#thank you as always for the brainworms!!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Im actually so hungry for a college au jjk like maybe im a nerd or smth idk but im nostalgic for hallways dorms academic blah blah balh BUT W SOME FINE ASS PPL IN IT TOO GRGRGRGRGRGR like those cute college vlogs w friends WAAAA

Academic geto has me WEAK and like frat gojo 🤧🤧 -🌺

Im very sorry for nonsense yap finals r catching up to me 😛

NO BECAUSE YOU’RE SO REAL FOR THAT 🌺 ANON…… i’m never not thinking abt a jjk college/uni au </3 WITH SUGURU IN PARTICULAR. he would be soooooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫 walking around in sweaters and turtlenecks and overcoats… wearing his pretty glasses…. i’ll die on the hill that he’s a lit student but i could see him majoring in any other kind of liberal arts too. he’d just be so polite and studious and teasing and warm and 😔😔😔

he makes me a little insane i think. anyway YEAH I AGREE….. i’m never not thinking of college sashisu!!! and college childhood friend!sugu…… he fits into that setting so well . just put him on a college campus during autumn and he’ll feel right at home :3

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[eggo-tistical]

Dear Ian, I’m foaming out the mouth STILL (weeks later) after reading an excerpt you wrote about the L-isms Light accidentally catches himself doing after his death.

With credit, could I draw a pic or two of those vignettes? Don’t wanna step on your toes as you’re an (awesome!!) artist and might have plans already in the works re: your own writing!

Anyway, big fan, love your stuff!

Baz

hello baz!

ahh i’m so happy my silly lil writings could stick in your brain like that, light versus his triumph-grief is my bread and butter :)

please go ahead and draw whichever excerpts spark your imagination, i’d love to see the results! you wouldn’t be stepping on my toes at all, i adore your artwork <3

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Oasis why did you put that extra little interaction at the end of Skimble’s number where he often grabs Asparagus’ hand? Why did you do it - I the people need to know

[catboyolli]

the situation with the RV sounds like a nightmare tbh, but it does open a door for some delulu discussion about, say, Olli and Allu both drawing the short straw and ending up with no bed for the night, so they're forced to sort of sit in some corner and cuddle under a blanket to try and make themselves at least a little more comfortable 🥺

hellooooo 💕💘💖💘 honestly yeah, it's fucked up that they had to tour in those conditions, but at the same knowing those fuckers, they would've said stuff like "remember those years back when we weren't famous? and slept seated in a smaller van? we can do this again, it will be worth it if we became known in the US market" or something like that

buuuuut speaking of cuter things, omg yessssss 😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺 i'm gonna bring this one thing for reference and put everything under a read more because there's a lot of text lol

so these are the plans for the RV lol don't ask how I found them but trust the diagonal positioning of the sink 💀

I imagine them sitting opposite each other in that place labeled "dinette" (bottom right space next to the copilot's seats) trying to keep the other awake because they don't wanna fall asleep over the table (Allu has quite the Experience Working Until Late and doesn't want Olli to suffer as he does each morning when he wakes up in his studio)

they cannot talk because there are two other people sleeping in the sofa bed next to them, so they find another way of communicating, either by using whatsapp or through the notes app on their phones

then Allu takes quite the time to reply, maybe because he's remembering one meme that reminded him of Olli but now he can't find it, so when he looks back at Olli he's already asleep while sitting, with his head resting on his hand and that's a big no for him

so in a moment of 'fuck everything' Allu steps over the table and towards where Olli is, sitting next to him and pulling him into a "comfortable" position (where Allu is sitting with his back against the wall, and a sleepy Olli is sitting between Allu's legs) kinda like this?

Olli, of course, doesn't remember anything the next morning, and suddenly finds himself cuddling with Allu under a blanket 🥰💘💖 his heart is racing because this is one of the things he has been thinking about for a while, but he's afraid of waking up Allu and chooses to enjoy the moment to make it last longer

once they are waken up by their bandmates they don't speak about it, Allu too embarassed because he thinks he crossed a line, and Olli too busy remembering how Allu's hands felt wonderful resting on his tummy and how much he wants this to happen again and again and again

maybe someone in the band volunteers to do the soundcheck for them, just so that they can have a little nap and feel well rested before playing that night's show

Olli drags Allu back into the van, making a beeline for the bedroom, and once they're laying in bed he thanks Allu for keeping him comfortable last night, and apologizes for falling asleep 🥺🥺 Allu says that he would like to sleep next to Olli this time, cuddling again, and who is Olli to deny him such a simple request?

when they wake up, a few hours later, the first thing they see is each other and oops, maybe they realize that they have some Feelings for each other, so it's only natural for them to finally lean into a sweet kiss 💖

(or maybe Aleksi asks for a massage because his back hurts like hell and Olli gives him that and so much more, who knows 😏)

and well, for both Olli and Allu, it doesn't matter where they will have to sleep the next night, as long as it's next to each other 🥰💖💘

[silverpsychedelic]

I pray that Nintendo makes your Zoras a reality one day, they are beautiful and have a great origin story, it deserves to be made reality one day. It's just too perfect to waste. Maybe let you voice an important one if it did happen because that would be a great way to give you credit for such a fantastic idea.

