#reader smart

[ravencincaide]

Special interests 

Summary: You were an encyclopedia of relevant knowledge and an even larger encyclopedia of irrelevant knowledge. The trick was to get you to talk; what you’d say however was a gamble. OR the time Chuuya had to ask an expert's opinion not expecting said expert to be.. well ..you. 

Pairing Academic! fem Reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by request by anon: Quiet reader who becomes outgoing in a conversation when talking about that special interest. 

Warnings: Hint at a neuro divergent reader, cursing, academia, AU-kinda? kinda sweet,

Enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________

Women within the military were rare; women within military academia were rarer. Women who were top-notch world renown within both were an anomaly. Didn’t exist but for a handful of exceptions that could be counted on one hand. They lived in a different world- reside within the safe space of books, samples and knowledge without needing to dirty their hands with actual field work or real life situations. 

Chuuya Nakahara was not particularly fond of academics. Their snobby behaviour, the way they looked down at everyone as if they were beneath them was annoying. Especially when they directly assumed that someone was dumb or in the very least dumber just because of some paper- or three, that they crammed out in the middle of the night after guidance from equally snobby so-called academic supervisors. That they’d find some insignificant theory, approach or pattern useful within one specific context and then ride that honor until the end of days. Milking money out of students or charging overpriced consulting fees. 

More than anything, Chuuya disliked how comfortable academics could live, while they made demands and analysis about the world he lived in; made claims about the underground society without any understanding of what was going on. Especially humorous was when they advised the government on some new ‘crime mitigation policy’ with the most stupid and stuck-up formulations. All the while they effectively remained clean of bloodshed and loss. 

Sometimes, Chuuya wished he could drag one of those snobs to walk a week in his shoes and then see how comfortable they would be making those insubstantial claims. To show them what true understanding meant, so they would never open their goddamn mouth again. 

Coming to a stop outside the large auditorium, Chuuya went in before leaning his back near the furthest wall. The room was surprisingly full of people; students, other academics and researchers filled up the many seats as they listened to the young, rather plain looking woman on the stage. He had come to the very end of your seminar, right at the moment where the organizer thanked you profusely for your time while at the same time trying to silence the numerous hands full of questions by repeatedly reminding people it was break time and they would resume after lunch. 

Chuuya waited until you were completely alone before he began approaching. He noticed you breathe a sigh of relief at the sudden absence of people, looking a lot more relaxed now. So much so you didn’t seem to notice his presence. For Chuuya however, making the first move suited him and his personality perfectly. 

“ Coffee?” the ginger asked in the most pleasant voice he could master as he came closer and closer to you while raising the takeaway cup from the local off campus cafe as an offer. You looked startled by his voice then tilted your head ever so slightly to the side. 

“ Do you know that drinking coffee can increase life expectancy?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow at your words which you took as a sign to elaborate '' Well some studies show that drinking coffee decreases depression and risk of developing Alzeihmers both of which have a detrimental effect on Disability Adjusted Life Years. Though it could also kill you if you overdose on it” 

Chuuya’s eyes lit up slightly at your last statement. “  Overdose?” 

“ That’s right, you would need to drink over thirty cups within a very short period of time to experience symptoms. Though actual harmful dose would need to be calculated based on the person's physiological conditions. And even then the body would try to get rid of it by vomiting. Other symptoms of caffeine overdose includes chest pain, trouble breathing–” 

“ OKAY okay” Chuuya yelled, raising his hands in an attempt to get you to stop talking. “ I get it, no coffee” 

“ Well coffee is okay as long as you are aware of your body's limitations” you stated as your eyes flickered down to his outstretched hand with the still steaming cup. You felt a certain pressure to take the cup from him but also a deep uncertainty. What if the cup wasn’t meant for you? Wouldn’t you then just embarrass yourself by attempting to take something that wasn’t yours? 

It would be rather embarrassing if you, a famous professor, applied a self-centered approach and just took things from people just because you couldn’t resist the temptation. 

And also very unlike you. 

Tearing your eyes reluctantly from the cup you studied the features of the ginger who so confidently approached you. His eyes told you he was no student or scholar. His clothes reinforced that observation.

 You picked up your speaker notes and notebooks- material you didn’t need but which brought you the slightest bit of comfort. Then you broke the brief yet heavy silence;  “ Was there something you wanted to talk about, or were you interested in my lecture on Mycotoxins presence within the underground railing of the Tokyo Subway systems, mister–?” 

