“don’t Let It Bother U” Baby I’m Gonna Be Bothered By This For The Next 10 Years

heartbroken! darling . . who spends hours in her soft bed trying to get herself off — mind pacing back and forth to her ex boyfriend suna rintarou.

heartbroken! darling . . who hates herself for being reminded of how well his fingers worked her little cunt, and how well he fucked with his pretty dick.

heartbroken! darling . . who’s fussing, tossing and turning and huffing into her plush pillow until the soft of her upper arm accidently presses on the contact of her ex, ringing suna’s line.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s eyes widen when he sees your contact name pop up — still set as ‘sweet girl’ with no intent to change it. who takes a bit of time to answer, so it doesn’t seem like he cares too much.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who presses the green button with shaky fingers, parting his lips to speak before he hears a familiar meek moan.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s cock begins to stiffen at the soft, whiny moans elicited through the speaker of the phone — clearly you’ve misclicked his contact. he knows the moral thing to do would be to hang up, but . .

heartbroken! darling . . who subconsciously whines out her ex boyfriends name slurred with a soft moan, chanting the syllables over and over with occasional ‘ . . miss you . . ‘ and ‘ love you ‘s . . ‘

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who can hear your sloppy pussy over the poor speaker of the phones, and your soft rumbling in the sheets. who’s listening so intently that he starts to imagine your pussy crying out his name too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“r—rinnn . . miss y’ so much ,”

he knows — knows you’re renacting the nights where you two had to resort to phone sex, due to him being heftily busy or out of town. he’s well used to your whining and the scramble of the sheets against the phones speaker, having resorted to phone sex as a way to push off the true issue — he was never home.

“‘m sorry,” you ramble, “sorry f’being so mean . . miss y’ so much. miss your face ‘nd . . fingers and y’r cock—“ you hiccup.

you muffle your voice into your pillow, free arm wrapping under the the cushion for leverage. “rin,” you moan. “l—love you.”

your breath fastens when you feel your climax following, little thumb pressing against your sensitive clit just as suna taught you. “feels good! r—rinnn,” you cry, eyes shut tight with the vivid imagination of your now ex boyfriend behind you, helping you get off.

his sultry voice and featherlight touches transverse your thoughts, soft cries being elicited from your swollen lips and drool dirtying your pillow. you ignore the loud squelches of your pussy, or how you’re dirtying your hand and the sheets below, pumping in and out of your swollen cunt with no other desire but to cum.

you yelp, jump up in terror when you hear a loud masculine sigh and low shlicks, eyes searching the room for the source of noise. you lift your blanket with intentions to slip inside . .

revealing your phone. on an active call with your ex boyfriend named, ‘sweet boy.’ no, you hadn’t changed his contact either. the time of the call displays ‘12:38.’ a hot flash spreads throughout your body,

“r—rin?”

“y—yeah.”

“you . . you didn’t hear anything right?”

it’s so deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop.

“you really miss me that much, doll?” suna chuckles, breaking the silence with a short hum.

“no . . du—dunno what you’re talking about. i—i called on accident so ‘m gonna—“

“don’t be like that baby, don’t hang up. let me come over, yeah?”

“rin—“ you protest,

“oh? we’re not moanin’ anymore? i see . . “

“shut up, suna!” you cry out, defeated and forcibly facing the fact that you had just fucked yourself to the thought of your ex boyfriend — and he heard everything.

“c’mon. let me come over t’night and show you just how much i missed you, too. alright?”

he’s eager when you don’t protest, only a heavy huff before the line cuts off. he’s quick to messily tug up his sweats, rinse off his hand, and reach for keys.

it's always the bad ones that are attractive as hell

giving them head.

featuring: Sakura Haruka, Kaji Ren

contains: gn reader, bl*wjobs, begging, facef*cking, sub!sakura, dom!kaji

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 600

masterlist

Sakura Haruka

Sakura’s never been good at expressing himself verbally, the words somehow getting stuck at the back of his throat every time he tries. But his emotions are written on his face, easy for you to read.

As you drag your tongue up his shaft, licking along the thick vein there, your eyes locked onto Sakura’s, you can see exactly what he’s thinking. His cheeks and nose are flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his lips slightly apart. You swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and he inhales sharply, his fingers tangling messily in your hair.

“Does that feel good, Haru?” you ask teasingly, pressing a chaste kiss against the underside of his tip and feeling his cock twitch in response.

“Mhm,” is all Sakura can say, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He can’t look away from you, doesn’t want to even for a second. You lick up the precum he’s oozing and Sakura lets out a whimper, his hips thrusting up. You’re teasing him, making his cock ache with need as your tongue darts out again.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” you instruct him softly.

“Nnh, fuck,” Sakura grunts, hips bucking again, chasing your lips as you pull back slightly. “Wanna fuck your mouth. Please.”

“Like this?”

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck gently. Sakura’s eyes close briefly.

“Need more, please, please, baby,” he whimpers. “Need to cum in your mouth, please let me cum in your mouth.”

His begging makes you smile so you decide to give him what he wants.

“That’s a good boy,” you coo, feeling his cock throb against your tongue at your words as you slide him all the way in.

Kaji Ren

One of Kaji’s favourite ways to release stress is to take it out on your mouth.

