#to keep it warm and teach it math

[roseofhybrids]

keep the egg warm, teach it math

[starkeyvhs]

unhook

PAIRING: nerd!rafe cameron x nerd!fem!reader

SUMMARY: it’s rafe’s first sleepover with his first girlfriend – who is equally shy as him – but she needs help with unhooking her bra.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

WARNINGS: shy rafe & reader; she/her pronouns used for reader; slightly suggestive (?) but it’s soft and fluffy 🫶

EDITH SPEAKS: we don’t just have nerd rafe now, we now have nerd reader too 🥰 I loveddddd writing the two of them, just a couple of soft and shy teenagers who like each other so much but are just so anxious 🥹 I have a cool idea on the background lore of this pairing and hopefully I’ll be able to write their full fic one day 🫶 anyways! if you enjoy reading, please reblog and share any feedback you may have 💞💞 also, my inbox is open to discuss all kinds of thoughts && hcs!!! xx

masterlist / join my taglist / requests

Rafe Cameron was an expert at a lot of things: physics, maths, programming, robotics, chemistry, but there was one thing no book could ever teach him. 

And it was how to act around girls. 

Throughout his life, he thought keeping a safe distance from girls was best for him; relationships and everything else would come to him when the time is right. 

But he definitely didn’t think that time would come this soon – in high school. 

He was best known for his concentration, and how he could sit still and study for hours on end, not giving up until he was done learning what he wanted to. But this one girl, she was becoming a distraction. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was as if he could see her name hidden between the words of the book he was reading, tucked safely as a sweet memory of this new person who had just waltzed into his life. 

And somehow, the one thing that made all of this sweeter was that the girl – you – was also just like him. Just as inexperienced, just as nervous, and, he didn’t realise it, but also just as adorable as him. 

It was hard for Rafe to get his mind off someone who had so many common interests as him. You loved science and technology just as much as he did, and you both were somehow just always on the same wavelength with almost everything you talked about. 

Now, fast forwarding past the awkward talking stage (well, what’s to say it sometimes still isn’t awkward), Rafe finally bagged you, yes, that’s right, Rafe Cameron got a girlfriend. 

And a damn intelligent one at that. 

So, after everything, he has you invited over to his place for your first ever sleepover. The nerves are even more than usual, but he’s trying his best to make this work, just for the two of you. 

Starting from when you arrive till the dinner with his family, everything is super smooth. You both talk a bit, and Rafe can feel the nervousness between you two is beginning to die, to create something that’s more comforting and warm instead. 

But, all the effort he puts to make everything light hearted comes crashing down when he realises nighttime is nearing closer and closer. Meaning, the time to share a bed is getting closer. He makes the offer of his own clothes for your nightwear, which he’s super happy you accept. 

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, his fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of his own shirt as he waits for you to finish changing and freshening up in the washroom. He can feel his mind go absolute berserk, an infinite number of thoughts looping themselves in his head and playing like a broken record. He’s attempting to get his mind off these thoughts, oh he is trying so hard, but he just can’t.

Rafe nervously looks up at the clock hanging on his wall and realises a little too much time has passed since you went to the washroom. It concerns him a tiny fraction, but he attempts to relax that thought by telling himself you must genuinely take time in the washroom to freshen up. 

But then he hears your voice calling out your name – oh how he loves the way his name sounds so sweet on your lips, but more on that later – and it seems as if you’re a little uneasy. 

“Yeah?�� He asks, and his voice automatically takes that softness that somehow only comes up when he’s talking to you. He gets up from his bed and makes his way to the closed washroom door, gently pressing an ear to it. “Everything alright?”

A long moment of silence passes and Rafe doesn’t hear anything from across the door, which almost tempts him to call out to you again, but your voice finally crosses the wood. 

“I uh… I need help,” Your voice is already muffled due to the hardwood barrier between you two, but the obvious timidness in your tone makes it even more difficult for Rafe to catch your words. 

“Yeah yeah, what is it, sweets?” He says softly, the nickname rolling off almost effortlessly. Whoa, where did that confidence come from? Again, a topic reserved for a much later conversation. 

Another long moment of silence passes, and Rafe can now sense the anxiousness through the door, understanding that whatever it is, it’s making you feel more shy than usual. 

“My, my bra hook’s stuck… I need help with it,” Somehow, your voice has gotten even quieter. 

Now it’s Rafe’s turn to get quiet. 

It takes time for your words, and their implication, to settle in him. His limbs feel permanently tethered to the ground below him by a strong force, and that nothing can make him budge. But he soon realises that force is entirely superficial and it’s his own nerves keeping him fixed. 

Fighting the strong nerves he musters the courage to speak up again. “You, you need my help?” He asks. 

“Yes please,” comes your reply and he hears a heavy exhale escaping you along with your words, as if you’re letting go of the heavy weight of having to tell him what your current situation is. 

But god, Rafe doesn’t have a single clue how he’s going to react on what’s bound to happen next. 

He hears you unlock the door from inside, and he wraps his fingers around the doorknob, slowly twisting it to open the door. 

You’re standing in the center of the washroom, your back towards the door. He can see you’ve changed into his old shorts he gave you, but the t-shirt is sitting on the counter and you’re standing in just your bra. When you hear the door creak open, you turn to look over your shoulder and meet Rafe’s eyes. 

The moment you see him, you shy your gaze away from him. “Uh, it’s stuck real bad…” you mumble quietly. 

“Oh uh, I’ll… I’ll have a look,” Rafe mutters, moving closer to you so there’s barely any space between you two. He can feel the warmth of your back against his chest and it seems so inviting and soft. 

His heart begins to thump loud in his chest, and the deep curtain of silence that envelopes you two makes it even more loud to his ears. 

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat and lifts his hand up. He brings his fingers close to your back so that the fingertips are almost hovering over the inviting skin. 

Do it, Rafe, do it. You’re here to help her, that’s it.

Subconsciously nodding to himself, Rafe lets his fingertips gently press over your back and oh my god your skin is so damn soft. The situation is making heat rush to his face, and he just knows his cheeks are tinted with a champagne pink which is very hard to miss.

He can hear the hitch in your breath the moment his fingers touch your skin, as if the small contact is spreading an electric current throughout your body. Rafe lets his fingers linger over the bra hook, and he brings his other hand up too, attempting to sort the stuck hook out. 

“It’s a little stuck…” he murmurs under his breath as he has his way with the hook, but also makes sure none of his movements are too harsh that it hurts you in any way. 

“That bad?” You ask meekly, glancing at Rafe over your shoulder. He catches the look of sheepishness on your face, knowing how awkward you might be feeling in this situation. 

“I just need a minute, yeah?” He tells you softly, and allows himself to be a little bold, letting his hand drift over your shoulder and squeeze it softly. As much as his heart is beating fast in his chest and his fingers are itching to feel the expanse of your soft flesh, he also knows he should be a little confident because that’ll help you feel a little more comfortable. 

His actions do the expected, your tense shoulders relax a bit and you nod to let him continue. Rafe brings his hands back to the hook and lets out a deep breath. Okay, lets just look at this carefully. He takes a moment to inspect exactly how the hook is stuck, and then, carefully, he lets his fingers work through the stuck hook. 

It takes a long moment, both him and you standing in the quiet space of the bathroom with bated breaths, but finally, Rafe pops open the hook. That is the moment when your body gets fully relaxed, and he understands how relieving it must be for you to not have a tight constraint around your chest anymore. 

He can’t convince himself to bring his hands back down to his sides, his palms now fully resting on your back above your shoulder blades. You stand there, keeping a hand over the bra to keep yourself covered. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asks softly, feeling a little more bold as his fingertips begin to trail over your back, tracing over the length of your spine till your tailbone and coming back up right at the nape of your neck with a touch so slow and gentle. 

“Yeah…” you murmur, “thank you so much, Rafe,” 

Rafe can’t help the small smile that pulls his lips at your words. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, letting his lips linger against your skin for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he mumbles softly into your skin, before pulling back. 

He clears his throat and reluctantly gets his hands off you, taking a step back towards the door. “I’ll uh, I’ll let you change yeah?” He says softly and watches you nod, but this time you don’t turn to look at him. He makes his way out of the washroom and steps out, closing the door behind him and resting his head back against the hardwood. 

He closes his eyes, letting out soft puffs of air through his exhales as his mind plays back the last few moments: his fingers on your skin, soaking up its velvety feel. 

He doesn’t know where he got the wave of confidence from which allowed him to touch you that beautifully, but somewhere, he’s glad he got it, because now, he absolutely can’t even think of anything else besides you, your supple skin, and how he might ultimately get to feel more than just your back under his hands. 

