if asked to pick whether to kiss your lips or neck? it's a no brainer for him—he's already diving down to suck the skin 'til he's left a mark for the world to see.
come morning light, sae's already up and dressed for training. you're still passed out on the bed, limbs tangled in a complicated position that makes sae internally wince, that cannot be good for your posture. before leaving the house, he sits on the edge of the bed, wipes the drool on your face and leans down to press his lips on your cheek. his kisses trail down to your jaw before settling on your neck where he suckles lightly on the skin before murmuring, "baby, i'm leaving."
the sensation makes you groan as you feel your sleep interrupted. your hand blindly pushes his face away. sae only grabs your wrist, press a kiss on the inside before meeting your lips again. morning breath be damned.
"baby, i said i'm leaving. morning training." he mutters against your mouth. "then leave." another push to the face. his brows furrow.
"i love you." he whispers and it's met with a hum from you. a few seconds pass and you're already back to snoring off to dreamland.
so sae is left with no other choice. he stoops low, breath hot against the column of your throat and he bites down. hard. that certainly wakes you up. he holds back a grin when you yelp and scramble to sit up.
"i'm leaving. morning training." he repeats for like the thousandth time that morning. his hand snakes its way to the back of your neck, bringing you closer as he peppers kisses on the reddening area. each kiss press against the mark left on the skin. he hums at your complains—talking 'bout he didn't need to ruin your sleep to say goodbye, how he can easily leave a text or a voice mail.
with a final kiss to your neck, he pulls away. "bye, now." and still doesn't rise from the bed.
"bye, sae." you replied, still groggy and rubbing your eye. he looks at you expectantly. you sigh, cupping his face and leaving a fleeting kiss on his lips.
"love you, be safe."
"love you, too. i'll bring you breakfast once i'm done." and if he had a tail, it'd be wagging like crazy right now. he pushes you back down on a lying position, fixes the blanket around you, tucks you in, and kisses your neck (once more, he's insatiable). "back to sleep, now."
with that, he stands up, grabs his bag, and walks out the door.
and when he comes home a few hours later, don't be surprised when you're woken up once again with a kiss and another bite to your neck. his eyes light up at your mad expression. but before you can scold him for it, he's already handing you a cup of coffee and your favorite sandwich from the deli nearby.
He's been flirting with you for weeks... but you don't know German.
Warnings: Fluff; NOT PROOFREAD!!!
[Lost in Translation Series]
You weren’t supposed to talk to him.
That was the one rule you gave yourself when you started interning for Bastard München’s media department: don’t get distracted by the players.
They were larger-than-life athletes, practically demigods. You were a glorified assistant with a clipboard and a very temperamental laptop. You had no business even looking in Michael Kaiser’s direction.
And yet… there he was — golden-haired, star-eyed, and grinning at you like he’d just spotted his next favorite game.
You met him on your second day. You were lost — which was impressive, considering you were supposed to be taking photos of the training field. Somehow you’d wandered into the players’ hallway, clutching a camera you barely knew how to use.
He appeared out of nowhere, towel slung over one shoulder, droplets of water glinting on his neck.
“You’re new,” he said, voice smooth and lightly accented. “Willkommen in meinem Reich.” Welcome to my kingdom.
You froze. “I—uh—sorry?”
He smirked. “Ah, shy. I like that.”
You blinked, smiling awkwardly, because what else were you supposed to do?
“Ich bin Kaiser.” I am Kaiser.
“Oh! Right, yes. I know that,” you said, fumbling your camera strap. “You’re… the Kaiser.”
He laughed softly — the sound low, teasing, deliberate. “And you are?”
You gave your name, still uncertain why your pulse was doing gymnastics.
“Schöner Name,” he said. Beautiful name.
You smiled back, clueless. “Thank you?”
He grinned wider, clearly entertained. “Anytime, Liebling.” Darling.
And just like that, he walked away — leaving you in a state of mild confusion and completely unjustified butterflies.
You didn’t realize it then, but that was the first of many German phrases you’d pretend to understand.
Over the next week, Kaiser made it his mission to “accidentally” run into you.
Every morning, when you brought the cameras to the sidelines, he was there — stretching in the most dramatic possible way, his shirt conveniently riding up. He’d call out,
“Guten Morgen, wunderschön!” Good morning, beautiful!
You’d smile and wave. “Morning, Kaiser!”
He’d wink. “Ah, you say my name so nicely.”
You had no idea he’d just called you “beautiful.”
Sometimes, he’d show up behind you while you were typing reports in the lounge. His voice would dip low, practically brushing your ear.
“Du hast keine Ahnung, was du mit mir machst,” he’d murmur. You have no idea what you're doing to me.
He’d chuckle, walk away, and leave you flustered for the rest of the day.
You figured he was being friendly.
He figured you were teasing him.
It was the start of a very confusing game.
Somewhere in between, poor Ness developed eye twitches.
Ness, meanwhile, was watching this slow-motion disaster unfold like a soap opera.
He tried to warn Kaiser once.
“Uh, Kaiser, I don’t think they—”
“Shh, Ness. They’re just playing hard to get.”
“No, I think they literally don’t underst—”
“Hard. To. Get.”
By week three, Kaiser was half-mad with frustration. You always smiled politely, always responded vaguely, always looked so calm — as if his best lines bounced right off you.
He was the emperor, the crown jewel of Bastard München — and yet here he was, losing sleep over someone who didn’t even blush when he said, “Ich will dich.” I want you.
It happened one afternoon when you were filming practice. Ness wandered over, looking slightly nervous.
“Uh, hey,” he said, scratching his head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure?”
“Do you… speak German?”
You shook your head. “Not even a little. Why?”
Ness sighed like he’d just witnessed a car crash in slow motion. “Kaiser’s been flirting with you nonstop. In German.”
Your brain stalled. “...He’s what?”
“Yeah.” Ness looked genuinely pained. “He thinks you’re ignoring him on purpose. Says you’re playing hard to get.”
