#the band cerulean!au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 8 months

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✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body.

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal.

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock.

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.”

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?”

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell.

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride.

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.”

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base.

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise.

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks.

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!”

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms his hard and heavy cock as he pleases.

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears.

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires.

you think you prefer that side of you more.

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.”

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation.

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle.

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends.

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him.

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell.

that day, you learn two valuable lessons:

one — never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills.

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

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risuola · 1 month

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ENTRY #2 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

As if the pleads could never be heard, You turned away the cerulean blue, And while the lines began to get blurred, I struggled to bask in the might of you.

cw: arranged marriage!au, brief mention of blood I guess — 1,2k words

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It didn’t take long until you realized that there’s something no one considered when arranging the marriage between you and the honored one. An aspect of life that got heavily overlooked, painfully ignored. When the main objective was to secure the bloodline of your clan and make sure the precious genes of the strongest won’t end with the demise of the man himself, not even one person thought of the consequences you will have to face. Maybe no one expected that to happen, maybe no one was bright enough to realize that the moment your hand was adorned with a golden band, and the vows that echoed in between the walls silenced down, all of Satoru’s enemies will automatically become your enemies.

You were a warrior – strong and fearless. A sorcerer of true blood and bones, you were proud of what you represented while entering the battlefield, proud of your abilities and power. Before you became Gojo, not much was able to surprise you. Before your name was changed, nothing ever threatened you enough to make you feel uneasy. Nothing until now.

It didn’t really surprise you anymore, it wasn’t the first time. It was logical in a way, attacking your husband was bound to be futile – infinity made him invincible, untouchable, and those characteristics you lacked severely. You were an obvious target, a person that’s closest to the real target and in times like this, when facing few curses that you were certain were special grade, you wondered if their approach would be different if they knew how little you meant to your husband. Would they retreat if they knew that attacking a mere assistant like Ijichi would cause more emotions in Satoru Gojo than the death of his own wife?

You fought, making the most out of your abilities to stand against the force whose main objective was to brutalize you as much as possible. You saw it as a chance to learn more, to develop more resistance, to grow stronger. There was a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, a thrill of excitement as the battle unraveled with an air of dread and death surrounding the desolate area. The metallic taste of blood was distinctive on your tongue once your body failed to protect you from a series of attacks. You moved despite the sharp pain that slowly but surely was making its way throughout your entire system. For a moment you felt giddy, almost euphoric as the idea of going all in settled in your mind and then you realized that it might end up bad.

Equipped in a blade that’s made fully from your own cursed energy and sharp enough to cut through the hardest of stone, you moved forward, ready to collide with the cursed spirits that caught you in the middle of nowhere. But then you stopped and your eyes closed tightly as the bright, red light blinded you. A strong arm held you around the ribcage and a large frame of a man was pressed to your back.

“Can you please fucking tell me, is running away against your beliefs?” You heard the familiar, sharp tone of your husband, a groan of annoyance and something else that you couldn’t decipher carrying his words. You tilted your head to look at his unamused face. His eyes, now unobscured, weren’t even directed at you, but his jaw was clenched and his hold on you was tight. “I’m sure you’re smart enough to tell that it’s way above your level of jujutsu.”

You couldn’t tell how much of his words was care and how much was pure insult, but either way it put you at ease to know he’s there. There was a sense of safety that you never experienced before, the calm embrace of infinity that wrapped around your frame, the subtle taste of what it’s like to be untouchable. And it lingered, crawled softly across your skin along with the foreign warmth of your husband’s body.

“If you look around you might realize that there’s literally no way to run away,” you replied with just enough of venom to mask how grateful you were for his appearance. The spiteful tone felt natural on your tongue, a default of when you spoke to him and yet, this time you had to remember to use it.

“Yeah, right, so next best thing is to face something that will fucking kill you head on.” He groaned, annoyed, nervous. You felt his fingers digging between your ribs, he kept you closer than he needed to. “Such a wise and well thought through decision.”

“I’m not as weak as you thi–“

“I know,” he cut you off, bothered and harsh. “But you are too weak for this.”

He was right and you knew that. You were far from your best shape, the job you finished just few hours prior ate most of your cursed energy and even with full power you’d most likely struggle against the threat of those curses. But then, you were not given a choice. It was rather fight or die without a fight and the decision was easy.

“Good thing my husband is so strong.”

A sharp tsk left Satoru’s lips and then, the cursed creatures vanished, seemingly aware of how much the power scale tilted to their detriment. Next time you blinked, you were at home and your husband’s touch was gone. The subtle pressure of his fingers against your ribcage now only a ghost of what it was seconds ago.

“It wasn’t the first time now, was it?” He questioned and you struggled to tell if what you heard below the detachment and coldness was care or annoyance.

“It wasn’t. But I’m usually able to deal with it myself.”

Gojo sighed. A long and deep exhale of air left his lungs and he seemed to think, to weigh his next words and actions carefully.

“You should’ve told me. I’ll take care of it,” he said finally, bluntly, matter-of-factly. “You’re not strong enough to face my enemies.”

“I held them long enough for you to come, didn’t I?”

“And what if I didn’t show up?!” He snapped and growled, loud and angry. His fingers wrapped around your jaw, forcefully tilting your head back, to look at him fully. His face was closer, your noses almost touching and the piercing blue of his eyes fixed on you, as the tone of his speech got low and quiet, almost whisper-like. ”What if I didn’t come?”

“Then I’d be dead,” you replied, surprised by how small your own voice sounded. There was no right answer you could’ve given him.

“Yeah, you’d be dead,” he nodded, panted. You watched the spectacle of emotions playing across his handsome features. His brows furrowed and the narrowed eyes seemed to look straight through your very soul. For a second or two, his jaw clenched and lips pressed together forming a line and you were stunned to realize that even his beautiful face creased when angered. And then, his lids dropped, the muscles relaxed. He breathed out, you felt it on your lips and skin, a subtle sweetness and mint of his breath. The tight hold of his fingers loosened up as he looked at you again, allowing his eyes to run down your features, to linger on your lips before they got back to stare back at you. “I don’t want you dead.”

taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban

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katbrando · 9 months

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🥁 diego brando/afab!reader ✱ 5.8k ✱ NSFW 🔥

(minors dni, you’ll be blocked)

content/summary: band au, drummer diego, vaginal fingering, blowjobs, inappropriate use of drumsticks, PIV sex, you've been following diego's band around for the duration of their tour and he wants to reward you for your commitment :))

preview:

“That’s it,” Diego encourages, sliding the second drumstick inside you to meet the first, “you’re so lucky, do you know that?" It’s a one-sided conversation, you’re too weak and overwhelmed to form words but you continue to keep your eyes on his, all but begging for him to keep talking. He looks unbelievably beautiful like this: your leg slung over his shoulder, the force of his thrusts making his body shake, his face flushed and glistening with sweat, smeared black lip gloss streaked across his mouth and chin. “I’ve never done this before, fucking a fan I mean,” he teases, a sly grin spreading across his face, “but exceptions can be made for my biggest fan. And you are my biggest fan,” he pauses, slowing his actions and lifting an eyebrow, “right?”

[ read on ao3 instead ]

As the sun starts to set and bathes the sky in rich golden hues, you take your place near the front of a line gradually wrapping around a small downtown theater. You’re only beaten by a trio of friends who must’ve been sitting here for hours, but as the evening progresses, more and more people arrive and the excitement in the air is almost palpable. You’ve come alone; you’d invited some friends to accompany you for the duration of the tour, but unfortunately your enthusiasm for the idea wasn’t shared by the rest of them. Regardless,nothing could stop you from seeing your favorite band in the world, there was nothing anyone could say that would turn you away from a continuous roadtrip like this. Even halfway through the tour, you’re still buzzing with anticipation at the start of every show.

You can hear hints of sound testing inside, someone checking the microphone whose voice is far too monotone to be Gyro’s, too unfamiliar to arouse any sort of excitement from within you. Besides, if your ears were going to tune into anything then it’d be the drums you’ve become so familiar with, even just by sound alone. And whoever is testing those right now very clearly doesn’t possess the same distinct energy as Diego Brando.

Is it odd to be so fixated on him? Surely not. The rest of the band have their fair share of persistent and loud fans, and while you do enjoy the group as a whole it’s always Diego that’s captured your attention the most. Even without his trademark liner and glossy black-stained lips you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere. A man like Diego doesn’t need stature when he can compensate with charisma, and there’s something so breathtaking about the way he’s always tucked at the back of the stage, sharp cerulean eyes always almost shining with excitement. He loves the attention, even if he has to fight for it more than the others.

