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luvvictoria · 1 month ago

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Hiiii i love your basketball au w/ sukuna sm!

Would you be ok with writting about reader and sukuna with him regretting letting you walk away after the last fight? With them actually getting together?

Ty for your time friend! 💖🌸

Not the time to think about it pt.II

( ♡ ) pairing : Basketball player!Sukuna Ryomen x fem!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, kinda sad, age gap , idk bro , angst to fluff (??)

( ♡ ) a/n : hi my love 💞 Thank you for your request 🤗 I love the idea of them actually getting together but of course I’ll make it a bit of angst 😋

Aftermath

You threw yourself into your studies, trying to drown in your textbooks, hoping that if you just worked hard enough, if you buried yourself deep enough in the endless pages of research and lectures, you could forget him.

But it never worked.

No matter how many nights you stayed up until dawn, staring blankly at words that blurred together on the the pages of your books, Sukuna was always there — lingering in the back of your mind like a ghost.

The pain clung to you like a shadow. It wasn’t the sharp, immediate sting you felt when you had first confronted him, when his silence had confirmed your worst fear. No, this pain was quieter, more insidious. It seeped into every part of you, weighing down your chest until it was hard to breathe, until even the simplest things — like hearing his name on TV or passing by the court where he practiced — felt like a knife slowly twisting in your heart.

Every time you saw him, even from afar, it was like tearing open a wound that refused to heal. You would catch glimpses of him on campus, surrounded by his usual crowd, his laughter echoing through the air. And every time, you had to fight the urge to cry. Because to the world, he was still the same Sukuna —charming, carefree, untouchable. But to you? To you, he was the man who had made you believe in something more, only to shatter it.

It felt cruel, how life continued as if nothing had changed, as if your world hadn’t crumbled the night you walked away. You tried to hate him, tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t worth this heartache. But no matter how much you tried to forget him, to erase the memory of his touch, his smile, his whispered promises, you couldn’t.

Nights were the hardest. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence pressing down on you — it was in those quiet moments that the loneliness hit the hardest. You found yourself remembering the way his arms had felt around you, how you had felt safe, warm, loved, even if only for a fleeting moment. And now, all of that was gone, like smoke slipping through your fingers.

You would dream about him sometimes. In your dreams, things were different. He hadn’t hurt you, hadn’t broken your heart. In your dreams, he still loved you, and everything was as it should have been. But then you would wake up, and the cold reality would settle over you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The man you had loved — the man you still loved —wasn’t coming back.

It was a cruel irony, really. The more you tried to move on, the more you felt trapped in the memory of what you had lost. You wanted to be angry, to scream, to let it all out. But instead, you simply existed, numb to everything except the quiet ache in your chest that reminded you, day after day, that he was gone, and you were left alone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

And the worst part ? The worst part was knowing that you had loved him so deeply, with everything you had, only to realize it hadn’t been enough. That no matter how hard you tried to be what he needed, in the end, you couldn’t save him from himself.

For Sukuna, life continued as it always had. He went through the motions — attending practices, playing games, flashing that same arrogant smile for the cameras, surrounded by the fans and women who once made him feel untouchable. But now, none of it mattered. It all felt hollow, meaningless without you. The noise of the crowds became a distant hum, the adrenaline of winning a game nothing but a fleeting distraction from the aching void that had taken root in his chest.

At first, he had tried to shake it off, convincing himself that he didn’t need you — that he could keep living the way he always had, unattached and carefree. But it didn’t take long for the weight of his guilt and regret to settle in, pressing down on him like an unrelenting force. Everywhere he turned, he saw you. In the empty spot on the couch where you used to sit during his late-night practices, in the way the sunlight streamed into his apartment in the mornings, reminding him of the quiet moments you’d shared, tangled up in each other.

Every day, he replayed that night in his mind, the night you had looked at him with such raw vulnerability and asked the question that tore everything apart. "Did you cheat on me?" The silence that had followed felt like a lifetime, and now, every time he thought back to it, he wished more than anything that he had said something — anything. That he had fought for you, begged for your forgiveness, told you he was sorry.

But he hadn’t. He had just stood there, frozen, letting the best thing that had ever happened to him slip through his fingers.

In the days that followed, Sukuna tried to fill the void with the same distractions he always had. He surrounded himself with people, went out to parties, flirted with women who threw themselves at him. But nothing felt the same. The momentary highs only left him feeling more empty, more alone. He found himself searching for you in every crowd, his eyes scanning for that familiar warmth, that quiet presence that had once brought him a sense of peace he didn’t even know he was missing.

The nights were the worst. When the world quieted down, and there was no game, no crowd to drown out the silence, Sukuna would lie awake, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts would spiral, the regret clawing at him with every passing minute. He would think about all the moments he had taken for granted — the way you’d laugh softly when he teased you, the way you’d always ask him about his day, genuinely caring about the answers. He remembered how your fingers had felt in his hair, how you’d look at him with such tenderness, a tenderness he had never deserved.

He missed you more than he thought possible. It was an ache that wouldn’t go away, a constant reminder that he had ruined the one thing that had ever felt real in his life. And the worst part? He knew it was his fault. He had pushed you away, hurt you in ways he could never take back. He had let his pride, his reckless need for control, blind him to what really mattered. And now, you were gone, living your life without him.

Sukuna had always prided himself on being strong, untouchable. But without you, he felt weak, fragile in a way he had never known. He tried to tell himself that he could move on, that this was just another fleeting chapter in his life. But no matter how much he tried, the truth was undeniable.

He had loved you.

He had loved you deeply, more than he had ever been able to admit, even to himself. And now, it was too late.

In the quiet of his apartment, when the world had long since fallen asleep, Sukuna would sit in the dark, his hands trembling as he thought of you. He wondered if you were happier without him, if you had moved on. The thought tore at him, a bitter mix of jealousy and sorrow. He wondered if you ever thought of him, if you missed him the way he missed you. But he knew, deep down, that you deserved better —someone who could give you the love and respect he had failed to provide.

And that realization was the most painful of all. Because Sukuna Ryomen, the man who had always been in control, who had always lived life on his terms, had lost the one person who had ever truly mattered. And now, no matter how much he regretted it, there was nothing he could do to change that.

The guilt, the regret — it consumed him. It followed him every second of every day, a constant reminder of what he had lost. And no matter how many games he won, how many women threw themselves at him, it was never enough to fill the void you had left behind.

He had always loved you — deep down, in ways he could never put into words. But Sukuna had been too blind to see it, too arrogant to admit it, and far too terrified to confront the feelings that stirred in the depths of his heart. Love had always been something distant, fleeting, a game he thought he could play and leave behind. Until you came along.

But now… now it was too late. Or was it?

The ache of your absence gnawed at him constantly, a slow, suffocating weight that only grew heavier with time. Days turned into weeks, then months, and still, you haunted his every thought. The memory of your smile — soft and real in a way nothing else in his world was — burned behind his eyes when he tried to sleep. The warmth of your voice, the way you’d say his name with that tenderness he didn’t deserve, echoed in the quiet corners of his mind, filling every silence with your absence.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna felt utterly lost. It wasn’t the fame or the women or the adrenaline of the game that he craved anymore. It was you. Just you.

He remembered the night you left—the look on your face, the pain in your eyes, how you had tried so hard to hold back the tears as you walked away from him. And he had let you. He had stood there, watching you leave, unable to say the one thing that might have kept you with him.

“I love you.”

Those words had been trapped inside him, buried beneath his pride, beneath the layers of fear and self-doubt. And by the time he realized the truth, you were already gone.

Now, every moment without you was an unbearable reminder of what he had lost. He’d see you in the smallest of things — the scent of your perfume lingering in the jacket you once borrowed, a song on the radio that had played during one of your late-night drives. And each time, the regret hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless, wishing he could turn back time, undo the hurt he caused.

But the most painful realization of all? He knew you had loved him too. You had given him your heart on a silver plate, placed your trust in him, and he had shattered it. He had taken you for granted, thinking you’d always be there, always waiting. But you weren’t. You couldn’t.

Sukuna thought about calling you every day. His finger would hover over your name in his phone, his heart pounding in his chest as he wrestled with the fear that maybe it was too late — that maybe you had moved on, that you were happier without him. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, didn’t deserve another chance. But he also couldn’t live with the idea of never trying.

The Last Chance

One night, after yet another game that left him feeling emptier than ever, Sukuna found himself standing outside your apartment building. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his breath clouding in the cold night air as he stared up at the window where he knew your light used to shine. Everything in him screamed to turn around, to leave before he made things worse. But he couldn’t. Not this time.

He knocked on your door, his heart hammering so loud he could hear it in his ears. When you opened it, he was struck by how much he had missed you — how seeing your face, even for a moment, sent a shock of warmth through the ice that had settled over his heart.

You stood there, staring at him in disbelief, your expression guarded, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes. Hurt, yes. But also the smallest glimmer of hope.

“I know I don’t deserve to be here,” Sukuna said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, raw. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But there’s something I need to tell you, and if you still never want to see me again after this, I’ll walk away for good.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t close the door either. So he continued, the words he should have spoken months ago tumbling out all at once.

“I was a coward,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I thought I could run from what I felt, that I could keep pretending I didn’t need anyone. But I was wrong. I need you. I love you. I’ve always loved you, but I was too scared to admit it, even to myself. And now, I’m standing here, asking — no, begging— for one more chance. Because losing you… it’s the only thing that’s ever made me realize what love really is.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and for a moment, Sukuna thought he had broken you all over again. His chest tightened with fear, and he was ready to turn away, to walk out of your life for good. But then, you spoke, your voice trembling but soft.

