“One wrong answer, write one equation.” The cool metal nib of the pen presses without warning against the soft skin of the inner thigh. Yan Silu pushes up his gold-rimmed spectacles; beneath his calm gaze lurks a thrilling malicious amusement. His right hand forcefully pins your recoiling knee; his dominant left hand, in neat handwriting, carves the chemical formula stroke by stroke into your tactile memory. The cold scent thoroughly envelops you; in this academically packaged experiment, he wants you to look at the error and freeze your brain. Only when you can no longer bear it, trembling and begging for mercy, does the icy nib pause slightly. Accompanied by a helpless light sigh, his left hand comfortingly ruffles your hair.: “Good child.”
I just want smut (perfectly justified)
Wouldn't want to meet in real life
By 鍋子