Nintendo unveils a new Zora visiting the Domain and they have the most ungodly Australian accent ever

[astronomical-bagel]

Imagine YHS Grian meets TCD scar because I think that both of them were around somewhat the same age right

imagine it

gonna be honest, im not too familiar with scar's TCD series (the only crafting dead series i ever watched was from popularmmos in 2015 XD) but from what i can tell they're both bloodthirsty survivalists so um they would get along like a house on fire or they would hate each other like a house on fire.

[fauvester]

ur art is literally so fantastic and all the lines are so clean and the coloring is so neat.... i love it so much!

NOOOO THANK YEW.... IT MEANS A LOT!!

[joffyworld]

AHHHHHGGGGGGG MY HEART THESE GAYYYSSSS AHHGGG

Okay okay so following on from the anon ask about pet peeves, what's Narinder and Lambert's favourite small traits about each other? The little things, the pet loves or whatever :3

Pet loves xD obv i will try to show everything as the story proggreses but i shall answer with what i have planned.

Narinder loves Lambert's voice and how high it can go when they are caught off guard or spooked. He loves their smile,laugh and how energetic they can get. He loves how fast their face can redden when he gets close to them. He loves how they jump to protect others from danger even though he always tells them to not do that. He loves the calm moments between them where they can just discuss things and he loves that they have never gotten scared of his third eye. He loves their smell and their wool, so much so he can get lost into their hugs.

Lambert loves that Narinder makes them feel like they are the only one that matters sometimes. They love that even though he is a king, he doesnt hurt the common folk and tries to make his people live and die in peace (as much as he can). They love his red eyes that always looks at them maybe a little too much. They love it so much they rip multiple of his veils off of his face. They love the little noises he makes when he wakes up and how strongly he wraps his arms around them. They love it when his stoic facade falls and acts silly. They love it when he gets jealous and acts like nothing bothers him. They love it when his tail wraps around them. They love whenener they touch him, he leans into it completely. They love it when they are out of sight and he keeps looking for them like a lost kitten.

And i love these idiots ❤️

[4giorno]

cyyu was fighting for gay rights and people (he) were killed

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari…… the unrequited love ask :( your takes on nobara and gojo are so good!! And!! I agree so much I think nobara is really similar to teen gojo … maybe that’s why she’s my favourite but. How do you think they would feel if it was the other way around? You realising that they have feelings for u and then distancing urself…. Not because u don’t like them back!! Just because!! Im thinking reader has some sort of intimacy issues in this scenario? Or mayb just feels like they aren’t deserving of their love :((( But yeah,, angst where someone distances themselves my beloved <33 ^_^ I HOPE UR TAKING CARE OF URSELF N DRINKING WATER !! mwah mwah !! — stsg anon 💕💕

STSG ANONNNNNN 🥺🥺 if nobody got me i know you got me ……. i’m so happy you see the vision hehe . and YES YOU GET ITTT noba is my fav too!!!! she’s so lovely :(((((( need to write her a fic soon…. (<- drowning in wips </3)

BUT OKOK . them yearning for a reader with intimacy issues …. oh you know me so well. they both approach the situation very differently, and they’re both very keen on making you feel comfortable above all else :((((( although. well… i think nobara might be a bit more overwhelming to deal with….. i see her as being a lot more direct than gojo, so she’s very likely to just. waltz up to you and ask you what’s wrong 😭😭 and she’s so sincere that you can’t help but answer!! she just wants to make sure she didn’t do anything to upset you…. but of course she didn’t. you’re just. scared. of her feelings. and your feelings. and what it could all lead to… she might not completely understand (i feel like she’s the type who’s all in with her feelings for you once she gets past a stage of denial LMAO), but she’s determined to be there for you!!!!

as for gojo…. he observes you. silently. notes down all your habits and tells. he understands your predicament without you telling him, and allows you to take things at your own pace. he’s not gonna chase you down like nobara; he waits for you to come to him, and if you really aren’t showing any signs of doing so then he makes sure the confrontation feels more like a friendly chat. he tiptoes around the subject until you tell him yourself (with a bit of poking and prodding..) and then he’s just . :) <- kind smile . he understands. he really does. he’s absolutely terrified of intimacy too. he won’t tell you that, but he tells you that there isn’t any rush, and that he doesn’t mind waiting until you’re ready. and he really means it!!!

now…. when it comes to Actually being in a relationship with them…. they’re very similar 😭 they both ease you into the relationship, and both treat you with so much care!!! especially when it comes to showing affection and other things that might feel foreign to you at first. nobara casually links her arm with yours, gojo sneakily intertwines your fingers. and they both ask if you’re okay with it because they prioritize your comfort above all else….. 🥺🥺 though i Also feel like they’re both the type to push you out of your comfort zone a bit. just a little . nobara can’t really help herself sometimes (you give her cuteness aggression and she Needs to kiss you right now or else she’ll die), and gojo is a teacher at heart LMAO. he guides you into everything!! it’s a little infuriating because he’s so good at reassuring you? and it’s like . where did this come from. you were just whining for a bite of my crêpe. 🤨

in conclusion; they both treat you very, very well <3 honestly i feel like these two are the best candidates for a touch starved reader. because they’re both casual with skinship but observant enough to Know what your boundaries are!!! and with their bouts of clinginess it won’t take long for you to get used to their touch lmao .