You stared at him. “I’ve been saying ‘totally’ to flirting?”
“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands. “What do I do?”
“Tell him?”
But before you could, Kaiser appeared behind you, hair shimmering in the sunlight, smirk already loaded like a weapon.
“Na, Engel? Verpasst du mich schon?” Well, angel? Are you missing me already?
You panicked. “Totally!”
Ness groaned audibly and walked away.
From that day onward, things somehow got worse.
Kaiser became bolder — leaning closer, standing behind you during interviews, dropping German lines that sounded like the verbal equivalent of winking.
“Du bist der schönste Fehler, den ich je gemacht habe.” You are the most beautiful mistake I have ever made.
“Ich schwöre, du machst mich wahnsinnig.” I swear, you're driving me crazy.
You’d nod politely, smiling like you were on autopilot, while your brain silently screamed: Why does he sound angry and romantic at the same time?
He started showing off more during training too — every goal followed by a quick glance in your direction, every smirk clearly asking, Are you watching?
And honestly, you were. Who wouldn’t? The man moved like art — all precision and arrogance and glow.
But then he’d ruin it by blowing you a kiss mid-goal and shouting, “Das war für dich!” That was for you.
You clapped awkwardly. “Yay… goal!”
He grinned. You died inside.
One late afternoon, you were sent to drop off photo files in the media office — conveniently located next to the locker rooms.
You were almost done when you heard a familiar voice.
“Da bist du ja, mein Glücksbringer.” There you are, my lucky charm!
You jumped. Kaiser leaned against the doorway, still in his training gear, sweat-slick hair and that impossible grin.
“Kaiser! You scared me.”
“Du magst es, wenn ich auftauche, gib’s zu.” You like it when I show up, admit it.
You blinked. “Uh… yes?”
He stepped closer, towel draped loosely around his neck, eyes sparkling like trouble.
“You really like saying yes, don’t you?” he teased, switching to English now, voice dripping amusement.
You blushed, unsure whether to laugh or run. “You say a lot of things I don’t understand.”
“Good,” he said. “Mystery keeps the spark alive.”
You muttered, “It’s keeping me confused, that’s for sure.”
He tilted his head. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Hmm.” He smirked again. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“I literally just deliver footage.”
“Exactly,” he said, and walked away.
You stared after him, completely baffled — and slightly more doomed than before.
It became a bizarre routine.
Kaiser flirted. You nodded.
He smirked. You smiled politely.
Somewhere, Ness developed migraines
Sometimes he’d whisper something that sounded scandalous:
“Du bist mein Lieblingsfehler.” You are my favorite mistake.
You’d beam, thinking he’d said something about the footage.
Or he’d murmur,
“Du raubst mir den Verstand.” You're driving me crazy!
You’d reply, “Thanks! You too!”
Each misunderstanding only made him more intrigued. He thought you were teasing; you thought he was eccentric.
It was chaos, but harmless — until he started trying harder.
Two weeks later, Kaiser snapped.
You didn’t know it, but he’d spent the entire morning grumbling to Ness about you.
“They ignore me. No one ignores me. They’re obsessed, secretly. Has to be.”
“Maybe they’re just—”
“Playing. Hard. To. Get.”
Ness sighed so hard it could’ve powered a wind turbine.
That afternoon, when you passed Kaiser in the hallway, he blocked your path.
“We need to talk.”
“Uh—about what?”
“About this—” He gestured vaguely between you. “Whatever game you’re playing.”
You blinked. “Game?”
“You pretend not to care, but you do. You always smile when I talk to you.”
“I’m… polite?”
“Polite,” he repeated, eyes narrowing. “That’s what you call it?”
He took a step closer, frustration flickering behind his grin. “Every time I compliment you, every time I flirt, you just smile and walk away. You’re driving me insane.”
You raised your hands defensively. “Wait, wait—back up. You’ve been flirting?”
“Obviously!”
You stared, mortified. “Kaiser, I don’t speak German.”
Silence.
Actual, stunned, pin-drop silence.
His eyes widened slightly. “You… don’t?”
You shook your head quickly. “Not a single word!”
Then came the slowest, most bewildered laugh you’d ever heard.
“No way.” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “You’re telling me I’ve been pouring my heart out in German for weeks, and you just—nodded?”
You winced. “And said ‘totally,’ yeah.”
He doubled over laughing. “Oh, Scheiße! Ness was right!” Shit.
You covered your face. “This is so embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” he wheezed. “I told you you were the most beautiful mistake I’d ever made!”
You peeked through your fingers. “You what?!”
He laughed even harder. “And you said ‘totally!’”
You groaned. “I’m going to evaporate.”
When he finally stopped laughing, he leaned against the wall, smiling in that lazy, dazzling way that made you feel like the air had thinned.
“You really had no idea.”
“None,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “I thought you were just showing off your accent.”
“You thought this”—he gestured to himself—“was casual conversation?”
“I mean… it seemed very you.”
He chuckled, pushing off the wall. “You know, I should be angry. You ignored me for nearly a month.”
“You could’ve just switched to English!”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You glared. “You’re impossible.”
He grinned. “And yet you keep talking to me.”
You rolled your eyes, but your lips betrayed you with a smile. “So what now, Your Majesty?”
“Now?” His voice dropped an octave, soft but teasing. “Now we start over. In a language we both understand.”
He insisted on walking you back to your workspace. You expected him to gloat, to make more jokes — but he was oddly gentle, tone quieter.
“You really didn’t know what I was saying?”
“Not a clue.”
“And you still smiled.”
“Because you seemed nice,” you said honestly. “A little dramatic, maybe, but… nice.”
He laughed softly. “That might be the first time anyone’s called me that.”
You shrugged. “Then you should hear it more often.”
Something flickered in his eyes then — the showman dimmed for a heartbeat, replaced by something almost shy.
“You’re… different,” he said simply. “Most people either worship me or hate me.”
“I didn’t understand you enough to do either.”
He laughed again, this time with real warmth. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”
You stumbled over your words. “You—what?”
