#if you saw this earlier no you did not

[jasmineoolongtea]

― like a rockstar ✧₊⁺

― the ways in which they're like as your rockstar boyfriends

contents: gojo x f!reader, geto x f!reader, choso x f!reader (reader wears a skirt), kinda suggestive tone for them, nicknames are used (baby & love), headcanons/brief drabbles a/n: title is based on like a rockstar by chase atlantic (chase atlantic my loves <333), might do more characters/scenarios with this concept if you guys like it/have any ideas for it, any likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always ♡

thinking about rockstar bf!gojo satoru who always dedicates his sets to you. it's kinda become a tradition for him to start off with a public declaration to you to his crowds of eager fans cheering and chanting his name with all their might.

"this one goes out to my girl out there in the crowd." he says with a devilish smirk, his cerulean eyes landing on you with calculated precision. thousands of eyes follow his outstretched finger that's pointing to you, most of them probably burning with jealousy from his fangirls, but you could care less about them when all you're focused on is him.

basking in the bright glow of the spotlights, there's no other way to say this except for the fact that he looks devastatingly handsome in his white tee and silver necklace with your initial on it and how it clings onto the ripples and reflexes of his toned body. you have a matching one, of course, a shiny letter 's' that clings to your neck, he gifted it to you before going on stage a few shows ago. "now everyone can tell we're just for each other." he remarks against your lips before crashing his into yours.

you wave at him shyly and blow a kiss in his direction, one he catches with ease before swinging the electric guitar strap around his neck. he sends a nod to his bandmates, signalling for them to start before taking centre stage again as he leans into the microphone.

"all these songs are just for you, baby."

thinking about rockstar bf!geto suguru who insists on getting a kiss from you before he goes on stage. "it's a good luck charm love, trust me." he asserts, taking your hands in his with the cold silver of his rings making you shiver slightly.

you're wearing that lipstick that he likes, the dark red one that looks so good when it's smudged and ruined from his own lips. he brings his thumb up to your bottom lip, running it slowly across the satiny finish in the way that makes your breath stop momentarily.

"where do you want it sugu?" you'll ask, as you always do, fluttering your eyelashes innocently and looking up at him with your doe eyes.

"anywhere you want, love." he whispers in your ear, the smooth timbre of his voice sending tingles down your spine. there's a fire lit within you, and a mischievous grin graces your features.

that's how he ends up going on stage with red lipstick on his lips and on the side of his neck. rumours were definitely going to swirl around this but that was the least of his worries when he spots you off on the side, donning his leather jacket with pride.

now you two are matching and wearing something of the other, him with your lipstick boldly marking him as yours and you in his leather jacket that smells just like him. he doesn't tell anyone but for you, he pulls out all of his tricks in his set tonight.

thinking about rockstar bf!kamo choso who makes sure you get front-row seats to whatever he does. doesn't matter where or when, no matter how inconvenient it might be, for choso, when there's a will, there's a way.

you knew that about him but that doesn't mean you were expecting him to pull you onto his lap during one of the band's practice sessions when he saw that all the other seats were unavailable. you feebly try to push him off as you insist that you'll find another seat somewhere else, your cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment as you do.

"but baby, i need you close to me." he'll say as he pouts at you, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your back. his bandmates don't even blink an eye at his antics, already used to how attached their drummer is whenever it comes to you.

you sigh to yourself, your hands cupping his cheeks as you look into his eyes, a lovesick expression painted on his face. "you promise me that this won't interrupt your practice?" you ask as you feel one of his hands leave your waist and absentmindedly start to wander up your thigh towards the edge of your skirt.

he nods fervently, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as a sign of confirmation. you're sure that the only reason that he isn't diving into your lips like a starved man as he usually does is because he's not in the mood to have an audience, in the form of the rest of the band, for it. you readjust yourself on his lap, making sure that you're situated in a better position with your back flushed against his toned torso as he rests his chin upon your shoulder.

his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers to you. "i'll play even better 'cause you're here."

[xoxosimp]

20 Minutes Left

Pairing : Mike Zacharias x Reader

Synopsis: Doing your laundry at 2 am never felt so rewarding. 

A/N : This fic is for @chaotic-nick One Night Stand Collab! This was beta read but I did not proofread this LOL.

CW: car sex, unprotected sex( wrap it before you tap), size kink if you squint, fast paced

There was a certain type of peace when you did your laundry at 2am. 

There were no children running around the laundromat or elderly ladies trying to make conversation. It was just you and the machine swishing your laundry. 

“What is an angel like you doing up so late?”, a new voice chimed. 

You turned your head to the most handsome man your town has ever seen. Mike Zacharias. He had beautiful emerald eyes with disheveled blonde hair. His huge arms filled with beautiful geometric patterns made of ink 

This man was panty-dropping, drop dead gorgeous.