Amidst your usual fantasizing, it slowly occurs to you that, from several feet behind you, the crowd has started to make noise which only increases in volume as the seconds tick by. Just some pre-show excitement, you’re sure. But when you turn your head to find its catalyst, your eyes blow wide.

There he is; standing at 5’3”, beautifully tousled blonde mane flowing gently in the slight breeze, eyes covered by a pair of aviators, dressed in his typical DIY vest, tattered tank top, and high-waisted plaid pants, boots clunking heavily against the sidewalk as he progressively gets closer. The smirk that tugs at his lips is so in character for him, made extra charming as he lifts his fresh Starbucks coffee and takes a slow sip. All the while he basks in the cheers, getting teasingly close to the roped off line and occasionally stopping for a very brief photo op.

It’s a bit embarrassing, but your heart is doing cartwheels beneath your chest and you’re instinctively smoothing out the front of your homemade shirt in hopes he’ll see his own photo haphazardly ironed on top. The heat filling your cheeks is only made worse as he gets close enough for you to see his bare features.

He has a very short exchange with a man just a few places behind you, and time seems to stop as soon as Diego’s gaze moves forward to rest on yours. He gives you a once over, and even with the tinted barrier that his eyes sit behind you can tell there’s a glint of amusement in them.

“Didja make that yourself?” He gestures his cup towards your shirt.

“Yeah,” you start quietly, then clear your throat to repeat yourself, “I did, yeah –”

Your mouth goes dry when he leans closer, tugs his glasses down to reveal his eyes, completely devoid of their usual messy eyeliner, and then quickly straightens up again.

“How about an autograph?” It’s less a question and more a demand as he beckons you forward with two fingers.

Hesitation is plastered across your face, so Diego puts matters into his own hands. He lifts the rope and nods toward the venue.

“C’mon, haven’t got much time.”

Inside? He’s going to give you an autograph inside? Surely it’d be easier to do it out here. While you’re wasting time questioning it, Diego pulls you along with his palm firmly placed at your middle back. There’s a slight uproar amongst the others in line, but Diego pays them no mind. He guides you into the venue and your eyes immediately attempt to adjust to the dim lighting inside.

Huddled on the stage are the rest of Diego’s bandmates, having jovial conversation as they set up their gear. Each of them offer Diego a wave and that’s it, as if him bringing in fans off the street is a common occurrence. But that can’t be true; you’ve been following them around for weeks now, and you’ve never seen them pull a random person out of line like this.

A tight hallway and one right turn lead you to a door that loudly creaks as Diego swings it open. Inside is a typical greenroom: old beat up couches at the center, a busted vanity in the corner of the room, messy baggage full of outfits you know fairly well at this point. As you take all of it in, Diego steps further inside and crouches down to dig through what must be his own suitcase.

As you stand there awkwardly, he grumbles from his spot on the floor until he finally locates a silver sharpie. He requests for you to close the door, and you obey without thinking at all. As it clicks shut he turns around, sticking the pen between his teeth in favor of removing his aviators, folding them, and then hooking them to the collar of his shirt. God, with eyes like that he could tell you to do anything and you’re sure you’d say yes. Diego regards you with a thoughtful stare as his gaze roams your front. He nods once and uncaps the sharpie with a quick tug, leaving the top still settled between his teeth. This close, you can hear his breath filtering through his nostrils all the while he leans down and presses the pen against the space just below your collarbone. You can only bask in the moment of closeness for a couple of seconds before he’s finished and straightened up again, replacing the cap and tossing the pen back into his backpack.

“Thank you,” you manage, realizing with slight panic that you haven’t properly said much of anything since he’s tugged you in here. “I don’t want to take up anymore of your time –”

Two steps towards the door is all he allows before he cuts you off and urges you back towards the couches with a wave of his hand.

“Relax, we’re not on for another hour. It’s filthy out there, anyway.” He pulls a disgusted face. “This heat is atrocious.”

Stunned, you slip back into speechlessness as the man turns on his heel and heads for the vanity. He digs through a makeup bag, eventually finding a half-empty lip gloss in black and applying a thin layer to his pillowy lips. He knows you’re staring – hell, he probably loves the fact that you are, the way he pops his hip out makes it clear.

“Sit,” he demands, eyes sharply digging into yours even from against the chipped mirror, and you aren’t about to say no.

The couch sinks much lower than expected as soon as you plop down. Once you’ve adapted to the uncomfortable upward press of springs, a question slips from your mouth.

“Why’d you pick me out of the crowd? I’m not VIP, I didn’t think you guys even had VIP tickets.”

“We don’t,” he confirms, popping his lips and then turning around to lean his full weight against the vanity. He smiles, taps the gloss against the side of his head. “I have a pristine memory, darling, you’ve been following us around.”

Darling? your heart does an embarrassing little flip again, then yet another as realization hits you; yes, he’s aware of your existence and he remembers you. So the eye contact you’d managed at every single show hadn’t been just silly little moments of delusion.

“I’m a big fan.” A pointless elaboration, but Diego smirks with delight at the admission anyway.

“Obviously,” he chuckles, gesturing to you with the container of gloss, silently noting the carefully crafted shirt. “So why wouldn’t I reward a fan?”

Whether he was looking for an answer or not, Diego allows you no time to give one. He turns on his heel again and exchanges the lip gloss for a freshly sharpened eyeliner pencil. Effortlessly, he applies a generous amount to one eye, and you can’t help but be transfixed by how precise he is. Mid-way through his second eye the thought occurs to you that you’ve already gotten your “reward”, so there’s no reason to keep sitting here and bothering him.

And yet again, when you try to stand and open your mouth to announce your departure, Diego’s gaze snaps towards you and he lifts one thick eyebrow. His expression reads almost interrogating and it makes you swallow with something akin to fear, but not quite that severe.

“I assume the others will be here soon?” You quietly suggest. Really, meeting Diego has been more than enough, and you’d like to save some of your enthusiasm for the show itself.

“‘Course not, they’re already dressed,” Diego scoffs, zipping up the cosmetics bag and chucking it into his suitcase. He crosses the room, slowly, sizing you up more obviously now.

“Sit,” he repeats, stare unrelenting as his eyes bore into yours.

Even being as small as he is, Diego’s presence is overwhelmingly dominating. Heart thumping so hard you can feel it in your throat, you opt to obey. Again, the couch greets you with the squeak of springs as you sit down, and he doesn’t miss the discomfort on your face. Diego nods once with satisfaction, smiling before plopping down on the couch across from yours.

“Surely you’d rather sit back here than have to stand in that line. And besides…” Diego leans down to dig through his suitcase again, only sitting back up when he’s located a pair of drumsticks and brandishes them dramatically in the air, “why opt out of spending some time with your favorite rockstar?”

Well, “rockstar” seems a little exaggerated, considering the shows have been taking place in small venues and it’s not like any of their songs have hit the top 100 list. You stifle a little laugh at that, not wanting to hurt his ego. Could his ego even be hurt? Is he capable of that? Unknowingly, a smile has crept up on your face, and the rockstar in question is eating it up as he mindlessly taps the sticks against his thighs.

Diego slowly leans back, gradually parts his legs until he’s practically spread across the entire couch. His shirt is slightly riding up, revealing a sliver of tummy that’s decorated by a patch of light hair just above the closure of his pants. At this point there’s no use attempting to hide the fact that you’re eyeing him with something less innocent in your gaze. In fact, the sight is unfortunately sending a wave of heat cascading through your gut, and the way you squirm slightly is not lost on him.

“Uncomfortable?” Diego inquires, though his expression says he doesn’t need an answer. “You’re welcome to join me over here.”

“I’d hate to crowd you.” Really, you’re more worried about the need filling your gut. You’ve done your best to tamp it down, but, for a while now, you’ve been intrigued by Diego for reasons far surpassing simple admiration.

Diego has his mind already set on it; he slides to one side of the couch, gently patting what little free space is left with the tip of one drumstick. And without much thought, your body is already standing, slowly making your way towards him and making brief eye contact before sitting down. If there were any possible way to wipe the blush off your face then you’d be desperately doing it. From this close you can smell the cologne radiating off of him, an expensive scent that contrasts his outfit. Musk, vanilla, and a hint of citrus.

“Here,” Diego mumbles, pointing one drumstick at you, clearly offering it. “These are my lucky pair, I trust you’ll be careful with it.”