“ Nakahara Chuuya” he stated setting down the cups on the edge of the speaker stand before stretching his hand out towards you with clear intentions of a handshake. You stared down at his hand, then swallowed thickly before gripping your notes slightly tighter, not extending your hand to his. The lightest of blushes dusted your cheeks- a physical reaction to your nerves and discomfort. 

“ oh and I’m doctor Y/S Y/N; Did you know that handshaking has a long historical tradition. Back in middle ages most people of importance were right handed and shaking hands was considered a peace offering and–” 

“ Very interesting facts Doctor.” Chuuya cut you off and did his best not to roll his eyes. He had to appear polite and in the very least interested in the random facts that had absolutely nothing to do with his current predicament which placed him inside this stuffy institute “ I need an undetectable poison”

“ That’s an impossibility” you proclaimed looking at him as if he were a sheltered five year old calling a rock for a butterfly. “ An undetected poison would not be a poison we would know about since we would not be able to detect it, and I can’t make assumptions about poisons we have yet to discover” you huffed in annoyance. 

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at you “ Oj stop acting stupid and being so fucking difficult and just tell me what I need to know!” he yelled the last part making your eyes widen.

 You took a step back from him, your voice shaking ever so slightly as you continued; “ I -I’m not acting stupid. I’m merely pointing out the absurdity of your request!” you replied back with a hint of confusion on your face, clearly not understanding how your reply managed to get him upset. 

Chuuya growled, his eyes flashing red. “ Just tell me what substance wouldn’t show up on a dead body's tox screen!” he hissed through squeezed teeth. 

“ Oh but then it’s not an undetectable poison but rather a poison that would clear the system before the victim is discovered and tested– or one where the chemical make up would resemble the chemicals naturally produced in the body. You should have said that directly. I have a list that might interest you back in my office!” you exclaimed and gathered the last of your materials in a neat little pile before beginning to head out of the auditorium clearly expecting him to follow.  

“ That’s what I said.” Chuuya grumbled, his eyes returning back to blue as he fell into step beside you, keeping an even pace with you.

“ No what you said was–” 

Chuuya sighed heavily as he listened to your ramble; an almost perfect recollection of your short conversation with each other. Making sure to state exactly the areas where he could have been more clear in his communication with you; completely missing that the things he said would be interpreted differently by normal people. Those people would understand the context- understand what he was after by just his name. But not you. Not unless he spelled it out for you. 

Literary. 

Sneaking a glance, Chuuya could feel the edges of his lips inching up into a small smile. The slight shake in your voice and the way you clutched your stuff to your chest reminded him more of a nervous and shy teenager rambling to hide her uncertainty, than a world renown academic. A breath of fresh air among the snobby squinters. And surprisingly, Chuuya actually didn’t mind this conversation all that much.

[obsesssedblerd]

little megumi is so smart for his age. of course he's going to be slick and try to get you and toji back together after you've broken up. he'll do little things, like "accidentally" get off at the wrong bus stop after school and go to the cafe you're at every single afternoon so you can walk him home, where you'll find toji outside working on a car since he had the day off. or "forget" his favorite dog plushie at your house, so toji has to go and get it. of course he'll stay for a little bit to catch up. or his favorite, looking up at you with puppy eyes and sweetly asking for just one more movie, which eventually leads you sleeping over for the night and spending the morning with the fushiguro family. megumi will smile to himself as he watches you and toji make his and tsumiki's favorite breakfast, quietly laughing together over old memories and stupid jokes. you'll get back together and move back in any day now.

[nanaslutt]

the jjk characters finding ur smut

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, shiu, higuruma, ino, uraume, shoko

ʚ cont: suggestiveness, crack, fluff

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

[sturnschris]

SIT ON IT.

pairings: smart!goodgirl!reader x bf!chris (everything to them here)

content: riding your boyfriends face beacuse your turned on my his nose

warnings: oral, face riding, pet names, nose fetish, kinda dumification kink if you squint. etc

lowk inspired by this edit haha

a/n: been gone for a bit but i hope this makes up for it!!