[heavenbarnes]

Hiii, I just devoured your older bf!simon posts and I got this one brainworm

So, he hasn't figured out how to make albums yet in his gallery, the first time he passed his phone around to let his team gawk at your photos, he had accidentally left one of HIS photo

Imagine the team scrolling through his gallery, drooling at your photo in skimpy outfits, various state of undress then BAM, the hottest dickpic of their L.t. appeared on screen (courtesy of your instructions ofc)

I just think it'll be A Thing™, like, obviously they know Ghost is hot, probably also know how big his dick is, but seeing it presented like that? Some of them definitely moaned. And I bet Simon noticed, probably will start leaving a few of his own photos in between yours, as a treat for the boys.

(Feel free to ignore this if this isn't sth you're comfortable with 🫶🏻)

this is fucking insane i’m going to wet my pants- thank you for this idea you’re a genius 🫶🏼 | effective continuation of this

the 141 would like to enter your older bf!simon’s phone into the museum of natural history for its significant contributions to peace keeping efforts.

if that phone hadn’t been in this safe house, there would be far more destruction in their wake. it goes without saying, really.

what you will say is, whilst his phone is the metaphor- it’s really you that’s giving the opposition time to breathe (limited, their time will eventually come)

the dining table was small, when you had four hulking great men around it the thing looked minuscule. room temperature beers in front of them, it’d taken at least three bottles each for the first to speak up.

“c’mon mate, put us out our misery”

obviously their captain would take one for the team and go first, eyes locking with simon. without being able to see his mouth, it was hard to tell but price was pretty sure that was a chuckle (he hoped it was)

a quick rustle as simon shoved his hand in the pocket of his tactical trousers, retrieving the battered android and laying it in the centre of the table.

bated breathe, you could’ve heard a fucking pin drop as they all watched him unlock his phone. one long finger hovering over the camera app before he pressed it, an almost collective sigh of relief emanating through the house.

simon couldn’t and wouldn’t organise his phone, apps always open in the background, unorganised on his home screen, not a fucking photo album in sight.

photos heaped together in the one collective mess. it was very possible to be looking at an old receipt one minute and then the small of your back with cum across it the next.

majority of the photos were you, and not always filthy. simon couldn’t take a photo to save his life but the ones of you always looked breathtaking.

if you asked him, that’s just what you always looked like.

however, the 141 weren’t there for photos of you smiling as you pet a friendly dog. they were there for the kind of photo simon was just about to pull up.

sat on the corner of the bed, photo taken in the long mirror against the wall. thighs spread and one hand playing between them as the other held your phone next to your pouting lips.

gaz was the first to state the obvious.

“jesus christ, mate”

simon didn’t even blink, finger swiping through the next photo.

on the bed on your knees with your chest pressed to the mattress. looking back over your shoulder with a fucked out expression as you practically gave your ass to the camera.

the unmistakable sound of johnny shifting in the seat to his left caught simon, adjusting his cock just out the corner of his eye.

photo after photo, full nude, lingerie, simon’s shirts, just the bed sheet. with every one that passed, the beer was soon forgotten about when the buzz they got off you was unmatched.

the sweet glow that seemed to radiate off you filled the otherwise dim place the men had been hold up in. photos beginning to blur into one until-

the photo was taken from mid-thigh, simon somehow looked even bigger from this angle. shirt lifted enough to show his scarred stomach but his balaclava stayed on. exposed eyes staring down at the camera as his large hand wrapped around his equally large cock.

dead silence speared straight down the middle by a moan, pathetically covered with a cough. simon pretended not to notice the accent, left the phone in the centre of the table.

nobody could look away, it was physically impossible to tear their eyes off the sight in front of them. had they ever seen one that big in real life?

“fuckin’ell L.T, what’ya doin’ w’all that?”

they all knew simon had a big cock, you could tell by looking at him- the way he walked. if you’d ended up in the showers with him on base and seen it soft you’d even know.

it was unmissable.

but seeing it like this? looming over the camera at this angle, practically eclipsing the natural light, his thick fingers just closing around the base. this was something else.

you were quite the artistic director.

nobody wanted to be the first to say what the other was thinking. allowing the silence to fill the space only broken by the occasional sound of someone adjusting their trousers.

simon didn’t need anything to be said, he knew what he had and he knew the effect it had on- anyone really. he simply sat back in his seat, spreading his thighs wider and ignoring the occasional glance that fell on him when he did it.

finally cutting them loose, simon swiped to the next photo- back to you with cum streaked across your face. throats clearing and murmurs arising from the group.