Careful is an understatement when there’s few things in your life that you’ve held as gingerly as this. The tip is worn with frequent use and a chipped portion sits near the base; there’s something oddly magical about handling it, knowing it’s been wielded by Diego’s skilled hands, graced by his sweaty palms.

“I have some extra in my bag.” He gestures with his other stick towards the object in question. “It’s only fair to offer my biggest fan a signed pair.”

“Oh, Diego, I can’t do that.” Your head whips around to face him just as you note how wonderful it feels to address him in person.

Diego scoffs and rolls his eyes, pointing with more enthusiasm. “It’s a one-time offer, take it or leave it.”

Why on earth would you leave it?

Just as quickly as you’d sat down, you move to crouch next to his bag and hesitantly rummage inside until you find three unopened packages of fresh sticks settled in one pocket. You pull a random one out, lifting it up in the air.

“This one okay?”

“‘Course,” he replies, nodding almost impatiently. “Set them aside for now.”

Doing as instructed, you glance around for a moment to find a suitable spot, but instead just leave them on the floor next to his bag. Diego’s eyes are still watching you expectantly, and before you can sit next to him again he stops you just short by pressing the butt end of one stick against your stomach.

“Hold on,” he mumbles, geturing for you to stand in front of him. As soon as you do, he studies the front of your shirt more closely. Several seconds drag by as he takes it in, admiring it, likely full of pride.

“It’s a shame they haven’t made shirts like this, y’know.” The tip of his drumstick traces along the print of himself and his eyes briefly flick upwards to catch yours, gauging your reaction. When you express zero reservations, he increases the pressure lower and lower until he reaches the waistband of your pants. “Maybe we could hire you on as a printmaker,” he offers, thoughtfully, though somehow you doubt there’s much honesty to it.

Your heart pounds beneath your chest, your disbelief overwhelming and only able to be ignored when Diego reaches out to hook two fingers into one of your belt loops. He tugs, softly laughing as you nearly topple forwards.

“How often have you thought about this?” His voice is dripping with suggestion, as if he’s always been reading your mind even as you’ve stood at the front barrier of every show. An ache settles in your groin and he immediately senses it, dragging his drumstick lower past the closure of your jeans.

Even if you wanted to answer, the words would be overwhelmed by the heartbeat rising in your throat. It occurs to you that you’ve got your hands awkwardly lifted in the air, but when the tip of the stick drags purposefully just where he knows it’ll have the desired effect, they land desperately on his shoulders.

“That answers that,” Diego purrs, tapping gently in the same spot and quietly laughing at the soft sound you make in response. It seems he’s taken it as a sign to continue; he sets the drumstick between his teeth and with a deft hand he lifts the hem of your shirt just enough to see the closure of your pants. Given all his other actions, it should come as no surprise when he pops the button open and tugs tantalizingly slow at your zipper, but even still shock rushes its way through your body, signaling that it’s time to panic.

“Diego –” you start, but for the moment the words catch in your throat as he glances up at you. He’s stopped moving, pausing with the zipper half undone, the pull clasped tightly between his thumb and middle finger. Quickly enough, you locate the sensibility to finish your thought. “Someone could walk in.”

A devilish grin and a raise of one eyebrow tell you all you need to know; either Diego simply isn’t bothered by that possibility – hell, maybe he wants it to happen – or he’d planned this entire scenario ages ago. Even with the crew and band making up a small amount of people, you’ve been wondering just why nobody else has ventured into the room in the past several minutes.

With a dramatic flourish of his hand, Diego plucks the drumstick from out of his mouth and sets it down next to him, briefly looking at it as if he’s not quite finished with it. “That won’t be a problem,” he assures you, finally fully unzipping your pants and dragging two fingers across the newly revealed fabric of your underwear. “Don’t you worry about that, you’ve got me all to yourself.” Another tug on your belt loop reiterates his promise.

Though you’re sure none of the thoughts in his head right now are innocent, there’s a lilt to his voice that oddly puts you at ease. But, maybe that’s just your desire for him clouding your judgment. Either way, he’s got you like putty in his hands; even the action of him bringing his fingers to his mouth and coating them with spit makes your brain foggy with need. He doesn’t waste any time, and you make no moves to stop him as his fingers dip beneath your underwear and circle the spot you’ve ached to feel his touch for ages now.

“How’s that?” Halfway through the question you’ve already dug your fingers into his sturdy shoulders, giving him all the answer he needs. His hand travels farther down and he gives a satisfied hum at just how wet you already are.

No words could possibly do justice to the thoughts in your head right now, the feelings washing over your body as his fingers play with you. With one knee bumping against your leg, he encourages you to spread further for him and he slips one digit between your folds. Your jaw is clenched as tight as possible but it’s not enough to fight a sputtering moan. It’s a noise that’s like music to Diego’s ears.

“Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, releasing your belt loop to instead reach up and squeeze your jaw in a manner that contrasts the gentle tone of his voice. “Pretty little thing like you should make all the noise you like.”

“Diego, this is –” you mumble, only to be interrupted by him tugging your face closer and breathing hot across your lips.

“Everything you’ve ever wanted,” he finishes for you. While it wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind, no truer words could be spoken in this moment.

As if that statement was the only thing you needed to fully let all inhibitions go, you’re diving in for a kiss, teeth briefly clicking against his before you both settle into a comfortable angle. His finger prods at your hole just as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, your legs buckling under the weight of your arousal. It gets progressively more difficult to fight to stand up as his fingers work quicker and harder, pumping in and out in a clear attempt to break you. Before you can fall, Diego is quick to pull you closer until you topple forwards against him and you’re forced to break for breath.

“Off,” he demands, reaching a hand around to give your ass a swift spank and tug firmly at the waistband of your jeans. With a hurried pace encouraged both by anxiety and desire, you awkwardly fumble around until your shoes and jeans are both tossed to the floor.

Diego hungrily watches you, reaching up to swipe at his mouth with his forearm only to leave a black smudge behind. He places one palm on his crotch and cups himself through his pants as your mind races, considering the possibility of seeing him, all of him, wondering if he’s aching as much as you are. It’s that thought alone that brings you to your knees, settling between his legs and eyeing him for approval.

“That’s it,” he groans, placing an encouraging palm on your cheek.

With admittedly shaky hands, you unfasten his pants and pause just short of tugging them down, disbelief surfacing again in your mind. But Diego is way ahead of you, lifting his hips enough to shimmy out from the confines of his pants until the base of his cock slowly presents itself to you amongst a patch of carefully trimmed hair. The second he fully pulls it out and wraps his hand around himself, the pair of you give a simultaneous moan.

You can feel the warmth radiating off of him as you cautiously lean closer, anchoring your palms on his knees. All the nights you’ve spent thinking about this, all the times you’ve shamefully whimpered his name just as you’ve reached a precipice, all the daydreams and the fake scenarios playing out in your mind day after day after day… all of it has improbably led you to this moment, and when he grips your chin and encourages you closer still that’s all it takes to ground you. As soon as your lips brush up against the tip of his cock, you realize there’s no going back.

Diego is transfixed, watching with half-lidded eyes as you eagerly open your mouth. A series of wet slapping sounds fills the air as he taps himself against the surface of your tongue. He does his best to fight back against the noises his body wants to make, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, but he can’t resist squirming just a bit as you languidly lick at the underside of his cock.

Willing away all the self-doubt plaguing your thoughts, you let a trail of spit coat the tip of his cock and gradually take him between your lips. He’s eager, you can tell by the way he lifts his hips in an effort to bury himself further in your mouth, and that leads you to believe you’re doing well enough. When he rests a hand on top of your head and shoves himself deeper still, you gag and watch as his eyes go wide at the sound. Tears form at the corners of your eyes and you force yourself back up, gasping for air even as Diego drags his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Blimey,” he whispers around a soft laugh, “you’re a little minx, aren’t you?”

If he keeps teasing you like that, you might not last very long. Fortunately he goes mostly quiet again as soon as you wrap your lips around him again, this time bobbing your head with a more hurried pace and making sure to be as noisy as possible. You can feel him throbbing as you note the way his head slumps back against the couch, but letting him cum like this would be far too quick for your liking.

With a gasp and a pop sound you let him go, watching as a mix of precum and spit trails from your lips to his reddened tip. As you lick up every bit that you can, Diego shakily stands to remove the remainder of his bottoms. As exhausted as you already are, he’s nowhere near finished with you; near breathlessly he demands you move to the couch with a simple but effective “up”.

