Pairing: 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐮 - 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲! 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Summary : She’s always been the quiet, studious girl—lost in her books, ignored and mocked by everyone around her. A world of hurt she hides behind her glasses and trembling lips, convinced no one could ever care for her.Then there’s Niki. Cold, cruel, and impossibly magnetic. The boy who teases her, pushes her to the edge, and yet makes her heart race with every smirk, every whisper, every impossible touch. In a world where he mocks her and she fights to hold herself together, the line between fear and desire begins to blur. Every stolen glance, every harsh word, pulls them closer into a storm of dark emotions, where love hurts, and passion is laced with pain. But can a girl who’s been broken for so long ever survive the boy who might be the only one capable of loving her—or destroying her completely?
Warnings : Bullying, Cursing, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Suggestive Content, Fingering, Praising, Mockery, Oral sex, thats all!
You were never one for noise.
Books didn’t call you names.
Your entire existence had been built on studying — memorizing textbooks, writing perfect notes, chasing perfect scores. And because of that, people had names for you. Ugly nerd. Teacher’s pet. Attention whore. You heard it all in hushed whispers and giggles when you walked past. You heard it louder when someone was feeling bold.
But you didn’t care — or at least you pretended you didn’t. You swallowed the words, let them rot in your chest, and kept your head down, pen scratching against paper.
You told yourself you didn’t care.
Especially when he said it.
You hated the way his stupid blonde hair caught the light, like he was some kind of main character. It was always messy — too perfect in that careless way — like he woke up late, didn’t try, and still managed to look good.
You hated how tall he was, how he filled every hallway with his presence like he owned it. Those broad shoulders and long legs made him impossible to ignore — he leaned against lockers like they belonged to him, gum lazily in his mouth, shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins in his forearms.
Even his smell annoyed you — that stupid sharp cologne mixed with mint gum that stayed in your clothes after he brushed by you.
Dark, narrow, and always looking like they were laughing at you. Like he knew how small you felt every time he cornered you.
The boy with the sharp tongue and sharp smirk. The one leaning against lockers like he owned the entire hallway. He had that careless aura — gum between his teeth, laces untied, eyes half-lidded but always calculating. And for some reason, it was you he always gravitated toward.
Maybe it was because you never fought back.Maybe it was because you never cried in front of him.
He liked to remind you how small you were. Sometimes, it was his words — whispered right against your ear when he’d yank you by the hair and pull you back against his chest. Sometimes, it was the way he’d snatch your homework without thanks, or the way you found yourself buying him things with your own money just so he’d leave you alone for a little while.
“You’ll always be my little errand girl, huh?” he had whispered once, his breath hot against your ear as your books threatened to spill from your arms. “So obedient. So weak. I almost feel sorry for you.”
You never cried in front of him. Never. But when you walked away, eyes burning, your throat would ache with the sobs you swallowed down.
That afternoon, the classroom was its usual chaos. Laughter bouncing off the walls, paper balls flying, voices loud enough to drown out thought. But you weren’t listening. You never listened. Your eyes were glued to the neat lines of your textbook, tracing each word, every equation, as if the letters themselves were the only friends you had.
And Niki — he was behind you.
Leaning back in his chair, gum cracking lazily between his teeth, eyes narrowed as he watched the back of your head. There was something unsettling in the silence of his stare, but you didn’t notice. You never did.
“Pathetic little thing,” he muttered under his breath, though no one else heard.
Your bubble shattered with a sharp yank.
A sudden sting in your scalp made you yelp softly, your hand flying up to your hair as your book slid off your desk.
You blinked up to see her.
The one girl you hate a lot — a perfect storm of lip gloss and cruelty.
“Well, well,” she sneered, twisting a strand of your hair between her fingers. “If it isn’t the little nerd freak. Still pretending you’re better than everyone else, huh? You think sitting there with your stupid books makes you important?”
Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The heat burned behind your eyes, tears threatening to spill, but you bit your tongue. You always did.
The girl’s grin widened. “What’s wrong? Can’t talk? Or are you too busy fantasizing that one day someone’s actually gonna like you? Newsflash, sweetheart—no one does. Not even your precious teachers.”
