For now I only write for knb and bllk for now and perhaps some characters of my liking from other animes or series (in the future I'll widen my horizons). Send in requests and I'll do my best!
I love to write, specifically poetry in prose and, just for now, short stories, so if you'd like I am more than happy to share my personal writing with all of you.
Rules...
I write both sfw and nsfw
I won't write any form of incest, a/b/o and pedophilia
When writing your request, I suggest you specify the gender of reader otherwise I'll write for f!reader
(P.S. I'm most comfortable writing for f!reader, it just seems more natural because it is what I am; nonetheless I try my best writing for all genders)
Masterlist
Blue lock:
- Shidou childhood headcanons
→ [egoist bible for references]
- An unexpected beginning [Itoshi Sae x reader]
- An analysis of 'Pink Spider' by Hide and its resonation to Shidou
- Date Headcanons [feat. Shidou Ryusei]
- Knb x Bllk Crossover: Which basketball teams would the Blue Lock boys be a part of?
Kuroko no basket:
- Weaving the web [Hanamiya Makoto x reader]
- Knb x Bllk Crossover: Which basketball teams would the Blue Lock boys be a part of?
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: General
Word Count: 2.300
Genre: Slice of Life | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Romance
Summary: When your past catches up to you, Nash is there to hold you.
Notes: I know it's been hella long time since I last posted anything and for that I apologise. Everything has been piling up so much that I really needed to write something out.
Stretching your legs, you turn in your bed when the first breeze of wind startles you. A chill runs down your spine, goosebumps on your arms before you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself. Something is missing, but you don’t know exactly what.
Opening one eye, you narrow your eyebrows, expecting the sun only to be met with nothing. A whine escapes your lips as you turn, hating the fact you woke up much earlier than intended. You’re expecting something, a warmth on the other side of the bed, but there’s nothing. It’s cold and empty and it makes you open your eyes to look around.
There’s no sign of anyone but you being here. There’s silence and neither your dog is found anywhere. You whistle for Spot, expecting him to come running into the bedroom and jump on your bed, but you’re waiting for nothing.
You wait a minute, two, before you decide to look for your dog. Standing up, you unconsciously stretch your arms as you slip into the slippers and leave the bedroom.
“Spot?” you call quietly, looking around the living room.
You expect him to be lying on the couch, like he usually does, but he's not there. Narrowing your eyebrows, you walk towards the kitchen, expecting Nash, but he's not there either. Closing your eyes, you take in a shaky breath, leaning on the doorway of the living room when you hear a whistle. It's followed by a bark and you realise it's coming from the outside.
Walking towards the door that leads onto the terrace, you open and the first thing you see coming from the forest is Spot. He's looking behind, but like he's sensing you, he turns his head in front and paces up until he almost sends you to the floor. You laugh and rub his head and torso when he leans deeper into your touch.
“Did we wake you up?” Nash's voice makes you look at him.
You shake your head, smiling. “Just woke up, actually.”
Nash approaches you and he leans down, kissing you directly on the lips. You're still not used to the affection he's suddenly showering you with, but it feels nice. Spot decides it's a brilliant idea to run past you inside, which makes you stumble.
“Spot.” Nash calls in a warning tone, sending him a rather playful glare.
Looking at your dog, you see his ears deflate and head low as he stares at you both. You're shaking your head, more amused at how close they've already become. Despite knowing Spot has always been fond of people he knows, he definitely wasn’t kind to strangers and it took him time to warm up to someone.
"Wanna grab a bite at the diner?" Nash wraps an arm around you before he kisses you on the lips.
A smile spreads across your lips as you nod. "Sounds perfect…" you murmur.
You hear Spot barking from inside, but you don't mind. You let Nash lead you inside. He sits you down in the kitchen and you watch him walk towards the stove when the smell of coffee hits you. Your heart skips a beat when you realise that he made some for you before he left with Spot.
You’re sitting outside the diner, with Spot by your feet. Looking around, you notice a couple of people you got to know in the time you live here. They smile at you, greeting that you return without hesitation before their eyes fall on Nash. You can see the recognition in their gaze that only proves your assumption when they begin to talk to each other.
Turning to Nash, you’re about to tell him, but he’s already looking at you. He raises an eyebrow, like he wonders what you’ll say, only for you to remain quiet instead. You feel your cheeks burn at the intensity that makes you avoid his gaze, feeling your voice being caught in your throat.
Reaching for your cup, you take a sip, finding more interest in anything else but the man sitting in front of you.
Nash chuckles as he says; “What’s gotten you so silent now?” in a teasing manner. “Cat got your tongue?”
You send him a glare, but remain quiet. You play with your fingers, glancing at Spot, who remains lying. He turns his head occasionally, but remains by your side. And then you spot it. A child, no older than five years, is running towards your table, or more precisely, to Nash with a wide smile that could rival anyone’s.
“Hi!” he greets, his eyes shining brightly as he stares up at Nash.
A smile on his lips and Nash is greeting the boy back, who asks him for an autograph while his small hands hold onto a notebook and a pen. You watch in slight amusement at how smitten he looks for the boy and suddenly you wonder how your children would look.
Shaking your head, Nash catches your gaze like he knows what you’re thinking about. You feel your cheeks heat up and turn to look at the boy, who’s running back to his mother, jumping from joy as he shows what Nash signed. You smile softly, knowing the boy will cherish it for a long time.
And as much as you wish to have a child, you're reminded of all those days and times you spent awake late at night, wondering why men keep on ghosting you. When you went on a hike and a few teens made fun of you for not being a size 4 just because you weren’t in form. How you were never even a chance when you were out with friends and men were hitting on them, making you feel like an outcast instead.
You startle when Nash reaches for your hand. His gaze is filled with worry and it makes you wonder when he’ll get sick of you. When will he stop coming? When will he stop texting you?
“You okay?” he asks.
You’re not sure what expression you’re making, but it’s obvious Nash doesn’t buy your excuse: “I’m fine,” for a second.
But he doesn’t pry.
And it makes you wonder just how much he truly likes you.
The drive back to the cabin is rather quiet. Nash tries to talk to you, but your short replies soon make him give up. He holds your hand while driving, yet it doesn’t seem like it bothers him too much. The silence, that is.
You nibble on your lower lip, your thoughts loud.
You’re not sure when you arrive back to the cabin; not until Nash is looking at you. He might have said something, you’re not sure, so you wait for him to repeat it. Except that he doesn’t. He remains quiet, his eyes looking straight into yours until you’re the first to avoid his gaze.
“Don’t avoid me.” He’s the first to break the silence.
Turning his way once again, Nash narrows his eyebrows. He knows something is wrong.
He reaches out for your hand that rests on your thighs, giving it a small squeeze. “Don’t push me away.” His voice is quieter and filled with … sadness.
“You should go home.”
It’s not what you wanted to say. You don’t want him to leave, not even for a minute, and the words you’ve just spoken surprised him as well–not just you–, because his eyes are wide. You want to take those words back, but your body isn’t listening to you.
“Are you crazy?” he snorts, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “No way am I leaving you. Not now.”
Releasing you, he steps out of the car and you feel tears brim in your eyes. You watch him go around the car until he’s pulling you out of your seat. He cups your face and wipes away the tears with his thumbs before he kisses your forehead. Feeling powerless, you let him walk you back into the cabin, Spot already a few steps ahead, until he sits you down on the terrace.
