#DANCE S DANCES I LOVED THESE DESIGNS

[ninjasmudge]

sometimes u gotta do an arena fighter au, for your health

both of them are trying to pay off a contract to the arena. swks their top fighter and brings in revenue, maq does fights too, but hes more of an information broker between the fighters and merchants on the outside (and sometimes the upper authority)

theyve just both been in there so long its like, one day they hate each other the next theyre sharing drinks, if one of thems in trouble, they go to the other one, 40/60 chance theyll help or make it worse

[r4tfromm3rcury]

Yeah toxic yuri political intrigues and murder is cool or whatever BUT WHERE IS MY BOY?????? SUNFYRE??????? (design based on his book self)

[poobit]

i have many thoughts on how Mouthwashing handles the themes of abuse and the symbolism around it especially as a survivor ... im not gnna hold back so -

first of all i think since its clear the point Jimmy is dismissive of Anya´s personhood and his perception is warped towards what he does as a Captain rather than what he does as a man, it makes sense she doesnt get her own labyrinth or such , i cant argue around that because its realistic he´s so male focused he cant even bother to truly think about what he did to her, i would love it if Wrong Organ decides to do a side story vignette of her own perspective and view in the future if the game proves its successful enough for side content like that.

Assault is something usually not handled with subtlety in games, i think what struck me the most was how real the dialogue of her coping and suicidal ideations and how Curly responded to it felt , the dancing around the subject, the deflection, the "whats next" of the ever impending consequence of pregnancy, how Anya pleads for help from the person she trusts but nonetheless a man unequipped and too emotionally attached to the abuser to be able to confront him, its so real, Curly´s lack of initiative is something Jimmy fully takes advantage of the moment things dont go his way, he turns everyone against him even as a helpless body on a bed because he needed to be in control of the situation, thats what abusers do.

A more sensationalistic game would have easily played Anya´s helplessness and assault for shock for sure, because it would be easy, she is the archetypical victim trope, shes modeled in Wendy Torrance likeness from The Shining, shes meek and unsure of herself and Jimmy shoots her down from the very beginning to make her feel unqualified and cornered, but the furthest the games goes is making Jimmy terror towards the pregnancy and the baby as a boogeyman that crawls and tramples over him. No sights of bleeding legs or her crying or screaming and much less present objectification of her body (which is something that i always think the horror genre has such a struggle not grabbing onto, sexuality is mostly always played up in assault stories especially if the victim is an adult woman), she remains a fully clothed figure and maintains the agency to her own demise, away from Jimmy and beside Curly, which is tragic and obviously still a symptom of horror´s proclivity to back female characters into corners of self inflicted punishment, but the alternative would have been that sooner or later, Jimmy would have killed her.

Its clear to me that the game used Curly´s state as a way to put a barrier between Jimmy and Anya, we dont objectify Anya, but we objectify Curly, Anya doesnt just feel pained and unable to handle Curly´s medication because shes in a sensitive state, her comments about his noises and such draws a line between her trauma and her perception of things as Her fault, she cant handle hearing his struggles and cries trying to swallow a pill because it reminds her of her own helplessness, so she leaves the task to Jimmy, someone who has no qualms in forcing someone down, the emphasis of every treatment as a repetitive process and the sound design is all very poignant and for me, a great way to handle assault as a metaphor, Curly did not consent to being in this position, it is very much still Jimmy´s fault and the fact that Jimmy is basically keeping him alive against his will even to the last moment of the game says everything, Jimmy doesnt love Curly the same way he doesnt love Anya.

The horses are not lost on me, i think horses as animals are often seen as "viril" symbols, strong and often volatile, they can be often hard to mount but when one does the rider and animal are seen as this one all powerful entity, like centaurs, which also carry symbolism of assaulters mind you, so while maybe not intentional on the dev´s part i think it still points to the Horse as a symbol still important in the game, the only spoken audio lines of dialog come from the Pony Express mascot Polle itself, and they are the first to actually confront Jimmy´s self centered line of thought and over-focusing on Curly, if the Tulpar is akin to a beast of a burden then Jimmy beat the dead horse way long ago.

All in this to say that Mouthwashing was a really good experience and i really hope the dev team is interested on expanding a bit more on it because i trust their vision.

[mononijikayu]

bed chem — nanami kento.

“Are you free next week?” Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical. You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au;

WARNING/S: romance, love at first sight, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader really wants to have bed chem with nanami <3;

WORD COUNT: 4.8k words.

NOTE: i keep thinking about how much i wrote and how it could be a treat for the entire october in terms of kinktober but i think i realize i'll be too busy starting the 11th, so i won't be showing up to anything, so i'll just be doing all this stuff i can now and posting some in between so i can at least have something for yall, you know? also im realizing my actor sukuna series and this is a minor part of it. its such a good story!!! if you wanna read it the latest chapter is here chapter four; anyway, i hope you can feel my love through out. i'll be seeing you soon enough, though. wish me luck on my upcoming exams <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

kayu's playlist — side 1500;

YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO FORGET THIS NIGHT. And you were happy about that thought. You remember the day you met him vividly, as if it happened just yesterday. You were dressed in a sheer, ethereal gown, moving gracefully through the grand corridors of a buzzing fashion venue.

Models, designers, and staff rushed around in a whirlwind of fabric and creativity, preparing for the show. You were part of that beautiful chaos, your mind focused on the evening ahead. But then you saw him.

Nanami Kento, the famous actor.

He stood out, calm amidst the frenzy, wearing a sharp white jacket that contrasted with the hectic energy around you. His sandy-blonde hair fell neatly into place, and his tall, sturdy frame exuded a sense of quiet confidence.

You exchanged brief pleasantries—just a moment's conversation—but the connection felt palpable. His presence lingered in your thoughts long after. You can’t help it. He was just that enigmatic. He was just that awe-strikingly beautiful.

Later that evening, a friend of his reached out, suggesting the two of you connect. You think that maybe they think you guys are going to be good for each other. Or maybe you could just be friends.

Who knows? You hadn’t expected it, but before you knew it, there was a message on your phone from Nanami Kento himself. And just like that, you found yourself scrolling through his texts, your pulse quickening with every new notification.

Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? The thought danced in your mind, replaying your brief interaction. You wondered if you were imagining it, but something told you this connection was real.

He wasn’t just like any other guy you’ve dated. A lot about him was already an improvement, but you were sure, one hundred percent — he would be everything. Everything that you could ever want in a man. 

Maybe it was all in your head, just a fleeting crush, but you couldn't shake the feeling. You have never felt like this before.  You began to picture more than just idle conversation. You bet the two of you would have incredible chemistry—on all levels.

Your thoughts spiraled into fantasies, growing more vivid with every passing moment. You imagined him picking you up with ease, spinning you around like you were weightless, his strong hands firm but gentle. It just made sense, didn’t it? The way he looked at you, the way his words were always so calm and collected, but with an underlying intensity that pulled you in.

There was chemistry—bed chem, as you started to call it in your mind.

You saw it all clearly: the way he’d pull you close, lower you down, his voice teasing but sweet. And his hands—how they might trail over your skin with a deliberate touch, a mix of sweet and sinful. You were obsessed with the idea. He didn’t even need to say anything when you saw him, the look in his eyes was enough to spark that connection.

You imagined asking him, casually, Are you free next week? You were certain that if you met again, everything would fall into place. You’d fit together seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other. Your fantasies painted the perfect picture: soft sheets, the thermostat set just right—maybe at 69—and the two of you in sync, moving as if you’d done this a thousand times before.

You saw him later that night at the after-party, his blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat. Nanami wasn’t just an actor anymore, not just a face from the big screen or a billboard. He was real, standing right there, closing the distance between you.

As he approached, you couldn’t help but think, I bet we’d have really good bed chem.

The thought made you smile to yourself, a secret desire that hung in the air, just waiting to be fulfilled.

He moved closer, his stride confident but unhurried. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, the music and chatter dissolving as your attention zeroed in on him. You could feel the air between you thicken, an unspoken pull drawing you together. Nanami’s eyes never left yours, his intense gaze making it clear he hadn’t forgotten your brief encounter earlier in the day.

He stopped just a few steps away, close enough that you could see the faintest hints of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. You exchanged a polite smile, but beneath the surface, the tension was palpable. It was as if every look, every subtle movement, was laden with meaning. Your heart raced, but you kept your composure.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” he said, his voice smooth, with that same deep cadence you had replayed in your mind over and over again.

You offered a light laugh, something casual, but even the smallest exchange felt charged. “Fashion world is small, I guess.”

The conversation was polite, yet every word held weight. You both knew there was something more bubbling beneath the surface. And that’s when it happened—he leaned in, just a fraction, and his voice lowered, the faintest hint of something playful lacing his words.

“Are you free next week?”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”

Nanami Kento chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming. It was a small moment, but it felt like a confirmation—like a prophecy about to be fulfilled. You both lingered in the silence for a beat longer than necessary, the electric tension between you undeniable.

As the night went on, the party flowed around you, but your attention never strayed far from him. Each glance, each word exchanged, only built on the anticipation. By the time you said your goodbyes, you were already planning out the next week in your head.

When you finally parted ways, your phone buzzed almost immediately. A message from him.

Next week, then.

You smiled, already thinking about how things would unfold. In your mind, you could see it—how he’d pick you up like it was nothing, his strength and control so effortless. You pictured the way he’d pull you close, then spin you around, always so deliberate but never rushed. The chemistry was undeniable, it was practically written in the stars. Bed chem, the kind that left no room for hesitation.

And when that moment finally came, you knew everything would fall into place, just like you imagined. The perfect rhythm, the thermostat set just right, every movement in sync.

It was only a matter of time.

The days that followed felt like a slow burn, each one stretching out as you found yourself replaying that moment over and over. The anticipation built, winding tighter with every passing thought of him. Every time your phone buzzed, your pulse quickened, hoping it was another message from Nanami, and more often than not, it was.

His texts were short, simple—never too much, but just enough to keep the flame alive. He didn’t need to say much for you to read between the lines. Each message held a certain calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing, just like when you saw him at the party.

Each message was a spark, feeding the fire of your fantasies. Your mind wandered constantly, imagining every possible way the encounter could unfold. You knew it wouldn’t be rushed—it was never rushed with someone like Nanami. Everything about him was measured, thoughtful, intentional.

How’s your week?

Thinking about that conversation.

Looking forward to next week.

By the time the day finally arrived, you could feel your nerves dancing in your chest, excitement pulsing beneath your skin. You chose your outfit carefully, something that balanced elegance with subtle suggestion. You wanted to look as effortlessly composed as you imagined he would be.

When you arrived at the restaurant where he had suggested you meet, the atmosphere was warm, dimly lit, and intimate. Nanami was already there, sitting at a table near the window. He looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes locking onto yours immediately, that same intensity you remembered from the party.

As you approached, he stood to greet you, his hand resting lightly on your back as he leaned in for a polite kiss on the cheek. His touch was brief but electric, and you felt the heat rise in your chest.

“You look stunning, darling.” he said, his voice deep and smooth, just as you remembered.

You smiled, brushing off the compliment with a modest shrug, but the way his eyes lingered told you he wasn’t just being polite. The dinner itself was a dance, every word exchanged adding to the tension that simmered between you. You talked about the show, your careers, little moments from your lives—but beneath it all, there was the unspoken promise of what was to come.

It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves alone, walking down the quiet city streets. The cool night air did little to cool the heat that was growing between you. His hand brushed yours as you walked, a casual but deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, as if on cue, he stopped, turning to face you. His eyes held yours for a long moment, the city lights casting shadows over his sharp features.

“Should we continue this somewhere more private?” His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it, the tension in his question making your breath catch.

You nodded, your heart racing as he reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward his place. The walk was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. When you finally arrived, it felt like the world had slowed down, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here.

YOU WERE ASTOUNDED HOW SUAVE HIS EXISTENCE IS. The sight of his apartment took you by surprise, sleek and minimal yet warm, much like him. Everything was perfectly arranged, clean lines and subtle comfort that mirrored his understated charm. You couldn’t help but admire him, drawn in by everything he was. The more you were around him, the more you wanted—his presence, his touch, his everything.

He glanced at you, his gaze never wavering as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it neatly over the back of a chair. In an instant, he was standing before you, hands on your waist, drawing you close with a quiet, commanding energy. The world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit room.

His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "I’ve been thinking about this all week." 

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. You could feel the excitement become even more palpable in you.

Each movement of his mouth felt carefully measured, like he had been imagining this for far longer than you realized. His hands moved with an easy confidence, sliding across your body, each touch making you feel as though he had memorized every inch of you.

When he lifted you, it felt seamless, effortless, as though you weighed nothing at all in his arms. He carried you to the bedroom, his strong grip both protective and possessive.

There was an undeniable chemistry between you—every brush of his skin against yours, every touch electric and charged with desire. His movements were slow, savoring the build-up, as if he had waited too long for this moment to rush through it.

Your breaths came out shallow and uneven as his lips moved from yours, down the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Each press of his mouth against your skin felt deliberate, purposeful, sending sparks of heat coursing through you. 

His scent filled the space between you, rich and heady, mixing with the warmth of his body as he pressed closer. Every inch of you was aware of him—the solid strength of his frame, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands roamed over you.

Kento’s fingers grazed the curve of your waist before tightening on your hips, pulling you against him with a quiet but undeniable hunger. The sensation of his body molded so tightly to yours made your heart race, your skin tingling with anticipation. 

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible under the weight of his touch, his presence. His knee nudged between your thighs, parting them with a gentle yet insistent pressure, the friction sending a fresh wave of desire flooding through you.

"You feel so good, sweetie." he whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with want.

A soft moan slipped from your lips as his hands roamed lower, teasing the edge of your clothes before slipping beneath the fabric. His fingers dug in, just enough to make you gasp, his touch hot against your skin. The sensation of him—his rough palms gliding over your bare skin, the tension coiling between you—was intoxicating, leaving you breathless.

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your neck, clearly pleased with the effect he was having on you. "I love hearing you like that, sweetie." he murmured, his breath warm and teasing as his mouth hovered near your ear. "Don’t hold back."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him as his fingers dipped lower, exploring you with an eagerness that made you ache. You gasped, unable to stop the sound that escaped your throat as his fingers slipped inside you, moving with a skill that left you trembling.

"Oh—Kento. Oh, baby….." you whimpered, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as your body pressed closer to his, desperate for more of his touch. He groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through you.

His fingers moved inside you with purpose, every stroke calculated, every flick of his wrist sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves that made you cry out, your hips bucking instinctively against him.

"God, you’re so responsive. I like that." he growled, his voice rough with desire. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as his fingers moved faster, building a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of control.

"I want you to come for me, sweetheart." he breathed against your ear, his voice low and commanding.

You couldn’t help it. The way he touched you, the way he knew exactly what you needed—it was too much. Your body responded without hesitation, muscles tightening as pleasure coiled deep inside you, ready to snap. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, broken and breathless, as you reached that sweet crescendo, your body trembling in his arms.

Kento didn’t want to stop, didn’t slow, as you rode the wave of pleasure. His fingers stayed inside you, coaxing every last bit of sensation from you, until you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly undone in his arms.

Kento’s fingers slowly withdrew, leaving you sensitive and aching, but he wasn’t done. His sharp gaze darkened as he looked down at you, his breath hot against your skin. He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, and you felt a fresh rush of heat flood through you as his hands gently spread your legs wider, exposing your most sensitive, intimate places to him.

"You look incredible, slick like this." he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on every curve and soft line before settling on the glistening heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, so intent, so focused, made your heart race even faster.

Without a word, he lowered his head, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh with soft, teasing kisses. You shuddered beneath him, anticipation buzzing through your veins as his mouth inched closer to where you needed him most.

When his tongue finally flicked against your sensitive folds, you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. His touch was gentle at first, soft and exploratory, as if he was savoring the moment. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he took his time, each lick and kiss slow and deliberate.

"Kento—" you moaned, your voice breathless and needy. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, his mouth working against you with a precision that drove you wild.

"Mm, s’ good." he hummed against you, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of sensation through your core. His tongue swirled over your clit, slow and deliberate, before he sucked gently, and the world around you seemed to blur as pleasure bloomed deep in your belly.

"You taste so sweet. So so sweet." he growled at you, his voice low and full of hunger. He didn’t give you a moment to recover, his mouth returning to its work, tongue stroking over you in long, languid movements that left you trembling beneath him.

Your hands gripped the sheets, your body writhing against his mouth as he worked you closer to the edge. Every flick of his tongue, every soft press of his lips had you teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

"Please, please." you whimpered, your hips bucking against his face. "Don’t stop, Kento—"

He growled softly in response, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still as he intensified his pace. His tongue moved faster, more insistently, flicking and stroking your clit with a pressure that made you cry out. You could feel yourself unraveling, your body trembling uncontrollably as he pushed you closer and closer to release.

The heat inside you built with every stroke of his tongue, every soft moan he let out against you, until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pleasure overwhelmed you, and with a final, desperate cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in waves.

Kento could only find himself addicted in your taste, his mouth continuing to work against you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you were trembling, breathless, and utterly spent beneath him. Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal, and he looked up at you with a satisfied, almost possessive smile.