You’re such a good girl for him, kneeling so obediently between his legs as his hands grip the back of your head. He pulls your hair up into a loose ponytail keeping it out of your way as he holds your head in place and fucks up into your mouth.

Your hands are splayed on his thighs and you try to keep your jaw slack as Kaji facefucks you. His fat tip hits the back of your throat but you’ve practiced this a lot and have a good control over your gag reflex. Your eyes water as you focus on breathing through your nose while Kaji abuses your mouth.

“Fuckkkk,” he groans, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of your warm mouth and your throat constricting around him. “Such a perfect little slut.”

Kaji plants his feet, readjusting slightly before fucking your mouth even harder. You try to keep up with him, your tongue running along the underside of his cock, making him growl. You drool over him, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your mascara runs down your cheeks.

Kaji opens his eyes, drinking in the sight of you.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.”

Kaji’s cock twitches, his balls tightening. He can never last long when you let him do this. He pulls out quickly, long trails of saliva joining his shaft and tip with your lips. He wraps a fist around his cock and strokes himself quickly as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him.

Kaji cums with a loud groan, watching as he shoots thick ropes of cum onto your tongue. His hips buck, the strength of his orgasm making him lose aim slightly, and you feel his hot load land across your face. You don’t flinch, enjoying the feel of Kaji marking you like this. You smile up at him before making a show of swallowing his cum.

Kaji pulls you onto his lap, a cloth at the ready to clean you up as he peppers kisses across your shoulder and whispers thank yous in your ear.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。HANDS — ITOSHI SAE.

sae doesn’t understand the purpose of holding hands. it’s a bit annoying to try and move around while you’re practically chained to someone else, it feels a bit odd to have someone’s hand lace with yours and keep it occupied, and it just draws this unwarranted attention that he doesn’t like.

he doesn’t hold hands, and you don’t seem to mind, so it’s never really been a concern of his.

not until today at least.

“are you nervous?” you ask, standing next to him as you stare out at the field. it’s a large stadium—there’s a bigger audience here than you’ve ever seen at any of the last few games you’ve been to.

it makes sense, you suppose. you’ve really only been to a handful of sae’s games—and even if you haven’t dated long, you’re well accustomed now to the occasional mic in your face as they as you how you feel about your boyfriend’s win. but now that he officially doesn’t play for a youth team anymore, now that he’s in the big shots with the adults, there’s bound to be more people, right? it makes you a bit nervous, all the eyes on you, but it doesn’t keep you from standing next to him as he waits with his team just minutes before starting the game.

sae only raises a brow at you, looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, “what do you take me for? they’re lucky to even play against me,” he mutters.

from a distance, you can hear a few amused chuckles and a few scoffs of disbelief from his older teammates. for the youngest on the team, sae has the largest presence. he’s already the talk of the hour—you can hear reporters buzzing for an interview and fans chanting his name already.

but he’s unbothered, sipping on his water bottle like it’s child’s play he’s preparing for.

“i know, baby,” you mumble, “you’ll crush them but…there’s just so many people,” you mumble. “what if you trip and fall? that’ll be so many people seeing.”

“i’m not gonna trip and fall,” he grumbles, lips twitching into a small frown that’s almost—almost—a pout, like the fact that you think he’d do something like that is an insult to his pride.

“oh my gosh,” you gasp, “i think someone just took a picture of us,” you ramble, not even paying attention to him. “what if i looked ugly?”

he wants to tell you there are a lot of people taking pictures, and that it’s a dumb thing to say—since when have you ever looked ugly? even your bad angles are better than the average person’s best, but before he can even say anything, your hand tightly grasps his.

he looks down, furrows his brows, opens his mouth to say something when you cut in.

“don’t be nervous, sae,” you babble away, “you got this, okay? there’s not even that many people here, they look like ants from down here anyway. you won’t even notice them.”

and then your hand squeezes his tightly, like it’s for reassurance, like it’s to tell him it’s okay, i’m here. except, he’s sure you’re doing it more for yourself than him—since he’s quite literally fine, quite literally standing here with as bored of an expression as always.

“i’m not nervous, idiot,” he mumbles.

and sae doesn’t like holding hands. your hands are a bit clammy and cold and they’re squeezing a bit too tight for his liking and he can’t move around as freely now. but your thumb is rubbing circles into the back of his hand and…it’s nice. for some reason, it’s kind of nice and he likes it.

he gives your hand an experimental squeeze, and when you squeeze right back, he finds that oddly enough, it’s kind of comforting to be able to communicate with you like this without actually saying words.

it’s okay. i’m here. you’ve got this. i’m not going anywhere. i’m proud of you. you’re all i need. you make me happiest. did you see that? i think that was another camera flash. i’m scared. i believe in you. it’s almost time for you to go. play your best. i love you.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

every tightening of your hand and every small squeeze tells him something that he finds he can understand for some reason—even without words. even without looking at your eyes or your face or seeing your expression. it’s so simple—so easy and…and he likes it.

why does he like it?

“good luck, baby,” you whisper, turning to face him, giving him a look that’s so nervous, yet so filled with conviction, he almost feels that to not play better than his best is of a disservice to you.

“thanks,” he murmurs, tugging you a bit closer by your hand. he finds that’s also a nice added perk of holding your hand—being able to pull your body impossibly closer whenever he wants. “but i won’t need it.”