At this point, you try to hide your sadness even more, but Nash has none of it, because the minute he is gone, he’s already back with your favourite blanket, despite the warm and sunny weather, and chocolate milk you have stored in the refrigerator. Your chest tightens at how easily he can read you.
You feel your eyes tear up and for a split second he panics. He’s unsure what to do and a part of you expects him to turn and leave, yet just like a moment before, he proves you wrong. He sits beside you and wraps his arms around you.
“I don’t know what got into this pretty head of yours, but the last thing I’ll do is to leave you alone.”
“You will eventually…” you murmur more to yourself.
It’s like time has frozen. Nash stills completely as you bite your lower lip. You refuse to look at him, but he holds your chin and forces you to turn your head. Your eyes meet his and there’s something in his gaze, you haven’t seen yet; sadness.
“Princess,” he whisper-calls and you melt at his nickname; “I promise you, I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me, so please … talk to me…” he pleads.
Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath before you slowly let it out.
“I never got along with my family…” You start quietly and Nash reaches for your hands instead, squeezing them in his. “There was also this boy,” a small smile spreads across your lips at his memory; “that I loved. Perhaps there are still some feelings lingering deep down in my heart, aching for his touch and his brightness that I adored.”
Nash remains silent. You open your eyes and avert them towards Spot, who’s lying by your feet, sleeping.
“Maybe I should have seen all those ‘red flags’ everyone was speaking of, yet I remained blind to them, because I cared for him too much. I loved him to the point I was prepared to leave everything in that same moment if he called and said he needed me.” Letting out a shaky breath, you lower your gaze at your hands. He’s caressing them and you feel your chest tighten, because no one has ever done that before.
“We only ever talked when it was convenient for him and did the things he liked.”
You feel like a concrete wall around your heart is beginning to crack open the longer Nash remains silent, giving you nothing but to be there and hold you, even if only your hands.
“He never listened. Whenever I wanted to go to a cinema, to watch a certain movie, he didn’t like it. When I sent him a song I loved, he said there could never be a more stupid band instead.” you close your eyes, letting out a small breath you unknowingly held. “Yet at the same time, it wasn’t all that bad. He was there when I felt bad about myself. He made my days less bearable, surprised me so many times I couldn’t help but love him, forget all the bad things, because that’s normal in a relationship, no?”
Expecting no answer, you stare at your hands.
“Which is why I’m afraid of love. I’m afraid I’ll fall so deeply that the moment they leave, I won’t be able to breathe.” You feel your eyes tearing up the more you remember those days. How many hours you spent waiting on his message, reply, only to receive what you already expected; a simple “no”.
“I won’t say I’m like that, ‘cause that would be a lie.” Nash speaks after a moment. He’s still holding your hands and you can feel his eyes on you, but you’re too afraid to look at him. “I have games in other countries–”
“It’s not that.” you overtake him immediately. A tear slips down and you laugh. “I know all of that and I’m glad, happy you can do what you love, but after so many times of hearing “no”, “I don’t have time”, “I’m tired”, “I want something else than a drink” and all that constantly, over and over again, I don’t feel loved.” You look at him, unable to hold it back anymore as more tears stream down. “Every time I wanted to do something, just a goddamn drink, a simple drink, I was met with no. With two guys, two. I’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me and when I want to spend some time with you, I’d be met with the same word; “no” without giving a different time or date. I need reassurance that we’re okay, that you still like me, that I won’t have to go months without seeing you and expect...everything...”
Voice cracking towards the end, you bite your lower lip and look away.
“I-I thought I'll be fine after it happened once, but I guess I love to torment myself. A-and it's okay if it-it's not at that time, any-any other time is okay, as l-long as you agree to a simple drink...”
“[Name]...” Nash calls your name softly. “I'll stay.”
And just like that, an invisible dam that was holding back your emotions broke. In a second Nash holds you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You hold onto his shirt like you're holding onto your own life. He's caressing your back, rocking you back and forward softly. You feel embarrassed for being so vulnerable in front of him, but after telling him all of that, you knew it was only a matter of time before you broke down.
Nash presses a kiss on the side of your head. “I'm not leaving you.” His voice is soft, yet at the same time sounds final.
Since I'm slowly writing that unfinished knb fiction, I needed to come up with ideas for future professions for everyone involved, since the story goes into the university territory. Big thanks to @evelhak for enlightening knb talks that do keep me going. :)
Earlier this year I had a little conversation with @ravenna222 regarding timeskip, and how would I see guys and girls in the future. And I decided that I kinda wouldn't want them to play basketball professionally.
First of all, it's unrealistic. Out of all of them, including GOM, I'd say Aomine, Kagami, Midorima and Murakasakibara do actually have a shot at pro basketball. Secondly, it'll just be boring.
What I would love to see is them trying to juggle their daily life with their passion - basketball. And here I started to thinking on what type of jobs would guys have based on my own perception of them and their skills/hobbies/best subjects/commitees.
So far the thoughts are as following (most likely subject to change):
Akashi - student council//all subjects//horse riding. Given his vision and approach to things I'd see him as an architect. Also to have his own way, and not just be in the shade of his father, whom I think he'll distance from as the time goes on.
Midorima - physical education//biology/chemistry//chess/astrology. I do see him as a doctor tbh. He's calm, smart, and does want to help people without expecting them to be thankful.
Aomine - no council/japanese history if he's 'really forced to pick any'//reading gravure idols mags/catching insects. Never vibed with the idea of Policeman Aomine. Police means rules, and he's not quite compatible with those. Still, I do think Daiki generally wants to do good but his own way. So I thought that being a lifeguard would suit him. You can chill around, help when needed, and check the cute ladies in swimsuits :D
Murasakibara - health committee//physics//shooting gallery and goldfish scooping/looking for sweats. Mukkun liking physics is kinda adorable. Still, given his laid back nature, and love for sweets, I do agree that he would do well as some pastry chef. He also seem to have steady hands which would help with cake decorations.
Haizaki - no council//physical education//test cheating/hanging around the city, chatting with girls. Beloved haizadick is hard. My first pick would be a stylist/hairdresser simply because he had the most dramatic hair change out of all of them, and seems social enough with ladies. Other option is to utilize his love for being mobile, and him being well acquianted to be in danger. Which would result in him doing some elevated works at big heights. Do like the idea of combining these two tbh. One main job, and other as a side gig for extra money.
Kuroko - library//Japanese literature//magic tricks/reading/handicrafts. Again, don't really see Kuroko doing well as kindergarten teacher. He'd lack the strictness that is sometimes needed plus I think that it will drain him emotionally and physically. I do see him working as an archivist. Would be more in his element.
Kise - none//English conversation//karaoke/mineral water tasting (lol) Everyone's favorite nosiy blonde. Again, don't really see him as a pilot, sitting for a long time in one place. Plus, a bit too dumb for that. I would see him continuing his current model career and venture forth into being an actor. His ability to instantly copy would prove handy.
Momoi - health//world history//collecting bath powders. I think that Momoi's skill to obtain and analyze data would make her a great journalist, especially investigative.