"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispered, his voice rough and low as he moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a slow, heated kiss. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you want him more.

"Kento..." you breathed, your voice barely audible but full of want. The way you said his name made him pause, his eyes darkening with desire as they met yours.

He leaned in again, his lips hovering near your ear, his voice deep and rough. “Gonna keep making you feel good, sweetie.” 

His thumb brushed against your lower lip before claiming your mouth again in a kiss that was no longer soft or patient but filled with raw, undeniable hunger. His need for you was palpable now, every kiss, every touch pushing you both closer to the edge.

The night unraveled slowly, deliberately, as if time itself bowed to the intensity of the moment. His movements, once restrained and careful, had given way to a raw passion that filled the air with a palpable heat. The soft glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains cast fleeting shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet hunger in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

His lips, warm and persistent, traced a slow, deliberate path over the curve of your neck, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Your breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, each kiss searing your skin with a promise of what was to come. 

His fingers followed, brushing against your skin with the lightest of touches, drawing a soft gasp from you. Every time he whispered your name, his voice low and filled with desire, it felt like the room itself pulsed in response, his words sinking into your very core.

“God, you’re so beautiful, sweetie.” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your heart race.

Your body arched beneath him, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation building with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, hovering above you, his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his control making your pulse quicken. It was as if he could sense every thought, every want, every need—knowing exactly how to unravel you. And you, caught in the tide of his desire, could do nothing but surrender.

“Please...” you breathed, the word slipping from your lips before you could even stop yourself. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained focused, intent.

His hands moved lower, his touch no longer teasing but commanding, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, the anticipation almost unbearable as his lips brushed against your ear, sending another wave of heat through your body.

“I’ve got you, sweetie.” he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a jolt of desire straight through you. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of delicious torment, he positioned himself above you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache with need. “Doin’ so good for me already, aren’t you?”

When he entered you, it felt like the culmination of everything—the tension, the desire, the quiet longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. A soft moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust deep and steady, leaving you breathless.

Your hands found his back, your nails digging in as you clung to him, the intensity of it all building between you like a storm ready to break. His breath was ragged now, mingling with yours in the heated air, every thrust a silent declaration of the connection that bound you together.

“Don’t stop, Kento…. Don’t…Oh—” you whispered, your voice breaking as he moved faster, his control unraveling just enough for you to feel the full force of his desire. His lips found yours again, his kiss rough and hungry, matching the rhythm of his body as you moved together, lost in the heat and the need for more.

Each movement, each breath, felt like an unspoken promise, his body telling you everything he couldn’t say aloud. In that moment, there was no space for hesitation, no room for anything but the overwhelming intensity of him, of you, of the way you fit together so perfectly.

When you finally came, it was everything you hadn’t known you needed. Kento’s name fell from your lips over and over, a soft chant as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening around his. The intensity of it left you breathless, your fingers clutching him as if afraid to let go. Moments later, he followed you, his body tensing as he found his own release, his low groan sending shivers through you all over again.

For a long time, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the quiet, shared breaths of two people completely undone by the moment. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his warmth enveloping you as you lay tangled together, the weight of what had just passed between you still lingering in the air.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Well, I think you got your answer.” 

“Oh? About what?”

“We have bed chem.” He grins at you, kissing your shoulder. 

You blinked and then laughed.

You could feel your heart still racing, and looked up at him, knowing that this moment was just the beginning.

epilogue 

The sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets that barely covered your body. You stretched lazily, feeling the soft, comforting weight of the blankets and the familiar presence of Nanami beside you.

His arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. The peaceful moment was too perfect to pass up, so you quietly reached for your phone, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the soft morning light.

The sheets barely covered your bodies, your bare skin visible beneath the white fabric. The scene was intimate, cozy, and full of the quiet warmth of a morning spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption before posting it online:

“Come right on me, I mean camaraderie.”

The double entendre made you giggle quietly as you hit "post" knowing it was bound to get some playful reactions. You leaned back into the pillows, snuggling against Kento, who stirred slightly at your movement, his hand tightening around your waist.

“What are you up to?” he mumbled sleepily, his voice rough from sleep. His eyes opened just enough to catch your mischievous grin.

“Nothing… Just posting a little morning memory, darling.” you teased, unable to contain the laughter bubbling up inside you. Kento’s brow furrowed, clearly suspicious but too tired to press further.

It didn’t take long for the comments to start rolling in. Within minutes, his phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand. Kento could only feel himself groaning, reaching for it, and as soon as he saw the notifications lighting up the screen, his eyes widened in realization.

“You didn’t…?” His voice trailed off as he stared at the picture you had posted, the cheeky caption front and center.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, watching as Nanami’s expression shifted from confusion to mild horror, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. He scrolled through the comments, and you could see the flood of teasing messages from his castmates already coming in.

@/GojoSatoru: Nanami, my man! Didn’t know you had this side to you! 😂

@/Geto Suguru: Yo, Kento…….You really kinky IRL, huh?

@/HaibaraYu: Is that what we call ‘teamwork’ now? Guess I’ve been doing it all wrong… 😏

@/IeiriShoko: Honestly? Kinda iconic. But also, never gonna let you live this down.

Kento could feel his blush deepened as he kept scrolling, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly flustered. His hand ran through his hair in frustration, and he glanced at you with an exasperated but fond look.

“I can’t believe you posted that, sweetie.” he muttered, shaking his head as more notifications flooded in. “They’re never going to stop teasing me about this.”

You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning over to kiss his cheek, which was now bright red. “Come on, it’s cute. They’ll forget about it soon enough… maybe.”

Kento groaned again, but there was a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer. “You’re impossible, hm.” he said, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he wasn’t actually upset. He kissed your forehead softly, the tension in his body relaxing as he resigned himself to the teasing. “Too impossible.”

“I don’t mind being impossible if it makes you blush like this.” you teased, running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the rare sight of Kento looking flustered.

“Don’t push your luck, sweetie.” he replied, though the way his arms wrapped around you betrayed the affection behind his words. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I guess I’ll have to get used to being the subject of their jokes for a while.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

Nanami chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. “You already have, sweetheart.” he murmured, his hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the teasing forgotten as the moment between you became tender again.

“I don’t care what they say, though.” he added quietly. “All that matters is this. Us.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the teasing moment giving way to a warmth that spread through your chest. You snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, and smiled.

“Good. So do I.” you whispered, kissing him again, the teasing fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Nanami Kento could feel his phone buzzing again, but this time, neither of you bothered to check it. Let them tease—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding comfort in the simple joy of being together.

[o-sachi]

Can't Hold My Liquor - Headcanons (Blue Lock Chars.)

ᯓ how do the blue lock boys handle a drunk reader? ᯓ characters; michael kaiser, oliver aiku, sae itoshi, barou shoei, karasu tabito, yukimiya kenyu ᯓ tags; mentions of alcohol and being drunk/tipsy, just fluff, established relationship gn reader, no y/n

[🐟]: Obviously, I don't condone underage drinking or any unresponsible consumption of alcohol. I purposely chose characters both based on the request and their ages. So, yes, they're of legal age. Drink responsibly! (I wish I followed my own advice).

Michael Kaiser

"Hm? What's that? I can't understand you if you're mumbling~"

This ass would take funny videos of you first before helping you at all. But not to worry, the videos are for his eyes and his amusement only. Maybe if you were REALLY upset, he'd consider deleting them.

While he does help you, Kaiser will still find a way to tease you or make fun of you. You're slurring your words? Funny. You can't walk straight? Funny. You're spilling a life's worth of secrets? Could be funny—depends.

"Mhm, and what happened next? C'mon don't leave me hanging here."

He'd hate having to deal with puking (that is, if you do happen to end up in that unfortunate situation). But he'll reluctantly gladly help his s/o clean themselves up and drink some much needed water.

But it's highly unlikely that you reach that point because he stops you from drinking too much anyway. He'll refuse any more drinks in your stead and if anyone offers you more, he'll chug it down himself.

Actually enjoys carrying your drunk self. He likes it because you become clingier and more dependent on him. He'll soothe you until you eventually fall asleep (which is fast). He likes pampering you when you're all disoriented like this.

Oliver Aiku

"You're quite cute when you're drunk."

It's not that he likes torturing your liver, but he'd gladly take care of you when you get drunk. He just loves it when a different side of you takes over... thanks to the alcohol.

He'd be so touchy—keeping you in his arms to help you sit up straight, holding your hand when you need to take a trip to the bathroom, supporting the back of your head when you're taking a sip of water so that you don't fall over, and so on.

"Hey, hey, sloooowly. You're gonna get water in your nose."

He'd go along with any of your drunken antics. If you decide all of a sudden that you wanna go up on the table and dance—he's going to join you.

But he'll gently calm you down if you get ahead of yourself. His voice would soften as he cups your cheek—trying to knock some sense back into you.

Also enjoys carrying you, but prefers to give you a piggy back ride. Last time he did a bridal carry... it upset your stomach and you know the rest...

Sae Itoshi

"What a pain... You're lucky I have a soft spot for you."

He doesn't enjoy drinking and even more so the atmosphere associated with it. But he tries it once because you wanted to. He thought it wouldn't be so bad. Spoiler alert: he now regrets his decision.

He won't drink for 3 reasons: 1) Again, he hates it, 2) he's the designated driver, and 3) he knows he will have to take care of you.

Sae has a poker face the whole time, but deep down he's amused by your change of demeanor. It's not that he's loathing the situation he's in (he is) but in reality, he's just observing you closely.

ALWAYS REMINDS YOU TO DRINK WATER. Even when you're not drinking actually. He'd prefer it if you sobered up faster.

When you do get too drunk, he'll carry you out of there especially if you go drinking at a place with a bunch of strangers (like a bar). It's because he doesn't want you to find yourself in a compromising situation in public or possible humiliate yourself. Aww...

He'd gladly give you a shower to help you clean yourself and cool off. While you're still disoriented, he'll take it as an opportunity to talk with you (more of a monologue) about things he can't say to you while you're sober.

Barou Shoei

"Tsk... seeing you like this... now I have to be there whenever you decide to get drunk huh?"

HE IS MOTHER. He's not usually overbearing, but he is when you're drunk. Hell, Barou's not even sure why he supported this decision of yours in the first place.

But then again... he figured if this would make you happy, then he'd just have to do what he can to keep you safe and sound.

He tries not to show it, but he's actually super anxious while watching you drink and have the time of your life. His leg's bouncing so much that it's almost a workout.

"Jesus. This smells like the shit you use to clean bathrooms." / "Hehehe... it means it's strong." / "God, give me strength...."

Will definitely give you a lecture on the way home and until you're sober. But he can't reallyyyy be angry with you. He was just insanely worried and this is his way of diffusing it.

He'll set you on the bathroom counter and do your skin care for you since you're so out of it. You won't be able to remember it well, but he'll have a look of utmost focus on his face as he rubs the product into your skin. SUCH A CUTIE.

Karasu Tabito

"Yer a wild one, ain'cha?"

He has a really high alcohol tolerance, so he doesn't mind drinking along with you and taking care of you right after (if you can't keep up with his pace.)

Karasu hates spoiling your fun. But once you're reaaaaally drunk, he has to do something about it. So he may or may not take a glass of juice and pass it off as alcohol just so you can continue to "drink".

He's like your own personal bodyguard, especially if you decide to go drinking in a public establishment. He'll be hovering over you protectively, observing the people surrounding you, and making sure you don't faceplant into the ground.

"Woah, woah, what do ya think yer doin'? Waltzin' over 'ere like ya got business with my darlin'?"

Does your whole night routine for you once you get back home. He'll be so slow and steady with you. Karasu will also make sure that you've had your meds before totally passing out to hopefully ease the impending hangover.

He will continue to take care of you even in the following morning. He'll wake up ahead of you and start with the breakfast, wanting to surprise you.

Yukimiya Kenyu

"Don't worry about a thing. I got you, okay?"

He thinks of himself as a social drinker and finds parties to be just fine. But he'll have a grand total of one cocktail and maybe 1 shot if he was urged to have one. So yeah, he can take care of you if needed.

His trick is pulling you to the dancefloor and keeping you busy there so that you don't have to go back to the bar and drown yourself in more alcohol.

Yuki will make sure you look dashing as ever throughout the night. I mean, it's no surprise that at some point you'll be looking disheveled. He'll fix your hair, your makeup, and even if your clothes.

"Come with me for a sec... let's get you freshened up."

HE WILL BE GUIDING YOU EVERYWHERE. Doesn't matter if you're only walking a couple of steps—Yuki will be there to hold your hand so you don't trip on air.

He'll seriously entertain your drunken ramblings while he tends to you and your night routine. If you ask him anything (even a stupid question), Yuki will give it some thought and actually answer back is if he were talking to someone sober.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[simping-overload]

hi how are you? If requests are still open can I request headcanon for Transformers Prime? (predaking, shockwave and megatron) with a reader who is literally a dragon? The reader has kept a Cybertronian relic for a long time.

Megatron, Shockwave, and Predaking with a Dragon! S/O

a/n: sorry for taking an ungodly amount of time to get to this, hope you like it!

wanna support me? donate to kofi!

tags: GN reader, dragon reader, robot x monster/dragon relationship, reader isn't suggest to be a human at all. reader isn't described to be verbal but assume they have a way to communicate, dragon hoards, fighting, mention of blood and animal death(just hinted), romance!!!!

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem, she/her, she/they please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

Megatron —

finds you fascinating, often he can find himself just staring. taking in your beauty and the power the radiates off of you.

of course, he'd like to have you fight for his cause. an advantage for one, and he simply loves seeing you fight.

he'd love to have you train with him. That would depend on your size, though. he knows better than to try to fight. that would be roughly the same size as his ship. (He's a sore loser when he loses btw.)

beware, he might treat you like a pet if he had you at his feet while he pet the rough skin and scales alongside your body. he may accidently go onto a power trip with you

however, feel more than free to put him back in his place. you're much stronger than him at the end of the day

When you show him your hoard, he's intrigued. He views it as a trophy room, like the one he once had from his gladiator days.

If the relic isn't useful to him, he'd let you keep it, but if it is, he will take it from you, regardless of your protest.

Shockwave —

of course, he takes a scientific interest in you. collects your scales you shed, examines your claws, and likes to scale just how strong your fire is and a lot of other things.

His sharp claws are perfect for preening, especially in the stubborn hard to reach places. while he doesn't admit it and claims he only does it to collect them, shockwave finds it very relaxing.

he wouldn't bother trying to fight you, he'd however would like to fly with you. moslty flying out to places that have predacon fossils or lost Cybertronian relics.

he likes to observe how you fly with or against the winds, taking down notes as your body adjusts to flying in high or low altitudes.

When you showed him your hoard, he was indifferent. he saw no point in hoarding objects that wouldn't benefit you.

as he looked around your domain, he picked up and fiddled with some items that he was interested in.

upon finding the relic he asks to take it, if you say no, he'll simply scan the core things he needs from it and leave it there, but if you say yes, he'll have a ball. he might give it back to you once it served it's purpose.

Predaking —

at first, he'd thought of you as a threat. somone who would take his place as a king. it wasn't until he, of course, grew closer and got to know you were he dropped these thoughts.

if your size is similar or doesn't have a very drastic difference, he'd love to spar or play fight with you.

he has no way to consume animals, but he'd love to go hunting with you or watch you hunt, to say the least. finds the way you move with such grace and precision is simply amazing to him.

he likes the difference between his metal and your scales. Feeling your body up against his is an odd sensation but very much welcomed. he's godly at preening your scales and would do anytime anywhere.

flying with you is one of his favorite pastimes with you. he most definitely tries to show off his flight capability as well, doing a wide variety of tricks and flips.

courting dancing/flights are a must. he's unfamiliar with his, but they're so engraved into his(the former kings)muscle memory that he'd remember as he went on with the courting.

when you respond with a dance of your own, he's smitten 10x again. Likes to learn your dance if you'd teach him.

also during courting and even after or before he likes bringing you gifts. Random trinkets he thinks you'd find joy in having.

upon being introduced into your hoard his is amazed. It was one of the most beautiful places he has seen.

unless the relic relates to him, he wouldn't bother doing anything with it, simply leaving it there alone unless shockwave may request it.

[666soulz]

rapper!connie first run in with fashionvlogger!reader was…interesting. you answered a question from a fan on twitter who asked if you could style one rapper who would it be? you replied saying, ‘connie springer, his music don’t match his style. he dressing like a regular hood nigga when he should be dressing like a bad bitch with a dark lair. pisses me off.’

eren snorted when he seen the tweet and sent it to connie. at first he was a little offended and was about to clean you right on up, but when he saw the comments agreeing??? he had to find out why your opinion mattered so much. so the the first thing he did was tap that instagram link. 550k followers. hmm. he seen that plenty of his celebrity mutuals followed you. 