“no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “because you’re mister itoshi-sae-the-best-ever-who-never-gets-nervous. my bad.”

he huffs a small chuckle, gives your hand a squeeze and lets out a small sigh of content when he realizes the circles you’re rubbing over his knuckles have turned into hearts.

“don’t be nervous,” he says quietly, “‘s just us. everyone else’s background noise.”

“i know, but—”

“and don’t answer any reporters till i come back, okay? don’t need you having a breakdown on national television.”

“sae!” you whine, “that doesn’t help.”

“see you after my win,” he grins ever so slightly. it’s the biggest smile any of his teammates have ever seen from him—a few of them even gape in shock, but he pays no mind. he contemplates for a small moment before he decides—brings up your laced fingers and presses a small, short kiss to the back of your hand.

“see you after your win,” you agree, giving one more squeeze to his hand.

i love you.

he squeezes back. i love you too.

and then he’s off, and he almost hesitates before he lets his hand leave your grasp while he runs onto the field. he glances back at you, sees the way your hands are clutched tightly together to your chest as you stare at him with hope in your eyes and awe in your expression.

itoshi sae has never liked holding hands—but then your hands hold out his entire universe, and how could he not change his mind?

hi everyone. pls take this very self indulgent and very me coded reader as they overthink sae’s entire game more than he even thinks about it 💀

─── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 5.3k

notes: i’m in love with this man, and wrote this on a whim :’) hope y’all like it !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3

summary: you’ve known sae since you were both sixteen. he’s always dreamed of going overseas and facing the world, will he ever be ready to come home?

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

sae can read almost everyone flawlessly, you included.

he’s not close to you, not at all. physically? yes, because you’re his seat partner. but in all other aspects? no, definitely not.

you’re scared of him, he can tell. whenever he moves, you get self-conscious, immediately pulling your own chair in, giving him way. then you check on him as he moves away, because you’re scared that somehow you’ve managed to offend him.

you never did. because to offend sae, you’d need to be someone who can even bother him in the first place.

sae doesn’t care about what you do though, he just happens to notice you. out of convenience, because he sees you every monday to friday and sits next to you for every class.

it’s the same routine thing every week—you sit next to each other, barely say a word all day and then before he knows it, it’s the end of school day.

it doesn’t even matter. you don’t matter.

nobody really does.

he peeks at you out of the corner of his eyes, your eyes peering down at your paper with the utmost concentration. he quickly looks away though, because the last thing he wants is to get caught and be labeled as a cheater on a history quiz. especially when he’s not cheating.

yeah, you really don’t matter.

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

soccer, soccer, soccer.

that’s all sae can think of nowadays. just do whatever he can to improve his skills, everything else is up for debate.

you’re still his seatmate, still ever so distant. he gives you credit though, for greeting him every morning now even though you look terrified and nervous all the time.

“good morning.”

today is no exception. sae’s eyes flick up to you and then back down to his desk, and that’s all of the acknowledgement you get, as usual. it’s nothing personal, he just doesn’t want to get into small talk at all.

but he’ll give you points for trying, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going through your head right now. somehow, he can’t read you as well anymore.

that’s how you usually are now, the newer version of you. a little more upbeat, a little friendlier, less awkward but still as shy as he first pegged you to be.

well, now you’re just slightly more amusing. somehow, sae starts to find himself wondering how you’d react to different situations.

it’s almost the middle of the school year and you’d kept up with your usual greetings everyday. sae keeps up with his usual stoic demeanour on his part.

until today.

“good morning!” you’re extra chirpy today, he notices.

sae blinks at you once, twice, and you’re still smiling at him, and he’d like to know whether you’re still that same nervous mess inside, so he opens his mouth this time.

“morning, y/n.”

simple, easy, basic courtesy.

but somehow you’re looking at him as though he’s a fucking freak.

to be fair, that’s exactly what he expected. but it’s now been a whole minute and you’re still staring dumbly at him.

“what?”

you shake your head, laughing sheepishly as you take your seat beside him, “nothing, it’s just… you never bothered talking to me before.”

sae shrugs, because it’s not like he bothers now, per se. he’s just—what’s the word—bored? “i can shut up too if you prefer that.”

“no!”

you look so embarrassed by your quick outburst that sae almost snickers. that’s the most reaction you’ve nearly managed to get out of him yet.

“i mean,” you stutter, looking for the right words to say, and maybe sae is getting a little bit of an ego boost right now because he can tell you’re flustered. “you’re pretty terrifying most of the time so…”

he knows what you mean, but he acts like he doesn’t. “oh, so you like terrifying? okay, i can do that.”

the way your face instantly switches to a straight expression is fucking amusing, and for a split second his guard falls and you get to hear him snicker.

luckily, the bell rings right after and mr hayato is never late. sae never got to hear what you thought of that.

every single day after that passes by a little bit easier, your non-friendship inching a little closer together, sae might even consider you an acquaintance now.

he converses with you a lot more fluidly (as much as he allows himself to—he doesn’t like you being too comfortable, likes to keep you on your toes), and he finds himself teaching you things he notices you’re absolutely horrible at.

like logarithms, because no matter how much you try to wrap your head around it, you refuse to ask anyone for help. you’re a little stubborn, but sae can live with that, just has to speak to you in a way that doesn’t seem like you look like you need help.

“no, you’re forgetting that the log of e is always one, there, see?” sae sighs as he explains, because you’re quite muddle-headed. “it’ll be much easier once you get all the definitions in your head.”