Well, this only makes him ecstatic about the impending sleepover. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @inthelibrarybtw / @mccaffreyswifey / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @kaileashiftz / @weirdowithnobeardo / @chimchimjiminie16 / @ursovaine / @mariamadison6-blog / @snowtargaryen / @htlkira / @hrtshapedblg / @cherrys-muses / @mattyskies

specific tags for this fic: @maybejj / @appleciderlove / @starkeyszn

tagging a few moots: @runningfrom2am / @ilyrafe / @zyafics / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr

[n3ssier]

fluffy nerdmin thoughts.. don't mind me :3

masterlist

nerd!armin who doesn't have great social skills, but still does everything in his power to understand and meet your needs

nerd!armin who takes you on a date to all the manga stores in town, before stopping by a warm cafe to let you enjoy a matcha as he pulls a 500ml can of monster out of his bag for himself to enjoy

nerd!armin who teaches you what he's learnt in class lately in order to help himself better understand the material and revise whilst also getting to speak to you

nerd!armin who knows everything there is to be known about computers and maths, but not a single thing about love

nerd!armin who is used to spending all day and night in his dorm, but will happily adjust to spending his weekends out in the city if that's what you enjoy

nerd!armin who spams you with tiktoks he found funny in the middle of the night as you sleep

nerd!armin who, even thought he doesn't take the same course as you, will learn the key areas of your course in order to help you understand and teach you

nerd!armin who makes a playlist with all the grunge/shoegaze songs he listens to that remind him of you

nerd!armin who keeps a cute sticker of a bunny on his laptop, just because you stuck it there

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 8: The Trapeze Artist's Fall

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 (You're here) - Pt 9 - Pt 10

It was his second week of school for him. In no way was he excited. Gotham was a fresh start for the young boy, private school was meant to be a fun experience - many would kill to be able to get premium education - but he finds he misses the countryside hills that he'd watch pass by as his mamă taught him how to spell and read. He misses his tată teaching him math and cool sciencey things.

He misses his family.

The school wasn't the problem, though he found he was falling behind in learning due to his homeschooled life beforehand. The problem was his classmates, the ridicule he'd get for simple slip-ups. It wasn't his fault English is his second language, it isn't his fault he slips-up.

Last Friday one boy in the class, Mac Doust, had put gum in his hair. Dick ended up crying in the bathroom until Alfred came to pick him up - not Bruce, no, Bruce was as unavailable as Dick's dead parents honestly.

Gripping the straps of his backpack Dick mutters under his breath, trying to assure himself he'd be okay. The whole weekend he had practiced hiding his accent so kids would think he was normal.

Upon walking into the school he held his head high and didn't mess around, he headed straight to class.

...

That's strange, why was the door only opened partly? Ms Xavier keeps the door wide open, always greeting Dick with a wide smile and some Romanian she had put in the effort of learning for him.

Dick opens the door hesitantly, peeking inside.

He only gets to see Mac's stupid grin before water is dumped on him, the metal bucket clanging on his head harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, he stands there, the bucket on his head as the sounds of giggles and cackles fill his ears. Warm tears contrast with the cold water soaking his face.

Dick went home early that day. The incident struck a chord in him. If he wanted to stop the bullying he had to become better than them, put in the work and effort.

He will be popular, he will be better.

He will never do that cruel prank to anyone. Never

Looking down at his phone as he walks he feels nothing but a cringing sort of pain. He stooped to a level he never thought he'd get to. It was disgusting really.

Dick feels like he's no better than Mac. That he's no hero. The video plays on loop as the man takes in the pained look on your face, he can't bring himself to look at the messages in the group chat.

They're most likely supporting it, congratulating him for doing what they all wished to do.

Hell, if he was in their place he'd probably be celebrating it too. But to be there, to be the reason you reacted that way, is sickening for the young male.

Even now all he can think about is himself, how he feels. God, how self-centered could he be? It's not like he was the victim in this.. But still, surely he can't be the true bad guy in this, right?

Dick had decided against getting driven home, he felt that if he walked to the manor in the rain it'd be enough to be even with you - look, we both ended up soaked! Everything's better now!

He chuckles under his breath at his thoughts - what would Aranea even think of him?

She'd probably be angry at him for his actions but comfort him, telling him the things he needed to hear. That it wasn't his fault, that Y/N was a bad person who deserved it.

Whatever words needed so he could sleep at night really..

Dick finally decides to exit the looping video, the image of you burnt into his mind forever.

He goes into his messages and pulls up Aranea's comm number - he had put it into his phone so they could talk off shift, something she was hesitant about but ultimately caved in.

He types out a simple message. Then another. Then another.

"Heyyyy!!! Are you busy rn??"

"It'd be cool to hang out and patrol together!!"

"Bruce doesn't have to know"

He stares at the messages, waiting for them to be marked as read. 1 minute turned into 5, then 5 turned into 10. Dick sighs and exits out of the message log, clearly Aranea is busy.

He gazes on the chat log "Y/N. 🤮"

Maybe he should message her? Say sorry and try to make it up to her.. Yeah, that's what Aranea would say to do! She was always about communication.

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm super sorry for what I did|

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm|

"I know you're|

"What I did wasn't right. I'm sorry that I did that because you had a different opinion than me. I never meant to make you cry, only angry, I promise!"

Finally happy with the message he sends it off.

Only to remember the wonderful fact that your phone is fried due to the water.

Lucky him. He sighs, fed up with this bad luck streak he's been having.

Suddenly he remembers that he has money! More than you can even imagine!

He can buy a new, amazing phone to make things even. Yes, it's perfect. Surely you'll forgive him now!

He changes course and heads to the nearest electronic store, determined to make things right in his head. The purchase was swift and quick, the best phone he could find in the place.

Now, all he had to do was go to your apartment and give it to you!

Lucky him Tim leaked your address to everyone in the family as soon as he entered your apartment. So, with a high head he makes the slightly anxiety-inducing journey to you.

Knocking on the door of the apartment Dick stands straight as a board. The door opens and on the other side is a woman, she has severe eye bags and (H/C) hair. She seemed to have just gotten back from work. Her grey, lifeless eyes peer at him with suspicion before realizing who he was and smiling brightly.

"Mr Grayson! What a pleasure, is there anything you need?" She asks, Dick internally cringes, there was something about her voice that just grated against his ears.

There was just something so... Off... About her.

Still, he does what he usually does. He smiles and remains patient.

"Hello ma'am, is your daughter available? Something had happened and well.." Dick trails off, he doesn't want to get on Y/N's mother's bad side.

Her mother's eyes seem to cloud over at the mention of an incident, yet her smile remains in tact, if not strained. It's possible you told her already..

"Oh. An incident? What has she done, Mr Grayson?" Her mother asks, dark undertones coat her otherwise curious words. Dick furrows his brows slightly at the sudden change in the woman's mood. "Ah, well, it was my fault. I had played a nasty prank on her and her phone was ruined, I bought a new one to make it up to her!" He shows the brand new phone in it's box.

The woman doesn't look impressed, still, she smiles and hums. "Hm. Well that's lovely! Would you like to come inside? She isn't home currently but I'm sure she'll be home soon."

Something in Dick tells him not to go inside. Something was wrong. Yet, he reminds himself that he is a hero, if anything happens he will be prepared.

So, he heads inside, trailing behind the woman as he takes in the dungeon-like interior. "It's a... Lovely place, ma'am" Dick says, hoping to seem polite. The woman scoffs.

"M/N, my name is M/N. No need for such formalities!" The woman hurriedly states before flicking her hand dismissively "Y/N's room is the second door. You can wait there, or, if you want, you can hang around me!" She smiles sweetly, too sweetly, disgustingly sweetly. It reminds him of eating giant spoons of brown sugar.

He smiles politely, trying not to show his discomfort. "I'll just wait in her room for her..!" He hurries to Y/N's room, shutting the door once he's in. That woman gave him the creeps.

He looks around the small room, holy shit, no wonder you're always so pissy! He'd be pissy too if his room was just a bit bigger than a school storage closet!

The man knows he shouldn't snoop, he's done enough damage. But, maybe, if the guilt doesn't settle he can use information gathered here to help!

Dick makes his way to the chest and looks around, picking up an engineering bit, he isn't too into the whole mechanical side of things so there was no name he could pin it to.

Placing it back he moves to sit on the bed and wait. As he sits on the bed his eyes are drawn to a floorboard that seems to stand out from the rest. He kneels on the floor and digs his nails into the floorboard.

He starts to lift it up when..

RINGGGG

RINGGGG

RINGGGG

His phone goes off, he scrambles to answer the call, not checking who the caller was.

"Dick? Dick, okay, you're the only one that has answered!"

It was Duke, he sounds frantic. What happened..?