You felt your chest cave in at the words. Your fingers trembled against your desk, nails digging into the wood as you tried—tried so hard—not to cry.
The voice was low, sharp, and made the entire room pause.
The girl holding your hair scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What’s it to you, Niki?”
His chair scraped back, slow and deliberate. “I said,” his voice was colder now, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, “let her go.”
The girl faltered. She wanted to argue, you could see it in the curl of her lip. But one look at his glare had her hand snapping back like she’d been burned.
“Tch. Whatever.” She flipped her hair, muttering under her breath as she walked off.
But you weren’t relieved.
Because your vision was already blurring, fat tears clinging stubbornly to your lashes. Before anyone could see them fall, you shoved yourself up from your seat, chair screeching against the floor, and bolted.
The bathroom door slammed behind you.
And finally, finally, the sobs broke free.
Your hands gripped the edges of the sink, shoulders trembling as you bent over the porcelain. Cold water splashed against your face, but it did nothing to wash away the ache in your chest.
The mirror blurred again. You pressed your forehead against the glass, swallowing down the storm inside you until you could breathe again. Then, with shaking hands, you wiped your cheeks, fixed your hair, and forced yourself to look okay.
But when you stepped out, you weren’t alone.
Leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest, waiting.
His gaze trailed over your red eyes, the dampness on your skin, and lingered. He didn’t look smug this time. But he didn’t look kind either. Just… unreadable.
You turned away, forcing your feet to move, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Are you always this pathetic?” His voice cut through the air like a blade. “This helpless? Running away to cry in the bathroom every time someone says something mean?”
You stopped. Your fists clenched at your sides.
“You let people walk all over you. Do their homework. Buy their food. You don’t even fight back. God, you’re pathetic.”
His words sliced deeper than the girl’s ever did. And maybe that’s why you spun on your heel, teeth gritted, eyes burning.
“Shut up,” you hissed, voice trembling but sharp.
He smirked. Slow. Dangerous. “What was that?”
He chuckled, the sound low in his chest. “Cute. The little crybaby has a temper.”
Something inside you snapped. You stormed toward him, shoving hard against his chest.
“SHUT UP!” Your voice cracked, tears spilling hot down your face as you pushed him again. “Just shut up! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of you!”
Your small hands shoved at him over and over, but he didn’t budge. Not even an inch. Until his hand shot out, catching your wrist, twisting it easily in his grip.
In a blink, your back was slammed against the wall, his body caging yours in place.
You gasped, squirming, trying to shove him away, but he was stronger. So much stronger.
His eyes dropped to your flushed, tear-streaked face. The anger burning in your gaze. The way your lip trembled even as you glared at him.
For the first time, he thought you looked… cute.
His voice dropped, low and dangerous, lips inches from your ear.
“If you ever raise your voice at me again,” he whispered, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”
You froze. Your chest heaved, eyes wide, confusion breaking through your anger.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, that smirk curling on his lips again. “Pathetic.”
And then, just like that, he let you go.
Your knees almost buckled at the sudden release, your wrist aching where his fingers had been.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
You stood there, trembling, your chest tight with everything at once—anger, shame, sadness, and something else you couldn’t name.
The next day felt no different.
Same crowded hallways. Same buzzing voices. Same stares.
Your arms were full of books again, heavy against your chest as you balanced them carefully, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose with a tired sigh. You walked quickly, eyes down, as if the floor tiles were safer than the faces staring at you.
A foot slid out in front of you. You didn’t see it.
You stumbled, gasped softly, and then— thud.
Your knees hit the ground, sharp pain shooting up your legs as your books scattered across the hallway like broken glass.
A couple of snickers echoed around you.
“Oh—oops,” the guy who’d tripped you drawled, crouching slightly with a mocking smile. “My bad. Guess nerds can’t even walk straight, huh?”
Your lips pressed together, trembling as you bit down hard to stop the tears. You didn’t say a word. You never did.
Instead, you gathered your books with shaking hands, trying to ignore the sting in your bruised knees, stacking page after page as if collecting the pieces of your dignity.
Standing a few steps back, leaning lazily against the lockers, gum tucked in his cheek as his eyes followed every movement of yours. Watching you on the floor like some fragile, breakable thing. His expression unreadable.
