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myouicieloz · 29 days

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Under the Moonlight

Ning Yizhuo x Reader

Synopsis: you and ning have been best friends ever since you could remember. but she’s been distant lately, and you can’t help but wonder where does she go to every single night.

Warnings: cnc (? maybe?). smut. nsfw.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I’m trying to get into darker themes for 2024. writing different prompts, challenging myself. I apologize if I it’s off putting. pls say something if it is!

Ning Yizhuo was a good girl.

She never skipped classes, never talked back or raised her voice at elders, never missed a day of bible school, and never forgot to flicker the lights in her room whenever you were going to sleep.

Yet, she earned for more.

She was ambitious. Has always been, ever since she was a little girl. She’s had this feeling in her chest for ages, a clear warning that she was born in the wrong place: she didn’t belong in this small town, surrounded by rich fuckers that did nothing but label people and gossip all day. She was more than a close-knit community that lived off balls and charity events to make up for the fact that everyone who lived there were scrumptious, vile people. Those people did not represent herself at all.

Someday, she’d be truly free of the chains that tied her to this place.

For now, she was content enough with adjusting the helmet in her head, hopping on her bike to seek things that would make her forget about the life she lived, even if just for one night.

—

“And where is Mrs. Yizhuo once again, Y/n?” Your teacher’s voice echoed harshly from behind you, as you positioned your hands on the piano to start your lesson for the day.

“She’s sick, Mrs. Lee.” You straighten your posture, hoping to get more credibility. “She took many meds this morning. I think she’ll be sleeping all day to recover. I’m sorry.”

The teacher gives you a knowing look, but says nothing once you begin to practice the same songs over and over, until your fingers hurt from the repetitive movements.

You send Ningning several messages as soon as the woman looks away. She’s your best friend, of course you’d cover for her even without her asking for it. Although you don’t think she cares, anyway.

She’s been acting so different lately. Like somebody else; a different girl, different person. It was as if you didn’t know her at all.

You’ve been next-door neighbors ever since you could remember, always there for each other. That, along with the fact that your parents are part of a close-knit friend group that has been friends ever since high-school, made it easy for her to be your other half, your soulmate. Her house was right next to yours, and you’ve developed a habit of checking if her room had the lights on whenever you were anxious. Ning was your best friend, and you did everything together: from hanging out at each other’s houses to attending choir and piano lessons every single day.

That was until she changed. Suddenly, she was distant: disappearing out of nowhere, not answering any of your calls and texts all day and coming back dirty, sweaty and breathless — her hair stinking with smoke. The only thing you could rely on was the flickering of her bedroom lights, every single day when the clock hit your bedtime. You were rigid with your routine, and Ning knew that. She’s never missed it, and it comforted your heart, somehow. To know that deep inside, she was still your Ningning.

You often had to make up lies wherever you went, making up endless excuses for her absences, but at some point, it got unsustainable— she stopped showing up, without saying anything to anyone. Ning wore all black, with tight skirts and black stockings, and often had a bored look on her face, silently challenging anyone to come at her and say something.

No one ever did, obviously. People merely stared as she passed by, disdain etched on their faces.

You knew she hated living in a small city, although, you didn’t mind living so yourself. There was something comforting in knowing everyone, and oddly enough, you felt safe to feel there was always a pair of eyes watching out for you — not watching you, no. Well, people could do that, too: be excessively mean and controlling at times, but you know how to set your boundaries well. You played your part, being a former straight A student who was now attending the local university, with plans to join your step-father at the architecture company he owned, once you were done with your studies. You had been the perfect little debutant, and could always be found next to your friends or your parents at the charity events and lavish galas hosted by the community. You couldn’t say it wasn’t suffocating at times, but it wasn’t like you completely hated it.

Clearly, you were unable to say the same for Ningning. What had stirred this change inside of her? Your chest burned every time you thought about it, eager to know. You yearned to be a part of her life again, yet a small part of your brain was too afraid to ask her about it, knowing she’d answer you wholeheartedly.

You hated the change. You missed your best friend too much. You missed the old her.

The Ning who would flick her lights to let you know she was there, whenever it was time for you to go to sleep. The Ning who let you cry on her shoulder for hours at your grandfather’s funeral. The Ning who would attend the school games to see you cheer, who stood by your side when your dad left, and who washed all of your fears away when your mother remarried.

That was your soulmate; the Ningning who was always there for you. Not the reckless girl with a blank face who didn’t seem to care about a single thing.

Although, you were beginning to think you did not know her at all.

—

“Can I come?” You ask, trying to suppress a shiver as the wind blows cold against your body. It had certainly not been the best idea to wear a white, short dress with even tinier undershorts and boots in autumn, but you couldn’t think about anything else to put on.

With only a leather jacket to warm off your body, your eyeliner, smudged, dark makeup and heavy jewelry mirrored the girl standing in front of you, and you can’t help but smile.

You’d fit in well.

“Excuse me?” Ningning exclaims, frowning in disbelief.

“I want to come with you.” You repeat yourself, holding your own hands nervously. “You’ve changed, Ning. I’m not stupid… I just want to understand. Would you show it to me, please?”

You hate the way she’s looking at you, like she’s still deciding whether to allow yourself into her new world. You also hate the way your voice cracks, always vulnerable when it comes to her.

After minutes of staring, Ning decides to give you a chance. Shrugging, she leaves you alone on the sidewalk as she returns to her garage, shoving a helmet into your chest.

“Fine. But say anything funny, and I’ll leave you there alone. Got it?” You nod, trying not to feel hurt by her indifference towards you.

After a few clumsy attempts, you manage to hop in on her fancy bicycle, hands trapped tightly on her thin waist. You often spied on Ning going out with a dark motorbike you were sure her parents hadn’t bought her. However, as the two of you go at full speed through the night, you feel like you understand her a little better: it’s so freeing, to just ride on the freeway as the wind messes up your hair. You laugh, hugging her tighter, the only thought crippling your mind being over how beautiful the moon looked in the cloudless night, alone in all its glory.

Before you register, Ningning parks her bike carefully. If not for the fact that the place was absolutely crowded, you wouldn’t be able to tell this was the place she’s been sneaking out too frequently. It’s simple: just many cars parked in a circle, occupying the large freeway as people stand against them like ants. You guess someone must’ve blocked the way so no unwanted cars would drive by, but that was a lucky guess.

Nevertheless, you’re struck by a sudden heat wave — being surrounded by a fairly large, energetic crowd was enough for you to feel your face getting warmer, much to your liking. The atmosphere was lively, electricity hanging in the air almost palpably. It was as if everyone were anticipating, waiting for something, and you were nearly sure Ning was involved in that.

“There.” She motions to the right area of the crowd, waving to someone unknown to you. “Let’s go.”

You try to act cool as she grabs your hand to guide you through the crowd, failing terribly. The truth is, it’s been months since she’s talked to you, touched you properly. Perhaps you missed Ningning much more than you could admit, judging by the serotonin boost you’d gotten by a mere touch from her.

Ning stops in front of a black Dodge, where three girls stand with bored looks. They’re all wearing black and red, in some sort of subtle color coordination. You notice Ning’s outfit follows the theme, too, her crimson crop top standing out from her black pants and leather jacket.

“You’re late, Ningning.” Giselle says, not bothering to look at you as she chews on her gum, hands brushing her hair ever so flawlessly. She’s beautiful — they all are, and there’s something in the way they pose; as if they’re royalty around the place.

“Hello to you too, Gigi.” Ning answers her, not affected by her dismissal in the slightest. Your best friend gestures to the other girls, then, giving your hand a squeeze. Even though it wasn’t needed anymore, she was still holding on to you. “Those are Karina and Winter.” They bow slightly, acknowledging your presence. “Girls, this is Y/n”.

The trio share a knowing look at the mention of your name. As if a spell had been cast upon them, the girls are all over you, swirling, giggling and speaking all at once.

“It was about time we met you, Y/n”. Winter giggles, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder.

“Right?” Giselle shakes her head, suddenly interested in the conversation, with her condescending tone. “Took Ningning long enough to bring you to the Underworld.”

The Underworld. The name alone is enough for you to shiver, shrinking under your oversized jacket. Like a reflex, you turn to your best friend, brows furrowed and mind seeking for answers. “The Underworld?”

As soon as she opens her mouth to explain, she’s dragged away by Karina, who sighs. “Tell her all about it later, Ningning. Giselle was right, you really are late, and we have to enroll you in today’s race right now.”

Ning stares at Winter with a serious look, waiting until the bob-haired girl nods to leave. “Take care of her while I’m gone.” Shooting you an apologetic look, Ning follows Karina to the heart of the crowd, not at all uncomfortable as you lose her amidst the sea of unknown faces.

You’ve been warned about such places before, ones where people go to lose themselves and do things they shouldn’t. Even though it’s dark, you’re able to see what every group is occupying themselves with, always good to notice details in a crowd. Some drinking, smoking, others doing drugs that were too explicit for such an open space. Many people acted borderline pornographic, too, engaged in heavy make out sessions and touching places that had you looking away, too embarrassed to lurk.

“I’ll go breathe some air.” You tell Winter, who’s now sitting on the hood of the car, furiously typing on a computer as big as her head. She must’ve grabbed it from the passenger’s seat while you were busy looking around, horrified.

You expect her to protest, specially since Ning had been clear in her words, but the small girl doesn’t even look at you for more than three seconds before answering, still heavily focused on the screen that lights her face. “Okay.”

Before she’s even finished, you turn around and dodge people as best as you can, barging towards the woods located on the edge of the road without hesitation. You walk until the lively event is just a faint noise, crippling your ears like a bug on a hot, sticky day.