                           hollowsoul

followed by thegirljt, gunna, liluzivert and others. 

when he tapped on your pinned photo he almost drooled at your beauty, your body, and the outfit you were wearing.  you indeed had that shit on to the T. connie caught himself scrolling through your feed as his anemic ass shook ice into his mouth. you sure did have a love for all black outfits. 

he taps on that message button and types in two words. ‘style me’ 

your phone lights up as you stir around the meat in the pan. you put your glass of wine down to pick up your phone. 

instagram 

new message 

you tap on the notification and it takes you to the dm. you didn’t really have a shocked reaction, but you were surprised that he even bothered to to dm you. connie was semi private. he has moments where he’s very active on social media then he becomes a ghost. 

‘sure long as your okay with me vlogging’

connie puts his cup of ice down beside his feet warning his dog, Choppo, to not touch before replying to you. 

‘i don’t mind. you free on friday?’

   ‘i am’

ight let’s meet at the outlet mall on Lafayette @ 1 then. you mind if me, my friends, and security come?

 okay sounds good and i don’t mind at all.  see you on friday x

trust me you were less boring in person. connie was lacking in first impression as he was late to you guys shopping date. 

you didn’t mind though, you were right in dior trying on sunglasses. “how these look y’all?” you ask your camera. “i don’t know they’re kinda cunt..” you say looking in the small mirror. you didn’t even notice connie and his crew walking in and walking towards you. 

“i like them.”

you look behind you, seeing connie and his friends. connie took you in while you were distracted and you were better in person. you were in an all black outfit, of course, and you looked fucking beautiful. 

“they’re cute right?” you smile looking up at the 6’1 FINE ass dominican man. one thing that  also irritated you about connie’s style is that it doesn’t emphasize his face. connie face card was something different. He had beautiful features, hazel eyes, low lids, some pretty plump lips, and he was pulling off a buzz cut like david beckham in the 2000’s. not many people can do that. 

“yeah, sorry I was late. had to drop my sister off to her dance practice.” connie says you wave him off, “oh I'm not worried about it. it gave me time to think of what stores i want to go to.” you say taking your glasses off. “hey it’s nice to meet y’all,” you said looking at the two men behind connie. eren and ony. they weren’t a group but they put out some collab albums. those albums were heat, and was always playing when you were working out or cleaning. 

“we’re starting here by the way. can’t go wrong with dior. do you have a favorite fashion brand or designer?” you ask connie as you walked over to the men’s section. 

“uhm nike?”

“nike..? you know what i’m just..i’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that.“ you say shaking your head in disappointment. ony was laughing to himself in the background cause he could hear it in your voice. 

“what’s wrong with nike?” connie smiles as you picked up a dior sweater. “well first off all nike is a sports brand i’m talking about a fashion brand like rick owens, true religion, moschino. 

“what’s a moschino?” connie scrunches his face and he was dead serious. 

“do you know who jeremy scott is? law roach?”

“are these random white people?”

you looked at connie like he was a little lost baby, pouting your glossy lips. “aw you are so cute.” you pinch his cheek. “this is my favorite part. teaching you the ins and out of fashion.” you smile pushing an outfit into his chest. “go try this on.”

connie found out that you were a bossy little thing. if he didn’t like something, “oh well too bad you’re getting it anyways.” ony and eren enjoyed seeing him get bossed around as he was usually the demanding one in the studio. you had fun telling connie stuff about fashion and how to put together a good outfit. 

connie left that outlet with a new wardrobe, friend, and crush. a very big crush that his friends noticed. the way connie blushed like some nerdy school boy every time you’d hype him up. you noticed as well and found it absolutely adorable. 

“do that lil pose that you do. period!” 

you enjoyed Connie's presence. He was a mix between laidback and hyper. like when he got comfortable around you, he got to cracking jokes. even joking you. picking up some ugly ass cowgirl boots and saying, “this looks like something you’d like.” and you’d just give him a little playful glare telling him to not play with you. 

you left Connie with a homework assignment. learn how to use pinterest and make a pinterest board. 

[mintsuwu]

MORE SMILING CRITTERS FAMILY HEADCANONS WAHOO!! I do apologize in advance as this post will be shorter BUT THERE ARE MORE PICTURES!!!

Bubba Bubbaphant

Bubba Bubbaphant comes from a family deeply rooted in love, passion, and a sense of responsibility towards others. His mother was a botanist, brimming with a profound affection for plants, while his father embarked on adventurous explorations as a researcher. Despite their differing pursuits, they formed a tight-knit family unit where love and care flourished.

Sadly, his mother's life was cut short by a debilitating disease that drained her vitality, leaving an indelible mark on Bubba's heart. Witnessing her struggle ignited in him a fervent desire to become a doctor in the future, driven by the aspiration to alleviate suffering and potentially save lives, just as he had hoped to do for his mother.

But even after the profound loss, the relationship with his father remained strong, as the latter balances his adventurous spirit with unwavering dedication to his family. Despite the demands of his work, he cherishes every moment spent with Bubba, recognizing the importance of being present in his son's life. He carves out moments to spend quality time with him, sharing experiences and imparting valuable knowledge gained from his explorations as the young one shares information about the adventures he has with his friends

Mr. Bubbaphant embodies the essence of a true gentleman, extending kindness and assistance to those in need without hesitation. His demeanor and wisdom reflected the refinement and kindness instilled in his son, earning him a reputation as an absolute gentleman.

Their familial circle extends to Kickin'Chicken´s family, as he is friends with his mother, Clucketta, forging a close friendship between families. Recognizing the demands of parenthood, Mr. Bubbaphant would occasionally assist Clucketta by taking on babysitting duties, providing her with much-needed respite while her husband Rockin´ Rooster is away on his own endeavors.

Through their shared experiences and mutual respect, Bubba learns the value of compassion, friendship, and the importance of standing by those they care about.

BONUS: Kickin´ was the only one of the Smiling Critters who got to know Bubba´s mother before she passed away. And after her loss he made sure to be there to support his friend all the way just like the young elephant had done for him in the past.

Kickin'Chicken (Part ||)

Rockin'Rooster is a renowned singer in the Smiling Critters universe and the father of Kickin' Chicken. Despite his fame, Rockin' spends little time with his family, prioritizing his career over them.

Kickin' idolizes his father, despite his older sister Pecky harboring resentment towards him for his selfishness. Though Rockin' favors Pecky, hoping she'll continue his musical legacy, but she rejects his expectations. Instead, she enjoys music with her friends for fun as she even plays in a band with them, but she doesn't seek for fame or fortune. Rockin' later shifts his attention to Kickin', who adores his father but longs for more family connection. The young boy feels overwhelmed by his many younger siblings, as his father's absence is often filled with new additions to the family. But despite this, Kickin' loves his family deeply.

Clucketta, Kickin's mother, once shared Rockin's passion for music, but she now focuses on supporting her family. She sacrificed her own career as a dancer before moving to Jolly Valley (I still have to think of a name for the town though) in order to live a happy and peaceful life... Despite the family's imperfections. And though she no longer wears her Merry Charm, when she does, she keeps her pendant hidden as it makes her feel nostalgic of the times where she could pursue her passion for dancing.

BONUS: Adult Kickin' design! I like to imagine that he becomes some sort of dancing teacher in the future.

[yanderes-galore]

Hey there. Could you do a concept for Daemon + Rhaenyra sharing a maid darling? Thx

The funny thing is, this request was made before Season 2 came out. Now that Season 2 is out... I have more content to cover.

"He/She took the maid in the divorce...."

❗️Potential Spoilers Warning For HOTD Season 2❗️

Yandere! Daemon + Rhaenyra Sharing a Maid! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing/Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Mentions of bedding, Mature themes (Violence and this gets a bit SPICY-), Possessive behavior, Infidelity mentioned on Daemon's part, Jealousy, Dubious relationship(s).

I like to imagine at first the two can share.

Rhaenyra and Daemon are married as the queen and prince consort of Dragonstone.

Perhaps you were originally assigned to Rhaenyra as her handmaiden, a personal servant to the queen.

For the most part that's all your job is.

You tend to her every need as part of your duties, cleaning and preparing various things for the queen.

Most of your time is spent with the queen, but naturally you end up speaking to Daemon as part of your duties.

Now, Daemon is infamous when it comes to women.

While married to Rhaenyra, Daemon is notorious for pursuing pretty little maids.

You quickly become used to Daemon's insistent attempts at courting you.

What's probably more unexpected is... Rhaenyra expressing fondness towards her own handmaiden.

Based on one particular episode in Season 2 and a popular fan theory with Alicent, imagine if Rhaenyra's 'taste in women' occurs with her handmaiden.

At the start of their marriage at Dragonstone, I can see the pair slowly courting their handmaiden together.

It starts small, perhaps Rhaenyra testing out warm embraces with you in her private chambers while Daemon often tries to corner you with honeyed words.

Only for it to escalate to Rhaenyra kissing you out of sight from anyone else... or Daemon coaxing you to join him in the royal chambers when Rhaenyra isn't around.

The two enjoy their time with you away from one another, but occasionally I can see the two sharing and pursuing you together.

Such... affections become part of your duties.

The two royals clearly have a favorite maid and often love to smother her in affection.

For a maid you are quite spoiled...

Rhaenyra often picks out dresses that signify you're their maid... like a specific outfit that stands out from the usual servant attire.

Daemon often finds jewelry or accessories in general to add to how you look.

The two cover you in draconic designs, your attire often including dual dragon embroideries.

You're decorated in blacks and reds, you're never far from either of them.

Other servants have trouble speaking to you as one of their royals end up calling for your attention.

I can see them both keeping their favorite maid in their lap, peppering her with kisses and admiring how she's theirs.

You're never allowed off Dragonstone, especially when the Dance begins.

The two share well at first, often keeping you from speaking to any other lord or lady.

You are their royal maid, their personal servant...

Not another soul needs your attention.

There isn't many problems until their relationship gets worse.

Rhaenyra has expressed in the show that she knows she can't control Daemon or his actions, even as queen.

Daemon has also expressed defiance when he went to Harrenhal.

Safe to say... their marriage between each other gets rocky.

Which means the two get temperamental and your duties get harder.

I can see them both getting exasperated with one another.

Meaning you get to deal with two very stressed royals.

Daemon gets volatile and easily irritated when this happens.

You often witness the prince snap at Rhaenyra before storming off.

After fights he has a tendency to drag you off with him... tugging you with him to have you ease his irritation.

Other times Rhaenyra calls you, sitting you down to talk or hold you close.

When Daemon goes to Harrenhal, it feels like watching the two fight for... custody.

Rhaenyra is insistent on you staying at Dragonstone.

It's a safer place compared to Harrenhal and she really doesn't need her husband spontaneously pulling her maid along with him.

Meanwhile Daemon wants to bring you along because he doesn't want to be alone.

He has duty in Harrenhal, but might go insane if he doesn't have his maid.

Safe to say... They aren't sharing anymore.

Seeing them fight over you is... intimidating.

Your job becomes much harder now that the two are unwilling to share.

It doesn't help that the two both have dragons.

Rhaenyra has Syrax, Daemon has Caraxes.

Both are fearsome dragons.

So imagine if you do end up with one royal, only for the other to eventually land on their dragon to demand you.

Daemon could be losing his mind at Harrenhal, holding onto you as if he'll lose you, only for Rhaenyra to land on Syrax and demand you back against the warnings of her council.

Or the other way around, Daemon flies Caraxes to Dragonstone to have you in his arms to ease his mind.

Due to both of them being on edge, you just hope others around you are safe.

Daemon is more willing to cut someone if they touch you.

He'd probably snap and hold a dagger or his sword to their throat, telling them to back off before scooping you into his arms again.

Rhaenyra is less threatening... but does keep a strong grip on you if someone is getting on her nerves.

As the war continues and more blood is spilled, the two royals fight more for your attention.

I don't think they'd kill one another, such an issue would cause too much trouble for The Blacks.

While Rhaenyra is unable to control Daemon's impulses, she is an important part of the war.

For the most part they comply by passing you around with one another.

Your job isn't even being a maid at this point.

You're a companion, a little pet or toy they're fighting over.

Your job is no longer to clean or draw baths, it's to be held and warm their beds like some brothel woman.

Both royals refuse to give you up completely.

They aren't really sharing... it's more like tolerating...

You are the only thing that calms them...

But as the war goes on, who knows how long before one decides they won't tolerate it anymore.

[ivesambrose]

ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛꜱ

1. 2. 3.

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝°❈°╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

If you feel lost, aimless, overwhelmed or unsure in regards to yourself this has found it's way to you at the right time.

Personal Readings

Masterpost

Thank you for the tip! 🌹

Picture 1

A lot of you are burnt by your own ambitions and a need to prove something. You quietly wonder if you're even passionate about anything anymore or you are but do not what to do, where to start so you end up spacing out and procrastinating. Likely you were made to believe that if what gets you excited and happy doesn't automatically put you on the map and bring you money in traditional ways then it's practically useless.

You have in a way put yourself down consistently due to these external projections.

Of what I'm picking up on some of you are passionate about the following :

- Dancing

- Fitness

- Makeup

- Music

- The occult

- crafting something intricate such as designing jewellery or curating them

- A select few might be into taxidermy, herbology and even archeology

- A combination of the above, some of you have your own allure and might want to get into modelling, styling, dancing and design. You want to express yourself freely including your sensual as well as spiritual and esoteric side.

You want to be known but you want to stand out, with your accumulated power you want to guide others too, make them feel less alone and more understood and yet you want to be an enigma and mystery. You do have a strong potential to be a muse to many.

Your hidden talents:

- Something that is coming through significantly that it is something from your past/childhood/early teens that you had to sacrifice/were made to sacrifice even if you cared for it deeply and wanted to nurture it. It makes you bitter to this day because you were naturally good at it.

- Some of you should definitely consider working for animals especially birds. You have a gift to heal and develop empathy with them.

- Some of you can end up being excellent bakers and decorators.

A lot you can find success in the entertainment industry, media, running your own business and being your own boss, you have excellent leadership skills and determination it's just that you haven't gotten the chance to explore that side of yourself yet.

The advice here is to only look back at the past to pick up what you had left and walk ahead. Become your friend and ask your own subconscious to show the way, trust me you will be shown when you least expect it.

Picture 2

You simply love to learn and acquire knowledge. You could have specific subject(s) you're drawn to or you don't even like limiting yourself to that. You'd rather be an eternal student. I wouldn't be surprised if you were drawn to picture 1 or 3 as well. You have a thrist that sometimes almost feels insatiable.

You are rather intellectual and often give very sound advice. Mainly cuz you are highly self aware and very intuitive.

Regardless of anything else, you seek inspiration and adventure above all. You do tend to get bored with just one thing easily.

Of what I'm picking up on, some of you are passionate about the following:

- Learning, experimenting, teaching and innovating. Again this could be any topic or multiple. Could be something as literature and academics or physics or could even be cooking or carving wood. You could even be here educating people about Gothic architecture or the human anatomy. Or all of this. You're not meant to confine yourself.

- A lot of you seek travel and adventure. Even be passionate about extreme sports.

- Languages and culture.

- Some of you want to try and do everything, experience different things and don't want to niche yourself down. Your passion can simply be experiencing your life to the fullest so you have wisdom to give and stories to narrate and memories to look back on and trust me, that is more than enough.

Which quickly brings me to your hidden talents because you're supressing quite a few:

- Some of you can be excellent astrologers or even astronomers.

- A lot of you can read into symbolisms real. You can be a gifted psychic too if you aren't aware already.

- You can be really good at sports like archery, fencing, MMA etc

- Creative direction, photography is also coming through.

- You're very good with your words, whether it be in writing or speaking.

You are rather mutable and a very poised individual too, you can easily influence the people you come in touch with. Some of you can be good speakers, representatives or the face of a brand. Whatever you do, you end up being very good at it whether you like it or not.

The advice is to simply continue what you're doing, you're not as lost as you think you are. Keep making connections and continue being yourself instead of trying to make yourself small and fit in or follow trends or the algorithm.

Picture 3

You feel like a misfit and an outsider so much so that being passionate about anything worries you because you may end up looking a fool, not being good enough or not being disciplined enough.

You carry a lot of anguish in you mainly because you had to focus on things that were expected of you or because you had to survive so you might feel like you're good at many things but not great or could be great at something but you don't necessarily love it.

You're an interesting group here because you haven't even allowed yourself to feel excited about things.

What are you truly passionate about? I see nature, authenticism, a slower, softer life. The word passion itself feels too intense and deliberate for you.

You simply want to experience a life that doesn't feel like you running on a treadmill till your knees give out.

I do see there's an innate desire in you to help others, be it people or animals or even a dying plant. You want to find your peace and bring some of that peace in others lives too. Your energy feels like a walking into a warm cabin in the woods during winter with freshly made dinner waiting.

Hidden talents you have ample, a lot of them are based on learning and perfecting with practice :

- Cooking, experimenting with different herbs. I do see some of you have the potential to start a small business that involves food.

- Gardening and farming

- Painting

- Tattooing (this is coming through because it can be very therapeutic for a lot of you)

- Perfume making is also coming through as well as skincare.

- pottery and sculpting, crocheting etc

- reiki, medicine, physical therapy etc

- divination

Think of a life that's a bit more laid back a career that makes you feel less on the edge.

You've already been running on the validation of people who think you're dispensable or your worth is tied to something outside of you that you can't even find meaning in.

The world needs more souls like you.