"Duke? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"No, no, something bad's happened! Steph, Cass and I were at a cafe and Y/N and her friends were there as well but some waitress had messed up the orders and Y/N had an allergic reaction - or something like that!" Duke rambles, his words slurring together in a rush.

Dick's eyes widen and he feels the air leave his lungs, forgetting about the floorboard and quickly leaving the room. He'll put the new phone on your bed for when you return.

He brushes past M/N and leaves the apartment. Holy shit your luck was bad, he couldn't help but think.

"Okay, stay calm, are you guys at Gotham City Private Hospital or Gotham City Public Hospital?"

"Private."

"I'll be there in half an hour, it'll be okay."

With that he hangs up and runs out of the apartment complex.

Like hell was he about to let anything bad happen to you before he could make things right!

Taglist:

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs @cens0r3d

[girliism]

math professor!art donaldson x reader

art donaldson who has been teaching for years and prided himself on staying professional even with all the many pretty girls that took his class. never once did he cross line between teacher and student.

but then one year you took his class, you who was sweet and a little naive. he was drawn to you like people are drawn to stray kittens they see on the street, a desperate urge to help them. so when you came to him with such a defeated look on your face asking for his help he couldn’t say no.

another F. was written in the corner of you math exam from last week. you wanted to cry, all the studying you did essentially being useless. you waited until the end of class until everyone had walked out so it was just you and art in the room.

“um, mr.dondalson. can i talk with you?” art looked up at you through his glasses, you stood in front of his desk your hands fiddling with the failed exam paper. “of course.” he removed his glasses placing them on his desk. art knew what if was you wanted to talk about and he’s a little surprised it took you this long to ask for help. “i don’t think i’m understanding much of the coursework and i need your help.” you pouted, your voice was small and you were a little embarrassed. art got up from his chair walking to stand in front of you. “what else am i here for than to help.” he smiled at you.

an hour. one hour has passed and you had only made it to the third question. “i-i don’t know.” you dropped the pencil in your hand and placed your head on the table. art was asking you what the answer to the question was but your mind was spent. art sighed, it was only the beginning of the semester he hadn’t even brought out the hard stuff yet.

“we just went over this.” he said. you lifted your head up off the table. “i forgot it.” you whined. art looked down at you, you had that signature pout on your face and your wet eyes were making his pants tighter.

art walked back to sit behind his desk. you sat there your nose a little red he could see how drained you were from just doing those two questions. art motioned from you to come sit in his lap. it didn’t even cross your mind how unprofessional it was you just got up from your seat settling down on art’s lap, your back resting against his chest with your thighs on display from how your skirt rode up.

“i’m sorry, if i wasted your time mr.donaldson.” you huffed. “it’s just all so confusing.” art hummed, dragging his fingers up and down your inner thigh watching as they started to open. “too much for your brain to comprehend, wasn’t it?” he asked, the pads of his finger pressing down on your clothed clit. you nodded, soft breaths falling from your lips your legs now fully open resting on either side of art’s thighs. “why don’t we take a break and relax, ok.” his words echoed in your mind. “o-ok.” you melted back into him.

art pulled your soaked panties to the side. “so wet down here.” art slide his fingers from your opening to your tiny bundle of nerves rubbing slow circles. you let out a loud moan when art slipped two of his fingers in with ease. “o-oh my god.” your head dropped back on his shoulder, eyes squeezing close from the stretch. art groaned from the feeling of your warm gummy walls tightening around his fingers. “so fucking tight.” he mumbled, leaving kisses behind your ear and down your neck.

“feels so good mr.donaldson.” you slur. your hand gripping his wrist that was moving in and out of you. squelching noises and your loud whimpering moans filled the room. “oh fuck!” art curled his fingers upward pressing them against that soft spot causing you to let out a particularly loud noise. art’s eyes darted to the classroom door to see if anyone was walking by.

“gone so dumb on just my fingers can’t even keep quiet. what if someone walked in and saw us?” he scolded you but didn’t slow down his movements only speeding them up. you stuttered out a pathetic apology in between your whines. “all spread out for me like a slut.” he hissed in your ear. his words were only making you wetter, your arousal dripping past his fingers making a mess on his pants.

the closer you were to more you legs threatened to close, art had to hook his other arm up under your knee pulling your leg up to his chest. “s-so close, mr.donaldson. gonna cum.” you whimpered. your nails dug into art’s wrists. art let go of your leg, sneaking his hand up to your throat pulling your head back so he could slot his mouth against yours.

“let it go, baby.” art muttered right into your mouth.

art’s thumb flicked back and forth on your clit and his fingers punched in and out of you. your eyes crossed and you let out a choked moan as you came all over his fingers.

after many more sessions with art your grades had finally started to improve.

[chaoticats3]

Getting emotional thinking about (good) children's shows. Specifically educational shows/shows that have a lesson, Wild Kratts, Odd Squad, Word Girl, Bluey, Sesame Street, Mr Rodgers, ect.

Shows that are made just to gently hold your hand as you grow up. Shows that are made to introduce you to the world, give you a little pat on the head and some knowledge, some animal facts, some basic math to share on the playground.

Something about the thought of rooms of writers sitting down and thinking about what lesson to teach kids in the next episode, how do we word this in a way the kids would understand, how should we present this information, makes me warm.

There's just a feeling about them. Like extra care has been put into them, like they are handling the viewer gently. Not patronizingly. But gently. These shows aren't made to scare you or keep you hooked till the next episode, make sure you binge the entire season.

They feel like they would gently wipe your tears away after you scraped your knee, give you a dinosaur bandaid while telling you a cool fact about dinosaurs to cheer you up, then help you back to your friends. They just feel kind. Feel safe.

The best way I can describe it is like... Kinda parental. Like they are just shows, they can't replace a parent obviously, but they took part in raising you. In shaping you into how you are today. And no matter what, I think they would be proud.

[rafeshit]

teacher!rafe x teacher!reader

warnings — MDNI none other than fluff, flirting, see through blouse, and leg touching.

summary — you are a teacher working at a college, when you are in the library you get assistance from a fellow staff member.

—

youre standing in the library, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of dusty books. You're searching for a specific title, one that you need for your next lesson plan. As you scan the shelves, your fingers trailing over the spines of the books, you finally spot it. It's just out of reach.

you stretch up onto your tiptoes, straining to grab it, just as your fingers brush against the cover you feel a presence behind you. you turn your head to see mr.cameron, the handsome teacher from the math department, standing inches from you. His chest is pressed tightly against your back as his arms reached above you. you can feel his heartbeat flutter against your back as he does this.

for a awfully long second, you're frozen, rafes body is warm against yours, his muscles firm and flexing as he grabs the book. You feel his breath on the back of your neck, sending a wave of shivers to shoot down your spine.

alas, he takes a step back and he hands you the book, his fingers brush against yours, you turn to face him, meeting his eyes. for a moment, you both just stare at eachother.

you have seen mr.cameron around the halls and in the break room frequently but have never came in contact with him, this closely at that. if you were honest with yourself you would admit that you have had a little crush on him.

he had seen you around too, purposely going to places where you were just to see you in the tight black skirt you always wore. he had noticed that the white button up youd wear religiously would unknowingly show the black bra you wore on fridays like clockwork. today was friday, so he was in luck to be so close to you that your shirt was practically see through at this angle.

"thank you," you say, breaking the silence.

rafe smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners showing his age. "No problem," he says with a nod.

you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be with him, to feel his arms around you, his lips on yours, his veiny hands traveling along your body. but you were too shy to ever make a move. youre a teacher, after all. You can't let yourself get distracted by a fellow staff member, so you attempted to keep things professional and keep your distance.

but as you take the book from rafe, your fingers touching, you can't help but to want more. It's like you're both in on a secret, a secret that only the two of you share — there was a mutual attraction that went unnoticed by the both of you, but in this moment you both were aware of that mutual feeling.

you manage to crack a joke to crush the awkwardness, "I was about to fall off my tiptoes if it weren’t for you,” you chuckle.

rafe nods, his smile pressing. "well good thing I’m your knight and shining armor," he says.

You laugh, feeling a little more at ease. "Well, in that case, I'm grateful for my clumsiness."

Rafe takes a step closer, "would you like to grab coffee with me at the brew across the street?" he asks, "I think we have some things to discuss."

You nod, "I'd love to.” your eyes instinctively look to the floor, trying to hide the blush that was creeping to your face.

Rafe smiles, catching it. "Great," he says, “I’ll see you after school?”

“okay.” you nod, quickly walking away. you tuck your hair behind your ears as you bite your lip making your way to your respective classroom. did he just ask you out? you think to yourself. you quickly shake your head trying not to get ahead of yourself and focus on the task at hand, which was teaching.

the day went by slowly as you anxiously wait, Finally, the clock struck 7, and you couldn't get out of the school fast enough. You grabbed your bag, shut off the lights, and headed to the Brew across the street.