“Why now, Sukuna ? Why did it take losing me for you to see ?”

He swallowed hard, his throat burning as he fought to keep his composure. “Because I didn’t know what I had until it was gone. I was selfish, and I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you for another chance. Let me prove that I can be the man you deserve.”

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. And then, slowly, you stepped aside, letting the door open just a little wider. Your eyes met his, filled with pain but also a spark of something that hadn’t completely faded.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you whispered.

And in that moment, Sukuna knew he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let you slip away again. He’d hold onto you with everything he had because now he understood — losing you had been the beginning of the end. But maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new. Something real. Something that could last.

It wasn’t too late after all.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago

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Hello,

I have a writing prompt for Michael Kaiser (Blue Lock): Kaiser gets into a pr relationship with an actress and they eventually bond and fall in love.

I think he would have a hard time because of his feelings of worthlessness, but this guy has so much potential, I swear, I love him so much.

If you want to go for a "dark side of Hollywood" type of concept, imagine: a young girl who was raised under the pressure of becoming "the perfect star" and surrounded by the chaos of the industry (Idk, the movie Black Swan comes to mind, or the typical representation of Marilyn's life, something along the lines). I think he could bond with someone who is in a similar mind space as him, but who externalizes it differently, remaining kind and such. He definitely needs someone who is empathetic and can see through his insecurities, and I really like the concept of two characters who are hurt helping each other heal.

If you don't want that much drama, scratch the idea of a hurt oc. Think about someone with an "entrepreneur" mindset: someone ambitious, confident, and level headed, who (again) is empathetic and would call him out and help him grow (I'm thinking about sae, but emotionally competent lol).

You don't really have to go for any of this though, it's just meant to get you inspired to write something for my boy Kaiser. I hope it's not too much. Also, there's no rush at all!!

Thank you in advance. I hope you have a good day 🩷

── THE INSTRUMENT

Synopsis: Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.8k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, implied/referenced abuse, call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, open ending, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: hiiii anon ty for requesting!! i hope that i wrote kaiser in a somewhat satisfactory way 😫 this is my first time writing for him so idk if i got him right 😓 also i have NO idea why but for some reason i decided to write this in the present tense which i literally have never done?? so if it sounds off that’s why 💔 i’m so sorry i really don’t know what possessed me SKDJFSHKL

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It’s hot and like a bruise, your first phone call with Michael Kaiser. He’s that brand of aggravating and just shy of painful to speak with; morbidly, you wish for the conversation to manifest as some kind of actual injury, perhaps on your upper arm, so you can poke at it until it is tender and blooming. But of course, that sort of thing isn’t possible, so you amuse yourself by tapping your fingers against the counter and considering what you might eat for dinner.

“Did you hear me?” he snaps when you do not respond to his proposition immediately. He speaks with an accent, clipped and short, lending severity to his words even when he’s saying nothing of note. “Miss L/N. It’s in both of our best interests to cooperate.”

He’s not wrong about this. It’s the only reason you’ve stayed on the call for as long as you have — it’s in your best interest. It’s the same for him, too, and the thought almost makes you laugh, because who would’ve expected your interests and his to ever align?

“Of course I heard you,” you say, twisting open your bottle of water, taking a sip and idly wondering if he can hear an accent when you speak, too. It’s difficult for you to notice your own, but maybe to him, you sound as odd as he does to you. “You should learn patience, Mr. Kaiser. Such a heavy request you’re making of me, and yet you demand my answer immediately?”

He huffs. “It’s not something you need to dwell on.”

“It might be,” you say, though it’s not at all. Your mind was made up the moment he asked; everything after that has been nothing more than a ploy to irritate him. You’re good at that, at irritating people. Michael Kaiser is not an exception.

“Miss L/N,” he says again, something like a darker version of pleading creeping into his tone. “Your answer. Now.”

“Well, you already knew before you asked, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ll do it,” you say. “It’s a mutually beneficial partnership. Though I expect you to really try your best, Mr. Kaiser, or else it’ll all be for naught.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says.

“Between the two of us, who is the actress?” you say, chuckling when he is silent. “I am sure that I will be convincing. It’s you who I worry for. Hiding your true feelings has never been one of your strengths, has it? Or you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all.”

“Shut up,” he says after a moment has passed. “I doubt your acting skills are anything to brag about.”

“I know you’ve watched my movies,” you say, and when he doesn’t refute this, you beam. “Have you really?”

“Only because someone I know suggested I should,” he says. “If I want to love you, then I have to understand you. That’s what he told me.”

“And what did you think?” you say.

“I thought that I don’t plan to love you at all, and then I told him as much,” he says, the force of his eye roll transmitting even over the phone. You’re not sure if he’s acting deliberately obtuse or if he really thinks you care about this inane conversation he’s describing, but either way you sigh, because his answer is so telling of his personality.

“I was talking about my movies,” you say.

“I don’t prefer the genre,” he says, and then he’s hanging up with a promise to call you later, if he is so inclined. He doesn’t tell you not to call him, but you feel like he implies it, so you vow to set your phone aside and pay him no mind for the rest of your evening.

I’m dating Michael Kaiser, you type in the body of your email to your manager, who you are certain will be so delighted by this news that he will combust spontaneously upon hearing it. You want to type it again, this unbelievable turn of events, so you do. I’m dating Michael Kaiser. Then you delete the repetition, reverting it once again into a formal email, instead of a giddy celebration over an event which should not prompt giddiness or anything resembling it.

It’s a relationship meant to salvage his ruined reputation and boost your career in one fell swoop, and so it’s a relationship that can only work if it’s formed between you two in particular. He, who is a foul-mouthed soccer prodigy, known better for his crass treatment of others than any actual skills he may possess, and you, a rising star who will do anything to be famous and are already of a serviceable status to be seen with him.

Despite your burst of excitement, the prospect of dating Michael Kaiser isn’t actually a thrilling one. The rumors of his horrid demeanor aren’t rumors, and you know this well, albeit through secondhand accounts. Cruelty is the way that he operates, his so-to-speak basal mode, and because it is so intrinsic to his being, you do not fancy that he will deviate from that malicious rule, even for you.

But you are accustomed to a false existence. Donning a facade and masquerading as a person who you are not is the only thing you are good at, are good for, and this time is no different than every other. You will put on the mask of a woman who is loved by Michael Kaiser, who has tamed that mad emperor and turned him into her sweet pet, and you will once again fool the world into believing you.

He’s doing an interview today. You’re only aware because he texts you right before and tells you to turn on the TV to a channel you’d never choose if you had a say in the matter. But you’re intrigued and he refuses to explain further, so you do as he commands and find yourself watching as he reclines back in a leather armchair and smirks at the host, who’s clearly nervous.

She’s pretty, her hands shaking but her expression serious. You’ve never seen her before, which means she’s new. Of course, that’s not a surprise; only someone very inexperienced or very stupid would invite Michael Kaiser to their show, and she does not seem to be particularly stupid, so her affliction is the first.

“Um, Mr. Kaiser, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” she says, like she cannot quite believe that he is actually there, or like she is afraid of what he might take offense at, or some combination of the two.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he says, all roguish and self-assured, which is such a contrast to his typically surly demeanor that you have to commend the girl for keeping her composure.

They speak at length about his soccer career, throwing around words you do not understand and do not care to. It’s so boring you almost power down the television and tell him you think as much, but then the girl clears her throat, her face turning a comical shade of red as her fists clench the paper she’s been reading off of.

“This last question is from our viewers, but it’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then it’s not a problem,” she says, squirming in her chair, probably hoping he does not humiliate her. It will be bad for her career if he does, even if by now everyone knows what kind of person he is.

“Go on, then. I feel like we’ve built a rapport here, so I don’t mind it as much if it’s from you,” he says. It’s a perfectly packaged sentiment. His PR team must have tortured him into this new persona. You try to imagine it — it’s definitely a humorous thought, picturing the Bastard München representative slamming Michael Kaiser’s face into a bowl of water for every snarky comment he makes. Unrealistic, though. They would never risk compromising his performance like that.

“There’s rumors that you’re seeing Y/N L/N, the actress. A source who claims to be close to you both mentioned it online, and people can’t stop talking about the possibility. Neither you nor Miss L/N have addressed it, though, and our viewers were hoping you might…?” She cringes back, already preparing for one of his tirades, but he only smiles genially and winks at the camera. You remind yourself to tell him later that he’s laying it on too thick, even if you are enjoying this new character that he’s playing up for the sake of it.

“Y/N L/N? I’m shocked that you think I’m handsome enough to date someone like her,” he says. Your phone buzzes — it’s your manager, crowing about how impressed he is with your ‘boyfriend’ and his presence of mind.

“So it’s a no?” the interviewer says, almost hopefully. He’s mysterious when he shrugs, mysterious and more than a little coy, as if she’s flattering him and he’s too shy to accept the praise.

“If Miss L/N ever deems me to be worthy of her, then it’s a yes in a heartbeat,” he says. It’s an excellent setup for his redemption, and the girl plays into it so beautifully that you tell your manager to send her flowers or some chocolate at the earliest possible opportunity.

“I think that you’ve shown yourself to be an excellent candidate today,” she says.

“Have I? I’ve really been trying to prove myself,” he says. Dreamy sighs ripple through the live studio audience. Someone whistles. It’s all very romantic and fairy-tale-esque, although he is far from being any kind of prince.

“You’re doing great,” the girl assures him. “I’m sure that, if Miss L/N is watching, she’ll have no choice but to be smitten.”