“See?” He smirked again, confidence returning. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say for weeks.”
The next day, he found you in the lounge with a notebook.
“If you won’t learn German, I’ll teach you,” he said, sitting beside you uninvited.
You sighed. “Is this another excuse to flirt?”
“Absolutely. Lesson one: Date. That means ‘date.’”
You snorted. “Wow. Tricky.”
“Lesson two: Küss mich.” Kiss me.
You narrowed your eyes. “And that means…?”
He smirked. “Ask me sometime after lesson ten.”
You threw a pillow at him. He caught it easily, laughing.
“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning back. “We’ll take it slow. I’ve got time.”
I've been giggling to myself like an idiot writing this, my mom started giving me sceptical looks.🤣
synopsis: he's not giving you attention, so you go out of your way to get him to focus on you
aabi's note: based on this request here!!
𝄞𝄢 isagi yoichi.
"yoiii," you call your boyfriend for the nth time. his eyes have been glued to the noel noa gameplay on his phone screen for the past hour.
he came over to spend time with you, but now he's here obsessively watching his idol play soccer as if he doesn't already do that everyday. if he had the chance, isagi would probably leave you to date noel noa.
you huffed, feeling pathetically bored because of isagi's lack of attention on you. if you wanted him to focus on you, you had no choice but to do something that'd surprise him.
slowly, you climbed onto his lap.
"hm?" he absentmindedly hummed, still staring at his phone with heart eyes. "oh noel noa, what spell did you place upon my man," you thought. this was your first time sitting on his lap and he was still drooling over that thirty year old.
you cupped isagi's cheeks and turned his face towards you, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. isagi dropped his phone. that got his attention because he was completely taken aback.
"yoichi."
no response.
"yoichi isagi."
"i didn't even realize you—" isagi covered his face, which was rapidly growing pinker and pinker with each second, with his hands.
"w-what was that even for?" he asked, voice muffled from his hands.
"you weren't paying attention to me," you murmured.
"i was!"
you scoffed and pulled on his sprout. "you've literally been saying "mhm" to everything i said for the past twenty minutes."
"okay... you're right." with a soft sigh, isagi locked his phone and wrapped his arms around you. he pulled you so close that your noses were booping.
"can i have another kiss now?"
𝄞𝄢 bachira meguru.
it wasn't like bachira to not pay attention to you. he was always clinging onto you and doing crazy things just for your eyes to stay glued onto him.
today was different. bachira had been doodling random soccer players in his notebook for almost an hour.
you tried talking to him about everything—how your day went, the latest show you watched. but all your efforts were useless. he was just so absorbed in drawing!
now you understood how it felt when he was always desperately clinging onto you while you didn't give him the attention he deserved.
after you attempted to steal his pencil — which didn't work at all — you decided to just climb onto his lap. bachira immediately looked up, yellow eyes wide and observing you curiously.
"oh?" his lips quirked up into a playful smirk.
"hi."
"hi."
you stared at each other for a few seconds before you leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
"aww," bachira cooed. "you miss me that much?" he was grinning from ear to ear, eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement.
"you ignored me!" you pouted.
"did i?" bachira blinked obliviously, clearly unaware of the fact he'd been neglecting you while being locked in with his drawing.
"yes you did!"
bachira laughed and squeezed your cheeks. "sorry, sorry," he apologized. he peppered your forehead with dramatic kisses before burying his face in your shoulder.
"monster says i have to give you attention now because it wants you to do this more."
"finally your monster has some critical thinking abilities."
"hey!"
𝄞𝄢 itoshi rin.
there was no way that the movie was more interesting to rin than you.
you groaned internally because that was the exact truth of your current situation. for the last thirty minutes, rin's focus was only on the movie and it didn't shift once, not even when you were leaning against him.
you continued to try everything for him to realize you were dying of boredom. you tugged on his sleeve, poked his cheek, and even pulled on his hair! but nothing seemed to work.
you were left with no choice but to do something crazy—something you've never done before. you climbed directly onto rin's lap, not even giving him a warning.
that seemed to have grabbed his attention because his eyebrows furrowed and he shot you a glare.
"the hell are you doing?" rin tried to exhibit nonchalance, but the tips of his ears were a bright, undeniable crimson red.
"getting your attention, duh."
"...you're being annoying," rin muttered. his words were completely contradictory to the way he was reacting.
you sweetly pecked rin on the lips, pulling away before he could even comprehend what you were doing. you tried not to laugh at the way he was staring at you.
his arm slid around your waist anyway, pulling you closer while the movie continued in the background.
"rinnn"
"what?"
"are you okay?"
"just shut up."
𝄞𝄢 itoshi sae.
sae had been sitting across from you for the past forty minutes, laptop open and teal eyes intently fixed on whatever match footage he was analyzing.
for the past forty minutes, he didn't speak to you or even acknowledge you once. you were beginning to take this personally.
"sae."
"hm."
"sae."
"what."
"nothing."
even during this attempt to get him to focus on you, he didn't lift his eyes off the laptop screen once. your eye twitched from annoyance.
okay, fine. if he wanted to ignore you, you'd just have to take matters into your own hands. standing from your spot on the couch, you walked over to him. you pushed his laptop aside and climbed into his lap for the first time.
"what are you doing?" sae asked, looking at you for the first time in nearly an hour.
"clearly trying to get your attention."
"you already had it."
"liar."
"you've spent more time looking at your laptop than me," you muttered, crossing your arms in front your chest.
"maybe because my laptop wasn't being all needy and whiny," sae murmured and gently flicked your forehead. "unlike someone."
your jaw dropped at the sound of his words. "you—"
without a warning, you grabbed his face and pressed a rough kiss on his lips. sae, taken aback from this, stared at you with wide eyes, a stark contrast to his usual aloof demeanor.
you smiled smugly. "now are you paying attention to me?"
the surprise quickly vanished from sae's expression. he rested an arm around your waist and leaned back in his seated.