“that’s real nice”

“would y’look at the fuckin’ state a’that”

“what i wouldn’t give”

simon grunted in agreement, eyes flickering around the table with a feeling invisible growing in his chest. a feeling that he wasn’t used to but didn’t- mind?

he didn’t think too long, he couldn’t think too long.

those photos would just have to become part of the regular.

[rumplereids]

Stop bc I’ve had a little brainworm lately. Hotch’s really young ex wife bringing the kid(s) to Aaron bc he was late for a drop off or something and Spencer absolutely falling for her ⁉️⁉️ it’s been eating me alive (love your work mwah mwah)

part two tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. not really infidelity. p in v smut. a/n: anon, you are crazy. i love that for us. (thank u for reading my work ilysm) i hope u like this, even if it's just short :) requests are open!

He feels like he’s going insane. Scratch that. He’s actually insane.

He’s sequestered himself in the men’s restroom, tugging on his cock, biting the sleeves of his sweater so that he won’t make a noise, all because you smiled at him.

His boss’ wife. His boss’ young ex-wife.

Distinction is important in his line of business.

Spencer would love to blame you for putting him into this predicament, but that would be pointless.

It’s been a week since he last saw you. Since you last dropped Jack off at the BAU. Ever since your divorce with Aaron (the team didn’t even know he was married), you would show up to the office on their slower days to drop Jack off for the weekend.

Spencer doesn’t know much about you, only that you were once Jack’s nanny. You’ve been working for Aaron since Haley, Aaron’s ex-fiancee and Jack’s birth mom, decided that she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet.

Aaron once confided in him. You married Hotch when Jack was barely 3. You’ve always been ‘mom’ to the little boy. Aaron regrets marrying you so hastily.

You were around Spencer’s age. The fights leading up to your divorce started and ended with Aaron’s guilt for holding you back. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to care about your marital disputes since it led to him knowing you.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. White cum making his fingers sticky. Tucking himself back into his pants, he unlocks the bathroom stall with a cough, as if to hide the depravity that just took place. He quickly washes his hands, thrice. And then he leaves the men’s room, nearly running into a body in his haste.

Strong hands steady exposed shoulders. The skin under his warm hands, soft and smooth. It was you. He had just finished touching himself to the thought of you, and here you are now. Served to him on a golden platter.

“Hi, Spencer. I was just on my way out.”

“Did you talk to Hotch?”

You look up at him with a quizzical brow. He gulps down the thoughts looking into your eyes brought to his brain.

“Not really, no. I’m just here to drop Jack off for the weekend.”

He nods, and then you start to leave. He hesitates for a while, begging for the words to leave his tongue on their own. You beat him to the punch.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free this weekend?”

You fill his hands so perfectly. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts. Everywhere he cups and squeezes, as his hips smack thunderously against the flesh of your arse. You have your cheek pressed onto the mattress, taking everything that Spencer gave you. His cum, his sighs, his praise. The way he moans and mumbles your name like a prayer.

He’s your ex-husband’s co-worker. You swear you’ve read a cheesy erotica of this plot somewhere.

But that didn’t stop you from pulling him into your bedroom. Practiced hands undoing his dark blue tie. His longer fingers lifting the skirt of your sundress.

“You’re so good. You fuck me so good,” you can’t help but moan.

Spencer’s hand runs up and down your back, taking your hair and tightening a fist against your nape.

“You take me so well,” his following praise gets cut off by your phone ringing. Spencer slows his thrusts, hips moving until you’ve taken him to the base, and he continues his ministrations in tiny grinds of his pelvic bone against your clit. Your mind goes hazy at each tantalizing grind of his hips.

Your phone continues to ring. You blindly stretch out an arm to grab for it. Without looking at the caller ID, you answer the call. “Hello?”

Spencer watches from above you, watches you move your cheek and tilt your head so that you can make eye contact.

“Aaron?” you say with an almost whimper.

Spencer continues the grind of his hips against your wet and throbbing clit.

“Yeah, I can get Jack. Twenty minutes?”

Spencer almost hisses at the thought of the inevitable.

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

You hang up the call. Before the phone lands on your pillow, Spencer grabs you by the hips and maneuvers you to lay on your back, all while keeping his cock firmly inside you.

“We have to stop,” you say. “I think you have a new case.”

And then, his phone rings.

He puts two fingers into your mouth while he picks up the call with his other hand.

“This is Reid.”

“Reid? We have a case. A string of homicides in Atlanta.”

He hums, watching you slobber over his fingers.

“Reid?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Y/N with you?”

Spencer feels the way your pussy clenches around him.

“Yeah,” he admits.

Hotch is quiet on the other side of the line.

“Don’t be late. We leave in an hour.”

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀SKATER.ᐟMATT × RICH.ᐟREADER

RICH.ᐟREADER ,, cheetah print. takes no shit. expensive taste. silver jewelry. fur, fur, fur. lip gloss. megan thee stallion coded. always got a sassy comment. knows all the drama. still sheltered despite everything. bad bitch.