As soon as your ass hits the worn chenille, Diego’s hands are already spreading your legs apart and the cool air hitting your heat reminds you just how soaked you are. With one drumstick clenched between his teeth again, he leans over you, eyes so sharp they almost appear reptilian for a moment. But really it’s a wonder you can spend any amount of attention on that when his cock is at full mast, pointed directly at you, leaking and glistening.

Without a word, Diego crouches down on one knee, grasping one of your ankles tightly and forcefully slinging it over his shoulder. Mere seconds is all you’re afforded to be able to wonder why he’s got that drumstick in his mouth again as he drags two fingers between your folds, separates them, and then plunges the same digits in without any warning. Your body immediately buzzes with pleasure that’s only made more overwhelming when his thumb circles your clit. Locking eyes with him while he pumps and curls his fingers may very well spell the end for you, but Diego has proven to be an expert at reading signs, so as soon as your expression signals climax, his actions cease.

“Bloody hell,” Diego attempts before tugging the drumstick out from between his teeth. He effortlessly twirls it thoughtfully in his hand, clearly mulling something over. Confused, you impatiently pull him closer with your ankle at the back of his head

“I want nothing more than to fuck you, love,” he croons, brushing the stick’s tip upwards along your inner thigh. “But I was hoping you’d do me a little favor first.”

If not for the sliver of self-restraint still within you, a loud “yes” would be your response. Instead, you let him further tease you, locking eyes with him again as he prods at your hole with the object in his hand. Despite the hint of a scraping sensation on your skin, you eagerly nod.

“Oh wonderful,” Diego purrs, twirling the stick again and pressing the butt end against you with more force. “It’s a shame I can’t have you up on that stage with me during the show,” he plays up his disappointed tone, slowly easing the stick inside you. “But maybe this will do, hm?”

It’s much different than his fingers, but somehow the idea and resulting feeling of having such a precious item of his shoved inside you has every nerve in your body screaming with pleasure. And he can sense every bit of it, so he doesn’t hesitate to continue. His expression is almost scarily proud; it’s the same he wears during the climax of every song where he’s given a solo, it’s the face of a man who knows he’s in charge, he’s the star.

Discomfort fades into rapture as your body adjusts to the stiff, dry wood. Diego works quickly, twisting his wrist as well as he fucks you with his drumstick and mumbles obscenities amidst affirmations of how well you’re taking it, how extra lucky this pair is going to feel thanks to your essence. One particularly well-placed thrust sends your palm clapping over your mouth to avoid screaming with unbridled pleasure.

“Oh, no,” Diego chuckles, instantly reaching up to pull your hand away from your face, “no need for that, you can scream all you’d like.” As if to further encourage it, he makes sure to hit the same spot again.

“Diego–” the end of his name transitions into a powerful moan, one that’s louder than intended but offers you a reward in the form of him plucking the leftover drumstick off the couch.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, sliding the second one inside you and continuing the same ministrations, “you’re so lucky, do you know that?”

You nod once, that’s all you can manage. It’s a one-sided conversation, you’re too weak and overwhelmed to form words but you continue to keep your eyes on his, all but begging for him to keep talking. He looks unbelievably beautiful like this: your leg slung over his shoulder, the force of his thrusts making his body shake, his face flushed and glistening with sweat, smeared lip gloss streaking across his mouth and chin.

“I’ve never done this before, fucking a fan I mean,” he teases, a sly grin spreading across his face, “but exceptions can be made for my biggest fan. And you are my biggest fan,” he pauses, slowing his actions and lifting an eyebrow, “right?”

Another nod is not a good enough answer for him. He tuts and comes to a standstill, gripping your chin in his free hand and jutting out his bottom lip. “Use your words, darling.”

“Please,” you surprise yourself with the way you whimper and plead for him, “Diego, keep fucking me, I –”

“So meek,” he observes with disappointment, but still shoves the sticks into you again, following your instructions without any grace. “I know you can be loud.”

In hopes of weakening you further, he thumbs at your clit again and smirks with delight at the way it makes you squeal. You don’t cover your mouth again, knowing full well that would only upset him; instead you let his name spill from your lips, unrelenting, loudly. But still not loud enough by his standards.

“What if I fuck you myself?” The sticks clatter to the floor as they frustratingly fall from his grasp. Mind clearly already made up, he stands and clasps the underside of both your thighs. When he shimmies closer to press you tight against the back of the couch, his cock slides effortlessly against the wetness of your pussy and you throb with desperation.

“Fuck me,” you beg, breathlessly, the tightness in your core becoming increasingly unbearable, “I’ll do it, I’ll scream for you.”

“Yeah?” Diego huffs a laugh, reaches down to carefully guide himself inside you and gasps at the new sensation. “Alright, let’s hear it then.”

And with that, every bit of himself that was holding back is gone, he offers you no time to adjust. Diego fucks you hard and fast and the obscene smacking sound of your skin making contact combined with the feeling of his cockhead repeatedly plunging inside you makes your eyes roll back and your body tremble. As soon as you attempt to touch yourself he smacks your hand away and scolds you, and you don’t need to ask why.

Weak as it is, you muster up all the voice you possibly can and call out his name, watching with satisfaction as it makes him groan and his hips stutter.

“Again,” he requests, voice raspy, almost a growl. “Louder.”

With more success, you do it again, already feeling yourself tightening and getting closer and closer to the edge as soon as his name tumbles out from your mouth.

“That’s it,” he praises you, but there’s still something desperate in his eyes, something unsatisfied.

The coiling in your gut snaps as your walls clench around him and hold him tight. This time you scream his name, just as you promised, just as if you’re standing near the front of the stage and watching him play out one of his vigorous solos. Anyone within several feet of this building will have easily been able to hear you, but none of that matters as you watch Diego completely fall apart just moments afterwards, the sound of his own name the exact trigger he needs.

As soon as he slips out from you, you slump against the couch and slide down to the floor, resting on your knees again to drag your lips against his balls as he pumps himself in his hand and chases release. Peppered kisses serve as encouragement as you relish in the whine he utters in response. The only warning you get is his palm pressing to your forehead, effectively dipping you back and making you an easier target. There’s a series of guttural moans, each steadily increasing in volume, before ropes of heat spill across your jaw, your lips, and your nose.

The sensation makes you flinch, but your response is immediate as you swallow the small amount that lands in your mouth. Warm and bitter, it’s everything you could have imagined, and you have imagined it numerous times before. As you swipe at your face and blindly attempt to gather up as much as you can, your back hits the edge of the couch and you weakly sigh. Part of you wants to let his cum sit there to settle into your skin, like a more indecent autograph, but instead you drag what you’ve managed to accumulate across the surface of your tongue.

“Here.” Diego tosses a towel towards you, one that he’d located somewhere at the bottom of his luggage. Somehow within the time you’d been basking in his taste with closed eyes, he’s managed to tug his pants back on, letting them sit unfastened for now. “You can keep that as well.” He says that last bit as if he's gifting you yet another priceless possession. And honestly, he is.

Thankfully, judging by his smug smile, it seems he’s taking your current state as enough of a ‘thank you’, because you aren’t sure if you’d be able to find the energy or words to offer him one anyway. Diego crosses the room to check himself in the vanity mirror again, tousling his hair and reapplying that signature black lip gloss again. Once you feel you’ve sufficiently wiped yourself clean, realization hits you and you rush to get dressed again.

“Show’s about to start,” Diego informs you and your ears tune into the excited crowd now piling into the venue. His heavy boots clunk closer and closer until he offers you a fresh pair of drumsticks, as promised. Adorning the length of both are two more autographs, flanked by messily scrawled stars. “I’ll have security save a spot for you at the front, but don’t dilly-dally too much.”

Wordlessly, you take the gift and your disbelief surfaces again. If not for the aching in your limbs and his taste still left on your tongue, you’d be inclined to believe this was all a dream.

With his lucky pair in hand again, Diego smirks, slowly dragging the shaft of one stick under his nose and taking a deep breath in.

“I’ll be thinking about you.” He winks. “If you wait around afterwards, maybe an encore could be arranged.”

Diego turns, energetically exiting the room and shutting the door behind him again. As soon as he’s gone you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, eyes scanning the room as if checking to make sure nobody saw what just occurred in these four walls.

Loud cheering erupts from the next room over, and your body acts on its own. Just like he’d promised, security locates you and quickly rushes you to the front of the crowd. Diego instantly makes eye contact with you and winks again, just before clicking his sticks together to cue the rest of the band in. The energy he exudes for this show is particularly wild, giving you a rush of confidence knowing that maybe, just maybe, you’ve had something to do with it.