“If she’s watching? Oh, the thought didn’t even cross my mind,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You shouldn’t have doubted him and his audacity; he’s fallen into the role as if he were born to play it. “How embarrassing. I’ve just confessed to her on live television without even knowing if she’s interested…”

He’s actually blushing. You are doubly awed — he’s a natural-born talent. It’s a shame that he’s devoted to soccer; he could make it out like a bandit in the acting industry.

“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. How could she ever reject someone like you?” she assures him. How, indeed! At the moment, you are so pleased that you could kiss him. He’s better than any co-star you’ve ever had to work with, in that he is making your job exponentially easier instead of exponentially more difficult.

“If she really is watching, then I can only pray she heard you say that part,” he says, waving in greeting, presumably at you. “Hello, Miss L/N. I really admire you, so if you find me at all agreeable, then I would quite like it if you would say yes to the date I’m going to ask you on.”

He’s made the world swoon and your social media mentions triple. People are begging you to say yes, to give him a chance, to see how he has changed. They want to live through you, and you will let them.

When he calls you, you tell him you were thrilled by his performance. This causes him to shoot back that he finds you insufferable and condescending, to which you say that it’s what makes you and him such a perfect pair. Then you recite an address, and he asks you what you’re going on about. You answer that it is the place where you will have your first date, and then you hang up before he can respond, just so that you can deny him the chance to do it to you first.

Cameras flash in your faces as you enter the restaurant your manager has booked a reservation at. Michael Kaiser’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and it’s nauseatingly domestic, the kind of scene that would be the cover for one of those coming-of-age movies your agent loves booking for you. You wait for the frantic sound of camera shutters to slow, and then you tug on his sleeve.

“What is it?” he says. It’s quiet enough that no one else can hear, which is why it’s devoid of any warmth, but you are unruffled.

“Your tie,” you say. “It’s not crooked, but we will pretend that it is, and I’ll fix it so that there is something sweet to accompany the tabloid articles that will come out tomorrow.”

Your hands reach for his neck, and he does something you do not comprehend — flinching back, he shakes his head. When he realizes he’s done this, he grits his teeth, like the anger can make up for the temporary weakness. You do not press the issue, merely furrowing your brow and gazing up at him, doing your best to ensure that your eyes remain soft, so that the exchange is not misinterpreted by the parasites around you.

“No,” he says. “Do something else, but leave my tie alone.”

“Alright,” you say. It’s not sensible for you to argue, and anyways it doesn’t matter much what you are doing, as long as you are doing something. Humming to yourself, you adjust the lapels of his jacket. The cameras go off again. You pretend like you do not notice, like the world consists of only you two, and then you interlace your fingers with his, allowing him to drag you into the restaurant behind him.

It’s your turn to be interviewed. You’re wearing a dress, your legs crossed at the ankles — it’s demure and practical and prevents anyone from leering at you, so it’s been a habit of yours for quite a while. The interviewer is female, though, which calms you a bit. She’s older, around your mother’s age, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind you that you should call your parents and arrange for them to meet your doting boyfriend.

“Miss L/N, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!” the woman says. You think her name may be Anne, but she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet, so you’re not certain.

“You are too kind. If anything, it’s an honor for me to be here,” you say. The audience really likes that, when you are humble and shy and so darling. It’s palatable and easy for them to digest, or that’s what your manager tells you.

“Tell us about your upcoming projects,” she says after giving you the appropriate amount of praise for your charming personality.

“I’m currently shooting a new romantic comedy, but I’m afraid it’s all very hush-hush, so I can’t say too much about it. I think you all will really enjoy it, though, and I’m looking forward to the day that we can discuss it at length,” you say.

The conversation goes on like that for a bit, but you know she’s going through the motions because she has to, not because she wants to. There’s only one question she cares to ask, but if she just talks to you about your boyfriend and not your own accomplishments, then she’ll be blasted online as an anti-feminist. You hear quite frequently that this is akin to suicide in the world of marketing, so you can’t blame her.

That doesn’t stop you from having some fun. When she’s exhausted every possible avenue of questioning you about your future plans and past successes, you make as if you’re going to stand up and leave. Panic leaps across her face, and you snicker.

“We’ve spoken at such length about my acting career. You can’t possibly have any more questions about it, hm? You probably know more than my manager does!” Your attitude is balanced out by the joke. The audience laughs. It’s a fine line that you walk, but if you do not have the chance to act sharper every now and again, you believe you will die — internally if not externally — so you take such risks when you can justify them to yourself.

“You’re dating Michael Kaiser now, aren’t you?” she says. It’s a rancid curiosity she hides with a motherly type of concern. You brush off your legs, recross them, and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I am,” you say. You don’t have to play the games that he did; you both are established now. Official. A bona-fide couple. Anyways, it’s more appealing if you are outright with it.

“How has that been? You’ve really made a difference in that young man’s life, it seems,” she says.

The best way to lie is to tell the truth. “Yes, I suppose I have, but he has made an equal difference in mine. He is as good for me as I am for him; truly, I never understood what it meant when my parents called each other their ‘better halves’ until we met.”

In an hour, there will be thousands of posts online about this. If Y/N and Michael break up, then I don’t believe in love anymore! Maybe soulmates are real! Couple goals! These are the kinds of captions you are anticipating. The two of you will send screenshots to one another and laugh about how gullible the world is, and then you will strategically plan which comments to like and posts to favorite so that your message goes through. That’s the extent of your relationship with him, really, at least when the two of you are alone. The detachedness makes things much easier than they otherwise would be.

“There’s a popular theory going around that the two of you have had a secret wedding already. Is it true? Am I speaking to Mrs. Kaiser at the moment?” she says, eyes glittering like a vulture’s. She’s ready to pounce on any hesitation, any brief indecision that you might show, but you have spent more time in the spotlight than in your own parents’ home, so you don’t even waver.

“Marriage! I think we’re a bit too early in our relationship to be considering such things, and a bit too early in our lives to be rushing into major decisions like that,” you say. “If and when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know, but it won’t be for a while.”

It won’t be at all, actually. This relationship is not going to last for more than another month. Once the buzz surrounding you two dies, you and he will quietly split. It’ll be as if you never met in the first place.

Your phone rings as you’re leaving the studio. The caller ID says that it is Michael Kaiser, and the thought that he was watching your interview in the same way you watched his makes you feel odd.

“Hello?” you say.

“I’m not gonna marry you. Never-fucking-ever. If you’re expecting a ring, then put it out of your mind.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “How else would you have liked me to answer that question?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Neither of you hang up on the other — you don’t think you can summon the wherewithal to, which is out of character for him but typical for you — though you both also don’t speak any further. He stays on the line while you drive home, breathing softly like he is sleeping, but you are sure that he is not. The point of it is lost on you, but then you drive into a tunnel and the call ends on its own, so it’s moot anyways.

Your parents are excited to meet Michael Kaiser. They’ve read up on him extensively, watched all his interviews and even his game highlights. Your mother calls you the night before just so she can gush to you about how handsome he is, how you’ve really done well for yourself this time around. Her approval is nice to have, though superfluous, like a luxury soap or perfume.

Your father is the one who suggests you all go golfing. You don’t know how to play, and neither does your mother, but you recognize it’s his attempt at connecting with who he thinks is your boyfriend, so you accept. You’re not sure if Michael Kaiser knows how to play golf, or really anything besides soccer, but he is game enough to come that you suppose he must.

It’s warm out, the sun beating down on your father’s brow as he lines up the ball with his club. Michael Kaiser stands on his left, and you think he’s somehow beautiful in this lighting. Not beautiful how your many attractive coworkers are, but in a manner which is distinctly him and therefore utterly irreproducible. His body is lean and graceful, his hair shaggy and gold, though he’s dyed the tips blue in what you’re sure is a statement. The shade matches his eyes, and also the inked roses on his neck. You have long ago come to the conclusion that the flowers are also a part of that same statement, but you have yet to discover what that statement might be.

“He’s an improvement from that last boyfriend of yours,” your mother says, leaning back so that she can pour the last few drops of soda from her empty can into her throat. You and her are sitting together in the golf cart, seeking refuge in the shade of its plastic roof, sharing the drinks that your father had bought for himself and forgotten about the instant he stepped onto the golf course.

“He is,” you say. That’s not an exaggeration, nor is it something incredible. Your last boyfriend was an old classmate of yours who loved your celebrity more than he loved you. Michael Kaiser doesn’t love you, either, but he is honest about it, and you do not love him back, so there is no resentment between you and him.

“I like the way he looks at you,” your mother says. There’s a hiss as she opens a new can of soda. It’s a vice, but whenever you remind her of it, she dismisses you. She wants to have fun while she’s on this earth, apparently. Maybe drinking five cans of soda in one sitting means her life will be shorter, but life without soda isn’t worth living anyways, or something like that. The reasoning is stupid, but you know she is loyal to it, so you have to accept it. “It’s refreshing. So gentle. You’ll be talking to someone else, and he’ll just be staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re his.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” you say.

Your mother is about to say something else, but she is interrupted by a loud whoop. Michael Kaiser has hit a hole-in-one, and before you can tell him to stop embarrassing himself, your father is cheering, throwing his arms around him and calling him son.

“Your father likes him, too,” your mother said.

“Oh, he needs to stop that! I can’t believe he’s making things so awkward,” you say, getting up to reprimand him before realizing that there is an entirely foreign sheen to Michael Kaiser’s eyes as he rests his chin on your father’s shoulder. He is not quite smiling, but it is a close approximation of the expression, and when your father ruffles his hair and says that it may have been beginner’s luck but he’s proud regardless, the curve of his lips becomes deeper.