Now, being able to breathe the cold air of the night properly and free from the demons of the night, you try to understand your best friend. Ning has always been a free spirit, independent and strong-willed. But, while her wild nature did stir up some trouble in your community, she’s always been welcomed and loved. That’s how a family worked, right? You might fight, but you also sort things out, eventually.

The sound of dry leafs being stepped on startles you, but you’re soon at ease once you see Ningning’s silhouette coming out of the darkness. She sits by your side, both looking at the moon instead of facing each other.

She must be afraid too, you reckon. Of you judging her choices, turning your back on her like her family did, the moment she changed her attitude.

Well, you did judge, but you’d never leave her alone. You love her too much to do so, even if you couldn’t quite understand her ulterior motives.

Ning looks beautiful under the moonlight, her long hair shiny as she plays with her own fingers, hesitant to speak up. Her hair is one of the last things she’s kept true to herself after this sudden change. You let your hands run through, reminiscing the times when, not matter how impatient, she’d let you comb and style it.

Such memories must’ve been going through her mind, too, in a reassurance of the bond you shared. Gathering courage, she turned her face to you, smiling faintly.

“Illegal fights and street races. That’s what we do here in the underworld, that’s what it’s about.” Ning keeps you from interrupting her, already aware of what you’re going to ask. “I’ve seen people do some darker shit, yeah, like drugs and stuff, but the girls and I stay far away from that. It’s not something you can deal with without falling into a hole, you know. And I’m not trying to dig myself a grave or anything.”

You breathe in deeply, acknowledging everything she’s said. It’s like you’re walking on thin ice: one phrase worded wrongly, and she’d shut herself off from you for good.

So you choose the safest route. “And… the girls? You, hm, you all race?”

Ning relaxes instantly at your words. Her shoulders fall off, glad you didn’t start screaming at her or trying to brainwash her guts. She expected a far worse reaction.

Shaking her head, her tone is a little more excited as she answers. “I’m the only racer of the group. Giselle fixes the mechanics, Winter does the stats, and Karina handles the bets and closes off the deals. They are my girls, Y/n. My family.”

You stand up, unconsciously walking around in little circles as you tried to think of the right words to not scare off your best friend. The truth is, this whole Underworld thing was not only scary — it terrified you to know Ning had found herself in such a place. She needed to think through all of this situation, and realize she was losing herself badly, walking into a path set for destruction. She needed help, and she so desperately needed to come to her true senses. You had to save Ning from herself, and you’d do just that.

“We’ll take you back.” The words come out without you really thinking through, not at all as careful as you wish to be. You turn around completely to face Ning, only to find her already staring, her big eyes as cloudy as ever. “We know you’re sorry, Ning, it’s ok. Just… let us go back, then it will all be just like before.”

She lifts her brows, and she takes a few steps towards you, not stopping until you’re trapped, back hitting the trunk of a tree.

“I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, Y/n.” She’s angry, and you hate seeing her mad. Specially at you. Ning never got mad at you. “I’m sorry that we were born in this shitty ass town with so many rich fuckers, and I’m sorry that stupid community has brainwashed you so much they can control you as they please. I apologize for being distant because I know it hurts you, but besides that, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

She’s breathless from speaking with such fervor, both of her hands placed on each of your sides so you have no way of escaping.

And even though you gulp, you force your body to not have any fear. It’s Ningning: your best friend, your soulmate. She’d never hurt you.

She’d never.

“Ning.” You look down, failing to hide the tremor in your voice. “Ning, let me go.”

Something in her eyes shift the moment she noticed the fear in your voice. Her pupils are wide blown, and her smile is just wrong, staring at you from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the wind messing with your very short dress, and how hot you feel, despite the cool weather.

Somehow, you get the feeling she’s thinking the same thing, too. Time stops as her eyes fall to your lips, and she’s on top of you in a blink. Kissing, tugging, licking… Ning’s desperation is something you can taste, and it’s written all over. This kiss is not like the sweet, chaste experiences you’ve had before. Ning kisses you like a woman starved, taking until there’s no air left, and your lungs are burning, claiming for relief.

Her kiss is venomous, so sinful you fear what you’d do if you experience it again.

“W-what the fuck, Ning! Why’d you do that?” You manage to say, crossing your arms over your chest to try to get some distance between you. “This wrong, Ning. This isn’t y—“

“Did they send you here?” She ignores your words completely, hands assaulting your body as you move against her. “Is that it? Are they that fucking desperate, really?”

Perhaps you’re weak, maybe she’s been putting some work in the gym, but the truth is she doesn’t move an inch, no matter how much try to pull her away. If anything, it only brings her closer to you, that wicked smirk still on her face.

“What? They… no! Of course not. I came because I want to understand you.” Her accusations hurt, even though you know she’s not entirely wrong. The truth is, Ning’s too smart for her own good.

Surprisingly, her fingers are delicate as they brush one of your shoulders, playing with your dress sleeve before letting it slide midway, enough for it to expose yourself to the dark night. You shiver, not only due to the winds that cause your nipples to harden, but also because of the girl who stares at you like a woman starved. She’s salivating, and you watch her every breath until she lowers her head and latches her mouth onto one of your boobs, her teeth teasingly picking on your nipples.

It’s as if you’ve been electrocuted. Your back arches, and you try even harder to let go of the hand that’s keeping yours clasped together so tightly it hurts, but you can’t set yourself free. Did her touches always feel like that? So wrong, yet so… good, you look forward to more?

“Stop, p-please. Ning, my b-boyfriend…” It’s all you’re able to mutter, choosing to keep your mouth shut. You’re too afraid of the sounds that might come out of your lips if you continue speaking.

You’ve never felt like this before. This tingling sensation, erupting to all your body — specially to your core. The warmth that eloped your body like you were too close to the sun. It felt good, Ning’s touches are so good you _itch_ with need.

It’s no surprise you’ve touched yourself before. You were no saint, either. However, it has never felt anything close to that. You would never be able to mimic Ning’s hands, cupping your breasts, pinching your waist, forcefully opening your legs to keep her knee seated between them… all while still trapping you, the burning sensation in your hands serving as a lively reminder of the situation you were currently in.

“Your boyfriend, yes. That fucking idiot.” Ning’s hands go straight to the hem of your shorts, forcing them down. “He’s never touched you like that, right Y/nnie? Surely, you’d tell me. I’m your best friend, after all.”

Tears start to cloud your vision as her hands pull down your shorts, fingers going all the way under your dress to find the bare skin of your abdomen. She scratches it slightly, even though you find yourself still struggling vigorously against her touches.

“Ning, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sorry, please s-stop…” Ning huffs, annoyed by your attempts to get her off you.

“No, Y/n. I know exactly what I’m doing.” She laughs as her teeth scratch your shoulder, and then she bites. It’s so unexpected you scream, ashamed to admit that her harsh touches are the reason your insides are embarrassingly wet. “I bet you’ve touched yourself thinking of me, too. God, Y/n. You act like you’re this good little example to others, but I know you better than anyone. You’re such a dirty, hungry whore.”

Ning’s salivating, her wet mouth leaving a trail of saliva on your skin as you stop moving against her chest. Instead, you let your head rest on the corner of her neck, biting your mouth so hard you feel the metallic taste of blood in your tongue. Ning notices it, too — her eyes have never stopped observing you attentively, not from the moment she’s met you for the first time. Grabbing your neck possessively, she pulls you in for another hungry, aggressive kiss, her tongue forcing its way over your mouth until your taste was all hers to delight herself with, too.

Without an alibi to hide your pleasure, you moan against her lips, chest moving rapidly with the adrenaline. You feel her smile, too.

This doesn't seem right, in any way. Your best friend, forcing you to surrender against her wishes and talking to you like you were nothing… it is all wrong, deeply wrong.

But why is she making you feel so alive? Why is the burning sensation that expands over every inch of your skin so addicting?

If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?

“Does he touch you like this?” Ning asks with a sultry tone, as her fingers toy with your folds. The anticipation drives you insane, only intensifying your arousal. You gasp at the sensation of her fingers in your cunt, hovering and so close to where you need her. Your silence irritates her, clearly. “Answer me, whore.”

Her hands, God — her hands leave your cunt so quickly and reach out for your throat, squeezing on your pulse point with such precision you nearly cum on the spot. You feel lightheaded, unable to think about anything but how alive Ning makes you feel. In fact, it’s her touches that ground you again, reminding you of what is happening.

She kisses your jaw, her tone dripping with fake-sweetness as she murmurs. “Tell me what I already know, Y/n. Say it.”

With that, you’re aware of your current situation: Ning’s getting inside your head, distracting you with pleasure until you’re dumbed down enough to surrender to her wishes.

When did she become so evil?

“Stop— touching me.” You say, turning your head away from her. Still, you can’t help but obey, even though your voice is barely audible as you add. “You know the answer, already.”

Ning’s hand slides through your body, taking her time to grope, scratch and pinch as she pleases until she’s cupping your cunt again, her motion too sweet for the harsh way she’s been acting towards you. Two of her fingers go to your slit, taking all the air from your longs as she shoves them in and out slowly, savoring the sensation both for herself and for you. And you’re _wet_ — so much her fingers slide easily, despite your lack of experience. It’s as though time had stopped: the animals have stopped making noises, the wind has stopped humming and all the people at the street have quieted. All you can hear is Ning’s breathing, just as erratic as you, and the lewd sounds coming out from your cunt.

It feels so good, you wonder how you've lived all this time without Ningning touching you like that. Like you were a secret gemstone she was more than ready to unravel.