You just hope he’ll be saving at least a little bit for whatever might transpire after the show.

#diego brando #diego brando x reader #jjba x reader #my writing #tumblr gods pwease dont fuck up formatting

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duckymcdoorknob · 1 year

Text

Okay sorry blurb in my head I gotta get out:

HOO DARLIN- I gave myself some whiplash at the end wow, needs me a soft musician.

Enjoy some soft boi college AU.

As well known as he was, you were no stranger to him and his reputation around campus. You had heard everything under the sun about him. Some told you he was a party animal, others said he was quite studious. People claimed he was a player and flirted relentlessly, but others argued that he was shy and awkward.

Naturally, fate decided that it was up to you to debunk the rumors.

—

It began with a blustery Tuesday morning, the sky yawned cerulean as you exited your class. You smiled toward the Heavens, happily thanking Barbatos for such a beautiful, windy day. It was as if he had heard your praises, and decided to repay you for them…

Within a split second, you felt your hat blow off the confines of your head. With little time to react to it, a yelp escaped your lips as you watched it drift higher and higher, praying that the breeze wouldn’t sweep it into the great unknown.

You prepped yourself to jump, but ultimately stopped when the harsh sound of the fabric being grabbed filled your ears. You look over your right shoulder to see a tall guy, sporting a Greek Life sweatshirt and a tan messenger bag, which was adorned with miscellaneous pins, ranging from band logos, to the LGBTQ+ pride flag. When you looked up at his face, you immediately recognized who your savior was: Tartaglia.

“Yes!” He chirped, “Caught it just in time.” He beamed at you, holding his “trophy” in the air victoriously. His hand came back down, the other adjusting his bag that was hanging loosely off of his shoulder.

You couldn’t help but chuckle in reply. “Great save!” You were feeling lighthearted as you reached up for it, only to have him hold it above your head.

The two of you “fought” for hold-ership of your hat, giggling furiously as you spat empty threats at each other. You attempted to climb the tall male, palm flat on his shoulder in an attempt to hoist yourself up.

“Agh! Hey!” Tartaglia cried in shock, losing his balance, and causing the pair of you to topple onto the grass.

You both laughed joyfully, and before you could register it, your ball-cap had been returned to your head, the brim so far downward it covered your eyes.

When you pulled it up, a smile still stretched across your features, the first thing you saw was a beaming Tartaglia. His arms were behind his head, the rest of his body flat on the grass. “You’re a brave one.” He noted, turning his head toward you. “Not many people would attempt to climb me like a frickin’ tree.”

You stuck your tongue out and poked his side, causing him to recoil with a squeak. The two of you continued to lay on the lawn, sharing stories, telling jokes, and complaining about classes. Of course, Tartaglia did steal your hat many more times, resulting in a wrestling match every time,

Before you knew it, Tartaglia had become your best friend, and even later he became so much more. As you lay with him on the lawn, you recalled all of the things that used to be said about him. You smiled, lacing your fingers together.

Tartaglia is not a player, nor is he a party animal.

He’s an awkward, dorky, giggly guy, who loves to play the flute, and has pins lining his bag.

Above all else? He’s yours.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #tartaglia genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia imagines #Childe x reader #childe imagines #ajax x reader #childe ajax tartaglia #college au #gender neutral reader

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depressedstressedlemonzest · 8 months

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Double Tag Game

Tagged by @suzy-queued @mikhailoisbaby @iansw0rld @energievie @lupeloto and @lingy910y

Favorites Grid

Animal: English Bulldog Movie: Zack and Miri Make a Porno Season: Fall Character: Mickey Color: Blue (specifically cerulean) Hobby: writing Book: By A Thread by Lucy Score, though it was hard to pick, I love all of her books. Song: couldn't pick so AJR the band, love them Drink: pepsi

Next This or That

ABO or Soulmates // fake dating or secret dating // fix-it or post-canon // mutual pining or friends-to-lovers // slow burn or angst// smut or romance // Reality TV au or Porn au // Enemies-to-lovers or Enemies-to-friends-to-lovers // Domestic Fluff or Hurt/Comfort // Coffee Shop au or College au // one-shot or multi-chapter // Crossover or canon compliant // MPreg or adoption // online romance or workplace romance // single parent au or sports au // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic

I'll taaaag

@ian-galagher @callivich @witchboywitchboywitchboy @michellemisfit @scurvgirl and @sisitrip

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dawn-moths · 4 months

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🎶💖 and 🤗 for your ask game please ^^

hello! hope you’re doing well today ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

🎶 do you listen to music while you write? what songs have you been playing on loop lately?

yes! i usually listen to some kind of music when I write. I have some series specific playlists i made while working on bigger projects like ctsav and my cerulean gaze series, as well as character specific playlists I sometimes turn to if I feel like i need a little extra inspiration. If not those then it’s probably lo-fi music or whatever I’m in the mood for at the moment. I’ve been revising my cerulean gaze playlist lately because I’m actually currently working on a lil bonus fic set in that au im hoping to have out by touya’s birthday, which has a lot of the neighbourhood songs on it (they’re also one of my favorite bands).

💖 what made you start writing?

Honestly it was mainly two things, and that was wanting to create content i was looking for but couldn’t find and also processing through some of my own personal traumas. Writing has always been a form of therapy for me in some way, but there’s just something about fic writing that especially helps. Maybe it’s because I’m also sharing it but, and I don’t know if other people necessarily get the kind of catharsis out of it that I do while I’m writing it, I like to think that perhaps there are some people who’ve read my fics as a form of therapy. I know I definitely have some fics ive read by others that have helped me in ways I could’ve never expected.

🤗 what advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I feel like I’ve seen people give this advice a lot but it really rings true for me so here it is: write what you want to write, not what you think other people want you to write. Even if it seems niche or oddly specific or whatever, if you have a passion for it that’ll shine through and become apparent to your readers. Also read a lot of fics by different writers/just read a lot of books in general too, figure out what makes your favorite writers’ work so special to you and figure out what you can adopt/learn from that. Also don’t worry too much about making everything perfect. This is something I’m constantly reminding myself of as well <3

💕 send me a fanfic writer emoji ask 💕

#kodi gets an ask

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therealfroggymagician · 1 year

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call that metalstuck.

HUGE shoutout to my friend @svetzzi for designing the symbols, they look awesome!! stuff about the au under the cut- its gonna be spoilers for the actual show and doomstar probably so

In order of blood caste:

Charles - burgundy blooded troll who supposedly died and is now back from the dead, he has glowing eyes and can communicate with the dead

Pickles - bronze blooded troll

Dick - mustard blooded troll who’s psychic powers malfunctioned when working with the band and exploded his eyes

Toki - mutant troll who’s blood is a mix of jade and olive, kept in the caverns all his life and raised on a lot of religion, much like canon the others in the cavern mistreated him

Skwisgaar - a cerulean troll with a wolf lusus that constantly ate people despite him hating that

Magnus - cerulean troll as well, eye got taken out by nathan during a fight between the two

Abigail - indigo blooded troll who used to serve under royalty

Murderface - purple blooded troll who was raised on killing people, his parental figures went out the same way they did in canon. sometimes mind controlled by salacia

Nathan - a seadweller who constantly hears the cries of sea creatures down below

#homestuck #metalocalypse #homestuck au #thefroggymagicianart

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flaray25 · 11 months

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I think someone of my online friends asked me this before...

How did you get your artstyle development/improved after all these years?

How did you start your own?

Have you been feeling okay?

Hows ur fanfics?

Are you going to continue?

Lets just say that it all started with a simple ship...

Since may 2020 got me to ship the most otp and most obsessing thing I can imagine...

[Which was you guessed it squidbob...]

And the time I joined Packet's server I felt inspired to draw squidbob.

I drew lots of them and lost of drafted things... i drew countless of them that I couldn't even caught up...

After all... I did read most of my favorite Squidbob fics from ao3 and wattpad which was: IWNBYF scabs the kid, always be yours by tragicclownwriters, I'm surrounded by (PatrickSexyLegs), Bikini Bottom Luau by MultiFandomWriter775, Cerulean Dreams by the_sparkling_abyss also known as (crybaby-139), A Boat to Remembering by RavenCreek [deleted], Accidetally in Love by ShadowAngel56, Only Sponge and Perfect date [collaborated with ShadowAngel56], also adding Artokaii for making Movie Night, Clouded Sunshine, and other of the fics :3

Other of the fanfics I fgt to mention from the squidbob ao3 they are also good as well. <kudos>

Except I dont fit right with nsfw part yep-

I'm reminding myself that this topic was focused for my artstyle improvement not the fics... I'M TOO DARN GIGGLING WITH WHAT I'M READING THEY'RE ALL TOO GOOD *eats*

Anyway- my improvement changed around 2022 - 2023

It started with one simple ship that started my WHOLE ASS career

I became more hyperfixated, delulu, feel like I'm losing it rn, and been writing stuff down from my drafts.