Nijimura - physical education//math//table tennis and karate. Given his stolen bike story, I feel like he might have an interest in the way machinery work, so I'd see him in mechanical engineering.
Kagami - none//english conversation, if forced to pick//surfing and cooking. I think he could be either a cook in some street food establishment, or keep his firefighter profession.
Teppei - none//world history//harmonica, hanafuda. I kinda see him as a teacher. He's gentle yet firm, and has a way of swaying people to his cause.
Mibuchi - health//japanese and chinese literature//making sweets, reading tarot. With Reo's refined taste he'd be a great designer, either clothes or graphic.
Hayama - physical education//world history//skateboarding, horizontal bars. I see him doing something that requires strength, agility and observation. Blacksmith, carpenter or maybe even construction work.
Nebuya - none//japanese history//sumo. Butcher. Receiving a meat carcass and then processing requires a lot of strength. Plus he loves meat.
Hanamiya - disciplinary committee (lol)//chemistry//playing darts, reading. Hanamiya's smart, a manipularor, and has flexible morals which would make him a pretty successful lawyer. :D
Himuro - student council//math//billiard, juggling. Himuro's ability to repeatedly do things till their perfect, plus a hint of elegance, makes me see him as a jeweller, or landscape designer.
Riko - student council//English conversation//puzzles, knitting. Maybe it's because of her seeing others as a set of numbers but I think she'd be an accountant or CFO. Smart, good at planning, and she was the one caring for family's finances more than once.
Izuki - disciplinary commettee (I'd love to see Izuki and Hanamiya in one meeting of said council, lol)//math//making puns. I feel like he's self-sufficient enough to be a scientist, studing some obsure math problem, while making puns in the process. :D
Takao - health//English grammar//trading cards, doing backflips. Don't vibe with nurse Takao but him being an ER clicks. He has a good situational awareness, plus field of view, allowing him to make fast decisions upon arriving at the emergency call.
Miyaji Kiyoshi - disciplinary committee//math//idols. Sound engineer, or just generally concert venue manager. Would allow him to boss his favorite idols around :D
Kimura - none//biology//wrestling. He'd most likely be helping with family business but I somehow see him as a zookeeper, given his strength and knowledge on fruits/veggies.
Otsbubo - library//physics//cleaning, knitting. Meteorologist. He'd be able to use his brain, go outside, and still just chill with book and yarn, analyzing the data.
Kasamatsu - disciplinary committee (duh)//math//music, guitar. Law enforcer. Either in the army or a policeman. Can be in charge of venue security as a side job later on.
Moriyama - none//math//futsal, palm reading. He'd do science in the cosmetology line so that he can always have a topic for a talk with a lady. :D
Imayoshi - student council//math//fishing, horse races. A manager position, giving his master manipulator skills, a businessman or also a lawyer.
Sakurai - physical education//art//drawing manga. With his art passion he'll go for mangaka or animator.
Wakamatsu - disciplinary//geography//cycling. Do also see him in some law enforcement agency, policeman, most likely.
Miyaji Yuuya (headcanons) - broadcasting//geometry//playing video games. IT tech or pro gamer Yuuya occupied my brain for no real reason :D
Blue lock ask what would change if sae joined blue lock with rin
Honestly nothing. With how terrible their relationship is nothing would have changed between them. Football-wise, from the get go Sae wouldn't have joined, and even if he did, he's not the kind of player Ego is looking for.
So to answer your question: nothing because he wouldn't have joined.
Could you do headcanons for Hanamiya and Imayoshi with a tall s/o as well! I'm not sure if you write for them though. They're my knb favs and not enough people write about them 😭
Heeeeyyyy <333 as usual I'm kinda late on this so sorry!! ☹️ but yeah, I hope you still want these hcs! as I said before, I don't write for Hanamiya so this is gonna be just Imayoshi which I'm so excited for because he's my favourite sneaky boy 💕
TALL AND GORGEOUS // Imayoshi Shouichi edition
Context: what I imagine Imayoshi to be like with his tall significant other!
Warnings: none, just made Imayoshi pretty nice sometimes, hope it's not too ooc lmao
IMAYOSHI SHOUICHI...
Noticed you the minute you walked into the room, like everyone around did, but his eyes did open slightly when he saw you
Always makes the most confusing comments about your height
Something like, "My, my... cloud-watching must be easy for you" or "don't you get tired carrying these long legs around at all times?"
Tf does he mean like 😭
Does he like it or is he making fun of you? God knows and he looooves seeing that cute confused look on your face when you try to decypher his words
When people comment about your height, he's likely to say, "yeah, they're tall, good observation!" in such a subtly sacarstic way that people don't pick on it
Pretty much in a yeah? so? spirit
Like he's not gonna deny your height, he's not blind so he can see that you are taller than most
But at the same time, it annoys him so much when people state the obvious
Probably the first person who, all while acknowledging your height, takes a proper interest in you as a person before anything else
He doesn't see it as an obstruction to your relationship whatsoever
He acts with you like he'd act with a s/o of any height
Meaning that he is quite mocking by nature, but he never makes you feel like less
And oh my, that dude??? Perfect boyfriend if you want a guy that knows how to maintain the tension
He is such a tease, it's literally his favourite hobby
Fluster you then shoot you with his infamous shit-eating grin
Doesn't matter if you're as tall as him or a full head taller, he's not gonna be nice
But you know what he'll be? Very charming
Will find a way to lead your kisses, no matter what position you're in and what the height difference is
Systematically wraps his hands around your waist when walking with you because, once again, he couldn't care less about the height difference
Just Imayoshi being Imayoshi, that's where I'm getting at!
At the end of the day, he loves all of you, including your height and to him that's all that really matters <3
right from the start of your relationship, sae itoshi had a peculiar realization that if you used the word please on him, he would give you anything you wanted in no time.
and he would be lying not to admit that it didn't terrify him one bit, because it did.
but none of it mattered. because sae itoshi loves you, more than words could ever express, more than his own capacity to articulate.
he was a quiet lover. you knew that, and you said it was okay.
his affection spoke through each act of service and every carefully chosen gift. the tenderness of his touch as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, the way he anticipated your needs before you even voiced them, and the thoughtful surprises that always found their way into your life. his quietness, it was more than okay.
in his love, he wove a tapestry of devotion, stitching together moments of care and consideration, making each day feel like a promised future. for sae itoshi, loving you meant crafting a symphony of gestures, his actions whispering volumes, revealing a love that transcended the boundaries of words.
he loves you, in the best way he knows how.
he loves you, more and more each day.
and in his book, that translates to giving you anything you want. it doesn't matter what or how much that is, he'll give it to you.
however, there was one plea he feared.
one request he hoped would never leave your lips. and he would do anything, everything, just to live the day that you won't ask this from him.
“sae…”
no.
“please…”
stop. don't use that word. don't say it – he can't.