“were you born a genius or something?” you ask innocently upon catching his test scores. a 94 out of 100, compared to your 63.

that day, neither of you notice the fact that other people are beginning to notice your growing friendship.

sae starts tutoring you whenever he can, because apparently you’re hopeless without his help. (he says this to your face. he’s always straight with you.) and then he finds himself noticing you in ways he never did before.

how you look absolutely angelic when the sun hits your face. he notices the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re thinking hard. even the perfume that wafts through the air. you smell good.

this is ridiculous.

“hun, do you want any—”

fuck. sae’s head whips around to see an older woman at your door, almost a carbon copy of you, eyes wide as her gaze falls onto him.

no, he’s not particularly nervous or feels like he should be, but something tells you if your mother is anything like you, she’d misunderstand. this is just a lot more trouble than it’s worth. you’re a lot more trouble than it’s worth. what’s he even getting out of tutoring you?

“oh hi there! and who might you be?”

he can see stars in her eyes, all hopeful and excited as she shifts her gaze between you and sae and back to you again.

“mom! he’s no one—” ouch, he’s tutoring you and you introduce him as no one? “a friend and he’s tutoring me for some math stuff so could you…?”

it’s like the gears are turning in your mother’s head when she eyes sae knowingly. god, he has to do some damage control. don’t want either of you expecting anything much out of him.

“i’m itoshi sae,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand. “i just make time to tutor some of my classmates to earn extra credit.”

not even close to true, but neither of you need to know that. he’d much rather spend his free time getting in some training or going to the gym but he decided maybe he could spend a few hours out of today to help your dumbass with numbers.

he’s an expert at sidestepping small talk and in no time at all, your mother’s out of the room. you still seem embarrassed, he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks.

“concentrate,” sae sighs, and he wonders why he’s even doing this for you. he’d rather go home right now, he thinks, maybe kick the ball around with rin, or just lie down in bed because waking up at 4am to train every morning is taking its toll.

you mumble a hushed apology and rub the sleepiness from your eyes. the both of you had been at this for a couple of hours now, maybe looking at numbers too much is making you tired too.

sae acknowledges you’re a fast learner though, if you have a proper teacher. he’s not surprised that ms kina’s teachings are lost on you—she’s not that good at explaining concepts. sae is, though. he usually doesn’t bother sharing but hey, maybe now is just a glitch in the matrix, maybe now he’s just trying to do good samaritan things and help you out so you don’t fail the damn midterm test.

“okay then, see you,” he says, picking up his bag and slinging it around his shoulders, only to have you grab his wrist. “what?”

you look a little bashful once you realise what you did, and then you let go of him immediately. you look like you really want to say something, but you don’t, you just shake your head.

don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.

sae’s putting his bag back down before he knows it, and he groans internally. “say it.”

“if-if you don’t mind, maybe we could schedule a tutoring session every week?” you’re so, so timid and so, so soft.

he blinks once, twice, realising what you actually mean to say. you don’t want the tutoring session, apart from logarithms you’re fine with pure numbers, but you want time. with him.

it boosts his ego a little, if he’s being honest.

“i’m too busy with my soccer trainings,” he tells you, nonchalant until he sees how quick your expression falls and then he has to hate himself for continuing, “i have some time on friday evenings though.”

like a puppy, you’re instantly chirpy again, saying how maybe he could tutor you after he’s done with whatever stuff, and how you’d get a head start and grab some seats at a cafe or something.

you’re both seventeen when your weekly tutoring sessions start. it’s beyond himself why he agreed. all he knows is that he doesn’t particularly like being the reason your expression goes sad.

first week in, you’re still too nervous, too jumpy.

the second week, you’re a little too full of nonsense, daring to laugh at him, or with him, depending.

by the fifth week, your bare arm is already brushing his and you’re not even flinching.

you’re both seventeen when sae realises that maybe he cares for you. in the way lovers do. in the way he gets you to walk on the safer side of the sidewalk. in the way he sends you home every friday. in the way he actually responds to your goodnight texts and wakes up waiting for your good morning.

in the way he listens when you tell him that your mother is actually sick, that you want to take care of her. that your dream is simple—to find your passion one day, and to be able to earn enough to let your mother live peacefully, to help her fight whatever she has to because you don’t want her to be alone.

in the way, for the first time in his life, he reaches out to you, putting his hand on top of yours as he lets you cry on his shoulder.

your birthday falls on a friday this year, and he tells you not to bring your books that day in class. you look at him with pure shock, but then quickly adjust yourself and bring up a grateful smile.

“yes, sir.”

that night he meets you up on the rooftop of your complex, in the middle of the carpark, and you’ve never looked any happier than you did when you saw him holding that petite round galaxy cake in his hands, the sparkler candles so pretty in the night.

“happy birthday.”

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

the next school year starts and sae enters into it still close to you as ever. you haven’t met in just over a month, what with sae’s intense training camps and your family holiday. but the both of you still talk to each other daily, and he finds himself waiting for your response every night.

it’s like the both of you are in a relationship, but neither of you are saying anything about it. whatever this relationship-non-relationship is, sae thinks he likes it.

but it’s barely three months into the school year and sae has to break your heart.