“If you want me to stop touching you, then why are you so fucking wet?” She asks, cocky as you whimper under her. Your legs feel like jelly, and suddenly you’re so glad for the tree you’re relying on, and Ning’s leg between your thighs, forcing them open. “No, Y/n. You know damn well what you want. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” Her following words are what break you. As your thumb meets your clit, she adds, “You’re as rotten as me, filthy girl. I just choose not to run from myself anymore.”

You want to deny it. There’s nothing more you want than to pull Ning back and scream at her face, talking about how insufferable she’s become and how much of an asshole she was. But your brain has long been turned into mush, focused on only one thing: gathering the crippling sensation that was forming in your lower abdomen and let it explode, turning it into a mind-blowing wave of pleasure. It’s all you’ve ever wanted: to cum. Nothing else really matters.

You don’t even recognize yourself, clinging onto Ning as if your life depended on it. Her skilled fingers don’t stop their motion on your slit as her thumb applies more pressure to your clit, circling it harshly, so fast it makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull with pleasure. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: every inch of your body boils, and you’ve never wanted so bad to just explode.

Faint screams fill the background, with Ning’s name being called repeatedly, surely from the girls looking for her. However, you don’t pay them any mind. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are loud, sinful moans — the most beautiful melody to Ning’s ears.

“N-ning…” You whine, carving your nails onto your best friend’s skin. Sweat gathers in your forehead as you feel your orgasm close, but you’re too stubborn to say anything to her.

Ning knows you well, though. Your muscles tense, and you cum as she keeps her strokes hard and fast, just what you need to explode into waves of pleasure. It hits so good you scream, legs shaking as she holds you as if you weight nothing, keeping you from falling onto the dust. White dots dance around your vision, fireworks exploding inside you as the orgasm washes through your body, in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

It was borderline addicting.

“Ningning! There you are, fucker. We’ve been looking for ages.” Karina’s body appears from the darkness, her impeccable frame easy to distinguish from anything else. You’re so fucked out it takes you a few seconds to register her presence; by then, Ning has already covered you, adjusting your dress back on with precise movements. “Don’t be irresponsible just because of some pussy, dude! You’re up in five, come on.”

You don’t miss the way Karina’s eyes stare at your body, not an ounce of shame in her pretty face. However, you don’t feel ashamed to have her attention on you. If anything, you can feel your face blushing, your body slowly feeling hot again.

Lust is a dangerous thing, indeed.

Ning doesn’t miss Karina’s cue either, judging by the way she scoffs. Dismissing her with an annoyed tone, Ning mutters, “I said I was coming.” She gestures to the trees and the wild bushes, then. “You can lead the way.”

Karina laughs, not missing her last opportunity to address you, as she turns around and waves. “Bye, Y/n. I hope you’re around more often.”

You giggle, too, amazed by how she camouflages herself so easily, lost amidst the night and the forest.

Still, the girl in front of you captures all of your attention. Like always, she’s already staring, her brown hair messy from your making out.

“This is the real world, Y/n. I’m not going back.” She says, not leaving any space for discussion. You know that tone too well; Ning’s already made her choice, and it wasn’t the one you wanted her to pick. With big, sad eyes, she adds, “I wish you would free yourself, too.”

Her delicate tone breaks your heart. Deep down, you know she means it. Ning’s following what she believes in, and she wishes she could share her world with you, too.

She walks away without looking back, sure of who she was and what she wanted for her future.

With a heavy sigh, you follow her towards the highway once again.

You’d follow her through it all.

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slayfics · 27 days

Note

If you don’t mind me dropping a request for Katsuki headcanons then here I am…

(I know I’m in a whole other famdom right now and I don’t even simp for Bakugo (he’s yours he’s yours, I got a dif man 😉) but I’m bored and this is just an idea)

So.. what if Bakugo was dating a y/n that was just as much of an idiot as Kaminari 😥

If you haven’t done this already -

Katsuki dating a silly reader.

700 words~

Katsuki pretends to be annoyed by your air headedness but actually finds it adorable. He feels responsible for watching out for you.

He is quick to tell off anyone who insults you.

He secretly loves that you get along well with his friends.

However, he is insecure about the way Kirishima and Kaminari can have you rolling in laughter effortlessly. He won't ever mention it but it's apparent by the pout he has any time you're laughing at Kaminari's newest joke.

He loves the way you can cut through his seriousness and bring whimsy to his life. He doesn't know what he'd do without you. Heck, probably never smile again.

He is quick to catch you with any mistakes you make, albeit he scolds you for it.

He is overly tough with you when you spar, but it's only because he wants you to be as strong as you can be to take out any villains you face.

Katsuki's friends are constantly blown away by the things you get him to agree to do. Shopping at a dumb mall? Fine, he'll hold your bags. Going to an amusement park with way too many screaming kids? "Fine- if you really want to go." Singing along to a cheesy ass song? Mmm maybe, don't press your luck too far...

You brought back your food and sat at the outside table of the sports bar rejoining the boys. Music played as different sports ball games played on the various screens outside.

"Tch- why'd you two choose this place anyway? None of us give a damn about these games," Katsuki said huffing and gesturing to the TVs.

"It's the only place that's in the middle of all our places," Denki explained, as you began to take bites of your food.

"Mmm I guess- the food is shit though," Katsuki continued to complain but took a bite of his food all the same.

The song changed to an easily recognizable tune: Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler. Your and Eijiro's eyes immediately locked. The first verse synced up between the both of you as you sang.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit lonely

And you're never coming 'round

"No, stop." Katsuki huffed at you both beginning to sing. However, Katsuki's annoyance was only met with Denki joining in on the next verse.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit tired

Of listening to the sound of my tears

"Are you kidding me," Katsuki complained hiding his face in his hand. Which let Hanta know it was his turn to chime in. The four of you now had a choir.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous

That the best of all the years have gone by

You three continued to sing increasing your enthusiasm with each lyric. Feeding off one another's enthusiasm.

Turn around, bright eyes~

Every now and then I fall apart

"Come on Bakugo, you know this song," Denki said nudging him during the instrumental part of the song.

"Hell no you're out of your mind!" Katsuki yelled. "Shut the hell up you four- you're making a scene."

"Awe~ Come on Kats~" You encouraged him. "You gotta do the next part with us!"

Katsuki eyed you irritated as Eijiro swayed back and forth in his seat matching Denki's dance movements.

You and the boys began singing back as the lyrics picked up again. This time, even louder and more enthusiastic than before.

And I need you now tonight

And I need you more than ever

And if you hold only hold me tight

We'll be holding on forever.

Then to all your surprise, Katsuki chimed into the last verse with you all.

I really need you tonight

Forever's gonna start tonight

Katsuki talked out, his version of singing, while you four sang as loud as ever.

"Let's go Kacchan," Denki laughed clapping his hands together in excitement.

"Awe so cute- you'd do anything they asked," Eijiro said with a giggle earning himself a bark from Katsuki.

"SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR!"

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs

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yanderambling · 1 year

Text

concept: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, reader smoking

in case this looks familiar: this is my best recreation of a story i posted on my deleted account- i loved it too much to let it die, hopefully you'll like it too!

Adrian tries in vain to still his wagging tail, but it only propels faster as he gets closer to you.

This happens every morning: he passes by your "spot" where you hang out with your delinquent friends before school, and you always make sure to give him trouble- and it never gets easier for him to handle.

Sure, he could take a different route to school. Hell, he could even just cross the street. But then how would you catch his eye as he passes and send his heart racing? How would you snatch his tail between your fingers and give it a harsh tug that has him stumbling to a stop and biting back a moan?

"What's got you so excited this morning, freak?"

Adrian chokes on his words, causing your friends to mutter and laugh amongst themselves. He clears his dry throat before trying again, but it's so hard to focus on words with your fingers gripped in his fur.

"N-nn-Nothing."

You scoff. "That's what you say every morning, though." You gesture at him with his own tail, your voice dripping with bored condescension. "I'm starting to think this thing is broken."

The uncomfortable pressure makes Adrian's stomach flip in the most delicious way. "'m-'m sorry..." He murmurs, his heavy tongue struggling to form the words he wasn’t really sure why he was saying.

Another scoff from you, this one distinctly amused (god you’re beautiful when you laugh, even your mockery is breathtaking). "Yeah, you're sorry alright."

Adrian sees one of your friends start to step forward in his periphery, but you halt them with a simple wave of your hand.

Adrian's heart soars.

That's right! You're the only one that gets to touch him like this! You're the only one that gets to pull his tail and pinch his ears, that gets to yank his shirt and steal the breath from his lungs, that gets to grab his arm so hard he’s left pushing on the bruise for a week. Wow, you don't even want your friends getting close to him- you must really care for him!

"The hell are you smiling for?"

Adrian jumps at your blunt words, blinking at you with wide eyes as he struggles to bite down on his grin. "I- I'm not- sure- I-" He can't just say it, he knows how flustered you get about him around your friends, but he also can't very well ignore you. He gulps. “I'm- I don't- I'm not, um-"

You cut him off with a breathy, sardonic laugh (he can all but hear the angelic choir underscoring it). "Oh, jesus, whatever. Where's my damn lunch?"

Adrian perks up at this, a direction. “Oh!” He quickly turns to retrieve it from his bag, the motion causing your grip to tighten and his tail to be jerked in a downright sinful manner.

“H-hhnn-h-here…” He digs out an expensive-looking bento box, quickly holding it out to you with both hands.

