds his own release.
You feel the warmth of him filling you, and it sends another, smaller wave of pleasure through your already sensitive body,
For a long moment, neither of you moves. You stay wrapped around each other, breathing heavily in the quiet room.
Choso is the one to break the silence, groaning softly. “Our presentation.”
You blink. “What about it?”
“The laptop probably timed out.” he mutters, avoiding your eyes all shy like he isn’t still inside you. “I didn’t save our last slide.”
You prop yourself up, staring at him. “You’re thinking about the slideshow right now?”
“We worked hard on it.” he deadpans, then adds, quieter, “Also I don't want to fail the class after…this.”
You giggle at his words, the sound warm and just a bit smug. “Well, you can relax. I saved it when you shoved your tongue down my throat.”
Choso hides his face in the crook of your neck, half embarrassed and half relieved. “Thought i was supposed to be the smart one.”
“You are. Just not around me.” You coo, squeezing him.
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