You don’t understand, but you don’t need to. You may have facilitated it, but the moment belongs to him, and your presence is as unwanted as it is unnecessary.

You sit back down and take a sip of your mother’s soda. She grins knowingly and says that you look like you are in love, too. You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so you hum noncommittally and say that you might be.

You are growing fond of Michael Kaiser. It isn’t a slow realization — actually, it hits you very suddenly one day. He hands you a bouquet of flowers before opening the passenger door of his car for you. You ask him why he’s brought you peonies instead of roses, and he says it’s because he despises roses. It’s such an absurd answer and he says it with such a straight face that you have to cough in order to disguise your choked laughter.

“Those must be some other kind of flower, then,” you say, pointing at but not touching his tattoos, at the delicate petals which fold over his pulse, azure and bright and silky.

“No, those are roses,” he says, his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel. Normally, you wouldn’t ask further, but today you want to prod at his bruise of an existence, so you turn the music down and hug the peonies to your chest.

“But you despise roses,” you say.

“It’s a good reminder,” he says. “No flower lies quite as well as a rose does.”

That is when you are certain that you are partial to him. It is an unavoidable fact and also a treacherous one, but true notwithstanding.

You put the peonies in a vase of water when you get home that night and hope they never die, although you know that they will be gone within the week. It’s how time works. The peonies will die and you two will break up and you’ll have nothing but a bare kitchen counter and thoughts of his intricacies to remember him by.

There are no paparazzi around on the night when he wraps your hands around his throat. You are alone with him, sequestered away in the living room of his mansion, a bowl of popcorn shoved between the two of you while a movie plays in the background. This seclusion defeats the original purpose of the relationship entirely, but you sense that that original purpose is no longer fully applicable, so you do not refuse when he calls you and demands you come.

There’s a blanket tossed over your legs, the brilliant colors of his soccer club’s emblem faded from repeated washes. It’s warm, and if you were not busily eating most of the popcorn, you’d pull it up around your shoulders. As for Michael Kaiser, he’s facing the screen, his hair tied back in a knot, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and reflecting the visage of the lead actress as she laughs. You observe him as you snack. You’ve seen this movie before and didn’t really like it, so you’re not missing much. He’s more interesting by far.

“I know that woman,” you say, so that he has to acknowledge you.

“Hm,” he says.

“She’s a jerk,” you say.

“Sounds like your kind of company,” he says. You scoff, because he’s not wrong. He keeps watching the movie, and you keep watching him, until a thought occurs to you.

“Can I call you Michael? Even when it’s just us two,” you ask. He purses his lips. The actress screams. Her character has just died, but the scene is poorly shot and even more poorly acted, so it’s not as heart-wrenching as it should be. You would’ve done better, but your agent doesn’t want you taking any gory roles, and your manager agrees. In his professional opinion, it’ll ruin the doll-like persona you’ve spent so long cultivating. He’s probably right. It’s hard to adore a doll once you’ve watched it die so gruesomely.

“You can do whatever you want,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing another mouthful of popcorn, the salt lingering on your tongue long after the popcorn itself is gone. “Michael.”

“Yes?” he says.

“Nothing,” you say. “I just wanted to say your name.”

“Okay,” he says. “Y/N?”

He’s never called you that in private. Of course, when you’re out and about, he must refer to you with such familiarity, but in private you’ve never been anything but Miss L/N. It’s a change but a good one. You don’t want to ever be Miss L/N again. Not to him.

“Yes?” you say.

“I’m trying to watch this movie,” he says. “It has high ratings, so be quiet and allow me to finish.”

“It’s shitty,” you say, yawning and leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve created for yourself. “Overly gratuitous with its use of fake blood.”

“Right, because that’s a cardinal sin,” he says dryly.

“Sorry, but it’s hard to enjoy films when you know how they’re made,” you say. He picks up the remote and pauses the movie. You blink, because that’s about the last thing you expected from him. Then he turns the TV off entirely and you realize you’ll probably never be able to predict what he does next, so you should stop trying already.

“I know how movies are made,” he says.

“Did you have a secret acting career you never told me about?” you say. It’s a joke, but you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. He’s taken to performing like a fish takes to water, and every day you tell him he should quit soccer and devote his life to cinema because of this uncanny skill.

“Not me, but my mother was an actress, and my father was a director,” he says.

“Was?” you say.

“Maybe they still are,” he says. “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.”

“Why not?” you say. He takes your hands in between his, and you can make out immediately that his instinct is to hurt you, to press his fingertips into your wrists so hard that they leave marks. It’s to his credit that he fights back the urge, fights it back and arranges your palms against his carotid arteries. His jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as he waits for you to realize; when you do, you rip your hands away for fear of wounding him further.

“Don’t pity me,” he instructs you, unpausing the movie like nothing happened. “And don’t ever bring it up again.”

Now that you have his permission to refer to him only by his name, you develop a strange fascination with saying it. He’s amused by your new fixation, answering you in a lilting tone every time you call for him.

According to him, you are like a small nightingale, always warbling, always happy, fluttering around beside him and changing his mood for the better. Well, if you are like a nightingale, then he is like a dog, and you tell him as much when you are sitting across from him at a coffee shop.

“A dog?” he repeats, his face pinching. He’s just taken a swig of the black coffee he always orders, but you know his disgusted expression isn’t a symptom of the beverage’s bitterness. “Take that back.”

“Not in a bad way,” you say. Your own drink is sweet, so you sip on it slowly to prevent a stomach ache. “I’m not calling you pathetic. I just mean that you are amiable and lively. It’s a compliment.”

“It’s not who I really am,” he says. “Have I deceived even you? Amiable? Lively? Remember why this entire scam began in the first place — because I am neither of those things.”

“Right,” you say. “A peacock, then. Terribly vain and entirely alluring.”

He relaxes and raises his cup to his mouth again. He’ll be up late tonight, he always is when he has coffee, but it never stops him from drinking it. “That’s better.”

The reminder that whatever you have with him is not real stings more than it should. You throw away your drink almost untouched, which does cause him to raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he refrains from commenting. It’s a relief, because you don’t even know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him.

He walks you to your front porch and waits with crossed arms as you fish for the key in your purse, shoving it in the lock once you have it in your grasp. His farewell when you open the door is stilted and abnormal, so you stop him with a hand on his arm before he can go.

“Michael,” you say. You’ve never said his name like this before. It comes from a place raw and deep within you, a place that you are certain is purple and black like a wound. You say it like you love him, and you think it must be because you do.

“Yes?” he says. It’s the way he always responds to you, his voice like a song, a small smile on his ordinarily strict face — though today, he is not smiling. Instead, he is frowning, like he has come to an understanding that he would have rather not reached.

“Never mind,” you say. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” he says. He drives away, his car disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the still-open doorway and wondering how you will survive the day when he disappears permanently.

You’re not sure what it is about him that makes pretending difficult, but suddenly, it’s a struggle for you to maintain your aloof front. You find it disconcerting, that he has taken this aspect of your identity and rendered it entirely null and void; it’s even more disconcerting that he has done it unwittingly and unsympathetically. If you loved him any less, you would hate him, because he has stolen who you are and left you blind and fumbling, but you fell for him, and the way you landed broke something fundamental, so that it is impossible for you to get back up.

“I think that I love you,” you say. You are on his couch again, and there is a movie playing again, which is all too similar to a past scenario that you think about when you are lonely. Tonight, it’s some soccer documentary that you find so tedious you are driven to irrationality.

He drops the glass of water in his hands; you reach out and catch it before it can spill, setting it on the table in front of you.

“What?” he says. You shrug.

“I love you,” you say again, and you’re flippant about it because you’re not telling him in the hopes he loves you, too. In fact, you know that he does not, so you are using him as a confessional; after all, the minimum he owes you is sharing the burden of this sin.

“There’s no one around,” he says. “You don’t have to lie. It won’t gain us anything.”

“It hasn’t gained us anything in a long while,” you say. It’s true — your relationship isn’t trending anymore, and most of your dates are in locations where you will not be recognized.

He stands up. The documentary continues as he paces, and a referee blows a whistle while he tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls. You stay on the couch, your eyes following his erratic movements, your hands folded in your lap.

“No, you don’t,” he says.

“I don’t what?” you say.

“You don’t love me,” he says. He wants to sound callous, you are sure of it, but the effect is lost on you. He sounds more lost than anything.

“But I do,” you respond. “Who are you to tell me I don’t?”

“Don’t,” he says. “Stop it. This instant.”

You laugh incredulously. “Do you think it’s that easy? I wouldn’t feel like this in the first place if it was.”

“Why?” he says. He’s still pacing. It’s like watching a tiger in a zoo. You want to study him, but he demands your attention in a different way. “Y/N. Why me? Why at all?”

“The reasons don’t matter, do they? I can tell you, but they won’t change anything,” you say, shrugging. “If you find yourself in the kitchen, bring water back for me. I’m thirsty.”

“Drink mine,” he says, pointing at the cup you had narrowly saved from disaster. “And quit your avoidance. Tell it to me plainly. Why?”

“Because you are you,” you say once you have drained half of his glass and your tongue is not quite as papery. “It’s a series of things; there’s not just one concrete reason. You hate roses and only drink black coffee. My mother thinks you’re handsome and my father is convinced you’re a golfing genius. You are a dog but also a peacock and then again an emperor. Don’t ask ridiculous questions and expect me to answer them when I cannot.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says. “I’ll hurt you, Y/N, and I don’t — I don’t want to. You’re the only one who I don’t want to hurt, so just give up. It’s for the better if you do.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I don’t think you can.”