952 words.

love ya!💋

chris’s hand rests on your thigh as you sit next to him, your head on his chest. you’ve been wanting to watch this movie for school—it’s supposed to help with a report you’re working on. but you can’t focus. all you can think about is chris’s stupidly perfect features, especially his nose. it’s so perfect you just wanna… sit on it. “baby, this movie’s so dumb,” he says casually, his voice pulling you halfway out of your thoughts. “mhm,” you mumble, not even registering his words, too busy staring at him like he’s the only thing in the world. he glances down at you, his lips pulling into a soft, innocent smile. “you okay, princess?” you blink, snapping out of your trance, your face heating. “huh? yeah, i’m fine.” he nods, still smiling so sweetly it makes your chest ache. “okay, baby.” he pats your thigh gently, his hand staying there as he turns back to the screen, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through your head. chris’s hand stays on your thigh as he keeps watching the movie, but he can’t help the way he feels your gaze burning into him. “you need something, ma?” he asks, glancing down at you. “wh- n-no, m’fine, chris,” you stammer, your voice betraying you. he doesn’t buy it for a second. his hand moves to your hip. “no, you’re not. c’mere,” he says softly, pulling you onto his lap like it’s second nature. “what’s wrong, hmm?” his lips brush against your neck, leaving soft, lazy kisses. you squirm slightly, heat rushing to your face. you can’t escape it—you have to be honest. but how are you supposed to tell your boyfriend that you’ve been staring at him because you want to sit on his face? “okay… but don’t be mean,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. he nods, his smile so sweet it makes your heart skip. “promise,” he says, his voice warm and soothing, like he has no idea what’s about to hit him.

“i wanna sit on your face.” chris almost chokes on his spit, his eyes widening as he looks at you. “you wanna what?” mortified, you bury your face in his chest, mumbling, “please don’t make me say it again.” he laughs softly, his chest shaking beneath you. “okay, baby. hop on.” you lift your head just enough to study his face, trying to gauge if he’s serious. “wait… really?” he presses a kiss to your temple, his voice low and sweet. “yeah, sure. why not?” before you can second-guess yourself, he gently lifts you from his lap, shifting to lay down on the couch, his head slightly propped up on the pillow. “c’mon, ma,” he says softly, his hands reaching for you. you straddle his chest nervously, your hands trembling slightly as they find his shoulders. his arms hook underneath your thighs, steadying you as he lifts you up toward his face, his movements gentle but deliberate. your heart races as you realize he’s absolutely serious—and you’re about to find out just how serious.

he kitten licks your clit, and you let out a sharp gasp, instinctively moving down onto his face. his tongue moves in slow, deliberate strides up and down your core, brushing his nose against your clit every time. it’s exactly what you wanted. you let out an extra loud moan, hoping he’ll get the hint without you having to say a word. to your surprise, he does. his tongue focuses there, his nose pressing against you just right, giving you everything you didn’t have the courage to ask for.

he thrusts his tongue into you, his nose hitting your clit every time. it feels so good, you can’t keep the words from tumbling out. “chris, fuck—” you whimper, squirming on his face. his hands move to your thighs, massaging them firmly as his tongue moves faster and faster, his nose bumping your sensitive nub harder with each movement. “feels—haa—mm—” you stammer, the pleasure making it impossible to form a coherent thought. “c’mon, baby,” he mumbles against you, his voice muffled but teasing. “you’re a smart girl, what are you tryna say?”“feels so—ah—s’good,” you manage to moan, your voice shaky as chris moans beneath you, clearly enjoying himself as much as you are. you grip the pillow behind his head, desperate for something to hold onto. “tastes so good, baby. shit—” he groans against you, his words sending a rush of heat to your cheeks. “m’gonna cum,” you whimper, your body trembling. he nods, patting your leg, his way of telling you to let go. “give it to me, ma,” he murmurs, his voice full of need. you let go on his tongue, grinding your clit against his nose as your release washes over you, leaving you breathless and completely undone. after you cum, you can’t even register what’s happening when chris picks you up effortlessly and flips you over so he’s on top of you. he kisses your temple, his lips soft and comforting. “y’did so good, my love,” he murmurs, his voice full of affection. your cheeks flush as you lean into his kisses, feeling safe and warm in his hold. “can i ask you something?” he whispers, his tone gentle. you hum in response, still catching your breath. “where did you get this idea?” he asks, curiosity laced in his words. your face heats up even more—how could you possibly explain that you were staring at him and got horny because of his nose? “i just… i like your nose,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. he raises his eyebrows, clearly amused. “my nose? mkay…” he chuckles softly, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you, like he’s never letting go.

