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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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xi-vz · 6 months ago

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Shen Yuan stared up at the man, disbelief clear on his face.

The man before him huffed a laugh, brown eyes becoming crescent shaped with amusement. He was a little taller than Shen Yuan, a little broader, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm to his wrist. His dark brown hair was softly curled, more wavy, and a little shaggy, falling to his shoulders. His face reminding Shen Yuan of Binghe. Not a lot, but just enough if he were to tilt his head and squint.

“You’re just a kid.” When the man finally spoke his voice was as smooth as velvet. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Shen Yuan automatically responded as he gawked.

The man had round wire glasses, a piercing on the left side of his lower lip, both ears were pierced, and he had cheekbones that belonged on a magazine cover. He was a little older than Shen Yuan expected. Somewhere in his late-twenties compared to Shen Yuans late teens.

“Cucumber-Bro, come on, I’m not that different.” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky offered a smile, showing off dimples underneath a days worth of scruff.

“How old are you?” Shen Yuan demanded, still blocking the doorway into the dorm.

“Thirty.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan asked aloud.

Seriously, this was the caffeine addicted crack-writer?!

When Shen Yuan had woken up back in his dorm room instead of in bed with his husband in the bamboo house, he immediately contacted Airplane—it was a gamble, but it paid off. The relief Shen Yuan felt when Airplane responded was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He gave the other man his phone number and address, then waited an excruciating five days until the two could meet. (Because Shen Yuan lived in Beijing, but Airplane apparently lived in Chengdu, and last minute flights weren’t cheap.)

Shen Yuan knew that his friend would look different. Hell, Shen Yuan looked different! A little shorter, a little rounder, way younger. With pitch black eyes, short inky black hair, and an ear piercing. He was pretty rather than handsome, softer than Shen Qingqiu.

And it wasn’t that Shang Qinghua wasn’t handsome—he was! Like everyone else in PIDW. But Airplane?

“Can I come in?” Airplane asked while shoving his hands into his back pockets. He wasn’t dressed fashionably. His beat up backpack was slung carelessly over a shoulder, jeans were ripped due to wear and tear, his faded band shirt was due to too many washes, his sneakers were scuffed. And yet…

Shen Yuan dressed in the latest fashion. He tried his best to look good, he had standards for himself! He looked like a C-Pop star.

Airplane wasn’t even trying to be hot. (WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!)

It shook something inside of Shen Yuan. All of his past theories of Airplane being a troll flew out the window.

“Well?” Airplane looked like he wasn’t above shoving past his friend to get in.

Shen Yuan allowed his friend inside, still shook.

“Shang Qinghua.”

“What?”

“My name, bro.”

“Wait…you used your actual name for the character closest to Mobei!? Fucking Mary-Sue!”

“Ah, there we go, there’s the Peerless Cucumber I know. Although it’s weird to hear such vitriol from a face so cute.”

Shen Yuan felt the blood rush to his face and wished he had a fan in his hands to use as a weapon when Airplane chuckled.

“Come on, let’s try to figure out how to get back home,” Shang Qinghua said as he moseyed to the desk in the room.

Shen Yuan sighed as he closed and locked the door.

BONUS:

SY: I thought you said you were a broke university student who wrote to make sure food was on the table.

SQH: Yeah, dude. I’m working on my dissertation. Writing pays the bills.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES?????

SQH: Yeah, in Topology.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES IN MATHS?????

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youthguk · 3 months ago

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Parasocial | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, best friends with benefits, a little bit toxic, jungkook and reader are a little messy and ruin life’s of people around them

words: 2,3k

summary: Everyone in your circle knew that where there was you, Jungkook wasn't far behind. It was just your natural state of being - together. Your relationship had this beautiful, messy way of coloring outside the lines of typical friendship. But somewhere between algebra homework and growing pains, his protective streak went from "adorably concerned" to "intensely involved in literally everything."

"You're being dramatic," you sighed, feeling the weight of another argument settling on your shoulders.