“please let me go.”
sae itoshi had known from the very beginning that he would give you anything you asked for.
and this request was no exception.
note. just testing out my angst writing skills for preparation ! ^___^
summary: two months since you've broken up—sae still sees you in everything he does. it's only because he's unwilling to let you go. you're the best thing he's ever had.
warnings: gn!reader , reader wears make-up , angst , kind of fluff towards the end , second-chance romance , sae is absolutely obsessed with you , word vomit , not proof read !!
word count: 6.1k
a/n: jesus this was not supposed to be this long. pls ignore the cringe ass titile its a staple of my fics tbh. wrote this instead of studying for my finals—my priorities are def in check! in a sae mood and i love this trope so here we are. pulled an all-nighter for this + i wrote this in one sitting so soz if its kind of bad T^T
he feels a bit pathetic as he presses send, watching the text bubble turn a bright green. another text that will remain unanswered. it's not like he's expecting a response anyway, at this point he's given up on that.
sae falls back on the bed and runs his hand through his slightly damp hair. it doesn't feel anything like how it used to feel, when you would do it instead. he's fresh out of the shower after a long and gruelling day. practice ran over and so he didn't get to stretch after, his manager rushing him out for the next thing on his schedule: an interview.
an interview that went poorly since all the questions were too personal—the world had moved on from his football skills, they wanted to know about his life instead. sae's never been open like that, not even to the people closest to him, and definitely not to strangers.
plus, he thinks to himself as he stares up at the ceiling, it's not like there's anything interesting to talk about anyway.
there's leftovers waiting for him in the fridge: takeout because he doesn't cook. he can't remember the last time he had home cooked anything. if he thinks about it a little longer, though, it would be obvious that it would have been whenever you were last around.
before you left. before he had hurt you. before the both of you gave up on each other.
he picks at the side of his phone case, there's a groove in the plastic where he had dropped it and he drives his nail into it. sae considers sending another text—when (if) you decide to look, you might pity him and call him.
he knows you too well to fool himself into believing that. you're not calling him, not anytime soon, probably not ever. he holds out hope anyway. sae can be optimistic when he wants to; he's trying to make amends even if you're not here to see it.
his bedroom is a miserable sight. not much has changed about in the last few months, but it feels different now that you're not here. everything seems more drab and, vaguely, he recalls you telling him to paint the walls a different colour.
"ever considered like- a pastel blue or something?" you had asked him one afternoon, head against his lap while you scrolled through instagram, liking whatever was on your feed.
"i like the white," he had responded plainly, fingers messing with the necklace he had gifted you. it was a heart-shaped locket, he hadn't intended for you to put a picture of him inside, though that's what you did.
he wonders if you kept it. it's unlikely.
now, as he stares at the alabaster walls and ceiling, he considers changing it to pastel blue. it might remind him of you, it'll probably only stir up the guilt residing in his chest, but he writes it into his schedule anyway.
he drops his phone on the mattress beside him, eyes closed because he can't bear to stare at the ceiling for a moment longer. it only reminds him of how quiet it is—how the tv isn't playing some random youtube video, how his record player has been untouched for two months. how you're not there to hum quietly to yourself as you go about your business.
his phone buzzes softly and he heaves a breath. for a moment, he thinks it might be you and his heart crawls up to his throat, lodging itself there. he checks the message with bated breath, feeling his anticipation fall through at the realisation that it's from his manager.
"you have a shoot tomorrow morning. 6AM. please don't forget."
he checks the date quickly, staring at his calendar blankly. sae can't do anything tomorrow---he won't. not tomorrow. he sends a text dismissing his manager and telling him to clear out his schedule tomorrow.
he receives a flurry of messages in response, none of which he reads. none of them are from you. he wonders what you're doing right now.
it's past dinner so you've probably eaten already. maybe, you're on the couch, laptop in front of you as you finish up some work you couldn't get to earlier today. you were always good about respecting your time and his: getting your work done early enough to get started on dinner, making sure your weekend was cleared in case he wanted to go somewhere.
thinking back on it now, he definitely didn't deserve you. sae thinks you were too forgiving, too kind, too understanding. sae thinks you let him walk all over you for too long. you should have ended things when he forgot about a date for the second time. if you had done that, he might not have been yours for as long as he got to be—he never would have fallen as hard as he did.
if you had, he wouldn't be thinking of you now like he does every night and every morning.
he rolls on his side, the bed is cold beneath him. he's not tired, but he forces himself to sleep anyway. he might see you in his dreams if he hurries.
-: ✧ :-
sae stands in front of his closet, staring at all his shirts hung up on hangers. there's a folded pile of clothes on a shelf that juts out from the left—a few hoodies, four sweaters, piled atop one another. they've stayed that way for a couple months, ever since you left. they were all your favourites.
he stares at the pile for a moment too long, then settles for a plain brown sweater and shrugs it on. his manager had messaged him early this morning just to ask if he was serious about what he had said last night. sae was so serious about it, he was in deep sleep when the message came through.
he shuffles into the kitchen and looks through the cupboard, finding them too empty. making a mental note to go grocery shopping, he grabs a granola bar and wanders over to the balcony.
the view he has from his apartment in tokyo is a pretty one. sae had always preferred something quieter and greener, with more trees and less pavement. you liked the city, though, and you liked speculating about the people you'd see meandering along.
"what do you think about her?" you'd ask, nodding at the old lady rifling through her purse. her hair is dark like a raven's feathers, not a hint of grey in sight. "do you think she's on her way to a date?"
sae would scoff, bringing his cup of tea to his lips, ignoring the way it burns his tongue because you'd laugh at him for not letting it cool like you told him to. "what makes you think that? she probably has a good-for-nothing man back home."
"are you trying to say old people can't find love?" you'd respond with a playful hum. "look at her, she looks great. maybe, it's for the love of her life."
"the love of her life should accept her as she is."
then, you'd step closer to his side, "is that what you would do?"
"yeah, i'd accept you no matter how wrinkly you are."
"aw, you're sweet. i might leave you though." and then you'd laugh at his incredulous stare. he can almost hear it as he watches the woman disappear from his view.
sae steps back inside and drops the granola bar's wrapper on his coffee table, slipping on his shoes. he's picking at the groove on his phone again. he's thinking of you again.
he's thinking of the soft planes of your face, the way your lips would curl as you smiled. he's thinking of how long your lashes are, how they would flutter against your cheeks when you'd close your eyes. he's thinking of how you'd say his name, warm and inviting and devoted.
and as he climbs into his car, he's thinking of how you had said it the day you left.
"you stopped trying, and i refuse to do this alone, sae."
he turns a corner and out of his neighborhood. he thinks about how your voice broke and feels sick, knuckles turning white at how hard he's gripping the steering wheel.
his drive is silent. sae never really plays music in his car and he doesn't touch the radio because he's sick of hearing the same song over and over again. you hated the silence so you'd always play something, humming along to it.
sometimes, you'd just sing it yourself and those days, sae remembers well. but he remembers most things about you.
it's been two months and that's not nearly enough time for him to unlearn the sound of your voice, the shape of your face and body, and how you used to love him. (he's not really trying—too scared to forget you because memories are all he really has left of you).
the grocery store is quiet, typical of a wednesday morning. most people are at work and their children are at school. sae browses the aisles while pretending to take interest in the things he sees, hoping it'll ward off any employees from asking if he needs any help.
he picks up some ramen and drops it into the red basket in his hand. it's the only thing in there and he chews on the inside of his cheek. sae never cooks but he finds himself with the produce anyway, grabbing the first thing (cabbage) he sees and dropping it into his basket.
