#genderqueer guy

The lecture hall was eerily quiet as the last of your classmates filed out, their chatter fading into the hallway. You stayed behind, clutching your bag strap tightly, watching as Professor Hyunju erased the board with calm, methodical strokes. The squeak of the chalk against the surface was still fresh in your ears, the sound mixing with the rapid beat of your heart.  

You’d known this conversation was coming. Her sharp eyes had been following you all semester, and not just in the way that professors check in on their struggling students. There was something in her gaze—something that made your stomach flip, even as you avoided eye contact. You couldn’t decide if it was intimidation, curiosity, or something darker that kept your nerves on edge every time she called your name in class.  

“Wait here,” she had said earlier, her tone even but leaving no room for argument. It wasn’t a request.  

Now, you stood awkwardly by the door, your feet refusing to move any closer. She hadn’t said much else, letting the silence grow heavy as she finished erasing the board and organized her papers into a neat stack. The tension was suffocating, the space between you filled with all the words you were too afraid to say.  

Finally, she turned to face you, leaning casually against her desk, arms crossed over her chest. Her sharp, fitted blazer and pencil skirt made her look more like a corporate CEO than a college professor. Her presence was commanding, the kind that drew your eyes even when you didn’t want to look.  

“Close the door,” she said simply, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.  

You hesitated for a moment, then obeyed, the click of the door shutting making you flinch. When you turned back to her, her gaze was fixed on you—steady, unwavering, and entirely unreadable.  

“You know why you’re here,” she said, her tone calm but tinged with disappointment.  

You swallowed hard, nodding. “I’m failing.”  

“Failing doesn’t begin to cover it,” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’re barely scraping by, and if this keeps up, you won’t pass my class—or this semester.”  

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, even though you already knew the truth. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.  

“I… I’m trying,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“Are you?” she asked, her sharp tone cutting through your feeble excuse. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.”  

You flinched, your gaze dropping to the floor. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been trying, but between juggling other classes, working part-time, and dealing with the weight of everything else in your life, something had to give. Unfortunately, it had been this class—and she wasn’t letting you forget it.  

Her heels clicked softly as she stepped closer, the sound echoing in the empty room. You froze as the scent of her faint perfume wafted toward you, a subtle mix of floral and spice that made your head spin.  

“You’re capable of so much more,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “But you’re not putting in the effort. That’s not just disappointing—it’s unacceptable.”  

The way she said it, her words laced with both criticism and something almost… personal, made your throat tighten. You hated how small you felt under her gaze, like you were back in high school, getting scolded by a teacher. But this wasn’t high school, and she wasn’t just any teacher.  

Hyunju had a presence that couldn’t be ignored, a charisma that made her stand out even in a room full of people. It was more than her looks—though you’d be lying if you said her sharp features, immaculate style, and piercing eyes didn’t make your chest tighten every time you saw her. It was the way she carried herself, the quiet confidence that demanded respect and made you want to prove yourself to her, even if you weren’t sure why.  

And now, standing here alone with her, that presence was overwhelming. It pressed against you, making the room feel smaller, making it impossible to think straight.  

“Do you want to fix this?” she asked, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.  

You nodded quickly, desperate to end the suffocating silence. “Yes. I do. I’ll do better, I promise.”  

Her lips curved into a faint smile, but it wasn’t comforting. If anything, it made your heart race for all the wrong reasons. She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your knees weaken under the weight of her attention.  

“Good,” she murmured. “Because I’d hate to think you were wasting my time.”  

Her words lingered, heavy with something unspoken, as the air between you grew charged. You couldn’t look away from her, even as every instinct screamed at you to run. This wasn’t just a lecture anymore—it was something far more dangerous.  

She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. The scent of her perfume—something subtle but intoxicating—filled the air, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe.  

“You don’t take yourself seriously,” she continued, her voice dropping to a softer, almost teasing tone. “And that makes me wonder… should I take you seriously?”  

Your eyes snapped up to meet hers, your heart racing at the implication in her words. There was something in her gaze now, something darker, something… playful.  

“I-I’m trying,” you stammered, your words faltering under her piercing stare.  

“Are you?” she asked, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been waiting for someone to put you in your place.”  

Her words hung in the air, charged and heavy, and you felt your knees weaken. She took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from her.  

“Do you want me to put you in your place?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes boring into yours.  

Your breath hitched, and before you could think, you nodded.  

That was all she needed. Her hand shot out, gripping your chin firmly but not painfully, tilting your face up to hers. “Good,” she murmured, her breath ghosting over your lips. “Then pay attention.”  

Her lips crashed against yours, and for a moment, the world stopped. Her kiss was fierce, commanding, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt. You melted against her, your bag slipping from your shoulder as your hands found her waist.  

She didn’t pull away, deepening the kiss instead, her other hand threading through your hair and tugging just enough to make you gasp. The sound seemed to please her because she smirked against your lips before pulling back, her eyes blazing with satisfaction.  

“You do want your grades to improve, yes?”, she daunted, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Yes professor,” you mumbled, eyes staring up into her own.

Wordlessly, she pulled up her skirt and slid down her panties to reveal her aching cock. You marveled at the sight before she gently pushed you onto your knees.

With a look of understanding, you took her length in your hands, slowly pumping it up and down before giving kitty licks to the angry red tip.

You slowly wrapped your lips around the head, before trying to take her whole. Your hand fondled over the parts that your mouth couldn’t reach, while your other hand went to the hem of your waistband, sliding through your boxers to reach your leaking cunt.

As you took her deeper in your throat, you rubbed circles over your clit frantically, trying to bring a release to you both.

When you finally managed to swallow her whole, she let out a breathy moan before grabbing you hair and moving your head back and forth herself.

“Breathe through your nose m’love, that’s it…”she cooed, gazing lovingly at your watering eyes.

Soon, she felt herself at the brink of a climax, so she released the grip on your hair, only for her to come undone all over your face, strings of pearly white essence sticking to you. Your ministrations over your clit had worked, making you arch your back as you came with a loud groan, staining your boxers.

The professor gently but firmly held your chin, forcing you to face her.

“Maybe now you’ll start listening,” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You’ll do better, won’t you?”  

You nodded breathlessly, the words catching in your throat.  

“Good,” she said, stepping back but not before trailing her fingers along your jawline. “Because if you don’t, we’ll have to do this again. And next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”