“I’m doing my taxes,” you said dryly. 

“ May I sit  while you do these taxes ,angel?” something twinkled in his eyes when he noticed you were staring for a second too long.

Gosh, his voice was rich and deep. He made sure to enunciate every letter, every syllable of his pet name for you. Like he’s tasting it. 

You gestured toward the empty chair next to you. “What are you doing up this late, Mike? You don’t have any laundry with you.” 

He took a seat. “ I was nearby meeting with a friend when I saw you through the window. And I will say angel, I like what I’m seeing.”

His eyes are doing that again. They take in your body, no doubt appreciating your work uniform that left little to the imagination. You wore a crop top and fishnets under your denim shorts that ended right where they needed to. 

“ I’m pretty sure I’ll be wearing less come next week,” you rolled your eyes.

“How so, angel?, ” he questioned. 

“Apparently someone bought the bar I work at. Probably some middle aged loser who wants to turn it into a strip club.”

“ Aren’t you judgmental, angel?” He teases.

“I’m not being judgemental, It’s a prediction,” You state matter of factly. 

He chuckles, and gosh you think your pussy fluttered around nothing. Everything about this man was heavenly, it was sinful.  

Then he gave you that look. Those eyes that conveyed he knew every single dirty thought running through your mind. That grin that said he wanted to fulfill every single dirty thought. 

“ You have 20 minutes left of your cycle,angel,” he pointed out. 

“ And?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“Can’t just have you sitting here, angel, when you could be doing something much more productive.”

–

“Take it all, angel,” he huffed, “be a good girl.”

In a matter of minutes both of your clothes were discarded and thrown in the back of Mike’s car. It was like he planned this, since he was conveniently parked in the darkest corner of the laundromat parking lot. 

“Take it all, angel,” he huffed, “be a good girl.”

Gosh, you thought you were taking him. You don't dare look down at your tiny cunt trying to take his length. You take a deep breath and slow inch down on his dick. Your cunt was spasming on him. You held his shoulders so hard it would leave bruises. 

Mike clenched his stomach in an effort not to finish so soon. You were barely inside him yet the silkyness and heat of your pussy was overwhelming him.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he groaned, “ Take all of me.” 

You sink down slowly, until finally- he bottoms out.

You’re so deep in your haze of arousal to truly understand how crazy this is. You’re about to ride Mike in his car, in public, where anyone could see you.But, the way you felt him in your stomach, the way his cock kissed your cervix without pain, any sense of rationality went out the window.

Once you adjusted to his size, you slowly grinded on Mike, leaving no space between the both of you so you could grind your clit until his pelvis. His warm hands found purchase on your hips and encouraged you to keep dragging yourself back and forth on his dick.

You lean on your knees and start bouncing on him. He was so deep inside of you, you were sure you were going to feel him even after you finished. Skin slapping skin and your loud moans filled the air as the car shook.

“ Fuck, angel,” Mike groaned. “ Keep bouncing angel, be a good girl.” His praise made your clit throb.Your thighs were burning but you were so close. Your perfect tits in his face. Your head is thrown back in pleasure. You, moaning his name while you rode him.

You were picturesque.

“Mike ‘m close m’ close,” you babbled mindlessly. You, fucked out on his cock. He wants more of this. 

“ Then be a good little angel and cum on my cock,” he commanded softly. “Cum for me, angel.”

The base of your spine was tingling in pleasure. Your high was going to come crashing down, and his words were all you needed.Your cunt clenched down hard on him, squirting on his cock.

Mike didn't stop. Your cunt was spasming in overstimulation as he bucked his hips into you at a fast rate. He’s going to leave bruises on your hips depending on how hard he’s gripping them. You arched your back as his balls slap against your skin.

‘ Take me so well, angel,” his words are slurred, “ ‘m close angel”

The warmth of your cunt became too much and with three thick spurts,he painted your cunt white. 

You were so cock drunk you couldn't determine how much time really passed. Mike slowly pulls out of your cunt, and he’e delighted to see his cum spill out of your messy cunt.

“ You okay, angel? “Mike asked softly as he rubbed your back. 

You nodded as you rested on the crook of his neck. “ Give me words, angel”

“‘M okay” you mumbled. He was so warm you didn't want to leave his embrace yet. Or ever.

“ You should probably check on your laundry,” Mike quipped. 

You picked up your head and gave him a “ oh so it’s like that face”. “Are you trying to say this one night stand is officially over?”