"you can't eat out all the time." you chastised him, dropping a few carrots into your basket that you were now sharing with him.
sae was standing idly behind you, watching you grab things, unable to imagine what the final product could possibly be. he's never bothered learning to cook and he's kind of a danger in the kitchen, according to you. "i don't eat out all the time. i eat ramen too."
you rolled your eyes, "wow, congrats. that's not any better."
you moved in with him a week after that, he remembers. your copy of his keys are now sitting in some drawer, seemingly forgotten about even though sae seeks them out sometimes. all your keyrings are still on it.
sae grabs a bottle of salted kombucha and decides to conclude his trip, making his way over to the cashier. she's pretty, he thinks. she does her eyeliner in the same way you do.
he doesn't bring a reusable bag with him, he stopped doing that once you left. you were always the more environmentally conscious one. sae doesn't think he'll live long enough to see the earth explode (which you had said was morbid).
there's barely anything in his plastic bag: the ramen, the cabbage, and the kombucha. he wonders if the girl is thinking about what he plans on doing with the cabbage.
"um- i'm sorry," she begins and sae drags his gaze up to her once more. staring at her eyeliner, thinking about you. "can i get your number, maybe?"
she doesn't know him, he realises. or maybe she does and she's shooting her shot anyway—she's braver than most. sae hasn't tried dating in the months you've been gone, he doesn't think there's a point to it.
two weeks ago, at a party, he tried taking someone home with him. he would never date them, they don't seem like someone who would make him tea in the morning. (something you did without fail, even if you woke up hours after him). so, he chose to sleep with them instead, hoping it might ease some of the loneliness in his bed, even just temporarily. he never made it out the door with them, leaving them behind with some excuse because he couldn't stop thinking about you.
their hand on his shoulder, trailing down his arm, and for a split second he felt you. the slight drag of your nails, the sweet scent of your perfume. the music around him and the voices of especially loud partygoers melted away just long enough for him to hear you. sae heard you say his name the same way you always did, and he left the person he had been walking out with.
he rushed out the door too fast for his liking. if his manager had been around, he might have advised him to fix his expression lest anyone thinks that something had gone wrong at the party.
he didn't try pursuing anyone after that.
the girl behind the counter shifts her weight from foot to foot, wringing her hands together as sae remembers what she had asked him.
he should tell her that he's too busy for things like that. he's not looking to date. "no, i have a partner."
he surprises himself as much as he surprises her, who looks down and mutters a quick apology for taking up his time. when sae leaves the store, there's something similar to nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach.
his granola bar from this morning might have expired, he never checks these things. or, maybe he's feeling guilty for using you like you were still his; you probably have someone new anyway.
the thought leaves him in despair as he gets into his car, his bag of things in the passenger seat. sae tries not to think about it any longer because it shouldn't matter to him what you're doing. it shouldn't matter who you're spending time with.
the day you left, you told him that he was the one who gave up first. that he was the one who turned your relationship sour. that he was the one who saw what you two had turned into and deemed it unworthy of being saved.
that night, as you stood in front of him, your eyes glazed over with unshed tears, he couldn't even tell you that you were wrong.
sae knew he gave up first. sae knew that he was the one who started coming home later and later, the one who forgot about dates repeatedly, the one who didn't remember anniversaries until you brought them up first.
he was the one who left you behind.
you were always too good for him. he sends you another text and watches the bubble stay green, like all the ones before. then, he drives without a destination in mind.
-: ✧ :-
he had been driving for hours. the kombucha in his bag had started to grow warm, condensation wetting the plastic.
it's been hours. he's driven past the same stores over and over again and sae wonders if someone inside has noticed. he doesn't really want to go home, not yet. driving keeps him away from the emptiness of his apartment.
he remembers how he wanted to paint his walls and stops by a hardware place, deciding to commit to the pastel blue walls.
it's just as empty inside as it was in the grocery store. the work day hasn't ended yet, and there's still an hour or two before school lets out. he can't really remember though, it's been a long time since sae has been in school. and anyway, he doesn't think children are rushing to spend their time at a hardware store.
they probably have better things to do, they're not as miserable as he is.
sae grimaces as he realises how pitiful he's been as of late, making his way over to the paint chip, struggling to spot the difference between sky blue and baby blue. both seem a bit too bright—he's looking for something even softer.
"would you like some help, sir?" someone asks from beside him. they're wearing a vest with the store's logo—a young boy with a squeaky voice. he stares at him for a second and sae watches recognition flash in his eyes.
"you're- you're itoshi sae!" he says loudly, and his voice pitches a bit higher. it's grating, sae thinks, as he nods slowly in response to the boy's excitement.
"i'm such a big fan!"
he tells sae how he's been following his career since he came back from spain. that was 4 years ago now, back when he met you for the first time.
the boy seems to realise that he's being somewhat disruptive and quiets down, gathering his composure and asking sae if he needed help once again. sae waves him off and settles on 'moonlight blue', grabbing the paint and checking out.
by the time he makes it out, it's early evening and the sky is starting to take on a pinkish hue. you liked sunsets more than sunrises because you were never much of an early riser.
he remembers when you had pretended to be, trying to catch him meditating in the mornings. it lasted for about a week before you gave up and sae told you to simply sleep in, a hand brushing over your cheek as he placed a kiss on your forehead.
he drives around some more, the paint rattling in the trunk, his kombucha gone completely warm in the passenger seat. his manager has sent him a few more texts but he looks past those notifications and opens up his messages with you instead.
it's not good for him, reading your old conversations, but he does so anyway. before the texts turned green and before he stopped existing in your world. he always scrolls a bit faster when he hits the months that preceded the break-up—the ones where you'd send him text after text and he would respond with a single word.
the guilt eats him up like a starving animal, jaw nearly unhinged as it sinks its teeth into him and rips, leaving him to bleed. his heart aches and sae can hardly stand it; he doesn't know what to do with himself when he thinks about how things had ended with you.
time is meant to heal all wounds, but with every passing day, it seems like his cuts only grow deeper. still, he hopes one day that they'll scab over until all that remains are a few memories with you he cherishes too much to let go. when that day comes, he hopes he can think about you with ease. he hopes he can allow himself to remember you fondly.
sae scrolls until he sees you calling him ‘love’ and ‘darling’ and slows to a stop to read over the messages for the nth time since you left. they’re all rather mundane, but that’s expected. sae liked it—the normalcy you brought was unlike anything else in his life. staring at these messages, he wonders how he let himself treat you like an obligation instead of someone he loved and wanted to be with.
you’ve always deserved better than him. it’s unfortunate, then, that itoshi sae is quite selfish.