SKATER.ᐟMATT ,, beanies. backwards caps. baggy everything. cuts and bruises from skating. never not wearing rings. scratches your initials on the back of one of his boards. dominic fike coded. snarky & sarcastic.

NOTES ,, thank u to bae @lovesickgrlsrh0t for planting these brainworms in my head i fear these two are my literal faves atm </3 also the triplets hit 7m n im so proud of them 😞💓 MDNI thank u

YOU'D KNOWN OF MATT BECAUSE OF A MUTUAL FRIEND. the friend was someone you'd gotten to know at a party, not exactly in your crowd, but the party was one with various people who dabbled in various things. you liked the friend, yeah, and they talked about a friend of theirs called matt, often. a skater, like.. one of those types to get caught trespassing on private property whilst hanging out, or something. not the type to attend nice galas and drink the finest wines in fancy ass outfits.

so you hadn't really cared about him, no. he was just a guy you knew of. and to matt, you were just some stuck-up socialite who he'd happened to go to school with since kindergarten. he didn't hate you, no, but like.. he wasn't exactly fond of you. he wasn't into the whole high life you associated yourself with. so it was obvious: the two of you were total opposites and wouldn't interact ever. especially since it was senior year, why would you in the first place?

turns out, it was actually quite simple. you'd been skipping class, as per usual, but had gotten caught this time. matt hadn't completed his coursework. now? detention, for the both of you. you'd most definitely considered skipping detention, since you had other engagements to attend, but you knew your parents wouldn't let you attend any other engagments for the rest of your senior year if you did. you're very clearly upset about detention, a pout adorning your glossy lips, your eyes fluttering around with not an ounce of enthusiasm.

it was just you and matt, you quickly realise. you stare at him for a minute, eyes narrowing. this catches his attention, and he cocks a brow as he glances up at you, "you get detention for havin' a starin' problem or what?" he's blunt, almost dead pan, rolling his eyes at the sight of you just.. staring at him. this makes your brow furrow, "that ain't no way to treat someone you've never talked to before, is it? jeez." you scoff under your breath, folding your arms over your chest. not wanting to act all petulant infront of the.. barely even a teacher, it's some substitute.

matt's quiet as he watches you sit down, the way you sit a far bit away as if being next to him will degrade the expensive material of your outfit. a scoff escapes him, in a similar fashion to your own, and he shakes his head, glancing away. you have this tendency to.. well, not shut up, so you start whining under your breath about how you were supposed to be at some gala, mingling with other stuffy, rich people but you were here. with him.

matt's just watching you, completely baffled and amused by you. it was absolutely so shallow of you and pretty vapid, ut he found himself a little intrigued. his eyes liked what he was seeing, you're pretty, super pretty. you dress like you know it too. "uh," he starts, "you didn't ask for my two cents on the whole.. gala thing, and i know i ain't the type to even be goin' anywhere near those things, but—could always pay someone to go for you. you got the money, don't you?" that causes a silence to settle over you, and you're quiet for a minute.

but then you burst out laughing, a sound that matt knows he wants to hear more of. he tries to hide a small smile, but then you're switching up on him the instant you realise you're laughing at something he'd said. "i got the money, but i ain't payin' someone to enjoy the time i was going to. defeats the whole purpose, dumbass." the smile switching to a glare damn near gave him whiplash. his brow furrows once more, and he raises his hands in surrender.

"shit, okay, okay, keep whinin' then," god, he didn't understand you, not at all. you were something, alright. "..'n' who're you callin' a dumbass?" he mumbles under his breath, sighing as he glanced back at the ceiling once more. giving you a quick glare, in return, that ends your conversation quite abruptly. but both of you are intrigued by eachother, clearly.

"you look so out of place here, kid," matt can't help but laugh at you. the said mutual friend from before had invited you to some party at some random guy's house. a birthday party, or some shit. a total lapse of judgement on your part, you knew, and you'd literally snuck out of your parent's place to be there. why the fuck did you do that for? you looked so out of place, he was right. you're stood there like even touching a single thing'll kill you on the spot.

you glare at him instantly, folding your arms under your chest which instantly draws his attention down to your cleavage. you notice, of course, hating the way a warm feeling bubbles in your stomach from how he looks at you. "don't remember ever askin' for your input," your head tilts, "just 'cause you got a pretty face don't mean you needa' go 'round stickin' your head where it don't belong."

"you think i got a pretty face? how sweet," he sticks his tongue out, a soft smirk gracing his lips. he looks good. dark tufts of hair stick out from beneath his beanie, the colourful lights set up causing a nice sheen to glow down onto his face. you're not crushing on him though—no, no. he's just some skater. he could never give you what you want. "c'mon, relax a little," he says his words soon after his first few just so you don't get a chance to snap at his cocky remark, catching you off guard.