"The cake should be brought out by someone who is the closest," Ren huffed, his voice dripping with barely concealed venom. "Not just some... friend."

Your birthday evening had started like a scene from a dream - a cherished midnight surprise from Jungkook (your ride-or-die since the awkward days of braces and bad haircuts), heartfelt wishes from your uni squad, and what should have been a perfect dinner surrounded by your favorite humans.

But of course, Ren had to be that guy. The one who couldn't wrap his head around the radical concept that guys and girls could actually be friends without ulterior motives. Revolutionary, right?

And yeah, okay, maybe you'd spent years defending your friendship with Jungkook like it was your dissertation. Maybe you'd drawn lines in the sand that said "this friendship isn't negotiable." But here's the tea - maybe, just maybe, Ren wasn't totally off base with his jealousy.

There were... reasons. Complicated, messy, beautiful reasons why your friendship with Jungkook was slightly more than your average childhood bestie situation.

Reason #1: Lose of virginity

"This is a bad idea," Jungkook loomed over you, blocking your path. His gaze was dark, almost threatening.

"Why?" you whined, genuinely confused. "Eric and I have been dating for six months now, everyone else had their first time at sixteen, and I'm literally the only seventeen-year-old virgin in our friend group!"

You bit your lower lip in frustration, wondering why you were even discussing your potential first time with Jungkook of all people.

But that's just how your friendship had always been - joined at the hip, consulting each other on every little decision. You'd even helped him pick out protection for his sixteenth birthday when he decided Sarah from the neighboring school would be the one. Of course, this was only after your thorough background check on Sarah's credentials.

Everyone in your circle knew that where there was you, Jungkook wasn't far behind. It was just your natural state of being - together.

And honestly? You lived for it - having someone who knew you better than you knew yourself, who loved you fiercely, looked out for you relentlessly, and accepted every messy inch of who you were... that was the real definition of blessed.

He always said you two were like parts of a whole - if one missed something, the other would catch it. Your relationship had this beautiful, messy way of coloring outside the lines of typical friendship. But somewhere between algebra homework and growing pains, his protective streak went from "adorably concerned" to "intensely involved in literally everything."

Take your first kiss, for instance. There you were, thirteen and dreamy-eyed about Matt from Bio class, when Jungkook swooped in with his "I can't let your first kiss be terrible" campaign. And you? Sweet, trusting you? You bought it hook, line, and sinker.

"These moments stay with you forever," he'd insisted, eyes burning with something you couldn't quite name. "What if he's awful and ruins kissing for you forever?"

So there you were, letting your best friend cradle your face like you were made of porcelain, his lips soft against yours. And because Jungkook never did anything halfway, it wasn't just a peck - oh no. He kissed you like he was teaching you a language only he knew, and god help you, you were fluent by the end.

You floated on cloud nine afterward, convinced everyone must kiss like that. (Narrator voice: They did not.)

"You've already had sex," you challenged now, hands on hips, chin tilted in defiance as you tried to make your point.

His eyes traveled over you like a caress—taking in the way your black dress hugged every curve, how it whispered secrets about your waist, how the neckline played peek-a-boo with your cleavage. His gaze dropped to your stockinged legs, and something in the air shifted, grew heavier.

In truth, those stockings weren’t just a fashion statement—they were a secret pact between you and Jungkook, a whispered promise of wild desire. You both knew they ignited something raw in him, and if he got excited, then so would every other man who caught sight.

“So you’re doing this just to spite me?” he teased, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he licked his lower lip with playful intent.

“What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind? Snap out of it,” you shot back, dramatically snapping your fingers right before his eyes. “Did you bring what I asked for?”

A self-assured grin curved his lips as Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced a gleaming condom wrapper. Today was too significant to be marred by embarrassment—too important a day for you to be caught buying them yourself or relying on Eric to even remember. When you asked Jungkook to buy it for you, his response had been effortlessly clear: “Consider it done.”