You stood, clutching your books tight, exhaling shakily before forcing your legs to move again.
That’s when his voice came. Low, smooth, dripping with mockery.
“You fall a lot, don’t you?”
You flinched. You always did at his voice.
But you didn’t turn. You didn’t even glance his way. You just kept walking, your steps quick, heart pounding.
He followed. His strides lazy, hands in his pockets, smirk tugging at his lips.
“What’s wrong? Too busy running to class, little crybaby?”
You swallowed hard. Ignored him.
“Or maybe you’re just practicing crawling—since you spend so much time on your knees picking up your precious books.”
Your grip tightened around them. Still, you kept moving.
“You know, you’d be so much more interesting if you weren’t so boring,” Niki hummed, tilting his head as he watched your back. “It’s like you exist just to be everyone’s punchline. Hell, maybe even your family thinks that, huh?”
Your shoulders tensed, fists tightening until your knuckles turned white. Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes glassy but sharp, teeth clenched.
“Don’t,” your voice cracked, trembling but laced with anger, “don’t you ever bring my family into this.”
For a second, Niki stilled. Then he chuckled—low and mocking, raising his hands in fake surrender.
“Whoa. Look who grew claws.”
Your glare could have burned holes through him, but you said nothing else. You spun back around, storming toward your class. He only smirked wider and followed, his footsteps deliberately loud behind you.
Class was supposed to be your escape.
The one place where knowledge drowned out the noise. Where the teacher’s voice steadied your frantic heart.
Because he was behind you again.
Your hands gripped your pen tightly, eyes locked on the board as you scribbled notes with precision. Every word the teacher spoke you wrote down, anything to keep your mind off the fact that Niki’s presence pressed against your back like a shadow.
Your chair jolted, a small kick from behind.
You froze, glancing down.
Niki leaned back lazily, foot against your chair leg, smirking at the way you stiffened.
You inhaled deeply, closed your eyes for a second, and ignored him.
Your jaw clenched. You kept writing.
He tilted his head, watching your every reaction, gum cracking between his teeth.
The shove was so strong it nearly sent you flying off your seat, your books sliding forward as your chair screeched against the floor.
Your breath caught. Tears welled up instantly, but this time—this time—you didn’t swallow them down.
You shot up from your seat, spinning around, your voice raw as it ripped out of your throat.
The entire class went silent.
Every head turned. Murmurs spread like wildfire.
And Niki—he just sat there. Smug. Leaning back with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed with that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.
“Well,” he drawled, “guess the nerd finally learned how to talk.”
Your heart pounded, your face burning with shame and anger as the whispers filled the room.
“What’s going on back there?” The teacher’s voice cut through the tension, stern and sharp. His gaze flicked between you and Niki.
“Both of you,” the teacher snapped, “detention. After class.”
Your stomach dropped. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as your throat tightened.
“Yes, sir,” Niki replied smoothly, not even pretending to hide his grin.
You sat back down, chest heaving, tears burning so hot in your eyes you thought they’d spill. But they didn’t. They wouldn’t. Not here. Not in front of him.
You wouldn’t cry for him.
Instead, you stared straight ahead, your pen trembling in your hand as your notebook blurred.
The word alone felt like a punishment, but being in the same room as him? That was torture.
You sat as far from him as you could, books stacked neatly in front of you, pen scribbling over highlighted notes as if the entire universe didn’t exist. That was the only way you knew how to survive—bury yourself so deep in studying that the noise, the whispers, the cruelty couldn’t reach you.
When you dedicate yourself to learning, it feels like the only place in the world where you matter. Because in your books, you’re not pathetic. You’re not useless. You’re not weak. You’re just someone who understands.
The classroom was quiet, eerily so without the teacher. But you felt his presence anyway. The weight of his eyes on you, heavy, sharp, trailing over you like a hawk circling its prey.
Niki sat slouched in his chair, hands shoved into his pockets, gum rolling in his cheek. He wasn’t reading. He wasn’t doing anything. Just watching you.
Minutes passed. You wrote, highlighted, read. And then—
You stiffened but didn’t turn. Your eyes stayed on the page, pen trembling slightly between your fingers.