The only advice is to be more compassionate with yourself, you're not running a race even if people have constantly been reminding you of it, there's no finish line. The only truth that matters is the story you tell yourself, over and over again. It will come to pass. Continue being. Continue creating instead of wondering about the how. You've figured out many things in your life, let life sort this out for you.

[sunrise-imagines]

Hello! May I please request headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a S/O who’s very feminine and girly? Also a bit of a coward/ damsel in distress type? Thank you so much!

No problem! Enjoy :)

Simon Petrikov/Winter King x Feminine! Damsel! Reader

Simon Petrikov:

• To be honest, he’s also pretty cowardly, but although he isn’t as brave and strong as Finn and Jake , when it comes down to it he always puts your safety and wellbeing above all else, even his own.

• Even though he’s scared himself, he’ll try his best to be the knight in shining armor you deserve

• He’ll sit outside the dressing room in stores while you try on dress after dress, always telling you that you look beautiful no matter what you wear. To him, anything and everything looks good on you!

• Tries to help you apply your makeup, but he always gets flustered being so close to your face and might accidentally poke your eye trying to do your mascara (Sorry honey!)

• One thing he is good at is painting your nails, years of handling delicate artifacts has given him steady hands, and with enough practice he can make some pretty detailed designs

• If he sees a piece of jewelry or an accessory he thinks you might like, he’ll save up his salary to buy it for you as a gift. Eating nothing but cheap ramen and coffee for a month is totally worth it when he sees the smile on your face.

• If you ask him to get dolled up with you, he will be a little hesitant, saying that he could never look as good as you, but with enough persuading and some really good puppy eyes he’ll let you put him in a dress and some minimal makeup. Surprisingly, he finds he likes it more than he though he would!

Winter King:

• Literally a match made in heaven.

• Winter King’s whole thing is being the gentlemanly hero who swoops in to save damsels in distress like you, it feeds his ego so much.

• He’s always ready to valiantly save you from any threat, even something as simple as trying to get something off the top shelf. He’ll burst in the room shouting, “ Fear not, fair maiden! Your King is here to protect you!”

• Sometimes he’ll let Candy Queen kidnap you just so he can be the one to save you, he’s that confident that nothing bad can ever happen to you as long as he’s around.

• He is also very in touch with his feminine side, and he loves that the two of you share this!

• He’ll make matching ice themed outfits for both of you, loving how you look in those icy blues and powdery whites

• Like his voice actor BDG, he loves having his nails painted and will set up regular mani-pedi spa days for you both to relax together.

• Will make you a big, poofy princess gown and invite you to dance with him in the throne room, twirling you around like the scene in Beauty and the Beast.

• He just wants you to always feel as beautiful as he thinks you are.

[halfrican-heat]

ALL MINE (Ony)

"You come here, I'll knock your pussy out the damn frame. Remember the last time I made you miss your damn plane? Remember the last time I wet you down with champagne?"

A/N: Hey! I'm down bad for this man rn, lol. I've got lots of ideas for him though, so yay! Happy reading :) Inspired by @lingeriae and this post! Requests are open, too! Get at your girl.

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, Public Sex (Outdoors), Cervix kissing, Wedding details, N Word Used, Black reader in mind, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Dominant!Ony (when tf is he not in my mind), Depiction of marijuana usage, Depictions of alcohol consumption, Mild Dubious Consent; Beta'd by my besties <3

Pairing: Ony x Wedding Planner!Reader

Song Inspo: All Mine - Brent Faiyaz

His eyes drilled into the side of your head, trailing the curves of your body.

As maid of honor, your dress was a little different from the other bridesmaids. Make no mistake, your girls looked good with a t on the end. You made sure of that, but you all agreed upon something more…tailored for the lady making the most moves. So, your dress was designed to your tastes and fit you like a glove. It accentuated all your assets and Onyankopon was taking stock. 

The two of you had only fucked once but there was this heightened tension ever since.

During the entire wedding process, Ony had been a pain in your ass. Because he was the best man, the two of you had to collaborate on many of the joint events-- like the Engagement Party and Bridal Party mixers. He was a terrible flirt and spent most of his time trying to get in your pants. Then, if it wasn’t you, he was flirting with any lady he could. And they would swoon just as soon as Ony flashed that handsome, megawatt smile of his. 

But for some reason, Ony liked the challenge you posed. The way you were resistant to his charms. Unfortunately for you, Ony was interested in you. He liked you.

You dealt with his bullshit for a good while, putting in a valiant effort because you were doing your best friend and fellow soror, Kendra, a favor. Y’all went back to diapers and stuck together through everything. You were a celebrity event coordinator, specializing in weddings, so you were doing double duty by being her maid of honor and planning the entire wedding. But shit hit the fan between you and Ony the night of the final Bridal Party mixer. The two of you got into a huge blowout fight that ended with your cute little cocktail dress torn and strewn about the floor of Ony’s hotel room, his tongue licking champagne from places it shouldn’t have been. 

“You doing so good, ma.” He had whispered, fucking you into his sheets. 

You ended up missing your damn plane the next morning. Needless to say, he moved up on your list of people you wouldn’t mind spending time with. But he quickly moved back down the list after he ghosted you the next day. During the rehearsal dinner, you found him talking up some girl in the hotel lounge. He made eye contact with you as he flirted with her, looking away to give her his full attention. 

So, you kept it cordial and cute after that. You acted like it didn’t bother you. Did he have amazing, life-changing dick that made you want to murder him and the bitch from the hotel lounge? Yes, yes he did. But were you a classy, sophisticated bitch who successfully planned a destination wedding while being the maid of honor and dealing with Ony’s shiesty ass? Yes, yes the fuck you were. 

And no nigga was gonna make you second guess that shit. 

The “Lounge Incident”, as your friends lovingly dubbed it, had happened a week ago. Fast forward to the present and there you were, watching your best friend dance and act a fool with the love of her life. You were happy for her, of course, but it did make you feel a little wistful.

The wedding ceremony wrapped up two hours prior and you found yourself nursing a glass of champagne at the reception. You were pretending to be unfazed by the looks Ony was sending you from across the room. You stole a glance at him when you felt like he wasn’t watching you and…dear Lord. 

His white dress shirt was tucked into his green slacks, suit jacket long forgotten, with a few of the top buttons opened. His gold chain shined at you, almost winking, as it matched the gold Rollie on his wrist. He flashed a smile to one of his homeboys and you felt your knees wobble a little. You looked away quickly and crossed the room to find your girls. They were standing around one of the reception tables talking.

“Aht, don’t bring that energy over here, ma’am!” Your friend, Chelsea, said. “That man look like he ‘bout to jump your ass.”

“Please tell me y’all not about to fuck at this wedding,” Liyah groaned.

Your girls laughed loudly and you hid a smile behind your champagne glass as you took a sip. You risked a glance back at Ony, finding his gaze already on you. He didn’t care to hide the fact he was staring at you, not even giving the young lady in front of him a glance as she spoke to him. You whipped around, clearing your throat. 

“Bye, girl. It ain’t even like that.”

The table went quiet, all the girls looking over your shoulder. A shit-eating grin spread across Chelsea’s face as she raised her hand, waving playfully. 

“Hey, Ony.”

Your eyes widened as his chest pressed against your back, his warmth surrounding you. You tried to pretend to be unbothered as your friends gawked with wide eyes and smirks. 

“Hey, ladies.”

The smile was evident in his voice, sending chills down your spine. But you took a sip of your champagne with a neutral face, not acknowledging him. In truth, you didn’t need to. He leaned down so that his mouth was close to your ear, hands braced on the table as he trapped you against his chest. His chain brushed your neck, not helping the goosebumps erupting all over your skin. His words, low so only you could hear them, didn’t help either. 

“Say bye to your lil friends so I can eat your pussy.”

He paused as you turned your head slightly, your faces close to touching. 

“And stop playing with me.”

His eyebrow arched at you as he pulled back, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He addressed your friends again, setting the glass down. 

“Ladies,” He said with a charming smile. 

With that, he left you standing there as you slowly looked back to your friends who gaped back at you. 

“Bye.” You said finally, scurrying from the reception hall as fast as your legs would carry you.

You found Ony outside the building, perched against the wall. A blunt hung from his lips as he gazed at you sidelong. You approached slowly, hips swaying with each step. His eyes never left yours as he sparked up and inhaled, exhaling the smoke slowly. You felt dizzy with need but you weren’t down that bad. Not yet. 

You took the blunt as he passed it to you. You let the smoke soothe you before you exhaled. You took a few more pulls before passing it back to him. 

“Take your panties off,” He said finally, after a long draw. 

You tutted, crossing your arms. 

“You just gon’ act like you ain’t ghost me, Ony?”

“I was wrong for that. But I'm here now, ain't it?” He said casually. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to go back inside. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. His mouth teased yours, opening it as smoke billowed between the two of you. His arm slid down to your waist as you exhaled the smoke he gave you. 

He took another pull, exhaling, before he looked back down at you. 

“I told you stop playing with me.”

“Maybe I'm done with you," You bluffed. "Maybe I got me another nigga to fuck on now.”

Ony scoffed, tucking the rest of his blunt away for later.

“Aight, that’s enough of that shit,” He mumbled, grabbing your hand as he pulled you to the side of the building. 

It was a more hidden spot, behind large bushes that wrapped around the front of the building and off to the side. From there, you could see guests entering and exiting but they couldn’t see you unless they were looking hard enough. Your eyes widened as he kneeled in front of you and shoved your dress up your legs. You swatted at his hands, panicking as your eyes darted around. Ony stilled, his gaze hard as he grabbed your hands and looked up at you.

“Don’t piss me off.”

Now, you were down bad. 

You took a shaky breath as he released your hands, going back to bunching up your dress. 

“Hold that,” He said, tossing your leg over his shoulder. 

You did as he asked, taking the garment in your hands. Your body flushed with heat as he shamelessly nuzzled his nose against your soaked core, smelling your needy scent. He kissed your clothed core and pushed your panties aside, holding them in one hand as he slipped a finger into your dripping cunt. He moved the digit in and out, brushing against that soft spot inside you. 

“Oh, fuck,” You whined, your head falling against the wall. 

“Yeah, say that shit you was sayin’ now,” Ony taunted, sliding another digit inside. “This pussy all mine.”

You panted, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, as you forced out your next question.

“What about that bitch from the lounge, Ony?”

“I was gonna try what she was offering, but she wasn’t you,” He said easily, his eyes glued to his fingers moving in and out of you. “Damn, ma. You sucking that shit in.”

“Ony,” You whimpered. “I don’t want to play no games with you--”

“I’m not. That shit not an offer to me when you’re around,” He said firmly. “Now, you gon’ keep complainin’ or you gonna let daddy eat his pussy?”

“Ony--”

Any rebuttal you had became a wanton moan as he didn’t wait for a response, his mouth descending on your clit as his fingers continued to move inside you. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying in vain to stifle the sounds of pleasure he was snatching from you. He pulled his fingers from you gently, spreading your sopping pussy wider as he fucked his tongue in and out of you. 

He ate you out messily, drinking up your juices like sweet nectar. The slurping noises were lewd as he sucked on your clit, teasing it with his tongue before dipping it back into your weeping hole. His performance was drawing pathetic whines from your throat as you tried to keep the two of you from getting caught. Heat pooled in your belly as his mouth on your core drove you toward a heated finish. 

Then, he stopped completely. You let out a confused moan as the pleasure waned, your orgasm evading you. The confusion didn’t last long, however, as you heard his belt coming undone. He pulled himself from his pants as he tore your panties. He hiked your leg around his waist and slid home without warning.

“Hold on to me,” He grunted, his other hand supporting your back.

You wrapped your arms around him, your head resting on his shoulder as he thrust into you. His pace was rough and deep, fucking you like he owned you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to. You muffled a scream into his shoulder as his length kissed your cervix, unrelenting as the drag of his cock against your tight walls sent you into oblivion.

“Fuck, baby,” He groaned. “You so tight f’me. Takin’ me so good.”

You choked back a sob as his tip brushed that soft spongy spot, bringing back the pool of pleasure from before. Ony noticed your reaction, angling his hips to hit it over and over again. Your whimpers and moans were his own private mixtape as you keened and cried in his ear. He stretched you so good, the feeling of being this full something new and foreign to you. Ony was a bad habit, and he was making sure you wouldn’t be able to kick him any time soon.

That pool of pleasure warmed further with each snap of his hips into yours. Your quiet, open-mouthed cries built in intensity as the temperature inside you began to rise, swirling like a tsunami. You felt yourself teetering on that delicate edge and so could Ony. He picked up the pace. 

“You gonna cum on your dick?” He taunted, egging you on. “You gon’ show me who this dick belong to?”

Your climax crashed over you as you slapped a hand to your mouth, muffling the sob that broke free. He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it as your body seized around him. He could barely pull out, opting for shallow thrusts as you came down from your high.

You sagged against the wall, trying to catch your breath as Ony pulled out. He fixed your dress and smoothed it down around the hips. He tucked himself back into his pants and dug his wallet from his pocket, fishing out his room key. 

He flashed it in front of your dazed face before placing it in your hand. He pulled you off the wall, making sure you looked good before nudging you in the direction of the front doors. 

“Go to my room. Third floor, 303. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You looked down at the key card in your hand then back to him. He sparked up his blunt again, blowing out smoke as he smacked your ass. 

“Go ‘head, ma. I’m coming.”

You jumped slightly from the impact and found your feet moving you out of the bushes. You stumbled back into the hotel lobby, walking on wobbly legs to the elevators with his room key clutched in your hand. Your girl, Chelsea, was coming from the restrooms as the two of you made eye-contact. She smirked, her eyes trailing over you. She subtly adjusted the top of her dress, nodding at you.

You took the hint, fixing yours. 

She went back into the reception hall without a word as you fumbled to press the elevator button. 

Your night was not over yet.

[gh0st-t0wn3]

I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!

Redson: Ver 1

Ver 2

I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!

I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.

I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.

I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.

The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.

As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?

Mei:

I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)

I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.

Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)

(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)

MK:

Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.

I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.

(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)

It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.

I also did MK's clones :)

Porty MK:

I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.

I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.

Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭

Artist MK:

For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).

I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.

Delivery MK:

I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes). 

The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.

[mononijikayu]

lay your love on me — nanami kento.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?” He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.” “Well,” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face, “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.” “And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead,” you announced with a grin.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, possessive behaviour, protectiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader petitions for nanami to be her house husband;

WORD COUNT: 5.4k words.

NOTE: i hope this makes up for the fact that i've been writing a lot of angsty fics. this was supposd to be a baywatch thing. but i changed my mind. anyway, i'll be doing the side - 900 works in advance. i hope you enjoy this!!! from this point, i might be slower in updating because i'll be back to uni again and probably will be a little bit more busy. thank you for reading and always enjoy this one too!!! i love you <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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HE’S NOT PROUD OF THE MAN HE’S BECOME. But it’s hard for him, when it comes to you, his precious wife. Nanami Kento had always considered himself above petty emotions like jealousy. He was calm, rational, the kind of man who could look at the world with a level head.

Yet, ever since he met you, ever since he’s fallen for you, built his life, his universe about you — his life had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. You brought out something in him that was unfamiliar and unsettling—a possessiveness, an insecurity that gnawed at him whenever he saw the way others looked at you. 

As he sat next to you on the sun-kissed beach, the warm Malaysian sunbathing you both in a golden glow, Nanami Kento found it difficult to fully relax. This was supposed to be your quality time, the belated honeymoon you both had both worked so hard to carve out from your hard and demanding schedules. For once, he had managed to take time off from his life as a sorcerer, a rare break that was meant to be a celebration of your love, their commitment to each other. 

You were just as busy as he was, if not more. As a lawyer, you were brilliant, successful, and independent. You made more than he did, something that had never bothered him—until now. Not because of pride, but because it made him realize just how much you had to offer. You could have anyone, and yet you had chosen him. The thought should have been reassuring, but instead, it only added to his insecurity.

Instead of peace, he found himself caught up in a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t just his possessiveness—it was the realization that, for the first time in his life, he was vulnerable. He was vulnerable because he loved you so deeply, because the thought of losing you, or of someone else taking your attention, filled him with a fear he didn’t know how to handle. 

Kento couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you lay on the sunbed, basking in the warm Malaysian sun. The way the golden rays kissed your skin, making it glow, had him utterly captivated. You were wearing the tightest two-piece bikini, a vibrant floral design that contrasted beautifully against your sun-kissed skin. The colors brought out the vibrancy of your figure, accentuating every curve in a way that made his heart race.

He watched as you stretched languidly, your body moving with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly to him. The sunlight danced across your skin, highlighting the delicate contours of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your waist, the length of your legs.

Every inch of you was perfection in his eyes, and it drove him mad how stunning you were. But it wasn’t just your physical beauty that had him so entranced; it was the knowledge that you were his, that this incredible, breathtaking person had chosen him.

His gaze lingered on your face, where a peaceful smile played on your lips, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The gentle breeze teased a few strands of your hair, brushing them across your forehead, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He loved these quiet moments, where he could just watch you, memorize the way you looked in the golden light, the way the sun turned your hair into a halo of warmth.

You were the most beautiful being to ever exist to him, and the thought made his chest tighten with a mix of pride and disbelief. How had he been so fortunate? What had he done to deserve someone like you in his life?

