꒰ . 🍒 。ʝᥲყℓᥲ ◟ `` ˖

watch out! it's the ever-competent maid duo 🧺🫧

watch out! it's the ever-competent maid duo 🧺🫧

˚. ᵎᵎ isagi with an idol sister

an — hi nonnie! im doing great ty for asking <3 i dont know much about idol culture and stuff but i hope u like this anyways <3

HE'S YOUR BIGGEST SUPPORTER

when you told him you were finally going to debut after years of training he almost cried from how happy and proud he was

He buys all your merch — lightsticks, photocards and if you debuted in a group he’d only buy the album version with your face on it

 He was photographed one too many times on the first row of your shows

and he probably got clowned online because of it

especially if you were the type of idol to make those cutesy songs that are deemed to be more “girly” (like some illit or newjeans typa sound)

He didn't care though

If supporting his sister makes him a clown, then he might as well give up on football and open his own circus.

Speaking of football. When the other guys found out the two of you were related they didn’t believe him at first

cus like, you’re telling them the cute idol they’ve seen on tv is related to this guy who cusses everybodies bloodline on the field??

But then you came to one of his games (because you’re also his biggest fan) and only then did they believe him

People always joke how your parents must’ve made some sort of sorcery or evil pact to give birth to two talented and famous kids

"miss isagi must have a golden womb or something… "— bachira probably

˚. ᵎᵎ isagi with an idol sister

an — hi nonnie! im doing great ty for asking <3 i dont know much about idol culture and stuff but i hope u like this anyways <3

HE'S YOUR BIGGEST SUPPORTER

when you told him you were finally going to debut after years of training he almost cried from how happy and proud he was

He buys all your merch — lightsticks, photocards and if you debuted in a group he’d only buy the album version with your face on it

 He was photographed one too many times on the first row of your shows

and he probably got clowned online because of it

especially if you were the type of idol to make those cutesy songs that are deemed to be more “girly” (like some illit or newjeans typa sound)

He didn't care though

If supporting his sister makes him a clown, then he might as well give up on football and open his own circus.

Speaking of football. When the other guys found out the two of you were related they didn’t believe him at first

cus like, you’re telling them the cute idol they’ve seen on tv is related to this guy who cusses everybodies bloodline on the field??

But then you came to one of his games (because you’re also his biggest fan) and only then did they believe him

People always joke how your parents must’ve made some sort of sorcery or evil pact to give birth to two talented and famous kids

"miss isagi must have a golden womb or something… "— bachira probably

Bunny Iglesias’s grin was wolfish as you obediently laid down on the bed. His jersey on, pushed up to reveal your tits and plush cunt. Exactly how he liked you.

“Look at you,” he hummed. “From super fan to cocksleeve in two weeks flat.”

Your hole visibly clenched at the words, the patience he undressed himself. The thick scars that ran along his body, his proud cock that weeped at the crown.

Still no preparing, no wetness prepared you for him shoving in hard. splitting you open, again and again, until your toes curled and your mouth hung open in a silent scream.

“That’s right,” Bunny groaned, pounding you so fast in the mattress it shook. “Taught that little cunt how to crave me. Say it. Who owns you?”

“You do,” you keened. “You own me, Bunny. Please. Need to be filled again. I want it. Want your cum.”

Eyes rolled back you were already cleaning. At this point you were too far gone to pretend you had any dignity left. You let yourself fall into the spiral of ecstasy and whimpered for him.

Bunny fucked you through each wave of pleasure, letting you soak his cock, the sheets. After three, or maybe five orgasm, he held your hips down and forced his cum deep into you. Not that you would’ve fought him.

“Open,” he ordered after a moment.

You obeyed, mouth open wide and tongue out. His cock slipped out and he immediately reached down to scoop up the cum spilling from you. Then he fed it to you.

“Muy bien,” he whispered as you sucked his fingers clean. “You keep that attitude and maybe I’ll allow you to ride me next time?”

“Next time?” You asked wrecked.

Bunny chuckled. “Oh mi corazon, I’m never letting you go.”

nagi that gets frustrated over tomodachi life.

why won’t his mii get married with you? he has been laying in his bed for hours trying to get the two fictional characters to marrying eachother but stuck at “sweethearts” he’s actually not in the mood playing this, but addicted cause the interactions between the two of you keeps him company when you’re not here.

he tried his best, forcing the two to meet eachother every single second they turned away and hoping that they’d eventually wanna marry eachother so that he can do this. but nope, it took him hours, even days to finally get the chance, and when he did, his face turns into a frown when he failed the minigame to get them to get married. “this game is such a hassle.”

he changed positions, even playing while eating to just get this game done with. so imagine his face when he successfully married you; the greatest sigh of his life. the cutscenes played as he got a small smile at how his mii looks at yours. at this time, you were sleeping beside him so he showed the nintendo screen to you, and you chuckled at how cute it was. “aww that’s so cute.”