Adrian has been bringing you a homemade lunch every morning for the better part of the school year (made by himself with lots of love and only a little spit, but you seem to like it so much!), content with eating from the convenience store so his parents don't get suspicious about him packing two lunchboxes. He's happy to do it, to know he's serving you every day, that his dedication and affection are regularly being consumed by you- it's an honor that thrills him to no end. (You just think you're taking his lunch, and that his mom is a killer cook.)

You snatch the box from him, giving his tail a final (mouthwatering) tug before you open the container. Adrian subconsciously holds his breath as your mouth curls into a tantalizing smirk.

"Sushi, huh? Trying to get on my good side, mutt?" You flick his ear as you snap the bento closed.

Adrian is surprised his legs haven’t given out. "Y-yea-ea- I- I know it's- your favorite..."

You snort, even managing to make that sound like music to his ears. “Yeah, I'll bet."

You swing your bag around and stuff the lunch away, drawing your hand back with a cigarette and lighter.

Adrian watches in awe as you hold it to your mouth; he’s completely enraptured by the way your sweet lips purse around the filter, the way your fingers flex as they ignite it, the way the flame reflects in your entrancing eyes, the way your cheeks hollow the slightest bit as you puff. He’s practically drooling as he watches the smoke crawl from your parted lips.

"What are you waiting for, a tip? Get lost."

Adrian startles out of his reverie, blinking slowly as he comes back to himself. Oh, right. He's given you what you needed from him, he can leave now.

Damn.

He obediently ducks his head and hurries on his way, only throwing about a dozen or so glances back your way before he rounds a corner.

Leaving you is a physical pain, and it hurts more each time he has to do it. Every step away from you is like a knife to his chest, every inhale of air you haven't breathed is suffocating- but it's a pain he's more than happy to feel. Because to feel the pain of leaving means he got to be around you at all, a sacred privilege he still isn't sure how he earned.

It's not because he's a hybrid, they make up over half the school and you've never payed any of them the same attention- no, you chose him. For one reason or another- love, destiny, (he's an easy target; solitary, never fights back, eager to follow your demands, and he doesn't tell anything to anyone no matter what you do to him. he’s pathetic, really, but a nice little puppy to have around), whatever it may be- you chose him.

And you just keep choosing him.

With this reassurance in mind (and one of his many treasured photo albums of you open on his phone), Adrian continues his trek to school with a skip in his step.

He's already looking forward to watching you eat his lunch from across the cafeteria.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #male yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #bully reader #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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xxshadowbabexx · 3 months

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Sub priest könig and dom succubus f!reader pretty please with a cherry on top?

A Priest and His Vices

Warnings: Heavy religious shit, corruption kink, 69, partially clothes sex, come eating, d/s dynamics, begging, humiliation kink, degradation kink, missionary, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink (?), overstimulation, dacryphilia, poorly written German, my first time writing König

König was a good, righteous man. He spread the word of our Lord and Savior far and wide, preaching of how God could save even the most wretched and damned.

Many people knew of his influence, and many considered him to be a symbol within the church. But what they didn’t know, was that every Sunday, after he finished his sermons, he met with the Devil herself.

Or rather, one of her succubus daughters.

Today was one of those days, he paced the chapel, awaiting your arrival. He was nervous, as his deprecating thoughts swarmed his mind. He was supposed to help people realize the beautiful truth, that God is good and here to save them all.

But whenever he got on his soap box and preached to the choir, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were the God he spoke of.

He shuddered as he heard it, the sound of bells jingling, announcing your arrival. He straightened his shoulders as he felt your looming presence behind him, one hand raising to grab the back of his wrist.

Your fingers were cold, burning his skin as your nails dug into the flesh.

“Missed me, König,” you purred, an absolute tease. Of course he missed you, how could he not? No one could milk his cock the way you did, luscious lips around the head with siren eyes gazing into the depths of his soul.

“Natürlich, kleine maus,” he grunted, feeling your nails drag up his arm, over the curve of his bulging muscles.

“How… disappointing. It doesn’t sound like you missed me much at all. Perhaps I should leave?” You mocked, pulling your hand away and turning around.

“Nein, kleine maus. I did miss you. Not good with words. You know this.” he said, knowing it was a shitty excuse but too proud to care.

“Not good with words? Seems like a problem for a priest of your stature,”

He grunted, eyes closing. He wanted you to touch him again, but you weren’t going to unless he asked, were you?

“Sheiß drauf. Get on with it already, woman,” he growled.

You moved to stand in front of him, hand rubbing his hardening cock. “Now that’s not how we ask for things we want, is it?” you asked, sharply pulling his tip with the last syllable.

He moaned into your touch, fucking pathetic and he knew it. “What do you want me to do? Beg?”

“Precisely,” you grinned.

His head hung in shameful submission, “Need you to touch me, kleiner teufel. Need you to make a damn mess of me,”

You smiled wider, showing your teeth. “Good. On your knees, boy,” you commanded and he listened, despising himself for giving in so easily. He shuffled to his knees, his head still level with your chest due to his hulking frame.

“Mmh König,” you whispered, running your hand along his jawline and caressing him gently. “So pretty and submissive for me. Want me to play with you?” you asked, batting long lashes at him.

He nodded, “Yes, need your mouth on m’ cock,” he rasped, reeling at your touch even though nothing had started.

“So needy,” you tsked, smiling down at him. “And why should I give someone like you what you want, hm?”

His faded blue eyes bore up into yours, “Gottverdammt, woman,” he cursed under his breath, “You should touch me because I’ve been risking everything to be here with you,”

“Oh how impatient,” you mocked, “if you really want me you’ll take off your clothes and lay down, alright darling?” you teased.

He nodded like a fool and rushed to undress himself. Fully bare he laid down on the broken cobblestone ground, goosebumps covering his skin as the cold ground caressed his nerves.

You smiled at him wickedly. Your thumb forced its way into his mouth after you bent down, and you took advantage of his open mouth by spitting in it.

And the whore fucking moaned.

You flipped up your skirt as you sat on his face. He began eagerly lapping at your cunt through your slick soaked panties. Something about you corrupting what once was a good, pure priest, and ruining him for anyone but you drove you wild.

He ate you out like a man starved, diving into your pussy and sucking your clit like a pacifier.

You smirked as you leaned down to face his weeping cock. It was long, almost nine inches and dangerously girthy. You leaned to press a kiss to his angry, red head, tasting the precum on your lips. Salty, but not too bitter.

You licked his shaft, one manicured hand coming down to grope his stuffed balls. All the better to breed you with. You slowly worked him into your mouth, feeling his cock spread your throat as he moaned into your pussy.

You sucked him deep and hard, toying with his balls as he came undone underneath you.

“Verdammt, du schmeckst so gut,” he growled into your cunt, barely audible. His tongue burned from rubbing the lace and fucking your panties into your hole. It burned and it felt so good.

See, König had a fucking huge tongue, and it spread your lips so wonderfully.

You felt him flex his beautiful thighs underneath you, a sure sign he was about to cum. You pulled back, sing your hand to stroke him as he came, shooting all over your face and tongue.

You stood up, ignoring König’s attempts to grind your cunt down onto his face. He stood up to face you, his breath catching in his throat as he saw your cum covered face.

“Go on, clean it off me,”

He leaned forward, strong hands cradling your face as he licked his cum off of you. It was fowl and you both loved it so. He was inhumane and depraved.

You made him this way.

Once he had finished licking off his cum you collided your lips with his in a searing kiss. Brutal and hot as you ground yourself on his cock. Seems he was especially needy tonight. Already longing for round two when he hadn’t finished even five minutes ago.

You pushed him down so he was lying on the ground and moved to straddle his lap. In one solid motion you pushed your panties to the side and sank down on his thick cock. You could feel him resting against your cervix, but the best part? That was how tears pooled in König’s eyes as he felt you wrap around his cock.

You began bouncing, absolutely spearing yourself on his leaky cock as he writhed beneath you. It was utterly perfect, how fucked out and pussy drunk he was for you when he only just began.

He was the sorriest excuse for a man you’d ever seen.

You dragged your nails down his sweaty chest, leaving red marks in their wake. He whined, thrusting his hips up into yours as he came undone yet again.

And again…

and again.

It seemed he couldn’t stop cumming. Every orgasm finished just as another began, and he was blurry-eyed and begging beneath you.

“Bitte, verdammt, bitte,” he wailed, begging for something he didn’t know.

You frowned, looking down at the mess beneath you as you pulled off of him, cum spilling everywhere.

“Sorry König, you didn’t make me come tonight. Maybe next time,” you pouted, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you walked back into the depths of hell.

Taglist

@theloneshadow24

@frogtowne

@reap3erslov3

#konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #cod konig #konig x reader

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

Text

Devout

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You meet Wanda Maximoff at church and she later approaches you with a special request that you just can’t refuse

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, uh public sex, fingering (W receiving)

Note: I just think that milf!wanda. Happy love and death week! Enjoy this one!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’ve seen her around town. This Wanda Maximoff that the old ladies in the church are whispering about this morning.

You don’t usually attend, but you were asked by a friend to come today so you got dressed and trudged your way to the building.

Wanda stands with the choir; her hair is in perfect place as she hits every note. She’s devout, you hear the women say. She is crazy, another one adds in. She is having an affair, the last one says. But then the music stops, and the gossiping is put on hold until the preacher has finished.

The choir walks out a side door, and all of them return to their normal church pews. Except for one woman. Wanda. You wonder where she disappears to. You pay no attention to the preacher, not that Wanda is all to blame for that. The sermon is boring, and you’ve heard the same thing before.

So, when the final ones are spoken and prayer is prayed, you are itching to get out of the church. On your way outside, you see her again. Wanda. Swallowing your nerves, you approach the woman.