As you walked in, you spotted Rafe waiting for you at a table, smoking a cigarette. "Hey," you said, taking a seat across from him.

"Hey yourself," he said, snuffing out his cigarette. "You looked beautiful today by the way."

You blushed, "Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself."

he smiles and adjusts himself in his seat, “but…” he says, which makes your heart beat a little faster, “your top is so see through that I can see your bra underneath if I’m close enough.” he makes yourself aware.

you quickly look down, covering your exposed breasts, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

“don’t worry though, I’m not complaining, I’m admiring actually…” he says, which makes you comfortable enough to remove your hands from your shirt, “but your students might find it distracting.” he acknowledges.

“right…” you say. the waiter comes over and takes you guys’s order, you settled for a black coffee as he settles for a typical frappuccino.

you continue talking, noticing his eyes going to your shirt frequently, it didn’t bother you, you found it cute how he couldn’t keep his eyes on yours for half of the conversation. you guys discussed your college days and what made you want to start teaching. It was nice to learn more about him other than the fact that he taught math, and was really good at it.

as you laughed and joked, you found yourself brushing your leg against Rafe's under the table. You meant it to be an accidental touch, but as soon as you made contact, you knew it was intentional.

Rafe's eyes locked onto yours, a look of delight written all over his face. He didn't say anything, but you could tell he was thrilled by the touch when his hand would lightly brush against your leg under the table.

You continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily. But now, there was a charge in the air, a very noticeable spark of attraction between you two that you both couldn't ignore.

As you wound down, Rafe looked at you,"You know, I really enjoyed this," he said. "Maybe we can make it a ritual. Grab coffee after every school day… with less leg rubbing and more hand holding hopefully, maybe both?”

You smiled, “I'd like that.”

as you parted ways, you couldnt help but bite your lip as you made your way home. You had a feeling that this was just the beginning of your relationship with mr.cameron.

[botanalche]

Even If I’m Not a Genius Like You

Synopsis. Shikamaru the laid-back genius and his not-so-smart-but-not-stupid girlfriend

Pairing. Shikamaru Nara x fem!reader

Content. SFW, fem!reader, modern high school au, academic frustration, emotional vulnerability, self-worth issues, soft comfort, subtle affection, blunt but caring!shikamaru

Word count. 493

you're walking side by side with shikamaru after school, your fingers barely brushing against his. the late afternoon sun is warm, but you feel cold the second your phone vibrates in your pocket.

you don’t want to check it. you already know.

but you do anyway.

[school app notification]

mathematics — 42/100

status: remedial required]

you stop walking. “no way… no freaking way…”

shikamaru doesn’t stop with you. he keeps walking a few more steps, then turns slightly, hands in his pockets, brows barely lifted.

“…again?”

you don’t answer. you just stand there, staring at your screen, lips trembling.

“i actually tried this time,” you mutter, your voice small. “i didn’t even copy anyone. i studied. i gave up naps. i even skipped watching every new episode on that damn drama on that week.”

shikamaru exhales through his nose. “and still failed.”

you look at him, eyes slightly watery. “what am i doing wrong? am i just… dumb?”

he walks back to you slowly. “no.”

“then why do i keep screwing up?”

he doesn’t answer right away. he just watches you, unreadable, quiet like always. you think he might brush it off, tell you it’s “not a big deal” like he usually does.

instead, he says, “i’ll tutor you.”

you blink. “what?”

“for the remedial. i’ll help you prep.”

“…seriously?”

he shrugs. “don’t want to date someone who keeps crying over easy thing like this.”

you swat his arm. “i’m not crying.”

“yet,” he replies flatly. then, without missing a beat, “but if i do this, you better pay attention. like, actually pay attention.”

you pout. “i do pay attention!”

he looks you dead in the eye. “you study for twenty minutes, then spend the next hour scrolling social media, drawing your ‘math cat’ characters, and pretending it’s part of the process.”

you look away, flustered. “it is part of the process…”

“it’s why you failed.”

you groan. “you’re so mean.”

“no,” he says coolly, starting to walk again. “i’m realistic. you want me to waste my energy teaching you when you’re half-listening? no thanks.”

you jog a bit to catch up, falling back into step beside him. “okay, okay. i’ll be serious this time. i’ll put my phone away. i’ll even print notes. like on actual paper.

“wild concept.”

you glance up at him. his face is still unreadable—bored, detached, like this is all just mildly inconvenient.

but when the silence stretches, he finally mutters, “i don’t want you to keep feeling like this.”

your heart jumps a little.

“feeling like what?”

“…like you’re not good enough.”

you blink. he doesn’t look at you when he says it. he just keeps walking, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket like none of this matters.

but it does.

you know it does.

because this is shikamaru.

and for someone who claims everything is a drag, he still offered to stay.

and teach.

and try.

even you’re not gonna end up as genius as him.

ᯓ 𐙚 thank you so much for all the support on my kakashi fanfic earlier, i really appreciate it! honestly, it makes me want to cry (in a good way).

© botanalche do not translate or repost, thank you

[dragoneyelashart]

teacher! sabrina and the classes she teaches

smut/fluff ୨ৎ

warnings: math 😖😖 a/n: some of these are meant to be silly🙏

french teacher! sabrina:

french teacher! sabrina who says everything with a sultry accent, even when she’s just asking for the attendance sheet, and you’re sitting there trying not to squirm

french teacher! sabrina who gives you private tutoring sessions after school, and sometimes you forget any french because she’s sitting too close, whispering “répète après moi, baby”

french teacher! sabrina who corrects your pronunciation by murmuring in your ear, her breath warm against your neck, her fingers brushing yours as she turns the page for you

french teacher! sabrina who wears sheer tights and button-up blouses and leans just a little too far over your desk, smirking when she catches your eyes drop

french teacher! sabrina who kisses down your spine and says “tu es à moi” in between each one, then fucks you slow and soft, calling you “ma chérie” the whole time

french teacher! sabrina who makes you croissants from scratch on the weekend and teaches you dirty phrases in bed just to hear you moan them with a terrible accent

french teacher! sabrina who gets off on being called “miss carpenter” even outside the classroom, especially when it’s while she’s pinning your wrists above your head

french teacher! sabrina fingers are inside you, slow and deep, whispering “dis-le encore, ma salope…”

french teacher! sabrina who edges you over her desk with your panties stuffed in your mouth so no one hears you moaning her name through the thin classroom walls

french teacher! sabrina who teaches a full lesson like nothing happened, while you sit in the front row still aching, thighs sticky, her lipstick smudged across your inner thigh

french teacher! sabrina who places on your her lap in her office chair, telling you how to conjugate words, rolling your hips so you can feel her strap.

french teacher! sabrina who comes home from a long day of teaching, throws her bag down, pulls you by the jaw and says, “on your knees. now.”

geography teacher! sabrina:

geography teacher! sabrina who has a huge wall map in her classroom and lets you put a pin in every place you say you want to go, then later, she kisses you breathless and whispers, “i’ll take you there someday”

geography teacher! sabrina who quizzes you by tracing lines down your arm, softly asking, “where’s the andes? where’s the danube?” like a game that always ends with her mouth between your thighs

geography teacher! sabrina who wears glasses and talks about gets excited when you ask her questions, you stop listening halfway through and just stare at her lips

geography teacher! sabrina who books a cabin in the woods for “field research” but you don’t bring anything except lingerie and snacks

geography teacher! sabrina who marks your body like a map, one bite for every place she wants to go with you, soft bruises along your collarbone like coordinates only she understands

geography teacher! sabrina who moans your name into the crook of your neck and says, “you’re my whole world, baby. every last inch of it.”

geography teacher! sabrina who spreads you out on her desk and says, “we’re doing hands-on learning today,” then traces your body with a ruler like it’s a topographic map

geography teacher! sabrina who makes you label different parts of her body while you kiss them, “this is the valley. this is the ridge. this is the peak. and this? mine.”

geography teacher! sabrina who keeps a globe in her bedroom and spins it, telling you to pick a place  “wherever you land, i’ll fuck you like we’re there.”

geography teacher! sabrina who fucks you in a car overlooking a canyon, one hand on your throat and the other up your skirt, saying “tell me where you want it, use your words.”