“it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, i’m sure you understand right?” his coach rambles on, disgusting with how he’s talking with his mouth full and chips keep falling out of it.

sae nods, because he does. he’s almost sure he’ll go for it. it’s not everyday kids from japan get offered a spot to play for a european club.

“great! so let’s get your parents involved and get you to spain.”

“yeah, sure.”

it’s frustrating how he’s not more excited. it’s there, but it’s faint, because it’s lingering on the traces of his feelings for you. he’s never really thought this far, and maybe that was his fault. he’ll keep that in mind; he can’t risk this situation again. he can’t risk getting your hopes up and being the reason that they’ll never recover.

minimise damage, yeah, that’s what he has to do.

you go from talking endlessly in class to being quiet because sae is trying to concentrate. you go from meeting every friday outside of school to every other friday, to once every month, to none at all. you go from texting a good morning and a goodnight every day to barely getting responses from sae, barely ever even get your messages read.

then one day sae just doesn’t show up to school at all. and you finally hear that he’s been scouted for a club in spain, that he’s going to be away for god knows how long. and then you realise that maybe that’s why he’s been distant lately, because you refuse to believe that the sae who took so much time out of his busy schedule for you, the sae who made the effort to buy you a birthday cake and spend all night on the carpark just listening to you talk on and on about insignificant things because you were nervous, the sae who you fell in love with—you refuse to believe it wasn’t real.

that’s why you hold your hopes up and ride your bicycle to his house, which you’ve been to once before, just outside though, because you’d asked him where he lived and he finally obliged. it’s still beautiful as ever, neat garden lined with flowers and a soccer field in the back.

when you knock on the gate, you see a familiar face come out; it’s itoshi rin, his younger brother. you only know that because sae’s spoken about him a few times, and you saw a picture of the both of them together on his phone.

“oh, um, hi, who are you?” rin asks, cautiously, because evidently, he’s never seen you.

“uh, i’m one of sae’s… classmates,” you decide, and it stings that you realise you can’t even say that anymore. how did it all spiral from cloud nine? “is he home?”

rin blinks a few times. his lower lashes are slightly longer than sae’s, he’s carrying a soccer ball, and you just know he’s been training all day because he’s sweating from head to toe. sae has said rin wanted to be a striker just like him.

“oh, didn’t you hear? my big bro got scouted, he left for spain last night.”

it shouldn’t be this upsetting—he isn’t even your boyfriend. no matter how much you wanted him to be. he was just… someone you studied with, spent time with, made efforts for.

but something forms in the pit of your stomach when you hear that sae’s already gone, that he’s already halfway to spain without even saying goodbye, without giving you any warning.

you’d thought whatever friendship you had with him was worth more than a silent goodbye, than a one-sided decision.

“o-oh, okay, thanks!”

you bolt off before rin can say anything else, it’s better that no one can see you crying anyway.

that night once you’ve sort of calmed down, you open up sae’s message thread, which as of late is mostly a string of messages from you and sae only replying with oh or i see or i’m busy.

the last time he even bothered replying to you was last week when you asked if he wanted to watch a movie together and he said a simple no.

“you’re an ass, itoshi sae,” you cry to yourself as you bring up the keyboard on your phone, your tears falling onto the screen.

i hate you, itoshi sae.

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

soccer is the same; thrilling, tiring, demanding.

it’s been a year since he left japan and he’s still surviving, still thriving, still being revered as a genius midfielder. sae knows he has what it takes to bring victory to a good enough team, that’s what he came here for anyway—to be the best in the world.

“good job out there, sae,” the captain claps him on the back, but sae’s mind isn’t there.

it’s been a year since he left japan and he still pulls up the last message you ever sent him.

i hate you, itoshi sae.

perhaps it’s good that you do. there’s no place for your dreams in spain, or anywhere else in the world except for japan. you need to move on from him. maybe you already did, from what he hears from his classmates who still check in on him from time to time.

the first time sae hears about how some other guy asked you out, he can’t say he doesn’t care. but he’s relinquished his right to be jealous, so he barely responds to the news.

but maybe he’s beginning to see where he fucked up, because he shouldn’t have gotten close to you in the first place, should’ve just left you alone.

instead now he’s left with this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. is this how it feels like to really miss someone?

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘

you’re now in college and you’re past whatever happened in high school. itoshi sae still lingers in the crevices of your mind, with his teal eyes and his pretty lashes and the way his hand felt when they were on top of yours.

some part of you thinks you’d never get over him, but you have to make peace with that. just because he never bothered to give you closure doesn’t mean he should be allowed to ruin your life.

besides, you’re pretty sure he read what you last sent him. there’s really nothing else for you to do if he doesn’t even bother talking to you.

you’d been trying to properly move on anyway, and that’s exactly what you try to do later that night, after accepting ryusei shido’s invitation to dinner.

he’s like the opposite of sae, though. he’s all expressive and goofy and wild because he’s got you trespassing on private property just to borrow their garden and he likes to drive fast, really fast, because he loves the wind in his hair.

if you had met him first, you’d probably be in love with the rush he gives you, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. when he kissed you, if only you didn’t have itoshi sae in your head, then maybe you’d have kissed him back.

when you’re twenty, you find out that maybe you can’t move on without giving itoshi sae a piece of your mind.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

sae’s career has been rapidly progressing, he’s part of the starting team and is hailed as one of the world’s up-and-coming top soccer stars.

the earlier game cemented it.

his team won, with the commentators naming him as the most valuable player, assisting in all the goals scored by his team.

when he’s pulled aside for an interview, he can’t help but wonder whether you’d be watching through the television, hanging on his every word. or maybe you’d already moved on with this shido guy he hears about.

fuck that shido guy.

and when an interviewer asks whether there’s anyone special in his life that motivates him, he finds himself wishing he could say your name.

