| Summary: After failing a physics test, you end up getting tutored by Wumuti, the shy, smart guy who secretly has a thing for you. One after school session in an empty classroom turns steamy fast, when the tension finally snaps… and the nerd stops holding back.
| Warnings: Soft dom Wumuti, sub reader, student x student (both characters are adults), semi-public, virginity lose, no protection.
| Word count: 1,064k
You weren’t failing everything.
Just physics. And maybe chemistry, if we’re being honest. Your teacher didn’t yell, but the disappointed sigh she gave when handing back your test hit worse than any scolding.
34%
In red pen. Underlined twice. A full body insult.
“Y/n,” she said, quiet and sharp, “you need to study. You’re not dumb, you’re distracted. Ask Wumuti for help. He’s top of the class and doesn’t mind tutoring.”
You blinked. “Wumuti?”
She raised an eyebrow. “He sits in the back. Glasses. Never misses a question.”
You had noticed him before. Always in a hoodie, earbuds in. Neatly labeled notebooks. A little twitchy. Never talked. Kind of cute, shy, flustered, brainiac type.
---
You found him right after class, still organizing his binders like it was a sacred ritual.
“Hey. Wumuti, right?”
He looked up. Blinked a few times behind his round glasses. “Y-Yeah?”
You scratched the back of your neck. “So, uh. I failed that test.”
He nodded slowly. “I saw.”
You paused. “Ouch.”
He instantly panicked. “I mean-I didn’t mean that in a mean way! I just… I saw the grade and… I think you just misunderstood the velocity formula-”
You raised a brow. “…so you were looking.”
His face went red. “I-what? N-no, I mean-”
You grinned. “Can you help me or not?”
He swallowed. “Yes. Yeah. After school. Empty classroom. We can go over everything. I’ll bring my notes.”
You gave him a half-smile. “You’re kinda intense. But sure. I’ll be there.”
---
The sunlight through the high windows looked cinematic, all golden and warm, stretching across the desks. The building was nearly silent, just the faint hum of AC and distant chatter.
You walked in to find Wumuti already set up, books stacked, pencil case perfectly arranged, a bottle of water beside his books. He looked up as you entered, nervous.
“Hi. You came.”
“Of course,” you said, dropping into the desk beside his. “You said you’d save me from academic death.”
He gave a little laugh. “Let’s start with force equations.”
---
At first, it was just normal tutoring.
Well, normal in the sense that Wumuti explained things in that soft, low voice that made formulas sound almost soothing. His handwriting was stupidly clean. You kept watching the way his lips moved while he talked, the way his glasses slid down his nose every few minutes and he pushed them back up with his knuckle.
After a while, your attention drifted.
“Are you even listening?” he asked.
You smirked. “Not really. Your lips are kinda distracting.”
His whole body froze.
“W-What?”
You leaned forward on your elbow. “You have a little crush on me, don’t you?”
He blinked fast. His cheeks went red.
“N-No-well-not a crush-I mean I admire your… confidence? Or-uh-”
You tilted your head. “You’re really bad at lying.”
He bit his lip. Hard.
Then, finally, whispered:
“…I’ve liked you for a while”
You stared at him for a second. You hadn’t expected him to admit it.
Your heartbeat stuttered. Something in your chest flipped over.
Slowly, you reached over and tugged his pencil out of his hand.
“Then do something about it.”
His breath hitched. He looked at your lips. Then your eyes. Then your lips again.
And kissed you.
It was soft, clumsy, nervous, his glasses bumped your nose, but he kissed you like it had been eating him alive. His fingers clenched your sleeve like he didn’t know if you’d vanish if he let go.
You kissed back, firmer. Deeper. His lips parted against yours, and you slid your tongue in gently, teasing until he moaned against your mouth.
The sound went straight to your gut.
---
The kiss turned feverish. Books forgotten. Desks creaking as you pushed him back slightly.
Wumuti’s hands were trembling, but he didn’t stop you when you climbed into his lap, straddling him in the chair. He made the softest sound when your hips pressed down on his.
“We’re in a classroom,” he breathed, flushed and wild eyed.
You leaned down to whisper against his ear.
“So be quiet.”
His hands grabbed your waist, tighter now, bolder. His hips moved up to meet yours.
He was hard.
You grinded slowly, letting the friction build. He buried his face in your shoulder, muffling the little moans he couldn’t seem to hold back.
“Touch me,” you whispered, your hands guiding his.
He obeyed. Tentatively at first. Then with hunger.
---
Clothes came off in a rush, hoodie over the head, shirts pushed up, skin against skin, warm and electric. His fingers brushed down your chest, tracing like he was memorizing you.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
You grinned. “Nerd.”
He blushed harder. “Still true.”
When you finally took off your pants, his breath caught.
“Can I…?”
You nodded.
He leaned down between your legs, mouth curious, tongue shy but eager. You moaned low and soft, running your fingers through his hair, feeling him get bolder with every movement.
“Fuck, Wumuti…”
He looked up, lips wet. Eyes blown wide.
You didn’t wait.
You pulled him up, kissed him hard, and whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”
His knees went weak.
“I-I’ve never… I mean-”
“First time for everything.”
---
You bent over the desk, body shaking in anticipation as he slowly worked his fingers in awkward, gentle, so careful. He whispered things like “Is this okay?” and “You’re so warm…” like he couldn’t believe it was happening.
When he finally pushed in, you both moaned.
“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Y/n…”
You reached back and gripped his wrist. “Move. Please.”
And he did.
Slowly at first, trying not to lose control, but it was too much. Too tight. Too good. He fucked you like he couldn’t hold back any longer. You whimpered, gripping the edge of the desk, legs trembling.
He kissed your spine. Your neck. Murmured your name like a prayer.
You came first, crying out into your arm.
He followed seconds later, spilling inside you with a desperate, broken moan, his body pressed fully against yours.
---
You both lay half dressed across the desk, panting. His hand was on your back. Yours tangled in his hoodie.
“…so,” you whispered, “is this part of the curriculum?”
He laughed, breathless. “Definitely not.”
You tilted your head. “You still gonna tutor me?”
He pushed up his glasses, still flushed. “Only if we always do practical application after”
I just read a fic from 2013 and left a comment on the end. The author responded within 3 hours.
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