“Of course I can,” he says. “It’s the one thing I’m capable of. The only way I know how to love someone is by hurting them. I’ll do the same to you if you let me, and if you’re telling the truth, then you will let me.”

“Because I love you?” you say. “You think I’ll let you hurt me because I love you? For shame, Michael. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Please,” he says. It’s a word he’s never said, not to you and not in his life. Its weight hangs before you, pulsating in the air like it’s tangible. “If I love you, I’ll destroy you. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll destroy me.”

It’s a selfless desire that he’s disguising as a selfish one. You’re good at pretending, but you’re not good at telling when others are. That much is obvious, because if you had any talent at the latter then you would’ve seen that he’s loved you for as long as you have loved him, maybe longer. He loves you and so he’s urging you to flee, to destroy him before he can do it to you first.

“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh?” you say, exhaling and finishing off the rest of his water. “Listen to me.”

“No,” he says. His obstinance is endearing, but you throw a pillow at him instead of cooing like you want to. He catches it and tosses it back. It lands beside you with a thump. You pat it for emphasis.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you.”

He plugs his ears with his fingers. “Nope.”

“I love you, I love you — hey, I know you can hear me!” you say.

“La la la,” he shouts over your voice, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!”

“You’re cruel,” you say. “I won’t deny it. I know who you really are, Michael Kaiser. You possess cruelty in spades, but it’s in the way that a rose does. You have grown malice like thorns so that no one may come near your heart, and you think these thorns will tear me apart when I extend my hand past them. What you aren’t accounting for is that I have done so already. I have reached your heart and still I am intact. Now, what is there to cause me harm — a mere flower? But a flower can’t cause anyone harm, least of all a person such as myself. You can’t, or more importantly you won’t. I believe that you won’t.”

He stares at you. The soccer team in the documentary still playing behind him scores, and the crowd roars in approval. You stare back at him and wait.

“I hate roses,” he finally says. “I hate them a lot. They’re the worst kind of flower.”

“I don’t know about that,” you say. “I quite fancy them.”

“They prick your fingers,” he says.

“Not if you are gentle,” you say. “Not if you understand them.”

He buries his face in his hands. “Go home, Y/N.”

You do as you are told, flagging a taxi and shivering while you wait for it. You wish for things to be different, but the amount of unfulfilled wishes you’ve made outnumber the stars in the sky, so you add this one to the list and vow to move on.

You have no desire to leave your bed the next morning, but you are also hungry, and your hunger wins out over your despair. You muster up the energy to roll out of your sheets and trudge downstairs, but you are miserable as you do so. You are utterly miserable, and the fact that you are only worsens the feeling, trapping you in an endless kind of loop.

When you enter your kitchen, you are surprised to see a pot of flowers sitting innocently on your counter. You didn’t put them there, so you should feel afraid, but they’re roses, and they’re the same arresting shade as the sky, so you don’t. You only grin, slowly and then all at once as you begin to giggle helplessly.

There isn’t a card or an explanation provided, but you don’t need either. You already know who they are from.

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #fake dating #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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nina-ya · 10 months ago

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Hello hello nina-chwan! I have this idea that I would love to read from you if it’s interesting enough? It’s about the female crush or s/o (either way is fine🤗) of law and/or marco, and whoever you want to add, who has really long hair (it reaches past her hips/butt) but she always has it in an updo.

So I’d like to know how it will go when they see it down for the first time while she was taking care of it one day. I’m trying to grow my hair out and have always wanted to have it super long so… one piece men + long hair hyperfixation got me wondering ig? 😅

I’m sorry I’m being so awkward but thanks in advance lovely 😅🧡

A/N: HIIII I got to write for the sexy doctors omgggg I also added Zoro too cause why not THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I HOPE YOU ENJOYYY Pairings: Law x Reader, Marco x Reader, Zoro x Reader (separately) CW: None for Law and Marcos parts. References to sex and hair pulling in Zoros part. WC: 982

Law had not intended to intrude on your privacy, but as fate would have it, he found himself needing something from you soon after you had stepped out of the shower. The encounter gave him a view he had not witnessed before- your hair down, still glistening from the shower.

You were absorbed in the act of brushing out your hair when Law entered. The room smelled of your shampoo, and the sight of you taking care of your hair captivated him. Law couldn’t help but stare. He took in the soft scene unfolding before him, and it only fueled his growing infatuation for you.

You caught movement in the corner of your eyes, and turned to see Law. Surprise filled your features as you took in the sight of him leaning against the doorway with a small smirk on his face. “Didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. Your face heated up, and before you got a chance to chastise him, he spoke up again, catching you off guard. “Your hair down suits you.” It was a simple statement, but it was enough to make you stumble over your words.

“Haha, thanks… I, uh...” you started, trailing off as you failed to find the words to respond. Law's gaze lingered onto you as he stepped towards you, stopping just by your side. He didn’t say anything at first; rather he just reached out to lightly touch your hair. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling, and you watched as he twirled the damp lock of hair in his fingers for a moment.

A small smile played on his lips as he continued, “You know, you should wear it down more often.” His words left you in a flustered gratitude.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, “Um, did you need something?” you asked, changing the subject.

He looked at you and an air of realization crossed him that he indeed did come to you initially for a purpose, but it seemed inconsequential now, “I did, but that's not important anymore.” He dropped the piece of hair he was holding and took a step back and looked at you with a smirk as he said, “what’s important now is that you have to start showing me this more often, okay?”

---

Marco had known your hair was long, judging by the intricacies of the hair styles you usually held it up in, but he did not know just how long your hair was. At least until he stumbled across you sitting on the edge of your bed, in the process of tying it up to protect it from what the day may hold.

There you were, your hair falling down your sides, reflecting the light that shone through the window. Parting your hair and preparing to put it up, you looked up and saw Marcos' expression, sensing something was off. You spoke up, “What's wrong?” dropping your hands to your sides as you let go of your hair, opting to pay attention to him instead.

Marco snapped out of his trance and walked up to you as he responded, “Oh it’s nothing.” He took a seat on the bed next to you as he continued, “You just caught me off guard," he reached out and ran his hand through your hair as he continued, “I knew your hair was long, I guess I just never realized how long it was.”

A smile spread across your lips as you felt his fingers run through your hair. “Surprise” you teased. Marco chuckled, his free hand finding its way to yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I like it,” Marco said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “But then again, I like everything about you.” He stopped running his fingers through your hair, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Leave it down for a bit,” he suggested, his eyes lingering on your hair.

“Why?” you asked.

He simply responded with, “I just want to admire the view.”

---

Zoro had stumbled into your room unexpectedly, his horrific sense of direction failing him once again. As he entered, he noticed you sitting by a mirror untangling your hair. Without much of a reaction, Zoro glanced in your direction and muttered a nonchalant, “This isn’t the men's quarters,”

You looked at him in slight surprise at the abrupt entrance and rolled his eyes at the comment. “Zoro, how the hell did you get lost on the ship? It's not even that big,” you asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He grunted in acknowledgement, eyes glancing around the room before he decided to settle on your bed. You continued detangling your hair as Zoro struck up a conversation with you. He leaned against the headboard, seemingly absorbed in the conversation. Every now and then, his gaze would linger on you a moment more than usual, his expression suggesting that the conversation was not the only thing he had on his mind. But you never noticed, as you were too caught up in your own actions.

Soon, he left the room, seemingly unbothered by the new sight of seeing your hair down, but you would soon realize that he was thinking long and hard about it. Ever since that moment, his hands always found a place in your hair. Fingers delicately threading through the strands to lull you to sleep. Gripping firmly to angle your head, seeking better access to plant kisses and bites along the length of your neck. His touch became purposeful– pulling it away from your face into a makeshift ponytail to reveal your teary-eyed expression as you worked to please him with your mouth. Intertwining and tugging hard as he is buried deep within you coaxing the sweetest moans from your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you should have let your hair down sooner.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #one piece fluff #roronoa zoro #marco the phoenix x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #marco x reader #marco the phoenix #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #x reader #Nina Responds~✦#Nina Writes~✦

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sophiaatwdluver · 3 months ago

Text

LESSONS | Carl grimes

Carl grimes x Y/N fluff Summary: Carl teaches you how to drive and he’s worried you will crash and get hurt but your a natural and you prove him wrong taking him by surprise and he finds it hot.

WARNING: slight smut but not strong, boner but no mention of thinking about hard smut

——————————————————————————

You wake up happy and warm at the fact your boyfriend, was right behind you cuddling you. You could hear his steady breath, telling you he’s still sleeping. As soon as you start to drift back to sleep you feel Carl brush your hair on the top of your head with his soft hand gently. You turn to look up at him softly with a bright smile on your face.

“good morning angle” carl says warmly looking down at you with love

“good morning” you reply with the same smile and energy

Carl eyes widen the slightest bit as an idea popped in his brain

“Y/N? Have you ever learned to drive?” Carl asks curiously

“uhmmm, no. Why do you ask?” You question him with your head slightly tilted

“because I want to teach you.”

“when?”

“today, after lunch.”

“ok! Sound like a plan.”

——————————after-lunch———————————

You and Carl are walking towards the gate of Alexandria when he starts to get nervous at the thought of you crashing and getting hurt. He brushed if off thinking that’s only a worse case scenario. You on the other hand are astonished at the fact Carl wanted to help you learn how to drive. You wanted to feel powerful driving a car with Carl by your side. Before you knew if you were in front of the car and Carl was getting into the passengers seat.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Carl asks in somewhat of a concerned tone.