“nothing of that sort.”

interviews pass by quickly, as they always do for him because he’s not much of an interview guy, with his stoic expressions and lacklustre responses. he’s on the way back to the locker room when he hears a familiar voice calling out to him.

“sae!”

he spins around to find his mother and father there, surprising him. they must’ve heard he was playing and booked a flight out. rin’s not here though.

“rin’s busy with some soccer matches of his own back at home,” his father explains, as if he read his mind. “he couldn’t make it, but he’s surely watching the match from home.”

how silly of sae to have wished that it was you calling out to him, for that split second. you’re still in his head, and that’s annoying.

“oh! sweetheart,” his mother coos after she’s done gushing over his game, “we ran into one of your friends earlier! what’s her name—ah wait there she is!”

sae furrows his brows, following his mother’s gaze and finds you there, hugging the walls, sheepishly waving your hand at him. he’s starting to doubt his vision, maybe you’re just his imagination, maybe his mother’s looking at someone else.

“hey, sae,” you greet him, mellow and polite.

he’s still standing there like he’s the one who’s starstruck, like you’re the famous one. are you really here?

“what are you doing here?”

not the best greeting, but that’s the most he can muster when he hasn’t seen or heard from you in over three years.

you smile, and he thinks he might melt, but he doesn’t because he’s just told—lied to—the world that there’s no one special to him.

“what’s wrong with supporting one of my friends?” you say, as though this is a neighbourhood soccer match and you didn’t have to fly halfway across the world for it.

“itoshi! get in here!” by the sound of his voice, it’s the captain talking. sae doesn’t even want to take his eyes off of you, but he has to.

“go,” you tell him, “i’m staying near the airport, if, uh, you wanted to do anything afterwards.”

does he?

sae swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “yeah, okay.”

that night, he figures out which hotel you’re staying at and pays you a visit—it annoys him how fast his heart is beating and how your sudden presence threatens to mess up his life.

he knocks on your door, and you open it, beaming at him when you see him. “i thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” you say as you let him in, closing the door behind him.

“i was just passing by, sent my parents to the airport and thought i would just drop by,” he answers, lying through his teeth. his parents are still somewhere in spain and he just wanted to see you sooner, that’s all.

“well, i’m still getting ready,” you tell him, straightening your dress and looking at yourself in the mirror.

how is it possible you keep getting prettier everyday? your hair’s a little longer now, and you look more mature, you’ve learned to do makeup, and your dress hugs your body in just the right places. he’s cursing himself for staring at you.

“i thought you’d be too busy to come out with me tonight, honestly,” you confess, putting on some lipstick.

sae has to look away, “and i thought you hated me.”

that has you stopping in your tracks; this conversation happened earlier than you expected, but you’d been gunning for this all the same.

“yeah, well you left japan without saying a word to me, like i was just anyone else.”

he understands why you’d think that. that was what he was going for anyway, and it reminds him what he should be doing instead of entertaining you right now. sae should be rejecting you, you and your efforts, should turn away from you like you’re another one of his fangirls.

“why?”

but the shakiness in your voice takes him off guard.

“why what?”

“why didn’t you say anything?”

“i didn’t have to,” sae responds, simply, like he doesn’t owe you a damn thing.

“was i imagining it?” you ask, finally turning around and looking him in his eyes.

no, no you weren’t.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“then why are you here, sae?” you burst out, and he stills in his position, feet glued to the floor. “you wouldn’t give a second thought to people you don’t care about, so what now?”

“i was just taking an old friend out to dinner, that’s all.”

he’s stubborn, so so stubborn. he’s hoping he’ll hold out.

“i don’t get you,” you mutter softly, to yourself or to him, he doesn’t even fucking know.

sae really shouldn’t, but he thinks about how he might never see you again and tries, “what do you want?”

“what are you talking about?”

“do you know what you want?” sae turns it around on you. “you flew halfway across the world to get here, for what? for me?”

he’s intimidating when he speaks a little louder than usual, and you shrink back just slightly.

“i-i wanted to talk to you,” you try your hardest to form an excuse but it’s not working.

“and what did you want out of that?”

you fall flat, and you feel like giving up. you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it. you don’t want to tell him that you wanted him to want you too, you don’t want to admit that you’ve been thinking about him nearly all the time and what could’ve been.

“just forget it,” you relent, averting your gaze, but the next moment you feel an unfamiliar sensation on your lips, the taste of his on yours.

sae doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but his body moves on its own; something he got from playing that manages to bleed into his daily life, apparently.

you taste so much better than he expected, and you feel like you belong in his arms, like you’re made for him because there’s absolutely no one else in the whole fucking world who could ever bring itoshi sae to his knees.

he’s been in denial all this time, yes, and he’s tired of it. if you came all the way here, he’s not wasting it. he pulls away from you, absolutely dazed by the wanting look in your eyes.

you’re twenty one years old when you first hear itoshi sae telling you he loves you.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎

“someone’s chirpy,” your mother says from the couch, looking up from her ipad. “i sense… a date with sae.”

you roll your eyes, throwing one of the cushions at her. “mom, shut up,” you groan, still embarrassed whenever she calls you out for it.

sae’s still in spain most of the time, but the both of you make it work. you make a point to video call at least twice a week, and he responds to you like a normal boyfriend does. it’s back to that good morning, goodnight love you shared back in high school. he makes as much time as he can, and you appreciate him for it.