"seems like you're gonna need more than just attention," he hummed.
𝄞𝄢 nagi seishiro.
this bum nagi had his pretty partner on his bed, but he was busy locked in on a video game.
"seiii," you called out to him. " 'm so bored. come here."
"mm after i finish this round."
you rolled your eyes. he was lying, again. for the past two hours, nagi kept telling you the same thing—that he'd spend time with you after he finished his next round or whatever.
"you leave me with no choice i guess," you muttered under your breath, pulling yourself off the bed.
you walked up to nagi and sat down on his lap facing him. and that wasn't it. you cupped his chubby cheeks, then smooch.
for a while, nagi's eyes were still glued to his screen, but the movements of his fingers on his keyboards slowed. it was like his brain was rebooting, deciding whether you were more important than his game or not.
'game over' was written boldly in red on his pc screen. "oh," nagi breathed out, but he wasn't even staring at the screen anymore. his gaze was on you, half-lidded and cheeks faintly pink. "you've never done something like this before," he murmured.
"you don't like it?" you asked even though you know he loved the proximity and attention you were pampering him with.
"nah," he mumbled. his hands rested on your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh. "love it."
fem! reader, you & rin have a son (unnamed), inspired by the bllk exhibition pics of his and sae's childhood room where theres bite marks on basically everything bc of rin LOL
you've heard of those jokes that some people make over their child resembling their father more than their mother, despite her having to bear all the troubles that come with pregnancy. you were a little prepared for it, not that you would have been unhappy with a mini rin.
ironically, your son bears all your features, from your hair colour to the shape of your nose, and the only tangible proof that rin had any part in his creation was his teal eyes and the itoshi family's signature underlashes.
but, it seems like your son inherited more than just rin's pretty eyes.
by this, you mean his propensity to drool almost excessively and gnaw on all his toys and, well, just about anything he can get his little mouth on. you know it's likely (definitely) because he's teething, but you kind of prefer to blame it on rin so you can tease him about it.
"baby, let's not chew on that…" you gently pry your son's mouth away from the toy, little whines of protest as you inspect the little indents on it, before setting it down and lifting him onto your lap.
your son's mouth instinctively finds your shirt to gnaw on, his saliva wetting the fabric. you would be more annoyed if he wasn't so cute…
"are his teeth hurting again?" rin suddenly materialises next to you, his shadow looming over. he leans down to press a light kiss on your forehead and to take your bitey child away from your poor shirt.
you hum in reply as you watch rin use a handkerchief to wipe his drooly mouth, your son babbling in response.
"must get it from you," you tease with a lighthearted smile, rin rolling his eyes in response.
"yeah yeah," he grumbles, sitting down. your baby, having exhausted himself from all the biting he was trying to do, sleepily coos, eyes drooping while he gets comfortable in rin's arms. you stroke his chubby cheek, leaning your head on rin's shoulder as the both of you watch him drift off to dreamland.
synopsis : sae comes home expecting comfort, only to find his girlfriend avoiding him for reasons he doesn’t understand, forcing him to confront the growing tension between them.
the video appears randomly on your feed—a new interview that happened just a while ago while sae was attending a celebration as a guest.
a journalist comes up to him with a hot topic, and the question blurs in your ears the moment you heard the journalist ask. "rising athlete itoshi sae, the people are asking: is there or is there not a girl behind the scenes?"
sae doesn't answer instead he just looks at the journalist with a stoic expression on his face, intimidating the writer.
and upon not having any answers, the journalist puts matters into their own hands. "okay, you get it guys? silence means... no!"
wasn't it the other way around?
"you heard it girls and guys, rising athlete itoshi sae is single!"
the reporter had easily twisted sae's actions. the camera swiftly switches to the next public figure adjacent to sae leaving him no choice but to accept the fact that he fucked up.
perhaps his choice to stay quiet in hopes that the reporter second guesses his decision to ask him such a private question was wrong. perhaps, privacy isn't such a big deal in social media today.
sae subtly rolls his eyes before ushering his manager to the mini bar station where the party was offering cocktails, in hopes to relieve his stress.
unfortunately for you, the video online ends where the journalist announces that rising star itoshi sae is single.
your eyebrows furrow, ears hearing a deafening silence when the video goes off. your eye twitches as soon as you open the comment section. thousands of fans commenting as if they're going to secure a spot next to the itoshi sae.
you knew what you were signing up for when you began dating sae. but you never expected that fame would take him from you this fast.
the denial, the non-committal effort to correct the journalist all point out to how sae's slowly getting farther and farther from you. and the fact that he's never home these days doesn't help.
maybe it was wishful thinking that this relationship could last.
or maybe you're just thinking too much into it for your overthinking mind to bear.
you don't know what it is that fills you. is it sorrow or is it your temper slowly seeping out of you? that, you cannot know for sure right now.
nonetheless, you can't bring yourself to scroll down the comments any further. there's a clutch in your chest and it gets tighter with every passing moment that your eyes skim over the fan commentary of the video.
the house is surrounded with white noise as you try to get your mind off of it. you clean, you read, you watch tv. anything that doesn't include holding your phone you did already. because once your fingers are wrapped around your phone, you'd be consumed by the need to check the video again.
that night, sae comes home clad in his black slacks and a plain white tee. seems like he had the time to change outfit before coming home to you.
the front door opens and your heart skips a beat from where you were eating in the dining area. you swallow a lump but you remain composed, acting as though you're not about to give sae the most gut wrenching silent treatment.
there's a thud in the floor, signalling that sae had put his bags down with little to no effort. the shoes in the front door scratch the wooden floor and it's all so loud. all of the sudden, you're hyper conscious of every little sound that emits from every corner of the house.
"i'm home." he calls out from the living area. his steps are light as he traverses the bridge between the living and dining area, looking for you.
he spots you sitting on the dining table munching on a dessert bowl you prepared yourself. sae looks around, searching for signs of food but he sees nothing except your dessert bowl.
he stands at the edge of the dining table, plants his palms on them and peers down at you. "you're not eating proper dinner?" he assumes already and you feel ticked by it.
normally, you'd be used to sae's small sessions of scolding you for not eating your meals properly but this one particular time you're kind of pissed off to hear him scold you.
your eyebrows furrow but you don't speak just yet.