His words made you stop zoning out and actually pay attention which means you stepping into the drivers seat. “Sorry I zoned out a bit, so what do I do first?” You asked

“well first things first you need to put your seatbelt on!”

Carl stated in a joking matter even with the worse case scenario in back of his head.

carl reaches over your body to grab your seatbelt, also buckling you in. His warm body towering over you brought butterflies to your stomach.

“gotta stay safe y’know?” Carl says, again giving you the same loving look he did when he woke up.

(the next part will be kinda boring bc he’s actually teaching her how to get ready to drive)

“ok so first you have move your seat around, find how your seat needs to be for you to comfortably press the gas and break.” Carl states very focused on teaching you how to drive so you won’t crash.

“next, practice moving your feet from the gas pedal to the break.” He was taken by surprise when you slammed hard on the gas and you guys very fastly drove down the rode

Carl looks over to you and can’t help but think how unbelievably hot you looked, very focused on not crashing, slightly turning at some moments with gust one hand, he could feel the growing bulge in his jeans

he couldn’t even deny the fact that you were that you were a natural, already almost as good as him. In the middle of his thoughts he feels you swiftly and fastly turn to head back to Alexandria. when you guys approached the gates of Alexandria Carl turned to you giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

——————————————————————————

HIIII TO WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED IT! This is my first time writing fan fiction and I really hope it doesn’t suck😭 to whoever is reading this! Ty for being on my page or ty for reading this! I know this this was kinda boring but oh well, everyone has to start somewhere! I luv you, and I’m proud of you, always remember that :)

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes fanfiction

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thewulf · 7 months ago

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Hiiii! I read your Paul story and I absolutely loved it!!! I was wondering if maybe you could write about Seth Clearwater? He’s always been one of my comfort characters lol and i’ve had literally the biggest crush on him since I first watched twilight when I was like 12 lmao.

Anyways here’s my request. So basically Y/n is one of Bella’s good friends. Although they’re like really really good friends they could nottttt be any more opposite than they already are. Y/n is an extrovert and leans into more of the cliche popular fun girl type? if that makes sense. anyways so bella was invited to come hang out at the beach(i mean like bonfires and burgers and hotdogs.) with Jacob and basically the entire pack and his family. and bella invites y/n because idk she didn’t wanna go alone? And while bella and jacob are dilly dallying leaving y/n alone she goes to go sit by the bonfire. and embry and the other boys come up to y/n. (because totally hot girl they’ve never met duh ofcourse they’re come up to her and chop it up.) and when y/n looks up at the boys and makes eye contact with seth. botta bing botta boom seth imprinted on y/n and kinda just stands there like a lost puppy and the boys just drag him away. later seth comes back and apologizes for earlier and then they spend the rest of the night just talking and have fun!!!!

idkkk i’ve always loved this idea but i’ve never wrote it out! also i just really love fluff and all that lolll. sorry if my request didn’t make sense i tried putting it all together the best i could lmao. anyways ty for your time!!

Stoppp I love this... and I LOVE cliche even more!! My fav is awkward fluffy so this is quite literally perfect. And Seth is just so cuuuuuute!! Hahaha you got it anon!

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heliswife · 6 months ago

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AHHHH HIIII may i req a general akito n rui x fem!reader (seperate plz) thats apart of a soft band similar to lamp (if you dont know them they're really good !!) theyre not really quiet but more soft ?? similar to kohane atleast or madoka kaname ?? thx !!!! (please eat sleep n drink well !!)

LAMP IS SO CUTE OMG! I love this prompt so much.. ty for the request! I hope you eat, sleep and drink well too! sorry for the wait! :(

aki & rui w a soft reader!

!︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. AKITO

♡-> you def remind him of kohane... he thinks you're adorable (he doesn't grill you like he did in the main story with hane cause you're not pursuing street music idk)

♡-> listens to all your music, loves your voice so so much! something about it relaxes him when he's had a hard day or just needs some cheering up

♡-> he will squeeze you when you two are alone. try cuddling him and he'll never let you escape

♡-> music is bros passion so after listening to songs he loves to give you ideas on what to do next

"you did really good in this song, y/n. maybe you should... [insert whole idea rant here]"

!︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. RUI

♡-> like akito, rui also listens to all your songs. When he's working on an invention or ideas for a new show, he has your music in the background

♡-> jokes about wanting to steal your vocal cords and putting it in a robot

♡-> you're so soft he will sneak behind you and hug you. even in public, you're like a teddy bear to him!

"fufu, your voice is so cute! it would be nice if I got to listen to it all the time, right?"

#pjsk x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsk #hoshii writes #akito shinonome #rui kamishiro #akito shinonome x reader #rui kamishiro x reader

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pjsk-writin · 1 year ago

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hiiii !!!! i hope ur doing wellll <33

could i request platonic vbs and reader playing monopoly? even funnier, everyone turns really competitive and the virtual singers start choosing sides and the game starts getting chaotic. but only fluff, i don't wanna ruin friendships on purpose 😭

thanks so much, hope youre doing welll !! <3

HIIIIII ive been doing great ty!! hope u are too <3 and DGDUCDHXDH OFC, hope u like this !! <3

◇ MONOPOLY - (Platonic!) Kohane Azusawa, An Shiraishi, Akito Shinonome and Toya Aoyagi x Reader

No one really knew where the idea to play Monopoly even came from. All everyone knew was that they were super excited when An arrived at the Sekai with the game

Obviously, Akito and An are already challenging each other (and you if you're very competitive). All four of them are crowding around the manual to make sure they have the rules down pat

It starts out relatively normal, as most Monopoly games do. Kohane's the one buying the most estate while everyone else scrambles to find spots she hasn't claimed yet

However, it very quickly turns into madness. It's the most spirited you'll see everyone, all of them very quick to demand money if someone lands on their spot

Kohane, with the most spots, is doing a lot better than she expects. It's the loudest you'll hear her outside of a performance, and her hands held out for the monopoly cash more often than not

An is battling with Akito for the second most spots, and is very triumphant whenever she manages to get someone to pay her, more than likely laughing and cheering

Akito is battling with An for the second most spots, and he gets very passive aggressive, which isn't too unexpected. He tries super hard to be slick with his offers and building places, but it doesn't work too well

Even Toya gets into it, but he's not nearly as focused on buying property, keeping his attention on making money instead. He's either deadly silent or talking a lot, there's no in between

You're sitting in the middle of it all, and Meiko is there to make sure things don't get too rowdy. The other Virtual Singers and placing bets, so it feels a lot moelre intense than it probably should

Funnily enough, I imagine that Toya is the one who manages to sneak in and steal the whole game, much to everyone else's disappointments. Don't worry though, because you all cool down with some goodies from the cafe <3

#project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #kohane azusawa x reader #azusawa kohane x reader #an shiraishi x reader #shiraishi an x reader #akito shinonome x reader #shinonome akito x reader #toya aoyagi x reader #aoyagi toya x reader

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deapax · 1 year ago

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Hiiii Firstly, I love your fics some days we only need good smut.

I would love to request Agatha Harkness x fem! reader. Agatha fingering reader and then Agatha proposing the idea of use a magic strap for first time so she can feel herself inside reader. Agatha is gentle in the beginning and then she can’t stop herself

Take it easy

Characters: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: After a rough week, Agatha makes plans on how to relax both of you.

Warnings: 18+ smut, fingering (r receiving), magic strap (r receiving), praising, breeding (kinda)

A/N: There you go, enjoy :)

Originally posted by deapax

With a soft groan you dropped down on the couch, work had gotten the best out of you that week and you were more than desperately looking forward to finally relax on the weekend. You could tell you wife was feeling just the same by the way her coat hit the floor and she didn’t even bother to put it back at the hook. The witch settled next to you, wrapping her arms around you before sighing relieved. “I hope you know that all this here is the greatest love proof you could’ve ever gotten by me. Still gotta get used to this everydays life of an ordinary worker like i couldn’t just take over the entire town if i wanted to.” And jt was true, she’d moved to the little town just for you and settled which was quite unlike her. You certainly couldn’t ask for anything more from her. “I know, darling, and you know how much i appreciate the sacrifices you have made for me. For us. I’m Im sorry work isn’t going very smoothly lately, but im certain that there are better times coming.” You assured her before leaning in for a gentle kiss. You could feel her smiling against your lips, which made you melt in her strong arms almost immediately.

