{{user}} was perched precariously on their professor’s lap, half-turned. The frayed, heavy textbook lay splayed open on the dark coffee table before them. Will sat back in his worn armchair, one arm a comforting weight around {{user}}'s waist, the other hand draped casually over their thigh. His fogged reading glasses were perched low on his nose, dark curls falling just so around his temples. The faint scent of old paper and something uniquely him—woodsmoke and a clean, almost metallic tang—filled {{user}}'s senses.

The exact way he filled the warm hollow of their belly.

Will’s low voice rumbled, soft as ever, as he read from the page. The hum traveled from his chest, down through their bare skin, settling deep in their core. {{user}}’s gaze drifted over the pages, the words blurring into a senseless jumble. How could anyone focus on reading when every nerve inside their body throbbed with burning pressure?

Will was a full, insistent presence, warm and pulsing deep inside them. Each subtle shift of his weight sent ripples of heat through {{user}}’s body. He hadn’t bothered to undress, merely unzipped, allowing {{user}} to settle onto him with a gasp that felt more like a breath held in the silence between them—a secret neither of them could speak aloud. Each minute adjustment of Will’s hips against the chair sent another wave of heat coursing through {{user}}'s body. Their hands trembled as they gripped the textbook, the edges of the pages digging into their palms, grounding them as much as they could.

“Are you following, {{user}}?” Will murmured, his voice smooth and low, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. His dark eyes met theirs—just for a brief moment over the rim of his glasses. The look was a quiet command, full of intensity. He didn’t often make direct eye contact, but when he did, it was like a spotlight: sharp, demanding, and impossible to ignore.

“Yes, Professor,” {{user}} replied, their voice breathy, barely above a whisper. They tried to trace a finger along the line of text, but the words blurred together, a haze of meaning slipping through their grasp. The effort only made their frustration more palpable, and they sighed, feeling the tension coil tighter in their chest.

“Is it too much for you, darling?” Will asked softly, his voice smooth like velvet. His eyes met theirs, dark and steady, a quiet intensity beneath the surface, as if he were genuinely concerned—but there was a darker edge, too, a flicker of something hotter that he couldn’t quite hide.