“i’m gonna give them a baby.” he looked at you as he said that and you nodded, “that’d be sweet, sei.” he nodded, and so he’s gonna spend atleast another day at this game despite almost deleting it when they didn’t wanna get married to one another. “oh yeah, i’m surprised you kept that game for long.” you pointed out and he shrugged. “it’s a hassle, but it’s a good game. i guess.” he mumbled and you smiled as he laid his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through it.

Ryusae Nose Kisses

Drawing I liked less included under the cut lmao

fiancé!sae who never becomes overly affectionate publicly, but always keeps a hand on you somehow. your wrist, your waist, your fingers. subtle touches that quietly remind everyone you’re his.

fiancé!sae who learns your habits without telling you. suddenly your favorite drink is already waiting for you after work, your side of the bed is warmed before you sleep, and your schedule somehow feels easier.

fiancé!sae who shows love through consistency rather than words. he may not constantly say “i love you,” but he’s always there. every single time. without fail.

fiancé!sae who softens most at night. when it’s late, quiet, and just the two of you, he becomes gentler somehow. his voice lowers, his touches linger longer, and he lets himself relax completely. 

fiancé!sae who absolutely stares at you when you’re not looking. not obviously. just quiet little glances while you’re talking, cooking, reading—like he’s memorizing every version of you he gets. 

fiancé!sae whose proposal is private. no crowd, no cameras, no giant speech. just the two of you somewhere meaningful, somewhere quiet enough that he can actually be honest without distractions.

fiancé!sae who rehearses the proposal for weeks because despite how calm he looks, he genuinely wants it to be perfect. he hates uncertainty, but with you? he’s terrified of messing it up. 

fiancé!sae who proposes late at night after a long day together. maybe after dinner, maybe during a quiet walk, but definitely during a moment where you’re relaxed and unsuspecting.

fiancé!sae who goes strangely quiet before proposing. his fingers keep brushing against the ring in his pocket while he debates the exact wording in his head for the hundredth time. 

fiancé!sae who simply looks at you and says, “i don’t want a future without you in it anymore.” and somehow that hits harder than any dramatic declaration ever could.

fiancé!sae who gets visibly nervous waiting for your answer, even if he tries hiding it. you can see it in the way his jaw tightens and how carefully he watches your face.

fiancé!sae who exhales so softly after you say yes, like he’d been holding his breath for months without realizing it. then immediately pulls you into his chest without saying another word. 

fiancé!sae who wears his engagement ring constantly. he twists it absentmindedly during interviews, training, flights—like grounding himself with the reminder that you chose him too. 

fiancé!sae who definitely wants children someday, though he doesn’t admit it immediately. at first he says something vague like, “if it happens, it happens,” while secretly imagining your future family already.

fiancé!sae who becomes quieter whenever he sees you interacting with children. something about you being gentle makes his chest ache in a way he can’t properly explain.

fiancé!sae who would want two children at most. enough for a family that feels full, but small enough that he can devote himself completely to each of them.

fiancé!sae who secretly worries about being a good father because affection doesn’t come naturally to him. he’s terrified his children won’t understand how deeply he loves them. 

fiancé!sae who plans the wedding far more seriously than expected. spreadsheets, schedules, venue research—he approaches it with the same perfectionism he applies to football because this is important to him.

fiancé!sae who pretends not to care about wedding details until you casually mention changing something he already envisioned. suddenly he has opinions. very specific opinions.

fiancé!sae who prefers elegant, intimate weddings over huge extravagant ones. candlelight, soft music, close friends, beautiful scenery—something timeless rather than overwhelming.

fiancé!sae who absolutely freezes seeing you walk down the aisle. not visibly to everyone else, but you notice it immediately. the way his eyes soften and how he forgets breathing for a second.

husband!sae who cannot stop looking at your ring finger after marriage. it genuinely distracts him sometimes because every glance reminds him that you’re really his wife now. 

husband!sae who falls asleep facing you every night, one hand resting somewhere against you without fail, like even in sleep his body searches for yours automatically.

husband!sae who doesn’t love loudly, but loves permanently. completely. in every quiet action, every careful touch, every future plan that somehow always includes you without question.

a/n : lol ts was so rushed this is so booty oml. okey instead of studying im writing this cuz im gonna fail anyways whats the point of trying✌️. also first sae post what do we thinkkk. (also that aiku anon your fic is COMINGGGG i promise bby). tysm for reading, please req stuff, and other than that there’s nothing more to add !!

𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫, 2026. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐢.

you've heard of those jokes that some people make over their child resembling their father more than their mother, despite her having to bear all the troubles that come with pregnancy. you were a little prepared for it, not that you would have been unhappy with a mini rin.

ironically, your son bears all your features, from your hair colour to the shape of your nose, and the only tangible proof that rin had any part in his creation was his teal eyes and the itoshi family's signature underlashes.

but, it seems like your son inherited more than just rin's pretty eyes.

by this, you mean his propensity to drool almost excessively and gnaw on all his toys and, well, just about anything he can get his little mouth on. you know it's likely (definitely) because he's teething, but you kind of prefer to blame it on rin so you can tease him about it.

"baby, let's not chew on that…" you gently pry your son's mouth away from the toy, little whines of protest as you inspect the little indents on it, before setting it down and lifting him onto your lap.

your son's mouth instinctively finds your shirt to gnaw on, his saliva wetting the fabric. you would be more annoyed if he wasn't so cute…

"are his teeth hurting again?" rin suddenly materialises next to you, his shadow looming over. he leans down to press a light kiss on your forehead and to take your bitey child away from your poor shirt.

you hum in reply as you watch rin use a handkerchief to wipe his drooly mouth, your son babbling in response.

"must get it from you," you tease with a lighthearted smile, rin rolling his eyes in response.

"yeah yeah," he grumbles, sitting down. your baby, having exhausted himself from all the biting he was trying to do, sleepily coos, eyes drooping while he gets comfortable in rin's arms. you stroke his chubby cheek, leaning your head on rin's shoulder as the both of you watch him drift off to dreamland.

"i love you even if you drool, rinnie."

yes :( please mind the cws. thank you for the request <3

gently

michael kaiser x fem!reader. dark, heavy angst. CONTENT WARNING! kaiser does not understand ed’s and is harsh in the beginning. this is meant to promote education and acknowledgment rather than bash those with this disorder.

michael is more… confused when he notices your change.

growing up, food was a privilege. he ate whatever, wherever, whenever, and he didn’t complain. even now that he had money, he was always sure to limit his waste.

he couldn’t understand why you were being so wasteful.

you were such a sweetheart; always checking on him, making sure he was eating and sleeping and doing well. the whole ordeal was so new and unfamiliar to him that kaiser often forgot to show you the same attention, too flustered by your kindness to do anything other than silently accept it.

but you started hiding half-eaten meals with napkins. cooking the same portions as usual, like it was a habit, but then leaving the leftovers until they spoiled. your fridge was always stocked, always full of facades and masks that wilted and found themselves in the bottom of your trash can weeks later.

when kaiser had half a mind to ask how you were doing, you always blew him off with a soft, “i’m fine!” before turning the question back on him and continuously picking apart his day until hed forgotten all about his initial concern.

it wasn’t until you and kaiser got invited to an expensive restaurant to celebrate a soccer win that kaiser realized something was truly wrong.

in the past, outings like that excited you. you’d eagerly drag him to the store, dress him up, and hold his hand the entire day as you spewed your excitement for the event.

when kaiser mentioned it this time, you balked. “a restaurant?”

he hummed, not paying much attention to anything besides the sudden, strange grey tint to your skin.

then, “… do i have to go?”

and, because kaiser could think of no other way to phrase his question, he asked, “what is wrong with you?”

your eyes bugged. lips parted, then sealed shut, trembling.

he took a step forward, apology on his tongue, but when you retreated, he stilled.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he rushed, but by the look of your unsteady gaze, he wasn’t sure if you heard a word of it. “i’m sorry. i just meant that you used to love going to these with me.”

kaiser didn’t make a move toward you as he stared and stared, patiently, anxiously, tracing the shaking lines of your frame.

after what felt like hours of tense silence, you looked up. kaiser’s heart shattered when he saw tears dripping down your flushed cheeks.

“i’m sorry,” you croaked, voice raw and words shattered, and kaiser physically couldn’t stop himself from step forward and crushing you into his chest. he held you tightly as you cried, his fingers catching against the jutting bones as he ran comforting hands over your body.

his stomach dropped, chest hollowed out. your name slipped past his lips in a whisper, and he felt you jolt against him at the unspoken accusation.

“i’m f—“ you tried to say, but the lie refused to leave your mouth as anything other than a strangled, pitiful whine.

kaiser could feel your ribs through your shirts when he pulled you closer against him.

he couldn’t remember how long it had been since you’d eaten together. the thought of you struggling alone all this time made him sick to his stomach.

“come,” he forced out, his voice gruff as he swallowed down all real emotion. “let’s eat some soup.”

your forehead brushed against him in defiance. “i’m ok—“

“just the broth, hm? i’ll cook for you. you can just sit and relax right here. just watch.”

he would have to research ways to help you without being overbearing or overwhelming you. you were too important for him to sit back and do nothing as you wasted away before him.

without meaning to, his grip around you tightened. you didn’t flinch away.

quietly, almost unable for you to hear, his breath hit your ear. “i’m sorry.”

and though you didn’t understand why he was apologizing, you let yourself sink completely into his grip. “me, too.”