“i’m glad you’re happy, sweetie,” she tells you, and you smile gratefully.

you’re more than relieved now that she’s managed to fight the cancer off. it’s the only reason she pushed you to go see sae last year. you technically wouldn’t have done it without her.

a knock on your door signals that he’s here, and your mom gives you a knowing look before she excuses herself to her room.

when you open the front door, you feel a burst of excitement when you see sae there holding a bouquet of flowers.

“happy birthday, pretty.”

even when he’s busy, even when he’s swamped, he’ll never stop making you feel like you’re on top of the world.

both of you are twenty-two when sae decides that you’re his world.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

this is the year you find out long distance is actually really really hard.

sometimes sae loses the match, and sometimes he can’t separate friend from foe from you. he gets frustrated, and so you do too. he has less than kind words when he’s venting, and you happen to be on the receiving end.

sometimes you get stressed from your finals projects, and you push him away, and sae leaves you to it. sae doesn’t check up on you as much as you’d like to, and you’re a little too stubborn to tell him that you mind.

sometimes sae would get interviewed and would have to address dating rumours, whether it’s the upcoming supermodel from america or that renowned sexy sports photographer from brazil—it’s hard not to get jealous, especially when you’re kept private.

you can’t blame him for that, not when everyone likes to send hate to the pretty girl he’s supposedly dating.

this is also where you find out that itoshi sae knows you better than anyone. it’s where he always leaves you a reminder he loves you, even when you’re fighting. it’s where he sends you a goodnight text even when you’ve hung up the phone hours ago in anger. it’s where he keeps japan in his weather app just so he can tell you not to be a klutz and fall down when it’s raining. it’s where he declares on international television that no, he’s not available but that’s none of their business.

even if you yearn for him to be next to you at times, sae’s off doing what he’s always wanted to do, and you’re not going to let yourself be a burden—so you do what you want to do, because the last thing you want the headlines to blast is the fact that itoshi sae’s girlfriend is a good-for-nothing.

twenty-three is the age where you start writing articles for a local magazine company, where you take lead on fashion articles while occasionally helping with the sports section.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

both of your careers are in full flight.

so is your relationship.

sae’s always proud of you, of your achievements, of your efforts even if they didn’t bear fruit. you’re doing so well, making yourself a name in Japan with your articles, with your wonderful insights and funny wit.

he always reads your articles, tells his assistant to get a subscription on the magazine and send it to sae’s hotel, always reads the articles you write. he doesn’t tell you about that though. doesn’t want you getting a big head.

and every time you talk on the phone about your articles and how hard it was to write or how you’re afraid people will take it the wrong way, he acts like he doesn’t even know which article you’re talking about. (he absolutely does.)

“hey, when’s my contract ending again?”

sae’s assistant looks up from his ipad from his seat across him on the private jet. he blinks twice before rifling through his different folders.

“oh, next year.”

a ghost of a smile appears on sae’s face and his assistant thinks he’s hallucinating.

“good.”

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

sae is twenty-five years old when he finally decides he’s ready to come home.

it makes the headlines—how he quit the club and refused to play for them anymore, the reason being that he wants to go back to his roots.

back to you.

because now, at your front door, after he knocks once, twice, and you open it, surprised, sae’s never been more sure that he’s making the right decision.

after all, you’re the only one in the world capable of bringing itoshi sae to his knee.

“will you marry me?”

+ request. Hi, i downloaded tumblr only a few days ago so idk if this is how you make requests or even if you are taking them. But if you are, could you write a size kink kuroo with his virgin gf🥺

+ author n. you did it right no worries:)

+ genre. smut

kuroo was trying- he really was. his fingers were practically shredding the bed-sheets as he sat watching you struggle to lower yourself on him. 

Keep reading

these men could destroy my life and i would say thank you

itoshi sae does not exaggerate. he finds the whole idea of making a big deal out of nothing to be repulsive.

still, he swears that he feels physically ill whenever you’re not around.

(it’s the first reason of many he’ll ever give you when you tell him you have to leave for more than a day.)

“my head hurts.”

you don’t even look at him.

he frowns, “my head hurts a lot.”

“that’s too bad,” you say absentmindedly, “you should take some medicine for that.”

“i already did.” (he did not.) “it didn’t do anything.” (because he doesn’t need it.)

his frowns deepens when he notices you’re still focused on packing your things in a duffel bag. (his duffel bag. the one he was sure he’d hidden from you. the one you weren’t supposed to find.)

he calls out your name. his expression softens when you look at him.

“my stomach hurts.”

his lips quirk up just a tiny bit when you give him an annoyed look.

“sae.”

“my stomach really hurts.” he whines, slumping against the bed. a smile spreads through his lips when you cross your arms.

“you should take some medicine for that,” you frown, “even if you are sick, i have to go to this field trip.”

he takes out one of your shirts from the duffel bag, “says who?”

