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shouyuus · 7 months ago

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18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

#this is 3.4k words long hooolyyyyy shittttt someone shut me the fuck up; but literally i could've kept going #⛈ monsoon season #♨ steamy #arcane x reader #vi x reader #violet x reader #arcane smut #vi smut #arcane vi smut #vi arcane #arcane #lesbian #no like literally someone needs to shove their fingers down my throat (preferably vi tbh) bc i CANNOT SHUT UP #there will be more to this au TRUST #the post just got so long i felt like i needed to stop if only for length asldkjfd but like i might just start a new post and write more wo #i genuinely do not remember the last time i was THIS into a character TRULY #smut #x reader #also like i love this specific kind of 'brainrot' bc im actually legitimately writing this for myself like i want to read it back and sob #college roommate!vi

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academic-assistance · 2 years ago

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syoddeye · 3 months ago

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Bookworm. Ghost x Reader. cw: cyberstalking, abrupt ending a/n: to borrow a phrase from early, a brain hairball.

Simon hates being idle.

It leaves him feeling off, a knife left out in the rain. Rusting creeping along the edges, the weight uneven when you finally take it back in hand. Twice the effort to get it in killing shape again. That’s what leave does to him. Makes his skin crawl with the need to move, to do something. And this bloody physio appointment won’t scratch that itch.

His shoulder’s still not quite right. Stiff in the mornings and aching when the weather turns. Makes it impossible to train without spending forty-five to an hour on the floor, sweating and cursing. He’s been putting off the appointments, avoiding them outright. Gritting his teeth through it, but Price caught wind of it. Told him if he skipped another one, he’d drag Simon there himself.

So, here he is.

The café’s nothing special. Small, tucked away on a street where the foot traffic’s mostly locals. The kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking. He likes that about it. Quiet. Nobody’s looking at him twice with his cap pulled low.

He’s been here long enough for his coffee to go lukewarm, sitting near the window where the glass fogs from the chill outside. He watches people come and go, eyes drifting over faces without really focusing.

He should have arranged a bird to pass the week with. Would’ve been easier than sitting here or his miserable flat, waiting out the dead time between appointments. Someone warm and agreeable, eager to make use of him. Let him press the ache from his bones in a way that physio never will. Too late for that now. All he’s got is a bitter, room temp coffee and a stiff shoulder.

It’s almost a mercy, then, cosmic correction, for the universe to drop a little puzzle in his lap.

You sit down at the table next to him, barely sparing him a glance. You’re juggling too much—bag over your shoulder, laptop under one arm, and a mug clutched in hand. You drop everything down with more force than necessary, letting out a quiet sigh. Frustrated.

He steals a look while you set up.

You’re pretty. Ink smudges on your fingers, a tiny dot near your temple where you must’ve rubbed it without thinking. Something floral drifts off you—shampoo, maybe. Or perfume. Light and girlish. And the way your jeans hug your thighs. Hard not to look at.

He can’t help himself. Pure instinct, cataloging details and slotting them together.

Laptop stickers. A small cluster of them, nothing flashy. One’s a crest for a university. Another’s from a fabric store. A couple related to books.

Jumper. Grey, oversized. Worn. The same logo as the sticker, but with the department embroidered over your chest.

Notebook and book. Neat handwriting, margins filled with cramped notes, and arrows pointing to even more ideas. Dozens of colorful tabs stick out from the novel’s pages.

Dozens of messages. Simon stares at your phone on the edge of the table, catching the preview of the latest. Something about a meeting with your advisor and a graduate dissertation.

Your laptop opens to a wall of text. Hundreds of lines.

Student.

Easy to piece together.

You’re chewing on the inside of your cheek as you type, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Worrying it. Something stirs in his chest at the peek of your tongue.

No ring.

He scans your hands. No marks where one might’ve been.

Single. Unmarried, at least.

No tattoos. No visible scars. Nails painted, but barely. The polish is chipped, wearing away at the edges. You don’t bother keeping up with it. Too broke? Too busy?

Another vibration. A second message lights up your phone. This time, he sees more of it: Shift swap. Someone asking if you can cover tonight.

Works, then.

He swipes his thumb over his phone, scrolling absently, pretending, but his mind sticks fast. The facts are lining up, falling into place.

Grad student. Literature, most likely. Working on a dissertation. Works at least part-time to make ends meet. You keep squinting at your screen and notes. Maybe you need glasses or contacts.

Simon’s eyes drop to your jumper again.

Department of English and Creative Writing.

His mind is already filling in the gaps. The stickers on your laptop. The books. How you’re typing. Focused, wholly absorbed, with no awareness of the world around you. Lost in your own head, a few steps removed from reality.

Little bookworm.

He already knows your school and department. The name of your advisor who’s texted you. From there, it’s easy.

He tilts his phone away, though no one is paying attention to him. Especially not you. A quick search brings up the department’s website, a list of faculty, graduate students, and recent publications. He scrolls until—

A university blog post with a photo. Blurry, the lighting awful, but it’s you. The shape of your mouth, your face. Hands frozen in a fidget. Your name, attached to a paper. Has a nice ring to it.