You shut your eyes, a shaky exhale slipping out before you finally turned to him.
He smirked. “Nothing. Just making sure you’re awake, nerd.”
You stared at him with heavy, tired eyes, lips pressed tight, before you turned back around.
But he wasn’t done. He never was.
“Why do you always look like you’re about to cry? Oh right—because you are. All the time.” His voice was low, taunting. “Do you even realize how pathetic you look? Sitting there, pretending your books are gonna save you?”
You swallowed hard. Stayed silent.
Niki leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing. “You’re like a broken record. Quiet, boring, useless. And you let everyone walk all over you. Why don’t you ever fight back?”
“Seriously,” he pushed, “do you like it? Being everyone’s little punching bag?”
“Or are you just scared? Scared no one will like you if you finally open that pretty little mouth?”
Your chair scraped against the floor, loud in the empty classroom.
“If you actually want me to fight back,” you said, your voice trembling but sharp, “then fine.”
For the first time, he stopped smirking.
“Do you even know what it feels like?” Your voice cracked, tears burning in your eyes. “Everyone mocks me. Everyone laughs. Every single day I wake up and wonder what I did wrong to deserve this—”
You shoved him again, your books threatening to topple from the desk.
“They trip me. They call me names. They make me feel like I’m nothing.” Another shove, harder. Tears slid hot down your cheeks now, unstoppable.
“And you—” your voice broke as you shoved him again, sobbing, “—you’re the worst of them all. You make me feel worthless. Useless. Like I don’t even deserve to exist.”
The last shove was harsh, fueled by every crack in your heart. Your sobs echoed in the empty room as you kept pushing him, desperate to get him away, desperate to make him feel even a fraction of what you felt.
Until his hand shot out, catching your wrist.
In a second, he spun you and pinned you down against the desk, his grip iron, your books sliding to the floor.
You squirmed, sobbing, trying to push him off. “S-stop—just stop!”
His jaw clenched, eyes dark as they burned into your face. He grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing your tear-streaked face up to him.
“I told you, If you ever lay your hands on me again,” he hissed, voice low and dangerous, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”
Your breath hitched, sobs choking out of you as your eyes widened, staring up at him with trembling lips.
“Why?” Your voice was so soft, so broken, it almost didn’t sound like yours. “What did I do wrong? Why is everyone treating me like this? Why are you treating me like this? I never did anything wrong. I never hurt anyone. So why—why me?”
Each word came out between hiccuped sobs, your chest heaving, your tears soaking the edge of his hand as he held your jaw.
“Let me go,” you whispered, voice shaking, tears spilling faster. “Please, just—stop.”
“Stop?” Niki’s voice was low, mocking, though something darker hid beneath it. “After all that shoving? After all that screaming? You finally fought back, and now you want me to stop?”
Your chest heaved. “Why are you doing this to me? Why is it always me? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Niki’s jaw ticked. His grip on your jaw tightened, his eyes searching your face. You weren’t lying. You weren’t pretending. You were really, truly breaking right in front of him.
“I just wanted to be enough,” you sobbed, the words trembling out of you like a confession. “I wanted someone—anyone—to see me as more than this stupid, pathetic nerd. But instead everyone just… they laugh at me. They use me. They make me feel like I don’t even exist. Like I’m invisible unless I’m a joke.”
Your lip quivered. You swallowed a hiccup, tears running freely down your cheeks.
“And you—” your voice cracked, choking, “—you’re the worst of them all, Niki. You make me feel worthless. You make me feel like I don’t matter. And I don’t… I don’t understand why. Why me? Why are you treating me like this? What did I ever do to you?”
And for the first time, his smirk faltered. His heart clenched, an uncomfortable twist he didn’t understand.
Your sobs filled the silence. “I just wanted to be left alone… I just want—“
Without letting you finish your sentence
Before he even realized it—
His lips crashed against yours.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle.
It was rough, messy, desperate—like he was trying to silence your sobs, to swallow your pain whole.
Your eyes flew wide, shock flooding your chest as his mouth pressed against yours with a harsh, demanding force. A gasp slipped from you, muffled against his lips, your tears still streaking down your cheeks.
Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight—but your body froze, trembling under the weight of his grip and the intensity of his kiss.