The longer he watched you, the more he felt that familiar, possessive edge creeping in. It was a feeling he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, one that he had never experienced before you came into his life. He had never thought of himself as the jealous type, but when it came to you, something primal and protective stirred within him. He didn’t want anyone else to look at you the way he did, to see what he saw, to appreciate the way you made the world a brighter, more beautiful place just by existing.

And yet, as he sat there, he knew that others couldn’t help but notice you too. It was impossible not to. You were radiant, magnetic, and he could see the way people’s gazes lingered on you, the appreciative looks that followed you whenever you walked by. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to do something irrational, to pull you close and stake his claim in front of everyone.

Kento could see the way men’s eyes lingered on you, the admiration in their gazes as they took in your beauty. It made his blood boil in a way he wasn’t proud of. He wanted to stand up, to make it clear that you were his, that no one else had the right to look at you like that. But he stayed silent, gripping your hand a little tighter, hoping the feeling would pass.

You opened your eyes, and your gaze met his. The smile that spread across your face was one of pure love, your eyes softening as you looked at him. In that moment, all his insecurities melted away. You were his, and he was yours. It was as simple as that.

Kento leaned back in his chair, his own smile tugging at his lips as he continued to watch you. You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, your expression playful as you caught him staring.

“See something you like?” you teased, your voice light and full of affection.

“Always, my love.” he replied, his voice deep and sincere. His gaze never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the intensity of his feelings reflected in his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Kento couldn’t help but grin at that, though his expression quickly turned serious again. “It drives me mad, you know,” he admitted, his voice low. “How beautiful you are. How you’re mine.”

The way he said it, with such raw emotion, made your heart flutter. There was something in his tone, something almost possessive, that sent a shiver down your spine. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. If anything, it made you feel even closer to him, knowing that he felt so deeply for you.

“And you’re mine.” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. The simple touch seemed to calm him, his fingers threading through yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Your eyes narrowed on him. “Only mine.”

And then there was your possessiveness. You couldn’t deny it—you were just as bad as he was when it came to jealousy. You tried to play it cool, but the truth was, you were no better at hiding it than he was. The moment you noticed the women stealing glances at him, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, his chiseled features, you felt a wave of irritation wash over you.

It was subtle, but Kento could sense the tension in you, the way your posture stiffened, the way you shifted closer to him, almost instinctively, as if to stake your claim. You wanted the world to know that this man was yours and yours alone.

Just as it does now.

Because if you were being honest, your husband was the most beautiful man in the world. With his muscular build and tall six-foot frame, he was the epitome of masculine perfection. The way his long, muscular arms held that beer bottle in his massive palm, the casual strength in his grip, made your heart flutter. His chiseled jaw tightened as he glanced in the direction of the men who had dared to look your way, his bright brown eyes narrowing in a clear, unmistakable warning. He didn’t have to say a word—the message was loud and clear: stay away.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. This man belonged to you, and he wanted everyone to be sure that they knew it. There was something undeniably satisfying about the way he made it so obvious, so deliberate. And you knew that he felt the same way about you. 

His gaze flicked back to you, softening when he saw the look in your eyes. It was a look that said, “I’m yours.” and it made your heart swell with love and possessiveness all over again.

You didn’t care if it was irrational, if it was a little bit crazy—this man was yours, and you were his. And you wanted everyone to know that you belonged to each other, that nothing and no one could come between you.

Kento must have sensed your thoughts, because he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You know you’re the only one I see, right?”

His voice was deep, reassuring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, babe." you whispered back, your fingers curling around his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath his skin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure everyone else knows it too.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper, something more primal. “Good.” he said, his tone possessive and full of promise. “Because I’m not about to let anyone forget that you’re mine either.”

You grinned at that, the fiery possessiveness in his words matching your own. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that neither of you would ever let anyone come between what you had. Because you both knew that what you had was rare, precious, and worth protecting at all costs.

As you stood there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. This beautiful, strong, and fiercely loyal man was yours. And you were his.

You pressed a kiss to his jaw, savoring the way he responded, the way his arm tightened around you just a little bit more. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you felt for him, everything you both felt for each other. This man belonged to you, and you belonged to him. And nothing in the world could change that.

It was a strange sort of dance, the two of you caught in a loop of possessiveness that neither could quite break free from. And yet, there was something oddly reassuring about it. In a world where you both faced so many uncertainties, where danger lurked around every corner, this shared jealousy was a reminder that you were both fiercely committed to each other. It wasn’t healthy, Kento knew that, but it was real. Even if you weren’t proud of it, even if Kento wasn’t proud of it — it was real. Between the two of you. It was love for you.

Still, the women’s gazes hadn’t wavered, you noticed. Their eyes still linger on your husband as if they had every right to admire him. The sight made your blood simmer, a protective, possessive streak flaring to life within you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kento—he was as loyal as they came—but you didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at him, as if he were something to be desired, something they could claim if they tried hard enough.

Your grip on his hand tightened as you leaned closer and you cast a glance in his direction. Kento, ever composed, was doing his best to ignore the attention, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered to you as if seeking reassurance. He puts away the beer bottle on the side and looks to you again. 

A grin slowly spread across your lips as an idea formed. If those women wanted to look at your husband, you’d give them something to see—a clear, undeniable reminder that he was yours. You leaned in, your hand resting on his chest as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

Kento looked down at you, a question in his eyes, but before he could ask, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a hot, passionate kiss. The world around you faded as you poured all your love, your possessiveness, your desire into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a statement. A declaration that this man, this incredible, strong, loyal man, was yours. And no one else had any right to him. He only belongs to you. Only you.

Kento’s initial surprise melted away as he responded in kind, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, pulling you even closer. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body relaxed into yours as if nothing else mattered. Kento’s arms slowly wrap around the small of your back, kissing you even deeper. 

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the effect it had on him, the way his eyes had darkened with desire, the small, satisfied smile that tugged at his lips. You glanced over at the women who had been ogling him earlier. Their expressions had shifted—some were embarrassed, others annoyed, but all of them had gotten the message loud and clear.

Triumph surged through you as you turned back to Kento, your grin widening. “I think they got the point, babe.” you whispered, your voice teasing.

Kento chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your lips as if to savor the moment. “I believe they did.” he murmured, his tone filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. “Though I must admit, I didn’t mind that at all.”

“Then…..can we continue this upstairs?”

Your husband’s eyes narrow, almost awakening something in him. “What do you have in mind?”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

YOU DON’T THINK YOU WOULD EVER GET TIRED OF HIM. Nanami Kento always made you feel so many things—desire, love, passion—and you loved every bit of it. The tension between you had been building ever since that heated kiss on the beach, and as you made your way back to your hotel room, it only grew stronger.

Each step, each shared glance, every subtle touch added fuel to the fire burning between you. The anticipation was electric, and by the time you reached the door, it was like a dam waiting to burst.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the restraint you’d both been holding onto snapped. You pressed yourself against him, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that had your head spinning. It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t close the gap between you fast enough. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more desperate, as you both succumbed to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you back toward the bed as he claimed your mouth over and over again, each kiss more intense than the last.

You could feel his desire, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the low growl that rumbled in his chest as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. The moment the fabric hit the floor, his lips were back on yours, his hands working to free you from your bikini. The way he touched you, with a mix of reverence and raw need, sent shivers down your spine. He breaks the kiss.

“Kento, Kento….” you breathed finally, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini, and the sensation of the cool air against your bare skin only heightened the intensity of the moment.

He leaned back for just a moment, his gaze sweeping over you with a look of pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re perfect, my love.” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, before his lips were back on yours, more insistent this time, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

Your hands found their way to the waistband of his beach shorts, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed them down, the fabric pooling at his feet. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hard, muscular frame pressed against you, and it sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

The bed hit the back of your knees, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the soft sheets, Kento following you down, his body covering yours in an instant. The weight of him, the feel of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. He presses his lips against yours again, the heat between your bodies burning you even more.

You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he was trying to memorize you all over again. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, the heat of him throbbing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck once again and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. The feeling of his mouth on your skin, combined with the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, was almost too much to bear.

“Kento, babe.” you gasped, your voice breaking as he found that sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin there in a way that made you arch against him, desperate for more. “It’s so….it’s so hot.”

“Tell me what you want, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with need.

“You.” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. “I want you, Kento.”

The way he responded, with a deep, guttural groan, sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. It was as though he found home again. You groaned as you felt his hands explore the exposed skin. He was enjoying this, you knew. He enjoyed teasing you.

“God, Kento.” you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. He was driving you wild, his touch lighting you up in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You needed more, needed him closer, needed to feel him in every possible way..

You could feel him pressing against you, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that was just as intense as before. It was almost too much, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours, the way his hands moved with such skill and tenderness, the way every inch of him seemed to be in tune with your needs.

The anticipation was building, the need for him becoming overwhelming as you felt his fingers deftly undo the last of your bikini top. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between the two of you. You could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs, the desperate longing for him growing with each passing second.

Kento’s touch was everything—gentle and firm, demanding and patient all at once. The way he handled you, the way he made you feel, it was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to give it to you. He liked to give you more and more, to satiate your greed.

Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt both familiar and electrifyingly new. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of sheets, and the occasional, intoxicating moans that slipped from your lips as Kento's hands roamed over your bare skin.

His touch was a maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, each caress lighting a fire inside you that grew with every passing moment. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the softness of thighs, lingering just long enough to make you gasp before moving on. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his lips followed the path of his hands, kissing and nipping at every sensitive spot he could find.

You arched your back as his mouth moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone before trailing down to your chest. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him on.

Kento responded with a low growl, the sound vibrating against your skin as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body reacting with a surge of heat that pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness there, the way your body was aching for him, and you knew that he could feel it too.

His hands slid down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips before dipping between your thighs. The first touch of his fingers against your slick heat made you cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily as you pressed yourself against his hand. He moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you with light, feathery touches that only made your desire grow stronger.

You could feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost unbearable as he continued to tease you. His fingers slipped between your folds, stroking you with a skill that had your head spinning. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body trembling with anticipation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. One after another, it was a pandemonium of pleasure. When you came, you sobbed as you felt his fingers tighten against your crevices.

“Kento, babe. Please.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, I need you.”

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. There was something primal in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, and that knowledge sent a thrill of excitement through you.He removed his fingers, licking them clean one after another, enjoying the taste of you. The sight of him made you even more wet.

“What do you want, my love?” He cooed at you. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside, Kento.” You muttered, your eyes beaming with pleasure. “Please, babe. Please.”

He didn’t make you wait any longer, his dear love. With a practiced ease, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he guided himself to your entrance. The tip of his cock brushed against your swollen folds, and you could feel the heat of him, the way his length stretched you as he slowly pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely making you gasp for air. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you.

Kento moved with deliberate, measured thrusts, each one sending a wave of ecstasy through your body that made your vision blur. He was gentle but firm, his pace steady as he worked to bring you both to the peak of pleasure. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he stretched you, filled you, in a way that made you feel utterly complete.

Your moans filled the room, each one growing louder as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a growing urgency. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound almost drowned out by the symphony of your lovemaking. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the familiar pressure building as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Kento, I’m… I’m so close, babeeeeee!” you breathed out, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of a powerful release that you could feel building inside you like a storm.

“Let go, love.” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough with desire. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”

His words were all you needed. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last.

Kento followed you into bliss, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release overtaking him. You could feel the warmth of him spilling into you, the way his body trembled against yours as he groaned your name, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, the world stood still. All you could feel was him, all you could hear was the sound of your racing hearts and the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. He stayed inside you, his body pressed against yours as you both came down from the high, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.

Slowly, he pulled out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was quickly replaced by the warmth of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you close, holding you against his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, love.” he whispered, his voice soft and full of sincerity. “So much.”

“I love you too, babe.” you murmured back, your voice barely above a whisper. Your body was spent, completely exhausted from the intensity of your lovemaking, but you felt content, safe, and utterly cherished in his arms.

As you lay there together, his arms tighten around you as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, with the warmth of his body against yours and the sound of the waves crashing outside, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, for as long as you both lived.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

epilogue

Later that evening, after the intensity of your earlier moments had faded into a comfortable, blissful haze, you found yourself curled up against Kento’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. You sighed, almost as though you were the most content in your entire life.

He’d already made sure to take care of you and clean you up, even making you some tea so that you could relax on your shared bed. And you love him for it. He always spoils you to no end. The sound of the waves outside your window was a soothing backdrop, lulling you into a state of utter contentment. 

As you lay there, a thought popped into your mind, one that made you grin mischievously. You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.

“Kento, babe.” you began, your tone teasing, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Hm?” He glanced down at you, his expression warm and relaxed, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?”

He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.”

“Well, babe.” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.”

“And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead.” you announced with a grin.

There was a moment of silence as Kento processed what you’d just said. His usually stoic expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to determine whether or not you were serious. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and it only made it harder for you to hold back your laughter. He looked cute, when he's thinking, you like to believe.

“A… house–husband?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the word out on his tongue.

“Yes! A house–husband, babe.” you confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “You’d be amazing at it! You could cook, clean, and take care of everything at home while I go to work. And you’d never have to worry about exorcisms or curses or any of that dangerous stuff ever again.”

Kento blinked at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, then closing again as he reconsidered. Finally, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “And what would I do all day at your house–husband?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d find plenty to do, babe.” you replied, barely able to keep a straight face. “You could perfect your cooking skills, learn how to fold the perfect fitted sheet, maybe even take up knitting! Plus, you’d have plenty of time to dote on me when I come home from work. Maybe even meet the old ladies at the corner store! They really like zumba, just as much as you do.”

At that, Kento let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Knitting, huh? I didn’t realize that was part of the job description.”

“Well, it’s optional.” you conceded with a giggle. “But I think you’d be really good at it.”

Kento shook his head, clearly amused by your antics. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.” you replied, though the twinkle in your eyes betrayed your true intentions. “I mean, think about it. No more dangerous missions, no more fighting curses. Just a quiet, peaceful life at home with me. Grow old together and me spoiling my husband with bringing in the dough and you spoiling me with all your love. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He considered it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “It does sound nice.” he admitted, his tone still teasing. “But I’m not sure how I’d feel about giving up my job to become a… house–husband.”

“Oh, come on.” you coaxed, poking him playfully in the ribs. “You’d love it. And I’d love coming home to you every day. Plus, you’d look really cute in an apron.”

That finally did it. Your husband Kento burst out laughing, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. You couldn’t help but join in, your own laughter mingling with his as you both imagined the ridiculousness of the idea. But you suppose the ridiculousness of it is what made it so touching. Life is always strange anyway, you think. And he knows that too. 

When the laughter finally subsided, Kento leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate the thought.” he said, his voice full of affection. “But for now,  I think I’ll stick to being a sorcerer for now. Though I have to admit, the idea of being your house–husband is tempting.”

“Tempting enough to reconsider?” you asked with a grin, though you knew his answer.

“Not quite, love.” he replied, chuckling. “But I’ll keep it in mind as a backup plan.”

“Deal.” you agreed, snuggling closer to him. “But just so you know, I’m not giving up on the idea entirely. You’d make an excellent house–husband. Mine only, of course.”

Kento smiled down at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “And you’d make an excellent lawyer who brings home the bacon.”

“Then it’s settled.” you said, laughing. “We’ll just have to make sure you stay safe so I don’t have to resort to plan B.”

“With you by my side, love?  I have no doubt I will.” he murmured, kissing you softly as you both settled back into the peaceful, contented silence of the evening.

[itoshiexx]

can i dance with your s/o?

how the blue lock boys react when someone asks to dance with you.

pairings: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, reo mikage x fem!reader (separate) | warnings: jealousy, slight possessiveness, overall fluff, teeny bit suggestive on sae's

notes: hi guys! i wasn't planing on posting anything since i haven't been able to write (studying for the bar and all), but since i reached 300 followers, i thought maybe i could post this lil thing that was in my drafts for a long time lol it's quite different from what i usually do but i hope y'all like it! and tysm for 300!! <3

Itoshi Rin

the lights of the room flickered around the sparkles in your long dress and practically made you glow. the piece of clothing was beautiful — an italian design rin bought for you specially for that night, where you would accompany him to a charity event. there were hundreds of football players like him in the venue, but rin’s sight could only focus on you. 

a song was playing softly in the background, and he admired you from afar, sitting in the bar along with some of his teammates while you chatted with their girlfriends, who became your friends pretty quickly. that was just how you were, always easy going and approachable, very unlike him. it was easy to be drawn to you like you were the sun, and rin was more than happy to be in your orbit.

then, the song changed to a slow paced tune, and he saw your beautiful eyes turn to him and sparkle just as much as your dress — if not more. the girls you were chatting with came towards their respective boyfriends, but you remained there, just staring, as if knowing it was a lost cause. 

itoshi rin didn’t like to dance. 

and while he was distracted by your orbs, someone decided to talk.

“can i dance with your girlfriend?”

the voice sent chills down his spine, and rin turned to the owner with a harsh glare, scrutinizing the image of none other than itoshi sae. they still had a pretty fucked up relationship, even after rin went pro, and he was not happy to hear what he just heard.