"hey," he calls out again. "answer." there's that stern tone he uses when he's berating you for not taking care of yourself.
but really, this time, he's just annoying you and your perfectly curated dessert bown of nothing but sweet goodness and one speck of fruit.
when he realizes that you don't have any plans on responding, he scoffs out an offended huff. tossing his head to the side to avoid looking at you with an exasperated expression. he licks his lips wet before pushing himself off of the table.
"i've got no energy to deal with this, [name]." he dismisses it altogether easily, and your lips turn downwards into a frown when you hear the door to your shared room slam close loudly.
you don't acknowledge yourself for being petty because you remember the video again.
you bite onto your dessert with gritted teeth, upset with the fact that he dismisses you like that after denying you on public television.
it's not like you two ever agreed to keep this all a secret, so why is he acting like you're some sort of forbidden treasure he's got to keep a secret from the world?
you value your privacy really, but to be denied is another thing. especially when it's inviting wandering eyes into the situation because sae is, without mistake, a public figure. it is wrong to want him to be yours and yours alone only?
you roll your eyes to yourself, slamming the wooden spoon onto the empty bowl before harshly standing up and hearing the seat screech against the tiles. your actions are now reflecting your unquiet insecurity that your overthinking mind brought you.
the harsh slam echoes against the thin walls of the house and it reaches your shared room to where sae is currently in, dressing out of his clothes to wear comfortable ones.
he hisses in the sharpness of it and wonders what's got you in such a mood.
he turns the doorknob with the same intensity, the oak door flying open as he searches for your to ask what's going in but he finds no sign of you.
he furrows his eyebrows in frustration but he hears the sink in the bathroom run in gentle current and his mind settles again, at ease to know you haven't left the house.
he's restless. the fact that you haven't spoken a word to him ever since he came back from work has had him at his wit's ends. and all of the sudden, he's got no courage to open up a random topic to you and yap about his day because your demeanor has intimidated him.
at the end of the day, itoshi sae is still your long term partner who has surrendered his strong front in exchange for intimacy and vulnerability that is exclusive to you and only you.
the evening drives by fast and in the blink of an eye, sae is laid on the bed, staring up to the ceiling with coldness emitting from beside him. your side of the bed is empty, and sae's all so aware of this.
last time he had seen you was when you were busying yourself with your monitor back in the living area. he washed up hoping you'd be ready for bed the moment he's out but no.
he's done with everything and yet, you're still outside the bedroom. indulged in whatever work that's keeping you occupied. with one lamp turned on in a warm setting and the bright light from your monitor, the entire house is shrouded in darkness except in your small work corner where you stay, refusing to speak or acknowledge his presence.
now that he's settled in this oddly spacious bed, his thoughts are rowdy in the quiet calmness of his solitude.
he can't help but think about it. why is his usually bubbly girlfriend refusing to acknowledge his presence? or is he thinking too much into it and you're merely too busy to even bat an eye.
sae's patience wears thin.
the next morning comes around fast. sae closes his eyes and the next when he's opening them, he's met wit the bright light of dawn and an empty space beside him. his alarm goes off a few moment after he wakes up.
seems like the strangely cold ambiance of the room drove him to open his eyes and be met with no source of warmth beside him.
he groans when he realizes that you're really nowhere to be seen in your supposed shared room. the usually warm morning he wakes up is non-existent. he runs a hand through his hair, frustration slowly building up.
but sae's got no idea how to cope. does he willingly commit to whatever you're pulling and just let you be? or does he put in effort to coax out whatever the problem is going on with you that is getting in the way of your relationship?
he's in a slump.
nonetheless, he doesn't act on it immediately. he decides to wait until you break out of your bratty character that refuses to recognize his on going frustration.
he gets ready for the day after checking his packed schedule. he thinks for a moment while buttoning up the shirt he decided to wear.
does he tell you about the schedule and be ignored? or does he stay quiet and play along with whatever's wrong with you and let his frustration build even further.
sae's dilemma continues.
up until he's munching on a piece of bread he toasted himself because you're too occupied with your work for the day to even bat him an eye and offer that you cook up something quick so that he doesn't tire himself throughout the day for not eating the most important meal of the day.
he's getting tired.
he watches you by the kitchen island. leaning against the marble furniture, lips wet with water that he drank, eyes studying as you squirm in your reclining chair, looming over the data on your monitor.
he becomes all hyperconscious of what your wearing and how you're perched up on the recliner chair that he bought you. a thin oversized shirt draped over your figure with nothing underneath it. the shirt settles gently just beneath the flesh of thighs and he gets a peek when you place your legs onto the chair.
he looks away immediately. throat closing in and his jaw tightening. he tosses the glass onto the sink, running water over it as he leans lazily against it. his lips are pursed together tightly.
he leaves the kitchen, goes around towards the living room, grabs a coat from the rack and hangs it over one shoulder.