How'd it start my career?

Let's just say-

I created-

Siblings AU, Stoned AU, Legendary AU,Extra ordinary 2003 AU, Switched Universe AU, Past AU, The Other Future AU, The death of his AU, SpongeTale AU, Flowers AU, Agent AU, Mermaid AU, AlterEgo AU, Changed AU, Yandere AU (for some reason back at my Yandere Simulator era), Soft Universe AU, Forced Family AU, Zombie Apocalypse AU, Detecive Partners AU, Vampire AU, This Is Us AU, Gh0stB0b AU, The C0R3 AU, Future Next Gen AU, Transition AU, VillainBob AU, VillainBob 2.0 AU, SquidGame AU (for some SquidGame inspiration...), Guardian AU, Guardian AU (human version), Elliot AU, GhostBusters AU, Reality 4th AU [escape], Band AU, MiddleSchool AU, Future AU (2023), BodyGuard AU, Siren AU, L0ST AU (2 origins meets 1 mystery), Therapy AU, Musician AU, Rich AU, Mysterious Hero AU, Barista AU, Wrestling AU, T!m3Bre@ker AU, BabySitting AU, Quarantine AU, Experiment AU, Zombie AU, Poison Gas AU, Sanity AU, DON'T FORGET AU, Actor AU, AND ALSO! SquidPlusOne|C AU!

Some of those aus seem familiar to you guys and know about it. But in my own aus they're all plotted already and have completed stories now. [I just dont really write much fics cuz I'm very hyper fixated)

When it came to my mind that I've got a unique style, interest, and purpose, I've been doing alot of these fics and also drawing mostly in general. I never post much on tumblr (to avoid giving Nasty ass spoilers from other AUs and plots from my upcoming fics...

After years of my Digital arts/Traditionals of drawing and posting it here on my account... I'd like to say... Thank you so much for supporting and I'm really happy to get to stay here even if I don't interact in much.

I'm very happy and glad that most of you guys who've stayed and look at my posts for too long are literally the bomb.

I couldn't think of anything to say but a hundreds of thank yous :3 it's been so much and I will never forget the days people liked it. And even my improvement after joining this fandom.

I'm greatful to have you guys here supporting or respect or even listen to my lores, I don't even care if I'm not popular or well known person from the fandom. I just want someone to know, listen, and understand whatever I say or explain.

For the ask if 'I'm feeling well' well the neutral but also yes. Since this is the week where it's our last quarter clearance and next 3 months I'm gonna be in 3rd year highschool now... theres just a lot going on in my personal life and I don't wanna talk it out since they're all too sensitive.

It's better for me to start working again with these fics and art requests after our clearance check from school. It's hard to focus studying alongside minding another business with this as well. I gotta study harder next school year- tho I really hope I finish those drafted ones but new ideas come into my mind and I just wanna write it down!

With that thing on the way I'll do my best depends if I still visit here...

Some of you guys might or might not read this so I'm only posting this as my announcements or- something-

If some anon or someone asks me stuff from ask box I'd be very glad to answer! I don't really mind it since I don't talk to any other people here that much-

If someone asks "Octi? Are you going to leave this fandom in the future?" I mean it depends- the community of the Spongebob Fandom sometimes doesn't get that well with other people talking toxicity and mostly in twitter- people have their dislikes of 'shipping' an asexual main character Spongebob of the show.

Pssst @swagpolicerunaway thank you for staying here and I appreciate your stay man- stay cool as always 👉👉

And @3v3ry-freckle thx for reading my fics I know u read fics according to ur description hehe I'm glad people like you also read it too heheh

I mean some people have their own headcanons with a character- even if its announced already. People have their own point of view to that.

I did promise my own account here on tumblr that I'm staying in this fandom... We wont know until the future right? I'm staying here because I felt very open to my own lore and stuff, I'm also focusing on other fandoms that are popular and my studies as well.

But eh- it never hurts to stay here it makes me feel like a whole new person!

Plus I've got new online friends and other general friends who's also like me so theres no biggie problem heheh.

As long as I'm still here I get to share my own thoughts and stuff >:]

Btw there might be a fanfic I'll publish today since it's Fathers Day

🎶Every second that you see is,

Also yes I am continuing. Too much ideas from my hyperfixation? Yes.

With that further ado I gtg do something- see ya guys sometime if I update-

Twenty-four connected pieces,

Thank you for coming,

Thank you for staying,

Thank you for watching the show.🎶

[I love this song so much makes me remind of The Owl House since it ended]

#squidbob #spongebob #spongebob squarepants #squidward #squidward tentacles #spongeward #writing #spongebob au #fandomizer25

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 1 year

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Drummer!Ashton Masterlist

A Ticket to Another World (ao3) - lovealways1990 luke/ashton M, 29k

Summary: When a car crash erases Luke's memories, he wakes up in the year 2014. Only problem..his last memory - testing a new drummer for the band's first gig - is from 2011. Now, he's forced to rely on second-hand accounts and flashbacks to retrieve his memories. Not to mention the new drummer Ashton is making everything incredibly unsettling.

Comment, Like, Subscribe My Heart (ao3) - thesoulsailor michael/luke N/R, 54k

Summary: Youtube!AU in which Luke is a non-binary beauty guru, Michael is the lead singer of Ashton's cover band and Calum thinks gender roles are overrated anyways.

different? no thanks! (ao3) - orphan_account G, 923

Summary: When the band first offered me the drummer position, Ashton thinks, they should've told me it came with the 'caretaker of band/dad of band' role too.

Everything comes back to you... (ao3) - milecgv G, 11k

Summary: “So Cal, I think Ashton might have mentioned something about a gift? From us, to you?” He couldn’t keep his smile at bay while he talked and Calum really didn’t like where this was going.

“Yeah, he might have said something of the sorts…”

“Well, I think I found the perfect gift for you Cal.” He said, giving a small tug on the person’s sleeve and sending him a smile that Calum could only describe as encouraging.

As if in slow motion, Calum watched the man take a deep breath, turning around and punching all the air out of the brunette’s own lungs.

There, in the flesh, dressed in a black suit and tie, same sparkling cerulean eyes and beard instead of exposed tender skin, seventeen years older than the last time he’d seen him, was Luke fucking Hemmings.

i can dance to anything you wanna sing (ao3) - 5_es_oh_es (YouMakeMyHeartCry) michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 9k

Summary: "I think I swallowed a fly." He lied, working up the courage to look over again and yup, it was still there. It was a big sign, but simple, unlike most. Plain white card with two short words written in bold purple letters:

Blow job?

Or,

Calum is a bit of a big deal and Michael is a bit of a big dork and Ashton is a fantastic drummer and Luke is kind of just there (as always) and somehow they work.

If You Should Lose Your Way, I'll Be Right There If You Call Out My Name (ao3) - senioritastyles michael/calum, luke/ashton G, 2k

Summary: Michael may or may not be slightly drunk right now and he also may or may not be standing in a thirty-plus person line to buy a three dollar helium balloon at this music festival. It's some hipster California Coachella wannabe thing that Luke dragged him to because his "totally heart eyes dreamboat" boy-toy Ashton is the drummer of some underground indie band that's playing on the smallest stage possible.

Or: Michael spots Calum at a festival and is a little nervous to directly approach him so he finds another way to do it.

I’m Just The Drummer (ao3) - xdistorted_cliffordx luke/ashton T, 60k

Summary: Nobody ever gives a shit about the drummer.

Love Like This (ao3) - moonzafi michael/ashton G, 1k

Summary: Being the only female in a all male band is hard, but being the drummer in said band, is even harder.

But Ashley wouldn't change it for the world.

My Cobain Shirt (ao3) - unconditionalcalum michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 14k

Summary: the one where the shy boy with the bright hair (Michael) has a hopeless crush on the popular soccer-player-with-a-scholarship (Calum).