"i don't know anyone here," you mutter under your breath, fiddling with your expensive necklace, once again drawing his attention downwards. he's pretty sure you're doing it on purpose now, honestly, since you keep doing it. those nails.. he's imagining them wrapped around other things, that's for sure. "you know me," his voice is a little gentler, and he nods over to the kitchen where beer pong is set up, "it'll be fun. loosen' you up a lil' bit." you're skeptical for a moment, but you nod, making your way over with him.

he has to say, he's into how quiet you get when you're somewhere out of your comfort zone. you're not as mouthy, or annoying. as much as he loves your banter, the flirty insults between you two, well.. he likes you like this. "you've never played beer pong?" matt's literally gasping, staring at you like you're insane.

your face scrunches up at that, "well, yeah. no one's playin' beer pong at a party where they serve scotch—" you shake your head, sighing. he wanted you to loosen up? you'd loosen up. he gives you a look as if to say chill out, before he laughs quietly when you do, in fact, chill out. "i'll teach you. s'easy." his voice is easy, low. and you notice how close he's stood next to you. "you're a quick learner, m'guessin'."

"sure," you roll your shoulders in a shrug, glancing at the beer pong being set up for another round before you look back at matt. "yeah," you affirm after a minute. matt glances at you with a soft, incredulous look before he shakes his head. "c'mon, i don't bite. neither does the beer. at least, it shouldn't." you're calming down with him already, he likes that a lot too.

you'd had another total lapse of judgement, surprise surprise, having been swayed by the inarguably nice night with matt and his stupid, pretty face into becoming fuck buddies. perhaps not your finest moment, but definitely your most pleasurable. he makes you feel good, so, so good. takes away your stress from all your parents expectations, makes you feel taken care of. you two aren't exactly friends with benefits, more like.. people who know eachother, like acquaintances with benefits. but fuck buddies suits you two better.

it'd started off as getting together once, meeting at another party and giving into the raw attraction between you two. he'd had you beneath him, your legs wrapped tight around his hips as he bucked up into you with a brutal pace. his hands grasped at the bed around your head, a bed in which he had no idea whose it was. hey, he needed you, real bad. the logistics of everything hadn't crossed his mind once. "need you," you'd whined, voice breaking a little with how loudly you'd been crying out his name.

"you're gettin' me, baby," he grunted, grasping at the bed a little tighter as you clenched around him, practically trapping him there. his eyes lift up to yours, a flush covering his face at how damn good you feel. "what d'you want?" he growled, all breathless and heavy, like even speaking took a lot out of him. "need you, ah—after this, too," you couldn't have him just once, that wouldn't be fair. he felt too fucking perfect to only have once.

matt laughs quietly, realising you're on the verge of just babbling from how deep he's fucking you. "shh, sh, i got you," he murmured, lowering his head down to yours to press his lips down against yours to ensure you wouldn't keep talking. between kisses, he whispers, "gonna have me whenever you want, baby. whenever you want." that had you practically squirting, thighs trembling as the movements of his hips stuttered.

he kept up his promise, and whenever you wanted him, you got him. matt didn't want to seem desperate, but he was starting to like you, a lot. those snarky comments and bitchy glares started turning into fond looks and quiet compliments. he wasn't soft on you, he really didn't want to be—but there he was, letting you practically walk all over him in those expensive heels. it wasn't until a certain moment where you realised you felt the same as he did. he fell first, but god damn it, did you fall harder.

matt's buried so deep inside you, all you can think about, all you want to think about is him. he's overwhelming in the best way, having told you to keep your eyes on his or else he wouldn't give you what you wanted. "eyes on me, baby, wanna see those pretty eyes," he murmured, your legs hiked up onto his shoulders as opposed to his hips this time. you two had been in many different positions with eachother, sure, but this? how close he is? how he's balls deep inside your cunt? can't think straight.

you lift your eyes to his, swallowing thickly as another whine rips from your throat. he coos softly, "there you are. there's my girl," his girl? you're his girl? he's being so soft, and loving, nothing like he's been before or you've ever had before. it's making you feel some kind of way and it feels wrong, but so right at the same time. "makin' such pretty sounds, lookin' so lovely like this.. you take my dick so well."

"matt—" you gasp softly, trying to bring yourself as close as possible with a swivel of your hips forward. matt groans, his head falling down into the crook of your neck as he slides his hands down to grasp at your thighs. just the feel of the callouses on his hands from various skating accidents has you squealing and whining beneath him. "so good, shit, oh, oh—right there, riiight there.."

"right there? right there?" matt drives himself deeper within you, whining into your skin. his nose brushes against your soft skin, grunting under his breath with each thrust forward of his hips. "i've got you, c'mon, cum 'round my cock for me, let it go, there she is, that's it.." he's thrusting up into you through your orgasm, holding you as close as possible, and even with the pleasure clouding your brain, you're realising that you're most definitely in love.

maybe it's the slow drag of his cock against your walls, as he takes a slower, steadier approach to pounding you into the bed—maybe it's his sweet words, you don't know, but all of it coming together? you're in love.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7 ִ ꒱

[nezuscribe]

My 3am cozy in bed brainworms today are fuelled by your slytherin!Gojo content 😵‍💫 I would like to thank you for this meal.