geography teacher! sabrina who marks bite-sized “landmarks” down your chest like a dotted path, following them with her tongue until you’re begging for her to reach the “final destination”

english teacher! sabrina:

english teacher! sabrina: who smells like coffee and old books and always has lipstick slightly smudged from sipping too fast between classes

english teacher! sabrina who teaches you to love poetry again, quoting sappho with a smirk and a wink like she knows exactly what she’s doing

english teacher! sabrina who invites you to her office to “go over your writing” and ends up bending you over her desk while the door stays half-open

english teacher! sabrinawho reads aloud in class, her voice low and slow, and every time she says “love” your stomach flips

english teacher! sabrina who annotates your body like it’s her favorite book, kisses down your thighs with whispered praises like “excellent use of imagery” and “10/10 climax”

english teacher! sabrina who gets possessive when she sees someone else quoting shakespeare at you, and later she punishes you by making you recite lines while you ride her

english teacher! sabrina who says “words matter” but still groans when you go speechless with your hands in her hair

english teacher! sabrina who ties your wrists with her scarves or ties and makes you read poetry out loud while she sits between your legs, tongue slow on your clit

english teacher! sabrina who calls it “oral analysis” and won’t let you come unless you quote your favorite line from a book while she has her mouth on you

english teacher! sabrina who makes you write an essay on how she makes you feel and reads it aloud while fingering you, breath hitching when you use words like “ruined” and “obsessed”

english teacher! sabrina who keeps a notebook of all the things you say when you’re begging, and calls it “your best writing to date”

math teacher! sabrina:

math teacher! sabrina who wears tight pencil skirts

math teacher! sabrina who gently taps your notebook with her red pen and leans down way too close to fix your mistake, and you can barely hear her over your heartbeat

math teacher! sabrina who texts you equations with flirty answers like “69 ÷ 3 = how many times i want you tonight”

math teacher! sabrina who gives you “extra credit” assignments that somehow always end with your legs shaking over her desk or in the supply closet

math teacher! sabrina who wipes your tears when you don’t understand a topic, quick to reassure you that she’s here the whole time to help

math teacher! sabrina who teaches you ratios by making you come in different positions and calling it “a balanced equation”

math teacher! sabrina who gets breathless whispering “fuck, baby, you do the math” when you ask how many times she’s already finished

math teacher! sabrina who pins a sticky note to your shirt after class that just says: “you + me = detention ;)”

math teacher! sabrina who makes you do mental math while riding her strap, every wrong answer gets you edged harder until your voice is cracking

math teacher! sabrina who says “you wanna count? count how many times i make you come before class ends” while your hands claw at her blouse and her thigh presses against your soaked core or while she leaves a vibrator in you while she lectures

math teacher! sabrina who uses her whiteboard marker to draw positions and says “you’re gonna demonstrate this next” then wipes it off with your shirt

math teacher! sabrina who fucks you with a ruler between your thighs, whispering “measuring progress, baby. stay still.”

math teacher! sabrina who won’t let you finish until you solve a word problem while she’s fingering you  “if i have two fingers inside you and a tongue on your clit, what’s your answer?”

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @bitchesbrokenpromises @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns @peytonneilish @chrissv4mp @too-sapphic-to-function @thebluediner @aka-persephone @vijaxx @thinkshespretty @emi-inspace @lilnini777 | send an ask or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

nerdy!vi SFW AND NSFW HEADCANNIDS PLEASE PLEAEE PLEAE PLEASE PLEASE PLEAE LEAEE SEE PKEADE

Warnings: SMUT, toy use, oral, not proof read

A/N: you literally read my thoughts, I love you for this anon

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧e

SFW

Nerdy!Vi, who first gave you tutoring sessions in college to earn a buck on the side, she couldn’t help but admire you while she tried her best to explain math to you. All while you weren’t at all focused on what she was writing down, you just liked hearing her voice.

Nerdy!Vi, who you met with her almost every week even though you already understood what she was teaching you. You soon realize that, who you thought to be an awkward nerd, actually knew her way around with words, so it only took her a few “tutoring” sessions until she had you on a date

Nerdy!Vi, who never plans boring dates, while your friends would just go out to eat or watch a movie, Vi took you Stargazing (With a telescope she got from Viktor after a week of convincing), to an arcade, or to sing karaoke even though she was terrible at it.

Nerdy!Vi, whose favorite activities is to have you on her lap while she teaches you how to play her favorite video games. You are only familiar with games like animal crossing, stardew valley, or minecraft she is set on introducing you to games like valorant, skyrim, or darksouls. Most evenings though end with her helping you (playing the game for you while you ranted over your day) or you convincing her to play the sims.

Nerdy!Vi, who doesn’t know that you downloaded 16 GB sims cc on her precious gaming PC.

Nerdy!Vi, who when you left her alone in your dorm punches your stuffed animals for no particular reason.

Nerdy!Vi, who is a scarily good boxer, every time she comes home, from practice, you can’t help but be obsessed with her biceps pump.

Nerdy!Vi, who even though she’s incredible smart, sometimes has the badest ideas known to men, especially in combination with Jacye.

Nerdy!Vi, who needs to be stopped from breaking a guys nose for cat calling you.

NSFW

Nerdy!Vi who, is the biggest perv when she's with you constantly touching your chest or ass in public to make sure everyone knows who you belong to.

Nerdy!Vi who, rewards you with orgasms when you learn with her. She holds your pretty little vibrator to your clit while she asks you your flesh cards. And when you got something wrong she pulls it away, making you cry under her touch

Nerdy!Vi who, would spend hours eating you out if she could. She's obsessed with your taste. She eats you out the morning before her exams as a good luck charm. (Her fogged up glasses stay on)

Nerdy!Vi who, makes you strap warm her while she is on a discord call with friends. Sometimes she puts her headset on you to watch you snuggle to keep up a conversation while she slowly moves her hips

[archiveof22048]

oceans and engines | michael kaiser sfw | fem!reader with she/her pronouns, swearing

he sees footprints on the sand, he smells the salty air of the sea, and he feels the coldness of your hand, who drags him along the bleakness of the beach. even as he closes his eyes, knowing that he trusts you with where you're leading him, he can still hear the huffing of his breath, trying to keep up with your pace, he can still feel the waves crashing around his bare feet, and he can still taste your expensive chapstick on his lips, as cold as they may be.

"open your eyes, mihya."

and so he does.

the sky is still as it was: desolate and devoid of blue, overcast, and sad. the sea is cold, vast, neverending.

immediately, he tenses up, and he thinks maybe he should have listened to you when he peeled off his jacket before you left his car in the parking lot (it's not even his own car, nor his own jacket, but he hasn't the heart to tell you). he's jealous of you, with your hands tucked in the pockets of your jacket, all bundled up in your layers.

then, you scream.

"the fuck was that?" he asks, his voice raised.

"i'm letting go," you say, just a bit louder than his question. you've got this smile on his face that begs for him to kiss you again.

he scoffs. "of what? you don't even have anything to let go of."

"just shout, mihya!"

and so he does.

"FUCK!!!!!!!!"

you laugh. "yes, that's it! just scream!!!"

"goddamnit!" he screams into the sea. "fuck you, dad! fuck my life! agh!" he kicks the sand, but the sand is wet and hard to kick up, so he gets even more frustrated, and he kicks harder. it splatters on the ground like blood.

again, you giggle. "look at you, soccer player. kicking up anything you see."

he rolls his eyes, but he's half-smiling. "you're lucky i left the soccer ball in the car or else i would have kicked that shit in your face."

"but then i would have a broken nose, and i wouldn't be pretty anymore," you quip, pouting.

he marches over to you, as shouting into the sea had migrated him away from where you are standing. he cups your cheeks gently. "whatever. as long as your lip's not busted, or else it'd be pretty hard to kiss you, huh?"

"jeez mihya, you're so clingy today," you tease as he leans into you, burrowing his face into your neck. he claims it's warm, but you can feel the cold touch of his lips right on the base of your neck. all you can do is wrap your arms around him, and you keep your giddiness to yourself by planting your feet in the sand (if you bounce your knees, he'll remind you of how excited you were when he returned your feelings for him).

"teach me something," he mumbles, dodging your tease.

you rub your hand over his back. "what would you like to learn today?"

"i dunno, just anything."

"but that's what you always say!"

"math, then."

you scoff. "i can only teach you so much math! i'm still learning geometry!"

he laughs. "isn't that just triangles and stuff?"

you pull away from his grasp, still holding onto his hand. your fingers are interlaced. "yeah, well... it's hard to explain."

eventually, you decide to review the vocabulary list that you learned in school the past week. you sit down on the sand, taking off your leather bag and pulling out your school notebook, and he sits down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

after reciting your fifty words for the week, you close your notebook, and you sling the bag over your shoulder. "well, that's vocabulary for you," you conclude.

"interesting," he says. "now i know what the word 'philosophy' means."

the both of you stand up and dust off the sand from your legs and behinds. he takes it as an opportunity to rub your behind, borderline caressing your ass, and you turn around and smack his hand away.

"mihya!"

