── ★ WHEN DID YOU GET HOT? jock top m!reader x bttm nerd ⭒
⌗ hero ⋆ spider/moth/mantis hybrid ⋆ nerd oc
the last thing you'd expected when entering university was for the old highschool nerd to have gotten so pretty. not just that- but grow an attitude too. seems he has a need to make your life a living hell once he realises you're staring a bit too much.
⌗ cws... nerd x jock trope ⋆ suggestive ⋆ brat taming ⋆ college dynamics ⋆ strong language ⋆ he is suuuchh a brat
featuring ⢷ rishen herrera 781
char analysis ⢷ the kind, preppy nerd by day & fearless hero by night. a fusion of a spider, moth & mantis.
mission brief ⢷ omg a rishen series? a rishen series.
Rishen in highschool was that kid that was always just a mess. He was awkward, incredibly socially inept, unable to work well in group, and above all? A know it all. Fumbling with his notes and dropping flashcards all over the place. He was weird, to say the least. Most stayed clear, you included. As sport's captain you weren't too concerned with a stumbling nerd who couldn't even keep his glasses from falling off of his nose.
. . . but who the hell knew that all that would change in university? When the hell did Rishen Herrera get so hot?
You transferred to the city's university and the first thing you saw during your first day in class wasn't stumbling, or even fumbling weirdo— it was a self-assured, neat, frankly confident pretty boy and a smile that put the sun to shame. A red-knitted sweater vest with a finely pressed white collared shirt neatly laid over brown slacks. And to top it all off? Rimless, round glasses perched atop his curls. Did you mention that smile? That cherry tinted lipgloss? Wait— fuck, was that lipgloss?
While you were in heavy denial that this was the same boy you knew in highschool, you heard one of the girls in the front row call his name with a grin. And instead of fumbling. . . he merely smiled even brighter and waved. Once, twice, a greeting to more people than you could count as he made his way up the benches to the one of the few empty seats left. . . directly next to you.
"Oh, hey, are you new here?" He smiled at you. Smiled. And you knew in that very moment that you were oh so severely screwed.
Wait.
Did he not recognise you?
"I. . . uhm." You couldn't remember when last you fumbled. "Hey, Rishen. . . Remember me?"
But all he did was tilt his head. Furrow his brows and hum in thought. His little shrug left your heart frozen. How the hell couldn't he remember you? The highschool's golden boy?
"Highschool?" He mused at your reminder, fixing his glasses back over his nose and barely sparing you a glance as he tapped his holographic screen into view. As if you were far less important than his upcoming equations.
"Yeah, no wonder I don't remember you." He chuckled.
And what.
The hell.
Was that supposed to mean?
You would have brushed it off. Wouldn't have cared. Not as much as you were right now. If you hadn't seen the telltales of a smile. No. Not a smile— a smirk. One you hadn't quite seen from him, but one that you in all your fuckboy glory knew more than anyone.
Hold on. Was the weirdo turned pretty boy hearthrob. . . Fucking with you?
And that's what started your little mission to get his attention. To get him to remember you. Petty, you know. But you couldn't stand it. He used to stumble in the hallways and now he thought he was better than you? Worse, he thought he was coy.
What really drove you up the wall was the fact he barely gave you the time of day. A complete role reversal from highschool. He didn't need to. He had the looks. Had the brains. And for fucks sakes he had all the attention he needed. It wouldn't be such an issue if he wasn't such a brat. Oh so intentionally trying to rile you up at every opportunity.
"Mmm, no, of course that's not how you do it," he hummed and pushed his glasses into his hair as he looked over your screen. Condensation dripping from that deceptively sweet voice of his. You felt like you were about to burst a blood vessel. The professor really had to make your life hard by pairing you both for an assignment, huh? "Silly. Let me do it."
He undermined you. A lot. And the worst thing about it? You were sure he was getting a kick out of it. Brat.
Worst of all was when he seemed to belittle you even in your own playground— sport. He never played sport back in highschool why the hell was he so good at it now? And more than anything— why the fuck were you wayyy more focused on his ass in those shorts instead of the ball smacking you across the face? Ouch.
"You're staring," he notes after a stretch. You blinked, eyes fluttering as you tried to find some rebuttal. But he only smiled that. Sweet. Little smile. And brushed past you with a lilted hum. "Don't tell me the brute finds me pretty, hm?"
Of course he knew what he was doing to you! There was no way he couldn't. And now? You were determined to take that frustration out on something else. That tight ass looks like a good— wait. Woahh, calm down. What are you thinking?
You weren't about to let the highschool's resident weirdo get to you. What was he turning you into? And why were you letting him? You'd keep your distance. Well, as much as you could considering he was unfortunately your desk partner. But whatever. You wouldn't give him the time of day. Wouldn't bat an eye. Wouldn't—
"Are you that desperate for my attention?" You hissed at him after one too many accidental nudges of his foot into yours and his thigh into your knee beneath the desk
Rishen batted his eyes with that oh so fake look in his eyes and a small pout.
"Oh what's wrong? I'm only messing, you know."
"Mess with someone else."
You didn't mean to snap, but what did it matter? He didn't seem affected in the slightest. He only gave a theatrical little sigh and leaned his head into his palm to stare ahead at the front of the class.
Finally, some peace— was what you would have thought if you didn't make the mistake of looking over when you caught something in your peripheral.
"Y'know, I have the perfect solution for a blue monday. . . "
Because when you looked? The fucking brat's lips were parted to show you his tongue bulging at his left cheek. With a fist jutting in the same direction. Once. Twice. And then. A coy little giggle as he fixed his face and looked forward once more.