His lips moved against yours feverishly, unrelenting, as if he was starving and you were the only thing that could feed him. He kissed you like he hated you and needed you all at once.
When he finally pulled back, your breath hitched. You stared at him with wide, glassy eyes—your lips swollen, parted, trembling.
“Why… why did you—” Your voice broke, too weak to finish the question.
He didn’t answer. His eyes raked over your face, memorizing every detail—your flushed cheeks, the way your tears still clung to your lashes, the way your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.
“God,” he muttered under his breath, voice hoarse, “you’re driving me fucking insane.”
And then his lips were on yours again.
This time, your eyes fluttered shut. You didn’t know why—you didn’t even want to understand it—but your lips moved hesitantly against his, soft and shaky, a contrast to his rough hunger.
Niki’s hand on your wrist stayed firm, keeping you pinned, while his other hand forced your jaw open. He was relentless, sliding his tongue past your lips, tasting you, claiming you.
The kiss was sloppy, desperate—his teeth tugging at your bottom lip until a broken little gasp escaped your throat.
You hated how weak you sounded. You hated that your body was betraying you.
But the way his mouth consumed yours, the way he kissed you like he was burning alive—it made your knees weak.
He finally pulled away, letting you breathe. Your chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, your lips red and wet from his kiss. You looked up at him with wide, doe-like eyes, tears still glimmering as you tried to catch your breath.
Niki stared at you. His smirk had faded. His chest rose heavily as he dragged his eyes over your face.
“Fuck,” he whispered again, almost to himself.
Before you could even process, he leaned down, his lips pressing to your neck. You let out a tiny, broken whimper as his teeth grazed your skin, sucking harshly against the sensitive flesh.
“Y-you—” Your voice cracked as you squirmed under him, “s-stop…”
But he only smirked against your throat, his words a murmur against your skin. “You think you’re so fragile, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low, mocking. “Pathetic little fool… can’t even keep yourself together, can you?”
You shivered, biting your lips harshly, unsure if you should push him away or melt under his touch.
“Look at you,” he whispered again, teeth brushing your pulse. “Trembling like a scared little girl… so soft, so weak… so desperate.”
Your lips parted, a breathless gasp escaping, and he smirked against your skin.
“You like this, don’t you? You little coward. All hot and trembling for me… and you don’t even know why.”
Another harsh suck made you gasp, your nails curling into the edge of the desk as your body betrayed you again.
“Pathetic little nerd,” he murmured darkly, smirk tugging at his lips. “Crying for me one second, whimpering for me the next.”
And you couldn’t deny it. Not when your body trembled under him. Not when your breath caught at every brush of his mouth.
Sometimes the cruelest touch is the one that feels like fire—and you hate yourself most for not pulling away.
Niki’s lips pressed against yours again with a hunger that made the air in your lungs scatter. His kiss wasn’t soft, it wasn’t tender—it was claiming. Cold, commanding, intoxicating.
You gasped into his mouth when his hand slid down, icy and veined, brushing over your thigh. The contrast between the chill of his skin and the heat flooding your body made your head spin. His fingers caressed lazily, almost mockingly, before wandering higher.
“Wh-what are you doing…?” your voice cracked, unsure if you wanted him to stop or beg him not to.
Niki smirked against your lips, murmuring against your mouth as he trailed sharp kisses down your jaw. “Relax, little one… you’ll like this.”
Your breath hitched when his lips found your neck. He bit—sharp enough to sting, not deep enough to draw blood. You squealed softly, the sound half fear, half something else you didn’t want to name. Every scrape of his teeth made your body jolt.
“Such sweet sounds,” he whispered, his voice low and mocking. “Didn’t think you’d whimper for me like this.”
Your body betrayed you, trembling under his touch. You wanted to push him away, to tell him no—but instead you found yourself frozen, waiting for more. Why did it feel so good? Why did your body crave it, even as your mind screamed confusion?
His hand toyed with the hem of your skirt, brushing the delicate edge of fabric that felt suddenly too thin, too fragile. You shivered, not just from his touch but from the weight of his gaze. Niki noticed. Of course he did.
He cooed in your ear, soft, coaxing. “Don’t be nervous pretty girl..”