“my teacher.” you pry it off his hands, “my grade.”

you stick your tongue out at him, stuffing your shirt back into the bag, “my conscience.”

“but you’ll be gone for too long,” he sighs dramatically.

“it’s literally just two days.” you deadpan.

“like i said,” he pouts, “too long.”

you sigh, moving to sit down on the bed, “i’ll bring you a souvenir.”

a smile tugs at your lips when he perks up. you reach out to run your hand through his hair.

sae leans into your touch, “i’d rather have you stay than have a stupid souvenir.”

you hum, “wanna know a secret?”

he nods, curiosity swimming in his eyes. a small smile blooms on his lips.

“i kinda really don’t wanna go.” you mumble.

“just stay, then.” he tugs you closer to him.

you sigh, slumping against him. “i can’t. it’s worth a chunk of my grade.”

sae frowns, flicking your forehead, “just say you had a family emergency.”

“i said that last time.” you click your tongue. “i don’t think my teacher would believe that again.”

an amused laugh leaves his lips. “say you’re sick, then.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you tease, “besides i may or may not have already told my teacher i’d go.”

sae sits up, a look of disbelief on his face, “you what?”

“i already said i’d go,” you sheepishly smile at him.

sae flops back onto the bed, brows furrowed and pouting, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“you would’ve insisted you were sick to stop me from going,” you lean over him. “like you were doing a while ago.”

he looks away from you, flushing. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you smile, poking his nose, “i’m sure you don’t.”

he bites back a smile when you press a quick peck on his cheek.

“but if you were feeling sick, i know you’d go take some medicine instead of exaggerating just to get me to stay.”

he pouts. your smile widens. he tugs you down towards him, “you suck.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” you laugh.

you lay on his chest for a while, sae’s arms snug around you. he rests his cheek on top of your head.

“do you really have to go?”

“‘m afraid so,” you sigh, nuzzling into him. “i promise i’ll text you whenever i can.”

“you better,” he smiles, “you also have to call me.”

“i promise i will.” you laugh.

you squeak when he squeezes you, laughter leaving his lips.

“sae.” you mumble.

“yeah?”

you lift yourself off his chest, looking at him. “i have to finish packing.”

he groans, “finish later. you should nap with me instead.”

you playfully stick your tongue out at him. “you and i both know if i take a nap with you i’m never going to finish packing.”

he shrugs, sighing, “it was worth a shot.”

you sit up, brows raising in surprise when sae sits up after you.

“just because i’m not gonna nap doesn’t mean you can’t,” you tilt your head to the side.

sae stretches his arms up, yawning, “if i help you pack, you’ll take a nap with me sooner.”

he gingerly cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss. he hums against your lips.

“besides,” he pulls away, smiling, “if i help you pack, you’ll have to bring me back a souvenir as a reward.”

you laugh, “if you say so.”

sae’s not much help with packing. he just unceremoniously stuffs your remaining clothes into the duffel bag, scoffing when you tell him he’s doing it wrong.

(still, you bring him back a souvenir when you come home from your trip. as a way to both thank him for helping you pack, and as an apology because you’ll have to go on another trip soon.)

haikyuu boys while doing ‘it’

warnings: NSFW

note: spicy headcanon ahead. happy sinning SKHDHDHDHS 💀✨✨ there will be part 2 swear jdhdhd ✨✨

terushima — edges you till you’re crying out. will probably stop midway just to let you know how deep he is. that type of jerk that will let you answer an incoming call from your phone while he’s doing ‘it’ and forces you to hold a smooth conversation while he pounces on you mercilessly. his tongue piercing will come in handy especially when he’s in a mood of eating you down there.

oikawa — does ‘it’ in front of the mirror. degrades you while he does the deed. a daredevil— would be doing it everywhere he pleases. he’ll overstimulate you.

ushijima — grabs you by the jaw to look at your eyes intently and drags a low “you belong to me”

asahi — worships your body. likes to get his hair pulled.

kageyama — wouldn’t know he’s being rough but you don’t mind at all. good with his hands. into ice play but he has his own thing. ice into milk cube and will wait for it to melt and he will slowly lick it out 👅 🦋

tendou — is really good with his hands. slides one lithe finger after the another. car sex. makes fun of you. would probably laugh when you’re close to tears. his tongue is long doee… so expect cumming with just the use of his sinful tongue ;))))

daichi — he’s a dom, period. moans in your ear while pounding his hips onto the crook of your ass. slaps your ass cause he can. is that motherfucker that will go gentle and all smiley in public and then one moment you’ll hear him whisper down your ear, “I can’t wait for u to call me daddy..” 😏

yamaguchi — he’s a total softie and would constantly ask you every now and then if you’re okay. he’s into pleasuring you more than pleasuring himself. he will intertwine his hands with you cause he’s a softie. leaves small kisses on your temple while he goes in and out. might be kissing your tears away when he goes into you and taking you by surprise. 

bokuto — has a praise kink. would go faster if you call him a good boy or when you compliment him. master at aftercare. feels cocky when he sees you unable to walk the next morning. eats it like it’s the only thing existing. goes rough when you ask him to slow down. 

lev — ceo of picking you up so he can go into you further. awkward at first but will get the hang of it. asks you if you’re comfortable or is the current position okay? compliments at how flexible you are. 

kenma — lets you go under his gaming desk to do your thing while he go on stream. moans in your ear. might be into cat ears and leash.