"i'm going to work." he calls out while putting on his shoes. "be back before dinner." he reminds but you don't listen.
he waits by the doorway for a while, an irk mark appearing on his forehead when he realizes that you’re not paying any attention to him again.
you stay focused on your work. or at least, you tried to.
you heave out a sigh when an unfamiliar data comes across your screen. you lean back and the chair reclines, you cross your arms over your chest and you think about how to manage this.
the house is suddenly quiet. you wonder if sae’s gone to work. so you look around. slowly turning your chair to see if everything’s safe. but that’s where it goes downhill.
when you turn around, you’re met with sae standing in front of you and your eyes meet for the first time since last night. he looks down on you as if you’ve wronged him, and for a fraction of second, you feel so small. the way he towers over you is intimidating, not to mention the way his one hand is settled on his hip.
he’s mad, and it’s evident in his gaze.
you bite back your shame, trying to recover by turning back around but that just made everything even worse.
one hand firmly lands on your chair’s arm rest and you’re quick to be rotated back to face him. this time, sae’s leaning down. crouching down to stare at you at an eye’s level.
your eyes meet his immediately. but it doesn’t take you long to regain composure and you remember what he’s done so your head turns to the side at light speed, avoiding his gaze altogether.
sae rolls his eyes at your pathetic move to avoid his gaze.
his free hand moves and the next thing you realize is him holding you by your chin, forcing you look back at him. his grip is harsh, the frustration he’s feeling is evident with the way that it’s undeniably firm.
you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a bratty look. he scoffs at this. but that’s all he does before going in for a rough kiss.
he’s moulding his lips with yours, inserting his tongue in between when he notices your lips are slightly agape from surprise. your eyes are wide while his are staring back at you with nothing but rage. but the way that you’re not doing a lot to fight against his kiss tells him that you’ve been waiting for this too.
so instead of pulling away to give you time to breathe, he pulls you in even further. you almost choke with the way that he’s kissing you with so much heat. it makes you look pathetic but he knows you so well that he’s got a kiss memorized to the way that it makes you moan out in satisfaction.
when he hears you, he immediately pulls away. and you’re left with swollen lips when he pushes you against the chair’s back. your eyebrows furrow and he knows that he left you unsatisfied when he pulled away so suddenly when you’ve just begun enjoying it.
“don’t know what’s gotten you so upset but don’t go depriving me of my kisses, yeah?”
he says that and he leaves for work.
you roll your eyes when he waves a mocking goodbye before leaving.
the door shuts close and you’re left alone with the deafening silence of the house. whatever you’re doing it frustrating not only him, but you too.
and you only realize it when your lower extremities starts pulsating with the way that he kissed you just now. and to edge you with an unfinished make out session? you start questioning if this is still worth the act.
you recline your chair to the maximum, groaning with the way your body is tingling with the unsatisfied feeling of having your desires unmet with the man that you love. there’s a frown on your lips and an on going heat forming underneath your panties.
the hand on your face slowly makes its way to your neck and you hear yourself breathing heavily when everything else is so silent. your monitor hums softly and your chest heaves up and down in a slow tempo.
your fingers begin to tease your buds. you bite down onto your lips when one finger begins to rub your nipple. your eyes close as you begin fondling your breast, and the need to have sae’s tongue circling your nipple grows stronger with every rub you do to yourself.
you’re torturing yourself. and it gets even more painful when your free hand starts to trace down your hips and to your clothes pussy. your panties are soaked and your finger starts to circle on the wet patch.
your shame is non-existent when you put your panties to the side to have your slender fingers make contact with the wet result of your sexual frustration.
your lips are agape when you let your fingers rub against the entrance of your soaking pussy. the friction feels insane to you, and it leaves you wanting more. you speed up and you feel a tight knot forming in your lower stomach. but it’s not enough.
your nails graze the insides of your sensitiveness. and it feels surreal. it doesn’t take long before your impatience gets the best of you and you begin pumping your two digits in and out. there’s a wet sound resonating through the living room and you can’t hear anything else except it—not even your muffled moans because you have your lips in between your teeth.
you can’t help but echo out sae’s name when your fingers are speeding up. but it’s nowhere near the speed and the length of sae’s fingers. it doesn’t quite reach the good spot that leaves you empty in the head.
so when you come, it feels unfinished. your hands are soaked with your cum and everything else.
it’s nasty. the view of you with your fingers tucked inside your pussy and the other hand fondling your breast. your lips agape, saliva dripping down on one corner.
oh what would sae say.
the front door clicks open and there’s shuffling. you swallow a lump, turning a page of your book, trying to act all nonchalant with your boyfriend’s arrival from work at a rather early time.
you want to ask him why’s home so early but you can’t bring yourself to speak with him without thinking about how he has denied you on national television.
“i’m back.” he calls out and expects a reply but still nothing so he huffs out when he realizes you’re still on this silent treatment game that is making him look desperate and pathetic.
sae enters the living area and sees you by the couch, occupied with a book. you wore an oversized shirt and very short shorts underneath that if not seen in view, one would mistake you as half-naked.
he places his bag on the table. “what have you been up to all day?” he asks, attempting small talk. “reading books?”
but nothing.
and there’s no more of sae’s patience.
“alright,” he starts. voice dropping an octave. “why are you so upset? you don’t even speak to me anymore.” he calls out and your heart skips a beat, realizing that he’s talking about it.
but he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know why you’re so upset and somehow, that made you even more upset.
you don’t answer again. “hey.” he perks his head up. “i’m talking to you?” his voice is sarcastic now, offended with the way that you’re really committed to this silent treatment shit.
there’s a moment of silence before your book suddenly leaves your hand. he slams the book onto the glass table and his bag tumbles down. alarmed with the way he’s acting, you push yourself back against the couch but he doesn’t let you.
he catches your ankle and pulls you back in. he puts his arm beneath your knee and the other on your back, he hoists you off the couch with almost zero effort and you’re left limply trying to get off of him but his tight hold against you made it hard.
he stomps across the living room and he reaches the front door of your shared room. he kicks it open with one foot and pushes it forward.
upset, he tosses you onto the bed and you bounce against the mattress. you immediately crawl back until your back it against the bed rest but again he doesn’t let you. he pulls you back onto the edge and your legs are on either side of his hips now.