You knew Jungkook grasped everything when you asked that favor, even though you knew how much he couldn’t stand Eric.

Eric was nothing special. You might have ignored him otherwise, but among all the boys at school, he was the only one bold enough to make a move on you, while everyone else cowered, intimidated by Jungkook’s very presence.

Reaching out for the coveted wrapper, your hand barely brushed the air before Jungkook pulled it just out of reach. Frowning, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t be childish,” you chided. This wasn’t the time for games on such an important day.

“With all due respect, I’m not a child anymore,” he grinned, the mischief dancing in his eyes. “Let me help you,” he said, teasingly waving the condom before you.

Incredulous laughter bubbled from you. “This isn’t funny, Jungkook,” you warned, making yet another feeble attempt to grab the wrapper as he deftly dodged, slipping further into your room like a shadow.

A heavy exhale marked your moment alone as you closed the door behind him—a familiar habit in moments like these.

“I’m not joking,” he murmured with unexpected seriousness, his hand gripping your waist with the firm tenderness of someone who knew your secrets. Guiding you onto your desk, he sat you down as your heart pounded in equal measure to your rising anticipation. Slowly, he eased your legs apart, positioning himself precisely between them.

“What are you doing, Jungkook?” you asked, your voice laced with disapproving wonder even as your heart thundered. An unfamiliar ache began to bloom between your legs, a desire both new and unwelcome in its intensity. What was it about him, simply standing there, that set your body ablaze? Damn.

In a hushed whisper, he replied, “I’m your best friend.” Leaning in closer, his presence made you arch your back, compelling you to lean into his tender gravity. You bit your lower lip in silent acknowledgment. He truly knew you better than anyone. “No one ever understands you like I do,” he murmured, his tongue etching a tantalizing, wet trail from your collarbone to your earlobe.

Your hips responded before your mind could catch up, arching in invitation as you yearned to feel him even closer. What was happening to you? Why did your body betray you with such raw, unbridled passion? Your pulse quickened, each beat echoing the promise of more—so much more.

“Jungkook, this isn’t right,” you murmured as you closed your eyes, throwing your head back to grant him more of your soft, exposed neck for his kisses.

“But the first time has to be unforgettable—a memory that lasts a lifetime,” he insisted, his strong hand tightening around your waist to pull you closer. As his arousal spoke its own language, you couldn’t help but notice the growing evidence of his desire, intensifying the ache that pulsed beneath you. “I won’t let that pathetic jerk spoil what should be your perfect moment.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, you opened your eyes, biting your lower lip to hide the undeniable excitement coursing through you. Jungkook, with a mix of care and audacity, lifted you and laid you gently on the bed. You watched your chest rise and fall in rapid, fervent rhythm as he stood over you, a vision of raw, impossible beauty.

He had always been attractive, undeniably so - every girl at school secretly wishing for just a taste of his world. You learned to duck your eyes back then, knowing one look in those mesmerizing orbs could unravel you completely. And now, with a slow, deliberately teasing reveal, he slips off his shirt to expose broad shoulders and chiseled abs that practically whisper seduction. Seriously, the guy is ridiculously gorgeous.

You lean back into the bed’s soft embrace, eyes glued to him as he unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans off until only his boxers remain. The desire radiating from him is almost a silent dare you simply can’t resist.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a cocky grin, edging closer until you can feel the heat rising between you. You gulp, nerves mixing with that undeniable pull. “Are we really gonna do this?” you ask, your voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and raw, undeniable longing.

“Chill, Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs, drawing you deeper into his orbit. “This is gonna be unforgettable, and you’ll never look back. I’m not just passing through—unlike that clueless high school guy.”

His nearly bare body presses you deeper into the mattress as you shift just enough to let him settle perfectly between your thighs. He leans in close and whispers, “I can stop anytime, just say the word,” sending a rush of heat straight to your core. Without hesitation, you loop your leg around his waist, pulling him even closer. His smirk tells you he’s enjoying every moment. “Good girl,” he rasps, eyes sparkling with mischief as his fingers begin to toy with the hem of your dress. You arch your back, eager for the barrier between you to disappear.