“what the fuck did you say?” his tone came out slowly, a veiled threat.

sae didn’t even blink. “i asked to dance with your girlfriend. you are certainly not doing it, and since i didn’t come with anyone, it would be rude to leave her there. haven’t you learned shit, rin?”

a vein nearly popped in his forehead. it was already bad enough to hear the condescending tone in sae’s voice, but implying he could take better care of you than him? no, that wouldn’t do.

“fuck off, you shitty brother. don’t come near her.”

he stormed off to the dance floor, leaving his shitty brother and his knowing smirk behind, immediately going to your figure. he could tell you were confused, but gave you no time to ask, taking your soft hand in his and dragging you to where the other couples were dancing.

both of his hands found home in your waist, just like he always found home in you. your arms laced his neck by pure reflex, considering you were still very much confused with your boyfriend’s attitude. 

“what happened?”

rin played dumb. “hm? what do you mean? i’m just dancing with my girlfriend.” he shrugged like it was no big deal. 

it really wasn’t. not when you smiled at him like that.

sure, itoshi rin didn’t like to dance. but he loved you, and if dancing would make you happy and keep you away from his shitty brother, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Itoshi Sae

parties were not really sae’s thing. he wasn’t one to socialize with his teammates, and he didn’t feel the need to talk to sponsors or to the media, considering he had a manager to do that. so how he got caught up in one was a true mystery. 

sure, playing for the U-20 national team could be a big deal for a lot of people, but not for sae. he hated japan and all its weak players, and the only reason he agreed to play in the first place was to see project Blue Lock firsthand. he definitely did not sign for a party.

though he supposed he could endure it if you were there. 

the dance floor was crowded, and a pop hit was blasting through the speakers. you were with sae on the bar just a minute ago, but your already tipsy self exclaimed to love this song and the need to dance it, so that’s what you were doing. and fuck, what a sight you were. 

your skimpy dress hugged your body in all the right places, marking the curve of your ass. every time you moved in sync with the beat, swaying your hips, he could feel his breath hitch in his throat, always eager for what was under the fabric. you were breathtaking, and his. 

“hey, genius boy!”

sae grunted when his eyes were forced to leave your frame, and he was not pleased to find oliver aiku by his side, portraying his signature toothy grin. his only acknowledgement was a hum, hoping oliver would take a hint and leave him the fuck alone. 

“nice night, huh?”

sae sighed. apparently, he can’t take a hint.

“sure,” was all he said, turning his eyes back to you. you were still having fun by dancing like there was no tomorrow, and for a moment, sae wanted to smile from the way you were so carefree. he didn’t, though. but maybe something in his stoic demeanor cracked by looking at you, because the guy next to him spoke up.

“whatcha looking at?” oliver followed his sight before sae could fool him, and he felt anger rising when spotting a glimpse of desire in the heterochromatic eyes of his teammate. “oh, wow. what a babe.”

sae narrowed his eyes with an impossibly harsh glare that could make anyone cower. oliver didn’t. “she’s my girlfriend, so back the fuck off.”

“oh! can i dance with your girlfriend? she seems lonely.” the player smirked, seemingly enjoying to tease sae.

“look,” the older itoshi started, unamused. “you should probably know by now that i don’t tolerate bullshit. especially when it comes to her.”

oliver cocked his brow. sae continued, “so if you wanna have a slight chance to win against Blue Lock and not lose your shitty spot in the U-20 team, don’t fucking test me.”

finally, the player raised his hands in surrender, leaving without saying another word. chugging down the rest of his drink, sae made his way towards you, gluing his body behind yours and securing you close with a hand on your waist.

“hey, baby,” he mumbled in your ear. “wanna get out of here?”

Mikage Reo

being the heir of a billionaire corporation was no easy task. although there were some good parts in it, such as the money to do whatever one pleased, reo mostly dreaded everything related to his position. of course, this included the galas thrown by his family. 

these galas were always full of snobby CEO’s and their heirs, trying to secure their spot in the light by arranging a marriage with the Mikage’s son. this part, at least, was solved when reo finally got married to you, and of course enduring hours of these boring parties became a hundred times better with you by his side. 

however, he couldn’t say he was exactly pleased with the way all eyes were on you every time you put on some high couture outfit. you were stunning — reo knew that much, and he always boasted to anyone who could hear about it —, but he couldn’t help the spark of possessiveness that always ignited inside his chest whenever someone else stated this fact. 

such as the old man talking to him. 

“your wife is truly beautiful, mikage. a hidden gem.”

reo could feel his anger rising, jealousy and overprotectiveness becoming one. but he remained calm on the outside, a smiley façade that could effortlessly fool those around him. he couldn’t be rude, considering this geezer was one of the main investors of the mikage corporation. 

“indeed, she is,” he answered through his teeth. the man didn’t seem to notice his gleaming eyes that could very much be homicidal. 

“how long have you been married again?”

“two years.” he took a sip of the champagne glass in his hands. the liquid went down his throat with a burning sensation that made him momentarily forget about the searing rage in the pit of his stomach. 

“oh, to be young again. i wish i could go back and enjoy my youth a little more,” the investor laughed, and reo had to force himself to do the same. his eyes, however, didn’t leave your frame. 

you were graciously talking with three women of high society, distributing kind smiles as if they weren’t as precious as the diamonds in your neck, if not more. reo was well aware that none of the people on that gala deserved the goodness of your heart, but you couldn’t help but be sympathetic towards everyone. maybe that was why you were so adored. he knew for certain it was one of the reasons he loved you so much. 

“do you mind if i dance one song with her?”

fuck. that man was still there. 

“sure,” albeit hesitantly, reo agreed with a forced smile, watching as the investor walked up to you and bowed to ask for a dance. with your usual gentleness, you agreed, taking his hand and going to the middle of the ballroom for a waltz. the mikage could only watch your ethereal form glowing under the candelabrum, eyes softening with the way you were so carefree.

he was glad to have your purity in such a corrupted world.

when the song ended, reo wasted no time in coming to you and taking your hand from the man with a gentlemanly gesture that made you smile. you bid farewell to the investor with a small courtesy, your hand finding your husband’s easily. 

“hey, beautiful.”

“hey, handsome,” you whispered, eyes sparkling. “you were totally holding yourself back, weren’t you?”

you both laughed at the way you could read him so easily. though reo didn’t mind.

“hell, yes. i was dying to drag you back to my arms.”

it was where you belonged, anyway.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[carpkoinobori]

[☆] mean girls — momo x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): applause - lady gaga | moments in love - charli xcx | paparazzi- lady gaga | old friend - mitski | mean girls - charli xcx | west coast - lana del rey | pink in the night - mitski

summary: getting on the survival show sixteen was really just a way to kickstart your acting career. who would’ve guessed it’d take such a toll on you?

pairing: momo x actress!reader

tags: not that much angst, happy ending, barely frenemies traumabonded to situationship to kinda friends to lovers, reader is just a little unstable, there is a good amount of fluff though

wc: 9.3k

cw: dieting, mild sexual content, alcohol, cigarettes (smoking), mention of covid, making out (like 4 times)

ex: not beta read, timeline was as accurate as I could make it given the fact that for some reason no one knows where twice was at during november and october of 2017

a/n: is it me if the story doesn’t have either an ed/restriction reference or catholic elements.. I love charli xcx’s music. reader has a “disgraced” older sister

you were 17 years old when you were told you made it onto sixteen.

you were a JYP trainee— not for an idol group, no, for acting. Yet, you were put into singing and dancing classes. It was a bit weird, but as long as you could perform, you didn’t mind.

you did pretty well, actually. You weren’t a top trainee by any means— this wasn’t your true passion— but you were good. You enjoyed dancing, and were pretty talented with hiphop and other less restrictive styles.

your parents had forced you into ballroom, specifically waltzes, even more specifically the Viennese waltz, since you could remember. You were a prim and proper, well-mannered, upper class girl. Perfect for acting, perfect for the silver screen.

Your father was a business magnate— specifically in transportation. He wasn’t like Samsung, no, but a manufacturer of luxury vehicles. He designed trains, bus systems, even planes, at time— he was a talented engineer, of course, but most of the work had now been relegated to employees. When you told him you wanted to be an actor, he didn’t really mind. Your mother didn’t look like she loved the idea, but it’d be good for the family image, so she conceded. After all, you’d succeed, right?

right?

What they didn’t tell you about being on a survival show is how it gets into your head.

you were competitive by nature, fueled by your parents constant reminders you needed to be the best. You were the daughter of a powerful and rich businessman, with his perfect trophy wife— their only daughter needed to be perfect, of course.

you played instruments— violin, piano, flute— were in extracurriculars— tennis, skiing, dance, language classes— had an absolutely pristine record, and perfect grades. You were the poster child of perfection, a face fit for magazines and your family, the girl a mother would tell you to bring home.

But you know, it gets tiring to be so perfect. You hadn’t had any competition— until now, that is.

Sixteen perfect, beautiful, talented girls. Seven spots.

You had never felt more desperate to prove yourself than in that moment.

It was strange, really— you didn’t want to be in an idol group. You had never even considered it. Your passion was acting, it always had been, and it always would be.

but you had never been bad at anything your whole life. Everything you had tried, you had mastered, a desperate fervor to know and prove yourself. But here you were, for once, not the best at something— and it drove you absolutely crazy.

you needed to be the absolute best, the perfect candidate— the prettiest, the best singer, the best personality, the best dancer—

you couldn’t, though. and it killed you.

You met Momo when you were 15. It was 2013, some time in the winter, although you couldn’t quite remember. Some people said she looked like you, but you didn’t really see it.

She had been a trainee for longer— since 2012– you had never really gotten the chance to talk to her, on account of the fact she didn’t speak Korean. Momo was Japanese, same as Sana. They were both close, obviously, and you had noticed they took Korean language classes with a tall Taiwanese girl you never bothered to learn the name of.

There were the trainees everyone knew would debut— Nayeon, Jihyo, Jeongyeon— and the trainees people didn’t really speak about.

You were somewhere in the middle. You had a lot of skills, both in instruments, languages, sports, and acting, but you weren’t a top trainee by any means. You stayed comfortably in the upper middle, a chance at debut but not too high, not too low to be kicked out, either.

You could dance well, of course, although you sometimes felt a burning pang of jealousy watching Momo dance. She was good at it, unreasonably so. It came so naturally to her. Like she didn’t even have to think about it.

and she was pretty, too. long black hair, black eyes you could drown in. You didn’t to stare too long. She was just.. noticeable. It’s not like she ever noticed. When she was dancing, the only thing that mattered was her reflection in the practice room mirror. Her friend, Sana, would glance at you once or twice, whenever you stared.

She knew.

you never noticed.

Practicing for the competition was obviously stressful, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You were determined, strong, not weak. You learned English, Japanese, played the piano, violin, you had kind of forgotten the flute but you could, once— you had skied since you were four, played tennis at six— you didn’t know, yet, but you would graduate high-school as valedictorian, taking the maximum amount of AP’s for the last four years.

You’d practice till you got a move, perfectly. You were the first to enter the practice room and the last to leave.

you know, contrary to what you’d think, your father’s money isn’t what got you into JYP, or their idol program, or SIXTEEN— well, maybe it played a part into getting you into JYP, but the rest was all you. All your “friends”, other kids you knew, same or richer than you, spent their time partying, shopping, crashing cars and drinking.

some, of course, worked like you. There were parents who didn’t care what their kids did, and parents who needed their children to be the paragons of perfection. Usually, the more high-class your parents were, the more in the public eye they were. Korean standards were strict, and if you didn’t mean it, you’d watch your family apologize for you on public television, renounce your name, and at times, wipe you from the will. Most kids got a pass, their parents pulled some strings, and they were free. But others? Well, the kids that were forced to work hard were usually the ones who had to pay a price.

you would not be disgraced like your sister. She lived in America, now, and you hadn’t contacted her in two years. Not like you missed her. Not like you counted.

“Momo, have you noticed that rich girl staring at you?” The dyed-brown haired girl questioned, twirling a pen in their shared dorm.

“What rich girl?” The long haired girl blinked, black hair dyed close to the same shade of her friend.

“The one sitting across from us? The one that the instructor always says you kind of look like,” she reminded, unimpressed, gesturing at her subtly with the pen.

“Why would she stare at me? She’s the daughter of some famous Korean businessman, we’re two random Japanese trainees,” Momo pointed out, causing Sana sigh and lean in a little closer.

“Momo, that’s not what I’m talking about! Even before she got moved to this dorm, she’s always looking at you. Maybe she’s jealous, you two are always getting compared to each other, after all, and I bet she feels threatened-” She rephrased, Momo’s eyes widening before she cut her off.

“Sana! Quiet down! She could hear you!”

“She’s Korean, Momo, she’s not going to know Japanese, let alone a dialect,” she pointed out, crossing her arms, flicking Momo on the forehead with an amused smile. “You know, I’m starting to think that time you hit your head really did have an effect on y-!”

“Actually, I’m fluent in both Japanese and English,” a cold voice piped up. “I don’t speak the dialects, but they’re understandable,” you added, shifting on the bunk-bed to rest on your hands, a carefully blank look on your face.

Sana turned to you in shock and embarrassment, and Momo pointed at her childishly, exclaiming, “I told you so!”

Sana and Momo had only been in Korea for about a year, at that point, and their Korean wasn’t exactly great.

“Ah.. I’m sorry..” Sana began, slowly, in Korean.

“I just told you, I speak Japanese. You don’t have to speak in Korean. That’s why they placed me here, though. To help you two with your Korean,” you informed, pronunciation sharp and undeniably the standard Tokyo-way of speaking.

“Right.. I’m sorry for talking about you,” Sana began, again, feeling a little humiliated, which made her a bit annoyed. She wasn’t a gossip or anything, you just stared at Momo a lot. It was noticeable. You two were constantly being compared to each other for your similarities in looks, after all.

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, with a wave of your hand. “I’m sure it seems like I stare a lot, but it’s just because I like to analyze the competition, not because I’m jealous of.. well, you two,” you voiced, regarding them both with an amused smile.

To be completely transparent, you were a little jealous of Momo. She was an absolutely amazing dancer. But of course, no one had to know that.

“You know we’re going to be on a survival show, don’t you?” you asked, with a tilted head and pointed stare.

“Well, yeah, we know.. but why am I competition?” Momo blinked, pointing at herself.

You let out a sharp, pointed laugh, almost in disbelief.

“You’re not a bad dancer, and don’t rank too low, either. It’s a seven member group. There’s not a lot of room to be mediocre,” your words were calculated, given sharply, seriousness gracing your words. Momo frowned, mood souring slightly at your clipped, dismissive tone. She didn’t notice, though, how serious you seemed— how some cutthroat ideology laced your words.

Sana did, though. As much as Sana presented herself as an airhead, she was unbelievably smart— especially with people. She knew intentions, how to talk to people, how to get what she wanted with words. You knew this, and recognized her for what she was— a clever, determined, but kind girl. She’d do what she needed to do to get what she wanted, of course, but she’d try to help you along as far as she could. It wasn’t clear to you, yet, if she’d give up her space to let someone else take it.

You weren’t sure you’d ever know.

“Anyway, I have some essays to finish. I’ll graduate this year,” you added, breaking the tension, laying on your bed and taking out your school laptop, beginning to write.

The two Japanese girls stared, dumbfounded, and quietly slinked out of the room after a few minutes. It was too awkward, and you seemed so unbothered, unflappable after that little display— some of the other trainees were intimidated by you, whispers of how you were only in this program to “challenge” yourself, or that it was sure you’d debut because of your father, or talents, or how you were the smartest trainee— all rumors, all untrue. You were placed here for a reason unknown to you, and didn’t even rank particularly high at the moment. You were slowly climbing the ranks, though, and had sat comfortably in fifth place by the time SIXTEEN started.

Although, you’re sure all those people who whispered about you in the halls would be shocked to learn that you’d never end up debuting in the nation’s girl group. A successful actress, of course, but an idol? That wasn’t your fate to have.

Right at the end of June, falling into early April is when filming began.

Your life became practicing, training, working out, practicing, showcasing, and only barely sleeping.

You were still in a dorm with Sana and Momo, although a fourth girl— Chaeyeon— happened to be there as well.

She was the first to be eliminated, though, and it was just you three again.

Sana and Momo had gotten very close with another, younger Japanese trainee named Mina. Mina was very pretty, and had done ballet, and you could already just feel she would debut.

You liked Mina. She was probably who you were closest with. She grew up pretty well off, as well, and did ballet. You could relate to her, and she was the only one you’d keep in touch with after the show.

It was getting harder and harder to believe you’d debut.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon would definitely debut— Mina would, too, along with probably Momo and Sana. Dahyun was really popular, as well as Tzuyu, and there were only seven spots. Jihyo was too good of a singer to be sure what the final lineup would be, and Chaeyoung would be a good rapper— it was all so confusing. It made you all the more desperate to prove yourself wrong, though, because a part of you knew, deep down, you wouldn’t debut. A week before the first day of filming, you had snuck out to the convenience store. It was dark, late at night— you had a craving. Your father smoked cigars, your mother drank vodka and whiskey— not mixed, of course.

you were just scraping 18, now, having graduated in February. You couldn’t legally have a drink, or even smoke till 19, but a part of you itched to try it, curious.

obviously, you weren’t going to risk ruining your image. You loitered around the store, scanning the aisles, but ultimately not buying anything, unable to find something worth possibly gaining weight for.

the managers had been particularly strict before the start of the show.

you went back to your dorm, still restless, and exhausted at the same time.

the life of a trainee was draining.