-: ✧ :-
he takes himself to a ramen place on the outskirts of the city, where greenery is less sparse and neighbourhoods lay quiet in the distance. it’s a quaint shop, one that isn’t too familiar to sae—he can’t remember the last time he went anywhere outside of the city. it was where you liked to stay, so it’s where he stayed too.
none of your planned vacations ever worked out thanks to his unpredictable schedule. sae used to tell you that it was out of his control, and he used to ignore the way the sparkle in your eye would dim when he’d let you know he wouldn’t be able to make it.
it wasn’t right, they way he treated you. he would encourage you to make the trip by yourself but you never did, mumbling that there was always next time. he reminds himself that he never deserved you, never deserved all that you gave him.
as he drives down this dimly lit road, he thinks about his own hometown. about his childhood home and his bedroom that he hasn’t gone into since he first arrived back from spain. his mother asks him every once in a while to visit and he did go, once. when he left, his mother asked him to bring his partner around next time—she’s heard so much about them to never meet them.
sae hasn’t told her that the two of you broke-up. he doesn’t know how, he’s never been good at this kind of thing. he keeps his thoughts to himself and he never lets his emotions linger on his face. perhaps if he had learned to be kinder, understood what it might have been like to be you, he might still be with you now.
he thinks about his mother once more as he continues to drive, eyes dragging over to a clay cat figurine left on his dashboard. it’s stuck in place and it was a gift from you after your second date. he remembers your sweet laugh when you found out he still kept it after all these years; you’re sentimental, just like his mother. the two of you would have gotten along, sae realises, with a pang in his chest.
it’s far too late to reminisce about what could have been and what has yet to be. you’ve slipped out of his grasp because he was never holding on tight enough to begin with. not that you’re something to be kept, but you are someone to be held, to be cherished, to be loved.
the ramen shop is full of bright laughter. dim yellow lighting spills over wooden tables and chairs, he can pick out the sound of chopsticks tapping against the bottom of their respective bowls, glasses clinking together as people toast. it's the kind of place that would lead his entire PR team to lecture him about his public appearances because it’s chock full of patrons—it only takes one person to recognize him before things go haywire. sae doesn't care, he never did, he just needed somewhere new.
somewhere that isn't the hole-in-the-wall izakaya he likes, sandwiched between a pharmacy and a bike shop. it reminds him of you and how your tolerance is so low, you'd become giggly after about twenty minutes of sipping on your beer.
you never liked beer, you liked the drinks that tasted more like juice than anything. it was something sae used to pick on you for: nearly twenty-two and yet your palate hasn’t matured past a high-schooler’s.
he still has a picture of you both from a night out left in his camera roll, too attached to delete it. you're holding the phone too high up, the picture only really shows the top of his head but he doesn't matter that much anyway. it's you that he always looks at.
you've craned your head up to stare at the camera, eyes shaped into half-moons as your cheeks bunch up from your grin. his hand is resting on your lower back—a precaution in case you end up falling.
you were happy in that picture, so full of love it was practically spilling from you. he can tell because you were leaning into him, your hand was in his. and he was happy too. he always was whenever you were, sae is simple like that.
he finds a table in the back and takes a seat, tracing his index finger over the rings in the wooden table. makes his order with his head hung low. he hopes no one recognizes him—the kid at the hardware store was more than enough for today. his sweater is a bit too warm for the shop and he’s starting to sweat but it might just be because he’s not used to being out like this. when was the last time he was surrounded by so many people?
probably the party he rushed out of two weeks ago. he doesn’t feel contrite when he thinks about who he left behind. but he does when your face comes into view just behind his eyes, and it shouldn’t matter because he’s not yours anymore. he’s just pretending to be, like a stupid little kid.
there’s a chime that comes from the door as someone walks in. he hears remnants of laughter from a joke shared just moments before and decides that it must be a group of people. sae doesn’t look up from the table, eyes straying over to the empty seat across from him. the chill of loneliness settles in his bones quickly and without mercy, yet he still feels hot under his clothes.
embarrassment.
here he is, itoshi sae, seated at a table meant for two, utterly miserable.
his food arrives after some time, a glass of beer along with it. the server smiles at him (smiles at the back of his head because sae refuses to look up) and walks away. sae simply eyes his bowl of ramen with a frown. he thought he might enjoy the chatter, which is why he’s here, but he’s regretting his decision more and more with every second that passes.
there’s a group of people seated behind him. he catches glimpses of their office attire, blazers and pressed trousers. simple jewellery that catches the light but isn’t too distracting. he figures they’re celebrating, or simply spending a night out after a hard day at work. sae picks at his ramen and thinks about how he’s wasted his day. sae takes a sip of his beer and wonders if you’re out celebrating like these people are.
you must be happier now, you have to be. you must be with someone who gives you the time of day, holds you in their arms and tells you they love you every night. all things sae took too long to learn how to do because the depths of your love had him terrified.
you used to look at him like it would pain you to look anywhere else, like he was worthy of being up amongst the stars that dot the sky. he never felt like he deserved your adoration, he thought he had a long way to go before he earned it.
chairs scrape behind him, someone stands up and makes a toast to the future. in his head, sae toasts with them, wearing a sardonic smile. he hears someone laugh and it sounds so inexplicably like you that, for a moment, he wonders if fate has led him to you like he'd been praying for it to.
it takes everything in him to not whip around and stare. he digs his fingers into his knee, bunching up the fabric of his jeans.
he must be going crazy, he decides instead.
sae doesn’t finish his food, or his beer. he leaves with his hands shoved in his pockets, hands curled into fists as the light sound of your laughter rings in his head. it couldn’t have been you—he hasn’t seen you in months. why would you turn up now out of all times? out of tokyo? it’s unlike you.
“sae?” someone calls out to him. not someone, it’s you. he recognizes your voice with ease, he could pick you apart from a sea of people in a half-second. your voice is the one he dreams of, the one he years to hear once more.
sae turns around and it’s you standing in front of him, in office attire like the group that was sitting behind him. you have a large coat on you, the collar popped and hiding some of your chin. the sleeves are far too long for the length of your arms so they bunch up around your elbows as you cross your arms over your chest.
he must not know you as well as he thought he did, if you’re here instead of being in the city.
you’re wearing a soft sort of smile, the kind that one might show strangers who pass by them on the street. it’s nothing like the smiles you used to share with him, and only him. you’re looking at him the same way you look at everyone else.
he watches you wilt and realises that his silence might come across as rejection. he fixes it with an awkward wave, like he’s only just learning to use his hand in tandem with his arm. it makes you huff in amusement and sae latches onto the sound like it’s sacred.
“what’re you doing…here?” you gesture towards the shop, waving an arm at the door. the sleeve of your coat slides down and hides your hand.
sae doesn’t have an answer for you, so he just shakes his head. he says the first thing that comes to mind instead. “you look good.”
you tense, then, eyes flickering to the floor. “um- thank you. you do too.” your voice is so quiet, it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable. sae reminds himself that this is natural—you both broke-up on bad terms. even if you’re here now to say a few words to him, there’s a wedge that has been shoved between you both that keeps you apart.
and it’s his own doing.
he watches as you turn back and he knows you’re contemplating ending this conversation. there’s a panicked stutter in his heart as he considers what to do to keep you here a moment longer, just enough so he could memorise your face once more.
“would you like to take a walk? with me?” he asks rather abruptly. it catches you off guard and you blink a few times in disbelief. sae prays silently like he has never done before.
you take one last lingering look into the ramen shop and sigh. “alright, let’s walk. it’s too loud in there for me anyway.”
“i thought you liked the noise,” he hums, turning on his heel as you fall into place beside him. your arm brushes against his own and heartbeat quickens. you shake your head with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes.
“only sometimes. wasn’t feeling it today.”
it’s gets quiet between you rather quickly, nothing to talk about on his side. he figures you don’t want to share what you’ve been up to. irritation builds in the cavity of his chest quickly, but he keeps it down and doesn’t let it show. what right did he have to know?
the silence is grating and he needs to fill it. “your coat is alarmingly big,” he mutters, nodding at the way it’s slipping off your shoulders. you don’t seem to have been expecting this from him, seeing as he manages to draw a laugh out of you. pride swells within him, replacing his precious irritation.