Imagining slytherin!Gojo insisting (pretending) that all the other carts on the train are filled to the brim just so he’d have a chance at being alone with you before you arrived at the castle. Him sitting next to you and eyeing you, hoping you fall asleep on his shoulder.

slytherin!Gojo who purposefully makes a scene in a potions class to get your attention back from another student who managed to make you laugh. (He doesn’t even care that Snape’s whacked him upside the head with a book for exploding a bottle)

ofc nonnie :)

and he would for sure do something like that. especially when it's your seventh year, and he's had the summer to mull over the fact that he's wasted six years not doing anything.

so he finds your cart eventually, somewhere in the back, and the only other people in there are some second-year ravenclaws, he insists that everywhere else is full and that his friends sat somewhere else.

he'd probably sit awkwardly facing you, but when other second-years start coming in and want to sit with their friends, he moves, sitting next to you as you awkwardly shuffle around, trying to make some room for his lanky body.

you're not used to sitting next to somebody, let alone gojo satoru, so you try to act normal, reading something from your book or looking out of the window occasionally. he doesn't talk much either, which helps.

but at some point, as you always do, you grow tired, your eyes heavy as you try to keep them open. but you eventually nod off, your head resting on the window. when it proves to be too bumpy you mindlessly move it to the other closest thing, which in your exhausted state fail to realize is gojo's shoulder.

you just go back to sleep, thankfully not nothing that way he goes rigid, not wanting to move a centimeter to wake you up. the entire way to hogwarts he sits as still as humanly possible, casting the occasional look at you, his heart thumping loudly at the way your cheek is smushed against his shoulder.

when you wake up you don't even realize what you have just done, just giving gojo a small nod as you go to get your bags, not noticing the slight flush on his cheeks.

as for the potions part!

because he's so focused on keeping his rank and being at the least corgeal with his teachers, i wouldn't see him breaking something on his own accord. but if the beaker of the guy who was lamely trying to make you laugh somehow randomly exploded, don't check gojo's wand for the last spell he cast!

[070chwe]

from a woman — nicholas a. chavez

summary — nicholas’ favourite part of every event is stripping the weight of the evening at home with you, along with the formal attire. inspired by from a woman by mariah the scientist.

word count — 1.6k

tags/warnings — suggestive towards end, established relationship!au, a load of self indulgent lovesick waffling, nic is a down bad introvert™

a/n — dedicated to my loveliest eternal brainworm buddy @titsout4nicholas because where would i be without u my baby breezy. it’s been like 3 years since i’ve written, let alone published so please be Kind. reblogs are appreciated!

The cacophony of camera shutters, the soft thrum of a slow R&B track, and the hundreds of layered conversations still echo in your ears, lingering like the faintest scent of perfume even now, 20 minutes after leaving the gala. The evening was a whirlwind—one he’s always halfway reluctant to step into. The flash, the glamour, the carefully curated conversations—it all has a way of exhausting him in a way few things do. And yet, it’s unavoidable. A necessary part of his world.

Nicholas has a love-hate relationship with these events, and he knows you do too. You’d much prefer a boozy brunch with his younger brother and his girlfriend or a late-night detour to a hidden, hole-in-the-wall wine bar where the two of you can melt into the anonymity of the darkened corner, away from prying eyes and familiar faces. Galas, premieres, high-profile shows—they rank high on his list of least favorite things about the job, symbols of a lifestyle he tolerates but doesn’t fully belong to. They feel hollow compared to those quiet, intimate moments you share together, where he can simply exist, undisturbed.

The warmth of your hand sliding into the freshly cut hair at his nape, your fingers threading gently through the soft strands, pulls him out of his thoughts, away from the smattering of raindrops trailing down the driver’s side window. Your touch is light, yet possessive, grounding him in a way nothing else can. He leans into it instinctively, eyes fluttering closed for just a moment as he savors the quiet intimacy.

His own hand, as if by reflex, drifts to your thigh, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over the fabric of your dress. The gesture is simple, almost automatic, but it speaks of a familiarity and comfort that words can’t capture. He opens his eyes, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, the rest of the world blurs, leaving only the two of you in this small, rain-kissed cocoon.

Sometimes, the feeling overwhelms him so much that he thinks he may be ill. He hasn’t been able to give it a name because, to him, love just doesn’t quite cover all bases. You represent a degree of normalcy in his life—a fixture for calm among all the chaos. Sharing new music finds over breakfast and drinking overpriced red wine to the tune of Solange. That’s when he’s happiest, when his head is the most quiet.

It’s just past 1 when the sprinter finally pulls to a rest outside the high-rise that houses your shared apartment. The city is a hum of distant lights and sounds, yet here, at this moment, it all fades into background noise.

Nic slides out of the van with a heavy exhale, loosening his tie as he follows you into the dimly lit lobby. His silence only breaks once you’re in the peaceful sanctuary of your apartment. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he says, and you watch as the tension he’s been carrying all evening seems to peel away with his blazer as he drapes it over a chair by the door.