Your lips parted in a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling too fast. “Niki…” It was the only word you could manage.
“Say my name again,” he purred, kissing the shell of your ear. His tongue flicked against your lobe, pulling another helpless gasp from you. “You sound sweet when you’re nervous.”
Every teasing word, every mocking murmur, pushed you deeper into a haze. He kissed down your throat again, lingering at your pulse. “You’re burning up,” he whispered, amused.
You tried to deny it, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know what’s happening—”
“Yes, you do,” he interrupted smoothly, voice silk and venom. “Your body knows. It’s begging me.”
You whimpered softly, thighs pressing together for the smallest sense of relief. His smirk widened at the motion, sharp and knowing.
His hand goes higher up now, toying with your underwear before pushing them aside for his fingers to dip into your cunt.
You gasped loudly, shutting your thighs close at the unexpected feeling.
“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly. “So desperate and wet already, and you don’t even understand why.”
Your face burned, humiliation and pleasure tangling until you couldn’t tell one from the other. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. Those piercing, inhuman eyes glowed faintly in the low light, pinning you where you sat.
You felt his finger gently rub at the little bundle of nerves and you quickly shut your thighs and whimpered softly.
He quickly pushes your thighs apart again, not letting you close them, “Let me,” he whispered. “Let me feel that little cunt of yours..”
Before you could answer, his lips crashed onto yours again, harsher, hungrier. His kiss was sloppy, consuming, pulling helpless little noises from your throat. Your hands clutched at his shirt without realizing it, trying to anchor yourself as the world tilted.
He keeps rubbing your clit in slow circles, and god it felt so good, you whimpered softly into his mouth and he quickly swallowed all your whimpers.
When he finally pulled away, your lips were swollen, your chest rising and falling too fast. He kept rubbing your clit, until you felt his finger slowly and gently insert inside you.
You gasped at the feeling, biting your lip at the slightest burning stretch, but he quickly shushes you “Shh, be good for me, little one,” he coos softly, breath hot against your ear. “It will feel good, i promise.”
You decided to listen to him, without you even realising it, you spread your legs further apart for him, and that made him smirk.
He starts thrusting his finger gently in and out, making you moan softly at the feeling, “God your so fucking wet, are you always this wet when I’m around you?” He rasps in your ear.
You whimper and shook your head quickly, that made him chuckle “Liar..” he whispers in your ear.
Then he moves his finger a little faster before inserting another one, you arched your back and let out a moan.
Everything was so overwhelming, everything felt so weird but so good, you were burning, you were shaking, you felt like you were on cloud nine only because of his fingers.
He thrusts his fingers faster and faster, you bury your face into his shoulder and moan “N-Niki—please..” you whined.
He kisses your earlobe, “please what? Let you cum?” He asks softly, but his voice rough.
You nod desperately “Y-Yes! Please..w-wanna cum..” you whimper.
He chuckles, his fingers going faster now, pumping in and out, the loud wet squelching sound of your pussy made you so embarrassed.
Until slowly by slowly you felt your orgasm approaching, you felt like you were about to fall off a cliff.
You pant softly against his shoulder “N-Niki..I-I-“
He coos softly in your ear, “Come on, cum on my fingers baby..”
And you did, with a soft cry that was muffled against his shoulder.
You were panting and shaking, a mess.
The air was heavy when his lips finally pulled away from your neck, leaving your skin raw, burning with the ghost of his teeth. His mocking words still echoed in your head, each one sharper than the next. You hated him for them, hated the way he stripped you almost bare with nothing more than a cruel whisper.
And yet, your body betrayed you—still trembling after your orgasm, still weak.
Niki’s cold eyes flicked down at you once, unreadable, as if he was testing just how much of yourself you’d lost in that moment.
Then, without warning, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty, undone, and trembling. No smirk, no parting words, no cruel joke. He simply straightened, adjusted his jacket, and walked out of the classroom as if nothing had happened.
The door shut softly behind him.
And you were left there—alone, breathless, and broken in silence.
God that was a pretty long for a first post😭 but we yolo🔥🙏🏼 that was my first time writing smut so please don’t judge me, i promise i will get better than this.
