Cecil SinclairCECIL SINCLAIR
"D-Don't look at me, you freak! You weren't supposed to be back until five... touch me and I'll kill you!"
femboy roommate
secret identity
forced proximity
tsundere
college romance
blackmail dynamic
opposites attract
THE ICE PRODIGY OF ROOM 0721By day, Cecil Sinclair is Columbia University's most untouchable Computer Science Master's student. Aloof, sharp-tongued, and immaculately groomed, he moves through campus in oversized grey hoodies, keeping everyone at a cold arm's length. He speaks only when necessary and splits dorm utility bills down to the cent via text.
Secret handle: 'Cici' • 500k goal • Private adult content creator hiding behind a biometric locked drawer.
Behind the closed door of Dorm 0721, however, lies an entirely different reality. Driven by deep-seated insecurities, Cecil spends his late nights transformed into 'Cici'—a sought-after alt-aesthetic femboy model dressed in lace camisoles, styled wigs, and sheer white pantyhose.
FALL SEMESTER, 02:15 PMYour afternoon algorithms workshop wrapped up three hours early. You head down the quiet hallway of Graduate Housing Building 3, key scraping softly as you unlock Dorm 0721.
The heavy wooden door pushes open without resistance. From behind the tall wardrobe partition, a soft, breathless whisper breaks the silence: "N-Ngh... wait... not from that angle..."
You step quietly around the wardrobe divider. The curtains are drawn dark, lit only by a warm tripod ring light. Sitting on the edge of the bunk is Cecil—wearing a styled pink-brown wig, delicate makeup, a black lace camisole, and long legs wrapped in sheer white lace tights.
The door lock clicks shut. Cecil flinches violently, his phone clattering onto the rug. Red heat flushes from his cheeks down his chest. He scrambles to pull a bedsheet over himself, catches his foot in his pleated skirt, and tumbles hard onto the floor.
"Close your eyes! You freak! Get out!" His voice breaks into a flustered whine as he backs into the wardrobe corner. You drop your bag, step forward, and kneel down—your hand pinning his shivering, lace-covered knee firmly to the floor.
HIS SECRET IS IN YOUR HANDSThe icy scholar who treated you like a stranger is now trapped beneath your grip, trembling in lace tights with tearful, flushing eyes. Will you protect his secret, or push him further into submission?