"must've been the wind," he jests, giving you his signature half-smirk.

you look at your wristwatch. "ah, mihya. it's five after."

he rolls his eyes. "whatever. he's not going to get back 'til way later, anyways. gonna go gamble whatever money we have left."

you tuck your hands into your pockets, smiling sheepishly up at him. "well, let's at least start walking back to your car in case he does come back earlier than you expect."

...

he puckers his lips.

"give me a kiss before you leave."

rou've got one foot out of the car, ready to be dropped off in front of your house, while he holds onto your left wrist, stopping you from leaving. he looks like he really owns the car he stole: he grips the steering wheel like he's driven the car a million times, and his slouched posture is to show he's not afraid of wondering whether you're going to kiss him or not.

you close your eyes and smile while you lean in.

"i love you, mihya."

"i love you, too."

then, you leave the car and that is the last time michael kaiser sees you before he becomes famous.

...

"she's beautiful, kaiser."

kaiser looks up from his phone.

it's alexis ness, his teammate, who takes a seat next to him on the bench of bastard munchen's locker room. he's being awfully nosy right now, peering over next to kaiser, taking a look at what's on his phone screen.

"my stupid phone from five years ago has the shittiest quality," kaiser dejectedly states. "you can't even see her eyes clearly."

"but you have a new phone just last year," ness points out.

kaiser scoffs, and he starts rubbing his phone screen with the bottom of his shirt, pretending like it'll do something to clear up the photo of you. "yeah, and transferring all these pictures of her fucked up the quality."

ness hums in understanding (he doesn't get it). "well," he begins to pry, "who is she?"

kaiser's smirk that appears on the field, ness notices, is cold and haughty. it is angering, irritating, and would make any opponent of his shudder and scream. it identifies the emperor of the field, and it is an expression that rules over all.

yet, this smile of kaiser's is unlike anything ness has ever seen during his years of knowing him. kaiser's piercing blue eyes immediately soften, and only the corners of his mouth are lifted up in a smile- it's gentle, bittersweet, and humble. ness feels like he's intruding into the depths of kaiser's heart.

"she's my girlfriend."

ness stands up in shock, and he can't help but clutch the back of his head to accentuate his surprise. "you never told me you had a girlfriend, kaiser!"

kaiser can't help but laugh. "you never asked!"

"well, what does she do?" ness asks curiously.

kaiser hums in thought. "hmm. well, when she was in tenth grade she said she wanted to become a writer. dunno if that's changed, though."

it takes a second for ness to process his answer. "you... don't know what she's doing?"

"well, she's probably studying in university right now. can't say for sure what she's learning."

again, ness is confused. he furrows his brows. "are you saying you haven't talked to her since five years ago? since you joined bastard munchen?"

kaiser looks down in what could be described as shame. ness isn't really sure what he'd call it, but it is definitely not pride. it's such a foreign look on kaiser's face, no expression like ness has ever known kaiser to make.

it becomes increasingly difficult for kaiser to defend himself. so, he resorts to a different tactic: he begins to show ness different photos of you. "oh," kaiser says in fake surprise, "look at this picture of her."

it was a struggle to plan dates between the two of you, but on the rare occasion that you and he could hang around your neighborhood, you'd take him to your favorite ice cream parlor. during this particular date, you and kaiser challenged each other to see who could finish their ice cream cone the fastest, but it ended up as a default win for kaiser as you had accidentally knocked over your ice cream and it landed straight onto the ground.

ness is immediately drawn to the exaggerated faux frown on your face, coupled with happy eyes. he looks over your expensive outfit, and then down at where you're pointing in the image: the melting ice cream on the ground.

he laughs. it's a short "haha," and he isn't sure whether it's out of pity, or if he's trying to play it cool for the delusional kaiser, or if it is genuinely a funny picture. but, he looks past the phone in front of him and looks at kaiser, who has this expression that borderlines ignorance and pure joy.

"funny, right? she's so clumsy, i swear," kaiser says, swiping through more photos on his phone. ness cannot help but notice the softness in kaiser's eyes; how unfamiliar it is to see this boy so vulnerable. "take a look at this one."

after screaming at the beach, kaiser let you take control of the music in the car on the way back to your house. thus, you were granted access to his phone- shoddy, yet reliable. it was probably not the best for taking quality pictures, but pictures were memories, nonetheless.

it was a selfie of the two of you, with you sticking your tongue out and holding a peace sign, and kaiser with his eyes laser-focused on the road. he's got his left hand on the steering wheel and his right on your thigh. as casual as the photo was, ness already knew the intimacy of your relationship.

as kaiser pulls back his phone, ness watches kaiser's expression once more. he looks at his phone like he's in love. kaiser's peculiar smile, unfamiliar to his face, was born from the feelings he held for this girl that he hasn't talked to since he was whisked away in the world of soccer.

"i wonder if she watches my games," kaiser wonders out loud. "i mean, i must be that famous to be appearing nationwide, right?"

ness is taken aback by the sudden change of tone. "u-uh, yeah, for sure, kaiser."

kaiser is pleased with ness's answer. then, he goes back to his phone, swiping through more photos, and consequently chuckles. "oh my god, i forgot i took this video. look at this, ness."

the quality is so bad, but at least he can hear your voice.

...

you're holding onto his soccer ball.

your back is turned to him, and you're dragging him along by holding onto his wrist. his other hand is holding his phone, recording you.

"we're almost there, mihya," you call out from over your shoulder.

his hand holding the phone swats away tree branches, and occasionally dried up leaves crinkle beneath his feet.

"jeez, are you gonna kidnap me or something?" he asks from behind the camera.

then, it suddenly comes into view.

it's an open field. it's just pure grass for miles and miles, and for some reason, it's all trimmed.

the camera pans onto you, and it's slightly shaky. you hold up your hands in defense, and you exclaim, "i didn't cut any of this grass, by the way! i just found it like this, and i wanted to show you. so you can play soccer to your heart's content..."

you drop the soccer ball and begin kicking it around. you've picked up some tricks from him.

"there's no goal post though, i hope you don't mind..."

then, the phone drops.

he calls out your name. "i love you."

"i love you too, mihya."

"i love you more!"

"you better make it big, okay? i didn't show you this field for nothing."

"well, you better watch me, alright?"

"i'll always be watching!"

"shit, wait, where's my phone?"

[makkir0ll]

Congratulations on the milestone!!! 🎉🎊

Can I request number 22 for Mattsun, please? I can just imagine having him as my best friend in high school that I have a huge ass (not so) secret crush on and he’d be such a little shit about itttt ((and the feeling’s always been mutual but i was too dense to notiiiiccceeedjfjdjsk))

i loved this request!! also sorry for taking so long school is kicking my ass but once summer is here i'll be able to focus on the requests so they're coming guys i promise!

200 milestone event!

matsukawa + 22 ("does it make you nervous when i stare?" / "yes! so stop staring!" / "oh absolutely not")

matsukawa's big crush on you had been obvious to everyone.

well everyone but you.

it was obvious in the way he would always walk you to your class which led to him almost being late every morning. waiting for you outside of your club room no matter how long it took so he could walk you home. he would give you his lunch if you forgot it at home one day. tying his scarf around you during the winter to keep you warm while he pretended not to shiver.

and it was very obvious that the feelings were reciprocated, in the way your cheeks would turn a bright shade of red whenever his hand would brush against your knee and when you could feel his minty breath fan across your face when he would whipser a dumb joke to you in class. everyone knew, even him. and he took that to his advantage.

right now the two of you lay sprawled out on his bedroom floor. even though the door is closed you can hear the ruckus on his little siblings coming from the living room. the two of you had been taking a break from studying for your next test for about five minutes, scrolling on your phones in silence. it was comforting.

"okay," you start, moving yourself off the floor to look back at the papers that are all over the floor "we need to finish studying mattsun." you poke at his leg, to which he groans.

"i've accepted my fate, i'm going to fail this test." he sits back up, running a hand through his disheveled hair and you try really hard to not stare at him, but it was difficult when he looked that good. his school tie hanging loose around his neck, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up with exposed the veins from his hands that led up to his forearms.

shaking your head and going back to focus on the array of math problems in front of you, you feel him lean towards you, a little too close to be considered friendly and you can smell that familiar scent of mint as he asks in a soft voice, “do you understand this problem?” his pen points to the problem he was having trouble with. with cheeks flushed a hue of pink, you nod your head, trying to contain yourself.

you begin to explain the problem and how to solve it, trying hard to stay focused even tho his hand was drawing patterns on your knee and you could feel his brown eyes staring at you instead of the problem that you’re working hard to teach it to him. even though he’s accepted his fate, you weren’t going to let him.

“…so the inverse of the sin is one over sin and…”you begin to trail off, losing concentration due to the close proximity between the two of you.