“yeah, well, it’s not mine. haruto lent it to me because he noticed i was cold.”
haruto. who is haruto?
the irritation is back once more, like flames licking at his lungs and heart. his head feels hot and his cheeks are warm and he’s beyond irritated now. there’s a tight unpleasant feeling that wraps itself around him, squeezing until his breathing turns shallow. sae is jealous.
and he has no right to be, but he is anyway.
the night is cool but his hands feel clammy and he’s sweating through his jumper, the hair at his nape sticking to his skin.
“are you dating him?” he snaps before he can stop himself, staring at you with narrow eyes and a sweltering gaze. you pick up on his spiteful tone and you furrow your brows, picking at your bottom lip with your teeth before you face him.
the frigid stare you give him in response is one that chills him straight to the bone. “what’s it to you? we’re not together, remember?”
he wonders if you know that you’re driving the knife further into the wound, twisting it until it hurts him to even look at you because your eyes only remind him of all the times he messed up with you.
sae doesn’t apologise, he just looks down. from beside him, you scoff and stop walking.
“i see you haven’t changed,” you mutter, picking at your nails. you’ve painted them red and you’re chipping away at the polish.
you don’t give him a chance to say anything before you’re speaking again, looking up at him with that same cold stare. only this time, he thinks he can see something akin to pity in your gaze. “a simple ‘sorry’ would have sufficed.”
he gets the impression that you’re referring to a lot more than his little outburst just now. sae can’t stop the waves of guilt from washing over him even if he tried you. he had done a good job ignoring it to the best of his abilities in the two months since you both broke-up, but seeing you in front of you is dredging up weeks of repressed hurt and remorse. he doesn’t know what to do with it all.
“my apology won’t change anything,” he replies, trying to keep his voice even. sae never cries but his voice does crack from time to time. “not now.”
you let out a bitter laugh, the sound makes sae flinch. “and here you are giving up without even trying.”
never knowing how to apologise for all the times he’s hurt you, deciding that he would rather not try at all instead of trying and failing—these were his flaws. you put up with it for the better part of four years before you decided you couldn’t keep things together all by yourself.
sae had you stretched thin, resolve worn down to just a few strings. at that point in your relationship, one fight was all it took to make the cracks split and break.
“you stopped trying, and i refuse to do this alone, sae.”
he thinks about you here now, the way that you’re still standing before him instead of turning away the minute he had overstepped. the minute he had acted like he was privileged to anything going on in your life, like he was still allowed to be yours.
he thinks about the paint in his trunk and the cabbage in the plastic bag in the passenger seat. he thinks about the messages he sent to you, all unread because you blocked him two months ago.
“i’m- i’m sorry.” the words feel foreign as they settle into the space between you, just a few steps because sae can’t stray too far from you.
you stay silent and he continues. “i’m sorry i never tried as hard as you did. i’m sorry i never acknowledged all my mistakes until it was too late.” sae looks up at you and how the moonlight highlights all the soft curves of your face—you look breathtaking.
“i’m sorry that i never loved you the way you deserved.”
you only nod, taking a shaky breath with glossy eyes and it only makes sae nervous. but you don’t cry so he hopes he didn’t hurt you for the nth time in your time together. when you take a few steps forward, sae grows ridgid, his posture utterly perfect. you place a hesitant hand on his cheek and he leans into the touch more than he would have liked, but he suspends his inhibitions for now.
he’s too delighted to have you back, even for just a few fleeting moments.
your hand is as soft as it always is, your touch as familiar as it once was.
“let’s try again, sae,” you whisper and his name sounds sweeter than normal when you say it now. “i think we can do it right this time.”
sae doesn’t think he deserves your softness, how gentle you are with him despite the way he’s been so cruel to you over the years. but here you are giving him the chance to retrace his steps and fix the mistakes he’s made in the past. and he’s more than willing, in fact, it’s all he’s wanted, realises.
his thumb strokes the apple of your cheek. “i want to try again.”
when you smile, it reminds him of the picture stored away in his phone. your eyes shaped into half-moons, cheeks bunching up. he catches a glint of something gold sitting against your collarbone and doesn’t resist the smile that tugs at his mouth upon figuring out that it’s the locket.
heart-shaped; he wonders if you still have a picture of him inside.
the two of you walk back to the ramen shop. you tell him about haruto, you’re kind co-worker, and about the cat you’ve adopted a week ago. sae tells you that he’s going to paint the walls of his bedroom pastel blue.
“call me when you do,” you say, standing in front of his car. “i’ll help you.”
sae merely nods in response, you’re going to unblock him now. he’s only mildly embarrassed about the slew of messages you’ll receive from him.
he’s never deserved you. but itoshi sae is selfish and this time, he’s determined to do things right.
the way i dont even remember anything i wrote ..... LMFAO anyway THIS TITLE GUYS ITS FROM COLLISION BY SKZ OKAY PLS
౨ৎ synopsis : your shitty bf makes you cry during an argument, but sae wants to make you cry in a different way.
wc: 1.8k ꒰ cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. angsty elements. mentions of arguments. cheating, reader has a bf. fingering. thigh riding. praise. unprotected sex. multiple orgasms. petnames. ꒱
you'd called him near the dead of night, he immediately answered hearing the ringtone specifically set for you, anyone else he would've probably ignored. you're bawling, speaking through sobs as you explain to him you'd gotten in to an argument with your boyfriend.
his heart aches, hanging unbearably heavy in his chest. almost guilty even though he's not the one who made you cry. which is still a bittersweet reality. if he was your man, he would've never made you cry in the first place.
his shirt is soaked with your tears from where your face is buried into his shoulder, but he doesn't mind. sae rubs soothing circles into your back, whispering sweet nothings to get you to calm down. a side of him so soft, something nobody besides you will ever see. he holds you so tightly. like he could lose you any second. but he feels like he's already lost, to that shitty excuse of a boyfriend. sure he's the one you come running to but eventually you'll leave. leave sae for that asshole, the thought makes his teeth grit. he fucking hates your boyfriend. he can't even pretend, he spends long nights praying there's a universe where he ceases to exist. your boyfriend isn't entirely stupid, he notices the tension but sae's your bestfriend after all so he chooses not to question the daggers sae is constantly shooting at him.
sae had only meant to comfort you, he really did. not wanting to cross any lines as you did have someone waiting for you at home. but those morals, the promises he made to himself erase entirely from his mind when he has you perched up on his lap, drinking in your surprised gasp as he crashes his lips into yours. you're both wound up in the fury of emotions, in too deep to care about anything else.
your clothes had been sinfully stripped from your body, leaving you fully exposed to the man in front of you. your bare cunt is sat on his muscular thigh, mindlessly grinding against it. he's awe struck, he can feel his chest bubbling with desire. "you're so beautiful, y/n." he says almost breathlessly like your presence alone had knocked the air right out of his lungs. the wet patch forming on his pant leg doesn't bother him, all he can really think about is how pretty you look, face contorted with pleasure because of him, not that boyfriend of yours.