“Hey there! Welcome to our church!” Wanda greets you like she would any other visitor.

“Oh, I’ve been here before, but thank you, ma’am.” You smile at the way she steals a quick glance over your entire body. You wonder what rumors about her might be true. “You were great up there today.”

“It takes all of us,” Wanda says. “But that’s mighty kind of you.” There are people behind you seemingly waiting to talk to Wanda. “I’ll see you next week?” She asks.

“We’ll see,” you tell her. With that, you leave her to greet more people.

Over the next few days, you try to get Wanda out of your head, but you just can’t. You shouldn’t be thinking about a married woman so much, but Wanda is clearly someone special.

It’s like the prayers you haven’t even prayed are being answered when you run into Wanda at the grocery store.

“Hi, I know you,” Wanda surprises you when she approaches you first.

“Yes, you do. I’m y/n,” you offer, and she smiles.

“It’s so nice to meet you again. I’m Wanda.”

“Right. You’re something of church royalty around here,” you say.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” Wanda remarks. You stand there for a few moments without saying anything. Wanda thinks of a way to break the silence. “Has anyone invited you to the cookout on Saturday?”

“No ma’am, but I didn’t expect an invite. I’m only a once or twice a-year churchgoer.”

“Well come on by, alright? Saturday at 6 in the parking lot.”

Something in you, practically your desperate attraction to her, makes you say yes. She goes about her way and you grab a few extra things at the store. You can’t show up empty-handed, you remember that much about church events.

Saturday comes quickly and you drive to the church. Never once have you wanted to be there as much as you do this time. You still can’t deduce if Wanda is this nice to everyone, or that she feels the energy between you two as well.

You catch sight of her telling people where to put the food and drinks they brought. She is wearing a blazer with a blouse that goes up her neck. Her glasses frame her face perfectly and she looks cute. You wonder if anyone told her that today.

“Hey Wanda,” you approach the woman. She grins and excuses herself from talking to another person.

“Well, hi! What do we have here?” Wanda asks, gesturing to your pie.

“Apple pie. My mom’s recipe. The best you’ll ever have.”

“I believe it. Thank you for sharing it with us,” Wanda says. You hand her the pie, and she sets it down carefully on the table right where she wants it to go. “Please grab a drink and we’ll get the food out in just a bit.”

“Alright. Are you in charge of this shindig?”

“Oh, I don’t know about in charge, but my Bible study group does help,” she answers.

“Ah, so she’s humble. I like that in a woman,” you dare test the waters with your statement.

Wanda’s cheeks blush a deep pink as she gets pulled away into another conversation. You end up finding some old friends that you used to know, so you spend time catching up with them and enjoying some food once it’s ready.

Wanda stays busy and you keep wishing you could find time to talk to her. She is the only reason you’re here, after all. You see a small window when Wanda slips in the church door. Following after her, you keep a respectable distance as she walks into the sanctuary. She sits in a pew and leans her head back.

You feel bad for following her, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Instead, you purposely walk loudly into the room. Wanda hears your feet echoing but she doesn’t turn around.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left,” you say when you get to the pew.

Wanda stands up to face you.

“I’m attracted to you,” she admits. You try not to have a reaction to her boldness. “Would you be interested in having an affair?”

“Oh, Wanda. You’re so beautiful, but I don’t know if I could-”

Wanda cuts you off by surging forward and kissing your lips. Practically all of her body weight is against you as she deepens the kiss. Her tongue mingles with yours and she sucks on it the second she gets in the right position to do so.

“Wanda,” you whisper, breaking the kiss just enough to speak. “We can’t do this.”

“Please, baby. I’m so lonely and you’re so hot,” Wanda says. You can’t pretend the way she calls you baby with that accent gets to you.

“Just this once,” you tell her.

It’s enough for Wanda. She kisses you again and you push her blazer off of her shoulders. You unbutton her blouse as you kiss down her neck. You’re not careful about leaving marks, no one will see them with her blouse anyways.

“Keep going, darling,” Wanda pleads as you leave hickeys on her neck. Her shirt opens wide, and you grasp at her breasts. She gasps as your fingers work deftly to play with her nipples.

“Do you like that, ma’am?”

“God yes, please I need you so fucking bad.”

“Devout Wanda needs me so bad in this church,” you tease her. It turns her on further. You slip your hand into her pants and relish the slickness you feel in her folds. Kissing her again, you keep one hand slipping around in her panties.

“We don’t have time for you to tease me,” Wanda says.

“Yes ma’am,” you agree. Anyone could walk in and ruin this moment.

You slip a finger inside Wanda. With her pants still on, the pressure builds quickly, and you touch her in all of the right spots. Wanda bites your neck when you add another finger.

“Be good for me, Wanda. Come for me right here, mommy,” you say. The term makes Wanda release a guttural moan. Anyone near the area would hear it, but she doesn’t care.

Your thumb brushes over her clit and Wanda comes so hard that her body threatens to fall over. You keep her steady.

“That’s it, Wanda,” you say, kissing her as you work her through her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby,” Wanda whimpers.

You kiss her a few more times before you help her get dressed again. The blouse covers her neck and there’s no visual evidence of what you did. But the knowledge that you left marks all over her makes you smile.

“Please come back next week,” Wanda says as she fixes her hair clips.

“How about I come back tomorrow?” You counter.

“Yes please,” Wanda says. “Meet me in the choir suite?”

“I’ll see you there, ma’am.”

Wanda leaves you with one more kiss and you watch her leave the room. You glace at the cross on the podium and smile to yourself.

Wanda just might turn you into a regular churchgoer, but it’s worth it to worship her perfect body.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff #I’m going to hell for this one #oops

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thatfandomslut · 3 months

Text

Hurt and Comfort

Gretchen Wieners x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: mean Regina

Request:

pls do a gretchen x reader where reader see gretchen sad about something regina said again and just kinda of comfort her?

Mean Girls requests are open.

The main difference between (Y/n) and Gretchen was status. (Y/n) was average at school. She wasn't high on the school's totem pole, but she wasn't on the bottom either. She was a floater and could fit in anywhere. She just chose not to be a Plastic. She and Regina got along fine, but that was just it. Neither of them cared for each other very much. Gretchen, on the other hand, was Regina's right-hand woman. She knew everyone's secrets, and she gave those secrets away easily to Regina and (Y/n). The only difference between them that was, one was for bad and the other was just to listen to her girlfriend gossip. (Y/n) also couldn't be a part of the Plastics, because she doesn't take Regina's shit. She'll confront the blonde when she is mean to her or Gretchen.

With all of that said, (Y/n) didn't choose to sit next to the Plastics at lunch. She sat with her friends, but she still went over to say 'hello' to Gretchen often. Sometimes, she would also offer little flirty lines or kisses on the cheek. However, as she got up in order to provide her little pick-up line of the day and kiss, she noticed that Gretchen was not at the table with Regina, Karen, and Cady. Her brows furrowed at this revelation before she approached the girls.

"Hey, ladies," she greeted with a kind smile. That was something Karen and Cady reciprocated, but Regina just looked over curiously. "I was just wondering if any of you have seen Gretchen. I just was coming over to say 'hi' when I noticed she wasn't over in her usual seat." (Y/n) pointed out, looking over to mostly Cady. Cady was kind, and she knew she could trust her answer.

Still, it was no use, Cady had no clue where Gretchen was. She did offer the fact that Gretchen was in their English class, but that didn't help (Y/n) much. She already knew that Gretchen wasn't absent today. She also knew that Gretchen would tell her if she had a doctor's appointment or left school early. Before she could walk off, Regina had finally spoken up. "Why don't you just text her?" She looked over, looking bored and annoyed with the conversation. Though (Y/n) had not done that yet, that was her backup if the girls didn't know. So, she chose to ignore how obvious of a decision that was and nodded before walking off.

As she walked down the halls, sending a text to see where Gretchen was, she walked into all the more secluded rooms. That's where she found Gretchen, hiding out in the choir room, wiping away tears that seemed to never stop rolling off her cheeks. "Oh, baby," (Y/n) knelt beside Gretchen, who fell in her arms easily. "What happened, Gretchen? Why are you crying, my love?" (Y/n) questioned gently. As she waited patiently for Gretchen to answer, she rubbed her back in hopes of soothing the girl.

Gretchen didn't answer at first. She knew that her words would come out strictly as sobs, so as soon as she could muster out a word, she croaked out a quiet "Regina," into (Y/n)'s chest. (Y/n) tensed at her answer, not happy to hear the blonde's name come out of Gretchen's lips. Especially not when she was shaking in her arms because whatever Regina had said to her, it had upset her to the point of crying in the choir room. Gretchen was a strong person, and she tended to deflect Regina's insults. That was how (Y/n) knew that Gretchen was finally at her breaking point. This also probably had to do with Regina only getting a candy cane for Cady. Though Gretchen did get a lot from (Y/n), her feelings were hurt due to Regina pushing her aside for Cady.

(Y/n) sat there for a moment, and she allowed Gretchen to cry it out. She just wanted to be there for her, just as Gretchen had been there for her, too. "She said I was being too obnoxious because I asked her about our dance for the talent show. And, I know that sounds little, but it's been so many things building up to it. Like, I love Cady, but I feel like I'm being replaced by her. I'm scared that one day, I'll wake up, and I won't be good enough for anyone anymore." Gretchen sniffed, playing with the fabric of (Y/n)'s jacket as she tried not to cry more after she had divulged her insecurities.