“still not gonna tell me?”
he stares down at you as if to make you feel dumb. you feel small under him, and it doesn’t help when he puts a hand beside you and he leans in making you fall flat on your back. the distance slowly disappears and the next second he’s talking directly to your face.
his breath fans your nose, “what’s up?” he raises an eyebrow, licks his lips and you catch the way his eyes travel down to your reddened cheeks and lips.
there’s a slow silence in between now when sae falls silent. he’s gazing down to every inch of whatever is in front of his view—the entirety of your beautiful face and your perked up nipples beneath the thin oversized shirt you’re wearing.
you grows equally frustrated. “come on, baby.” he whimpers and the desperation is obvious with the way he’s trailing his words.
his head hangs low and you can’t see his expression anymore. next thing you know is he’s leaning down onto your neck. his hand searching for yours before he bites down onto the flesh of your skin. it’s harsh and his teeth dig into your skin, desperate that he marks you.
you wince and your eyes close in pleasure. there’s now a red mark on your neck and he licks over it to ease the pain that he has inflicted on you. he apologizes lowly before moving to the other side and kiss the upper part of your neck just below your jaw.
you crane your neck to the side unconsciously, giving him more space to kiss all over your vulnerable neck. his tongue traces down a trail of saliva and he bites down on the flesh part of your neck again. he sucks against it, lapping on it and when he releases, there’s a bruise.
“tell me.” the hums out, his throat vibrating against your skin and he continues to mark you. he goes down to your collarbone, biting down to every fleshy part he comes across. not even minding if it can’t be covered.
you shake your head. squirming under him, “can’t tell you—ah,” you huff out a breathy moan when his hand invades you beneath your shirt. he wastes no time and starts fondling your breast. “you gotta…” you breathe out, “remember what you did.”
he rolls his eyes before he uses one hand to push the shirt over your head. you let him do so, giving him a nonverbal permission. you’re sprawled out on the bed with your upper body in the view for him to adore and mark.
his lips tug upward and he’s never been this turned on. your chest heaving up and down in a slow pace. but it’s deep—the way you’re looking right into his eyes. as if you’re desperate for him.
how are you able to make his dick ache with so much pain by just laying down beneath him? it’s honestly magic to him. how he’s still so down bad for you even after you’ve made him so sexually, physically, and emotionally frustrated.
“say it.” he nods to you.
but you don’t reply immediately, instead you shake your waist sensually against him. arching your hips just a tad bit so that your wetness comes in contact with his bricked up dick.
he rolls his eyes back and he doesn’t care one bit if he looks so pathetic in front of you right now. because he needs you so bad, and it doesn’t help his situation that you’re actively seducing him to do rough sex just so that you’ll admit whatever is on your mind.
he lowers himself down onto your perked up bud, lapping onto it and he stares up at you when he does so. you make eye-contact and you melt. your back arches, inviting him to bite against your nipple to get a reaction.
and he gets what he wants.
“ah, fuck. sae—” you moan out his name when both of your breasts are so full of his attention. one receiving mouth game from him and the other is being loved by the slenderness of his fingers.
but he’s not convinced at all. he licks your stomach while he tugs your shorts off. you bite your lips as you look down to see him kissing the space between your navel and pussy. the distance between the two drives you crazy because you just want him inside of you and nothing else.
he watches as you squirm when his lips make in contact with your bare inner thigh.
“stop teasing for fuck’s sake.” you curse out, feet pushing him away but he catches your ankles and uses it as leverage to push your thighs open. you wince when the pain hits your bones.
“oh yeah?” he hums out before finally placing his wet lips onto your equally wet pussy.
he begins to expertly circle around your sensitive bud. two of his hands settle firmly on your thighs, trying to keep them open when you’re trying to close them to avoid overstimulation. he closes his eyes, focused in the way that his saliva is mixing with your fluids. his lips feel sticky but that’s the way that he likes it.
how can he not like it when you’re slowly unfolding before him? when the way that his tongue is exploring the inside of you is the reason for your eager moaning?
you cry out his name when you unravel. “fuck you, sae.” you curse him out when your thighs tremble and your body shivers with the gravity of the pleasure that’s taking over you.
he stares back at you with a smirk. proud of what he has done. he looms over with the way that your body is unravelling and your pussy leaks out your white goodness.
he stands in front of you and he cups your pussy with one hand, pushing in his middle finger just when your cum stops spilling out. he begins to pump it in and out and your eyes widen.
“w—wait, i’m still—”
you call out but you stutter when he adds his ring finger in. he raises an eyebrow, ushering you to continue but his speed and length makes it hard to speak and organize your thoughts again. he mocks you by adding another finger in and his speed accelerates. he holds your thigh down when you begin trembling, fingers hitting that one spot and it doesn’t take you long to spill out again.
sae retracts his fingers when your thighs close from the wave of pleasure washing over you. he shakes off the wetness on his hands and he unbuckles his pants with one hand. pulling out his belt and tosses it onto the floor before letting his pants pool on the floor.
your whining out your overstimulation when you see sae stroking his dick in front of you. a tear falls out of your eyes and it trickles down your cheek. it doesn’t go unnoticed by sae, so when he leans down, the tip of his dick touches your entrance. he crawls over you, wipes the tear away and kisses your cheek before slowly sliding into you.
you moan out his name when his dick fills you to the hilt. his size and girth overfilling every corner of you tight pussy. he groans when he feels suffocated inside you.
“fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” he moans out, stroking the bump on your stomach, asking that you loosen up before he cums inside youwithout even starting.
you do as you’re told and you calm yourself down but the fact that he’s so big doesn’t help. your lips trembles and your eyes water again. when sae’s busy adjusting to your tightness, you’re crying beneath him. your arms over your eyes, whimpering out your sobs.
“you said—” you choke out and sae shoot up to look at you immediately when he hears how your voice is incomplete and you’re sobbing out your words. you sniffle, “on national television that you don’t have a girlfriend.”
you finally reveal it when your tears swallow your face. every inch of your cheeks wet with your tears. you’re crying and it’s because of him—from both angst and overstimulation.
sae listens, and your pussy loosens around him when you finally let your feelings out.
“mhm.” he hums out, acknowledging that you continue with your rant. he props his hand flat on the matress and begins to move inside you. he thrusts gently at first when he waits for you to continue.
you whimper, “why would you, ah, d—deny me?” you croak, now crying out without restrictions.
when sae hears your words, his pace fastens and his thrusts go harsher. he copes with the idea of his wrongdoings by firmly holding onto one side of your waist and heatedly smashing both of your bodies together with every thrust that he initiates.