a/n: lowk based on a sexy guy in my class w a big nose😝😝

all divider from. @issysh3ll

@delooshunalhoe @chrisdollete @christophersturnn @sturniologirlzz @sturnxies @lov3bug @mattsside @emely9274 @sturnlovematt22 @sophand4n4 @sfoiasturn

[lilacgaby]

dunno if you take reqjests but

reader drawing on bakugos hand while theyre studying

PLAGUESMMY DREAMS BRO I WANNA SEE UR TAKE ON IT

katsuki had dragged you to his room to start studying for the practical exams. you groaned and whined the whole way, he was an academic, and so he was really big on being ‘focused’ and ‘committed’ to the work.

as he questioned you on quadratics and gave you a question to solve, as if you'd be able to solve it. you slammed your head against the table in frustration, as he continued solving the problem as if nothing was wrong. you pouted, you chin on the table as you watched him. one of his hands free as the others did all the work.

you were just so bored, your palms were already out of space from when you were doodling earlier so,

you started to draw on his hand, he was startled by the sudden feeling of a pen on his hand, jerking slightly. “don't move you're gonna ruin it!”

“fuck are ya’ doing anyways? we're supposed to be studying?”

“i'm bored. just do it yourself.”

his face scrunched up in annoyance as he finished up his work, doing his best not to move his hand.

you were actually really focused, or maybe you were just taking a long time because you wanted to hold his hand. who knows.

when you finished, clicking your pen again with a satisfied nod, he looked over his hand, eyebrows raised in surprise.

he actually really liked it. it looked like a mosaic almost, you drawing whatever had come to your mind, some of the things invoking his interests. small explosion doodles mixed in with flowers, chibi doodles of the two of you with heart in between, and a little skull reminiscent of his shirt.

he was so distracted by it, he didn't notice you copying down all of his answers.

almost.

he grabbed your face in his other hand, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout. he silently looked over you for a second, pecking your lips briefly before resuming his original position.

“draw me some shit on a piece of paper next time, 'don't want it to get ruined.”

with another kiss to your lips, he handed a flustered you a piece of paper,

“but do your own work, baby.”

with a fastened heart and face dusted with pink, you'd never finished an assignment faster.

[darkstaria]

"Hehehe..." You snickered quietly to yourself, rapidly pressing the buttons on your remote. The ceiling reflected your desire, rapidly changing colours as you did so. Smart lights were so cool.

A knock sounded at your door.

"Hello!" Called the bane of your existence.

"Not here!" You called back.

"I'm coming it anyways!" Dick sauntered in through your door as if your four individual locks meant nothing to him. Damn. Next time you're buying a barricade. Jason could probably be persuaded to install it. Stick it to the old man and all.

"Get out." You stated.

You changed the light into a deep, dark red.

"I'm here because Bruce is busy." Your unwanted visitor explained. "It's great that you're having fun and all, but using your light to flash SOS in morse code is going a bit too far, wouldn't you think?"

"No." You replied, a deadpan expression on your face.

"Well Bruce thinks it is, so this is your warning. Stop flashing in morse code, or he's talking the bulb out."

"You would take this away from me?" You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes. You had gotten extremely good at that lately. "My one solace in this cruel, lonely-"

"We're always extremely happy to hang out with you." Dick cut in, bemused.

"-mansion." You continued as if he had never spoke. "You would really do that? To me? ...your sibling?" The tears were perhaps getting a bit out of control, but you'd rather be overacting than under.

"Unfortunately yes-"

"Unfair!" You shouted. "Besides, Tim taught me how to use the light this way, if anything you should be blaming him! Favouritism!" Yous screeched. If tears didn't get him out volume would.

Dick winced, so you were clearly doing your job.

"I'll.. see what I can do." He muttered, turning away.

You breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, alone once more.

"Oh by the way!" He turned back.

Damnit!

"It's family movie night tonight! You know the rules, whoever caught you in your last escape attempt gets to cuddle you for the whole night, and you know who that was!" He laughed. You hated him. That attempt was one of your best yet, until he showed up.

Dick left, laughing all the way.

You sighed, a deep and long breath. How frustrating.

After a little bit, you looked up again, turning your room into a brilliant pink.

"Hehehe..." You continued fiddling with your remote. It was really fun.