There was a moment of pause as (Y/n) thought about everything she wanted to say. "Gretchen, you are good enough. You are more than enough, and it hurts my heart to hear you think you're less than. You are beautiful, strong, smart, kind, caring, and above all… You are the most amazing person I have ever met. Regina doesn't deserve to have that power over you. I'm not saying you two can't be friends or anything like that, but maybe you can at least provide new boundaries where you don't let her make you feel that way." (Y/n) tried to offer a solution, wanting to help in any way she could. She had also felt that way for a while, but she was always too nervous to tell Gretchen that she should set boundaries between her and Regina.

Gretchen sniffled into (Y/n)'s shoulder as she moved away to look at her. "You're right, (Y/n). need to create boundaries. Regina doesn't respect me, and I deserve to be respected, just like you always say." Gretchen looked more confident when she came to this conclusion, and it made (Y/n) smile as she looked over at her. Gretchen leaned in, kissing (Y/n) deeply as she did so and cupped her cheeks delicately. "Thank you, (Y/n). You always know what to say to cheer me up. I love you." She whispered shyly.

(Y/n) bit her lip excitedly since they had never said the 'L' word yet. "I love you, too, Gretchen." (Y/n) said before pressing a kiss onto Gretchen's lip, smiling wide. "I'm glad I could be here for you. You mean a lot to me." She said before standing up and helping Gretchen up, too. "Now let's go have some lunch, pretty girl." She encouraged, and Gretchen followed along happily. They both felt lucky to have each other in their lives.

#gretchen wieners x reader #gretchen wieners #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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elevator-to-mars · 2 months

Text

how i view the choir/my rtc headcanons (it's pretty clear who's my favourite tbh)

ocean

I mainly see her as tiffany tatreau's portrayal

she/her, cis, aroace

doesn't really get the concept of being trans, was only introduced to it when ricky joined the choir

ocd, asthma

2nd shortest in choir, 5'4

has never had a haircut

the only time she got into trouble at school was when she and noel were arguing. she cried until she threw up after that. it was the first day of senior year.

says she's a polyglot but she's nowhere near fluent in the languages she claims to speak

hates theatre :(

texts with proper grammer

listens solely to up with people

noel

i mainly see him as james ragen's portrayal (trinity theatre actor)

he/they/she, nonbinary, gay

jean valjean from les mis was his gay awakening

speaks french

autism, bipolar disorder

unironically says slay, pop off, queen, etc.

instead of saying "who in gods name" he says "who in jean genet's name"

can't cook or spell for the life of him

has ocean saved in his phone as "the lion, the witch, the audacity of this bitch"

types only in lowercase with no punctuation

does ricky’s french homework

5'8

listens to french music and mitski (once ocean walked in on him belting a taylor swift song. that was never spoken about again)

has a crush on mischa. cried when mischa and ricky got together.

he has a boyfriend...! he just... goes to a different school... in a different timezone... in a different country...!

permanent teen angst phase

mischa

i see him as a mix of adam stanley and chaz duffy's portrayals

he/him (doesn't mind they though), trans, bi, poly

dating ricky and talia

has invited noel to the polycule before but they prefer to live in tradgedy

adhd, ptsd

once he forgot how to breathe

learnt spanish for ricky and his family

hates duolingo

polyglot

fluent in multiple types of sign too

when ricky came out as trans (while they were in a relationship with eachother) he posted a video to his youtube talking about trans rights and changed every video with ricky's deadname in it <333

once his "friends" (the people that mischa hangs around with to keep his persona strong but in reality despises them) made fun of ricky, safe to say ricky isn't a very safe candidate to mock for them now

usually types all in uppercase but does relax it sometimes

the human embodiment of a golden retriever around people he likes

listens to maklemore and eminem but is willing to listen to music that talia & ricky like

him, talia and ricky all have promise rings

loves sharks

when talia comes to canada, she agreed to go to a planetarium with ricky and teach him some ukrainian

once he forgot a word in ukrainian and look horrified

6'9

ricky

i see him as yannick-robin eike mirko's portrayal... like only their portrayal... godamn you, autism (although i do have multiple versions of him in my mind)

he/they/it/xe/nameself prns, trans, boyflux, pansexual, poly

dating mischa and talia

autism, adhd, degenerative disease, dyslexia, dyspraxia, dyscalculia, asthma, maladaptive daydreaming

always looses his inhaler

speaks spanish, german and korean as well as three types of sign (and english ofc)

puerto rican

moved to canada at 14

he’s 16 (technically canon)

his parents are really religious

when he learnt what sex was, zolar became his horny place as well as his escape

emoticon user

once ate a bauble because xey were bored

does noel’s spanish homework

used to unironically watch the emoji movie and liked it...

does write music, prefers to keep it a secret because ocean WILL use his music for choir songs

listens to glam rock in general with a few musicals mixed in there

randomly has allergic reactions

paints his nails

knows everyones secrets :)

writes fanfiction

HATES THE TAMBOURINE.

tries to hum along to the music at rehersal

has his text size at the biggest possible one

has glasses, whenever he adjusts them ocean thinks he's trying to correct her

won't eat the school lunches

constantly sleep deprived

does not know how to kiss

5’1

okay i don't want this to entirely be ricky... so lets move on

jane | penny

i see her mainly as em flosi's portrayal

they/it/she, agender, aroace

autism, drdp

carried her doll everywhere

speaks latin

joined choir because her social worker made it

doesn’t really listen to music, but when she does they listens to old music

has their parents old jewlery

spends most of their time in the library

6’2

constance

i mainly see her as princess victomé and tiffany polite's portrayal

she/they, demigirl, pansexual, asexual

depression, social anxiety

had a crush on ricky for a while

haitian

loves to bake

brings brownies, cookies, cakes etc to choir rehersals

brings extra food for kids that don’t have any

usually runs the café on weekends

her brother is called xavier

okay that’s it. this took me >2 hours to write so erm…

#ride the cyclone #headcanon #rtc #save ricky potts #ocean o'connell rosenberg #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #jane doe rtc #penny lamb #constance blackwood #they’re gay your honour

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mushroommanstan · 1 year

Text

Spilled Coffee

Shigaraki x reader fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The representative straightened his tie nervously, trying yet failing to meet Shigarakis gaze as they waited in silence. He could feel the fabric of his shirt darken with sweat the longer the tense silence continued, hoping to god that whoever they were waiting for would just show up already so they could get out of here.

He decided to busy himself by proofreading his progress reports, again, for the fourth time, just in case there was something he missed. He’s never had to stress this much about a simple progress update, but this year was different. This year, Rikaya had decided to bestow co-ownership of the MLA to Tomura Shigaraki, the most notoriously unstable, itchy-trigger-fingered man in all of Japan. Why? Good question.

And of course, that means that he’s now included in said progress reports, since it’s all about information for the higher ups.

But hey, no biggie right? I mean, Rikayas still gonna be there; he’ll be able to stop Shigaraki before he infamously does something he regrets. Except he isn’t there. Rikayas battle wounds took a turn for the worst, and now it’s just the representative and Shigaraki, alone, with no one around to hear him scream.

He took a sip of coffee, trying to steel his nerves, as Shigaraki fiddled with a pencil, tapping it against the desk obnoxiously. Finally, the door opened and you walked through, pulling at your shirt.

“Sorry I took so long! Some idiot spilled coffee on me an-“ you stopped abruptly, locking eyes with the wide eyed rep, mouth gapping slightly as his face paled. You both recognized eachother immediately.

He was the idiot who spilled coffee on you

It happened just a while ago. The rep was so anxious, having just gotten word that Re-Destro was going to be absent that he didn’t look where he was going and bumped right into you. He was already running late and he didn’t have enough time to apologize so he just took off without a word, hoping not to see you again. Yet here you were, perched on a serial killers lap, eyes twitching with recognition.

Shigaraki leaned back, his displeased posture easing with your presence.

“We can deal with that later. For now I just want to get this over with.”

The rep cleared his throat, worst case scenarios flooding his mind and forming a lump in his throat. Fucking shit, he spilled coffee on Shigarakis girlfriend. He’s heard of people getting dusted for way less. Fuck. He’s going to die. He’s actually going to die.

He felt his eyes water a little, breathing becoming shaky before he calmed himself down. Clearly he doesn’t know about it yet. I just need to talk the whole time without giving her a chance to speak, run out the clock and leave before he learns about it. Simple as that.

He steeled his nerves, taking a deep breath as Shigaraki waited impatiently. I mean, come on, this isn’t some big presentation. You’re not preaching to the choir just fucking go already.

With a shaky tone he began, going over the planned introduction with a generous amount of stumbling over his words. It got better as he continued, focusing more on his report rather than his impending doom.

Meanwhile shigarakis head rested against his palm, painfully obviously bored. You tapped away at your phone, leaving all the contribution to the discussion to your boyfriend, making the rep wonder why they waited for you at all.

He finished a section of his speech, sliding over a written analysis of statistics and budgets, which even though it took weeks to prepare, was merely skimmed over by Shigaraki before being set down and forgotten. But hey, he’d take apathetic boredom over murderous rage any day.

As he prattled on, he noticed your movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up from his notes, watching as you took his report and one of the miscellaneous pens laying around ReDestros desk.

The aforementioned hours of work put into the carefully produced report was put to waste as you scribbled over it, making quick pen strokes as you wrote that made the rep stumble over his words. It was obvious you were writing something, at least a paragraph. Is it a correction? Did he do something wrong? No, that’s impossible! He’s looked over that countless times! But what else could you be writing?

His confident words were reduced to mumbles as you slid the paper back to Shigaraki. He took a much longer look than before, eyes moving as he studied what you wrote before grinning maliciously.