"if only he could realize what he was missing. making you cry like that, i'd treat you so much better." he grumbles that last part, his true feelings slipping out before he can catch them. but you don't dwell on it, mind too fuzzy at the feeling of your clit knocking against the fabric of his pants. it feels amazing, but it's not enough. his ears perk up hearing you huff in frustration, "what's wrong, y/n? talk to me." his hand cups the side of your face, making you peer into the depths of his emerald eyes.
"need your fingers, sae. want them inside me, please.." you whimper, leaning into his touch and he swears his heart skipped a beat. he presses his lips against yours, kissing you like you're lovers.
sae was so quick to give you what you want, he's been dreaming of this moment and he'd be a fool to waste it. a man who could have anything he wanted until it came to you. but now he does have you, positioned so your back is pressed into his chest with your legs spread over his, fingers buried inside your cunt. "f-feels so good, sae." fuck how pretty you sounded moaning his name. his mouth attaches to your neck, sucking and kissing the flesh in hopes of getting to hear more of those noises from you. well, maybe to also get that prideful feeling of sending you home to your boyfriend with hickeys covering your body.
with his slender fingers working in and out of you so skillfully, your high rounds the corner rather quickly, "yes! yes! fuck, m close." he lets out a hum from where he's nestled into your shoulder, he snakes his palm over to rub your clit, giving you that final push until you were coming undone.
he hadn't crossed your mind once until now, you feel slight guilt crawling up your throat when sae's hovering over you, asking if this was okay and if you wanted to go any further. and of course you wanted to, but a part of you still wept for your boyfriend. all it took was that flash of unsureness in your eyes and he knew that you were thinking about him. his hands dug into the couch cushioning in a fury, trying to keep his composure. to be jealous of another man, no of someone in general was unheard of from the sae itoshi.
it feels like everything's moving slower, it doesn't show in his face for even a second but he's nervous while anticipating what you'll say next. could he have ruined your friendship? did you not feel the same? he's about to speak, about to apologize but you cup his face with both of your hands and give him a chaste kiss, so pure despite your naked bodies being tangled with one another. "you can keep going. i want it, please." you mutter shyly, flashing him a sweet smile, one that he lets out a relieved breath at, not realizing he'd been holding it in.
"i can't stand it," he starts, giving his throbbing cock a few strokes before he's lining himself up with you. "seeing you with him. i hate it, y/n. i want you to be mine. my girl, not his."
a long moan is ripped from your throat as you he pushes himself inside you, stretching you out on his girth. he grunts, swallowing back his own needy groans at the tight squeeze of your walls, the feeling exceeds anything he could've imagined. "sae.." you whine, nails digging into his strong arms that trap you beneath him. your hearts pounding at sae's confession, has he always felt like this? the way he looks at you with such desire, a look you've never seen him with. how haven't you noticed?
but you're sure you want this now. your 'boyfriend' is a non factor to you, any uncertainty was quickly washed away, getting lost in sae's presence. your mind, your heart, everything was swarming with the midfielder.
your legs are locked around his waist, digging your heels into his back to feel him closer, roaming his body with your needy hands. you can't help it, his body is so well defined from the time he spends playing football. a shiver runs up his spine and his hips stutter when your nails rake along his abs. he's more of a mess than he'd like to admit, hair clinging to his face that's sticky with sweat, eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. he looks so pretty like this, you think. your hands still at his biceps, clinging onto him as he draws more saccharine moans out of your throat and sopping wet noises from your drooling pussy. you're soaked, your arousal coats your lower half and soaks the cushions beneath you. "fuck, you're all mine, right?" there's a hint of desperation in his voice that he hopes you miss. sae can't control his emotions anymore, he needs to hear it from you, he needs to hear you want him the way he wants you. it feels like he's slowly losing his mind.
"yes, fuck! all yours, only yours, sae!" you whine in your fucked out haze but all of it is genuine. he dips his head down to press his lips into yours, hand finding its place on the side of your face as your tongues clash against one another in a messy kiss. he fucks you with so much passion, passion that your 'boyfriend' could never rival-
your phone vibrates against the wooden coffee table, snapping the both of you out of your trances. your head whips to the side to see your ex lovers name flash across the screen. sae reaches over to grab it before you can even react. "answer it." your face flashed with horror when he accepted the call, putting it on speaker and holding it to your face.
your ex's voice rings through your ears, he sound like he's been crying (like he isn't the one who wronged you in the first place) immediately trying to piece together excuses for his behavior. "look i'm sorry, baby. just come home, okay? i've been really worried."
"i-" you gasp when sae gives you a particularly sharp thrust, a daring smirk splaying across his face. he picks up the pace, slamming his hips against yours brutally, the slapping noises surely audible from the other side of the phone. "babe? are you okay? what the hell's-" sae's quick to cut him off though, "enjoy her beautiful sounds while you still can, you'll never get to fuck her like this again. she's all mine, got that?" and you knew it was wrong because you hadn't technically told him you were dumping him. but it's obvious now, no?
you didn't feel an ounce of remorse at that point, instead you purposely moaned louder making sure to tell sae, "s too big" "fuck feels so good" knowing that your ex can hear every word of it. the other end of the call was eerily quiet before blaring with spews of curses and claims of "i fucking knew it!", but sae hangs up not wanting to hear him rant about shit he didn't care about any longer.
you squeak in surprise when sae folds you in half, hiking your legs over his broad shoulders. the new position has him reaching impossibly further, unrelenting when pounding into your g-spot over and over. you're beyond delirious, helplessly clawing at anything around you to ground yourself. but he pins your hands together above your hand, enjoying the way you squirm and whine in his grasp.
your legs tremble from where they are dangling around his neck, the coil in your belly tightens as it gets ready to snap. he shushes your broken sobs and cries of how close you were, gliding his thumb over the tears that spilled over your lash line. "i got you, sweetheart. go ahead and cum for me." and you do with a squeal, your vision going white as you cream all over his cock.
ethereal is the only way he could describe how you looked right now. sprawled out, face twisted in bliss and mouth hung open with whimpers of his name. it's enough to have him cumming moments after you, groaning as he coats your walls with his seed.
"wanted to do this for long, angel." he whispers, holding you in his arms but this time as your lover.
Manager beating Hanamiya at chess: how would the boys react? Lmao I love this man but someone needs to humble his ass
he’d totally spin it like he let you win on purpose
when the game first starts, he’s all jokes and smiles. when he starts realising what a good position you’ve got your pieces in, his face goes a bit tense, his back’s a little stiffer
he’s still grinning and chatting - cause he can’t look like he’s having to seriously concentrate - but it’s just not sincere anymore
when it’s finally checkmate, he leans back and says, “what a surprise. you’re just so skilled”
with just a light dosing of sarcasm, really trying to make you doubt whether you won through skill or because he let you win
whereas, inside, he’s running through the game again trying to figure out where he could have possibly gone wrong to have let this happen
because it has to be because he made a mistake, and not because you saw a bigger game than him, right?
it takes several more matches (with hanamiya becoming increasing less chatty/self-confident, and much more focused, probably reading up on different gambits and openings in the evening) before hanamiya starts to admit you’re a better a player than him and starts asking for advice
though, of course, he’s not going phrase it like that
it’s more of a “how much chess have you been playing, you nerd?” or “weird move. what was the point of that?”