When SIXTEEN began, everything shifted. You and Momo were still dorming together, but Sana was moved with Mina and there were a lot of other changes.

you were becoming antsy and restless. Watching people get eliminated was taking a toll on you. You ate less, slept less, practiced more— it was getting to you.

momo had begun eating less. a lot less. You couldn’t afford to be worried, you had to focus on yourself.

What no one would tell you about a survival show is that bonds are fickle. You wanted to care about other people, but once you had gotten a taste of the applause, the fans, all the love that came with being in the spotlight— you got hooked.

you were popular among the fans, your skills weren’t bad, maybe you could really debut. It started worming it’s way into your head.

the hunger and exhaustion was making everyone a bit volatile, a bit too confrontational— you were guilty of it, too.

you refused to build any friendships, while you were there, but built a very strong rivalry with Momo.

Everything she did, you did, trying to do it better.

You’d practice at the same time, next to each other, giving backhanded compliments on form and criticism to each other’s footwork and lines

You’d try your best to outdo each other, fueled by the constant comparison and the fact that you two were almost never on the same team together.

but when Momo was eliminated, you felt your heart drop.

you told yourself it was good, less competition that way. But a part of you felt.. empty.

you practiced, going through the motions, but it felt wrong. It was all robotic. There was no passion or emotion, and for that, you were eliminated the ninth episode, along with another girl.

from there, you threw yourself back into acting. You made your acting debut about a year later, months after Twice had debuted.

no one would ever know, though, that you had watched of the rest of the episodes, and congratulated Mina on her debut, telling her you were happy the three of them (Mina, Sana, Momo) would get to debut together. You debated on telling Momo yourself, maybe heading to the practice rooms to do so, out of begrudging respect and happiness, but you never did.

and so began the next nine years.

year 1; mid-May, 2016 | Korea

you had just exited the JYP building, into the cool night of the city after light rainfall. May wasn’t ever too hot, an easy 70 degrees out. It was a bit cold, but that was nothing. It was maybe thirty minutes to twelve, the city sparkling like the stars that were drowned out by smoke and light pollution.

You leaned on the building, debating on whether or not to go out to eat or just go straight home. You were pushed out of your thoughts when you heard the doors open and close, glancing at the person exiting the building.

Momo. Hirai Momo, with light caramel hair, now, looking tired, in some casual practice outfit thrown together hastily.

she still looked good.

her eyes were dark, glancing at some message on her phone. The bright white light illuminated her face, and you were about to quietly slink away when you both made eye contact.

“Momo,” you began, always eager to get the first word in, but not sure what to say.

She stared at you, obviously recognizing you. “Y/n,” she greeted. “I heard you’ve made your acting debut. Congratulations,” she offered, and the Korean off her tongue didn’t sound exactly right to you.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I saw that you debuted. The song was good. Congratulations,” was your reply, tone polite. Momo knew that you and Mina still spoke, even going out to eat together whenever you both had the time, which wasn’t often.

“Thank you,” she replied back, and you hated how awkward everything felt.

“Well, I’m gonna g-”

“Do you want to come with me to the convenience store?” Momo asked, suddenly, immediately backtracking when your words registered. “If you have to go then go, don’t worry about it, nevermind,”

“I’ll go,” you agreed, not entirely sure why you did. “I haven’t eaten yet, anyway,”

the two of your walked a bit far off, entering the convenience store with a little chime and feeling the need to make conversation.

“So.. Momo, why are you practicing so late?” You asked, conversationally.

“We have so many albums and songs lined up, for this year.. we’re working on one right now. I’m sure Mina’s told you,” she murmured, voice low so as to not disturb anyone.

“She’s mentioned that you’re all.. busy,” you agreed, and you noticed how she looked thinner, more tired, somehow older in the span of a year.

she was still beautiful, of course, but you’ve been seeing beautiful people your whole life.

“Is it what you wanted?” You asked, forced lightness in your voice, though it might’ve come out more accusing than you wanted. It wasn’t her fault you got eliminated. Kind of.

She looked at you for a long time, fingers ghosting over some matcha candy you couldn’t name, parts of a life you probably wouldn’t ever see.

“I think it will be,” she replied, looking at the selection of green, instead of at you. the night was warmer on the walk back to your dorm. A grassy, slightly bitter taste sat comfortably in your mouth.

you’d have to start drinking matcha, more.

year 2; early November, 2017 | Korea

Likey had just dropped, and signal had won Twice international success. They were pushing Japan, doing promotions there so constantly you had half a mind to just ask them why they wouldn’t move there, and a nomination to the Korean Popular Culture and Arts Awards.

you were there too, of course, for your roles in a myriad of dramas, at that point.

You had been the lead role in “Strong girl Bonsoon” and “My Ghost” respectively. You were young, yes, 19, almost 20, now— but you had achieved amazing successes, just like the girls you sat near, now.

there was a reason there were almost no pictures of twice at the awards, and you couldn’t find their speeches.

You won, not unsurprisingly, as did Twice, and sat through the performances. You spoke to Mina, easily, but she went to go talk to Jihyo about something, at one point, and you couldn’t really remember or care— both you and Momo could drink now, and they were giving out free champagne.

as the performances closed, everyone had received their awards— you headed to the bathrooms. They were empty, and you stared at yourself in the mirror. Face flushed, hair and makeup still intact, though, black silk dress unmarred by any stains, something you’d bought just to prove to yourself you made it, had your own money now, didn’t need your parents—

the door opened, and Momo appeared inside. It took one glance and the sound of a lock clicking before her lips were on yours.

she tasted like good alcohol and something sweet, your hands in her perfectly styled hair. She pressed you against the wall, your pretty and pink lipstick mixing with her darker one, pulling apart after nearly a minute and a half, panting, your eyes dazed and dilated.

“you have an apartment now, right?” she murmured, breathless.

you did have an apartment, bought the second you turned 19, trying to prove you didn’t need your parents, still. You had made it, for fucks sake.

“I do,” you answered, and you both managed to make it there without any cameras flashing.

your apartment was near the Han river, a testament to your success. It was small, one bedroom, with a large-enough kitchen and spacious living room, large windows that let the city lights in.

the apartment was bathed in a cool, blue glow, by both the night sky, and the building outside the window.

You and Momo had stumbled into the space, hurriedly locking the door without breaking the kiss, barely making it to the bedroom. The apartment had large, wide windows, taking up nearly the entire wall. There were curtains, of course, but they were a bit sheer, and white. The lights of the city illuminated the dark room, letting your fingers fumble with the zipper of Momo’s dress, getting it off.

Her hair was mussed, and you were sure yours was the same, but you didn’t care, right now.

Lipstick stains adorned her mouth, the two of you having created a muted, glossy color, that would later become a favorite, then something you hated, to something you’d think about, fondly.

She took off your dress, carefully— it was Dolce and Gabbana— although hers was much the same, in the sense that it must’ve been designer, as well, although you didn’t bother to check the tag.

Both articles of clothing ended up sprawled on the wooden floor, anyway, forgotten.

you kissed her desperately, the two of you thoroughly lost in each other.

your skin burned, her hands feeling too hot, your brain slowly melting away every other worry other than her.

to be honest, you were a little too drunk to remember everything that had happened.

you kind of wished you did.

Waking up the next day at four thirty in the morning was rough. Running on two and a half hours of sleep, you groaned when you heard Momo’s alarm go off.

she didn’t wake, though, you had turned it off fairly quickly, and the alcohol mixed with the sex— the word left a bitter taste in your mouth, for some reason— had knocked her out cold.

you watched her, for a bit. Hirai Momo was beautiful, you’d always known that. You never really realized it till now, though. Soft, short brown hair, dyed, a peaceful expression, smooth skin bathed by cold light, in a mostly white space.

your apartment was sparsely decorated, feeling more like a museum than a home. You didn’t even call it home, just ‘the house’ or ‘the apartment’. There wasn’t any life to it. It wasn’t a place to get attached to.

You contemplated waking her up. You didn’t really want to, but you knew you had to.

“Momo,” you murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. “Momo, you have to wake up,”

She groaned, turning, screwing her eyes shut. “No.. I’m tired,” was her muttered response, and you could barely even tell if she was speaking korean or japanese (it was japanese, she had only been in korea five years at that point. that’s not enough time to completely switch languages).

“Momo, your alarm went off, you need to get up,” you urged, speaking in japanese in hopes it’d get through her head, better.

She let out a sound of protest, but opened her eyes, sitting up. “What time is it?” She muttered, running a hand through her hair. The both of you weren’t wearing clothes, obviously, but the sight of her was still a little much for so early in the morning.

“It’s fifteen minutes to five,” you informed.

“I have to be at Inkigayo at five thirty,” she exclaimed, eyes widening. “Oh god,” she cursed, under her breath, distressed.

“Look, you can borrow some of my clothes. No one’s gonna know it’s mine,” you muttered. “You can keep it, so we never get caught for sharing clothes. Plus, the worst that could happen is we say you slept over because I invited you to go eat, or something.. it doesn’t matter, we’re two girls anyway,” you explained.

Momo stared at you, dumbfounded, still processing the words that came out of your mouth before agreeing. “Okay, yeah.. can I use your shower?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, trying to be nonchalant when she was naked in your bed, and looked too fucking good for having just woken up. Fuck those instructors, you definitely did not look like Hirai Momo. You wished you did.

you handed her a simple pair of pink sweatpants and a dark red hoodie. They weren’t things you had actually worn, yet, just thought they were cute. Momo wasn’t too far from your height, anyway, so they fit fine.

She showered, changed, and it wasn’t that long of a drive to Inkigayo, and a taxi could probably get her there in fifteen minutes.

it was 5:15, now, and she was drying her hair on the balcony. You had also gifted her a pair of white sneakers, to complete the outfit. It fit their concept, anyway.

you were on the balcony, too, watching the sunrise with a Bohem Cigar Shake hanging out of your mouth, lit.

Momo didn’t smoke, you had learned when you offered her one. She didn’t like the smell.

truth be told, you weren’t the biggest fan, but these were sweet, they left an aftertaste in your mouth a lot of people hated, but you kinda liked it.

You put it out on an ashtray once you accidentally burnt your finger tip, sucking on the mark and snubbing the cigarette out with your other hand.

Momo gave you a slightly concerned look, but you assured her you were fine.

she left in your clothes (no one would ever know, just you and her members) into a taxi you paid for, to perform at a music show you’d watch.

you and momo met on and off for the rest of that year, between promotions and award shows and restaurants and going shopping with Mina and taking pictures together and her visiting you on set—

the public called you great friends.

at least they didn’t see where her hands tended to rest.

year 3; mid-February, 2018 | Japan

you were 20, officially.

Twice had begun their Japanese tour, releasing Candy Pop a week into February.

the 14th was the Gaon chart music awards, which twice attended, of course.

you were still filming some dramas in Korea, but had managed to get time off to go to Japan. For no other reason than the fact Japan was beautiful in February, of course. It’s not like you attended the Gaon chart music awards to see Momo— no, Sunmi had released some good music, too, and of course you were friendly with all of twice.

the after parties for the awards were always fun.

“Momo, wait,” you murmured, breathily, pressed up against some wall in the buildings seemingly-millions of bathrooms.

“What?” she blinked, deep brown eyes blown wide, staring deep into your own.

“I didn’t.. it’s. I got you something,” you admitted, quietly. You handed her a small, dark red box, that you had kept in the small black bag you had taken.

you were wearing 2017 MiuMiu, a black minidress that your stylist had complemented with pearls and silver, tightening the waist and removing some of the collar. What was left was a striking black dress, soft fabric, and a lower neckline, paired with, of course, a vintage black MiuMiu leather handbag.

“Open it,” you instructed, to which the other girl did, to reveal two Mikimoto pearl earrings, having 18kt gold yellow gold posts. You had found it at an auction, they weren’t relatively expensive— $500– and from ten years prior. You thought they’d suit her, and so you bought it.

she just stared at you, a bit surprised, dumbfounded—

“Why’d you get me this?” were the words that slipped out from her mouth. She had the same shade of lipstick on, this time liquid, and your lips were colored with a pink gloss, girlish.

“Don’t you know what day it is?” You laughed, amused, tilting your head. “It’s the fourteenth of February,”

“You got me a gift for valentines?” She clarified, slowly, recoiling, a grimace slowly morphing onto her face.

you noticed, of course.

“No,” you lied, easily. “For the win,”

you both knew it wasn’t true, but allowed yourselves to indulge in the lie just a little more.

you two were just high off the high-life, making it big for the first times in your life.

momo left your hotel room before you saw her in the morning.

the note; “早退してごめんなさい。コンサートがあったんだ。” (sorry for leaving early. there was a concert)

you knew there was no concert the fifteenth of February. momo was a horrible liar, but you knew, later, from photos, they were in an airport that day.

you never asked to where.

(It wasn’t a question, but she did send you a silver-chain necklace, a pearl-heart pendant, march 14th. you hadn’t taken it off)

year 4; early August, 2019 | Korea

you were nearly 21, now.

“Momo, who the fuck is Heechul?” you spat, looking at a news article. The girl, who now had black wavy hair, a little lower than her shoulder, was currently lounging in your bed. Promotions for Dance the Night Away had just started, and she looked better than ever.

Her eyes widened, and she sat up, looking hurt and a little panicked. You never spoke to her like this, not since Sixteen, and you both rarely spoke in Korean, anymore.

“What do you mean? He’s just a friend-”

“Don’t lie to me,” you cut in, sharply. “You’ve been acting weird ever since I gave you those earrings, Momo. Why?” you demanded, the anger masking all the hurt you felt.

she was silent, for a bit, drawing into herself, looking to the side and holding her arms.

“We can’t be anything more than this,” she murmured.

“What?”

“I have a career. I have a group, I can’t just.. leave it all,”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, a little high pitched.

“We should stop. You.. you like me too much,” she decided. “It’s safer if I’m.. you know, with a guy. It won’t be favorable, but it’ll get people off us both. People talk too much, nowadays,” she continued.

“I mean.. it’s just that.. you know, we’re both girls. That’ll ruin both of our careers. And I like being an idol. I won’t.. I won’t just give it up,”

“Momo, are you serious?” You exclaimed, shocked. “You’re refusing to see me, when we’ve been pretending to be just friends for over three years now, and instead.. you’re gonna date some guy? Momo, that could ruin your career, too! No one knows about us, I haven’t told anyone! Why are you being so-“

“It won’t be as bad as if it were us two,” she reminded, pointedly and acidly. “Not all of us have a rich family to fall back on. I had to work to get here. I will not give it all up just because you want to.. to play around, and pretend we’re in love!” She cried, aggravated.

you stared in shock. You didn’t even know what to say, the whole reason you refused to use your parents was your desperation to be independent from them.

you knew what they’d do to you if they found out what you were.

you didn’t want to have to rely on them, in case they ever found out.

you didn’t want to be like your sister.

“That’s not fair, Momo. You don’t-“

“I do!” She shot back. “I do, this is fair! This is my life, this is my career, you don’t get to tell me what I should do! Just- god!” She shouted, throwing her hands in the air, collecting her things. She got dressed, fixed her hair quickly into a bun, and stormed out of your apartment.

“Don’t contact me again,” were her low, parting words.

year 5; early January, 2020 | Korea

you had just turned 21 a little bit ago. the rest of 2019 had been absolute hell. you saw Momo everywhere you went— on advertisements, on tv, heard her on the radio.

and now, New Year’s Day, it was confirmed that she was dating Heechul.

you were in your apartment, still mostly empty save for a few things you had bought for her— like a tea kettle, an assortment of matcha flavored snacks, a second toothbrush—

everything hurt.

you did the only thing you could think to do.

you called your sister.

it was eleven something in the morning in New York, she’d have to pick up.

“Hello? Y/n, why the hell are you calling m-“

she was cut off by the sound of a choked sob, more like a hacking, and a shaky inhale.

“I get it now,” were your broken, pained words. “I fucking get it now,”

“Oh, y/n,” she murmured, quietly.

“I’m so sorry,”

10 years prior; late September, 2010 | Korea

“I’m gay. I have a girlfriend,” were the earth-shattering words your sister, freshly 18, had dropped on the shoulders of you and your parents in the middle of a family dinner.

“You’re what?” Your mother asked, slowly, giving her time to play it off. She stood, steadfast.

“I’m gay. I have a girlfriend,” she repeated, clearly.

Your father and mother stared at her, for a long while. You didn’t really know what would happen, yet— you had never heard your parents even mention their opinion on homosexuality, but there’s no way they’d care, right? It didn’t really matter-

“Get out,” were your fathers cold, flat words.

your sister nodded, once, clenching her jaw. She packed her things, appearing back downstairs within twenty minutes. (she had already packed the day prior. She knew how this would go).

“Wait, why does she have to leave? I don’t-“

“She’s not your sister anymore,” your mother informed, curtly.