Simon should stop here. You seem like a nice girl with a normal future and it’d be a shame to get in the way of that. But he doesn’t.

If anything, this is a good lesson for you to learn. To not be so permissive with your information and belongings. You shouldn’t leave your life so open, with easy-to-follow breadcrumbs. Who knows what might end up at your door, hungry for more?

Besides, if he didn’t do it, someone else would.

Your name leads to a personal website, then to social media, where your life is laid out in squares. Windows into the future. Bookstores, classes, afternoon tea. Friends. Flatmates. A black cat, curled up in a patch of sunlight on a lumpy sofa.

He taps through them, one by one, mapping out your world, mentally marking places, people. Figuring out precisely where he’ll slot in.

The reminder for his appointment pops up, buzzing in his hand. His thumb hovers for a moment longer, then he takes a screenshot—a photo of you on holiday, lying on your belly on a beach, looking up at the camera with a soft, easy smile. A book rests open on the towel in front of you, forgotten for the moment. A generous glimpse of the tits you’re currently hiding from him. Thighs pressed together, arse dusted in sand.

His jaw flexes as he breathes out through his nose, staring hard at you from the corner of his eye.

He wants to haul you into his lap and wipe the ink from your skin with a spit-slicked thumb. Pop the button on your fly, slip his hand down, and make you explain whatever the fuck it is you study while his fingers sink into you.

Instead, he pockets his phone and stands.

Flexes his thighs, eyes drifting out the window to keep himself in check.

He’s quietly pleased when he shuffles out on the side closest to you. You shift automatically, tucking your legs, making space without thinking, without looking up.

So. You notice some things. You still won’t see him coming.

Simon’s reluctant to leave now. Not with his new itch, the burgeoning curiosity for the bookworm walking the same streets as him. But he leaves, knowing he’s gathered enough for now. Enough to find you again, to keep that little thread of connection alive. Maybe the rest of the week won’t be so dull, after all.

His shoulder twinges as he rolls it again, but the discomfort doesn’t register as bad. He’ll sort it now.

He just needs it useful enough for a bit of lifting later.

#ghost x reader #another stressed + frazzled workaholic reader? i'm not projecting #anyway. vibes only as usual.

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dollishmehrayan · 3 months ago

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# “YEAH I’M A BUSY WOMAN I WOULDN’T LET YOU COME INTO MY CALENDAR” ── .✦ ( batboys x uni!reader because why not ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: writing this while like two cans of coke zero and I genuinely might pull a crazy all nighter but I sleep at 5 am normally so WHO GIVE A FUCKK, anywayss this goes to my stress ridden babies due to midterms for you guys soon I thinkk (all of us 🥲) tags: (batboys x reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He brings you snacks when you’re studying and by “snacks” we mean full takeout meals because he forgets how to portion ( accidentally gets you like 10 different sauces because he didn’t know which one you’d want. )

Will absolutely FaceTime you during your breaks just to make you laugh and decompress.

“So what are we learning today, professor babe?” , “I’m not even a professor dick.” while spinning in your desk chair.

Offers to help you practice presentations and claps like a proud dad after. (YES HE’S THAT CRINGEY)

Shows up to your classes sometimes just to walk you home hoodie, shades, and all like he’s one of those celebrities who avoid paparazzi.

Brags about you constantly: “They’re in college. That’s hot.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Brings you coffee strong enough to revive the dead. “You said you had a paper due, I brought the goods.”

Pretends to not care but is 100% the one who stays up with you all night while you write essays.

Sits on the couch reading classic literature while you're buried in textbooks. "Need help understanding The Iliad? I gotchu." ( he’s the besttt explainer )

Might write your prof a strongly worded email if he thinks you got graded unfairly. You have to stop him.

“Study breaks” with him usually turn into making out. And somehow more caffeine. ( i volunteer to contribute i fear )

Secretly keeps one of your academic achievements (like a certificate or paper) in his bookshelf. Doesn’t tell anyone.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The ultimate study partner. Organized notes. Color-coded everything. Quizlet decks for days.

“You’re not sleeping enough. Here’s melatonin. And a planner. Also, breathe.”

Will pull all-nighters with you and still somehow get 100% on his own assignments.

If you’re freaking out, he builds a full 7-step action plan with deadlines, breaks, and snacks.

Occasionally goes “I read that journal article actually, it’s flawed,” and you’re like ( insert standing woman emoji fr fr 🧍‍♀️)

Loves helping you with research. You say “I need a source,” and he sends you 12 peer-reviewed papers in 5 mins.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦ ( AGED UP FOR THIS BUT NO NSFW!)

“Tt. University is easy. You're making it harder than it needs to be.”, “EXCUSE ME-“ But deep down, he’s in awe of how hard you work.

Brings you your favorite drink exactly how you like it without asking and knows what flavor of drinks you like too.

He proofreads your essays like he’s a dissertation committee. Will roast you but also fix every single grammar issue.

Draws you little doodles on sticky notes with encouraging messages like, “You are competent. Continue.”

constantly complaining to you to, “You should be getting more sleep.” “You should talk to your professor.” “You should eat breakfast.”