Sausage Roll (ao3) - cxmp michael/ashton T, 1k

Summary: Michael Clifford is the hottest and gayest delivery boy on Just Eat's payroll. Really, someone should have warned Ashton.

taking the long way home (ao3) - softirwin luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 5k

Summary: “May we have your attention for flight BA8227,” the tinny voice of the announcement says, and Ashton’s stomach sinks. They never announce anything he wants to hear; there’s never any we’ve upgraded hardworking and broke session drummer Ashton Irwin to first class, he’s also been given unlimited air miles and a refund on his overpriced tuna melt. “We are sorry to announce that this flight is delayed by approximately seven hours. This is due to unforeseen adverse weather conditions. I repeat-”

aka their flight is delayed au

The Rhythm Was All I Needed To Hear (ao3) - orphan_account calum/ashton E, 13k

Summary: "Ashton Irwin was a problem. To say him and Calum didn't get along was an understatement. Calum would grumble and grow sour every time he saw Ashton or whenever his name was mentioned. He couldn’t stand the guy."

Calum is on a summer program in a highly respected music school and he's over the moon. He's not over the moon he met Ashton in the process.

Trouble Is I Can't Find A Way (You're Part of Me) (ao3) - sunsetmagnolia luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 24k

Summary: Ashton didn’t know what to make of the thought that Luke was here. In his city. After all the effort he’d put into making sure they were a whole country away from each other for so many years.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5 seconds of summer #5sos #ashton irwin #drummer!ashton #drummer!ashton masterlist #masterlists

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aurea-fide · 1 year

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dash game;;

favourite colour(s)

all green tones and deep rich tones.

favourite flavour(s)

sweet, salty and savory. but i can NOT do spice. spice makes my stomach feel like shit and makes it impossible for me to finish eating anything. i have a very high metabolism and a small stomach.

favourite genre(s)

i science-fiction and fantasy are my main genres. i enjoy creating alien species and i enjoy just space travel in general. im in the process of building a modern au ( glances at Jorvek and his band of idiots ) so hopefully that will jump off too.

favourite music

i listen to whatever is on but i hate rap. and most hip-hop. i prefer Lo-Fi music and alternative music.

favourite movie(s)

lfuck i havent watched any movies recently. so uh, none?

favourite series

pfffft, same thing here. i haven’t read anything or watched anything in ages. so uh, i have none right now. but my go to series are usually para-romance, and sci-fi base.

last song

Last Word; Cerulean Skies. I finally found this instrumental I been looking for.

last series

ri been watching a lot of streamers youtube videos as of late; but an actual series was blishchen which is an minecraft builder. lots of relaxing music to listen to for building. ( have i been on a minecraft kick between rping? yes. )

last movie

hnnn Princess Bride I think?

currently reading

i know its some sort of writing help novel;; since im trying to focus enough to get a writing career off the ground. ( nghhh such a dreadful progress )

currently watching

youtube videos/streamers on twitch.

currently working on

uhhhh, potential references for a FF work i have in the background. and between that, some rp threads, some minecraft. im losing it.

tagged by: @eggsmuses tagging: YOU. There.

#x dash games #x i havent done a tagging for myself in ages.

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incorrectdwpquotes · 8 months

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[the band cerulean!au]

Miranda: [watching Andy play her guitar]

Miranda: You’re quite skilled.

Andy: Yeah? Well this guitar isn’t the only thing I’m good at fingering.

#the devil wears prada #incorrect quotes #incorrect dwp quotes #miranda priestly #andy sachs #mirandy #the band cerulean!au #guitarist!andy

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timeguardians · 6 months

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@tormentedsoldier (Titanic AU for Bucky & Rose - semi-plotted)

Cal's monolithic syllables weave together in an inbecilic blur. Stifled and trapped, Rose feels the insufferable room closing in on her with startling speed. A sense of PANIC rockets upwards, spiking from the heart to her throat with SUFFOCATING speed. The taste of it is acrid as it LINGERS upon the breadth of her tongue. And it BURNS until the only INSTINCT she has left is to FLEE, to put as much physical distance between her and her PRESENT company.

Her feet shuffle briskly from the STUFFY dinning room, and they gather momentum against the wooden decking until she is moving at an all out BOLT. The runaway heiress does not dare to break the cadence NOT even to avoid collision with a gentleman. That is, until she hits the STERNS railing.

The music of the dinner inside the marvelous ships doors is drowned, swallowed by the volumeous THRUM of CHURNING props. It's just as well!! The droning of the band only battered the remnants of her increasingly negative thoughts.

Not the salted-sea air, nor the romance of stricken moonlight upon the waves, can calm the turbulence in her soul. Eternity stretched on before her, more VAST and EMPTY -- much like the STARLESS night.

Rose's hands flare out in front of her, seizing hold of the frigid, freshly painted bars. Within seconds, she finds herself HOISTING herself upwards.

Standing upon the railing, she can almost feel the INCESSANT vibrancy of the VESSEL'S ENERGY. The contrast mangles quite easily with her own violent heartbeat.

Tearful cerulean orbs are cast DOWNWARDS, between sprays of copper-lashes, into the restless and foaming INDIGO seas. And for but a second, Rose dares to contemplate how welcoming a change that FALLING would be.

It is then, Rose becomes aware of a presence, an interloper on her solitude, hovering over her shoulder, just beyond her field of vision. "Don't come any CLOSER!" She hastily commands, though her voice does tremble with great agony.

#tormentedsoldier #titanic au #muse: rose dewitt bukater #tw: jumping #tw: negative thoughts #tw: depression #tw: suicidal ideation #let me know if this doesn't work for you

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thelemoncoffee · 4 years

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IT'S HIM

Cerulean! (Band Au Shuichi)

i know he looks really fucking different, but that was the goal. We wanted to see how far we could go with band designs without it becoming imposible for the characters to do.

The band is ment to be like a double life thing, so we thought of ways they could alter their appearances without it getting to complex; aside from outfits they consist of washout hairdye, straightening/spiking/general hair restyling, and stage makeup.

We also made a logo for the band (which is also what's on Shuichi's shirt)

this au wasn't meant to get as far as it did really but we're having a blast with it now that it has

Here, if you wanna see the main post

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #shuichi saihara #danganronpa band #band au #cerulean

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harveywritings92 · 3 years

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BNHA Vampire soulmate au: they feed off you for the first time.

They explain to you how blood tastes to them and enjoy a meal...

Tw: Blood drinking, heavy petting

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Hawks: It's been a year you and Keigo seem to be together, you've been talking about moving in together anywho, You got a paper cut and Keigo who was crashing at your placed smelled it from your living room, he nearly gave you a heart attack when you turned around to see him standing behind you, his gold eyes had red tinge as he eyed your finger like a like man who hasn't eaten in a week. "Ey, there I thought you've already had enough to drink today?" you were referring to the black and red sports bottle he'd brought with him. "I did, It's just- You have no Idea how hard I've been holding back, your blood it does something to me..." Keigo husked eyes locked on the crimson nectar dripping down your hand he was salivating and swallowed hard. "My blood...does it smell good?" you asked timidly.

The blond snapped out of his trance. "Petal, you smell like ripe strawberries and chocolate to me..." Keigo has already told you how smoker's blood smells and taste to him, well you now you were curious about non-smokers, and asked if blood type also has an effect on the blood's flavor? the winged vamp was happy to answer!

Smokers: Charcoal/moldy bread.

Drunks: depends on how drunk they are, it's somewhere between hard soda and hard wine or liquor.

Drug users: no idea, he says they smell like rotten eggs, and he's seen how loopy other vamps act after feeding on them and stays clear of them.

Sick/injured: He stays away from sick people but they smell like a cross between a hospital or a funeral home.

Virgins: sweet/tart like fruit-punch.

regular folks: like Sangria the fruitiness is still there but it's mixed with bitter wine .

"Blood types don't really change up the flavors, but I've noticed type As have a spice to them, Bs start off sour, and type Os are pretty mellow." You hummed very intrigued at what you were hearing then, noticed Keigo was still eyeing your finger, like a starved animal, you looked down at the cut then back Keigo and noticed his wings were tense and he was clenching his jaw, after some thought you sighed you held your hand out to him. "Go head before your jaw breaks" His wings bristled. "I'm not some desperate leech y'know." he huffed you shrugged and went to went to put a band-aid on, but Keigo stopped you.

"Let's not be hasty here..." He stammered out at you cocked a brow at him. "Yer really giving me mixed signals here." you huffed did he want your blood or not? " Um... Are you sure about this?" he said blush adoring his cheeks. "I'm just letting you suck my finger...Why are you acting like I just asked you to pop my cherry?" Keigo's face was as red as a cherry as you said this. "Because you essenually are..." He explained the big difference between mates and prey, on instinct he wouldn't give a crap about some rando he picked up off the street or whatever mystery pack the commission gives him, but you...