[boombams]

she yoo... on my han... till i kim.................

[priceinjection]

thinking about older bf john or simon who holds me accountable to study. like, oh, you wanna go out tonight? don't you have an exam tomorrow? constant check ins etc. god forbid he catch my ass procrastinating too much

oooooh yeah you get it

even better though, you're dating both of them and they are ON YOUR ASS

I feel like they're weirdly controlling over it. Like they have the log in to your canvas or whatever site the college uses and they are constantly checking your assignments and checking in. Literally does not matter if they're halfway across the world on assignment, you're getting texts about your paper due this Friday and it better be submitted if you even THINK you're going out this weekend.

Helicopter parent type shit with them, if you have to study for a test they're heavily involved. Simon has you sat on his lap while Price is across from you two, quizzing you on different terms and practice questions. No matter how much you squirm or try to rile them up into just bending you over the table and fucking you instead, they wont budge. It's absolute torture for you but goddamn do you do well on your exams every time.

Writing papers is the worst of it though. With the amount of paperwork your boyfriends do at work they are absolutely BRUTAL editors. Showing them your first draft has you absolutely shaking handing the paper over. The worst part is they're dead silent while they mark your paper, only the sound of their pens scratching and scribbling. You practically have to rewrite the entire paper by the end of their editing. Which of course they sit with you to do.

John and Simon are absolute nightmares when it comes to your school work, but you always get good grades.

And they always reward their little academic weapon generously.

[koipudding]

being with kaiser means having to dissect your own heart while stitching up his.

chewing on him jn the tags and etc. don’t mind me

he’d be pretty mean at first. he’s gauging your reactions; would you run if you saw everything that haunted him? how he haunts himself? Kaiser does nothing but spit and snarl at you, like a stray cat that’s only been kicked to the curb.

but you don’t leave him alone. not like every other one-night stand he’s had—no, you’ve made him breakfast—a traditional german faire—and brushed and put oil in his hair (his favorite scent too; you tell him it’s been your favorite for a few years. something in him softens).

It’s so domestic he almost vomits after that, but on his first night away from your apartment, he can’t sleep. Practice is shit and he’s not performing well, to the point where he initiates a facetime call (kaiser hates initiating. it feels like begging for your attention, when yours should be solely on him anyway.) and you pick up instantly.

the time difference makes something shatter in him. You’re just waking up… hair messy and eyes bleary. You can hardly speak or hold up the phone…

“Mihya…? You okay?” you’re slumped in bed, wearing his sweater. He might combust (when did Michael become so attached to you? He doesn’t know, but he whispers your name like a prayer, like you’re his guiding light).

“I’m better now, dear. Let me tell you what that idiot of a striker did at practice—“ he rambled on, and watches you nod along. You him and agree with him, and a weight falls off of his shoulders. Kaiser can love you. Perhaps he already does…

[alrightberries]

*heavy sigh* barbarian bkg kidnapping the princess from the neighboring kingdom as a strategic move to lure out your father's knights and slaughter them as revenge for the warrior your people have killed, but it's been two full moons and neither the king nor his knights have come for you

and you... you've been the freest you've ever felt, with no knights guarded by your doors or tutors drilling politics in your head while your father pretends that you, the bastard daughter, has never existed and kept you either busy with extracurriculars or locked in your room so he never has to face you

and bakugou... watching you play wrestle with his tribe's children, pick the loose scales off his dragon's back, read the scrolls to learn his language, chew out the elders when they mentioned your name and the word 'sacrifice' and bakugou's never laughed harder in his life at their stupid dumb founded faces

and that was— that was all you were to him. a sacrifice, he reminds himself. a pig waiting for slaughter while he rethinks his strategies and reorganizes his plan to get revenge at your tyrant of a father who killed his men.

...but later, of course. not now. not when you're dancing around the fire with his people, in his home, singing the songs of his tribe and looking every bit like the woman the oracle described to be his future queen, while his parents share a knowing look

[hehearse]

the duality of man......

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)

warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)

you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.

what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?

the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.

up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.

the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.

ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.

outrageous, never done before.

for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.

wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.

not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“

“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”

“just soccer?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”

"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.

“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."

you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”

pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.

“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.

“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."

you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.

your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.

“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"

“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“

you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”

“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”

you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”

your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."

you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"

pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”

your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”

rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.

“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”

“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”

you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.

pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”

you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”

pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”

your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.