“She’s not apart of this family anymore,” your dad restated.

“But.. why?” You asked, barely 13.

“It’s unnatural, and bad for the family image. It’s not good for us,”

you didn’t really think that was enough reason to kick a child out. But you couldn’t argue.

your sister left, that day, passing you her number secretly.

you didn’t have a bad relationship with your sister.

but for a few years, you refused to talk to her. You would not disgrace the family, you would not give up everything—

you just couldn’t understand why she give up a cushy life of luxury to go to school in New York, all for some girl.

“You’ll understand when your older,” she’d tell you, quietly, over the phone, when you both still got the chance to talk— before you had become paranoid of getting kicked out, like her.

“One day, you’ll meet someone you’ll love. You’ll love them, to the point that nothing matters as long as you’re together,”

“I don’t think I will,” you’d reply, so sure. “That’s stupid,”

“It is, isn’t it?” She’d laugh.

“You’ll get it, though, one day,”

you had flown to America, right in the beginning of 2020.

you went to New York, to live with your sister for a bit— you just needed to be around family— family that wasn’t your parents. you got an offer to shoot a drama there, anyway.

you had no idea you’d end up stuck in america for nearly a year, due to Covid.

whatever, you’d think.

not like you’d have anyone to come back to in Korea.

In America, you were more free.

no one particularly cared what anyone was doing— you couldn’t go out, and you were alone in the apartment you had rented.

your sister would come over with her girlfriend— now, wife, because you could get married, here— sometimes, but not often.

you smoked camels, now, unfiltered, by the balcony, overlooking a city so much the same and too different.

you texted Mina, a lot. She kept you updated.

you both made a point not to talk about Momo.

the necklace Momo had gifted you was left in your jewelry box in korea.

the house was a perfect snapshot of your life, then, untouched by changes.

it was a picture frozen in time.

god, fuck this place.

year 6; late June, 2021 | Japan

you were 22, now, having made it back to Korea in late may after finishing your drama, finally getting everything together and back to your apartment in early June. Your return was publicized, there were a few people who still came to the airport even with all the restrictions, but you had made it back to your country.

it had really helped, to get it all out, put everything in perspective.

you still smoked camels, now you drank tequila— the remnants were mementos of a life most people wouldn’t see.

you flew to Japan, though— you had the prospect of an ambassadorship, and they wanted you to fly over, for some reason.

you messaged Mina about it— maybe you two could meet up, go eat. you hadn’t seen her in a while. you spoke, gave her your hotel and room number, and you both agreed to see if you could schedule it.

the next day after you'd messaged her, there was a knock on your door.

you thought it’d be Mina.

Momo had shorter black hair now. It suited her.

Momo had hurt you.

you cried for at least three weeks. She seemed happy enough when you saw her through a screen. she was still with Heechul. She shouldn’t be here.

you opened the door.

momo’s eyes were watery, and she looked up at you, pleadingly.

“Y/n,” she began, voice shaky.

“What do you want?” You snapped, even though you didn’t really mean to.

“We broke up,” were her words. You stopped, for a second. You knew what this was. You were her rebound.

“I-“

“When I saw you came back, I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, y/n,” she murmured, crying now. “I didn’t want- I- I just.. I was so scared. But, I just- I can’t- it’s been too long. I can’t keep going without you, I need you, I..”

you pulled her inside, shutting the door, locking it, and pressing her against it. You hadn’t forgotten how her hair felt in your hands, soft and silky, how she always tasted a bit sweet.

people said she was a peach, but she didn’t exactly taste like it.

except for when she wore the peach lipgloss you got her, one time, as a joke.

she ran a hand through your hair, tugging on the strands, pulling you closer. god, she kind of reminded you of herself.

her tears made the kiss taste salty.

this time was different. it was not slow, it had no love in it. she had hurt you, she had left you, and now she was crawling back.

you left marks where no one but her would see. you ran your teeth over her pulse point, but never bit down.

your kisses were bruising and filled with anger and resentment.

this was a bad idea.

this was always going to be a bad idea.

it was only around 11 when you had both felt too tired, resigning yourself to sleep.

momo had hated sleeping alone, without you.

she pressed her face into your neck, eyes screwed shut. you felt a little bad, despite yourself. you had been a bit mean..

“Momo, go to sleep,” you spoke, softly, carding a hand through her short black hair.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for leaving. please don’t-”

“It’s okay,” you interjected, because you really didn’t want to have to hear the rest of her words. “I don’t have a schedule tomorrow, anyway,” which was not true, you had to go discuss the drama you were shooting at one in the afternoon, but you weren’t telling her that.

they weren’t the exact words she wanted to hear, but they were as close as you could get, right now.

you ran a hand through her hair, as her arm stayed around your waist. she was clinging onto you, like you’d disappear.

you probably should, to get back at her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to quit.

momo was kind of like every bad habit you couldn’t quit— smoking, drinking— they weren’t good for you, but they made you feel better.

she was addictive, like that.

but here, in your hotel room bed, kind of like last place you saw her, now the first time you’ve seen her in almost a year and a half—

she kind of seemed like something you really couldn’t live without.

July 8th, 2021 | Japan

they had flown back to Korea the day prior. You were still in Japan, when you saw the article.

momo and heechul had finally announced their break up to the public.

good, you thought.

you had gone out to eat with Mina a week ago, you both talked about your lives— work, vacations, how busy you both were. you asked about her members.

July 1st, 2021

“How is everyone?” you asked, with a tilted head.

“Everyone’s good, I’m happy we’re back in Japan, I got to see my parents, so did Sana, so did..”

“you can say her name, you know,” you muttered.

“Listen, y/n, I’ve tried not to get involved, but this isn’t good for you two. After you left, Momo could barely sleep. She ate less, too, and she still had to go on dates with Heechul to make it look real. She didn’t even really want to date him, she was just-”

“I know, Mina. But- you know, it’s not up to me. She’s too scared to be with me. She doesn’t really love me,” you chuckled, though it was more bitter than amused.

“I think she does,” she replied. “I just don’t think she’s realized it yet,”

year 7; late May, 2022 | Korea

“Momo!” you called, just a few months into being 23.

you had decided to pick up Momo from the airport.

now, fans would never know, but you just really wanted to see her.

she had been in the U.S. for months, now, touring, and you had missed her.

even with all your miscommunication you both still met up, sometimes— you visited your sister as an excuse when they held their concert in New York City.

you did meet with Momo, after the show.

“How was America?” You asked, in english, as she got into the car. She looked tired, her hair now ash-blue and a little longer.

“Good,” was her response, a tired smile under the mask.

she coughed, and you glanced at her, a bit worried.

“Nayeon and Tzuyu are sick, too,” she mumbled. “Can you take me to the apartment?”

and so you did, the apartment she shared with Nayeon. You helped her with the luggage, and you tried to kiss her but she moved her face— she didn’t want you sick.

Nayeon, Momo, and Tzuyu all tested positive for Covid-19 the following day.

To no one’s surprise, you tested positive for Covid as well, but with very mild symptoms that felt more like an annoying cold.

you obviously couldn’t go to any filmings or schedules, and Mina ended up positive too—

so you drove to Momo’s apartment with soup. Like a lovesick idiot.

Nayeon let you in, and you knew better than to not bring her some soup as well. You handed it to her, and went straight to Momo’s room.

she looked.. sick. coughing, exhausted, you were sure she was achey and had a headache.

her fever wasn’t too bad, on account of all the medication she was taking.

“Momo?” you called, running a hand through the girls hair. “I made you soup,”

she sat up, blearily, looking a little hazy.

“I’ll get you sick,” she mumbled.

“I’m already sick, don’t worry,” you assured.

you fed her the soup, because you were that painfully whipped, talking quietly about what you had been doing since they went on tour.

you made her take some Tylenol, because her face felt hotter when you put the back of your hand to her forehead.

you got up to leave, but she grabbed your hand, tugging you back like a child.

“can you stay?” she mumbled, looking at you pleadingly. you would never say no, of course.

it’s not like you had something better to do.

for the rest of the time you were sick, you would visit Momo, watch dramas with her, sleep in her bed, next to her— you both acted so much like a couple Nayeon pulled you aside after almost a week.

“Y/n, I don’t know how long this thing with Momo has been going on, exactly, but it looks like you make her happy, so.. thank you. It’s been a lot, lately, with touring and Heechul.. take care of her, okay?”

she walked off before you could explain that, no, you two weren’t dating, and you were scared that if you asked her to date you she’d run away again.

you had to go shoot some drama, again, even if you really didn’t want to, after you tested negative.

you both got busy, after that. Especially you— you had so many dramas to film.

February 8th, 2022

@OT9TRANS … BUBBLE MESSAGE 🍑💬 220208 MM: I have watched Call, watched Burning, watched Nothing Serious, and Money Heist. I have watched them all🫠❤︎ MM: i really like y/n l/n nim ♡ She’s my style 🫣

year 8; early January, 2023 | Korea

it was your 24th birthday party— you had turned 24 in winter of last year, but this was the only day you could make it work, because Twice had another tour starting in February.

You invited them, all 9, to noraebang— karaoke. obviously, some of your own friends came, too. You had made a lot of friends in the industry after so many years.

Momo’s hair was still black, grown out a bit more, but not as long.

you all sang and drank— Nayeon, particularly, having a good time singing every Twice song she could.

you sat next to Momo, pleasantly tipsy, and everything felt warm.

it was a little crowded, but you had rented a bigger space than normal. It was dim, the only lights coming from the screen in front of you.

after a little bit, you slipped outside. The place you rented had a rooftop, and you planned to make full use of it.

The skyline had changed from 8 years prior. It used to have less buildings, smaller skyscrapers— now it almost seemed as if the blue and red lights of the city were truly the stars in the sky.

You lit up a cigarette, this time, Cheyenne peach, and took a drag.

you heard a metal door open and shut.

Momo sat down next to you, and you offered her a drag.

she wrinkled her nose.

“They smell, y/n, why do you still smoke them?”

“Just a bad habit, I guess,” you shrugged.

she plucked it out of your mouth, tossing it to the side.

“It’s bad for you,” she chided.

how ironic, for her to say that.

“There’s a lot of things that are bad for me that I still do,” you replied, quietly.

she was silent, for a second.

she held your face, pulling you closer. She tasted like soju, which is to say smooth alcohol, of which you’ve been drinking the whole night.

it was sweeter than usual, because you can’t stand bitter tastes, and you noticed Momo was wearing nearly the same shade of lipstick as six years ago

your hands held her waist, loosely, the both of you sitting back on your heels, only leaning forward for each other.

when Momo pulled away, you felt a little dazed.

“I don’t want to be bad for you,” she mumbled, and all these years had seemed so childish— just two girls, trying to figure it out. You never wanted to hurt each other. It was just fear, and maybe a little shame, and so much love that it nearly drowned you.

“Momo,” you began, quietly. You knew that what you were going to tell her would force her away from you forever, but you didn’t care.

“I love you,”

the confession hung in the air, ringing through resounding silence. Seoul in January was cold, and your breaths could be seen in the air.

when Momo didn’t reply, you felt tears well in your eyes even if you knew this is how it would be.

“I’m sorry,” were your nexts words, and when you hiccuped, Momo finally broke out of her daze.

she screwed her eyes shut, snaking her hand to your nape, pulling you into her, kissing you desperately.

“no, don’t apologize,” she muttered, between gasps for air.

“I love you, y/n. I love you,”

it felt like the world stopped, in that second.

“I’m sorry for.. being scared, but I’m not anymore. I love you,” she repeated, wiping the tears from your eyes, thumb caressing your face.

“Really?” you asked, hope and fear mixing into your words. This could just be some cruel joke, after all, it could-

“y/n,” she said, seriously. “I love you,”

you leaned in again, and it was softer, now, feeling a year roll down your cheek, not from sadness but from relief, and happiness.

“God, Momo,” you choked out. “I love you so much,”

you both stayed like that, for a little under half an hour, telling each other all the things you wished you had so many years ago, making hopeful promises and swearing never to hurt each other again.

“Here,” Momo said, suddenly, producing another small box.

it was a beautiful silver chain bracelet, with a little pink gemstone in the center in the shape of a small star.

momo had the same bracelet on her wrist, though the gemstone was in your favorite color and the chain was in gold.

“Happy birthday, y/n,” she offered, putting the bracelet on your wrist.

you smiled, genuinely, eyes crinkling. You pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“It’s beautiful,” you admitted, softly, before a teasing smile worked its way onto your face.

“You’re beautiful, too, so do you think you could be my gift, instead?”

that comment earned you a slap on the shoulder and a chiding ‘yah’, but it gave you the view of Momo’s face flushing pink, and the sound of her infectious laugh.

“If you ask nicely, I’ll consider it,” was her response, in the end.

you and Momo were definitely dating, now, and you leaned your head forward, resting your forehead on hers.

“How do you say girlfriend in Japanese?”

Momo’s cheeks turned a little pink, again, and she was well aware you already knew, but she indulged you. It was your birthday, after all. “恋人” she mumbled, but you knew well enough. (lover)

a smile grew on your face.

“I know you already know Korean well enough, so you shouldn’t call anyone else 자기야 but me, okay?” you informed, mostly joking.

“Sure,” she agreed, smile blooming on her face at the thought of you calling her your girlfriend. “Anything you want,”

year 9; early April, 2024 | Korea

Momo’s black hair had stayed the same for almost two years or so.

it was still a bit short, but you didn’t really care.

you were 25, now, didn’t smoke anymore, having been dating Momo officially for nearly a year.

You two had actually gone on a date— you had been commenting on each other’s Instagram jokingly for weeks now. Her fans had been convinced she would “not pull” with her.. strange choice emojis, but they didn’t know you had already fallen head over heels for the loser you were currently sat next to.

you went to go get something to eat, with her, and it was still a little cool in Seoul.

you took photos, together— and posted them— something you would’ve been terrified to do a few years prior, fearing a dating scandal or something worse— the destruction of your careers.

your worlds weren’t as scary, anymore. Twice had been around nearly 10 years, and you had been acting for the same amount of time. The public loved you, and though you didn’t feel like announcing your relationship status to the world, (you were both private, like that) it was nice to know that if anything were to come to light, you and Momo would be safe. Korea had gotten a lot more accepting, over the years.

your parents were still the same, though they had become less strict about it. Your sister came home, sometimes, and your mother might actually love her girlish and kind wife more than her own daughter.

you made jokes about it, frequently.

your dad didn’t know about Momo, neither did your mom— your sister did, but after what happened to her, she wouldn’t force you to tell them. You didn’t think your parents would freak out, demand you to leave and disown you— but you didn’t want to risk it.

on breaks, you and Momo would visit Japan, or any other city she wanted to go to.

if she had a fashion week schedule, well, you’d try to go! Especially as a fellow ambassador of MiuMiu. The public knew you both as close friends, so any antics were now ignored and written off as just friendship.

honestly, your house was better, now, because of her. The apartment was no longer something not lived in, out of a catalog—it was filled with little reminders of you two.

photos of each other, your achievements on a bookshelf, a tea kettle you’d thought Momo would like, her clothes she’d leave there, plants you thought would make the place look better, little knickknacks from traveling, a second toothbrush—

it felt like a home, full of little curios and plants, a reminder of the life you loved with Momo.

and now, as you sat next to her on the couch the two of you had bought together, under warm lighting and lights of the city outside the window, so much different than the one from the skyline eight years ago, completely different buildings but the same cool, multicolored glow, taking pictures for an Instagram post that others would call like it was, a “date”, but never know how real it really was—

you pressed a kiss to her cheek, smiling into it, as she took the photo.

she turned to you, an amused expression on her face, albeit a bit surprised, perfectly tinged the pink shade of the lipstick you used to wear—

“What was that for? You know we can’t post that-”

“I love you,” you interrupted, with a stupid smile on your face.

“I love you too, silly, but we still can’t-”

you cut her off, again, pressing a kiss to her lips, discarding the phone, somewhere, smiling as you cupped her face in your hands.

those pictures, of you two kissing? They wouldn’t be posted.

the rest would, of course, a day late— you had gotten a bit sidetracked.

it didn’t matter, though.

you truly, irrevocably, loved Hirai Momo. She was beautiful, talented, funny, kind— you could keep going, there were a million and one reasons to love her.

but for some reason, she loved you back.

A/N: hi guys!! I had been thinking about this plot line for actual weeks but I managed to finish this in 10 days.. crazy.. I only started actually working on it 3 days ago though LMFAO

so.. there was a lot of research put into this fic. I tried to make the timeline as close to the one in real life as possible, but obviously there will be some inconsistencies. y/n is momo’s fav actress if you could not tell.. I wonder why

i don’t exactly love how this fic came out— I kind of lost the plot and repeated myself a lot. it actually came out completely different than how I originally imagined, which is why the song doesn’t exactly match? but I hope you enjoyed!

I will hopefully be posting more frequently.. I have a few things in mind, but my works take me a long time because I usually set them up, get the plot, then sit down and finish like 8k words in two or three days.

not beta read, I’m tired, maybe tomorrow.

please feel free to send asks and reqs! I love talking to you all <33 id love to know what you think..

I must sleep, now. goodnight, byebye!! ><