She came over with books, snacks, and her laptop.
No warning. No text. Just a "I’m outside, open up," followed by a knock and the scent of something cheesy and spicy.
"Did you just barge in with an entire buffet?" I asked as she strolled into my shoebox apartment like she owned it. Correction: like she paid for it.
"I brought protein," she said, holding up a food container like it was a trophy. "You’ll need it."
"...Why would I need—?"
"Because we’re studying. Obviously." Her grin made it very obvious it was not obvious.
She wore a hoodie — oversized, black, with a tiny designer logo on the chest — and jeans. Just jeans. She looked hot. She always looked hot, and I hated that I noticed every time.
We studied. Or, tried to. She asked a few questions, answered mine faster than Google, then munched on chips like the villain in an anime.
Then, after destroying my attention span and academic focus, she flopped beside me and opened her laptop.
"Movie?" she said, like we were some boring couple doing movie night.
"You said we were studying."
"I lied. You believed me?" She blinked, then started the movie without waiting for my answer. "That’s on you, virgin boy."
I sighed. But I didn’t stop her. Of course I didn’t.
I muttered under my breath, a little too sadly, "I thought the protein meant something else..."
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "I did say protein, didn’t I?" Her voice dropped into that dangerously soft tone. "You’re the one with the dirty mind."
Her eyes stayed on the screen, but the smirk she was biting down told a very, very different story.
Two hours later, I was still sitting there like a hostage.
I tried not to look at her too much, but every time I did, I caught a glimpse of her legs curled up on my couch. Or her fingers twirling a lock of hair. Or the way her hoodie shifted when she leaned forward and—
Okay, I was struggling. Bad.
"Val," I started, my voice cracking like a boy who hadn’t hit puberty yet.
She glanced at me with a raised brow. "Hmm?"
I coughed. "Aren’t you... like, usually dressed more... I dunno, evil?"
"Evil?" She smirked. "Explain."
"I mean, not . This hoodie is throwing me off. I thought you’d come dressed in something distracting, not..." I gestured vaguely. "Comfortable."
She tilted her head, grin growing. "So you wanted me to wear something distracting?"
I froze. "That’s not— I mean, you usually do—"
"You’re getting bolder," she purred, sitting up slightly straighter. "I like it."
I regretted everything.
And then she hit me with the real bomb.
"I didn’t wear anything under the hoodie," she said casually, like she was talking about the weather. "Just in case you earned a reward."
I choked on air. "You... what?"
She grabbed the hem of the hoodie and tugged it up—slowly, like she was about to prove it. My soul left my body. I shut my eyes so hard I saw colors.
"Relax," she giggled, letting it drop again. "I wasn’t really gonna flash you... yet."
I peeked one eye open. "Why are you ?"
She leaned in, eyes glinting with danger and intent.
"If you want it..." she whispered, her voice soft and syrupy, "then ask for it."
> "Mmhmm. Demand. Beg. Whine. Whatever gets you going."
"Are you trying to turn me into you?" I muttered.
She gasped, mock offended. "Excuse me? I am a perfectly well-behaved girlfriend."
"Okay, fine. I’m a mildly unhinged girlfriend," she said, crawling closer. "But that’s why you love me."
"I know," she said quickly, cutting me off with a smug little laugh. "But I see it in your eyes. That hunger. That craving. That poor little post-blowjob confusion."
She leaned over, resting her chin on my shoulder like a cat. "Just say it," she whispered into my ear. "Say you want me to raise the hoodie."
She grinned wider. "Thought so."