The rep was sure he peed himself a little at that look. That’s the face Shigaraki makes when he’s about to murder someone. Eyes gleaming, mouth stretched into a wide, unnerving grin. He felt his throat constrict even more when Shigaraki let out a dark chuckle.

Shit shit shit, you told him. You told him and now there’s no escaping his fate. He watched Shigaraki lean in and whisper something in your ear. You giggled, taking the paper back and scribbling something else down. Probably different ways that they’re going to kill him before he gets dusted. He is known to be cruel, at least with people that hurt his friends. So the rep can’t imagine how he would act to someone hurting his girlfriend. (I mean he just stained her shirt but, whatever)

He could feel bile rising in his throat as he saw the look you two shared. Giddy and content, as if plotting his murder was just a table game to them. They hadn’t even realized he stopped talking until he knocked over his water bottle, the metallic clatter ringing throughout the room, making Shigaraki visibly jump. He looked up from the paper, the glare he gave to the rep almost making him pass out.

He rolled his eyes, about to say something before you leaned in and whispered something into his ear. This time, the rep was able to hear her. You needed to go to the bathroom.

Shigaraki nodded, insisting to the rep that they should take a break, and he couldn’t agree more. As soon as they left the room the rep scrambled to get the paper. He had to know what was going to happen to him, see if there was anything he could do to prepare.

He closed his eyes, preparing himself, trying to find the strength to see his death sentence. He peeled his eyes open, looking down at his ‘edited’ work.

There, on the side of the page, was a crude doodle of a corgi with sunglasses on a skateboard. That was it. That was the entirety of your additions. A drawing of a dog on a skateboard. What. The. Hell.

He let out the biggest sigh of relief he’s ever had, letting the paper fall from his hands as he slumped back into his chair. Thank god, it was just a doodle.

They entered back into the room, returning to their original places, Shigaraki with his chin resting against his hand, you on his side, rubbing his back.

“Alright. Let’s finish this. We gotta go clothes shopping after this, thanks a lot by the way.”

The rep gulped. So he did know.

“…I’ll pay for it…”

“Yeah. I know. And it’s not gonna be cheap. But just be thankful I’m feeling generous today and not making you pay in blood.”

The rep sighed, nodding with a relieved smile. Yes, his bank account is gonna take a hit, meaning he’ll have to hold off on those car payments he needs.

But hey, could’ve been much, much worse.

#shigaraki tenko #my hero academia #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #my hero academia shigaraki #boku no hero academia tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura

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jardin-de-limaginaire · 1 year

Note

Heyy How you doing? I wanted to make a request for Mischa Bachinski × reader where reader is like this popular but not mean kind of girl in town. Like everyone loves her and she's in every club she can and has good grades in school (which can be a problem for ocean), her friends'parents absolutely love her, etc. And like mischa and her don't talk to much, so he thinks she doesn't even remember his name. (Kind of like the song Gold Rush by taylor swift now that I think abt it? Idk).

The point is ofc she likes him, but she thinks he doesn't like her bc of his angry persona and all of that stuff (also what would people say if they saw her hanging out with someone with such a bad raputation?)

And when they finally clear things up and become friends they end completely falling in love w each other and have to tell each other at some point.

I feel like this is way too long and specific, so don't worry if it bores you or smth, ily :))

Hello! I'm currently very busy with school, but I'll still try writing oneshots at any opportunity I have! And don't worry, I love writing very long and detailed works, and I find it easier when the request is longer because I know what I need to write.

(P.S. In this fanfic, (Y/N) has two moms, which will be referred to as mama and mom, cuz I just felt like it.) (Also, they will appear in the next request too, so be prepared to see them again)

Also, sorry for not writing in a few weeks, I've been going through a long depressive episode lately, but now I've got the motivation to write again

(TW: None!)

Word count: 1,364 words

Beauty and the beast (Mischa Bachinski x Popular!fem!reader fluff)

(𝓨/𝓝)'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

"The most loved girl in town" has been a Title that I've worn like a badge for most of my life. Ever since I was younger, I knew three things:

"Be friendly to others because you don't know what they're going through, be smart so that you can one day help others live a better life, and last but not least, be happy for making others happy"

At least, that's what my parents always told me, and I obeyed them. These rules have been actually helpful for me. Thanks to them, I am now known by everyone in town as being "The most loved girl in town", thanks to my personality.

I always help others when in need, and thanks to that, I've made a lot of friends. Yes, some of them have been fake to me, but I still have forgiven them.

I am also one of the best students in school. I've never got any grade below 79%, and I am also in every club in St. Cassian high school, including the school choir.

Speaking about the school choir, I am friends with a lot of people, even with my rival, Ocean. We don't hate each other, but we are indeed rivals in every class. After we get the scores on one of our tests, the one who has the lower grade needs to buy Taco Bell from my friend, Noel, and pay with the "loser"'s money.

Even if I have a lot of friends in school, I am not friends with one boy, who's name is Mischa Bachinski. To be honest, I would like to be friends with him, but I don't think he would want to be friends with me, a goodie two shoes.

I should probably try to become friends with him. Everyone has a good soul. There's no such thing as bad people. Mischa is just misunderstood, that's the problem, and I would like to try to break him out of his shell formed of anger.

The next morning, after I woke up, I decided to make a little bracelet for Mischa, since I want to start a friendship with him, and there's no better way than to make a friendship bracelet.

I spent a few minutes making the bracelet, which also included his name, and I felt very proud of myself, yet I was still kind of scared that he might reject my friendship bracelet.

After I was done making it, I put it on my wrist, and then took my backpack, and went downstairs to eat together with my moms.

As I was walking downstairs, I observed the decoration around the house. There were seventeen pictures of me, going from up to down. The first picture was a picture of myself when I was one, and the seventeenth one was of me in the present. I'm not exaggerating one bit when I tell you that my moms are very proud of me. They always brag with pride about how smart I am to everyone they meet. Most parents even beg me to be friends with their kids, so that they can learn to be "better". Of course, I befriended their kids, but I never tried to change them. Everyone is perfect in their own way.

"Goodmorning, (Y/N)! How was your sleep?" Asked my mama. I looked at her and I smiled, as my other mom was making breakfast for us.

"It was wonderful!" I said as my mom gave me an omelet.

"Well, we're glad that you slept well!" Mom said as she sat next to mama and me.

I began eating as if there were no tomorrow, and then got off my seat and waved at my moms.

"Wait, (Y/N)!" Mama said as she walked to me, and pulled my sleeve up, to show the bracelet that I was planning to give to Mischa.

"Young lady. Who is this "Mischa"?" She asked as she smirked. I blushed a little.

"Oh, he's a boy in choir, and I want to become friends with him, so I made him this bracelet," I said, and both mama and mom smiled at each other.

"That's good, honey! Hope we can meet him one day!" Said mom, as both she and mama waved at me.

I waved back and then headed off to school.

I have gotten to the choir and looked around for Mischa. he was indeed here, but he was sitting on his phone.

I walked up to him.

"Hello, Mischa!" I waved at him. He looked at me surprised.

"Wait, you remembered my name?" He asked. I nodded. "What do you want from me?"

"Well, I would like to become friends with you, only if you don't mind!" I said, and I took the bracelet off my wrist and showed it to him.

he looked in awe at the bracelet and extended his hand to take it. He took it so gently, it was as if he never got any gifts from anyone.

"Wow..." He said, and then looked at me. "You really had time to make a gift...for me?"

I nodded. He looked even more in astonishment at the bracelet. He looked like he wanted to cry, but he hid it behind the facade of someone with a "cool guy" persona. "Thank you, druh!" He smiled at me.

"Sorry if I seem rude, but what does "druh" mean?" I asked with a confused smile. He started chuckling. "Druh means friend in ukrainian." He said, still looking at the bracelet.

"Wait, you see me as a friend?" I asked once again. He smiled again.

"Of course! No one here ever gave me a gift, and you are the only one who gave me something even if we don't know each other very well."

He explained. My eyes sparkled. Then he added with a slight blush, "Thanks." I smiled brightly at him, and we continued chatting until class started. I just know that this will start a beautiful friendship.

I'll never forget the day when I befriended Mischa. Since then, we've been like two peas in a pod, rarely separated. Even though I've only been friends with Mischa for a few weeks, I consider him one of my closest friends.

After school, Mischa waited for me outside, and we decided to walk home together. He held my arm, and it felt so nice…but also weird. It was like a tingle running through my body, and my heart started beating fast.

We talked more and more, while slowly getting closer and closer to each other. I could feel a lump form in my throat. Why was I reacting like this? Maybe it's because I had never felt this before. Was this normal? Or was I overreacting? I couldn't tell. Our arms were touching, which was weird. I didn't like being touched by strangers, and Mischa was definitely not the type of person whom I would willingly touch. However, I enjoyed holding hands with Mischa. We arrived at Mischa's house. "See you at school, (Y/N)" Mischa said with a saddened expression as he wanted to enter his house. I stopped him, which made him look back at me "Hey, Mischa," I began, "I actually wanted to ask you something…" "Yeah?" He replied, sounding slightly nervous. "I…I…really like you! I blurted out. His face changed completely, and he looked shocked. He looked at me for a moment. "Why?" He asked. "Well, I guess I don't know! I just found out today that I have a crush on you, and then I couldn't stop thinking about you!" Misha began laughing. "Well, (Y/N), I like you too." He said, smiling. "Really?!?" I asked as I wasn't sure if I heard correctly. But then, it happened: he hugged me. A hug from Mischa Bachinski. "Yes, (Y/N), I really like you too." He said as he broke the hug. We stared into each other's eyes and smiled shyly. This relationship will truly begin like any cheesy romantic comedy.