“and?” he teases, moving closer. you look up to him and look into his brown eyes and your cheeks go from pink to red. you try and maintain eye contact with him and he notices how your pupils dilate the longer you keep looking into his eyes. you notice that slowly, as the seconds pass he’s moving closer to you. the nerves in your system taking over you look away, a hand coming to cover your embarrassed face.

“can you not do that?” you ask, face still hidden in your hands.

“do what?” he pretends to act confused. he knows what he’s doing.

“stare at me.” you admit shyly.

“oh?” he leans in closer, you can feel his minty breath in your ear when he whispers, “does it make you nervous when i stare?” he hand comes to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. you immediately notice the beauty mark that’s above his cupids bow.

“yes. yes it does, so stop staring” you whisper

“oh absolutely not” he teases. he takes this opportunity and leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. he pulls away and is met with your stunned expression. he’s trying hard to not smile but it’s hard when you look so cute to him. he feels you tug at his loosened tie, pulling him into you and you lock your lips with him again. holding him there with his school tie as everything around the two of you fades away.

since he had already accepted his fate of failing this test, maybe he could spend some time studying you.

[deezee112]

The ending 3 : Fractured Reflections

Masterlist | Ending 2 | Ending 4

Yandere!Platonic!Deuce Spade x GN!kid!Reader

A/N : Hey, just wanted to say—whatever the ending is in the first part, that’s how it ends, whether it’s good or bad. Alright, time to get back to work.

Warning : emotional instability , toxic behavior , and accidental violence leading to severe injury.

Tags :

@sherryclover @creativecupcake @hsjdhehsjssj @neufora

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

" My name is Deuce. " he said, his voice awkward but warm, a hint of nervousness lacing his words.

You stare at him, still hidden beneath the blanket, your small hands clutching the fabric. He looks no different from a tall man with dark blue hair and an air of unease. His eyes are gentle almost kind but there’s something feral beneath them. A quiet storm struggling to stay restrained.

“ D-Deuce…? ” you whispered, and the name felt strange but comforting on your tongue.

“ Yeah! That’s me! ” He smiled, a little too wide, trying to seem friendly but ending up looking even more nervous. “ Uh…want me to help you with anything? I’m…I’m actually pretty good at stuff! ”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded slowly.

And so it began. Deuce was like a clumsy but well-meaning big brother. He’d help you with your homework at least, he tried to. Most of the time, you ended up staring at the same math problem together, neither of you understanding it.

“ I-I think it’s, uh…seven? ” he’d say, scratching his head.

“ It’s multiplication, Deuce. Seven times four… ”

“ Oh, right! I knew that! It’s, um…twenty…twenty-eight? ” he’d finally get it, and you’d laugh, a small, shy giggle that always made his worried face light up.

He wasn’t perfect far from it. Sometimes he’d drop things, accidentally tearing your favorite book while trying to put it away. He’d promise to teach you how to draw, only to end up with messy scribbles that even he laughed at.

But he tried.

And whenever he messed up, he tried to make it right. When he broke your favorite glass in a fit of frustration, you stared, wide-eyed, as the pieces scattered across the floor.

“ Huh…? ” you mumbled, stunned.

Deuce’s face turned pale. “ I-I didn’t mean to! It just— I was just— ” His voice cracked, and he immediately grabbed a broom, his hands shaking as he swept up the broken glass. “ Don’t worry! I’ll—I’ll get you a new one! I promise! ”

The next day, he brought you a new glass. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t have the little stars etched on it like your old one. But he handed it to you, his eyes wide and pleading. “ I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to… ”

You wanted to be angry, but you saw how his hands trembled, how his gaze never left your face, searching for even the smallest sign of forgiveness.

And you smiled. “ It’s okay, Deuce. ”

His shoulders relaxed, and he grinned. “ Thanks, y/n! I promise, I won’t mess up again! ”

But he always did.

Deuce was good he really was. But only in his mind.

Sometimes he got mad. Mad at small things. Mad at you when you forgot something. Mad at himself when he couldn’t help you. His voice would rise, his fists clenching, his eyes burning with frustration.

But he always tried to apologize. He’d always come back, his head bowed, his voice trembling.

“ I didn’t mean it, y/n…I’m sorry… ”

And you always forgave him. Because that’s what friends did, right?

But then one rainy evening, everything changed.

The sky was dark, raindrops tapping against the windows like a thousand tiny fingers. You were in the living room, trying to finish your homework. The numbers swam before your eyes, a dull ache pounding in your head.

“ I don’t get it… ” you whispered, your pencil tapping nervously on the paper.

Deuce leaned over your shoulder, his brows furrowed. “ It’s…just addition, right? You just… you know, add them together! ”

“ But I keep messing up… ”

“ It’s not that hard! ” His voice was sharper than usual. “ I mean, come on, y/n! Even I can do this! ”

Your shoulders tensed. “ I’m trying, but I don’t understand! ”

“ Then try harder! ” he snapped, slamming his hand on the table.

The sound echoed in the room, louder than the rain outside.

Your chest tightened. “ Deuce, please… ”

“ Please, please, please! ” he mocked, his voice rising. “ You always say that! ‘Deuce, help me! Deuce, I can’t!’ Well, maybe I can’t help you either! Maybe I’m just— ”

“ Stop it! ” you shouted, tears welling in your eyes.

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t see the fear in your eyes. He didn’t hear the quiver in your voice. He just saw red.

“ Fine! ” he yelled, grabbing the workbook and hurling it across the room. “ Fine! Maybe you’re just too dumb to— ”

His words froze in his throat.

You were crying. Quiet, silent tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands trembling.

“ I hate this…I hate this… ” you whispered, backing away from him. “ Why are you always like this…? ”

His expression twisted—shock, regret, but also something darker. “ I-I didn’t mean—y/n, I— ”

But you were already running. Running to your room, slamming the door shut. Curling up on your bed, pulling the blanket over your head, trying to drown out the thunder of the rain and the sound of your own sobs.

Outside, you heard his footsteps, his panicked knocking.

“ y/n! Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Please, let me in! ” His voice cracked, breaking. “ y/n… please… ”

But you didn’t answer.

The rain didn’t stop for days. Each drop was a steady, cold reminder of his voice, his anger.

You avoided him. Whenever he came into the room, you looked away. When he tried to speak, you stayed silent.

It was only a few days later that he finally broke.

“ y/n, please…I can’t take it…Please talk to me.. ” he whispered, kneeling by your bed. His eyes were red, dark shadows beneath them. “ Please… ”

And you looked at him, saw the guilt etched on his face, the way his hands shook. You didn’t feel angry anymore. Just…tired.

“ It’s okay, Deuce.. ” you whispered.

He smiled, but there was a hollowness in it. “ R-Really? You mean it? ”

You nodded.

But something was different. His smiles didn’t seem as bright. His jokes fell flat. Even when he messed up, you just stared, quiet, like you were waiting for something to break.

And then it did.

You were in the living room, trying to reach a book on the top shelf. The room was dim, the rainclouds outside casting gray shadows across the walls. Deuce was by the window, struggling with the old lamp that had been flickering for days.

“ Stupid thing…why won’t it just work? ” he muttered, jiggling the cord, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“ Deuce, maybe just leave it. We can get a new one.. ” you suggested, your voice soft, trying not to sound afraid.

“ No! I can fix it! I can do this! ” he snapped, tugging at the cord again.

“ Deuce, please, you’re going to— ”

“ I know what I’m doing! ”

The next second happened in a blur.

The cord snapped. The lamp, heavy and solid, slipped from his grip, crashing down. Instinctively, you stepped forward just as it swung, the base striking you hard across the side of your head.

A sharp, blinding pain exploded through your skull. Your vision went white, then dark. Your knees buckled, and the world spun.

“ y/n! ” Deuce’s voice was a distant echo, warped and panicked. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “ No, no, no—this can’t—y/n! Open your eyes! Please! ”

The pain was sharp, but then…a numb, cold feeling settled over you. Your body felt heavy, your thoughts sluggish. You wanted to say something, to tell him it hurt, to tell him you were scared…

But nothing came out.

“ y/n…y/n, please… ” His voice was cracking, his tears dripping onto your cheek. “ It’s not that bad, right? It’s not that bad…please…I can fix it…I’ll fix you, too…just—just wake up! ”

But you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could only hear his desperate, trembling words, fading into a distant murmur.

Darkness crept in, a heavy, silent curtain, muffling everything.

And then…nothing.

Deuce sits beside your bed, his hands clutching a bloodstained towel.

“ Please…wake up…I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… ”

But you didn’t move.

No matter how many times he apologized, you didn’t answer.

No matter how much he begged, you never opened your eyes.

“ I killed you…again… ” he whispered, his voice hollow, his tears endless.