“ Not in the slightest, angel,” he chuckled.

~~~~

Somehow you and Mike mentioned to get cleaned up and put your clothes back on. You didn't even bother putting your clothes to dry. You just needed a hot shower and sleep. 

Your legs ached from last night’s tryst with Mike, you contemplated calling out of work. But Pixis insisted everyone be there so the new owner could meet his staff. 

You sat at the bar with your coworker , Hitch, resting your head on your palm.

“Girl, you look like hell,” she stated, wiping the bar, “ Rough night or somethin?”

Well, Mike was rough with you last night.

“Or something,” you mumbled.

“Here are two of my best bartenders,” Pyxis’s voice boomed through the empty bar. 

He says that about all his bartenders, you rolled your eyes internally.

“Mr.Zacharias, meet-” his voice drowned out as you picked your head up and made eye contact with the new owner. 

Heart melting green eyes. Beautiful messy, blonde hair, and a panty dropping smile.

Oh Fuck no.

“ Everything alright?” Mike asked. His tone was level but his eyes were teasing. Pyxis and Hitch couldn't see his lustfulness, no doubt remembering what happened before the sun rose.

You rubbed your eyes and snapped out of your trance “I’m fine, just tired is all.” you said.

“Something kept you up?”

“ Laundry took forever,” you answered, “ more than 20 minutes, to be precise.”

[ridingtorohan]

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 request. the crew's reactions to walking in on reader touching themselves.

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. potential second hand embarrassment, reader is gender neutral (no genitalia specified), getting caught, masturbation, semi-public masturbation.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Masterlist ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Part Two: walking in on them

By all accounts, Curly is a respectable captain. He respects boundaries and doesn't cross the line. He's the captain, after all. Not having locks on the door is a safety issue, he knows. Just as he knows to knock. It just wasn't on his mind; he needed your help with something and you're technically available.

So he breezes right in, words on his lips and - there you are.

Holy shit, there you are. In all your lewd glory. "Oh." Then, oh. "Sorry, I'm just-" and he doesn't even finish the sentence because he backtracks and shuts the door behind him.

The thing is, that image haunts him, later. Wriggling like an infestation inside his skull. When he sees you, he acts every bit the proper superior, doesn't bat an eye. Internally, he sees flashes of skin, the way you moaned and sighed.

It leaves a lasting impression in his mind and he's so painfully aware of it. Aware of it in more ways than one because he knows nothing can come of this. It's awkward enough walking in on someone, awkward even more when everytime he knocks on your door afterwards, he's praying that you'll be nude and waiting for him.

Late at night, he remembers it, stroking himself and pressing his face into a pillow as his hips jerk, spilling himself over his fingers, wishing that it was your hands on him.

Sometimes, he wishes you'd walk in on him too.

Even Jimmy knows better than to poke through doors, especially when everybody is awake. He's never felt the need to, not with the open door policy and frankly, until this, he's only noticed you in passing.

Nimble as ever, he opens your door, irritated over something that one of the crew members had done the other day. Sometimes, he just liked to vent and rage about the injustice. You're easy to talk to, but he's never really sought you out for anything else before.

The door shuts behind him and he just stands there, previous irritation set to the backburner. Because there you are, uniform discarded and showing off your form, hand between your thighs as you nursed your arousal.

Above all else, Jimmy is a certified voyeur. He likes to watch and admire, drilling inside his head about the way your hand moves, the curve of your spine. Each individual sound. But even Jimmy has his limits.

When you're close or have already come, he slides up behind you, hot breath at your neck, thick hands skimming over your waist, to your thighs, only to settle on top of yours. "As much as I enjoy the view, pet, I'm going to take it from here." And he makes damn good no his promise.

He makes a mental note that to visit your room far more often.

Anya really just needed an answer to a quick question, relating to your latest check in to the medbay (or your duties). She knocks on the door, too softly to be heard over the sound of your activities.

It takes her an embarrassingly long time to even realize what was going on. All she sees is your huddled form. First comes the concern, her hand reaching out for your shoulder, "Are you oka-"

And you let out such a noisy sigh that she freezes. She's gotten laid before and suddenly it hits her like a truck just what she walked into because she knows what those sounds mean. Furiously backpedalling, her hand raises to her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

Quietly, she excuses herself from your quarters, ears a little red and hands shaking.

For a long, awkward time afterward, she can't even meet your eyes, even going as far as delegating the psych eval to Curly.

If you ever get injured, she performs it as meticulously as she can, her eyes tracing over every ounce of your body, trying to forget the way you moved.

Frankly, at one point, one of you would have to address what happened. But she's more than eager to ride this bumpy path until then, even if it strains your relationship with her.

Everytime she sees you that familiar, yawning ache simmers in her gut.

As much as she tried to deny it, what she walked in on affected her.

When the tension becomes too much, she finds herself sitting on her leg, grinding herself against her calf, biting the inside of her cheek as she imagines you there.