“Jungkook…” you moan as he wastes no time moving to your most sensitive spot, his tongue expertly exploring every curve as it nudges your black thong aside. Wild thoughts swirl through your head—friendship lines blurred, jealousy simmering, and an overwhelming craving for more. Who cared if he was your best friend? You tilt your head back, watching him with hungry eyes as your hips squeeze around his head, silently pleading for another taste.

He had everything you needed, and if anyone could deliver it, it was Jungkook.

You breathe out his name, your cheeks burning either from the confession or the heat of the moment.

“Jungkook, I want you… inside me.” Your admission hangs in the air as he keeps lavishing attention on your most sensitive spot, his tongue relentless. “Please…” you whimper.

But with a teasing glint in his eye, he responds, “Not so fast—think you can handle me right off the bat?”

Rising slightly, he hovers above you, and you catch sight of his arousal straining against his boxers. How could you even know if you were ready when everything felt so deliciously wet?

He chuckles, clearly amused by your unabashed stare, then leans in to kiss you, his lips still carrying the remnants of your shared desire. Your tongues tangle in a messy, passionate dance—your first real kiss as an adult. Your fingers dig into his hair like you can’t get enough. Breaking away briefly, he trails a string of kisses down your neck, and you arch into him instinctively. One hand massaged your breast, playfully tugging at your nipple, while his mouth worships the other, licking and nibbling in just the right way. Soft, stuttering moans escape you—damn, he was so good.

You simply can’t hold back any longer. Sensing your impatience, Jungkook lets a hand slip into your panties, teasing you with one finger before inviting a second in. You’re dripping with desire, teetering on the brink.

“Please…” you moan again, lightly tugging at his boxers, marveling at your own newfound boldness.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmurs, his warm breath mingling with yours as he skillfully opens a foil packet with his teeth. You watch, captivated, as he unrolls the condom along his length, and you instinctively spread your legs wider, signaling that you’re all in.

Jungkook slides his body onto yours, aligning himself perfectly with your entrance. “Mine,” he growls with a note of satisfaction, and you nod silently. In that charged moment, nothing else exists—you’re completely his, as if you always have been.

He enters you slowly, each movement smooth and deliberate, and you can hear his soft moan echo your own rising pleasure. Knowing you excite him as much as he excites you fills you with a satisfying warmth. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him in close as his rhythm quickens, filling the room with the wet, symphonic sounds of your passion—a duet of shared moans and intimate moves propelling you both to the edge.

Eventually, Jungkook collapses against your chest, both of you catching your breath in the aftermath. Rather than pulling away, you linger together in those blissful moments. Finally, propping himself up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a teasing glint.

“So, how was that?” he asks, running his thumb over your still-sensitive, swollen lips, inviting your answer.

“Not bad,” you manage a casual reply.

“Little liar,” he chuckles, sitting up, then adds, “But if you ever need a hand—or a friend, you know where to find me.”

Now you were painfully aware that you couldn’t meet Eric’s eyes after this. With Eric, things never went all the way, despite his half-hearted attempts when Jungkook wasn’t around to intervene. You’d always held back—just a touch here, a flirtatious finger there. Sure, there was a twinge of guilt, but with Jungkook, it never felt like cheating; it was him, your Jungkook. And the truth was evident: Eric was a terrible lover, each touch reminding you just how much better Jungkook made you feel.

That night sealed the deal. Far from any awkward afterglow, you and Jungkook grew even closer—if that was even possible. Hugging, cheek kisses, having him casually plop on your lap during movie nights, or simply cuddling in bed became your new normal. It drove Eric mad, as any boyfriend in his position would be. You broke up with Eric right after graduation, that summer before heading off to university with Jungkook by your side. A bold new life was on the horizon, and you stepped into it together, united by your little, delicious secret.

part 2

🖤

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook ff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you

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clockwayswrites · 10 months ago

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Birb in a box Part 14

masterpost

By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.

Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.

Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)

A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.

The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.

Which was odd.

Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?

“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”

Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.

“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”

Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”

“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.

“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.

His son ignored him.

“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”

“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.

“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”

“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”

“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”

“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”

“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”

Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”

“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.

Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”

Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”

“Not good at that?” Dick asked.

He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.

“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”

“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”

“No kidding,” Dick said.

Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”

Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”

“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”

Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.

Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.

“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.

Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”

“A very nice way to look at it. I—”

“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.

Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.

“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”

“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.

“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”

“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.

“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”

“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.

Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.

---

AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #danny x bruce #birdritch

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sweetheartspence · 2 months ago

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౨ৎ booked & busy - s.r. ౨ৎ

you doze off while studying for finals. spencer is there to take care of you.

pairing: spencer reid x grad student!reader genre: fluff content: established relationship, gn!reader, reader is not taking care of themself, spencer uses pet names, tooth rotting fluff wc: 818 a/n: currently suffering through finals and cannot get my brain to focus. so this itty bitty blurb is the product. i wish i had a spencer to make sure i took care of myself. requests/asks are open! my masterlist!!

Your eyes are starting to blur after reading the same sentence for the fourth time, making no more sense out of it than you had the first three times. You're sitting cross legged on the couch, surrounded by papers, articles on the topic you're writing a dissertation on. God, this is your passion, but sometimes you wish you had picked something a little bit easier.

You scrub your hand over your face, sighing and knocking your glasses askew. There's too many big words, and you haven't gotten nearly enough sleep to process all of them. You've been so busy drafting this paper that you haven't been sleeping properly, and Spencer hasn't been around to make you. You chew absently on your thumbnail, shuffling a stack of papers around, trying to find a specific one. Had it even been in that stack? Did you completely imagine that quote?

You sigh again, setting your highlighter to the side. The words are swimming behind your eyelids, becoming little blobs on the page. You're honestly not even convinced they are words. Maybe this author is just making words up, and gaslighting you into believing they're real because of their credentials and the fact that it's been nearly a week since you've gotten a proper rest.

Maybe if you just close your eyes for a moment, you could get them to focus...

---

Spencer is headed back to your shared apartment. He's just gotten home from a long case across the country, lasting nearly a week and a half, and hadn't let you know that he was coming home. He was intending on surprising you, but when he walks in, he finds you fast asleep on the couch, your head tilted back, your mouth slightly open.

Spencer's heart nearly melts in his chest. God, did you have to be so cute? He wonders for a brief moment why you're not sleeping in your bed, but clocks the articles spread out over your lap and the couch. He smiles, and makes his way over to the couch, careful not to disturb you.

Spencer gathers up the papers, stacking them neatly and setting them aside on the coffee table. He gathers you carefully into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, and carries you off to bed.

---

You wake up horribly disoriented. When did you climb into your bed? You blink slowly, reaching up to rub at your eyes. And your glasses are off...

You sit up, looking around the room, blinking blearily, and you see a man sitting on the other side of the bed. He's reading, his fingers skimming along the pages, his lips pursed in concentration. He looks over at you as you sit up, his dark curls falling into his eyes, and immediately his features soften. "Hi, baby," Spencer says fondly, reaching out for you. He wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you to him, closing the book and setting it carefully on the nightstand. The tips of his fingers slide underneath the material of your shirt, tracing along sensitive skin.

"Hi," you say breathlessly, surprised to see him. "You're... home."

"Try not to sound so excited," Spencer smiles, tucking a stray piece of your hair out of your face. This is his favorite way to see you- soft, sleepy, a little lost, and all his.

"I'm- I was studying, and now I'm in bed," you tell him, your eyes widening almost comically. "Christ, I need to finish that chapter of my dissertation, I have pages due this weekend, and-"

"Sweetheart," Spencer interrupts gently. "You need to sleep. You can't do anything while you're this tired. You'll end up having to rewrite the pages anyway, and that's just going to make more work for yourself."