Yet it seemed like the witch had gotten a little more into it than you had expected because before you knew it you felt her lips on your neck, her hands on your waist laying you down while she marked you up as she always did. She was rather possessive when it came to you. “Gonna make you feel so much better and forget about work.” She whispered into your ear, planting a soft kiss behind it before her hands moved to unbutton your pants impatiently and pulling them down along with your panties to rest around your ankles. “Aggs you really don’t have to-“ But she simply shut you up with another deep and passionate kiss, her tongue claiming your mouth as you fought for dominance with your own, yet losing the fight not long after. Right, she didn’t have to, but she certainly wanted to. Her hand wrapped around your thigh, spreading your legs open as far as she could with your pants basically tying your feet while her other hand pulled your shirt up, revealing that you were wearing nothing underneath. You let out a soft moan as Agatha wrapped her mouth around it, sucking the sensitive bud, swirling her tongue around it before pulling gently with her teeth until it stood erected. The deep chuckle that left Agatha’s throat indicated that the way you got turned on by her so easily didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh princess, you know you could’ve just told me you needed me to take care of you. God I barely touched you and I can already feel the heat radiating from your core.” She ran two fingers through your wet folds before bringing them up to your mouth, tapping them on your lips. Obediently you opened your mouth and took her fingers in, moaning at your own taste as you sucked and cleaned her fingers. Agatha’s breath hitched watching your tongue doing its best work before she withdrew her fingers and put them in her own mouth, her eyes closing at the taste. That sight alone made you clench your thighs together, that the older witch forcefully spread again to have better access to your throbbing cunt. She ran her fingers over your clit, circling and pinching it for what seemed like ages. By the way she was kissing your breasts you knew she could bare,y hold herself back but wanted to tease just until you broke, which you did eventually. You brought your hand down to Agatha’s, moving it to your gaping hole, practically begging for her to finally fuck you properly. As she didn’t give you much more than a single finger teasing your entry you finally gave in and started begging like your life was depending on it. “Ive been so good today, darling, please i deserve it! Gonna return the favour afterwards i swear but i need you so badly, you cant tease me for so long and leave me like that!” You whined, but it worked according to plan.

Three of the witch’s talented fingers were suddenly filling you up, her palm pressing against your clit as she moved them slowly, hitting you sweet spot with her nails which drew a loud deep moan from your lips. Your head fell back on the pillow, the sensation of your wife’s lips on your tits and her fingers picking up speed drove you insane. You brought your hand down to tangle in Agatha’s dark curly hair, gently pulling it whenever she hit your g spot, making you cry out softly. “God you should see yourself right now, might have to put a mirror over our bed at some point. You’re looking so fucking gorgeous with your smeared make up and open mouth, turning me on so much.” She husked, before another idea popped up in her mind. Just before you could cum she pulled out her fingers and licked them clean. “No no no Aggy, you said i was doing well so why would you stop right before I could even finish once? That’s so unfair, I- oh…”

You stopped complaining immediately when you saw purple mist covering Agatha’s lover half. Once it had faded away you had the perfect view on the purple magic strap standing proudly between her legs. She’d taken you several times with her strap yet something seemed different this time. The witch got rid of the pieces of clothing that was pooling around her ankles so she could settle between your legs and capture your lips in another fiery kiss. “You’re lucky I got turned on so badly otherwise I would’ve made you suck me off.” She husked before cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin as she added: “This will bring both of us pleasure, and you wanna make me happy, don’t you princess?” The idea alone let your mouth water as you nodded. That was one of the advantages of having a witch as your partner, she was always up for new surprises and ideas.

Agatha smiled when she saw you giving her consent before she lined up the strap with your hole and pushed past your entry, letting the tip in to get both of you used to the feeling before she slid the rest of the veiny toy inside you with a soft thrust. Hearing her panting as she slowly pulled back and started fucking you at a steady pace was something you didn’t know you needed until this very moment. You moaned into her mouth, your hands gripping your lover’s ass cheeks as the witch’s fake cock was pushing against your g spot, making your back arch. The way you melted underneath her and the way she felt inside you made Agatha’s head spin. “Fuck, Y/N. If i knew how amazing you feel I would’ve done that so much earlier. God you’re swallowing me just like that, you’re such a good girl for me aren’t you? Make me so proud. You can take some more, I know you can. Gonna make you feel so good, princess.”

You wondered what she was talking about until you were flipped onto your front, Agatha’s hand holding your as up as she knelt behind you, lining up the toy again before pushing right in again, making you cry out in surprise as she suddenly went with a much quicker pace and rough movements, her thighs hitting your ass with ever thrust. “‘M sorry, can’t hold myself back anymore, feel so good.” She moaned, gripping your hair and pulling it as she watched your wetness dripping down your thighs, encouraging her to fuck you even harder. You were sure that the tears that were running down your cheeks from the way Agatha took you were ruining the make up you’d spent hours on doing but you didn’t mind in that very moment, you could barely think straight. “Fuck, gonna cum inside you, princess. Gonna fill you up so well.” She moaned louder, her hand moving from your hair to groap your tits as she picked up the speed one more time, letting you know she was as close as you were, her thrusts becoming sloppier. “Be a good girl and cum for me, Y/N, wanna cum with you.” You’d never heard your wife being so desperate but who were you to deny her request, in fact you couldn’t hold back much longer anyway, the orgasm inside you building up rapidly before you gripped the couch pillow, crying out your wife’s name when you released your cum all over her strap. At the same time the older woman let out a long deep moan as she came inside you as well, pushing her load deep inside you before pulling out, watching the mixed liquids slowly dripping out of your destroyed cunt. With a snap of her finger she let the strap disappear and laid down on the couch, pulling you on top of her to cuddle you gently, her fingertips running over your back. “You did so well for me, princess. Im so proud of you, i knew you could take it. I love you, Y/N, thanks for letting me try it out. Cant say it was an unpleasant experience. Quite so opposite actually.” She chuckled softly, then added: “Couldn’t have started this weekend any better.”

#agatha: darkhold diaries #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #smut #marvel #x reader

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stellas-starry-sillies13 · 5 months ago

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okay hi stella!! this is for the matchup reqs

so for gender boy pls <3

probably blue lock for the fandom (pjsk will probably get a lot of attention and i'm highly obsessed with bllk rn if you couldn't tell lmao)

for my personality i can be rlly shy and awkward when you first meet me, but once you get close to me i'll start acting how i usually do, being friendly and silly (insane and bouncing off the walls) i am definitely an introvert but i can be extroverted to people i'm close with. i'm super insecure sometimes and i get stressed, anxious, and overwhelmed easily

good personality traits are: kind, caring, selfless, good listener, funny

bad personality traits are: too selfless (i stop caring about what i want and only listen to what other people want), annoying (sometimes), when i'm tired i get very lazy

my love language is 100% physical touch, and i like to receive words of affirmation and physical touch

i'm very sensitive to being excluded, disappointing or letting people down, and i feel guilty when people worry about me

hobbies are drawing, reading, playing violin, playing games and watching tv (anime)

some talents i have are writing, playing my violin, and i'm a pretty fast runner! ^^

i'm a-okay with any age range as long as they're a minor! (bc i'm a minor)

so i'm assuming the only characters from bllk i can be matched up with are the ones you could write for from your previous blog (which off the top of my head was isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, and rin???) so out of those 6 i wouldn't want to be matched up with isagi or nagi

what i don't want in a partner would be them telling me off or getting mad at me over small things, or just being an ass in general

what i would want in a partner would be them being really kind and willing to help me with whatever i need, and also someone that loves me for me ^^; and will help me feel better about myself

OKAYYYY that's all ty Stella!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

` . < Bluelock Matchup No.1~! > . '

A/N: HIIII WA ER BO LE.girl. in case you didnt know, someone who is introverted around strangers/acquiantances but extroverted around friends is called an ambivert LOL. Like me :p also im sensitive to being excluded too you have no idea. We kin each other. I kin all my moots. Anyway hop you like this ! !!!!! Thank you for requesting :3

For the grand reveal, I match you up with....

` . < Bachira Meguru~! > . '

A/N: he is literally PERFECT for you.physical affectin? ✔ words of affirmation? ✔ loves yuforo you? ✔ Helps you wuth every single thing to exist? ✔ like wow. Anyway hope you like this

Loves how energetic you are

You guys can bounce off the walls together

You guys are actually probably high on sugar

He loves that youre selfless but he definitely stops you if you go too far

Imagine someones trying to take advantage of your kindess and hes just. Staring. at them. With that huge smile. And those scribble eyes.

Yeah he'll just scare them off

His giving love language probably physical touch so like. No worries. Hes a cuddlebug. He'd also definitely be very affirming with words. He compliments your everything.

You guys probably have races all the time just because you say youre fast. He probably introduces you to chigiri

Also he will always include if youre in a group.

Though lets be honest, you dont need anyone but him anyway

#bllk #Bluelock #Bluelock x reader #Bllk x reader #Bachira meguru #Meguru bachira #Bachira meguru x reader #Meguru bachira x reader #✦ not my books ✦#✦ bluelock ✦

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aakeysmash · 6 days ago

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hiiiii

this is not a request by any means and you don’t have to reply to it. i’m vocal about how i enjoy your writing (a lot), and your stories bring me a lot of comfort. i am in a slow and prolonged process of going through a breakup (tmi i got cheated on and stayed until staying got too much lol), and your work is something that brings me the most joy on tumblr. really glad i found you. so ty ty queen ♥️

i wanted to share a little idea, this might totally be my headcanon for your college sukuna. i feel like he’s very competitive by nature. lowkey the reader might be too, in my head. so i’m imagining a silly situation where they’re playing a board game, or a mobile game, or maybe on console (board and console games were already mentioned in the story, but with precious yuuji). and sukuna and the reader are getting very competitive, with the usual brutal banter, and so on and so forth, not really sure where this scenario leads yet. this could be a story of itself or just a part of their slice of life shenanigans.

this came to my head while playing the new pokemon card game, i got so pissed i cursed at the phone, and caught myself imagining how pissed college sukuna would’ve gotten in this situation (maybe i do need help)

so like i said, this is not a request, just wanted to share a little scene with you and say thank you for the millionth time :3

HIIII BABY THANK YOU FOR DROPPING THIS INTO MY INBOX!!

girl he didn’t deserve u anyway (we’re in this together, i’ve also been cheated on… literally one month ago today 😍). I’m glad my fics bring you a little bit of comfort, and thank you for appreciating them ❤️‍🩹

BUT YES READER AND SUKUNA ARE DEF COMPETITIVE AS HELL 😭 every time they argue they’re really just trying to one up the other one. They’re so silly i love them so much

#user nasiknosiktwo #ily #might drop some hints of their competitiveness in some drabbles 🙂‍↕️

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doodle-pops · 1 year ago

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Kinktober List of Requests 2023

Here is the list of the selected pairings and requests I have chosen for the event. Please note that for some kinks, you will observe more than one request was selected. I did my best to briefly explain the reason for my choices to help you understand.