"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"

he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”

“seriously?”

pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”

your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.

“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”

he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”

you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”

he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."

you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."

he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."

you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."

it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?

“the ball’s in your court.”

yeah it is.

truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.

at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.

so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.

but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.

you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.

you had pope for that.

which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.

a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.

taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.

the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.

you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.

there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.

“hey?”

“you look like shit, cameron.”

rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”

you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”

rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”

you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.

there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.

"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”

rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."

he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.

you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”

"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."

“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”

rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"

"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.

and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.

“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. ���will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”

rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.

“why are you mad at me?”

you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.

"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"

he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”

rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

that’s it.

you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.

“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”

for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.

“and you want to fuck me?”

you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.

“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”

"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”

rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”

“yes or no.”

rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”

“okay. so win your next match and you will.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”

“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”

"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”

you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."

rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."

“i figured.”

he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”

you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”

rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."

you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.

rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.

“just win the fucking match, cameron."

rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

"consider it done."

[antheyaaa]

BOOMSHAKALAKAAAAA

[sturnschris]

You’re not stupid, baby.

pairings: smart!goodgirl!reader x bf!chris

content: you are crying too your boyfriend chris about your bad grade while riding him. (established relationship)

warnings: smut. ,riding,pet names,crying, no use of y/n (i think) should be it!

inspired by 💋 from @luvs4matt!

a/n: first ever fic very nervous but yeah! Any feedback is welcome 💓

love ya!💋

It had all been too much for you. The weight of the day pressed heavily on your chest, and before it could overwhelm you completely, you found yourself at your boyfriend’s house, seeking the only comfort you knew would help.

———————

Now, you were straddling Chris’s lap, his cock buried deep inside you, but it wasn’t like it usually was. Your head wasn’t thrown back in pleasure, nor were you nuzzled into his neck. Instead, you were face-to-face with him, your tear-streaked cheeks glistening as you tried to explain your day between sobs and quiet moans. “H-He said I’m s-stupid,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. Chris leaned forward, his lips brushing against the salty trails of your tears as he hummed soothingly. “You’re not stupid, baby.” he murmured, his voice steady and full of reassurance.

You nodded shakily, your breath hitching as you moved slowly, your hips rocking against his. “S-So deep,” you moaned, gripping his hair for support, your words blending into soft cries of pleasure. “I’ve n-never gotten an F before,” you tried to say, but your voice broke as Chris began to thrust up into you, the sudden movement stealing the rest of your sentence. “Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pressed you down against him. “He’s the fucking idiot, ma.”— All you could do was squeal, his cock repeatedly brushing that sensitive spot inside you. “G-Gonna cum,” you stuttered, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Your tears, once shed in frustration and shame, were now spilling over from the overwhelming pleasure. Chris’s pace never faltered as he kissed you again, his lips moving down to your jaw. “Don’t cry for him, baby,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and commanding. “He’s not worth it.” Your walls clenched around him as he hit that spot again, and his voice softened just slightly. “Cum for me. You deserve it, ma.” With that, your release washed over you, your body trembling as you fell against his chest, clinging to him as the waves of pleasure consumed you.

“Almost there,” Chris grunted, his thrusts becoming sharper but still controlled. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” The overstimulation was setting in now, your body twitching with each movement. “T-Too much, Chris,” you whimpered, your voice small and breathy.He ran his fingers through your hair soothingly, planting soft kisses on your temple. “Almost there,sweetheart. Can you take it for me?” His voice was both gentle and commanding, and you nodded, trusting him completely.

A few moments later, his hips stilled as he spilled inside you, thick ropes of warmth filling you as a deep groan left his lips. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close as you both caught your breath.

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, brushing your hair out of your face to meet your gaze. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a small smile as you nodded. “Yeah.” Chris’s expression softened even more. “Don’t listen to that dickhead. He doesn’t know shit about you.”

You nodded again, tucking your head against his chest as his arms tightened around you.

— you could stay like that forever.

a/n: hope liked it!!

all dividers from. @issysh3ll (check her out she she is amazing)

@delooshunalhoe @chrisdollete @lormyaaa @christophersturnn @sturniologirlzz @sturnxies

@lov3bug

[yanderedrabbles]

What if the the reader is bi, how would the yandere boys behavior change? ( Thought of this when I read Yandere cop/stalker makes you cut off all male friends so would he do the same for female friends).