And the rain outside never stopped.

[darius-shack]

Favorites

for #pinesot4month2025

prompt from day 4, twincest week: stancest

summary: ANOTHER getting together fic, oops. long awaited lifelong kiss. STAN O WAR II. Ford's favorite anomaly in his life is Stan, the man who stayed.

Out of all the anomalies he's experienced, Stan by far is the outlier in his eyes. He didn't quite understand his dedication to get him back until he asked who had helped him.

When Stan had said, "Absolutely no one. I did it by myself."

"You're telling me you read through every single one of my books and papers alone?"

"I had a lot of time on my hands. I had a lot of time to figure out how your brain had changed, how you organized, how you thought. Took some imagination but I figured out ways around the hard stuff, like math."

"How did you do that?"

"...I pretended you were teaching it to me, like it was all new. Like you did when we were kids."

Thirty, no, forty years apart. And yet it was still noticeable, Stan's sort of obsession with wanting to be by his side. Ford's considered himself lucky, cursed, and everything in between because of it. Now, after almost losing the one man who never gave up on him, he considered if it was skin deep or something more.

If it was something... more, how come Stan never said anything? Maybe it was never the right moment? Ford himself had resigned to never speaking about such a thing because he knew it was wrong, it had been his whole life. He assumed he was one of those people that would forever be single and married to his work and lifelong achievements. But now...

Now after losing Stan and regaining him back, there's no question that Ford loved him. Always had.

Sounds of gently slapping water adorned the air, mixed with the smell of warm salt due to their low latitude, close to the equator to give his brother's joints a break from cold weather. Partial clouds shown a pink lit sunset upon the side of their vessel, and the two were on deck with a few drinks.

"You wanna know what my favorite anomaly in those Journals of yours was?" Stan casually asked, taking another swig from his beer.

"Oh, please tell."

"It was that gourd with a face. Second favorite was the geode dudes you can strike together like a flint and steel, that's fun."

"Ah yes, I wish I could have kept one, but why the gourd face?"

"Eh, guess it reminded me to keep going."

"How so?" Ford furrowed his brows.

"Just... weird things like that, getting attention from a smart guy like yourself, it's humbling in a way. That you uh, care, like that."

There's a pause, and Ford thought he understood. But maybe Stan's talking about something else in a subtle way as he often does. A remainder of having all that time to lie. Maybe it's a white lie, the reason that it's his favorite, for what he couldn't tell.

"My favorite anomaly is you." It's said with no ill intent, yet Stan gave him a look, almost... fearful? Ford explained further, "After all this time, the personal hardships between us, my utter foolishness to not have you by my side..."

"What are you getting at?"

"I," Ford sighed long and hard, "I'm not sure. Are you sure you're... happy, being out at sea with me?"

"Yeah, it's the dream. I wanted this for so long, Sixer."

"Is that... all your dream entailed?"

"I- uh," Stan thought for a moment, "Y-yeah. You're all I need."

It was said with an odd hesitance Ford isn't used to out of his twin, so he decided to pin it. "Am I, or is there something else that I'm missing? You're more, ah, sexually active than I am, if you're wanting a partner, we can go to shore and-"

"No, I don't need that." Stan seriously replied.

"Are you sure? I have no qualms with-"

"Yes! I just..." He blurted, quickly calming down, "I wanted you by my side. My whole life, that's all. It sounds pretty damn selfish considering you're my brother, I guess that makes me the freak of the family now."

"You aren't, I am." Ford said, taking a swig of his own beer. He considered whether or not that was an incestuous confession. "I do still top in the freak category."

Stan scoffed, glancing at his twin's face looking out to the setting horizon, "What's worse than me wanting you all to myself my whole damn life?"

"Me wanting you as badly, only to fumble it," Ford quickly stated, gripping the railing for all it's worth, "Me, wanting you to come back in my life only to push you away, for me to fumble again. What is worse is me... having a legitimate singular attraction and ruining it." It occurred to him now that maybe Stan's attraction doesn't run that deep, he's already dug himself a hole, might as well see where it goes.

"...Did you? Or did he?"

"I wasn't talking about Bill."

Stan's eyes widened, head turned to stare at him now. "You're... You didn't ruin it."

"I... I didn't?"

"Nope. Say, your 'attraction'... is it strictly platonic, romantic, sexual or what? A mix?"

"All of those." Ford breathed out, like expelling a demon from his soul. It felt incredibly enlightening to have such a suppressed experience and desire come to the fore front and be accepted.

"I got my dream, Sixer, I'm just missing one thing." The pink light shown on Stan's face like a beacon, smirking happily at his twin.

"What?" He whispered, hardly believing the sequence of revealing events.

"Your mouth on mine, is what I'm missing." Eyes darting down to Ford's lips like a tempting dessert.

Inhaling through his nose, he's not sure how to be suave with this. "You don't have to," Is what he muttered.

They're still staring deep into each other's brown eyes before Ford realized that it was him who has to initiate, seeing the slight gesture in Stan's patient expression, almost saying 'prove it'. So he does.

Ford took a hand and placed it on his face, like he used to when they were kids and he was comforting Stan after getting hurt, or crying when Pa was being overly mean. He's seen this in movies, kissing. It always seemed so far away from his reach and yet he was right here, about to do it willingly. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together with their glasses gently clanking and lips hovering, breaths ghosting off each other. It felt right.

Two seconds pass before Ford connected their lips, surprised at how soft yet warm the experience was. Other than that, everything felt on fire with nerves and awareness, desire. Stan hummed shortly and sighed, almost like a relief had washed over him. And what a great feeling that was, to give that to the man he loved everything he's ever wanted.

Stan pulled back, and Ford almost thought he did something wrong before he felt Stan pant for breath. "Sorry, I uh, needed some air. Got excited."

"Ah, right." They're still just as close, neither wanting to escape the moment that had occurred. But the sky was dimming, their features almost beginning to disappear.

"Do you want to go inside?" Ford asked first, "I wouldn't mind um, continuing with our activity."

"That would be great, I can't see shit anymore, too damn dark. Rather look at your pretty face all day," Stan said, walking to the door.

"I'msorrywhat?" Flew out of Ford's mouth so quick.

"You're pretty, handsome face. Wanna look at it all day, c'mon, it's getting chilly."

"Thank you." Is all he could respond with, before Stan grabbed his hand and dragged him inside their boat.

[twshipoftheday]

Teen Wolf Ship of the Day, January 6th

Malia Hale x Kira Yukimura

Malia watches her girlfriend play lacrosse and was finally happy to have been pulled out of the woods and introduced to Kira Yukimura.

Headcanons under the cut

Malia gets bored easily but can stay engaged with lacrosse for Kira. She's definitely the kind of enthusiastic girlfriend who yells at the referees

Kira does Tai chi and teaches Malia, it becomes their morning ritual

They go on camping dates and Malia curls up in coyote form next to Kira to keep her warm at night

Kira takes Malia to New York and shows her around. Malia loves the gas station Stewarts

Malia and Kira study together and Kira helps Malia with flash cards and math

Malia has to climb in Kira's window sometimes to avoid talking to Noshiko

Kira loves wearing Malia's clothing and Malia loves how Kira always smells like her

[majinbangus]

Professor!johnny gives you a vibe to wear in his lecture. Everytime you get an answer right or wrong he'll change the level on it. Just to tease you even more he'll get you to stand at the front to answer a question on the board. Staying back at the end of the class so he can finish you off with his-

i like it when he teaches math :) also this isn't professor!soap, but here's a university au thought i had awhile back. it's not nsfw, but it's something a little cuter

》 18+

Professor MacTavish is a strict instructor who only expects the best from his students. You especially since you get extra one-on-one tutoring time with him, and you’ve improved so much since the sessions started. He’s proud of how far you’ve come, but he always makes sure to keep you on your toes with the extra challenges he sets for you, such as the vibrator.

So prior to the beginning of class, he’ll warm you up. Lightly edge you with the vibrator before slipping it inside at a low setting, sending you off with a light slap to your ass. Oh, and he expects participation in his class, so you best be raising your hand and volunteering to solve each question he asks. If you don’t, he’ll increase the vibrator as punishment and purposely call upon you to answer. 

Hope you get it correct, too, because if you don’t, later on in his office, he’ll want to do a review of your mistakes, doing problems over and over again until you get them right. You won’t get to come in the end, and if you do, it’s only a ruined orgasm. That’s only if you mess up, though, so don’t worry too much.

If you make sure to participate and get the answers right? You can look forward to not having to think for once and being rewarded with his cock, getting the same amount of orgasms as the number of questions you answered and solved. He may be strict, but Professor MacTavish always acknowledges when his students do well. 

And don’t get jealous, it’s only you he gives special attention to. You are his favorite, after all.