𝑅𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 >> 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 (𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈)

#Randommoonchild #reader insert #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone x reader #mischa x reader #mischa bachinski x reader #mischa bachinski #mischa rtc #ride the cyclone mischa #ride the cyclone musical #rtc x reader #rtc musical #rtc

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austinsmutler · 11 months

Text

A Fool Such as I - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 1700 words

Summary: While Elvis is on stage, Hank Snow has a few choice words for you. Elvis finds out after the show and reminds you of what's really important.

What you’ll like: Sweet!Elvis, 50s Elvis, hurt/comfort (what else is new in my fics?) use of the prompt 'You don't have to worry about me not being loyal', Elvis and Reader are childhood sweethearts

Warnings: None, but Hank Snow is a bit of an asshole in this. Slut-shaming and put-downs from insecure minor characters whose opinions do not matter (keep that in mind for real life too!)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Currently only taking requests for Elvis and Austin!Elvis)

A/N: I'm loving all your requests so far. Expect the next one this weekend. It's got virgin!Elvis and it's sweet as iced tea.

“Is that a pair of young ladies… intimates I see on that stage?” Hank Snow said with an arched eyebrow.

You stifled a laugh, while the Colonel did his best to disguise his amusement with a blank stare. “Why yes, I believe it is, Hank.”

“Best not happen when he sings one of my songs.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t.” You batted your eyelashes at Hank, who shot you a disgusted look.

The song finished and Elvis bounded offstage, kissing you on the cheek and sending Hank a smile. “They’re all warmed up for you.”

“I can see that.” Hank grumbled, grabbing his guitar and heading onstage to a crowd that still screamed your boyfriend’s name.

Elvis turned to you with a smile. “Was I good?”

“So good, baby.” Jealousy bit at the back of your throat, but you pushed it down.

“I can’t believe I’m opening for Hank Snow.” Elvis’ eyes were glued to the stage. “And I get to play the interim too, Colonel said if the interest keeps up I get to play the closing number as well. Not the real one of course, but the music they play when the crowd’s getting tired. He wants me to rile ‘em back up again.”

“That’s amazing!” You grinned as Elvis wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as Hank got into the swing of things. Your eyes stayed on Elvis, but he wasn’t watching Hank. He was watching the crowd- the bored girls, some of whom had polite smiles on their faces, all of whom wanted Elvis back on stage.

The pattern continued as summer wore on and the carnival traveled from Memphis to Mississippi, further up to North Carolina. Everywhere you went, the girls were crazy for Elvis… and not Hank.

The Colonel was gradually expanding Elvis’ setlist, so that by the time you reached Asheville he was half the show, not just an opening act. You and Hank stood backstage, watching as Elvis sang Hound Dog and women screamed.

Elvis swayed his hips, and Hank’s face screwed up in distaste. “What a disgusting display.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, trying to keep your voice light. “It’s just dancing.”

“That? That ain’t dancing.” Hank looked at you, but the revulsion stayed in his eyes as he looked you up and down. You were wearing a simple pink dress and black cardigan with long sleeves, but he made you feel naked and dirty with one look. “What does your mother think of you, traipsing around the country with a boy like that?”

“My family have known Elvis since we were kids. We met at church.” You tried to come up with more to say, something that would make Hank see-

“Church? That boy?” He interrupted with a scoff before you could finish your thought.

“We sang in the choir together. Nobody minded him dancing then either.”

“He moved like that in church?” Hank gaped at you, then the stage, where girls were starting to throw their intimates again. He made the sign of the cross. “If my daughter went to church and came back with a boy like that, I’d send her to a nunnery.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe your mother is happy to raise a fast girl, but I make sure my wife and daughter stay at home.” Hank shook his head. “I pray for your generation.”

Hank turned back to the stage, and you backed away- only to see the Colonel off to one side, smiling at you. Close enough to have heard the entire exchange. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a nod as you excused yourself from backstage. You knew he had similar opinions. Everyone did: singers never took their wives on the road with them, much less their girlfriends. But Elvis was different, and that was one of the things you loved about him.

Still, that didn't make it any easier to put up with the constant judgement. You and Elvis could be as god-fearing and traditional as the pope; people would still be critical because of the way he moved and sang.

You walked out into the mostly-deserted carnival. Everyone was over by the stage, exactly where you didn’t want to be.

Your thoughts flickered back to the crowd of girls screaming in the front row. Most of them were pretty. All of them wanted Elvis. What was to stop him from having any one of them? Before Elvis’ career started up, the future seemed set in stone: you’d been dating since high school, friends for a decade before that. Marriage should have come after graduation.

Instead, you were here: a month away from graduation yourself, Elvis already dropped out. Not a word of marriage, and he wasn’t allowed to wear your promise ring because someone might get wind of your relationship. You could damage his career. Elvis loved you a whole lot, but you weren’t a fool. His career, his fans, they were everything to him.

You found a wooden table covered in red paper cups and half-eaten food. Nobody would think you out of place among the trash, you thought bitterly.

The area was deserted, so you sat down and cleared enough space to rest your elbows on the table. Blue Suede Shoes echoed in the distance, and you couldn’t help but hum along before Hank’s words resurfaced, along with many others you’d heard from men who didn’t know you or Elvis.

“I bet your boyfriend makes you wear all that makeup. You look like a slut.” That was a man who’d spoken to you back in Memphis, another performer who traveled with the carnival. You’d been avoiding him for the past few weeks.

“Why are you in the front row?” One teen girl had said in Georgia, jostling you to one side in the crowd as you waited for Elvis to come on stage. “You don’t look like his type. I read he likes pretty-pretty girls.”

Their words were intended to hurt, to push you out of Elvis’ arms, but they hadn’t. You’d stayed, and the words had sunk into your skin, like splinters of insecurity.

Hot tears raced down your cheeks as a million thoughts raced through your mind. You and Elvis used to be the most simple thing in the world: love. Now you weren’t so sure about anything. Not yourself, not Elvis, not your relationship or his career or your place in it.

“Pardon me, if I’m sentimental, when we say goodbye…” Hank Snow’s voice drifted across the empty fairground in a slow drawl. A few people lucky enough to be at the back of the crowd walked away, while the rest stayed in the hopes Elvis would come back on, as he so often did.

“Now and then, there’s a fool such as I…”

The words sank in. Hank always sang them softly, but tonight they felt barbed, directed at you. Fool. That was what you were, right? Dropping everything back in Memphis to follow your boyfriend. Your mother had given you permission after consistent begging, multiple reassurances from the Presley family, and one especially tearful night where you’d screamed,

“He’s the love of my life Momma, I can’t let him go alone.”

But here you were, alone. Tears rolling down your face, shoulders shaking, breath coming in gasps. It was so hard to breathe you didn’t even hear the footsteps coming up behind you until Elvis draped his jacket across your shaking shoulders. It smelled of his cologne, comforting you almost instantly.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Elvis took the seat across from you, pushing the trash on the table to one side to grasp your hands. “You wanna tell me what this is about?”

Getting caught crying just made you cry harder, and you wiped your nose with the back of your hand. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m like this.”

He frowned. “I know there’s a reason. You can tell me.”

You shook your head, trying to smile. Trying to breathe. “I’m fine, really. I promise.”

“Don’t do that.” Elvis squeezed your hands. “Don’t lie to me about something like that, baby.”

You just stared at him. Even after performing, glazed in sweat, eyeliner smudged everywhere, Elvis was still stunning. The black lace shirt he wore contrasted his tan skin, giving him a glow that warmed you up from the inside. His blue eyes were wide with concern while his fingers stroked your knuckles, waiting for a reply.

“Did Hank say something to you?” He asked after the silence dragged on for too long.

Your blood ran cold. “What?”

“You weren’t there when I came offstage. I asked him where you were, he said you should’ve gone home weeks ago.” Elvis frowned. “He’s never been a fan of me, and I’ve made my peace with that. But if he said something to you-”

“It’s nothing!” You shrugged, lips pressed tight together. “Next time I just- I won’t talk to him. I know what he thinks of me. I don’t need to hear it.”

“What he thinks of you?” Elvis’ voice was low, something underneath boiling like blood. “What did he say?”

You repeated the interaction to Elvis, his hands gripping yours tighter and tighter until both your knuckles were white. Once you started, you didn’t stop- every word that lingered in your mind leapt from your mouth, from the men who whispered slut when they saw you with Elvis to the girls who jostled with you for the front row, prepared to say anything to shake you up.

Elvis stood and you expected him to walk away, to pace or process the information on his own, but there was no hesitation in his movements as he came and knelt on the ground next to your chair. He never took his eyes from yours.

“Baby, I’m gonna have a talk with Hank.”

“But-”

“No. There won’t be a next-time, no second chances, not with you. I’ve given him enough opportunities to be the polite Southern gentleman he thinks he is. Enough.”

Elvis cupped your face in his hands. “Before we left Memphis, I made a promise to your Momma that I’d take care of you. I’ll take care of this. And if he ever says another word to you, anything less than complimentary, I’ll sock him in the jaw.”

You laughed, crying again as Elvis kissed you.

“And Baby, about the rest?” He pulled back with a smile, leaning your foreheads together. “Well, there’s nothing I can do but tell you this: You're mine, but I'm yours too. You don't have to worry about me not being loyal. There's only one woman I could ever want in my life, and that's you. Everyone else is white noise, but you’re my favorite song. Understand?”

You threw your arms around Elvis and he held you tight, as if you’d vanish if he ever let go. But you both knew you’d be there for each other until the end.

#austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #austin!elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #50s elvis #protective elvis #hurt/comfort

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