You bite your lip, considering this for a moment. You know he's right, you're too tired to really focus, and the bed is warm and inviting. Spencer is looking at you with those soft eyes, the expression he saves just for you, and you suddenly can't find it in yourself to move away from him.

"Okay," you whisper, tucking your nose into the soft hollow under his jaw. It fits perfectly into the spot, like it was made for you.

"Okay," Spencer repeats softly, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Go to sleep, darling. I'll be here when you wake up, and I'll make you tea, and we can figure out a work schedule for you to get your pages done."

You sigh, nuzzling further into his neck, hiking a leg up to drape it around his thigh. "You're too good to me, you know."

"Just giving you what you deserve," Spencer murmurs, running a gentle hand through your hair. "Go to sleep."

You fall asleep like that, tangled up in one another, the smell of him surrounding you. Old books, rain, and a hint of lemon.

It's the best sleep you've gotten in weeks.

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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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wolvisms · 2 months ago

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ok idk how i’m gonna get this dissertation done

life is hitting me like an actual BRICK

#guys i logged back in to sad im mad.#say*#and really sad actually #i have only 2 friends from uni and i’ve been really struggling with this dissertation for months. i keep asking them for help #one of them would help but the other one would ignore my messages constantly. i’m talking she NEVER replied but she wasn’t busy #she’d always be posting and stuff and i was just thinking ????? i’m asking for help like hello???#bc genuinely i’d drop anything to help my friends!! if they need help i help to my best ability i swear #so a couple months ago she said she hadn’t started it right. and then she kept ignoring my messages #so i assumed she was procrastinating (like me). so then we went to uni like 2 weeks ago #i saw afterwards that she was already 7k words in…? AND YOU COULDNT EVEN REPLY TO ONE QUESTION I HAD?#then she tells me ‘once i’m done my dads gonna check it bc he’s a uni professor and he marks dissertations’#EXCUUUSEEEE MEEEE???????? bro #later on her story she posted ‘my dad’s finishing off my dissertation for me😭’ ……. AND YOU COULDNT HELP A FRIEND???? omg #guys like i don’t think you get it. that’s so so rude. bc she’s supposed to be a close friend as well #and it makes me sad bc i don’t rlly have many friends anymore. i used to get into so much drama in my teen years and i fully stopped that #and now i’m so picky with who i keep in my circle. and due to that i have been rlly struggling making friends LOL. but idrc ab that #what i’m upset at is the fact that she could never help me. not even once. and it’s been like 3 months #meanwhile she HAS been asking me questions. in fact she’s been calling me to ask so i have no chance but to respond.#choice*#whilst i’ve been texting to be a bit more considerate and let reply in her own time?#and i KNOW she’s calling me on purpose. as in she knows she’s been ignoring me so she prob thinks i’ll ignore her messages too #but ngl i wouldn’t. i’m not rlly like that #but this whole thing just makes me kinda sad tbh. cos now i just feel like i honestly don’t have friends anywhere. and i feel rlly lonely #i just feel lonely i always feel lonely #i hate to be that girl but my only friend is my bf fr😭💀 sigh #i’ve always craved fulfilling fem friendships but i have never ever experienced one #anyways it was due on the 16th. i got an extension tho so im praying i get it done by the new deadline which is the 23rd!#wish me luck #logging back off🫡#briar rambles ☾

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nonbinarywannabepreggo · 7 months ago