Yandere boys finding out youre bisexual

Yandere! Cowboy doesn't really view women as a threat. He's old fashioned and far more concerned about other men. But if he finds you in bed with another woman? If he even sees you kissing one? She's dead and never mind what folks say about never hitting a woman - he'll kill that bitch with his bare hands.

Yandere! Soldier won't let you out of the apartment regardless, so it doesn't matter. He does see women as a threat and if you ever have a normal life, he'll be just as jealous and protective of you.

Yandere! Boyfriend is cool with it. He'll never ask you to cut off your friends but he does keep a close eye on them. If he sees another girl getting too cosy with you at a bar, he's quick to throw his arm around your waist and call you his wifey (even if you aren't married yet).

Yandere! State Trooper scoffs and says no one - male or female - can fuck you like he can. But he'll definitely be keeping a closer eye on your female friends.

Yandere! Cop knows that you need friends. He doesn't want to isolate you or make you miserable. So he just makes you get rid of the hot ones, the ones your age, the ones who seem a little too interested in you... Honestly, the only friendship he actively encourages is with the nice old lady from his mother's church. She's great and he thinks you should be spending more time with her.

Yandere! Gangster is unsurprised. And also jealous. Would you give him a chance if he was a girl?

Yandere! Incubus is very turned on. He's a lust demon after all and he really wants to see you kiss another nun. It's like double sacrilege.

Yandere! Desert Bandit finds the concept a bit strange, but there aren't a lot of women around anyway and so he doesn't worry too much about it.

Yandere! Academic Rival is pissed. You're pulling more hoes than him? Unacceptable. Can't he better at one thing? Please?

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor is kinda bisexual himself. But now the world's dead and you only have each other and he's fine with that. Back in the day, be would totally be down to swing though. Threesomes with both men and women. Woulda been so fun. Oh well.

Yandere! Gladiator is still technically your owner and any relationships you consider need to have his permission. Safe to say, he's not giving it.

[lvrrgirlll]

2019 patrick x miss honey coded/kindergarten teacher reader

In a moment of desperation from both of you, you two resort to Tinder. He was looking for a place to stay, too broke to afford even the cheapest motel. You were looking for some company, desperately lonely in your own personal life even in spite of the fulfillment you felt from your job.

When he asked you to meet for drinks, you felt somewhat wary, never one to drink much, but agreed anyways. You were too lonely to refuse. Upon meeting him, you were surprised, but you knew you shouldn’t have been. His profile told you everything you needed to know. He was scruffy, seemingly polite, though he cussed like a sailor, and he obviously wanted to sleep with you. But it had been so long since that had even happened for you… and you couldn’t deny it was nice to feel wanted.

Of course, you ended up taking him home. He let out a laugh, mostly out of surprise, when he saw the literal cottage you lived in. He marveled at the live flowers around your home and the eclectic interior. That is, before he kissed you as if he was never going to let go.

That was Saturday night. He had slept over, of course, that being his plan all along. Sunday morning you were up before 10am reading with a glass of tea while his toned body laid asleep in your bed. When he finally woke, you offered him tea and a croissant. He eventually asked you the questions that had been pressing on his mind, namely why you dressed ‘like you were going to church.’ Of course, you answered that you were a kindergarten teacher, which he said ‘made a lot of sense.’

That evening he explained his circumstances, you, of course, taking pity on him for having to sleep in his car, and offering he stay for the rest of the challenger. You told him it didn’t come with a price though. He originally was excited, thinking you meant sex, but he was disillusioned when you put him to work on ribbon garlands. “They’re for my class! I showed them a tiny one and they loved it so I said I’d make big ones to put around the classroom.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smile gave him away. He found your dedication sweet. You showed him pictures of your class and told him about all the wild, funny things the kids said, while he worked diligently on the garland. Neither of you realized but you had been chatting and working till 3am, the smoke of your cinnamon scented candle putting itself out as it drown in wax alerting you two. At one point you had dozed off, your head in Patrick’s lap, and he just didn’t have the heart to wake you. When you did wake up, immediately getting back to work, you chastised him for letting you get ‘sidetracked’ by sleep, to which he just chuckled.

When you did finally go to bed, you had thankfully finished the garland and could relax comfortably in Patrick’s arms, even if you would have to go work in only a few hours. You thought you could get used to this.