Acts unimpressed until you ace a test, and then he casually slips a gift into your bag like it’s no big deal.

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 month ago

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[1:46 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

( @bluedbliss here you go!!)

"I don't know, I just feel bad. Don't you guys?" Jaehyun asked quietly as his eyes stayed locked on fratboy!Yuta who was staring at something on his phone.

"Do you guys think she's even real?" Mark replied with a confused look on his face.

You, Yuta's so-called girlfriend. There had been so many canceled visits, unanswered calls, late night calls, and dropped FaceTime calls between you and Yuta that at this point, his brothers were concerned. Did Yuta think he needed to make up a girlfriend so they'd like him? Did he feel left out when the other girlfriends came around? They were concerned that they were making him feel left out or that he maybe even had to lie to fit in. It totally wasn't the case. They'd support Yuta with or without a girlfriend.

"So, uh, tell us about how you guys met again?" Jaehyun asked Yuta.

Yuta turned from his seat on the couch with a bright smile, "I went home two summers ago and she was starting her semester abroad. It was love at first sight."

"She's still coming today, right? I feel like you've been waiting out here for a while, bro," Johnny asked in a gentle voice.

Yuta nods, looking back at his phone to check something, "yeah, dude, of course. Her flight was a little delayed and then she had two Ubers cancel, but she's already on her way."

The brothers nod slowly. Excuses, excuses... a couple months ago you could't make it because your flight to them was cancelled. Before that it was that you were swamped with homework. The time before that your flight had emergency landed with a 14 hour layover because a woman had given birth on your flight. There were just too many coincidences for the brothers to not be concerned.

Plus, Yuta never posted you under the guise of, "well, my girlfriend is a really private person." Sure, buddy...

"Tell us about her again?" Mark asked.

"She's a totally gorgeous, way out of my league, beautiful, sunning, breathtaking, genius woman. She's the best person I've ever met. She makes me a better person. She's the smartest person on the face of this planet. My mom loves her, my sisters love her, my dad loves her. Everyone loves her!" Yuta rants excitedly.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Yuta let's out some kind of choked honk before he sprints to the door. The group of confused brothers move in a unit to the hall to get a good view of the front door.

"Baby girl! You're here!" Yuta cheers as he engulfs someone. They all crane their necks, but its impossible to tell who Yuta is hugging.

Then, as if some silent prayers were being answered, Yuta moves and there you stand. "She's actually real," Haechan whispers. They're all stuck in some kind of trance, in shock because, yeah— you are real and you're in their doorway.

Taeyong is the first to greet you with a warm smile and the rest follow suit. Soon enough you're all standing around in the kitchen snacking while making conversation.

Doyoung clears his throat, "so Yuta tells us you're a genius?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "I'm not a genius, he just says-"

"She is!" Yuta interrupts, "she got into university early. She graduated early with the highest GPA in her university, and she's getting two master's degrees right now!"

"Well, I haven't gotten them yet, I'm pursuing them," you correct softly, squeezing Yuta's hand lovingly.

"Woah, two master's at once. Is that even possible?" Mark asks with his brows arched high.

"For my baby girl it is," Yuta answers with his chest puffed out in pride.

Again, you laugh softly as you correct your boyfriend, "it's definitely not common, but for my program the dual degrees are an option. My program mentors are very supportive and helpful. It keeps me busy, but I have a free weekend since my dissertation is being looked over this week, so I came to see my guy."

"Holy cow, you're so cool!" Haechan exclaims in a whisper.

"Why are you dating him? You know he's failed more classes than any of us here, right? Don't you want someone on your level?" Mark asks.

Yuta glares at Mark, but he calms when you rub his back. You turn to Mark, "I don't expect him to be perfect. Everyone has struggles when they first enter university and Yuta was far from home. There were a lot of other factors contributing to those few failed classes."

You take a sip of the water in your hand, "and I'm with Yuta because I love him, plain and simple. It's... hard living up to the expectations of all the people around me. I was so used to functioning under a crazy amount of stress in a way that isn't healthy in the slightest. Yuta just made me feel lighter. I met him and I felt like I could just... breathe. He supports me in whatever I choose. If I decided to drop my program tomorrow and move to the South Pole, I know he'd support me with no questions asked. He doesn't care about me because of my school, my academic abilities, or my brain. He cares about my being happy. That's all I can ask for."

"Bro, that's so romantic. Wait, I love you guys!" Jaehyun smiles, as he tugs you both in for a hug.

You hug him back with a watery laugh, leaning into Yuta's side when Jaehyun steps back. Yuta squeezes your side and lays his head atop yours, "and I failed three classes, Mark! Three! Bowling, massage, and judo. Don't make me look bad in front of my girl, again!"

"Judo?! You're Japanese, dude!"

"Mark! I play soccer! You don't fight people in soccer!"

You pinch his hip, "you got a red card a few games ago for tackling too much."

"That doesn't count, baby girl."

(gasp! gyeomsweetgyeom called it soccer!)

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