Corruption Kink — Eönwë x reader (@wandererindreams)

Hi once again! Would you be willing to write Corruption kink with Eönwë? Reader had always been a pure, gentle soul, and while they weren't exactly naive in general, they trusted Eönwë with their life. They would do anything for him. Things they would make them blush beet red just merely having them flash through their mind. And Eönwë can't quite get enough of downright kinky things he could ask of them and watch them perform them or submit to him with such devotion...

Exhibitionism — Irmo x reader (anon)

Hello Mina, hope you’re having a good day so far :) can I request the exhibitionism kink with Irmo where reader is interested in public sex but still has slight reservations so instead, he creates a dream where he takes her in front of others so she feels more secure with the kink?

Fingering — Thingol x reader (anon)

Listen!!! Thingol is a huge tall hunk of an elf right?! So tat obviously means that he has large hands. What if those hands were the source of your pleasure? Thingol using his hands which you love so much to finger you nice and slowly in his private garden.

Size Difference/Stomach Bulging — Celebrimbor x reader (anon)

Hi Mina! Ahhhhh I’m so excited for kinktober this year! Can’t wait to see what you come up with!! Size difference with either Celebrimbor or Rog please? It’s been a rough day in the forge (nothing seems to be going right) and reader offers herself as a way to release the frustration (in short, hot sex in the forge with a big boy please and they splay their hand over your stomach bulge as they take you <3)

Squirting — Turgon x reader (anon): I like the idea of incorporating both prompts while keeping true to the main kink to produce one fic.

For the squirting kink, Caranthir or Turgon x reader please, like maybe both of you are pushing your limits to see how many orgasms you can fulfill in one session and they're either fingering or having sex with you and you're so overstimulated that you squirt on them for the first time? Thank you!

Fingering with Turgon please? Turgon notices how you stare at his hands in a lustful manner, since they’re huge, you come to realize you have a hand kink and want to fulfill that hand kink in the bedroom with fingering?

Thigh Riding — Fëanor x reader (anon)

Hiiii, I've noticed that there isn't much (good) Feanor smut anywhere (basically only a very few blogs write him so well, like you for instance) and you know how much of a simp I am for this fiery baby... Can I have a time when Feanor is having reader thigh-ride him? I feel like he would really love that, and maybe add some edging until he finally lets her cum?

Mirror Kink — Finrod x reader (anon & @wandererindreams): the description of both will be merged into one fic since both requests carried the same pairing.

Mirror kink for Finrod and an artist!reader, who is a bit shy about their appearance? Do you think as well that it would be delicious? Like...she sees beauty everywhere (especially in Finrod) but rarely in herself?

Finrod x reader with mirror sex kink, basically its on their wedding night and reader is kinda insecure with their body, and finrod tries to make them feel better by showing them that they're perfect just the way they are. Thank you 💖

Bondage — Ecthelion x reader (anon): description of both will be merged into one fic since both requests carried the same pairing.

Girl I’ve been up since 7am ready for this. 😎 Let’s goooooooo!! Party! Ecthelion x Reader - Bondage. If you need a couple sentences: scene starts with him tying her arms behind her back and making her suck him off to “earn” her orgasm. After that he ties her to the bed for some teasing and overstimulation. Bonus if you can fit a spanking in there somewhere but I understand if not. Pick whatever bondage/rope position appeals the most to you. 👀 I’m a certified rope bunny so I can get down with them all. ❤️ Appreciate you doing these requests ahead of time!

Oh I am so ready for kinktober Mina! For the bondage kink, requesting Ecthelion x reader where he keeps reader tied /chained to his bed for a day (consensually!) free for him to use whenever he wants (i.e. After a meeting to blow off steam, after doing paperwork, for his own pleasure, etc.)

Threesome — Finarfin x reader x Fingolfin (anon)

Good morning/evening, my fav Tolkien writer! 🩵 if you don’t mind, can I ask for a Threesome with Finarfin and Fingolfin when they were younger and sharing the reader in bed? The reader is their friend and a daughter of a lord and her, Finarfin and Fingolfin were all having to have a ballroom dancing lesson. The brothers are taking turns spinning the reader around and having fun but when the reader gets passed to Finarfin the instructor leaves, but they don’t stop dancing with each other and things get a little heated. Fingolfin complains about the lack of attention and he suggests taking the reader to his bedroom inviting his brother to share the her with him. And just pure smut from there I guess? Anyway, thank you for your time! Bye!!

Cockwarming — Maedhros x reader (anon): I liked the descriptions for both and found them similar, so I decided that I will merge both into one fic, keeping true to the main kink.

Hi there, can I request Maedhros x reader for the kinktober cockwarming kink? For the scenario/prompt, maybe a scene where reader is struggling to stay still while cockwarming Maedhros while he’s doing paperwork since he’s so big and just simulating her all the time?

Hi Mina! Exhibitionism with CEO! Maedhros please? Maybe a co-workers has been getting too close to reader lately and Maedhros gets jealous so he engages in sex with reader over lunch to establish dominance and leaves the door unlocked/a sliver open when he knows that coworker would be coming in to give a report soon?

Brat Taming — Erestor x reader (anon)

Hi Mina! For the brat taming kink, requesting Erestor x reader where reader has been teasing Erestor all day but at the end of the day, reader is reminded of their place behind closed doors

Somnophilia — Elladan x reader (anon)

Hello darling Mina! So may I request Elladan x reader and the somnophilia kink where he comes back late from a scouting mission in the north and sees reader having a wet dream so he 'helps' her and then she slowly wakes up? Thanks :)

Vanilla Sex — Argon x reader (anon)

Hi Mina! I’m really excited for what you come up with for this year’s kinktober! Sending you a request for vanilla sex with Argon please? Prompt/scenario would be him taking your virginity :) thank you!!!

Dacryphilia — Námo x reader (anon)

Hi Hiiii! Is there room for a Namo and female reader for dacryphilia. I would just love the idea of reader showing Namo how much he’s pleasuring her so good by her crying out in ecstasy. Cue Namo loving the way she cries and finds her tears beautiful and increasing the volume of pleasure. Maia!reader perhaps? Thank you so much!!!

Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiacs — Elrond x reader (anon)

Hello! Can I request Elrond x reader with the Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac kink, and the scenario is either he accidentally mixes up some herbs and so he's the one who affected OR the reader stumbles upon it as a present or in the wild and goes to Elrond for help because 1. he's a healer and 2. he's her lover.

Hunter and Prey (Pet/Roleplaying) — Beleg x reader (anon)

Beleg x reader where they’re roleplaying - he’s the marchwarden and she’s his prey (someone not supposed to be in the borders)? Sorry if that doesn’t make much sense!

Cunnilingus — Glorfindel x reader (anon)

Cunnilingus with Glorfindel. Perhaps it’s the first time him and reader is meeting (back in Valinor or Imladris) at a ball/party and the sexual tension is high so reader challenges him to show her what his tongue can do since he’s a flirt. Sorry if its all too confusing. A little challenging playful argument between the two and she goes “you think yourself so high and mighty because your speech is impeccable…or rather your tongue!” I hope you can use the dialogue, or maybe make a change but go along the lines of it.

Breeding/Impregnation — Fingolfin x reader (anon): description of both requests will be merged into one fic since they carried the same pairings.

Good morning/evening, Mina!!! For Kinktober may I request Breeding/Impregnation kink with Fingolfin? Reader is his second wife and queen in ME and she nervously confesses to wanting kids but is surprised when Fingolfin says he wants them too and just some loving, filthy smut? Thanks.

Hi Mina! Requesting breeding kink/impregnation with Fingolfin please! Maybe it’s been a while since reader and him have been intimate and there have been rumors spreading around court that you are not doing your duty in bed by producing an heir, so you entice Fingolfin to bed again by insinuating Feanor is better in bed because he has more children than Fingolfin, which ignites his breeding kink. Thank you!

Lingerie — Curufin x reader (anon): I found similarities in both requests and decided that I will merge them into one fic, keeping true to the main kink.

Hi Mina! For the mirror kink, may I request either Egalmoth, where Egalmoth wants you to see how pretty you are as you come undone for him or Curufin, as he adorns you in the jewellery he’s made for you while taking you in front of a mirror so you see how pretty you are? Thank you so much! Love your writing :)

Hello Mina!!! I’m so happy that requests are back on board baby!! Booyah!! Can I get a curufin with a lingerie kink inspired by your ‘What turns them on’ headcanons you did for the Feanorians. It does have a bit of mirror kink/admiration play in it since Curufin is admiring her just her jewelleries (that’s her lingerie), but you can ignore that and just keep his lover decked out in just her jewelleries for him. Thank you

Body-worship/Praising — Egalmoth x reader (anon)

Reader finds it difficult to imagine someone like Egalmoth, a high and noble esteemed elf of Gondolin would even bat and eyelash in her direction and fall in love. She’s convinced that he was only saying those sweet words to her because he didn’t want to embarrass her or let her down, so he decides to show her that she was very much loved and adored by him ignoring the human aspect.

#kinktober request list 2023 #mina's kinktober 2023 #my wips #request wips

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