You're his soulmate, his fated one... and right now your pretty much telling him to make you his! He's not gonna stop at your finger, once he's had a taste he's going for your neck! And once he bites you that's it, you have his mark forever, You paused absorbing what the blond male just told you...Well, he hardly leaves you alone already might as well go all in? "Do it." Hawks's eyes were red now. "Come" he hissed sitting across from you and gesturing to sit in his lap.

You complied and watched Keigo warily as he brought your finger to his mouth, immediately you felt a shock go through you the second Keigo's tongue started lapping at the cut, he moaned tasting your blood for the first time. He was right you tasted every bit as sweet as he thought you would...*more...more...* his monster groaned euphorically he felt the cut on your finger close from his saliva's healing properties.

Keigo's eyes drifted towards your neck, You gasp feeling his grip on your hand tighten before his free hand found it's way behind your head, you tensed seeing Keigo's fangs elongate but before he could pierce your neck he smelled your distress.

His rough hold on you suddenly slacked and his hands lowered to your hips his thumbs gently rubbed you sides as he left little kisses and nip along your jaw before you calmed down enough to trust Hawks wasn't gonna tear your throat out. "Just relax." he cooed kissing you neck a couple more times like a countdown. one...two... three!

You tried not to scream as you felt his fangs pierce your neck, your fingers gripped his jacket as you felt yourself be drained... then like a switch had been slowly tuned the pain tuned into pleasure? moans started sneaking their out from your mouth which confused you, the blond vampire groaned in ecstasy at how rich your blood tasted with lust mixed in he buck his hips against you, after what seemed like hours Keigo's fangs finally retracted from your flesh and lap at the two holes he left on your neck, they sealed as you whimpered weakly Keigo just shushed and you. "It's alright kid, you did good" he cooed kissing your head as you started drifting out of consciousness.

When you woke up your head was pounding like a bad hangover Keigo was cradling you in his lap looking relieved and sheepish, he explained he went a little overboard with his drinking and venom dosing and you got drunk on him and passed out! you must've looked panicked cos Keigo assured you were completely fine, the venom isn't lethal... (To you anyways, one of the benefits of being a vampire's soulmate.) Though you might be a bit feverish and cranky for the next couple days.

----------------------------------------------------

Dabi: You were on your period so yes Dabi's self restraint was breaking! you had no fucking idea what you blood was doing to him you smelled like a 5 star meal and all he could do was sit and drown in his own drool and watch you, like a hawk as you moaned and groaned about cramps and ruining your pajama shorts when you woke up this morning! a low growl escaped the faux raven haired vamp when he saw you toss out a bag with said aforementioned shorts, it took every nerve in him not to run after the garbage truck like a starved dog! before something you said snapped him out of his trance. "hn...What ya say?" he looked at you drinking his third pack of cow's blood.

"I asked if my blood smells good and what does it taste like?"

"I wouldn't know haven't tasted yours yet..."

"Well, what about anyone else's?"

"Why are you suddenly interested?"

You huffed "Sorry for wanting to know you..." and were about to tell him to forget it, when the the undead cremator spoke up. "Mocha mixed wit' something spicy like cinnamon or rum" he muttered not looking at you. Of course you cocked a brow now intrigued, now that that was out of the bag he might as well tell ya the rest.

Smokers: burnt rubber/earwax (eh, everyone was a kid once, had to know what that gunky crap in your ear tasted like.)

Drunks: Depends on how much they've drank, it could between hard water to straight up red wine.

Drug users: the one time he fed on one he thought they were just a pothead, but in turned out they had ate a few shrooms which made them kinda taste like... orange juice and black liquorice?... Honestly he can't give a straight answer, as he was too busy trippin out on another plain of existence to remember.

Sick/injured: doesn't feed off the sick, but they smell like a hospital or a morgue.

Virgins: like apples and honey

Regular folks: they taste like Apple cider.

Animal blood: kinda tastes like artificial cherry cough syrup, and he hates it!

"Then why do you drink it?" you gulped seeing his cerulean eyes flash red for a brief second as he locked eyes with you. "Why?...*growl* your standing in front of me smelling like a walking buffet and you have to gall ask me why I drinking this crap?!" he snapped crushing the blood pack in his hand as you started backing away, you were nervous that only fueled Dabi's sadistic side you learned early that he enjoyed agitating you via flashing his fangs, popping behind you out of seemingly nowhere, and faking you out.

I.E. making it seem like he was gonna bite you then blow air in your ears before walking away laughing at your reaction, something about putting you on edge and having your adrenaline pumping through your veins adds more "spice" to your scent, it happens so often that Dabi started noticing arousal was mixing in with your fear, you bet your ass he started mocking you for getting off on him scaring you.

Of course right now you weren't sure if he was seriously mad, or making fun of you again? He was not making fun of you again he was seriously pissed off, The nerve of you walking around asking him about useless crap, and offering him nothing in return! Dabi had you backed against a wall face buried in your shoulder you felt him sniffing you and flinched you felt him nipping along your neck, and like all the other times he's riled you he smelled that that little speck of arousal through the fear.

He let out a low chuckle causing you to to become fed up, you though he was screwing with you again! "Goddamm-.hm!" You were cut off by sharp yelp as Dabi's fang suddenly pierced your neck! oh god it hurt! you whimpered tried shoving Dabi off! he groaned pushing your back against the wall, suddenly your body felt weird... you moaned it was hot and and everything felt sensitive...

You barely registered Dabi lifting your legs up you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, he let out a low purr and his demeanor became less angry and forceful, his shoulders relaxed as his hands gently rubbed your legs, after what seemed like hours Dabi finally pulled away from your neck lapping at the pin holes he left on, he checked on you only to find you passed out his eye had a rare tenderness to them as he eyed your flushed appearance. "Well aren't you high maintenance." he cooed his thumb caressing you chin before taking you to bed.

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Bakugou: He didn't want say what you smelled like to him as it made him look soft, he finally cracks after more poking a prodding. "If I fucking do will you shut up and let me sleep?!" he hissed it was 8: 47 p.m. and he was tired which confused you, the sun was still out and you could hear kids playing in the streets outside. You heard a angry growl Katsuki's ears were pink. "S'mores...you smell like S'mores, happy?" he groaned when you started shaking him, no point in trying to sleep now that he's lit the fuse! He gave you the sum up of what blood tastes like to him.

Smokers: old news paper and figs.

Drug users: No clue stays clear of them, they smell like pickled eggs.

Drunks: Somewhere between hard water and flavored vodka.

Virgins: Why would you want to kno-... arhg! Coffee and vanilla!

Regular folks: Irish coffee and bitter mint.

Then you you started asking about blood types and what it was when he drank, Next thing you knew Katsuki let out this frustrated bellow! You yelped as he grabbed your wrists and pinned you under him. "You wanna know what it feels like?" you sheepishly mumbled a meek "yes" but the blonds red eyes narrowed. "Hah? say that again I couldn't hear ya?" he jeered trying to get you to use your voice, you repeated "Yes" again a bit more forceful as the ash blond unbuttoned the shirt he let you borrow exposing your neck to him.

Katsuki frowned he could smell your reluctance, then grumbled in annoyance as he recalled Shitty-hair's advice ""Take it slow, be gentle..."" He took a deep breath and carefully buried his face in you neck, You flinched expecting him to clamp down, giving how much you annoyed him, but to your surprise; Katsuki instead opted to started leaving kisses along your jaw and collar bone.

You bit back a moan when he found you sweet spot and causing Katsuki to smirk if wasn't so hungry and tired right now, he might've taken this much farther, but the mouthwatering scent of your blood calling him was too much to pass up. "I'm gonna do it" he husked as you nodded and with that, Katsuki's fangs pierced your neck.

You gasped in pain felling them puncture your skin as Katsuki grasped your hand, the blond groaned in euphoria your blood tasted every bit as rich and sweet as he thought it would, he could smell your discomforted and on instinct inject a doses of his venom into your bloodstream in minutes your blood's flavor intensified with added lust, your tiny moans and whimpers were music to his hears, soon his instincts were warning him stop.

Katsuki's fangs retracted he lapped at the punctures he left on your neck, before pulling away to look at you and snorted you were a flushed out mess. "That sate your curiosity?" he huffed fixing your shirt you tried to say something but were too exhausted to say anything tangible, the ash blond chuckled and settled down next to you for the night.

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#boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha soulmate au #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami #Dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #bnha vampire au

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