As stupid as it is, she might have maybe done it in your presence, hands trembling as she tries to keep a conversation going, desk separating you two. Other times, when it becomes unbearable, she rubs her thighs together or slides her calves against the leg of her chair, praying to god that you don't see her. (But half of her hoping that you will.)

He's been looking for you for the better part of half an hour; usually, he finds you in obscure places or with his intern, so the last place he thought to look was in your bedroom. Really, that should have been his first guess. You two were supposed to talk about something and it's been on his mind like a nagging hornet.

Sure, walking into another's room is technically frowned upon, but with all the mishaps of Daisuke barging into people's rooms (much to the disgruntlement of, well, everyone) that for a split second he didn't even consider it.

He just opens the door and - okay, so you're doing that. No wonder you were absent, so engrossed in self pleasure that you didn't even hear him stepping in.

Swansea feels too old for this, seeing your twisted figure, your cries of pleasure. So he just turns around and shuts the door, leaving you to it.

He tucks himself back into a latest project and perusing Daisuke's homework, busying himself until you're finished and in public. Not that he planned to publicly confront you about it, but because he knew everybody needed a little time alone. As small as the Tulpar was, he knew any time and space should be well spent. Even if he silently questioned your methods.

But he does bring it up. He doesn't let it slide (not like how your hands slid between your thighs and-).

Despite whatever personality conflicts you two had, he had eyes and all working parts, thank you very much. He also had needs.

Once the original topic was out of the way, he crossed his arms, expression serious when he says, "Now, it's all my doin' for bargin' in like that, but I saw something of you that I shouldn't have." He'd elaborate if he had to, "If alone time is what you're after, we've got socks for that. Toss it on your door handle and be done with it; I ain't gonna let nobody disturb ya during it."

As awkward as that conversation was, he's handled it before. He has grown kids, after all. But you're not his kid, and you're certainly grown - he's seen that. Noticed it off-hand a few times before too.

He sighs, leaning back, letting you decide when he adds, "But if release is what you're after, I know a thing or two, and I can help you with that."

All but acting like a lost puppy, Daisuke often turned to you for help in locating his missing items. Batteries, dust pan, his gameboy cartridge. (Swansea was so mad the last time he lost the screwdriver and thanked you profusely with your help locating it.) So popping in for a quick minute into your bedroom to ask for your help in locating his soap was a mindless task.

He pops in, door banging, energetic words on his lips. His brain all but sputters when your eyes connect, nude form on the bed, sprawled out, light sheen of sweat on your body, looking like a tribute straight from the gods.

Despite your hasty attempt to cover and a spew of apologies from Daisuke's lips, he can't take his eyes off you. It's like he can't even blink, so absorbed in your image that half of what he's saying doesn't make sense.

You'd have to forcibly remove him because he is rooted to his spot, unable to vacate of his own free will. He'll be banging on your door, pleading to be let back in, to talk it over. He's not sure what he wants to say - more apologies? Explain why he's there? He wants to offer help so badly.

If he's not pushed out at all, his brain ceases to function. Despite being a handsome lad, and being twenty, he's hardly been with anyone. Sure, he knows exactly what you're up to - he's done it himself plenty of times-- but all those words die in his mouth.

"Soap, I swear I'm just looking for soap," he explains, trying to rush into an explanation, the only coherent thing he can say.

He'll eventually manage to sputter, "I was going to go shower, but nowIwannaknowifyouwanttojoinme" is strewn in with "ohmygodpleaseletmehelpyou".

He's all jittery, achingly hard in his pants, wanting to touch and hear you make those sounds again. Daisuke feels like he'll go insane if he doesn't. Hands fidgeting, his fingers curl in, unconsciously taking a few steps in. He'll finally manage a coherent, "Please let me stay."

[chalkrub]

my finished thing for the gigaphone! had so much fun taking part <:^)!

[kirby-the-gorb]

[tariah23]

This is but surprising since I’ve seen other accounts talking about this same shit, get snipped in real time

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

I do think that any fan who believes Tolkien intended readers to view characters as deserving of death, instead of simply meeting death as a consequence of their actions (or that one state-sanctioned execution), is fundamentally missing the ideology conveyed in ‘Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement.’

[metaphoricallyrose]

More!

[iamthedancing]

warning to to my fellow photosensitives: last night's game changer episode (deja vu) is amazing but is also full of flashing lights

please be careful and "watch" by just listening to the audio/give this one a skip/take care in whatever way makes the most sense for you and your situation!

[deadpoets]

GEORGE HARRISON The Beatles backstage at Shea Stadium

[ushitoshiii]

[knockknockitsnickels]

"Sacrifice the Yourself" chapter 2: The Broken The Hierophant. Starring the Narrator, Voice of the Tower, Princess Princess, and furby Broken

[oh-no-its-bird]

Fan art for @hashiramashonkers 's very awesome fic that everyone should go and read, Sugar Pill

[daily-flowey]

Day 250 (ft. Papyrus)

[snowyh2o]

Angel Alastor in a new suit. Slight redesign because I wanted to draw actual wings and give him a ponytail and glasses

[sillyabtmusic]