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After so many hours of edging to Detrans content, I activelly engaged him into it. Now, when it's just us, he will call me by my actually birth name, wich I hate. He's only to call me on feminine and he's to feminize me. He confessed he gets off from being on a straight relationship and he's considering bimbofying me. He told me I should cum like a girl, by only playin with my pussy and nipples. He will start trying to naturally induce lactation. I will schedule the removal right after I defend my dissertation and get my master's. We agreed no hormones nor condom, and he'll pull out if he doesn't feel like knocking me up. He told me it's easy to pull when he's on top, but when it came to see me riding him, sighing and moaning, he wouldn't pull out if I didn't. He wants this to be an accident. And he doesn't want to be notified when I'm with child. He wants to discover by looking at me and seeing that glow pregnant girls have. The baby bump, the swollen titties. I asked if he wanted to Detrans me. First he said no, then he said maybe, and now I'm letting a real man who's discovering his heterossexuality turn me into his girl. He asked me if I'd fully Detrans for him, and I told him the only thing I asked is for me to always be pregnant, because that's when I'm a woman: conceiving, carrying. All he'd have to do was give me that positive. I'm now his wife and mommy of his children. He will shave my beautiful beard and requested me to wear long nails and keep hair short. I'm to wear a bra at home, and he will buy me feminine underwear. Filling bras, lace panties, he even said I would be truly pretty with a nice wig. I'll gain weight and get even more feminine. He'll turn me into a true woman. And I understand I might actually Detrans if he tells me to. Apparently, he would want me to get a boobjob. I get wet, thinking about coming out as Detrans without even being a woman, just because I want to the world to know I took his cum deep into my unprotected pussy. I wonder if I would still be pretty with all those years of T. This kink is getting me into being a straight breeding bitch and I love the fact that my fiancé got to discover breeding and then never again went for dick. He now mainly see straight porn, and sees me as the girl. I'll keep you guys updated on my forced detrans. I'm an actually fakeboy now, going off of T and BC for the kink (until my owner decides it's for life).

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fastandcarlos · 11 months ago

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Study Hard : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as proud as he is as you near the end of your degree, charles can’t help but worry about the levels you’re pushing yourself to in order to achieve it

The sight that greeted him was far from what Charles expected to see, walking into your apartment Charles was met by you, busying yourself on the sofa with books stacked as far as the eye could see.

“Have you left that spot all day?” Charles asked, having left you there hours ago.

“I got myself a drink a while ago,” you responded, not tearing your eyes from your book as you carefully read through the page.

A sigh came from George as you found what you were looking for, picking up your laptop and typing away the source. Knowing that you’d only got yourself a drink immediately left Charles concerned, you were working yourself incredibly hard, and despite him continually reminding you to take care of yourself, it seemed as if you were doing anything but.

The end was in sight for you now, but Charles was becoming increasingly concerned that you wouldn’t reach that end if you continued to work yourself as hard as you were doing currently.

Charles sorted himself out, putting his keys away and slipping off his shoes before trying to find a space on the sofa where he could sit.

“Love,” Charles whispered, poking against your arm as your eyes finally glanced across to look at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” you muttered, putting everything down for a moment, even if you didn’t really want to. “How was your day? Did you have a good practice run?”

“It was good,” he weakly smiled, “how’s your day been? You look busy.”

“There’s lots to be getting on with,” you told him, pointing to all your books and paperwork, “but I’ve been getting a few breaks in and making sure that I stop for a while,” you then assured Charles, although he was far from convinced.

“Right,” Charles hummed, his eyes studying you closely as you were itching to return to your laptop. “How about I go and get sorted and then we can do something together?”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you smiled, watching as Charles stood up from where he was sat. “I’ve only got this little bit left to do and then I can put all of this away for a little while.”

Charles rushes to get himself sorted, hurrying down the stairs, hopeful that everything is tidy for you two to hang out. But it is anything but.

You still looked as if you hadn’t moved when Charles came downstairs, you didn’t even notice him reappearing as he stood and watched you, his arms folded in front of his chest as he tried to not let you see just how frustrated he was becoming with you.

Charles gives you a moment, wondering if maybe you need to just finish something, but when you pick up yet another book, his patience seems to run out with you.

“Come on, time to stop with this for a while,” Charles encourages, going to pick something up.

You leap across and snatch it from Charles, placing the paper back in its rightful stop. “You can’t just move these things Charles, they’re important.”