“yeah?” he groans out, a moan exiting when pleasure begins building up inside him too. you feel so good around him right now and that fact that you’re crying over him turns him even more and he’s motivated with the fact that he needs to do some serious making up because he has made his pretty girl upset.
he lets go of your hips and he circles his thumb around your clit. he positions one of your legs over his shoulder and he thrusts even deeper. your moaning out every echoing slap of your skin together, a choked moan for every thrust that he does.
he leans over you, kisses your lips and you catch him with ease. he leans back and kisses away your tears. “i’m sorry.” an apology from him and you’re back to moaning out his name.
“fuck your apologies.” you curse out, almost spitting on him and he understands your frustration. he lets you curse him but with the way you’re actively moaning with every thrust assures him that you don’t mean a thing.
he pushes in harshly, shoots his load deep inside you as you do the same by spilling out around his cock. he groans, tilts his head back.
“oh fuck [name], you feel so fucking good.” he curses underneath his breath and he lays flat on you. he breathes out muffled words, “what should i do to make you feel better about it, hm?”
when he’s vulnerable, you turn both of you around so that he’d be the one laying down and you’re on top straddling him. he looks up at you in disbelief and he only scoffs.
“let me ride you while you beg for my forgiveness.” he begin to move yourself back and forth on his cock and it feels sticky with the cum residue that sticks on your skin. but the sensation isn’t bothering you and sae’s dick is pulsating inside of you.
you place both of your hands onto his chest before you begin to bounce. sae is amused. with the way that you’re jumping on his cock, your boobs bouncing with every ride and your lips agape, unable to conceal the sexiness of your frustration.
he finds you beautiful even like this. naked on top of him, ready to challenge his dominance. eyes staring blankly down at him, asking that he say sorry for what he’s done.
he rests his hands on your hips, circling his thumb around your skin before he thrusts his hips up and you’re recoiling with the way that he does it so suddenly. his speed takes over you and you’re now lowering yourself onto him.
“oh, fuck—” you mewl out lewdly, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and it’s honestly music to his ears.
“would you take it as an apology if i married you, so we could announce it to the whole world?”
@/bluelock_news: athlete ITOSHI SAE announces marriage to non-showbiz, long-term girlfriend!
[one pic attached: itoshi sae’s bare back in the view with a girl wrapped around his arms. a glint of a diamond ring can be seen.]
bunny would genuinely be staring at your bump 24/7; he’d always tease you about it; “i filled you with a little bunny, que lindo.—próxima vez; te voy a llenar con una camada de conejitos.” and laugh right after while your face is starting to feel hot; and the tips of your ears shading into a pink tint.
he always rushes over to help you carry anything; it doesn’t matter if its heavy or not; he will NOT let you carry anything;— “bun, im not that weak; I can carry everything just fine—.” “no, let me carry it; i don’t care. sit down.” you have no choice but to sit down on the couch as you see him walk back and forth grabbing and putting bags inside the house.
he’d always keep track of your cravings; doesn’t matter if you ate it once; or mention it once—this guy is like a restocker; restocking food you crave during your pregnancy.. “how did he know..?” —you say to yourself.
calls you “mami” , “mama” or “mamacita” every single time.
“buenos días mami.” he says standing in front of the bed as you sit up, rub your eyes and yawn softly. you blush slightly as you receive a kiss from him.
“you look hot mama.” he says as you did a cute hairstyle on your hair.
every time he comes back from training or from a soccer match; the first thing he hears from you is; “massaageee…masageeee…pleaseee….” you groan as bunny hasn’t even enetered the house properly; he can hear your groans from OUTSIDE while he’s trying to fit the key inside the lock; —looking like a MESS — but eventually massaging you while you sigh in relief; your husband STILL dripping sweat from his forehead from soccer
—————————————————————
ⓘ story made by gynsaira! [worst one so far i literally have no motivation :cry:]
Vivian needs to touch grass but he’d rather touch you!
Vivian Hugo x Reader Fluff (for once)
The villa’s sat on the French Rivera. It’s 5pm, stupidly quiet, no press, no football fields, just you and Vivian. He’s half in your lap on the outdoor sofa, his head resting on your chest, still in an Arsenal polo and sweats, phone open to some player tracking data he swore he’d stop looking at today.
You’ve got a book open (a real one with words) resting it atop his shoulder blades. You’re not paying much attention to it though, how can you, with your big hunk of a boyfriend sprawled on top of you like this.
“You’re supposed to be off,” you say, stealing his glasses and tossing them onto the table. He doesn’t really need the glasses, but you don’t bug him about it. At least they were blue light, protecting his pretty, onyx eyes that seemed to only soften when he looked at you.
Vivian blinks up at you, that same dead stare boring into you for a second before it turns soft. “I am off. This is recovery. Destiny requires it mon cœur”
You straddle his thighs, throwing your book on the table and tangling your hands in his hair. “Vivi. Touch grass.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush, nose brushing your jaw. “I’m touching you. Waayy better than grass.” He mumbles.
You kiss him. He’s warm and smells like sunscreen and that expensive French cologne he pretends he doesn’t like. For once his mind isn’t racing, thinking about football or destiny. It’s just... slow. Safe. All yours.
Later there’ll be pasta, book debates, a nap in the sun, and a heated tennis battle that’ll really test your relationship. But, right now it’s just this. The pressure to win four World Cups gone. Radio silence on. Just you, him, and zero reason to leave.
i need him so bad he’s so big omg I need him like biblically baadddd holy fuck.
pls pls pls pls pls if the universe answers only one of my prayers
chat is it vivian or vivien. i thought it was vivien but everyone is saying vivian…
first time writing fluff lowkey nervous but im kind of tired of being a pervert.
i shall write smut later but also i feel like a pervert cause i love him sm but also #ineedthatsobad
should i do smaus guys
will work on requests in a bit and do other characters as well! requests, messages, asks are open so don’t be shy!