“Of course, my love.” A hint of relief softens his expression as he catches your eye. You flash him a small, tender smile over your shoulder, sweet and familiar, just slightly lopsided where your canine meets the plush of your lower lip. It’s one of the things he’s always adored about you. He can’t help but smile back, his first genuine one of the night, as he follows the click of your heels into the kitchen.

You’re moving gracefully from cabinet to cabinet, pouring two glasses of deep red wine as the quiet of the apartment settles around you. He watches you, entranced by the simplicity of the moment. The familiar rituals—the clinking of glasses, the way you hand him his without a word—ease away the last threads of stress from the evening. “It was really lovely to see Cooper again,” you say, handing him a glass. “I missed him.”

Nic nods, taking a sip of the wine. “I know. I missed him too… but I think I missed this more.” He raises his glass, clinking it softly against yours, his gaze never leaving your face. Here, in the quiet of home, with the world locked outside, he’s finally where he wants to be.

Before long, the two of you are nestled together on the couch, your heels abandoned somewhere near the door and Nic’s tie totally undone around his neck. The soft pulse of a Majid Jordan song drifts through the room, setting a gentle rhythm to the night. The golden glow of the corner lamp casts warm shadows, wrapping around you like a private swaddle. You sit close, faces mere inches apart, sharing laughter and stolen glances as you exchange stories from the evening, each word slipping easily into the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Nic’s hand moves slowly along the length of your bare legs, his touch a soft, languid caress that leaves warmth in its wake. Every so often, his fingers pause to trace gentle shapes on your skin, little loops and spirals that make you shiver. His fingertips linger on the back of your thigh, drawing delicate, invisible I love you’s that you feel more deeply than words could express. Between quiet whispers and playful smiles, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining as his gaze settles on you, warm and intense. He leans in slowly, his lips hovering just above yours, breath mingling in the charged silence. The teasing brush of his mouth is soft at first, a gentle taste, before he presses deeper, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His hand slides up your thigh, anchoring you to him as the kiss deepens, each touch and shared breath stoking the quiet, simmering heat that fills the room, drawing you both into something irresistible, something you don’t want to end.

“I should’ve known the red wine was a setup,” he murmurs with a smirk, barely pulling back as you playfully smack his chest. The laughter you share breaks through the tension, leaving you both grinning as Nic settles back into the couch, his lap open and inviting. You climb onto him, feeling his hands rest comfortably on your waist as you nestle into his embrace, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. Somehow, he makes every intimate moment feel like the first all over again, taking you back to late nights in college bars and stolen moments in his dorm room, where everything felt new and thrilling.

Even now, he still makes you feel giddy, like that young, lovestruck freshman, dreaming of a future with him—a white picket fence, a home filled with laughter, maybe a couple of kids running around. Each touch, each glance brings those dreams rushing back, making you feel as if you’re right back at the beginning, falling for him all over again.

Nic watches you, noticing the way your gaze seems to drift, lost in thought even as your eyes rest on his. A small, knowing smile curves his lips, and he lets out a soft, amused huff before giving his legs a gentle nudge to draw you back.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting, reaching out to pull you closer until you’re nestled comfortably against him, fully present with him once more.

His fingers trail up your back, tracing soft, languid patterns that send shivers through you as you settle deeper against him. His touch is gentle yet intentional, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he brings his forehead to rest against yours, the two of you sharing a breath in the quiet warmth of the room. His gaze meets yours, a familiar smolder that sends heat spreading through you, and the world outside blurs, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with something deliciously dark, “I think we should take this to the bedroom, instead.”

The words sink into the silence, charged with a longing that leaves you breathless. His thumb brushes across your cheek, lingering with a tenderness that contrasts the intensity of his gaze. He leans in slowly, capturing your lips in a deep, unhurried kiss, savoring the closeness, the taste of you. His hand slides up, fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you even closer, the warmth of him seeping through your skin.

You feel a rush of boldness, your hands moving to the buttons of his shirt, deftly unfastening each one until the fabric falls open, revealing the smooth skin and taut muscle beneath. You let your fingers trace along the dips and valleys of his chest, his heartbeat slightly erratic as your nails graze the skin. The feel of him, solid and steady, grounds you even as the intensity between you builds. You part just enough to look at him, taking in the way his chest rises and falls, his breathing as unsteady as yours.

The shared look says it all, an unspoken agreement in the glimmer of his eyes, in the way his hands skim down your sides, leaving trails of sparks in their wake. Without a word, he shifts, adjusting himself so that he can lift you easily, legs coiled around his waist as he carries you through the soft-lit rooms to the familiar, inviting comfort of your bed.

As he lays you down, he pauses, gaze roaming over you with a mix of reverence and desire. His fingers brush down your arm, pausing to intertwine with yours, grounding you in the quiet intensity of the moment. Here, where the moonlight and cityscape filters through the open blinds, there’s no rush, only the anticipation building between you, thick and sweet.

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, each one a promise, a reminder of how much he loves you. And as his lips find yours again, slow and leisurely, you know tonight will be one to remember.