“I’m well aware of how important this degree is to you love, but aren’t I important too?” Charles questioned, throwing his arms up in frustration.

You stop what you’re doing, placing everything down as your hands run over the top of your head. You’d been working incredibly hard, some would argue a little too hard, and perhaps Charles had a point that you were beginning to forget about the man who always took such good care of you.

As you remain silent, Charles moves closer to you, worried that he’s ended up upsetting you more than he intended. “Why don’t we put this away for the night?”

Your head shook back at Charles, “I’ve still got so much to do.”

“Really?”

“I’m still lacking in sources for this to be a credible dissertation, I’m so far off the word count it’s embarrassing, and I’ve not even proofread any of what I wrote today,” you began to explain to him. “There’s only a few weeks left and if I don’t start pulling my finger out to get this done then there’s no way I’m going to get my degree, and if I don’t get my degree, I can’t get the job, and then who knows what I’ll do?” You fret, rambling away to Charles as you let your concerns get the better of you. “I don’t mean to do all of this and leave us doing nothing but if I don’t get on then I’m just going to end up further behind everyone else Charles.” He reached across and took a hold of your hand before he could let you rant any further, sensing that you were beginning to get yourself overwhelmed.

“Babe, just listen to me,” Charles whispered, pulling you closely into his side. “You’re doing incredibly well, but you’re going to end up sick if you carry on like this.”

“Charles I-”

“No,” Charles continued, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “It’s inspiring seeing how much this means to you, but you’ve still got to make sure that you’re prioritising yourself my love.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted as your voice began to falter, moving even closer into Charles. “Every time I try and relax and stop stressing, I just end up overthinking all the things I still have to do.”

Charles let you vent, he lets you debrief, knowing it’s what’s been bubbling for so long. You’d tried to pretend that you were fine for so long, but Charles knew you much better than that.

“It’s alright,” Charles whispered as he leant back on the sofa with you, moving you away from all of your books.

“I’m exhausted with all this,” you sighed, burying into Charles’ chest.

“I know you are, I know it’s hard,” Charles sympathised, knowing better than anyone how hard you were pushing yourself, “let’s not fret about this anymore tonight.”

“Y-you’re right,” you stuttered, feeling Charles press a kiss against the top of your head, “can I just leave all this here?”

“Let’s head to bed,” Charles suggested, knowing the thought of tidying up all of your mess was enough to potentially tip you over the edge.

You don’t even protest as Charles takes your hand and helps you up from the sofa to wander over to the stairs. You allow him to guide you, your steps lazy and slow as you finally realise just how tired your body is. Everything aches, from your mind to your toes after cramping up on the sofa for most of the afternoon, you’re ready to just shut down from everything that’s been going on.

It takes a moment for you to really allow yourself to forget the work that is scattered around your living room, but Charles doesn’t let you look back for long before walking you up the stairs and straight for your bedroom, knowing it’s the perfect place for you to be.

Once you’re there, you flop down, Charles quickly joining you. He immediately takes on the role of big spoon and brings you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he can to take your mind off of things.

“This is where we should be,” Charles mused as he rested his head on top of yours, “I forgot how nice it was to cuddle up to you, you’ve left me starved of affection for so long.”

Your eyes roll at Charles’ dramatics, something he can tell you’re doing after so long together. Best of all though, Charles could feel you relaxing in his hold which was the only thing that he wanted for you.

“Thank you for always looking out for me, even though I’m a pain,” you whispered back to Charles, “this will all be over soon enough.”

“I just want you to be careful,” Charles reminded you, “I’m beyond proud of you, but I don’t want to see all your hard work see you hurt yourself too.”

“I promise that I’ll take better care of myself.”

“And I’ll make sure that I’m right there with you to take care of you too babe.”

“What would I do without you?” You chuckled as your eyes began to close.

Charles went to reply but soon noticed you settling down, deciding to fall silent and finally let you get some well-deserved sleep, with Charles right there when you woke up.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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